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run-me-through-but-not-like-that · 2 years

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Hope I’m not bothering you with all my requests but your writing is incredible! (*^^*)♡

Maybe some endgame SteddyHands x Reader where Ed and Stede are together and Izzy and Reader are together and they go on a double date (Stede’s idea) and all have a really good time. But afterwards whenever it’s not all four of them together it feels like someone’s missing. Shenanigans ensue. Ed and Stede probably decide to invite you and izzy on more double dates and Izzy is probably worrying that you are realizing you want better than him and Reader is just confused and concerned.

Maybe eventually Lucius tells them all that “if all of you would rather go on double dates and spend time with all four of you, why don’t you all just dare each other?” And the Ed, Stede, Izzy, and Y/N all realize “ヽ(°〇°)ﾉ how did we not think of that?”

Just All Date Each Other Already!

“Why did you agree to this?” Izzy grumbled as he ran his fingers through his hair, evenly spreading the pomade throughout it. He didn’t even know why he was stressing so much about this, it was ridiculous.

“Because they were doing that thing where they act like you have a choice but you actually don’t,” you reminded him, fixing the fastenings of your shirt.

“All the more reason to decline,” he continued to complain as he wiped the excess from his hands.

“They’re our captains and our friends, it’s a double date. It won’t kill us,” you rolled your eyes fondly. Really, you wouldn’t think spending a dinner with one of his oldest friends wouldn’t be such a cause of stress for him.

“Barely been on a normal date, nevermind a double date. What even the fuck is that?”

Finishing up with the cuffs of your shirt, you walked up to him. You gently took hold of his waist, turning him to face you before soothingly running your hands up and down his sides. “I have taken you on plenty of dates, thank you very much. A double date is just two couples spending some time together,” you told him, though you were sure he could figure that out. “It’ll be fine, love.”

You made a bit of a show of flattening his collar and centering the knot of his tie even if it was already pretty perfect. “There you go. You look perfect,” you kissed the tip of his nose playfully just to make his cheeks flush pink.

“Let’s get this over with.” That was as enthusiastic as Izzy was going to get about this, but you could work with that.

“Iz, sweetie, relax. It’s just dinner. You and Ed can hang out like old times and I’ll make sure Stede isn’t too overbearing,” you assured him, giving his shoulders a little squeeze.

“Alright,” Izzy sighed before looking you once over.

You had dressed up a little, throwing on some nicer looking clothes that you own. Nothing fancy, just not the sort of clothes you would scrub the deck wearing. Izzy didn’t have any ‘nice clothes’, but he forwent his vest in an attempt to feel more…approachable.

“We’ve got this,” you shot him a wink before taking his hand and leading him out of the little cabin you shared.

At least you didn’t run into any of the other crew members on your way to the captain’s cabin, that would only put Izzy more on edge. Once you reached the door, you gave Izzy’s hand a reassuring and grounding squeeze.“I love you,” Izzy said under his breath, staring at the door. The poor man sounded like he was being led to the gallows.

“We’re not dying, Iz,” you laughed. “But I love you too,” you gave him a quick kiss, just for a little added confidence, before knocking on the door.

Stede flung the door open and greeted you both with a bright smile. “Right on time!” he praised, pleased with the timeliness. “Welcome, come on in, make yourselves comfortable.”

When Stede stepped to the side, you and Izzy walked into the cabin. Edward beamed at you both from a cabinet where he was selecting a bottle of something suitably aged to have over dinner.

“I know you’re going to ask for rum, Iz, but please just give this wine a chance,” Edward spoke up before Izzy could even open his mouth.

“I’ve had wine before, Edward,” Izzy scoffed. Sure, probably not whatever wine Stede Bonnet collected, but he knew what wine tasted like.

“But not this wine,” Edward waved a bottle in front of him.

“I’m sure we’re going to love it,” you smiled, giving Izzy’s hand another small squeeze.

You herded Izzy over to the dining table. “Sit at any of the placements you like. Roach is particularly proud of this spread,” Stede told you both.

You and Izzy chose two seats beside each other. You didn’t know if it was customary for partners to sit beside or opposite each other, but you weren’t about to leave Izzy’s side when he was already anxious either way.

Edward strode over to the table and filled four glasses with red wine, before he took his seat opposite Izzy. Stede was quick to sit by Ed’s side, opposite you.

The four of you filled your plates with Roach’s food, adding certain elements whenever Stede recommended something.

“So, Izzy,” Stede spoke with an air of casualness, even if his attempt at casual conversation came off as a little awkward.

You couldn’t help but smile to yourself as you ate, suspenseful to see how Stede was going to communicate with the first mate. They had been getting along better, not at each other’s throats all the time, but still very rarely interacted one-on-one. At least you and Edward were there to mediate if anything went wrong.

“How is the crew?” Stede asked.

Good idea, you thought, talk about something neutral. When you glanced over at Edward to see his reaction, he appeared to be thinking the same thing.

“Not bad, not going to get themselves killed while we have dinner,” Izzy shrugged, speaking like he wasn’t sure how to converse with the other man.

“C’mon, Iz. Gotta be more to say than that,” Edward prompted, raising an eyebrow at him.

“The sword fighting lessons have been going really well, tell them about that, love,” you suggested, smiling in a way to let Izzy know that you had him, that you were here for him.

“The crew are doing…fine. I suppose they’re not as useless as they once were. Feeny and Pete are taking to swordsmanship fairly well. Frenchie isn’t so good with a sword but his footwork is impressive,” Izzy reported.

“And the Swede is getting really good with the knots,” you added, sounding proud that Izzy had taught them such things. Proud to have Izzy as your partner.

“He’s…made little songs to remind him how to tie different knots,” Izzy sighed, his nose scrunching up at the memory of sitting through the Swede explaining each of the songs.

“It’s sweet.” You couldn’t help but feel a little fond as whenever you passed the strange man singing his little songs and tying his knots.

“It’s ridiculous,” Izzy corrected.

“Well, it sounds rather effective,” Stede grinned, “I’m glad you’re all getting along.”

“Izzy is a good teacher when he wants to be,” Edward told Stede, shooting Izzy a playful wink.

“When people listen,” Izzy muttered before helping himself to another forkfull.

“And that is why Jack still doesn’t know which start is which,” Edward agreed, sounding fond and amused.

“The fucker can barely find Polaris. Would be able to if he listened to anything that wasn’t a crude joke,” Izzy smirked, amusement in his eyes, while Edward laughed.

Stede took a sip of his wine before nervously swirling the liquid around in the glass. “Well, I was wondering, Izzy…if you could give me some lessons with a sword. I’ve improved some but I’m not nearly as good as you or Edward,” Stede asked before quickly adding, “I promise to listen.”

Izzy eyed him for a moment, like he was trying to figure out if Stede was being serious about lessons, if he was worth the time. Izzy must have decided he was serious, because he agreed. “Suppose I could, yeah.”

“Told you he’d do it!” Edward placed a hand on Stede’s knee, giving it an excited shake. “And we’ll come and cheer you both on, right?” he looked across to you.

“Obviously,” you smiled back at him. “Wouldn’t miss it for the world,” you knocked your shoulder against Izzy’s, he rolled his eyes but still smiled to himself.

After the promise of lessons, the conversation lulled. Falling awkward for a moment, a nervous energy buzzing over the four of you.

“Oh!” Stede perked up, thinking up a topic for conversation. “You won’t believe the conversation we had with the tailor at the last port…”

Stede’s story about the tailor was…mundane at best, but you felt somewhat fond while listening to him and his passion about how the tailor dared to suggest the mix of certain fabrics. You even caught Izzy listening to the tale, the corner of his mouth quirking up every now and again, likely at the ridiculousness of the whole thing.

Occasionally Edward would jump in with something along the lines of “can you fucking believe that!” or “it was fucking diabolical!” which was all very entertaining and rather sweet.

You and Izzy remained in the captain’s cabin long after dinner was finished, which wasn’t the plan but wasn’t unpleasant by any means. Apparently the two of you decided that it would simply be rude to leave without finishing the bottle of wine…and the second one.

The wine helped the four of you loosen up, tension about the strange situation fading and any nerves long forgotten. Stories flew from each of you, the others listening intently. Jokes were shared and laughter echoed, the company feeling surprisingly easy.

At the end of the evening, you and Izzy had your arms linked together as you headed for the door.

“This was a wonderful evening!” Stede exclaimed, his voice loud with drink but endearing nonetheless, as he walked you both to the door. “We’ll have to do it again.”

‘Course we will, love,” Edward agreed warmly, wrapping an arm around his shoulders.

“And we shall see you both tomorrow,” Stede moved with far too much familiarity but you found that you didn’t really mind when he stepped forward and took you by the arms.

You spluttered a little when he kissed both of your cheeks, still smiling wide as he pulled away, but laughed it off. Izzy’s face was bright red as he received his cheek kisses, and you had to hold back a startled giggle.

“Alright, mate, come on,” Edward laughed, pulling Stede away.

“Goodnight, darlings!” Stede waved but was already walking over to the dining table. “Edward, come help me clean up!”

“He doesn’t drink a lot and wine is particularly…effective on him,” Edward explained, nothing but love and adoration in his eyes.

“It’s fine,” you assured him as you lent into Izzy’s side, feeling him tighten his hold on your arm.

“Edward!” Stede called from the table, making you laugh.

“Night, guys,” Edward grinned, glancing over his shoulder to check on Stede, who was stacking plates.

“Night, Ed,” you smiled and Izzy gave him a nod before the two of you left.

You and Izzy returned arm in arm to your shared cabin.

“Tonight was actually kinda fun,” you reflected as you closed the door behind you.

“Yeah…it actually was,” Izzy agreed, clearly surprised that he shared your sentiment.

But Izzy didn’t have much time to think about that because you were alright in front of him, already working him out of his shirt as you brought him into a sweet kiss.

Back in the captain’s cabin, the two men had tidied the table somewhat before slipping into their comfy bed.

“Tonight was lovely, Ed,” Steded murmured into Edward’s neck, happily curled up around him.

“It was fun. I think even Izzy enjoyed himself,” Edward mused fondly, tracing little shapes against’s Stede’s arm. It really had been too long since he and Izzy spent some time together and it was nice to see Izzy happy with somebody who treated him well, you were clearly very good for his friend.

“We really should do it again.”

“I’d like that,” Edward smiled, pressing a kiss to the top of Stede’s head.

Apparently that double dinner date had awoken something between the four of you. Relationships between Izzy and the crew had been improving for a while now and, while he didn’t seek out Stede’s company, he didn’t complain so much about the co-captain’s presence. The new development was that the four of you were putting much more effort into spending time together than you usually would.

Stede had stayed committed to his lessons with Izzy, never missing a lesson and always putting his full effort into it. He really was improving as well. His dedication and improvements were doing the job of gaining Izzy’s respect, and perhaps even some fondness. As the two men sparred back and forth, you and Edward would cheer them on from the sidelines and throw in advice for Stede. Edward would throw an arm around your shoulders when he got over excited, shaking you as he cheered on one of the men.

Edward had been randomly finding you when you were up on the deck, teaching you little tips and tricks about how to predict the weather. You were learning how to read the clouds and pay more attention to the temperature changes, but you knew you would never develop the sixth sense that Edward seemed to possess. Still, you enjoyed those little moments together.

Edward and Izzy would spend some evenings sitting up in the crows nest, just like they used to when they were deckhands on the same ship. Talking in a way they hadn’t in years.

After sharing your routine morning coffee with Izzy, when Izzy had left to round up the rest of the crew, Stede would come and speak with you. Never about anything important, just like he wanted to spend some time in your company, and you didn’t mind in the slightest.

Spending time together were highlights of your days but nothing quite compared to when all four of you found yourselves together. When the four of you got together for something it just felt like something was clicking into place.

The four of you were getting along better than ever, finding yourself seeking each other out just for the sake of it. You enjoyed each other’s company, found it easy to be around each other, enjoying learning more about each other, and growing fonder of each other as the days passed.

However, this new closeness had caused a few…crises.

Stede loves Edward, he had never known love like this, he didn’t even think it existed. Only weeks ago Stede would have easily and proudly exclaimed that Edward was his entire world. And yet, he found himself longing after the company of two others. He loved Edward dearly, every part of him, Edward was more than he could ever ask for. There was absolutely nothing wrong with the time he and Edward spent together but he found that he enjoyed that time as much as he enjoyed his time with you or Izzy, and when he considered it to be the best was when all four of you were together. Everything just felt so…right. Was he truly so greedy and so selfish that he needed to have you and Izzy as well? Oh god, what would Edward think if he knew?

Edward had been beating himself up as well, finding himself curled up in an empty bathtub more often than usual. He loved Stede, had from the very start and never questioned it since. But he loved Izzy too. He and Izzy had such a history and over time the connection they shared had become tangled and twisted into something unrecognisable. But he did love Izzy, had for a long time, just assumed it was a different kind of love to what he shared with Stede. Plus, he was with Stede and Izzy was with you. The two of them were happy and things were finally going well for them both, so why did something feel wrong? Then there was you, he could so easily see what drew Izzy towards you. Your kindness and sincerity, your patience and open adoration for the people you love and care about. Edward had always liked you but spending more time with you had been eye opening. He was Blackbeard, he should be able to have everything he wanted and more, but he couldn’t stand the thought of hurting Stede, of hurting any of you.

Despite the worries of the captains, they didn’t talk about it, but they did decide to invite you and Izzy on more double dates. Dinner and drinks in their cabin, stargazing on the quarterdeck, nature walks when the ship was anchored near land.

For the most recent, totally normal, just between friends, double date, the four of you were in the captain’s cabin again. Stede really loved going ashore and doing something exciting with the three of you but the privacy of the cabin was second best.

The four of you were sitting around the lit fire, the cabin warm and cosy. Edward was lounging on the couch, stretching his bad leg out over Stede’s lap. Izzy was sitting in one of the arm chairs, surprisingly relaxed, while you had made yourself comfortable on the floor between his legs. Sitting on a pillow with your head resting against the inside of his knee.

You laughed at one of Edward’s stories, turning your face into Izzy’s knee to muffle the sound.

“Oh! Before I forget, I picked something up for you when we were last at port,” Stede announced excitedly, placing his drink down.

“Me?” you asked, eyes widening as you lifted your head from Izzy’s knee.

“Yes, it’s nothing too special. I just saw it and it looked to be your size and I just thought about how well it would suit you!” Edward smiled as he moved his leg, letting Stede stand from the couch. “I’ll go fetch it!” and with that, Stede disappeared into his secret wardrobe.

You looked to Edward for some sort of explanation as Izzy sat up straighter behind you. “Don’t worry, it wasn’t too expensive,” Edward assured you, seeing the slight panic on both of your faces. “I agree with him though, think it will look fantastic on you.”

You couldn’t help but blush a little at the way Edward smiled at you. Admittedly, you could see why people gravitated towards him.

Behind you, Izzy frowned to himself. Stede was getting you gifts and Edward was complimenting you…something about this felt…wrong to him.

Stede soon returned with a silky looking white shirt on a hanger, holding it up proudly. “It’s alright if you don’t like it,” Stede quickly backtracked when you just stared at him, looking a little embarrassed.

You stood, Izzy offering you a hand, before approaching Stede. He kept hold of the hanger while you rubbed the material between your fingers. If you accepted the gift, it would definitely be the softest thing you owned.

You just didn’t understand why Stede would buy anything for you. “It’s beautiful, but you really didn’t need to-”

“I know that,” Stede tutted, “I just wanted too.”

“You should try it on,” Edward suggested and Stede nodded in agreement, while Izzy shifted in his seat.

“Alright,” you nodded and took the shirt . Stede gestured for you to go into the wardrobe for some privacy.

You disappeared into the closet, taking a quick look at Stede’s variety of clothes and the garments Edward had collected since being with Stede.

Izzy watched you slip out of the room, a little frown still on his face. “What do you think, Iz?” Edward asked, getting his attention.

“It’s nice,” Izzy shrugged. It was a nice shirt…

“This is all pretty nice, isn’t it? The four of us hanging out.” It sounded like Edward was trying to get at something, but Izzy wasn’t quite sure what. Izzy glanced at Stede for some sort of insight, but he just looked like he was waiting for some sort of approval.

“Yeah…suppose it is,” Izzy agreed.

“We picked something up for you, as well,” Edward grinned, stretching out his bad leg before standing from the couch. Izzy watched, silent and confused, as Edward wandered over to the desk, pulling something out of a drawer. “I know you take care of your stuff so your knife is in perfect condition but it’s old and you deserve something new,” Edward brought the new dagger over to where Izzy was sitting.

“I had my eye on something else but Ed said it was more decorative than practical and I know you love practicality,” Stede confessed.

“What do you think, Iz?” Edward asked as he handed over the blade.

Izzy examined the blade, turning it around and testing the weight in his hand. It was a fine blade, thin and sharp. Deadly. The handle fit in his hand like it was made for him. It must have cost a pretty penny.

“It’s…it’s good. Uh…thank you,” Izzy could feel how warm his face had turned as he looked up to Edward.

“You’re welcome, mate,” Edward grinned, pleased with himself.

Thankfully, the attention was taken off of Izzy when you walked back into the room. You were wearing your new shirt, tucked into the waistband of your pants. They had been right, it was perfect on you. It billowed and clung to all the right places, the collar fastened with laces, letting you choose how tight or loose you wanted to tie it. Right now you had it tied loosely, casually.

“So, what do you think?” you asked, uncomfortable with the silence you were met with.

“Beautiful!” Stede complimented brightly, instantly blushing at his own praise. You blushed as well at the earnesty.

“It suits you,” Izzy really meant it but he still felt like he was beat to the chance to make you blush and smile like that.

“Thanks, love,” you still smiled brighter at his compliment and that helped put him at ease a little.

You returned to your sea between Izzy’s legs, flashing him another smile before making yourself comfortable. The captains poured more drinks and returned to their seats on the couch. Everything went back to normal but Izzy found himself unable to listen to the rest of the conversation.

Izzy had given you things before, but they were practical items. A new knife since yours had been a rusty old thing, a new pair of boots when yours got wrecked. He never got you something so fine just for the sake of it.

What if that was what you wanted? What if you wanted what the captains could offer, what if you thought they were better for you than him?

Things had definitely been a little…weird. The captains have been particularly friendly lately. Of course, you didn’t mind, you loved spending time with them and the more time you spent together the more you enjoyed it. You just weren’t sure what brought on the change.

Izzy seemed to have been enjoying your little get togethers as well, until recently. He was worrying about something but you couldn’t tell what it was and he wouldn’t tell you. You knew he would when he was ready, so you would just offer him support in the meantime.

You cared for Edward and Stede deeply, more than you originally thought you did, but your priority right now was making sure Izzy was alright.

Things had come to their climax, the tension no longer letting you ignore it. Izzy was avoiding Edward and Stede completely and being distant with you, you just refused to let him push you away completely. Edward was keeping his distance from you and Izzy, sticking extra close to Stede and it was like Stede was going out of his way to ensure nothing he did could be interpreted as anything but platonic.

It was all very strange and you hated it. You hated that something was on Izzy’s mind and he felt like he couldn’t talk to you about it, you hated that two of your closest friends were acting so distant. You wanted to know what was bothering Izzy but he refused to talk about it, you couldn’t ask Edward if he knew anything because he would practically run away from you whenever you tried.

Something was wrong with each of the men you cared about but you just couldn’t figure it out at all. You wanted to make things right, you just didn’t know how.

By midday you felt like banging your head against the mast until something broke. Izzy was being all sulky, Edward weirdly flighty, and Stede uncharacteristically untalkative.

“Why do you look so sad?” Lucius asked, coming up to your side.

“Do you ever feel like something is going on with the people around you but you don’t know what and nobody will tell you what it is?” you asked, folding your arms on the ship’s railing.

“Sometimes, and then we talk about it and solve the problem,” Lucius nodded, obviously with some judgement in his voice.

“Genius,” you muttered. You knew he was right, the four of you should talk about it, but that would be so much easier to do if they would actually talk to you about it!

“You’re talking about Izzy and the captain’s right?” Lucius asked knowingly.

“Yep. You noticed how weird they’ve all been acting too?” you knew you couldn’t be the only one who thought something was wrong, you weren’t going crazy.

“Yes, I’ve noticed you idiots all being idiots,” Lucius rolled his eyes with a certain fondness.

You groaned, dropping your forehead down to your folded arms. “Rude.”

“If it makes you feel better, you’re not the biggest idiot out of all of them,” he reassured you, patting your back.

“Thanks, Luce,” you murmured into your arms. “I don’t know what happened. The four of us were getting along so well. It was great, y’know? But now it’s like nobody can stand to talk to each other for too long. I’ve asked Izzy about what’s going on but he always brushes it off like it’s nothing, when something is clearly wrong,” you lifted your head just enough to make sure Lucius could hear you clearly.

“I think I know what’s going on here,” Lucius sighed, sounding exasperated with you all.

“What?” you pushed yourself up from the railing and turned to him properly. You just wanted to fix things, and if Lucius had some insight you were willing to hear him out.

“I’m going to help you, mostly because the four of you sulking about it is really killing the mood.” You just rolled your eyes at him, knowing he cared really. If he didn’t, he wouldn’t have even asked what was wrong. “But you’ll owe me big time for this, all of you will,” he warned.

“Yeah, whatever, just please help me out, Lucius,” you didn’t think Lucius would ask much from you for his help. Probably just ask you to cover some chores for him.

“Grab your angry little man and meet me in the captain’s cabin,” he ordered, clearly already having some sort of plan ready.

“When?” you asked, unsure whether prep time would be helpful for Izzy or if it would only give him time to grow more anxious about the whole thing.

“Now. I’ll round up the captains.”

“...you really think this will work?”

“I really do,” Lucius sounded more like he was talking to himself than to you, but you decided to just go along with it.

You thanked him quickly before running off. You had no idea what he was planning but he had a plan and you didn’t, so you might as well give it a shot.

Izzy was definitely reluctant when you told him to follow you to the captain’s cabin, that you wanted to finally talk about whatever has been going on recently. He was even more reluctant when you mentioned that Lucius would also be there, but you didn’t want to surprise him with that. Thankfully, Izzy trusted you enough to know that you wouldn’t allow anything to harm him or put him in an overly uncomfortable situation. So, he let you lead him by the hand to their cabin.

You knocked on the door and Lucius opened it. “Sit down,” he ordered immediately, stepping aside to let you both in.

You just nodded and entered the room, seeing that Edward and Stede were already sitting on the couch, looking a little like scolded children. You and Izzy moved towards the armchairs but were quickly stopped.

“Nope. On the couch,” Lucius corrected.

“Bit of a tight fit, Luce,” you pointed out, but he probably already knew that.

“Don’t care. Sit,” Lucius cocked an eyebrow, arms folded over his chest sternly.

You shared a look with Izzy before joining the captains on the couch. Edward and Izzy were on the outsides, pressed against the arms of the couch, while you and Stede were squeezed between them.

“Lucius, what is this?” Stede questioned, sounding just as confused as Edward looked.

“Couples therapy,” Lucius huffed, as if it were obvious. You all just frowned at him. It was not obvious. “The four of you couldn’t be more obvious. You’re all in love with each other,” Lucius never had been a fan of unneeded subtly when it came to this kind of thing, he liked a straight forward response. Even still, that was blunt for him.

Lucius thought it would be best to be blunt and smooth things over afterwards than try to get you four idiots to figure it out by yourselves. He didn’t have all day.

“Lucius!” Stede eyes widened at the scribe, as if scandalised.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about, boy,” Edward scoffed but pointedly wouldn’t look at him.

“Seriously, this is your idea of helping?” you glared at him. Sure, you had accepted his help, but this wasn’t what you had imagined.

Izzy was surprisingly quiet beside you, just staring down at his lap. You didn’t think that was a good sign.

“Shut up. The four of you, just listen,” Lucius tutted. “You’ve all been spending a lot of time together, right?” he asked. Figuring that you still weren’t allowed to talk, the four of you nodded. “And you enjoy spending time together?” You all nodded again. “And most of all you enjoy spending time as all four of you?” More nods, although they were more hesitant this time.

“Then maybe all four of you should just…be together,” Lucius suggested as if it was the most obvious solution in the world.

“Lucius-” you began to interrupt, this was a pretty heavy topic to just drop on everyone.

“Nope, still talking,” Lucius thoroughly chastised you. “Relationships don’t just have to be two people, and that’s perfectly okay,” he reminded the four of you.

When he didn’t speak for a moment, Stede figured he was allowed to talk again. “Lucius, I appreciate this and you know we all have nothing but respect for you and your relationships but…I don’t think that would be something I’m comfortable with.”

Lucius considered him without judgement before nodding. “You wouldn’t be comfortable with Ed just sleeping with anyone, right?” he asked, still no judgement.

“Of course not!”

“I wouldn’t fucking do that!” Edward defended himself, clearly offended by the mere suggestion.

“It wasn’t an accusation,” Lucius reassured him. “So, you aren’t interested in an open relationship like Pete and I have. You need security. That’s fine, that’s not the only option.”

This was his nightmare, Izzy realised as the conversation sounded so far away. Lucius was suggesting that you be with somebody else (even if it was in addition to him). You would see that being with somebody else is better and would leave him behind.

As if sensing his spiralling, you gently took his hand in yours, just holding it as Lucius continued. It helped bring Izzy back into the cabin, into his body.

“The four of you could have a closed relationship. Just the four of you, all of you in a relationship with each other. Exclusivity between the four of you,” Lucius explained, “just like what you're already doing but with less pining.”

Edward hummed to himself, a little ‘huh’ sound. He couldn’t believe he hadn’t already thought of this, but even if he had, would he have suggested it to Stede? He looked at Stede to see how he was reacting to the idea. Much to his delight, Stede looked interested, hopeful even.

Stede looked at Edward, perhaps to judge his reaction as well, and the two of them shared a silent communication. This was something they both wanted and they knew just by looking at each other. It would be new, especially for Stede, but it could be such a good thing.

Clearly making his decision, Edward broke out into a bright smile.

“Well, uh, thank you for your…input, Lucius. I think the four of us need to talk about this…alone,” Stede gave him a tight smile, wringing his hands in his lap.

“Hint taken,” Lucius nodded. “Come find me if you need any help…try to avoid it if necessary,” he escaped from the room promptly, probably to tell Pete everything, closing the door behind him.

“Well, this solves everything!” Edward stood up, clapping his hands together, staring brightly at the three of you. He looked almost proud of himself, as if it had been his idea. “Can’t believe I didn’t think of it first,” he admitted.

Izzy was looking at him with wide eyes, his mouth hanging open, unable to do anything more.

“Darling, let’s not get ahead of ourselves,” Stede stood and pulled Edward to the side, hoping to calm him down a little before he overwhelmed you or Izzy.

As soon as you were offered any sense of privacy, you turned to Izzy. “Are you alright?” Izzy could quite easily become overwhelmed, especially when it came to anything involving feelings, and your first instinct was to check in on him.

Izzy convinced himself to meet your gaze, you deserved that at least. “Do you want to be with them?” he asked.

“I want to be with you,” you promised him without hesitation, already knowing where his mind was probably going. “I…I do like Ed and Stede, and I know you do too. I’m willing to give this a try if that’s something you want, but I promise you, Iz, I am not leaving you for them. I love you.” You knew that honesty was the only way to talk about this properly, but you wanted to make sure he didn’t get the wrong idea. You were with him, no matter what he wanted.

“But…what if you end up liking them more?” Izzy’s question just broke your heart, he sounded so small, but at the same time you were so proud of him for allowing himself to be so vulnerable.

“That’s never going to happen, it’s not possible. Even if I love them, I will always love you just as much, that will never change,” you kept one hand around his, bringing your other hand up to his cheek, hoping to ease the tension between his brows. “I know you love Ed, have for a long time, and I know you’ve been growing fond of Stede. That doesn’t mean you love me any less does it?” you asked and Izzy frantically shook his head. “I’m here no matter what you decide, I love you.”

Izzy would never understand how you were so good at this, at handling him and reassuring him. “I love you too,” even after all this time, he always said those words with the same devotion as he did the first time.

You smiled and lent in to give him a chaste kiss, just to make sure he got the point.

To the side of you both, somebody cleared their throat. You pulled away from Izzy, dropping your hand from his cheek, as you both turned to look at the captains. They were watching you both fondly.

“I, uh…that was a lot. Is everyone…are you alright to speak about this?” Stede asked. He really did feel like he was getting good at the whole ‘communicating thing’.

You looked back at Izzy, letting him decide whether he wanted to talk now or if he needed some time. He nodded and you looked at the captains again. “Yeah, we want to talk about it.”

Izzy’s hand never once left yours, even when Edward took hold of his other hand, even when Stede pressed kisses to each of your knuckles.

The four of you were up until the early hours of the morning, fueled by coffee and unspoken feelings, talking about feelings new and old. Considering how a relationship between the four of you might look, how the four of you might navigate it.

Stede had suggested a ‘proper courting period’, and then gone on to explain what that might consist of.

Things would stay mostly the same but the four of you would be courting each other, knowing that the intentions are romantic in nature. You would take things slow, make sure everyone was comfortable and let things progress naturally. You wouldn’t rush or force anything. If it felt right then you knew you were doing the right thing, if it felt wrong the four of you could go back to normal, even if it was a little disappointing.

The next morning you woke up, still in the captain’s cabin with your beloved partner and two possible partners. Propped up against Izzy’s chest with Edward’s head in your lap and Stede’s head on your shoulder, drooling slightly.

It was only the first day of whatever this was but you felt good about it, felt good about the way the four of you fit together even in your sleep. You didn’t want to be the one to disturb the three men, so you just cuddled back into Izzy and buried your hand in Edward’s hair.

#izzy hands x reader #stede bonnet x reader #edward teach x reader #steddyhands #steddy hands #steddyhands x reader #ofmd x reader

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that-basic-simp · 2 years

Text

Valentine

Quietly sneaking around the house, I avoided the planks of wood that I knew creaked no matter how much pressure I would put on it. Opening the door quietly, I peeked over my shoulder to see Y/N was still asleep. I smiled to myself and walked outside, closing the door behind me and headed into town. It was fairly early, but I wanted to get it done as soon as I could so that I could have everything ready for tonight.

Opening my eyes, I looked around the room to find Odessa was not beside me. Peeking at the clock nearby, I groaned as I had to get up to get ready for work. Slowly rising from the bed, I stretched before getting up and getting changed. Once I was changed and ready to go, I grabbed what I needed and was about to head out, but as I walked past my dresser, there was something on there with a note. The note was folded and my name was on it with Odessa's messy, but cursive handwriting. Reaching down, I opened up the note and read through it.

"Princess,

I had to go out and do some things earlier than usual. I won't be able to stop by the warehouse as today is very busy. However, I do have something special planned for tonight. In the bag is one thing you'll need tonight other than your best outfit. See you at home later tonight.

Love,

Dez."

I set the note down and opened up the little bag to find lipstick. I opened it up to see it was a bright red. Being confused, I set it down on the dresser and headed outside, locking the door behind me. I walked towards the warehouse and as I was walking around, I noticed the couples were out and about more than they usually are. There was a lot of love in the air and I couldn't quite put my finger on it. Unlocking the large door and sliding it aside, I walked into the warehouse and got my apron on, getting ready to work. Meri and Geiger came in and I greeted them.

"Aye, Meri. Is today a special day?"

"Why do ya ask?"

"I saw a lot more couples than I usually do today. And they were being a bit more lovey dovey."

"Today is February 14th."

"Meaning?"

"Valentine's Day."

"Ah shit!" I yelled.

"Forget it was today?"

"Yes."

"Did ya get Odessa anything?"

"Shit, no I didn't. But I can certainly make her something."

I ran into my office and unlocked it. My father always had gemstones and rare diamonds in here for anyone who wanted to use them. He never sold them because he wanted someone to use them, adding more monetary value to it. I grabbed some of the gemstones, but left the diamonds alone. Walking out of the office and locking the door, I walked over to my workbench and stood there, trying to think of what I could do.

An idea popped into my head and I started to make it. While she's not really one for jewelry other than her earrings, I decided to make a set of earrings to go along with another crown I was going to make her. While the crown she has now is very normal and kind of bland, I wanted to make something special for her.

Once I finished everything, I wrapped them carefully up before putting them into a bag. The work day came to an end and I said goodbye to Meri and Geiger before I headed back home. When I reached home, the door was already unlocked. The bathroom door was closed, which I presumed Odessa was in there getting ready for tonight. I walked into the house, closed the door, and walked into the bedroom. I set the bag down on my dresser before figuring out what to wear.

Getting everything together, I put it on and looked at myself in the mirror of my dresser. Nodding and smiling to myself, I knew this was the outfit. I had black leggings on with some nice shoes and a nice shirt. It wasn't much since it didn't really fit the aesthetic of Junkertown. But it was nice enough to go out. The door to the bathroom opened up and Odessa walked out, wearing something a bit nicer than what she normally wears. I smiled at her, feeling my heart racing as she smiled back at me.

"Ya look lovely, princess," she smiled at me.

"Thank you, Dez. You look wonderful, too," I said as she walked over to me.

Her hair was out of the normal mohawk and braids, but it wasn't straight down. It was pushed back a bit to where it looked similar to her mohawk.

"Ya ready?"

"Yeah. W-What was this about?" I asked, picking up the lipstick.

"Ya didn't put it on?"

"No. I wanted to know what it's for."

"Just think about this, Y/N," she leaned down and whispered in my ear. "When ya kiss me, it'll leave a mark."

"Oh, I-I see," I said, my cheeks flushing into a light pink.

"Here, let me help ya," she said and took the small tube.

She uncapped it and twisted it up to a small portion came out from the top. Grabbing my jaw lightly, she tilted my head up as she slowly dragged the lipstick across my lips.

"There we are," she said. "Give it a try."

I pulled her down to my level and placed a kiss to her cheek. As I pulled away, there was a mark left behind. A smirk appeared on my face.

"Oh, I am going to love this," I said.

"But alas, we gotta wait until after dinner, princess."

"Ya mean I gotta wait that long?"

"Yes. It won't be that long. I promise."

We walked out of the house and back into town, heading to the place Odessa was able to get a reservation at. She could get a place anywhere since she was the Queen, but she chose this specific place because it was the place we went to on our first official date since we moved back into Junkertown. A lot of couples were there tonight and there were single people trying to hook up with other people. Someone even tried to do it with me, but after Odessa got snippy with them, they were on their way. While we were out, someone even complimented on how Odessa looks compared to what she usually looks like. She was a bit stunned since I was the only one to give her a compliment.

After dinner was finished, we headed back home to spend the rest of the night together. But while we were walking back home, she mentioned about leaving something in the office building, so we stopped there. Since she was only running in, I was waiting outside for her. I watched as some of the other couples were walking with one another. I smiled to myself, thinking about the time Odessa and I came together. The door opened up and she walked out with a small boquet of roses.

"Aw, Odessa," I looked up into her eyes. "Ya didn't need to do this."

"I wanted to, princess. Wanted to give ya something special as well."

She handed me a small box, "W-Wait until we get home to open it."

"Alright."

We headed back home and upon entering, Odessa found a vase to put the roses in and set them on the table in the other room. She came into the bedroom and I had what I made her on her bedside table.

"Did ya get me somethin', princess?"

"I did."

"Now why go and do that?" she chuckled. "You're a gift in and of itself, princess. You're all I need."

"I know, but I wanted to think of somethin' for ya."

"Ya want to open yours up first?"

"You can open yours first."

"Alright," she said and grabbed the bag.

She opened it up and saw the two things I made for her. A wide smile appeared on her face as she turned to look at me.

"I love it, princess," she said and kissed my cheek. "Thank you."

"I want to see ya with the new crown on," I said and reached into the bag, placing it on her head.

"How do I look?"

"Stunning," I smiled.

"Alright, I've been waitin' all day for you to open yours up."

I opened up the small box to see there was a gold locket in it. A small gasp escaped my lips as I opened it up, seeing there were two pictures in it. One was of me and my family while the other was the night Odessa and I got married. A tear slid down my face as I turned and hugged Odessa.

"Thank you, Odessa. I love it."

"You're welcome, princess," she said and hugged my tightly.

We put everything on the bedside table before Odessa pinned me to the bed.

"Now, as I mentioned before, mark me up, princess."

"Well this is certainly not the right position for you to demand such a thing," I said and rolled over, pushing her to the bed.

Now being on top of her, I leaned down and placed my lips against hers. I pecked her lips over and over before I started a make out with her. It was rough and a tad sloppy at times. I pulled away after a bit, both of us breathing heavily as I looked at the red smear that was across Odessa's lips.

"My body is yours tonight, princess."

"I can say the same thing."

She chuckled, "I wouldn't want it any other way."

Looking at the aftermath we both caused, I couldn't help but smile. I took note of the red smear marks that were running down from Odessa's lips to her neck, top of her chest, her abs, and the inside of her thighs. I knew she did the same thing in the exact same areas on my body, but hers were going to last a bit longer. Turning to face me, she wrapped her arms around my waist and pulled me closer to her. I smiled and nuzzled into the crook of her neck.

"Goodnight, princess," she smiled, pressing a kiss to my forehead. "I love you."

"Goodnight, Dez," I said, closing my eyes and feeling the warmth coming from her. "I love you, too."

#junkerqueen #queen of junkertown #junker queen #odessa stone #odessa dez stone #overwatch2 #junker queen x reader #this woman i swear

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sword-brainrot · 3 years

Note

How would Kashuu, Houchou and Tomoegata react to an official who tries to woo the saniwa?

Time Government Official tries to woo Saniwa (GN!Reader)

♡ Kashuu and the Saniwa were at the Time Government HQ to drop off the recent supports for the HRA Invasion research. Normally such paperwork would either be mailed in or an official would come to the citadel to get it themselves.

♡ Due to the gravity of the situation, such documents were required to be delivered to the HQ right away in case it could help make a breakthrough on such an awful event happening.

♡ Kashuu was the sword assigned to be Saniwa's personal bodyguard for this trip... You can never be too safe now a days.

♡ However there was one thing he didn't plan for...

♡ A man with long, curled, black hair that was shaved on the left side and green eyes lit up when he saw Saniwa appear with their paperwork.

♡ "Angel, if you told me you were coming today, I would of dressed up nicer for you." He commented to the Saniwa who looked almost taken aback as Kashuu was.

♡ "Do you know him, aruji?" Kashuu whispered. A ping of anger rushing through his gut as he heard the way he spoke to his master.

♡ "He is just an official I have talked to a few times... We aren't close."

♡ Not close, huh? Meaning that Kashuu didn't have to be nice.

♡ "You really should of dressed up nicer. You came into work looking like that? This isn't time be in your lounge wear... I see stains all over that poor white shirt."

♡ It was now time for him and the Saniwa to look at Kashuu in shock. All the while, a proud smile on Kashuu face. He wasn't sure exactly what it was but the way he talked to his saniwa irked him beyond belief and wanted to make it stop right then and there.

♡ "Since we are in a busy situation, something you clearly don't know about since you are living the good life while aruji puts their life on the line, we will be going. Enjoy the paperwork." He took the folder out of their hands and slide it over to him.

♡ His hand gently grabbed Saniwa's and lead them out. Part of him felt shame for letting such an ugly emotion out in front of someone he held so dear to him... But he couldn't help it. He couldn't just stand there and watch that.

♡ "You still think I'm a pretty sword... Right?" He whispered to them.

♡ "Of course I do. I also know you have emotions Kashuu. I won't leave your side just because of that."

♡ "Better not. I want to be the most loved. So I can't let that guy steal you away from me."

♡ Houchou heard there was a visitor at the door asking for his saniwa. Being the nosy tantou he was, he walked to the front of the citadel and opened the door.

♡ He was greeted by a Time Government Official with rough golden skin, short, straight, blond hair and brown eyes. He held a platycodon bouquet in his hands and a shocked expression when he saw it wasn't the saniwa that opened the door.

♡ "Oh hello. Is (Y/N) coming?"

♡ (Y/N)? (Y/N)!? How dare he use your name so casually like that!

♡ "Why do you need aruji...?" Hanchou asked, as he put a gummy bear into his mouth and sharpened his gaze at the man. He was trying real hard to be intimidating... but he is a little too cute for that.

♡ "I was going to ask them out on a date. These flowers are for them." He grinned. "We never talked before but I wanted to strike up my chance with them."

♡ Hanchou looked behind him to make sure that no one was close before he drew his attention to the stranger in front of him. "Aruji is sick right now..." He lied and gave a sad face. "But I can give those flowers to them for you!"

♡ He thought it over for a few seconds before finally giving in and gave the bouquet to Hanchou. "Please let them know I'm hoping they recover soon and to come to the HQ if they want that date-"

♡ "Uh huh." After getting the flowers, Hanchou closed the door in his face and skipped down the hall to Saniwa's study.

♡ Looking over the flowers to make sure there was no note that could out him about what he had just done.

♡ Before he even got to their room, Saniwa was making their way down the hall to go to the front door.

♡ "Aruji!! Aruji!!!" Hanchou cheerfully squealed as he ran up to them, holding the large bouquet out to them. "I got this for you!! Do you like them?"

♡ You couldn't help but blink for a few seconds before leaning down and admiring the beautiful flowers. "These are lovely, Hanchou. How did you get them?" They asked as they took the flowers and hugged the small tantou.

♡ He quickly returned the hug. "I saved up my allowance to get you a gift!" Hanchou smirked into their shoulder as the saniwa thanked him. No one needed to know Hanchou little secret.

♡ A time government official made her way into the citadel to discuss something important with the Saniwa. Tomoegata was currently the assigned attendant to the saniwa, so it was his job to guide any guests to the meeting room and make sure saniwa knew of the unexpected guest.

♡ When Tomoegata arrived to his saniwa's office to tell them of the news, the saniwa was flustered over the sudden visit. Clearly not told beforehand at all. He told them that they would meet them in the meeting room after he made tea for everyone.

♡ The tray was set with three cups and a pot full of chamomile.

♡ "Please excuse me." He called out as he opened the door and pulled in the tea cart. Only to witness the girl with short, wavy, black hair and brown eyes be drawn very close to his saniwa and touching their arm.

♡ The Saniwa looked very uncomfortable. Tomoegata's mouth was left agape from the scene before him as he walked over to the table and put the two cups very far apart.

♡ "I will ask you to unhand my master since they clearly are uncomfortable by your advances, miss." His tall form stood over her and casted a shadow over her.

♡ It looked as if she was debating it before slowly moving away and to the seat with her cup.

♡ Tomoegata gave a look to ask if his master was truly okay... only receiving a shaky nod in return. He decided that tea, in the end, was not needed for the discussion.

♡ "It seems my aruji is not feeling well today. What is it that you came here for that was so important you didn't give notice?" He asked. His voice firm and strict. Something normally Tomoegata didn't do since he knew the people around him were more experienced and he had much to learn.

♡ "Ah... Did I really need a reason to come see their cute face?"

♡ "Yes. As aruji's face is not there for your pleasure. If you have nothing to discuss, please follow me to the exit. Now."

♡ His brows furrowed as he gestured to the doorway, away from his saniwa. You could see the wheels in her head turning as if trying to figure a reason to stay and flirt more with her crush. Clearly not being a fan of this Naginata... She decided it was best to retreat for now.

♡ Before Tomoegata left to show her the way, he poured his master a cup of tea. "Please take all the time you need, aruji. I will return quickly to heed any call you may give."

♡ His sharp gaze returned once more when his eyes landed on her and walked in front to lead her away from the one he held dear. He would never admit it to anyone... But that was the first time Tomoegata felt true anger. He didn't realized it until the moon rose in the sky and he talked to Kokindenjunotachi about what occurred in the afternoon.

♡ He learned from his soothing words that those emotions were rather normal and sometimes were called jealousy. A part of him was scared that he could hold just burning emotions inside him that clouded his mind... but the other side made him feel like he could float on a cloud from understanding another part of being human and could connect closer to his Saniwa.

#Touken Ranbu #Touken Danshi #Tourabu #Touken Ranbu Headcanons #Touken Ranbu Imagines #Touken Ranbu x Reader #TKRB #TKRB Headcanons #TKRB Imagines #TKRB x Reader #Kashuu Kiyomitsu #Kashuu Kiyomitsu x Reader #Houchou Toushirou #Houchou Toushirou & Reader #Tomoegata Naginata #Tomoegata Naginata x Reader

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seiyasabi · 3 years

Text

Fixation

(This is a Yandere Yelena x Fem Reader story ;)) This takes place in a Modern AU outside of the anime, and I won’t justify my reasoning lmao

TW: Coercion, !Drugging!, Manipulation, !Noncon!, !Dubcon!, Daddy kink (ehehe), spanking, she’s a straight up Dom w her tall ass, kinda a meanie, degradation!, handcuffs!, use of sex toys!, Overstim!, size kink!, dumbification?, unwanted filming!, etc..

Proceed with caution! Sorry if this is too self indulgent lmao, when women (lesbians) talk to me, I become the biggest idiot to ever exist :)) )

Today wasn’t the best day to wear a skirt.

Begrudgingly smoothing down the lilac fabric of your skirt, you huff indignantly. All you wanted to do was look cute for your crush, Marco, but it seems that that was too much to ask for.

Your white sweater, at least, keeps you somewhat warm from the harsh wind. It’s tucked into the waistband of your high waisted skirt, and your thigh high socks push the fat of your cute thighs out slightly. The sound of your white sneakers against the pavement is drowned out by your classmates’ loud voices, and you’re seemingly unaware of a certain black-eyed glare.

Seeing your classroom come into view, you hurry inside, sliding into your lab assigned seat. Eyeing the dark haired male of your dreams, you can’t help but sigh pathetically at the fact that he hasn’t noticed you. Up until recently, the two of you were great friends-always hanging out and texting one another. But, the moment the both of you picked up this class, everything changed.

Hearing the seat next to you slide open, you glance up at your seatmate. Smiling up at the tall woman, you greet her kindly, “Hi, Lena! How’re you today?”

The Russian exchange student smirks down at you, as she plops onto the seat, “Good, now that you’re here.”

Laughing at her gruff words, you wave her off, “You always say that,” Zipping open your backpack, you pull out your class notes, “What’re you going to do this weekend?”

Her smirk widens, dark eyes gleaming, “Why? Asking me on a date?” You laugh once more, completely oblivious to her hopeful tone.

“You’re so funny, Lena,” Pulling out your pack of multicoloured pens, you start to set up for your class, “I just heard you speaking with Annie about ‘something big’ the other day, so I became curious.”

Not one to acknowledge boundaries, the blonde woman starts to play with your (hair/sweater), “I’m throwing a party, one you should come to,” Her tone leaves no room to negotiate, but you don’t really notice. Nodding, you smile up at her.

“Sounds fun! When is it and who’s going?” Her hand trails down to your thigh, fiddling with your sock. Brushing off your mild alarm at her ministrations, you justify her actions through your cultural differences.

“Tonight at eight. Annie and her friends should be there, same with Marco and a few others,” She name dropped the kind man on purpose, knowing your misguided infatuation with him. If only you knew how much of a pussy he is. All she did was threaten him once, and suddenly he stayed clear of you. It made her life easier, sure, but it annoyed her that he dropped you like a gutted fish. You’re too good for that.

Pulling out your phone, you pull up your calendar, showcasing that you have no plans this evening, “Okay, I can go!”

Her smirk grows wider than before, “Great,” Yelena’s accent seemingly grows thicker, her r rolling more harshly than before.

With that, class begins without a hitch; Yelena’s hand still glued to your perfect thigh.

Stepping out of your car, you readjust your new outfit. Keeping the thigh highs from earlier, you changed your lilac skirt for a black, body con one, along with a cropped, black long sleeve shirt that accentuates your cleavage.

Slamming your car door shut, you lock it with your key, before heading towards Yelena’s luxurious flat. You can hear low music and voices from her open top floor balcony, multiple shadows moving inside her home.

With a fast beating heart, you can’t help but hope that Marco will speak with you tonight. With that hope deep in your chest, you step inside the fancy building’s lobby. Approaching the front desk, you go to show them your ID, but are met with brightly smiling faces.

“Go on up to the tenth floor, (Your Name)! Yelena already told us that you’re coming!” Surprise overcomes your form. Why do they know you by appearance alone? You’ve never even been here before.

“Oh, okay! Thank you,” Deciding to ignore the weird situation at hand, you head towards the lift. Pressing the button, you wait a few moments, before stepping into the open lift doors. The sleek metal walls reflect your appearance back at you, whilst you press the pristine ‘10’ button. With a small beep, the lift begins to move, practically flying at top speed to the top floor.

Once at the tenth floor, the doors fly open, showing what looks to be a living room. You can’t help but gawk at the large flat displayed before you. Your classmate must be quite wealthy to afford a place like this.

You awkwardly make your way inside, and are immediately greeted by the party’s host, “Hey, (Your Name), welcome!” You’re side hugged by a buff arm, practically slammed into Yelena’s torso.

“Hey, thanks for having me!” You pat her back in an attempt to have her let you go, but instead, it seems to spur her on. She drags you towards a large L-shaped couch, which is filled by Annie, Reiner, and Bertholdt. A handful of others sit at her dining room table and kitchen counter, the open concept allowing everyone to see and speak to each other comfortably.

Reiner glances up from the story he’s telling Historia and Ymir, a grin painting his handsome features, “Whoa, that’s a new look for you, (Your Name)!”

Multiple eyes are suddenly glued to your now self conscious form, an uneasy smile on your face, “Hello, everyone.”

“Don’t get me wrong, you look great! It’s just really different from your normal, cute clothes,” People nod and agree with the large man, causing you to break out in a nervous sweat.

“Well, I hope I don’t look too bad,” You joke halfheartedly, “I just wanted to try something new.”

Yelena takes your appearance in, practically salivating. Whilst she does enjoy your usual clothing, this look fits you quite well.

“You look very nice,” Bertholdt reassures soothingly, patting the spot by him, “You can sit next to me, if you’d like.”

The short haired woman glued to your side reacts immediately, “No, the girl needs a drink,” Annie shoots her a knowing look, which she nods to in response. You’re practically ragdolled to the kitchen bar, as the conversation starts up once more. Once at the marble countertop, the large woman releases you in favour of pouring you a cup of spiked punch, “This is very good. Made it myself.”

You give her a bright smile, accepting the red solo cup, “Cool! I’m sure it’s delicious!” Bringing the cup to your (lipstick/chapstick/lipgloss) coated lips, you take a small sip. A burst of fruity goodness explodes on your tastebuds, making your eyes widen in surprise. You can’t taste a drop of alcohol in it, “Wow! This is really good!”

A proud grin overtakes her lips, as she nods her thanks, “Of course it is. I knew you were coming, after all,” You laugh in response, and take another sip of the red liquid.

“I see! Well, you have a very nice home!” The tall woman leans against the counter, holding herself up with an arm that goes behind your form.

“Thank you. It’s very spacious. I find myself lonely at times,” Her large, black eyes stare down at you, trying to send you a message through them alone.

“Oh, well, have you tried getting a roommate? Maybe the flat won’t be so empty,” She nods at your words.

“Yes, that’s a good idea. Would you be my roommate?” You laugh, thinking that she’s joking. Not bothering to look up, as you take another swig of your drink, you don’t see the somewhat hurt look on her face.

“That would be something! Not only are we seatmates, but we’re also roommates,” You giggle some more, taking more sips of your delicious drink, “But, your flat is a lot nicer than mine. I may take up on your offer.”

Looking up, you see her grin at you approvingly, “Yes, that would be nice,” What you don’t know is that her lease is almost up, making it so she has paperwork she needs to fill out. Paperwork that would look great with your co-sign on it.

Three drinks in, and you’re feeling a bit woozy. Typically, you’re not a lightweight, but it seems that you are tonight.

Leaning your upper body onto Yelena’s strong form, you laugh hysterically at something Reiner says, “Oh my God, you’re hilarious-” You cut yourself off with a snort, causing the entire room to laugh at your cute giggling.

The short haired woman you’re currently using as a pillow holds you tenderly, a pleased smile on her face. The stuff Annie gave her works very well.

“Man, if you weren’t Yelena’s girl, I would’ve cuffed you a semester ago!” Reiner roars wholeheartedly, slapping the leather couch below him.

In your cloudy mind, you barely understand the words he just said, “Haha, wha-?”

Pushing your head into her breasts, Yelena shushes you, “My poor baby is such a lightweight,” She and the others chuckle at that understatement, “I think it’s time to turn in for the night.”

Her civil way of kicking everyone out was enough, as everyone trickles out of her luxurious flat. Once the last person leaves, Yelena stands to her feet, scooping you up in her buff arms. She goes to her lift, pressing the lock input, she types in the lock code, not allowing anyone in or out of her home. Your high mind can barely comprehend what’s going on around you.

She hums an unknown tune, as she goes up her steps to her master bedroom. Kicking open the door, she flips on her bedroom light with her elbow, before shutting the door with her foot. Sauntering to her California King sized bed, she lays your drugged out form on her light grey coloured sheets.

“-Lena, wha-” Your head lulls to the side as you giggle uncontrollably, “-Are- are we dating?” She hums in response, starting to pull down your skirt.

“Yes, my Darling Girl,” She smooches your forehead, “We’ve been together since I moved here,” Pulling your skirt’s fabric down and off of your legs, she tosses it on the floor, exposing your pink panties.

“Bu-but, I like Marco,” You weakly attempt to push her grabby hands away from you, “I-I wan’ Marco!”

The feelings of disgust, envy, and fury overwhelm her all at once. How dare you! She’s always treated you so well, that spineless fucker doesn’t deserve anything from you! He especially doesn’t deserve your wonderful heart!

She says nothing, grabbing your blouse, and chucking it off of you. Your breasts jiggle at her ministrations, your bra just barely containing your tits. Seeing your almost bare, perfect body makes her pussy tingle, but her anger outweighs her arousal.

Settling on the bed, she grasps your boneless body, and pulls you over her knees. You’re still muttering and questioning the validity of your relationship, all whilst saying that horrible boy’s name, causing her to cup the fat of your ass and squeeze harshly.

“Baby, you know better than to say those horrible things. I love you very much, and it hurts to hear you say that.”

Your breasts, arms, and head rest over her left knee, as you try to look up at her stern face, “But-”

“No buts, you know what happens when you act like a brat,” She slaps your ass experimentally, earning a pained yelp. A small smirk covers her lips, and she hits your ass as hard as she can.

“‘M sorry! ‘M sorry! I didn’t mean it!” Your pleading is cute, so cute.

“I know you didn’t, Princess. But I have to remind you of your place,” She slams her hand down once more, jolting your entire body. A shrill cry leaves your lips, as you try to move off of her lap, but seemingly can’t find the strength to do so.

After five more smacks, the blonde pulls you onto her lap in a straddling position. One of her arms wraps around your top half, pushing your crying face into her neck. The other is wrapped around your waist, hand smoothing over your bruising ass, and playing with the hem of your panties.

“Don’t cry, Princess. You know I had to set you straight,” She coos, “Your stupid, little brain is far too gone to understand at the moment, but you will once you sober up. So, for now, let your Daddy make you feel good.”

You mutter nonsensical words in between your sobs, but the large woman isn’t put off. After she’s done with you, you’ll never think of that freckled fuck ever again. At least, you won’t unless you want him dead.

Wrestling your pliant body to the mattress once more, she leaves you on the bed by yourself, before rolling onto the left side. Opening the top drawer of her nightstand, she pulls out a pair of handcuffs, a battery powered hitachi wand, duct tape, and a small bottle of lube. Setting them on the bed by your writhing form, she quickly makes her way back to you.

“Shh, it’s alright, Princess. I’m right here,” Yelena reaches under you, fiddling with your bra’s hooks until it pops open, allowing her to slide your useless arms out of the garment. Tossing it aside, she sucks in a deep breath, enjoying the view of your plush chest. Experimentally, she pinches your right nipple, relishing the small moan you let out at the feeling. Gripping the handcuffs next to you, she feeds your dainty wrists through the opening, popping the pink, plush cuffs on tightly. Happy with the result, she continues her endeavour.

Moving farther down your body, she leaves your socks on, loving how your thigh fat squishes up a bit. Grabbing the hem of your cute, pink panties, she pushes them off of you, exposing your pretty cunny. It separates from you with a small string of slick, filling Yel with a sense of satisfaction. You’re her perfect pain slut, aren’t you?

Pushing on your pliant legs open, she smiles happily down at you, dark eyes blown wide open, “Awe, is your slutty pussy wet for me?”

You shake your head rapidly, disorienting yourself more than before, “Nu-no! It’s not!” She clicks her tongue teasingly, her smile growing wider than before.

“Don’t lie to me, Princess. Now I have to punish you once more,” Forcing your legs open, she holds them down with her own, straddling your waist. Her large form easily overpowers you, as she grabs the blue hitachi wand, and flips it on to the highest setting. Pushing it against your clit with a swift motion, your entire body jolts at the sudden stimulation. A loud whine leaves your lips, as you try to buck it off of your sensitive cunny.

“Puh-please! Take it off! It’s too much!” Yelena snickers in delight, ignoring your pleading. Grabbing the duct tape from beside you, she rips off a few long strips, before smacking them onto your skin and the vibrator, effectively keeping it attached to you.

Your moans and whimpers continue to grow louder and louder, as you try your best not to cum. You bite your lips in the hopes of stifling yourself, but it does little to help. If anything, it just spurs the large woman on.

“Go on, cum for me, cum for Daddy,” You shake your head, a few keens falling from your mouth, as she watches in awe at the way your cunny leaks and clenches around nothing.

Your toes curl in ecstasy as you cum, a loud whine escaping you. A gush of your orgasm flows from you, wetting the blonde woman and the mattress below. Two long, slender fingers prod at your slick pussy, forcing themselves inside your sensitive walls.

“Good Girl, You’re so Good for me,” They Start to move in a ‘come hither’ motion, hitting your g-spot repeatedly with how long her fingers are.

“Too much! Too much!” You cry, as she quickly brings you over the edge once more.

More slick sprays from your cunny, as overstimulation begins to set in. Yelena captures your lips with hers, thrusting her tongue into your mouth. The kiss is wet and hot, as she grips at your plush chest.

“No, no it’s not, Baby. It’s not enough,” Fumbling with her fly, she releases the strap she’s been wearing all night. In all honesty, she’s surprised that you hadn’t noticed the bulge or felt it underneath your ass earlier. It’s a good ten inches in length, and around 5.5 inches of girth.

It is pretty intimidating for most, but due to your fucked out stupor, it should feel amazing for you. Grabbing the lube, she squeezes a small amount onto the silicone cock, smoothing it over the toy in sync with her fingers pumping inside of you.

Deeming the toy and your cunny ready, she makes the next move. Sliding off of your numb legs, she stands to her feet, towering over you in all of her glory. Hefting you up and off of the mattress, she quickly punched your back against her pristine, white wall. Forcing your arms around the back of her head, she continues to kiss your drooly mouth vigorously.

Wrapping your legs around her slender waist, her large leg muscles and arms work to hold you up. Guiding your dripping cunny over the tip of her strap, she slowly sinks you onto it.

A keen of both surprise and pleasure rips out of your throat, as you grip onto her short, blonde locks. Giggling, she bucks her hips into yours sharply, causing you to orgasm on the spot. The vibrator and her strap on feels like heaven.

Throwing your head back in bliss, you feel your arousal drip onto her dress pants, creating even more wet spots than before. Separating from your lips, she grins down at you.

“Look at you, dirty Girl,” She spanks your ass harshly with one hand, as she continues a hardcore pace. The tip of the silicone cock batters against your cervix, causing you to cry out in both pleasure and pain, “You love it when Daddy ruins your pussy, don’t you?”

Too fucked out to think properly, you nod your head vigorously, “Uh-huh! Uh-huh! I love Daddy’s cock!” She kisses your cheek tenderly, not stopping her thrusts for even a moment. Moving her lips down your vulnerable neck, she starts to suck the tender skin, leaving dark love marks on your pretty skin.

“Mmm, good Princess! Since you’re such a good girl, I think you deserve a treat. Do you want a treat? Does your dumb little mind even understand what I’m saying?” You nod once again, eyes teary and pleading.

“Yes! Yes! I want a treat, please, Daddy!” Smirking against your skin, she reaches into her pocket from around your thigh.

“Since you asked so nicely-“ She presses the injector lever, shooting a large load of fake cum into your gummy, needy pussy. You cum almost immediately, this clearly being the biggest orgasm of the night, as you practically convulse and squirt a geyser of cum all over the place, “I think you deserve Daddy’s cum inside you.”

You practically sob at the overstimulation and the feeling of being so full, “Thank you! Thank you, Daddy!” You kiss her of your own volition, surprising the large woman. Her heart warms, loving how you’ve become so submissive.

Cradling you’re form to her muscular body, she saunters back towards the bed, pushing any other objects off and into the night side table.

Placing you on the now dry sheets, she quickly flicks off the vibrator still taped to your clit, before placing it on the table beside her. Plucking off the duct tape, she then takes off your handcuffs, effectively freeing you. Instead of moving away from the woman, you lay there tiredly, no longer processing the situation.

Sighing in content, Yelena grabs a hand towel from the drawer she keeps her sex toys in, and wrestles it under your hips. Smiling, she removes the strap from inside of you, enjoying the sight of the fake cum flooding out of you.

Laying next to you, she pulls your head into her chest, curling around you as if she were a safety blanket.

“You did well, Princess,” You don’t say anything, snuggling into her warmth, “Go to sleep, tomorrow we’ll announce our official status, okay?”

An slurred ‘Okie’ is heard, before you slip into unconsciousness. Cupping your face in appreciation, her dark eyes glance in the direction of a small green light coming from her video camera.

Now you’ll have to date her; after all, you wouldn’t want your sex tape to get out, would you?

#yelena #yelena x reader #yandere yelena #yandere aot #yelena brainrot #yelena aot #aot x reader #yelena thirst #yelena smut #yelena supremacy #yandere aot x reader

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roscgcld · 4 years

Text

HEADCANONS + NANAMI KENTO || relationship things

anime: jujutsu kaisen

character: nanami kento

pronouns: them/they

note: let’s be honest here, nanami is honestly so hot. like hello - simp worthy man right here. even though my manga reader heart clenches, nanami is still one of the most badass characters in the series. period.

i read somewhere that nanami is an ‘all or not’ kinda guy - meaning he dates with the idea that one day you two might get married. and lowkey, super true. if you are not interested with the idea of settling down permanently, might as well stop where you are and loose his number

it takes a little more coaxing and babying for him to open up about work, sorcerer or not - the reason is because he hates bringing work back home. what happens at work, stays at work

even though others find it hard to read him, you can read him like an open book - you just know all the subtle changes of his mood that you can tell what mood he is in

your parents love him - i bet the first time they met him, there was no way they wanted you to break up with him. he’s so polite, with warm smiles and even bringing gifts to visit them

they asked you to marry the man right that moment; which had nanami smirking the rest of the night

never forgets any dates - anniversaries, birthdays, dates to visit families, dates. you can never catch him slipping

loves it whenever you’d help him with his ties in the morning; it was just cute to see you carefully knotting the tie and tucking it beneath his jacket. it’s a small moment of peace for you two

enjoys coming home to you with your arms open and a loving smile on his face after a long day at work, wrapping your arms around him before pressing a soft kiss on his cheek in greeting

weekly dates - he feels like his line of work always drags him away from you, so he’d bring you out on dates on friday to shower you in love and attention

will probably show affection through acts of service - bringing you tea at night when you’re cold, helping with the laundry on weekends, picking up the groceries on the way home from work

enjoys coordinated couple outfits - would purposefully wear a red button up shirt to a dinner party if you decide to wear something red, or the changes his iconic printed tie to follow the colour of your outfit

by the way, you got him that tie - hence why he made it apart of his Binding Vow with himself

you still don’t understand why puts a cap on his power, but you don’t question it after awhile; he’s strong regardless, so you don’t worry too much

think you two might also enjoy sitting in the bath together; there is just something so intimate with both of you pressed together underneath a sea of bubbles, feeling your fingers running through his wet hair to work out all of the hair product he uses in the day

likes spoiling you with things, but doesn’t go to the extreme of buying you everything you want

if he knows you’ve been eyeing something for awhile, he’d get it for you wordlessly and surprise you with it on a normal day

loves buying pastries for the both of you to try - even if he himself doesn’t enjoy a lot of sweets. but he likes seeing you smile

will give you his suit jackets if you’re cold, no matter where you are and who you’re with. he is not going to let his lover get cold

secretly enjoys watching cheesy tv shows - more so because he doesn’t really need to focus on it and at least there is something playing in the background

has your picture as his homescreen - his lock screen will either the default one that comes with his phone. so he can be discrete about your relationship

no one will know about you two, even if you work together in Jujutsu Tech. People just assume you two are co-workers, and he wants to keep it that way since he hates having others in his business

especially gojo - there is no way he wants this information going to him

when you two finally go public, gojo will be so upset and pout at his junior the entire time

“you two have been dating for so long and you didn’t tell me?! Your favourite senpai?!”

“and I would have kept it that way for longer.” nanami answered back simply whilst you just gently hit his chest, scolding him wordlessly at how he should be nicer to his senior whilst he just smirks at you

conclusion: a simple man who enjoys the simple pleasures in life with you by his side, and would try and spend every waking moment with you; but without overstepping boundaries. you can tease him about being too uptight or have manners like an old man, but he’s still husband material and will treat you right

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mjfsupremacy · 2 years

Text

MJF on holiday

You are on holiday wearing your favorite wrestling shirt when you happen to see MJF during his time away.

This is literally nothing but it is inspired by that girl who posted on instagram that MJF made her promise not to post the photos they took until he came back.

You are standing in the city square when you spot him.

Maxwell Jacob Friedman.

You glance down at the oversized shirt you’re wearing, his smirking face emblazoned on your chest and your insides shrivel up in mortification. You literally can’t think of anything more embarrassing than the idea of meeting one of your favourite wrestlers (you have anxiety and you always found meet and greets a little cringy) but to meet them in a random sunny square, while on holiday, while wearing their face. You think you might actually die.

He is exploring the square just like you were with your best friend and despite only being a few meters away he hasn’t spotted you. You take that as a sign and turn on your heel only making it half a step before your best friend asks, “Hey isn’t that the Wrestler you’re in love with?” Normally you find that fact that your best friend doesn’t have an inside voice amusing. Today, as you wince and turn to face her with a mortified glare, you wish someone had ripped her vocal cords out as a child.

Sure, you had a teeny-tiny crush on MJF, but you held the belief that the entire city square of this random small town didn’t need to know that! “What is wrong with you? Were dropped on your head as child and it led to permanent volume deafness? That’s the only reason I can think for why you are yelling my business right now. Oh my god.”

You find Max, browsing trinkets on a table one down from where you stood, A giant smirk on his face. He’d definitely heard your best friend and you feel your face flame averting your eyes quickly. “But is it? He looks exactly like the dude on the shirt you’re wearing.” She tries to whisper and if you weren’t praying for a hole to open and swallow you, you might’ve given her some credit.

“Oh my god, yes it is, please lets go before I unalive right here.” You quickly glance over again and this time MJF is looking directly at you. He’s still smirking but there is a gentle look of pride in his dark gaze. You very awkwardly wave when your eyes connect, and he takes the few steps in you and your best friends’ direction.

“Nice shirt,” He comments, his smirk transforming into an actual smile. He seems to recognise you are anxious and you find it strangely calming that he is trying to be nicer to you.

“Thanks, it’s my favorite.” You smile back self-deprecatingly. He grins, offering his hand and introducing himself. You tell him your name and your best friend introduces herself as well. He chats with the pair of you for a little while about the local area and how you ended up here. You tell him how you loved the nuance of his feud with CM Punk and after a little bit of teasing (you didn’t want to be a bother on his holiday) Max, and your best friend convince you to take a photo with him.

“You can’t post this until I go back,” He warns, his arm around your waist. You raise a brow at him once your best friend has handed you your phone back. “And when will that be again?”

He smirks, giving your arm a quick squeeze. “When they pay me what I’m worth.” “Well then,” You grin in return, stepping away. “I hope they pay you soon, you are sorely missed on my TV."

"Of course I am, you are madly in love with me after all." He winks.

"Oh my god."

Three weeks later you are watching All Out and you can’t help but laugh when a masked figure saunters onto the stage during the ladder match. Like he said, you were madly in love with him and you would recognize that ass anywhere.

You post the photo and the story behind the photo on twitter after the main-event and he retweets it instantly, calling you a ‘Mark’ with a single black heart emoji.

#maxwell jacob friedman #mjf #mjf imagine #mjf reader #mjf fanfic

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be-gay-do-heists · 3 years

Note

hardison/parker || masc day for parker, potentially while on date with hardison

i think it ended up a little more the dysphoria route with this one but i hope this at least touches on what u were looking for!! had a spark of an idea and had to write it :V

---

If it was just the dress, maybe Parker could stand it.

Hardison had won choosing date night this time around, and he had suggested a new restaurant that recently opened up on the other side of town. A nicer restaurant. Which meant fancier clothes and Hardison had said the dress code recommended dresses so. The dress. It had been fine, leaving the brewpub in it to go meet Hardison at the restaurant. It was comfy enough, the fabric had a nice texture, and it was the same kind of green that you could see if you looked sideways at a professionally cut emerald, which was one of their favorite colors.

It was only upon arriving at the restaurant that they realized they really, really, really did not want to be wearing it.

And if it was just the dress, maybe it would be fine. But they were out in public, and Parker had come to understand over the years that if people in public thought they had your gender clocked, you had to act, walk, and talk a certain way if you didn’t want weird stares, unwelcome attention. A performance that they didn’t particularly have the energy for if there wasn’t a con and the promise of a payout at the end of it. The first “miss” they got from the hostess made them twitch, but they made sure to keep their mask up as they saw Hardison, already at the table, who smiled sunnily as they approached and stood to help with their chair. He was wearing his purple suit, the deep plum colored one that reminded them of a bottle full of red wine.

“Wow. You look amazing, I can’t believe you’ve been hiding that dress for so long,” he said as they both sat down. “It’s not one of Sophie’s?” There was a trace of playfulness in his voice.

“No, it’s mine, I didn’t steal it,” Parker replied, latching onto his good mood for stability. They fidgeted, hyperaware of their bare shoulders and the cut of the dress around their torso. “Well, not from her anyways.”

Hardison snorted in that fond way of his. “Hey, it’s not stealing if it looks that good on you. That’s just proper re-appropriation. Anyways, you’re gonna love this place, the whole idea is normal fancy food, boring boring et cetera, but! They change the colors around so it messes with your senses and makes you experience it differently, you get me? I’m talking like green steaks, purple mashed potatoes. Cool, right?”

“Yeah, sounds great,” Parker agreed absently, discreetly hunching a little and hoping Hardison wouldn’t notice. They fiddled with the utensils on the table, which had little chameleons etched on them. That was fun. This was supposed to be fun, they reminded themselves.

“Hey, you ok?” Hardison asked, brows furrowed.

A waiter came up before he could say more. “Welcome, folks, pleasure to have you with us this evening. Can I start you with drinks?” After Hardison, concern still showing in his face ordered a fruity-sounding cocktail, the waiter turned to Parker. “And for the lady?”

They couldn’t help their flinch, knowing that Hardison saw it, and pulled out their most flawless grifting voice to respond. They deflated a little again once the waiter left.

“Shit. I shouldn’t have said dress. I should have specified that you could have worn anything you wanted, who even cares about restaurant dress codes,” the hacker said, rubbing his hands over his face. Parker had to give it to him, sometimes his brain worked faster than his computers, and he was always twice as perceptive. “Is it a they night? A he night?”

Parker shrugged a little apologetically. “I’m not sure. It’s just really, really not a she night.”

“I’m really sorry Parker, I should have checked in before we came,” Hardison sighed, and having him in the loop did actually make Parker feel a little better. “Do you wanna get out of here? I don’t want you to be uncomfortable for any longer than you have to.”

Parker immediately felt bad again. “No, you won date night, you were so excited about this place.”

“Man, don’t even sweat it,” Hardison reassured them, waving a hand. “We can come back some other time when we’re actually feeling it. Or if it’s never the date vibes, I can ask Sophie if she wants to try it sometime. You know she gets a kick out of dressing up and I’m sure she would call this place ‘an exercise in creative expression and reaction’ or something.” He smiled at Parker’s bark of laughter following his terrible impression of Sophie, which made a couple other patrons startle in their seats.

“I don’t really want to be in this dress anymore,” Parker admitted. “Maybe we could go back to the brewpub and do something there?”

“Hey, if I ever refuse a quiet night in, know that I’ve been replaced with a clone or maybe a mind-eating fungus,” Hardison beamed at them, and flagged down the waiter to pay for their drinks with a tip that made the man’s jaw drop, letting Parker lead the way out.

On the ride home, Hardison gave Parker his suit jacket, pretending he was too hot even though it was damp and cold out. It was far too big for the thief and they thought it was kind of ridiculous how it came down to almost their knees, but the broad shoulders on it made them feel good. And the wine color purple was fantastic, even though they thought it looked far better on Hardison. They said as much, and took a silent satisfaction in the way Hardison ducked his chin to hide his face.

Entering back into the safety of the brewpub and the upstairs apartment took a weight off Parker, and they sighed, kicking off their shoes and slipping off Hardison’s jacket to cast onto the back of the couch. Hardison picked up to carefully keep it from creasing with a “heaven help me” kind of look. “You got everything you wanna wear here? Need anything of mine?”

“Mostly, but…” Parker thought aloud. “Could I borrow one of your shirts? The soft ones?”

Hardison nodded fondly. “Sure thing, lemme grab one.” While he was in the bedroom, Parker stripped off their dress like it was burning them, shaking the feeling of it away once it was off. They spotted their good jeans on the chair by the hallway that Hardison liked to call “Parker’s wardrobe,” where all the clothes they had left while over lived, and rushed to put them on. They were comfy and boxy and had a button-up fly. More buttons felt good.

“Incoming,” Hardison’s voice called, and he entered with his eyes covered, tossing a shirt in their direction. Parker jumped to catch it, and quietly approved of his selection, a wooly flannel type. They wiggled it on, tucking it in slightly, and exhaled in relief on how delightfully big it was, draping off the prominent muscles in their shoulders, leaving enough room on their torso so that the fabric wouldn’t cling to them. They rolled up the sleeves to expose their strong forearms, looked down at their broad hands. Yeah, this was much better, they thought, tying up their hair high.

“I’ve still got those canvases from last time, and the same paints, if you wanna do that. Ooh, I just got some good charcoal too if you’d rather sketch,” Hardison was saying, sifting through his art supplies. Parker bounded over and pressed up against his side. He jumped slightly but turned to look at them. “Feeling better?”

“Lots,” Parker hummed.

The hacker took in their outfit change. “And looking damn handsome too. Real suave, James Dean kinda look.” When Parker wryly grinned and crossed their arms, squaring their shoulders and standing tall, he mimed a swoon (Parker could see the slight, genuine flush that rose to his face). “So what do you wanna do tonight?”

“Dunno, it’s still your date night,” Parker replied, putting a little more husk in their voice and enjoying the way they could see Hardison’s thoughts stutter slightly.

He recovered quickly. “Well, all I want is a nice night in with my fella, whatever we do is gonna be more than alright with me.”

Parker felt another glow of joy at the endearment, and moved to wrap their arms tightly around him, one hand coming up to grip the back of the hacker’s neck. “Thanks Hardison. I really mean it.”

Hardison softened a little against their firm embrace. “Of course, I never want you to be uncomfortable. I love you.”

“I know,” Parker responded, and smiled mischievously into Hardison’s shoulder as he sputtered.

“Oh no you did not—“

#i will die before i stop loving characters talking w and affirming each other #thank u so much for all ur prompts!!! i def hope to get to a couple more of them when i next get some writing energy #i really hope this is somewhat what u were looking for #leverage #miko speaks #my fic #parker x hardison #gender dysphoria #ask #havent had the bad gender feelings in a while so hope this works

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helliontherapscallion · 4 years

Text

(Y/n) and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Week: Wednesday

Monday Tuesday Thursday (Part 1) Thursday (Part 2) Friday Saturday Sunday

Spotify Playlist (collaborative)

Warnings: panic attacks, swearing, getting outed, f slur and d slur, homophobia, puking, toxic friends

Word count: 5,160

(A/N): woah, thank you all so much for all the positive feedback, that really makes my day!

The room was quiet with the exception of the clacking of the keyboard and the soft chirping of crickets outside your open window. The stars twinkled in the sky as the night droned on and on. There was a loud rustling outside your window, but your sleep deprived mind didn’t think anything of it. It wasn’t important at the moment, the only important thing right now was finishing your work.

Throughout the night, you worked endlessly on your friend’s work. The essays were relatively easy because Adrian and Annie had luckily chosen topics that you’re somewhat interested in, so at least finding the sources was enjoyable. You had gotten your essay completely written and proofread, Annie’s outline finished, and Adrian’s sources analyzed. You would start on Sammy’s presentation after you finished Adrian’s outline. Hours upon hours passed by you as you worked, yet you didn’t notice the time once. You worked uninterrupted with no breaks. Well, one break to talk to your dad about how you weren’t hungry, but you got back to work right after he left your room. You couldn’t waste any more time than you already have.

Your eyes felt heavy as you typed on your keyboard, working on putting Adrian’s sources together cohesively so that the writing would flow seamlessly. You paused your typing to rub at your tired eyes so you could keep working, you couldn’t afford to fall asleep. You had to get these done as soon as possible if you wanted their forgiveness.

The blaring of your alarm startled you out of your focus, making you fall backwards out of your chair with a yelp. Landing painfully on your back, you laid on the floor trying to calm your racing heartbeat. You looked out your window. Hints of pinks and yellows were starting to make a gradient with the lightening dawn sky. Shit, you were so focused on getting your work done that you didn’t take account of the time. You just knew today was gonna be long. At least after school volleyball practice was shortened because of finals tomorrow.

You groaned as you pulled your tired form off from the ground. You made your way downstairs and plopped yourself down at your usual place at the table, burying your face into the crook of your arm. You felt yourself drift off into a blissful sleep, the wood of the table suddenly seemed very comfortable at the moment. Not long after, you were jolted out of your peaceful sleep by a loud crash. Jumping up and looking around with wide eyes, you saw Tubbo looking at you apologetically. There was broken glass in front of his feet on the floor.

“Sorry, (y/n).”

You just stared at him blankly as you slowly blinked. Philza didn’t spare you a glance as he whisked the short boy away from the glass. “(Y/n), can you please go get the broom and sweep this up?”

You nodded, hauling yourself to your feet and walked over to the storage closet, pulling out the broom and dust pan. You mindlessly sweeped up the glass, your limbs feeling heavy. After throwing the glass away, you rummaged in the cupboard and pulled out a mug. The bitter smell beckoned you welcomingly, working its way through your nostrils and digging itself deep into your brain. Just as you were about to pour yourself a cup, a hand snatched the coffee pot away from you.

“You shouldn’t be drinking this.”

“You let Techno and Wil drink it, so why can’t I?”

“(Y/n), you’re a full year younger than them and you haven’t eaten anything since breakfast yesterday.”

You felt your eye twitch, “I’m only a year younger than them! There’s literally no-”

“(Y/n),” his warning tone cut you off, putting the pot back into the coffee maker, “you aren’t going to drink this. That’s final. Get a glass of water.”

You huffed and pushed past him to the sink to fill your coffee mug with water. You’ve been drinking coffee for a while behind his back, so you were used to its effects on your body. You supposed that you’d just beg Wilbur to take you to the cafe so you could get your sustenance. He always relented for you.

You heard him chuckle, “you’ll thank me when you’re older.”

“Mhm.”

You plopped down next to Tubbo nursing your mug of water, trying to make small talk with him. One by one, your brothers made their way to the table. Tommy was talking and gesturing wildly to Tubbo like he normally did, Wilbur looked as dead inside as you felt, and Techno made it a point to ignore you. When someone pissed him off, he can hold a grudge better than he could hold onto his knowledge of Greek mythology, and that’s saying something. Man is obsessed with Greek mythology.

Breakfast went by in a daze with you struggling to keep your eyes open. At one point, you almost fell asleep sitting up, only to be woken up by Tubbo shaking your shoulder to get your attention. When breakfast was almost done, you had only eaten about half your breakfast.

Drifting off again, you were startled awake by the screeching of the chairs against the wooden floor and loud shouts coming from your brothers. You didn’t have the energy to race them to the bathroom like you usually did, you’d just freshen up after they were done. You tried to stand up to go to your room to get dressed, but you were stopped by a hand on your shoulder forcing you to sit back down. Looking up, you were met with the concerned, yet stern eyes of your father.

“You’re not leaving this table until you’ve eaten at least a few more bites and tell me why you’re so tired.”

“I just stayed up later than I normally do finishing up some homework, it won’t happen again.”

“It better not or else I will make you stay home next time. When’d you go to bed last night?”

You avoided his eyes, “around one thirty or two.” You couldn’t tell him that you didn’t actually go to sleep last night, he’d flip.

“You know, you’re a terrible liar.” Shit.

Looking him in the eye, you spoke more confidently. “Three in the morning.”

“(Y/n)-”

You felt a sudden rage start to twist inside you as he started to lecture you about taking better care of yourself. He was treating you like a child and you were not having it.

“-young kids like you need to- are you even listening?”

You set your jaw and willed yourself not to explode at him. “Dad, I’m not a child. I know how to take care of myself.”

You saw him narrow his eyes and purse his lips in frustration, “well, obviously you don’t if you’re not eating or sleeping well,” his eyes softened. “I’m starting to worry about you.”

“Well, you shouldn’t because I’m fine,” you snapped at him. “I’m going to get ready.”

You stalked out of the room and stomped upstairs. Passing a shocked Tommy and Tubbo, you made your way into the bathroom to get ready. The person that stared back at you in the mirror looked pale and had dark eye bags accentuating her tired eyes. She had red pimples dotting her face more than she usually did. She was ugly, revolting. The girl you remembered her being was confident in her appearance and walked with an air of importance. Now, she was a decrepit thing that was run down and scared of her own shadow. You couldn’t recognize the girl that stared back at you anymore. You should’ve been able to; after all, she was you and you were her.

You rushed through your morning routine in the bathroom avoiding looking at yourself in the mirror. You opened the bathroom door only to be met with Wilbur’s chest, his hand poised in the air in a closed fist ready to knock on the door. He stepped back.

“We’re gonna be late if you don’t hurry up.”

You glanced at the clock on the wall. “Wil, we still have twenty minutes before school starts. We don’t have to leave for another ten minutes.”

He gave you a smirk, “well, you want coffee, don’t you? You look dead.”

“Oh thank god. I feel dead, I didn’t sleep at all last night.”

“When’d you go to bed?”

“I didn’t.”

“Christ, (y/n) I knew you were a dumbass, but not that much of a dumbass.”

You rolled your eyes, walking around him and into your room. You felt a stab of hurt in your heart. “Fuck you.”

Before you could close the door, he shouted out a cheeky “love ya too (y/n)!”

You took off all your clothes slowly and stood in front of your open closet deciding on what you should wear today. You figured that since you felt like absolute shit, you should probably put a little bit more effort into your appearance. Picking out your favorite flannel shirt and favorite pair of pants. Smiling at yourself in the mirror in your room, you felt slightly more confident in your appearance. You felt like you could walk around the hallways at school without as many peering eyes trying to figure out your every secret. But maybe that was just the sleep deprivation talking. You tend to be more impulsive and emotional when you’re sleep deprived.

You slung the backpack onto your back with less difficulty than in the previous days. Your back was healing faster than you thought it would. Now, it barely hurt and the swelling completely went away.

You went downstairs and slunk past the kitchen where Philza was talking to Tommy and Tubbo. You didn’t want them to notice you, you felt somewhat guilty for snapping at your dad. You slipped through the front door and hopped into the passenger seat next to Wilbur. You three usually rotated seats counterclockwise and took turns driving each day. Now, you were just waiting for Techno.

“Well, you look less homeless today.”

“Thanks Wilbur, I just felt like looking a little nicer than usual.”

“Who’re ya dressing up for? Is it Adrian?” He asked with slight disgust. He hated Adrian almost as much as he hated Annie and Sammy. He thought he was nothing more than a fuckboy looking to get into your pants. Little did he know you were secretly a raging lesbian so deep in the closet that you’re froliking with Aslan through the flowerfields of Narnia.

“Wilbur, I’m gay why would I-” you froze, cursing your sleep deprived self for lacking a filter. Your breath caught in your throat and you felt anxiety start to seep into your veins and pump around your body, filling every single nook and cranny with dread. You could feel tears welling in your eyes as you stared at your shaking hands horrified at yourself. How could you just… just out yourself like that? How could you be so careless? So stupid?

You barely felt it when Wilbur reached over to press a gentle hand on your arm. “(Y/n), are yo-”

“I-tha-that was a joke, I’m not gay, I’m straight.” Your words came out in frantic jumbles, desperately trying to fix your slip up. Oh god, you really fucked up this time.

“(Y/n), brea-”

“I swear I’m not gay, I like men, I do. I-”

“(Y/n), breathe with me.” Wilbur’s firm, yet gentle voice demanded. He placed your hand on his chest and took in a deep breath, held it, and released it slowly. You tried your best to follow him, but after about ten minutes, you were slowly but surely calming down. It was a lot faster calming down from a panic attack when you had someone helping you breathe. You’ve never gotten help with a panic attack before, it was nice. Becoming more aware of your surroundings, you took notice of the soft fabric of Wilbur’s sweater, the gentle thumping of his heart, and his worried expression. You also became aware of the extra hand rubbing small circles into your shoulder from behind your seat. It was Techno.

Taking in a shaky breath, you took your hand out of Wilbur’s grip and clasped your hands tightly in front of you, shrugging Techno’s hand off from your shoulder.

“...Can we please leave? I don’t want Dad or Tubbo and Tommy seeing me like this.”

Wordlessly, Wilbur started up the car and pulled out of the driveway. At the intersection, he turned in the opposite direction of the school. “Wilbur, where are we going? The school’s the other way.”

“We’re going to the cafe for some coffee, my treat.”

“But school starts in five minutes, we’re gonna be late if we go to the cafe.”

“Actually,” Techno’s deep voice chimed in, “school started ten minutes ago. If we’re already late, there’s no harm in skipping first block.”

“Tech, I literally have no idea what’s going on in stats.”

“I’ll give you my notes.”

“Are you sure? I wouldn’t want to bother you.”

Wilbur pulled into the cafe’s parking lot, “don’t be stupid, (y/n). You can never bother us.”

You didn’t say anything as you left the car and headed into the cafe. You could think of plenty of ways you could bother your older brothers. You bothered everybody just by being in their presence. You just had that effect.

Your brothers followed you into the cafe, glancing at each other worriedly. You three quickly got your orders and sat in the secluded back of the cafe. Soft jazz music drifted throughout the quiet cafe.

“(Y/n), we need to talk about what happened. Was this your first panic attack?” Wilbur asked you gently.

“...No, I’ve had them before.”

“Were they always this intense? You’re still shaking.”

“That one was nowhere near as intense as the ones I usually have.’

“Usually? Do you have them often?” Tecno asked.

“Yeah, usually a couple of them a week since the middle of freshman year. Nothing I can’t manage.”

“So you’ve been doing this on your own for three years? You could’ve gotten us to help you.”

You sighed, looking down at your steaming cup. “...I couldn’t’ve. Don’t get me wrong, I know you guys could help me, but I-I just couldn’t. No one was supposed to find out.”

“Promise us that you’ll come to one of us when you have an attack. We care about you, (y/n).”

“I… I’ll think about it. Thank you.”

The table fell into a comfortable silence as you all sipped at your drinks, the comforting taste of the bitter coffee dancing across your tongue.

“Ya know, we don’t care that you’re gay. A lesbian called me ‘actually pretty funny’ once and I’m still riding the high.”

“Yeah, you’re still you. Nothing changes the fact that you’re our little sister.”

You smiled as you felt warm inside. You knew your brothers loved you, but you didn’t know that they loved you for being you. You didn’t think anybody loved you unconditionally like that, and that made you feel genuinely happy.

“Thank you guys, for everything. I-I can’t put into words how much that means to me, I love you guys so much!”

“We love you too,” Wilbur smiled before he dropped it into a stern frown. “But if any girl hurts you, we’ll have a stern talking to her.”

“Yeah, we can’t beat up girls. We’ll put her in her place alright.” You snorted into your coffee, almost spilling it on yourself. Quickly setting it down before you could baptize yourself with the scalding liquid (though, you did consider coffee to be holy), you wiped at your teary eyes.

“And that’s why I love you guys.”

“We’re serious, she’ll be wishing she got beat up after we’re done scolding her.” Wilbur said seriously before he broke into a grin and started laughing.

The conversation carried on about your sexuality, how you found out, when you found out, if you’ve told anyone yet (they were honored that they were the first people you’ve told, even if you did it accidentally mid-panic attack). Eventually you had to go back to the school before your second block started. You three split ways to your separate classrooms.

Annie and Adrian were locked onto you as soon as you walked through the door. They looked angry at you. What’d you do this time to piss them off?

“Where the fuck were you this morning? We were looking everywhere for you,” Annie seethed.

“Yeah, you wasted so much of our time looking for your sorry ass. You ditch us again?”

Oh, that. “Look, I didn’t mean to skip out on you guys again. It was a rough morning.”

“That’s funny because we also had rough mornings, yet we still hung out with each other. You aren’t special.” Adrian rolled his eyes at you.

“It’s gonna take more to apologize. We don’t let things like the little stunts you pull go off scott free.”

“Oh, Annie I have the best idea,” Adrian squealed, bouncing on the balls of his feet excitedly.

“What is it Dri?” Annie’s eyes shone.

“Our little (y/n) can set you up with one of her brothers and she can go on a date with me on a double date! It’s foolproof, not even someone as dumb as (y/n) could fuck it up.”

“I don’t think that’s a good id-”

“It’s perfect Dri! Can it be with Wilbur? He’s literally so hot! Oh, the way his fingers can work that guitar…” Ew. The thought of Wilbur and Annie together made you scrunch up your nose with disgust.

“I’m sorry, but Wilbur’s actually dating Sally Fishmin right now. They’re actually really cute together-”

“God, how could someone as hot as Wilbur go for Sally Fishmin? She’s disgusting, always smells like fish,” Annie gagged, then gasped. “Wait (y/n) do you actually think that she’s more deserving to be with him than I am?”

“No, I nev-”

“Really? Cuz you just did. Glad to see you care about me, (y/n).”

“Annie, you’re literally so beautiful. I never said that you don’t deserve him. You deserve the world. I can’t split them up, but I can do more homework for you.” She perked up immediately, “awe, thanks love! That’s what happens when you actually put effort into how you look.”

“Speaking of, did you get that shirt out of the trash? It’s really not a look.” Adrian snickered to himself. There goes what little confidence you had. You actually thought you looked decent today. You felt grateful for your friends, they always told you the truth about how you looked when everybody else lied to you.

Before you could respond, the bell rang and everybody took their seats. Luckily, Mr. Todd assigned today as a work day for your final research essays. You had finished Annie’s and got Adrian’s thesis done before the bell rang. While you were working on their essays, they were mindlessly scrolling on their phones and texting someone.

You, Adrian, and Annie met up with Sammy and went into the lunch room. You tried to line up in the lunch line with them, but they laughed and told you that you’re fat enough and you needed to lose weight. What did you do to deserve such considerate friends? You really owed them one for always looking out for and putting up with you.

While you were waiting for them, you pulled out your phone. To your surprise, Haley texted you a screenshot of her conversation with Unknown. You felt a chill run down your spine. All four pictures were of you. You rubbing your eyes as the light of your computer provided the only light in the room. Your bare back facing the camera as you stood in front of your closet this morning. You sleeping a day ago (you felt sick as you realized that whoever took the picture was standing directly over your bed). Lastly, you and Haley holding each other’s hand under the moonlight last night. Attached to the pictures, Unknown had typed “you have one more day or else sleeping ugly gets it. Do not tempt us.”

Hales : )

(Y/n), how the hell did they get these pictures of you

Did you seriously leave your window open???

Why wouldn’t you close your curtains

Oh god, do you think they saw us in your driveway????

(Y/n)

Haley calm down

Hales : )

I know you’re not telling me to calm down right now

You have a stalker

One that can GET INSIDE YOUR ROOM

(Y/n)

We’ll get to the bottom of this

Like I said, I don’t care if my pictures get leaked

I care about your pictures

Until we figure out who’s doing this, we need to lay low

Hales : )

Hanging out last night was a mistake

I shouldn’t have gave you a ride

I shouldn’t have tried to kiss you

I’m straight

And you are too

You said it yourself

We can’t talk anymore (y/n)

(Y/n)

I’m not straight Hales

I’m gay

And I like you

Like you like you

Hales : )

I’m sorry (y/n)

But I’m straight

We can’t talk anymore

Goodbye.

With each text she sent you, you felt your heart drop deeper and deeper into your stomach until you felt your heart shatter in your chest, the pieces lodging themselves deep within you and ripping you open from inside out. How could you be so stupid to think that soemone as perfect as Haley Andrews, arguably the prettiest girl in the senior year, go out with (y/n) Minecraft, a known trainwreck. Annie’s shrill gasp sounded right next to your ear, making you gasp and drop your phone onto the table with a loud bang.

“OH MY GOD (Y/N) YOU’RE A FAGGOT? WERE YOU HITTING ON ME EARLIER? YOU FUCKING PERVERT.”

The entire cafeteria fell into silence as they listened to Annie’s shrieking. Whispers started to meld together.

“(Y/n)’s gay?”

“How gross”

“Damn, I was gonna hit it”

“We have a dyke going to this school?”

You felt like you were suffocating as the whispers and Annie’s yelling jumbled together in a disorienting cacophony. Adrian and Sammy both glared at you from behind Annie with a hatred that you didn’t know they had for you. You tried stuttering an apology, but you were quickly shut up by Annie harshly slapping you across the face.

“I don’t wanna hear it, fag. You’re going to finish our essays and you’re never gonna talk to us again. Do you understand me?” When you didn’t respond, she slapped you again. “I asked you, do you understand me?”

You frantically nodded your head, grabbed your backpack, and sprinted out the door without any real destination in mind. You sprinted before you found the bathroom that nobody used. Ducking into a stall and slamming the door, you felt yourself start to hyperventilate. You couldn’t feel anything except for the tightness of your chest. You couldn’t see anything. You couldn’t hear anything. You faintly tasted bile rising up in your throat as you bent over to empty your stomach. You threw up everything in your stomach until you were left sitting on the dirty floor painfully dry heaving.

You sobbed on that floor for what felt like hours. Everybody knows your secret now. Your dirty, dirty secret. God, you were a pervert weren’t you? You made people around you comfortable by just being you. Faintly, you felt your phone start to buzz in your pocket, your shaky hands scrambling to fish it out. They were all texts from your brothers.

Wilby

(Y/n) I heard what happened

Are you okay????

Please answer me

Where are you

Technology Sword

I’m gonna kill them

I swear to god they’re dead

Blood for the blood god

(Y/n)

Pls dont do anything or hurt anyone

I’m fine

I’ll see you two after practice

Wilby

Tell us where you are

(Y/n)

I’m fine

I’ll see you two after practice

You silenced your phone and put it back into your pocket, once again feeling yourself start to dry heave again. Your sobs and gags echoed throughout the bathroom. This is by far the worst panic attack you’ve had yet, and it doesn’t seem like it’s gonna stop anytime soon. You heard the final bell ring and students start to rush to their lockers to get home, so you tried to muffle your shaking sobs the best you could. You had at least an hour before you had to go to volleyball practice. Until then, you would stay in the bathroom trying to ground yourself.

Luckily, you managed to calm down to the point where you stopped crying and dry heaving. You were only shaking slightly. You felt numb and completely drained from your panic attack, practice today was going to be a struggle. You cautiously walked through the empty hallways jumping at every little noise. When you finally reached the locker room, you made a beeline past Zara and Jazzy to your locker. You pulled out your uniform and changed in one of the bathroom stalls.

Practice went by with the girls on the team giving you sympathetic looks and Haley ignoring you. Not that you noticed, you were ignoring everyone and putting all of your focus on the ball. The entire practice, you felt light headed and drained. Fortunately, practice ended right as you felt like you were going to pass out.

You changed as fast as you could and pulled out your phone.

Dadza

Come outside, I’m here to pick you up

You felt a dread pool in your stomach as you stared at the text. Did he find out? Was he going to kick you out for being gay? Wilbur and Techno wouldn’t let him do that to you, right? Reluctantly, you left the sanctuary of the bathroom stall and rushed out of the locker room and out of the school. Sure enough, your dad’s car was parked in the parking lot. You glanced over to where Haley’s car was parked last night and saw glimpses of you and her chasing each other and laughing into the night sky without a care in the world before you ripped your gaze away to stare at your walking feet.

You reached your dad’s car and sat in the passenger seat. Your dad grinned at you. “Hey hun, how was practice?”

You merely shrugged your shoulders at him. You didn’t have the energy to talk to anyone at the moment. You felt extremely drained.

“What’s wrong, did something happen? You can talk to me.”

“...I’m just sad that the season’s over tomorrow.”

“Don’t be sad kid,” a gruff voice coming from behind you made you jump. “That’s pussy shit.”

You yelped and whipped your head around to look at whoever said that. Your uncle’s cocky grin greeted you. You felt yourself grin back at him.

“Uncle Schlatt!”

“The one and only.”

“How was your business trip? You’re home early.”

He rolled his eyes, “boring as hell. I’m so fucking glad I got out early, I woulda blew my brains out if I had to stay there any longer.”

“Schlatt!” Philza reprimanded him, glancing at him through the rearview mirror.

“What? I’m just telling the truth. I woulda!” He defended himself.

Your dad gripped the steering wheel. “You didn’t have to say it in front of (y/n).”

Schlatt scoffed, “please, she’s heard me say worse.”

As they bickered, you felt yourself zone out as you looked out the window. Houses and street signs passed by in a blur as the car moved down the road and pulled into your driveway. You got out as quickly as you could and made your way into the house alongside your uncle and dad. As soon as your uncle walked through the door, Tubbo barrelled into him and pulled him into a tight hug. Schlatt laughed loudly and bent over to pick him up into a hug. You smiled at the father and son as Philza gestured for you to follow him into the kitchen. He opened the oven to check on something cooking inside of it and turned to face you, leaning against the counter.

“So what’s really wrong?”

“I already told you, I’m sad the season’s almost over.”

“It’s something more than that,” as you opened your mouth he quickly added, “and you can’t say that it’s because you’re tired. I wasn’t born yesterday.”

You sighed and mimicked his actions. “...It’s just been a long day. I really don’t wanna talk about it.”

Without warning, he pulled you into a warm hug, your face being shoved into his shoulder and him rubbing circles into your back. “That’s okay, just talk to me when you’re ready. I won’t push you.”

That broke you. Throwing your arms around him, you started to sob into his shoulder. He started to rock you back and forth whispering reassurances into your ear.

“That’s good, let it all out.”

“I love you so much.”

“I’m here for you.”

With each sentence to fall out of his mouth, you felt more at ease and safe. Your dad always did a great job at making people feel safe, that was just his natural talent. After a while, you pulled away from him.

“Do you feel better?”

You smiled tiredly at him, “Yeah, I really needed a hug.”

He turned around to check on dinner, “I bet, you look like you’ve been to hell and back. You don’t have to tell me what happened, but just know that I’m always here for you and I love you.”

The rest of the family flooded the kitchen after a while of you two talking. Dinner went by with Schlatt laughing loudly and telling stories about the people he met on his business trip. Every now and then, Wilbur and Techno would glance at you, but you ignored them. You just wanted dinner to end so you could pass out in your bed. Once dinner was over, you helped your dad gather everybody’s plate and put them into the sink. The rest of your little family went to the living room to start a game of Monopoly. The last time you all played that ended in fresh bruises and shed tears.

“I think I’m gonna go to bed, I have to get some rest for finals tomorrow.”

“But (y/n), it’s Monopoly! You love Monopoly,” Tommy exclaimed.

“That’s alright, you look dead on your feet kid. Go get some sleep.”

“Thanks Uncle Schlatt. Goodnight everyone, love ya.”

A flurry of goodnights and love you’s follow you as you leave the room and drug yourself up the stairs. Without a second thought, you closed your curtains and plopped face first onto your bed. You passed out without even making sure you were fully on your bed.

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bluejayblueskies · 3 years

Note

For the Touches Ask Game, if you can, a little Jonmartin with Touching/9?

Thank you so much, I love your writing!!! 😭💕

touches prompt list

9 - holding hands across the table

i did a season two lunch dinner date fic! cw for mentions of paranoia/stalking and murder (in typical s2 fashion)

They’ve been having lunch together for two months when Martin asks, with enough stuttering that it takes Jon a moment to process his words, if Jon would like to get dinner with him.

Jon hesitates only briefly before agreeing. Between finding out about Martin’s CV and the newly delivered CCTV footage, he’s almost entirely convinced that Martin did not, in fact, murder Gertrude Robinson and that his various attempts to make sure Jon eats and sleeps and drinks tea are simply a result of Martin being… well. Being nice, he supposes. If overbearingly so.

Why Martin feels the need to coddle Jon, he doesn’t quite know. But if he’s being honest with himself, he’s… not complaining. His frequent skipping of meals often isn’t an intentional thing, born instead of his tendency to get so wrapped up in his work that hours fly by without him noticing, and while sometimes he’s irritated when his flow is interrupted by Martin’s cheery greeting, more often than not it’s… a relief. To step out of the Archives, away from the feeling of eyes on the back of his neck, and pretend like he isn’t working alongside a murderer.

Maybe a murderer. He… he doesn’t know. According to the CCTV footage, Tim and Sasha and Martin and Elias all have alibis. But he still can’t shake the feeling that he gets, sitting in his office or walking down the corridors or reading through statements, that something isn’t right.

That there’s something in the Archives that’s not supposed to be there.

So, it’s… nice to get outside. And as much as Tim may joke about it—or… used to joke about it, at least—Jon does, in fact, try to eat three square meals a day if he can remember to do so. Try being the operative word. He’s been… caught up in work lately, and often he glances at the clock to see that it’s well past ten and he’s accidentally skipped dinner entirely. He hadn’t thought Martin had noticed, given that the man doesn’t live in the Archives anymore and typically leaves promptly at five along with Tim and Sasha, but evidently, he was wrong.

As Jon sits across the table from Martin at the small café they’ve chosen for lunch, he has the fleeting thought that Martin’s been sneaking back and watching him work and that’s how he knows that Jon has been missing dinner. He lets himself feel it, takes a deep breath, and pushes it away with considerable effort. No, that’s not… he trusts Martin. He does. Or he… he wants to. He’s trying.

“Jon?”

“Hm?” Jon blinks up at Martin, who’s clearly waiting for a response. “Sorry, I-I didn’t catch that.”

Martin’s cheeks are dusted a rosy red. He fiddles nervously with the black ring on his finger—a bit thicker in width than Jon’s, the metal smooth and bright where it reflects the sunlight. “Is—is this Friday okay? At—at seven? I-I can, um, meet you at the Institute. U-Unless you’d like to meet there! That’s, er. That’s fine with me too.”

“The Institute is fine,” Jon says, picking at his sandwich with a frown. The bread is damp and squishes under his fingers. “Perhaps we can go somewhere a bit less… soggy.”

“R-Right, yeah. I, um. I was actually thinking… you know that new bistro o-over in Clapham? M-Maybe not, it’s, er. It’s new. But I-I heard it has good South Asian food, which, um. I know you like.”

Martin’s face is fully crimson by this point. Maybe we should sit inside next time, Jon thinks. Or at least in the shade. The sun is rather intense. Martin picks up his mug of tea and takes a long sip, staring resolutely down at the table once he’s done. Jon waits, but it appears that Martin is done rambling, so he says, “Yes, that sounds fine.” Then, because it’s polite (and not untrue): “I am… looking forward to it.”

“O-Oh? Oh!” Martin looks at him, a wide smile spreading across his face. “Y-Yeah, um. M-Me too.”

We should definitely sit inside next time, Jon thinks as the back of his neck grows warm, the tips of his ears surely darkening. Good lord.

He doesn’t think the heat is responsible for the way Martin’s smile makes something in his stomach flutter. He decides to blame that on the atrocious sandwich because… well. It’s as convenient an excuse as any.

Because Martin is just looking out for Jon’s wellbeing. This is no different than him bringing mugs of tea when Jon is recording statements or accompanying him to A&E to get stitches after Michael or inviting him to lunch in the first place. This is not, he tells his ridiculous, over-zealous, butterfly-filled stomach, a date.

Because it’s not. Martin is simply a coworker—an employee—and a friend. Who he trusts. Maybe. Probably. And thinks about sometimes when he’s unoccupied. His hands, mostly, which look very soft and very capable. His smiles as well, each one like a gift meant just for Jon. The way he carries the heavier boxes that Jon can’t quite manage and can reach the top shelves to retrieve statements without even having to clamber up onto the bottom ones.

All completely normal thoughts to be having about a friend

So, when Jon wears the soft maroon button-down on Friday that he’s been told brings out his eyes and takes care to arrange his hair into something other than the haphazard braid he’s been managing lately and digs a bottle of peach nail varnish out of the bottom of his drawer the night before to coat his fingernails with, it’s just because he feels like it. Not because this is a date. Because it’s not a date. It’s just dinner. With Martin.

Who shows up to the Institute at quarter to seven wearing a nicer jumper than usual—cable-knit and mustard yellow, looking incredibly soft to the touch—and with small black studs decorating the lobes of his ears. He smiles widely when he sees Jon, also standing outside earlier than agreed upon, and Jon almost turns around to see if someone’s behind him. But there isn’t. That smile, unfettered and full of joy—it’s… it’s for him.

Surely, Martin is just… happy to see him leaving the office while it’s still light out for once. He’s certainly chided Jon enough times for his habit of falling asleep at his desk. (Which he’s been trying to do less lately, if only because it would be easy for someone to sneak up on him while he’s unconscious and slip a knife into his back or poison his tea or shoot him three times in the chest or—)

“R-Ready to head out?” Martin says, abruptly halting Jon’s train of thought. He tries not to look like he’d just been theorizing about his own inevitable demise as he mumbles his assent and follows Martin away from the Institute and into the still-bustling streets of London.

And if he presses close to Martin’s side while they walk, well. It’s just because every brush of unfamiliar contact against him feels overwhelming, enough so to make him flinch away. And if he takes Martin’s hand for a small period of time, well. It’s just because the crowd has thickened and he doesn’t want them to get separated. And if he feels particularly warm in his jacket when Martin laughs awkwardly at his own joke and rubs at the back of his neck, well. That’s just from exertion. It is quite a far walk to the restaurant.

The bistro is lovely. Jon typically doesn’t go for places like this—tucked between two nondescript buildings with a glass front that reveals soft, intimate lighting within and flowers planted in boxes outside—but once they’re inside and seated at their table, it’s… oddly charming. Jon shrugs out of his jacket, and even though it’s the same shirt he’s been wearing all day, Martin compliments him on it with a flush. The change from frigid winter air to the warmth of the bistro brings heat to Jon’s face as well, and he rolls up the cuffs of his sleeves to just below his elbows. Martin makes a choking sound, but when Jon looks up with a frown, he has his glass of water pressed to his lips.

“Sorry,” Martin says once he’s placed the glass back on the table. “Just, um. Uh. Tickle in my throat. A-Allergies, you know.”

Martin’s face pinches in what looks like a repressed wince, and Jon tries to be reassuring. After all, Martin is taking time out of his schedule to be here with Jon, and Jon doesn’t want to seem ungrateful. His grandmother taught him proper manners, and besides, he is… rather glad to be here.

His commiseration about his own experiences with seasonal allergies turns into a mini-lecture on the species of pollen-producing plants in their area. He only realizes he’s doing it when the waiter comes by with a cheery smile and asks if they’re ready to order.

Jon’s mouth snaps shut mid-sentence. He has not even opened his menu.

“I. Um.” Jon is about to ask for more time—which he strongly dislikes doing, as he’s had the waiting staff forget more than once about his table and he’s had to go through the mortifying ordeal of hailing them down like a-a bloody taxi—when Martin tilts his own menu toward Jon and points to an item in the middle of the page.

“They have chicken karahi and naan. I, er. I heard it’s good if you’re… interested.”

Jon blinks at the menu in surprise. “That… sounds great, actually. Er, medium spice, please.”

Martin orders his own squash curry, and the waiter takes their menus when he departs, leaving the spot in front of Jon oddly empty. Jon taps his fingers on the newly barren tabletop a few times, trying and failing to remember where he’d left off in his lecture. Ultimately, he gives up, deciding that Martin isn’t going to be interested in hearing about all of that and he’s already said enough on the subject.

Then, Martin says, “So, you were saying—about the pollen?” and something in Jon’s chest squeezes, an emotion he doesn’t know the name of. Relief, maybe, as Martin’s words manage to spark his memory and he picks up his train of thought again easily enough. Yes, that’s… that’s probably it.

The first few times they’d gone to lunch, Jon had made an effort to stop himself from rambling, as he was prone to do any time someone gave him the opportunity. He’d engrossed himself in his sandwiches and rice bowls and mediocre Chinese takeaway in order to keep from launching into an explanation of the origins of said folding takeaway containers or the documentary he’d watched recently about the Zhou dynasty. And the first few lunches had been… awkward. It wasn’t because Jon thought Martin was a murderer—he doesn’t think he’d have agreed to go for lunch if he truly believed that Martin might harm him. It was just… how things like this went when Jon was involved. He knows he struggles with casual conversation, and he’s never understood the purpose or execution of ‘small talk.’ He would be perfectly content to eat and exist in silence, except all too often he feels expected to provide some sort of conversation or entertainment, upon which point the silence becomes horribly oppressive and stress-inducing.

But he also knows that talking too much can be just as bad as not talking enough. His grandmother had always told him so. So he suffered through the awkward silences for the first few days, and Martin had let him, clearly assuming that if Jon wasn’t speaking, he shouldn’t either.

Then, around their fourth or fifth lunch together, Martin had begun to ask him questions. They were casual, genuine, and so clearly targeted at Jon’s interests that Jon was convinced that Martin was somehow following him home or searching through his computer history or—or something. On their eighth lunch together, Martin asked Jon about the newest exhibit at the museum—it had been about sharks, if Jon remembers correctly—and Jon couldn’t help asking how Martin knew that he’d gone to see it. He hadn’t explicitly asked if Martin had been following him, but he’s sure the sentiment was clear in his eyes.

The tips of Martin’s cheeks had grown red, and he’d said that Jon had mentioned a few days prior that he was planning on going. All traces of fear and paranoia had left Jon’s mind then, replaced by surprise and, beneath it, something warm and bubbly. Martin had remembered.

Their conversations had gotten a lot easier after that.

Despite how Martin seems to enjoy Jon’s long-winded tangents, he… does still make an effort not to hold a completely one-sided conversation. So, a few minutes into the continuation of his pollen discussion, he finds a natural stopping point and says, “So, er. You… like being outside?”

Not the most… articulated question Jon has ever asked. But Martin doesn’t seem to mind. His fingers curl around the bottom of his water glass, his palms smudging the condensation. “Yeah, w-when I can find the time, I suppose. I-I try to go for walks around my neighborhood if I can, if it’s not too dark by the time I get home, and there’s this park in—”

Martin cuts off with a small cough. He lifts his glass and takes a long sip, while Jon sits and drums his fingers against the table and tries not to bounce his leg too noticeably. “Sorry,” Martin says as soon as the glass leaves his lips, giving Jon an apologetic smile that somehow seems… artificial. Like it’s been plastered atop another, heavier expression. “S-Something in my throat again.” He hesitates, then continues, “There’s a park in Devon that I-I like, whenever I’m in that area.”

Devon’s quite a trip away, Jon thinks but doesn’t say. Why do you go to Devon? he doesn’t say. Is that where you go on Saturdays? he doesn’t say, because—well. It’s rather embarrassing, among other things, to admit to the fact that you’ve gone through your employee’s desk calendar because you thought he might have shot an old woman three times in the chest and had plans to do the same to you. Particularly when you are having dinner with said employee.

Ugh. Probably best not to think about the fact that he is technically Martin’s boss when he’s sitting three feet away from him at a candlelit table on what, to an outside observer, might look startlingly similar to a date.

But it’s not a date. Because Martin didn’t say it was a date, and he’s just trying to care for Jon, in that… over-the-top way that he does. Jon tries to muster up some irritation at the reminder that he’s likely being coddled, just for habit’s sake, but comes up empty.

He hasn’t been truly irritated with Martin in quite some time. He… doesn’t really know when that changed. When Martin became a source of comfort, rather than of annoyance.

“Jon?” Martin says. Right. Martin is still sitting across from him.

“Right,” Jon says, trying to sound like he hasn’t been drifting off in a hundred different directions. “That sounds… nice.”

Martin’s lips curl up into a small smile. “Yeah. I-It is. It, um. It makes the trip worth it, to be able to sit on one of the benches and just… write poetry.”

Jon has read some of Martin’s poetry, though Martin doesn’t know that. Jon doesn’t like poetry. Jon liked Martin’s poetry. These are, apparently, two truths that can and do coexist.

Jon does not mean to say, “Could I hear one?” But it appears that he is weary enough and relaxed enough and distracted enough that his verbal filter has small, critical holes in it. Damn.

Martin sputters. “U-Um, well, I-I suppose… I could, I-I do have a few, er. M-Memorized, if you—you really…” He trails off uncertainly. “You’re. Um. You’re sure?”

Well. Nothing to do but lean into it, Jon supposes. “I wouldn’t have asked if I weren’t sure, Martin,” he says, a bit snippier than he intends. The tips of his ears are hot, and he is deeply thankful that the dimness of the bistro hides the way they’re surely darkening.

“R-Right.” Martin clears his throat, looks down at the table. “I-I suppose I’ll just… do a short one?”

He proceeds to recite, in quiet, surprisingly stutterless lines, one of the poems that Jon already knows from the notebooks he’d left behind in the Archives. It’s… his favorite, if he were forced to pick one. But there is something different—something more—about hearing Martin speak the words aloud rather than simply reading them on a page. Martin pauses in places Jon hadn’t thought to pause, lingers on words he hadn’t thought to linger on, and adds a softness to the ends of lines and phrases that Jon finds himself enraptured by.

Logically, he knows that it’s not good poetry. He’d begrudgingly taken a poetry class during uni, had hated every minute of it, and had donated all of his books to charity shops the moment he wasn’t in need of them anymore. He’s read Dickens and Poe and Whitman—all the works that are considered great representations of their art form.

Martin’s poetry is nothing like theirs. His lines don’t follow the same rhythms; his words are clumsier, his images less profound. But still, even though Jon knows that it is technically not good poetry, he… he likes it.

He tries not to analyze that feeling too closely.

“So, um. Yeah,” Martin says after he finishes, rubbing his thumb over his ring. “I-It’s not really… great work, heh, you know, s-sorry.”

Jon is not the comforting sort. He’s been told that he’s too sharp at the edges, skin too full of spines and thorns. So he surprises himself, and probably his grandmother from beyond the grave, when he reaches across the table and takes Martin’s hand in his. It’s soft and big, the pads of Martin’s fingers lightly calloused from a past history of manual labor, and Jon thinks just for a moment how small his own hands look in Martin’s. He surprises himself even more when he says, honestly, “I enjoyed it, Martin.”

Martin blinks at him, eyes wide and owlish. His hand is rigid in Jon’s, like he’s afraid that if he moves, he’ll frighten Jon away like a skittish cat. “O-Oh.” It’s hard to tell in the dim light, but Jon thinks Martin might be blushing. “Well. T-Thanks.”

Jon nods once stiffly. He does not retract his hand. At first, it’s because he doesn’t think to do so, too wrapped up in the feeling of his skin against Martin’s. Then, it’s because it’s been long enough that doing so would be more awkward than keeping his hand there. He asks Martin about the inspiration behind the poem, for want of another conversation topic, and Martin talks about the trip he took to the countryside once and how it stuck with him, and Jon’s hand remains atop Martin’s. Martin takes a drink from his glass, and Jon takes a drink from his, but both of them use their free hands, as if in unspoken agreement that this is just how things are now. Jon’s hand is resting atop Martin’s and it will be until he has just cause to move it and that is just the way of the universe. Nothing to be done about it.

Their food comes, and looking extremely regretful about the fact, Martin extracts his hand from underneath Jon’s and reaches for his fork. They don’t mention the loss, and it’s quiet for a period of time while Jon eats his chicken karahi and Martin eats his squash curry and Jon tries not to openly moan at how good the food is.

Something must show on his face, because Martin smiles warmly at him and says, “Well? Was that Yelp reviewer correct when they said that the chicken karahi is ‘literally the best food they’ve ever eaten in their entire life’?”

Jon swallows a bite of admittedly very good chicken. “Well. I don’t know that I would quite go to that extreme, but it is rather enjoyable.” Reminds me of the way my grandmother used to make it, he doesn’t say. That feels like a date conversation, and this isn’t a date.

(It feels very much like a date.)

(It isn’t a date.)

“Good,” Martin says. Then, he smiles, wide and unabashed and like a ray of sunlight, and Jon quickly buries himself in his food again so he doesn’t say something foolish like I really like it when you smile at me like that or Is this a date? or I would very much like this to be a date.

They finish eating, and the waiter takes away their plates with the promise of bringing the check soon. Jon’s hands rest on the table, index finger fiddling with the edge of the cloth placemat in front of him. He’s in the middle of trying to convince himself that yes, it would be ridiculous to take Martin’s hand again, you should definitely not do that on this very much not-a-date, when Martin reaches out and takes Jon’s hand in his. Properly takes it, pressing their palms together and slotting his fingers easily between Jon’s and knocking their rings together as he squeezes gently.

“Um,” Jon says eloquently. He should very much not ask if this is a date. “What are you doing?”

Nope, that’s worse. That’s definitely worse.

“Oh!” Martin lets go of Jon’s hand immediately, and Jon does not try to chase Martin’s hand as it retracts, thank you very much. He’s more dignified than that. “S-Sorry, I thought… I, um. Never mind. I-I shouldn’t have… sorry. Again.”

“It’s fine,” Jon finds himself saying. Then, in an effort to do damage control: “I… didn’t mind.”

“You… didn’t?” Martin seems confused, which is understandable. If Georgie were here, she’d tell him that he’s giving, quote, ‘mixed signals.’ He’d never quite understood what counts as ‘mixed signals,’ and he doesn’t know that he ever will.

“I did not,” Jon confirms. “I just… I suppose I…”

He should not ask if this is a date. He really, really shouldn’t.

“Is this a-a date?”

It appears he’s found another one of the holes in his verbal filter. Lovely.

Martin’s eyes grow impossibly wider. He makes a series of sputtering sounds as Jon waits and tries not to bounce a hole through the floor with the heel of his foot. “You—you didn’t…” Martin seems to have a miniature internal debate with himself, his face cycling through a dozen different expressions over the next few seconds. Finally, he sighs and says, eyes fixated on the table between them, “I had… intended it to be. Though I suppose if—if you didn’t know it was a date, that. Um. Kind of defeats the purpose.”

“Does it?” Jon’s mouth says without his permission.

“I-I mean… you can’t really have a one-sided date,” Martin says with an awkward laugh. The waiter is nowhere to be seen, which Jon is grateful for and disheartened by in equal measure. This situation would certainly be easier with a convenient escape.

“I… suppose.” Jon worries at the edge of the placemat, pulling on a loose thread. “Though, it’s… if this were a date—or, I suppose, if I-I’d known it was meant to be a date—I… wouldn’t have acted much differently.” He pulls harder at the thread, feeling a bit bad for the way the fabric bunches around it. “I… would not have been… that is to say, I would have liked it if… rather, to say that I didn’t think about it would be, er… well, incorrect.”

Martin stares at him, clearly unable to make sense of Jon’s admittedly disjointed, half-finished sentences. Jon sighs and says, under his breath, “I am not opposed to considering tonight a date.”

Martin’s cheeks are red enough now that Jon can see the flush, even in the dim light. “U-Um. What?”

“I am not opposed,” Jon repeats, louder, “to considering tonight a date.” Lord, that’s mortifying to say out loud. How do people do this? To emphasize his point, he sticks his hand out, palm-up on the table. It’s stiff and awkward and he probably looks like a cat with its hackles raised. He focuses on the cable knit of Martin’s jumper so he doesn’t have to see whatever amused or mocking or disappointed expression is on Martin’s face as he realizes just how bad Jon is at all of this.

Martin is quiet for a moment. Then, just as Jon is about to pull his hand away and flee for the exit, he feels a touch against his palm. Martin’s hand settles tentatively atop his—not weaving their fingers together, not even properly holding it, just… pressing together, palm to palm. Jon can feel Martin’s heartbeat faintly against the tips of his fingers where they press against the inside of Martin’s wrist. “Okay,” Martin says softly, like Jon has just given him a precious gift. “Then it’s a date.”

It’s a date. Jon’s skin has absolutely no reason to prickle at those words, nor does his stomach have any reason to squeeze and sprout butterflies. He nods, a bit brusquely, and opens his mouth to say something—god knows what—when the waiter appears next to their table, somehow having both comically bad and impossibly good timing.

Martin pays, despite Jon’s insistence that he can cover his own share, and then they’re back out in the cool night air, making their way toward the tube station. The first few minutes are quiet. There’s a tension between them that feels more anticipatory than awkward. Their hands brush once, twice. Then, on the third time, Martin hooks his fingers around Jon’s and clasps his hand in his, and Jon lets out a breath he hadn’t known he’d been holding.

They hold hands all the way to the tube station, up until they have to part ways to take separate lines. Jon runs through all the things that he thinks he’s supposed to say in a situation like this—I had fun tonight or We should do this again sometime or… something—but ends up saying instead, “How long have you…?”

He trails off, squeezing Martin’s hand a few times thoughtlessly, like a warm, bony stress ball. Martin seems to infer the rest of his question, however, because he squeezes Jon’s hand in return and says, “It’s… new for me too, if that’s what you’re asking.”

Jon nods and squeezes Martin’s hand again. He thinks that’s going to become quite a habit if they keep this up. “Right.”

Martin hesitates, before letting his grip on Jon’s hand loosen slightly. “We… we don’t have to do this again if you don’t want to. I-I know things are complicated right now, and I…” He worries his bottom lip between his teeth. “I want to do this again, for… for what it’s worth. But I get it. If you don’t, that is. For—for any reason.”

“I do,” Jon says, surprising himself with his conviction. “I-I don’t… you’re right. Things are… complicated.” That’s certainly a word for it. “But I… I trust you, Martin. O-Or… I want to trust you.” He takes a deep breath. “I am making the decision to trust you.” It’s hard and it’s terrifying and there’s an animal instinct deep within Jon that’s telling him not to expose his vulnerable side, but… somehow, despite all of that, Martin makes him feel… well. Not safe, but as close to safe as he can get right now. Which is an accomplishment in its own right.

Martin exhales slowly and gives Jon a small, hesitant smile. “Thank you. I-I know that’s difficult, and I…” Martin squeezes Jon’s hand, just once. “I-I’m happy.”

And Jon finds that he means it when he says softly, “I’m happy too.”

Martin gets on his train, and Jon gets on his. And despite the ever-present itching beneath his skin and the persistent belief that something isn’t right and the knowledge that he is likely a hunted man, from the moment he lets go of Martin’s hand to the moment he closes his eyes and curls onto his side in bed, that happiness remains.

#tma #the magnus archives #jonathan sims #martin blackwood #jonmartin #ask #anon #this got so incredibly long... i hope you like it!#my writing #my fic

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luminnara · 3 years

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It’s Been a Long, Long Time | Ch 6

Summary: When HYDRA had their prized asset, the Winter Soldier, they did something no one ever thought was possible: they gave super soldier serum to an omega. With the sole purpose of tending to him during his ruts, she spends decades living in HYDRA facilities, denied her humanity and her life. Now, years later, Bucky Barnes has his mind and his own life back...and the last thing he ever expects is to see a familiar omega again. Bucky/OC, a little angsty but mostly smutty/fluffy/romantic!

Part One | ... | Part Five | Part Six | Part Seven

Tags: @kyrah-williams @oceanmermaidwitch @shawnie--jo @super-cape @ferxaniti @namjoonwatcheshentai @fandomsstolemylife00 @youngblood199456 @nightlygiggless @darlingely @ bluemoon-icecream @kaz11283 @jenjen8675309 @dollfacev8 @witchinpractice @mystical-b3ar @sukeraa

Bucky refused to leave the omega’s side while she stayed in the lab. Bruce had to stop him from trying to crawl onto the bed with her, and after about the third time, he convinced the super soldier to just pull up a chair like a civilized person and hold her hand while she drifted off to sleep again. Now that she was with her alpha, she had settled down for another nap, more interested in resting than answering any more questions so long as Bucky stayed and kept an eye on her.

Steve had to admit, it was endearing. He had never seen his friend so absolutely enraptured like this. Whenever the omega, or Ten, as Bruce was still calling her, shifted in her sleep, Bucky’s eyes were snapping over to make sure that she was okay. Whenever she let out a little whimper, he was purring and stroking her hair. Whenever she seemed like she might wake up again, his attention was completely on her.

“So...sure you don’t remember her?” Steve asked, pulling up a chair. He had left for a few hours to work out, and after a lack of updates from FRIDAY, he headed back down to check on everything. They were exactly as he had left them, which was a good sign. At least nothing was getting out of hand.

Yet.

Bucky shrugged, rubbing the back of the omega’s hand with his thumb. “I dunno. It’s...foggy.”

“Well, it seems to me like you’ve either got a history together, or she’s mistaking you for someone else.” Steve said. “Quite frankly, it’s hard to do the latter.”

“I’ve dreamt of her.” Bucky said quietly.

“...what?”

“It’s not much, but...I’ve seen her face.” Bucky looked down at her. “I think that no matter how many times HYDRA wiped my memory, she’s always been in there. Kinda like the one constant that was always around, the one thing I could always count on being in the base with me.”

“Why didn’t you ever tell me?” Steve asked.

“Never knew if she was real or not.” Bucky sighed. “I thought...maybe she was just something my mind made up to fill some of the gaps. But she smells exactly like I remember.”

Steve sat back in his chair, his arms crossed over his chest as he watched his friend. Bucky wasn’t snarling anymore, most of his attention trained on the omega while she slept. Now that he was close to her, he had calmed down significantly, though he still wouldn’t let Steve within five feet of her bed.

“Just got off the phone with Tony,” Bruce announced, walking in. “He and Pepper will be back tonight. Pepper’s having some clothes and personal items delivered for our new omega friend here. They also asked about renovating a more permanent room for her, but I, uh...told them I wasn’t exactly sure what the situation would be.”

“She’s staying with me,” Bucky said immediately.

“Now hang on, hang on,” Steve leaned forward.

“Steve,” Bucky growled. “I want her with me.”

“Buck, you don’t even know her—“

Bucky interrupted him with a loud snarl, the omega in question whining and squirming in her sleep at the sound of it.

He immediately shut up, brushing a thumb over her cheek and shushing her until she was sleeping soundly again. Fuck, he felt so stupid. What was wrong with him? She could have woken up, or been scared, or upset, all because he couldn’t keep his big mouth shut. She needed her rest, and he needed to stay quiet.

Steve almost couldn’t believe what he was seeing.

“Oh, Buck,” he shook his head. “You’re in deep.”

—

Amoretta woke feeling well rested, and it wasn’t until she tried to stretch and felt the tug of her IV drip that she remembered where she was. Opening her eyes revealed the bright lights of the lab, and as she started to sit up, a few faces came into view.

“Welcome back, Sleeping Beauty,” Bruce said. “How are you feelin’?”

She licked her lips. “Juice box. Now.”

“Way ahead of you. Had this one waiting as soon as you started waking up.” He tossed one to her and was pleased when her hand shot up to catch it. “Reflexes look good. Vitals are all reading normal. I’ll have to run another test to see what’s going on with those suppressants, but I’m willing to bet you’re metabolizing them fairly quickly now. How are you feeling?”

She pulled the little straw off the back of the carton and jammed it into the top. “Nauseous. Like usual.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Side effect of the suppressants?”

“Always has been. Other than that...I feel great, actually.”

“Well, as soon as these wear off, we can figure out something nicer and more modern for you. If you want to use them, I mean.” Bruce shrugged. “Your choice.”

She smiled. “Choice. I like that.”

“Hey, we’re all about independence here,” Steve said happily. He was glad to see she was awake, even though Bucky wasn’t.

The other alpha was still at her side, but, as of about half an hour ago, he was napping. Steve made a mental note to never let him forget the way he slept straight through the one moment he had been waiting for all day.

“What time is it?” She asked. “There’s no windows in this damn place.”

“Just after dinner,” Bruce chuckled. “You slept most of the day. Bucky hasn’t left your side.”

She looked over to her soldier, smiling warmly at the sight of him sleeping. He was even snoring softly. “I haven’t gotten to see this in forty years.”

“Did you two, uh…” Steve cleared his throat. “Spend a lot of time together?”

The omega laughed. “You always this awkward around girls?”

“That’s not—“

“Relax, I’m just giving you a hard time.” She sucked on her straw. “But...yeah, we did.”

“So...you were just kept for his ruts, or…” Steve was so awkward it was almost endearing. “I’m sorry, that came out wrong. I think.”

“It’s okay. I know my lot in life.” She kept her eyes trained on Bucky as she spoke. “But if I’m going to answer more questions, I want to get out of this bed. And I want real clothes. Then I’ll talk.”

And so, only several minutes later, Bruce was handing her a sweater and some shorts he had grabbed from a little stash of extra clothing, and Bucky was startled awake by Ten stepping past him. She was finally free from all the tubes and cords that had been sticking out of her during her little hospital stay, and she was all too eager now to explore the tower.

She stood on wobbly legs, almost falling onto him when she tried to take a step. Bucky was up in a flash, ready to catch her, and as she fell against his chest, he wrapped his arms around her. Despite just waking up, he felt fully alert, completely ready to tend to his omega’s every need.

His omega...he liked that train of thought.

“We can head up to the common area. It should still be quiet.” Steve said, leading the way out.

Bucky kept an arm around his omega’s waist as they followed, Bruce bringing up the rear. He wanted to be touching her at all times, constantly in contact so that he couldn’t lose track of her. His instincts were roaring to life, demanding that he do everything in his power to make sure that she was safe and in his line of sight. The elevator ride was tense and full of possessive growling, Bucky constantly shoving Ten behind him to keep her in the corner and as far away from Steve as possible, and everyone breathed a sigh of relief when the doors slid open and they could step out of the cramped space again.

The common area was empty, thankfully, FRIDAY informing them that the other Avengers were all either working out or in their private quarters.

“Good,” Steve said, heading towards the couches. “No interruptions. Got it, FRIDAY?”

“Understood, Captain Rogers.”

“C’mere,” Bucky mumbled, pulling his omega down to sit on one of the couches with him. Part of him was feeling a little sheepish and self conscious of his behavior...but the rest of him didn’t give a shit. The others could stare and shake their heads all they wanted, but he’d be damned if he let Ten slip through his fingers again.

Or whatever her name was.

Steve and Bruce sat across from them, making sure that they left as much space as possible between themselves and the new omega. Neither of them had ever seen Bucky behaving quite like this--he was on guard, hyper aware of everything around him. He made sure that she was pressed up against his side, an arm draped possessively over the back of the couch so that it was unmistakable that she was with him.

Christ, what had gotten into him? He couldn’t remember ever acting this way about an omega before.

“So…” Steve cleared his throat, sitting with his elbows resting on his knees.

Bucky didn’t really like the way his posture made him lean forward towards his omega, but he could deal with it for now. “So.”

“What do you wanna know?” Ten asked, plucking at Bucky’s shirt. She seemed to be even clingier with him than he was with her, perfectly happy to be hanging off him or tucked up against his side. “You met my demands. I guess I’m an open book now.”

“I don’t want to overstep my bounds,” Steve said. “We just need to know as much as you’re willing to share.”

“Then ask a question.”

“...Alright.” he cleared his throat again. “You said HYDRA used you to help with Bucky’s ruts?”

Ten nodded, her expression remaining even and cool.

“Could you tell us more about that?” Steve glanced at Bucky. “Were there ever any other omegas, or anyone we should know about?”

“There were omegas before me.” she answered. “When I first got to the compound, there were a lot of us. They kept us all in big cells, so everyone talked. People said things about how HYDRA was grabbing omegas off the street for their super soldiers, and how the one at our base was the biggest and scariest.”

Bruce raised an eyebrow at her tone. He wasn’t exactly sure what he expected her to sound like while she regaled them with her life story, but he definitely thought there would be a tad bit more apprehension in her voice. She seemed proud of herself, and more matter-of-fact than a lot of omegas would be while talking about their alpha’s previous partners. Or...whatever you called prisoners whose only purpose was to help during ruts.

“And I bet he was,” she sighed, leaning her cheek on Bucky’s chest and looking up at him adoringly.

“Well, I don’t know about that…” Bucky said, an almost shy smile on his lips. And...was he actually blushing?

Steve was going to lose his mind.

“You said the other omegas couldn’t handle it? That’s why you were given the serum?” he prompted, trying to keep them on track before he drowned in the sticky sweetness of her happy pheromones.

“Right.” she turned her attention back to Steve and Bucky let out a quiet huff. “HYDRA didn’t really like to take care of us. And the soldier--I mean, Bucky--would wear them out. So...HYDRA would just kind of let them go. Or put them down, maybe. I never saw it.”

Bucky’s expression dropped. His blush was gone, and he almost looked like he was going to be sick as he listened to her talk.

“But it wasn’t his fault,” she said quickly, glancing between him and Steve. “I don’t think it was ever on purpose, you were just...demanding.”

He gave a groan, leaning his head back against the couch. “You don’t have to sugarcoat it, doll. I’d rather know what I did, at this point.”

She offered a small shrug. “I don’t really remember it being that bad, but I don’t think I ever met you before they gave me the serum.”

“That’s something, at least.” he mumbled, dragging a hand down his face.

“Why you?” Steve asked. “Did you have any prior military experience, any ties to something the others didn’t?”

“No.” she laughed. “I never even got in fights before HYDRA.”

“Then why’d they use such an important resource on you, specifically? Not trying to take a dig at you, it’s just...well, omegas don’t usually…”

“I know,” she said. “Omegas aren’t supposed to be tough, right? That’s why they only ever let alphas become super soldiers.”

“That’s not what I…” Steve trailed off and then sighed. “Sorry.”

“I told you, they gave me the serum so that I would be strong enough to hold my own. It also ensured I would always be around, no matter how many years passed.” Her fingers found Bucky’s free hand and she took it, absentmindedly playing with the smooth vibranium knuckles. “Having me as a constant meant they could stop spending so much time and effort on always having a new omega around for him. Plus…well, I wasn’t really there, but I heard something about it once…”

“What?” Bucky asked.

“They let you choose who was going to become your omega.” She said, looking up at him. “They gave you a bunch of scents, and you chose mine. I guess it was the only reason they didn’t, uh...humanely euthanize me.”

His eyes were wide. The thought of HYDRA killing his omega brought a low growl to his throat, his chest rumbling with the vibrations of it. “No.”

“Well, clearly they didn’t!” She said brightly. “My file said I was a kicker.”

“So they gave you, an already aggressive omega, the serum, but never gave you any trigger words or fished around in your brain?” Bruce shook his head. “Surprisingly sloppy, considering who they are.”

“It’s not like they ever sent me out into the world. I stayed in my cell all day, unless I was needed for a rut. Then I went and stayed in a different cell.” She sighed. “And if they ever needed to, they could just use the alpha to grab me.”

Bucky clearly didn’t like the thought of that. He made a frustrated sound, leaning his head back again. “Great.”

“It was never bad.” She let go of his hand, moving her fingers to cup his jaw. “You never hurt me. You wouldn’t. Sometimes, when I acted up, they would make you go retrieve me, because they knew you were the only one who could do it. If they didn’t send you, they would just knock me out.”

“So...that was it?” Steve asked. “Ruts, serum, cryo?”

“For thirty years!” She chirped. “The last time they froze me, they were freezing him, too. They always tried to keep us in cryo at the same time so that I could be thawed out and ready when he needed me. But...I guess they just...left me there?” She frowned.

“See, that’s what I’ve been trying to figure out.” Steve said. “I didn’t see any signs of a struggle at that base. I’d say they left in an orderly fashion, but the fact that they didn’t take you along makes me think they were in more of a hurry than they made it seem.”

“Natasha might have a better idea,” Bruce suggested. “We can talk to her, try to figure out—“

“FRIDAY, open the damn door or so help me God I will rewrite your entire personality.” A voice interrupted from the other side of the door.

“I’m sorry, Tony, but Captain Rogers asked me not to.” The AI said.

“Well, is it an emergency?” The man scoffed.

“No emergency measures have been executed. No security breaches have been identified.”

“Then I’m sorry, but Captain Rogers does not outrank me when it comes to my own robots. Open the door, beautiful.”

She seemed to sigh. “Very well, Mr. Stark.”

Ten perked up, leaning forward slightly. She was watching the door curiously, tilting her head a little when she heard it slide open. Bucky rolled his eyes, grumbling to himself quietly and pulling her up against his side as another alpha strode in.

“Really? Having a party without me?” the man asked, a smooth, casual air about him as he walked in and looked at everyone on the couches. When his eyes landed on the omega cuddled up next to Bucky, he stopped. “Ah, is this our new guest?”

“Go away, Stark.” Bucky growled. He didn’t like how long the other man’s gaze was lingering on his omega, not when there weren’t any scars on her neck to show who she belonged to.

“Always such a charmer, Barnes.” Tony said, flopping down next to Steve. “Lovely to see you, too. Care to introduce me to your friend? ….No, you’d rather just snarl and forget your words? I knew you were old, but I didn’t realize you were actually a caveman.”

“Tony,” Bruce groaned. “Don’t aggravate him. Please.”

“Why not?” Tony leaned back against the cushions, completely at ease and totally happy to be pressing every one of Bucky’s buttons.

“Are you Tony Stark?” Ten asked, wiggling out of Bucky’s grip to sit on the edge of their couch.

Bucky caught her around the waist before she could get very far, though, and dragged her onto his lap. He loomed over her, sneering dangerously at Tony as the other alpha flashed a smile.

“Bingo.” he said.

“I never thought I’d meet a Stark,” she admitted. “I always heard about Stark Industries, but I lived too far away from any big cities to ever get to see any of his exhibitions.”

“Ah. You’re from my father’s time. Of course.” Tony shot a pointed glare in Bucky’s direction. “Seems like Bruce left out a few teensy weensy important details on the phone today.”

“Well, it’s been, uh...an ongoing learning experience.” Bruce said sheepishly.

“Lots of developments, huh?” Tony raised an eyebrow.

“You could say that.” Steve said under his breath. “We came up here so Ten could be more comfortable while we talk.”

“Oh yeah? What’re we talkin’ about?” Tony asked.

“They were asking about my time with HYDRA,” she answered, cutting in before anyone else could. “And with...Bucky.”

Saying his name felt odd. Her tongue wasn’t used to it, and her mind wanted to call him alpha, or Winter Soldier. Bucky just seemed so…casual, such a strange thing to call a deadly super soldier. When she heard herself, though, she decided that she definitely didn’t hate it.

Bucky’s heart gave a little leap at the sound of his name falling from her lips. He wanted her to say it over and over again, in whispers and in screams, for nobody else’s ears but his.

“...Buck?” Steve asked, pulling him away from his thoughts. “You, uh, kinda zoned out there.”

It wasn’t until Bucky looked at Steve that he realized his eyes had been trained on the omega in his lap. “Yeah?”

“...Is this seriously how you’ve spent the past day and a half?” Tony asked. “Steve, I’m sorry, and I’m sure you’re just trying to be as helpful as you can be, like always, but I think you should let these two get a room.”

Steve looked at him incredulously. “Tony, really? I’m trying to get to the bottom of why exactly HYDRA would abandon the omega they pumped full of super soldier serum. They can get a room later—“

“Yeah, uh, wonder boy? I don’t think your pal is gonna last much longer before he tries to rip our heads off.” Tony nodded towards a very disgruntled Bucky. “You can resume your interrogation tomorrow, Cap.”

Steve looked to Bruce for help, but he only offered a small shrug and stood, heading towards the door. “He’s right, Steve. They deserve some alone time.”

“But—hey!” Steve protested as Bucky picked his omega up, striding past the two alphas sitting on the opposite couch.

“Thanks for everything, Steve.” Bucky said over his shoulder.

Ten squirmed, peeking around Bucky’s arm as she was carried away. “Bye, Mr. Stark!”

“Don’t look at him,” Bucky growled as they walked out the door.

“Did his father really make hoverboards? I heard once that Howard was promising hoverboards—“

“No.” He said flatly.

“...oh.” She huffed, slumping against him. “Where are we going?”

“My apartment.” Bucky stepped into the elevator, his grip still tight around her.

The omega perked up. “You have a whole apartment?”

He puffed his chest out a little. “Course I do. Gotta have a nice place for you, don’t I?”

“So I can stay?” Her eyes were bright and happy. “I can stay there, with you, all the time? Not just when you rut?”

He felt a sad little pang in his heart. When he spoke again, his voice was low and soft. “Of course, sweetheart.”

Then, his eyes widened as he realized what he was saying. “I mean, uh...i-if you want to, that is. I know it’s fast and all, and maybe...would you rather have your own room? Or I can stay on the couch—“

“Bucky,” she cut him off with a laugh, a soft hand cupping his jaw. “You’ve been my alpha for seventy years. I’d say we’re actually moving pretty slow.”

His expression relaxed again, lips stretching into a small smile. “Right. Yeah. You’re right.”

They spent the rest of the elevator ride in comfortable silence, Bucky rubbing his scent glands all over her hair. He wanted to make sure that the next time they encountered anyone else, she smelled exactly like him.

Like her alpha.

When the elevator came to a gentle stop at Bucky’s floor, the doors opened, and he stepped out in front of his apartment door. It opened for him, having already scanned his biometrics, revealing a small, but cozy, living room.

He set his omega down on her feet, watching anxiously as she stepped into his quarters. Did she like it? Fuck, was it too small? It was too small. She probably hated it. Fuck, fuck, fuck...he had to salvage this somehow.

“Well, uh…” shit, he sounded too nervous. He wanted her to think he was a strong, capable alpha.

He cleared his throat for another start. “Welcome home, Omega.”

Wait. That wasn’t right. Should he be calling her that? No, probably not, it sounded too possessive, too uncaring. He wished he just knew her fucking name, or something.

“I mean…Ten?”

Shit, he sounded so stupid. He wanted to impress her, not...do whatever this was.

She just laughed, though, turning and looking at him with those eyes that sparkled like starlight. “Amoretta. My name is Amoretta.”

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x oc #abo #omegaverse #alpha bucky #alpha bucky barnes #it's been a long long time #avengers x reader #avengers x oc

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navegandoaciegas · 4 years

Text

Crybaby

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x f!reader (College AU)

Warnings: smut, ass fingering, orgasm denial, humiliation, lots of talks about panties.

Summary: You catch Bucky trying to steal your panties on laundry day.

A/N: this is partly @buckycuddlebuddy ‘s fault tbh. Enjoy some desperate, horny Bucky. Minors DNI.

The timer on the dryer unit you’d occupied went off, signaling that your weekly load of laundry was dry and ready. Bucky cast a nervous glance around the eerily empty room, fingers twitching in the front pocket of his hoodie.

He knew it was wrong, but his laundry was done too (just a coincidence, really, not like he’d wake up at 3 am on a Monday because he knew you did your washing around that time), and you weren’t there yet. You usually retrieved your load in the morning anyways.

Just a peek, he reasoned. Out of curiosity. You wouldn’t even realize they were missing, and if you did you’d chalk it up to the washing machine eating your clothes.

You’d show up to class on Tuesday and sit next to him while he’d be wearing your pretty lace panties and you’d be none the wiser.

Fuck, he was getting hard just thinking about it.

He dug in your laundry, sifting through mascara stained washcloths and an endless amount of oversized t-shirts, until he found what he’d been looking for.

Small, so tiny in fact that he wondered how your lips could fit in them. He groaned -the idea of your pussy hanging out of the material made his cock twitch, and brought the panties to his face, rubbing his nose all over the lace. He’d fantasized of burying his face between your legs all semester long, and this seemed close enough, the closest he could get to you anyways.

They seemed stretchy, and he hoped he could manage to stuff himself inside them.

“Didn’t peg you for a panty sniffer, Barnes.”

The world stilled around him, the ring in his ears so loud that he wondered if you could hear it too.

He was so engrossed in his creeping, that he hadn’t heard the door open and click shut, nor your steps as you walked behind him, or the slight groan that the washing machine behind him emitted when you settled on it, swinging your legs.

Slowly, he turned around, your lace panties still tightly clutched to his chest.

You almost chuckled at the sight of his bulging eyes and gaping mouth. Almost.

“That- it’s not- not how it looks like- I-”

“What, you were gonna fold my laundry for me? How considerate,” you sneered, but the look on your face was far from disgust.

Derision, sure, but not disgust. The mischievous interest in your eyes sent chills down his spine, not necessarily the good kind.

He felt dread settle in his stomach, anticipating whatever consequence his actions would have.

“You do this often?” you asked, tilting your head to the side, naked legs still swinging over the washing machine.

Bucky couldn’t find the words, and honestly the gall, to speak, so he just shook his head vehemently, shuffling on his feet.

“Hm, you like sniffing ‘em?”

He remained unmoving, too humiliated to do anything.

“Oh, I got it,” you beamed, pointing a finger at him and squinting your eyes, “You like touching yourself with pretty panties, hm? Like using them to fuck your dick, and cum all over ‘em?”

He wanted to answer, tell you to fuck off and sprint away to hide in his dorm for the rest of his life, but honestly he deserved this and so much worse. He almost considered dropping out of college entirely, but that glint in your eyes kept him anchored to the ground.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured, keeping his gaze on his white sneakers, “I-, I promise, I never done it before, I don’t know why-, look I won’t do it again, I swear,” he pleaded, tears pooling in his crystal eyes and threatening to stream down his face.

You cooed, honest to God coeed, a mocking pout on your lips.

You should have left, and reported him, but those pretty tears of his, the tremble in his voice, the stuttered pleas, only served to spur you on, a familiar warmth building up in your core.

“I bet if word got out of this, no one would want to hang around the resident creep anymore. Good luck getting girls then. Although, well, I don’t think you get too many under normal circumstances, do you?” you snorted, “That would be embarrassing, hm? Wouldn’t want that, would you?”

He found himself shaking his head, trying to swallow the lump in his throat to avoid giving you any more reason to mock him.

“It’s your lucky day then, because I have no intention to tell anyone,” you announced, stepping down to lean against the machine, arms crossed over your stomach.

“You- you don’t?” he wondered.

The notion should have elated him, but he felt himself growing more uneasy and confused with the smirk on your face.

“Won’t tell anyone if you don’t. Cross my heart,” you laughed, making a show of placing a hand on your chest.

He eyed you suspiciously. “Why?”

“Where’s the fun in that, Barnes? I wouldn’t enjoy bullying you if I’m not the only one doing it,” you chirped, “That doesn’t mean that my forgiveness should come for free, tho.”

His breath hitched, and you followed his Adam’s apple as it bobbed up and down his throat.

You could feel the control in your grasp, panties getting wetter with each one of his tears.

“I’ll do anything,” he swore, and you almost wished he’d fall on his knees and beg.

“Anything you say, huh?” you paused, “Strip,” you commanded, leaning back against the washing machine.

Bucky furrowed his brows and looked up in confusion, then disbelief, finally embarrassment. “Wh- what? But, but what if someone sees, I-”

“Then you better hurry.”

“But I-”

“You fuckin’ heard me the first time.”

He was startled into action, hands hastily pulling at his hoodie and jeans until he was standing in nothing but socks and underwear.

“I’m not gonna repeat myself again.”

He gulped visibly, and hesitated before hooking his fingers around the waistband of his boxers, pulling them down his legs.

He blushed harder, ducking his head.

His cock sprung out of his boxers, and the mouthwatering sight of it had you reconsidering Bucky Barnes and all your life choices during this semester.

He was glistening in pre cum, painfully hard and veiny, and definitely thick enough that fitting it inside your cunt would be hard work on both parts. You imagined taking him in your mouth, how you would definitely choke around his girth, and your jaw would be sore for days.

Not today, though. Bad boys did not get that kind of privilege.

You bit your lips, and Bucky fought the impulse to squirm under your intense gaze.

“Something wrong?” he rasped out, praying for the ground to open up and swallow him whole in case you found him too small, too crooked, too hairy.

You snorted, eyebrows raised skeptically. “Yeah, babe, the fact that I haven’t seen you naked before. You been hiding all this,” you eyed his crotch suggestively, “from me all this time?”

“T- thanks,” he stuttered, offering you a small smile, eyes trained on the ground. He tried to ignore the way his heart fluttered when you called him an endearing term, reminding himself that this was all a game to you, a game that he was more than willing to play if it ended up with his cock buried deep inside you.

You sighed then, pondering your thoughts. He was not your usual type, but he was cute in a nerdy way, shy and quiet, and he was packing more than any other man you’d had before.

Plus, this was way too entertaining for you to pass up.

“Wear ‘em.”

Bucky’s head snapped up at the command, but this time he did not hesitate to follow your instructions, a bit too eager as he slid the panties up his thighs.

The shutter of your phone’s camera brought him out of his thoughts, and his eyes widened in horror when he saw you take pictures of him. He trusted you wouldn’t spread them around, but the thrill of danger had him leak more pre cum, wetting a patch on the lace.

“So that’s your deal? You like wearing panties? Didn’t even try to act like you didn’t want to,” you snickered, “What a whore.”

The situation couldn’t get more humiliating, and he couldn’t get more desperate for you.

“Be a good boy, Bucky. Fold the laundry for me, since that’s clearly what you meant to do,” you laughed scornfully, nodding to the basket at your feet.

He walked to you slowly, bending over to pick it up, and yelped when you slapped his ass harshly, the sound bouncing off the walls and shooting straight to his aching cock.

“Cute. Now go, you got something to do and I don’t have all night.”

He sighed, and got to work, unloading each item from the dryer, and folding it neatly.

You eyed the lines of his back, the round globes of his ass, the string of your thong dipping between his cheeks. You almost lost yourself imagining how pretty he would look all scratched and marked before you furrowed your brows, observing the way he folded on of your nicer shirts that you wore on interviews and internships.

“Can’t even fold laundry, look at you,” you tsked, shaking your head, “Try that again, I don’t want to spend more than necessary ironing it.”

He obeyed, without any protest, smoothing the creases he’d created, and continuing with your load, until the dryer was empty and you were satisfied.

“Good job, baby boy,” you praised, beckoning him over.

He got closer, close enough that you could feel the heat emanating from his body. He looked so pretty like that, all teary and obedient.

You wanted to make him yours and ruin him for everybody else.

“You’re a fuckin’ pervert, you know that? A creep and a pervert.”

You saw the way his cock twitched behind your lace at the words, and almost doubled over in laughter.

The night couldn’t get any better.

“Fuck, you really are a pervert. This what you get off to? You imagine me calling you names, degrading you like the bitch you are? You want to be humiliated, don’t you?”

A desperate, pathetic whine escaped his throat, and he felt his knees growing weak with need. He was naked in a public space where everyone could see him, being belittled and humiliated by the girl he’d been pining over, and he was hard as a rock, getting off every word that spilled out of your mouth.

“Well,” you purred, fisting the hair at the back of his neck and tugging harshly, “I think we can arrange that.”

“Yes, yes, please, I want it,” he whimpered, chest heaving, “I want you, I’m your slut, I-, you can do whatever you want to me.”

You almost moaned then, intoxicated by his burning desire.

“Good boy,” you hummed, releasing his hair to stroke his cheekbone, smiling at the way he leaned his head against your palm, letting his eyes flutter shut.

“Remember you can tell me to stop or slow down whenever you want, and I will. I won’t do anything you don’t want me to,” you added more serious, observing his face for any trace of anything but enthusiasm.

When you found none, and he nodded feverishly, you let your hand fall from his cheek to his shoulder, tracing the outlines of his lean muscle.

“Can- can you kiss me, please?” he asked, and he begged so prettily that you could do nothing but humor him, crashing your lips against his.

It was messy, rough. He was sloppy, and from the way he moved against you, you guessed he didn’t have too much experience.

Better, you reasoned. You’d teach him all he needed to know to please you, and you only.

You bit on his bottom lip, and Bucky yelped in surprise, parting his lips.

He tasted like mint on your tongue, and you sighed in content, letting your hands travel down his sides, barely grazing his skin, scratching the hair on his belly.

He shuddered under your touch, goosebumps erupting in your wake.

When you reached his lower stomach, you felt him tense, his breathing getting harder, his tongue more insistent.

He was drooling and crying, you realized, as he snapped his hips against your leg, humping you like a dog.

You broke away from the kiss, catching your breath.

“Look at you, you gettin’ real worked up and I barely even touched you. What are you, a fuckin’ virgin?” you chuckled, playing with the little bow on the front of your panties.

You’d expected him to laugh, or deny, but he just stood there awkwardly, avoiding your gaze,

“I’m not,” he grumbled, avoiding your gaze.

“Then why are you acting like one?” you prodded, but didn’t wait for him to answer, claiming his mouth in a searing kiss.

His hesitant hands groped your breasts, finally gaining the confidence to do more than linger awkwardly on your hips. He twirled your stiff nipples, rubbing his thumbs over them, movements getting more frenzied the closer he got to his release.

He crouched awkwardly to be at your chest level while still pressing his hips onto you, and tugged your loose tank top down, moaning at the sight of your tits.

“Go on baby, suck on my tits.”

He didn’t need any more encouragement to assault your nipples, latching his mouth onto one of them, and suckling. You wondered if he’d ever even touched a pair of boobs before, but his ministrations were working either way, making your walls clamp down on nothing.

You finally grasped him in your hand, his cock heavy and throbbing in your palm as you stroked him lazily, spurred on by his little whimpers.

His whole body quivered when you ran your thumb over his slit, and you marvelled at his sensitivity.

“You like it when I touch you like this, baby?” you moaned in his ear, “I bet you do, I bet you could cum already just from this. Just a handjob, like the pathetic little boy you are, hm?”

He released your tits with a wet pop, and rose to full height again, resting his forehead on yours.

“Yes, yes, please,” he sobbed, “please, princess, more.”

You complied, doubling your efforts. He inhaled sharply when you added your other hand and began twisting both your wrists in opposite directions.

“You want your princess to suck your dick, baby? Want me to get on my knees and take you in my mouth?”

He nodded against you, grinding his hard cock against your hand, desperate to chase his release.

“Or maybe you want your princess’ pretty pussy? You want to fill me with your fat cock and stuff me full of your filthy cum, don’t you?”

He began blabbering, breathing harder, sloppily snapping his hips. He had a look of pure bliss on his face, his eyes shut tightly, mouth hung open and a layer of sweat coating his forehead.

You could feel him grow and throb in your hand, and just before he was about to reach his high, you stopped your hands.

His eyes shot open and he opened and closed his mouth to protest, but you gave him no time, fisting his hair and slamming him against the washer, bending him over the cold surface.

“What, you thought I’d catch you stealing my panties and I’d let that go?” you tutted, bending over him, pressing your front to his back, whispering in his ear “Bad boys need to be punished, don’t you agree?”

A choking sound escaped his parted lips, and you giggled against his skin, licking a strip behind his neck.

You let your hands wander down the expanse of his back, settling on the waistband of your panties. You indulged yourself again, slapping his ass because you liked how it jiggled and how Bucky whined.

“You have a nice ass, you know,” you mused, slouching back to get a good vision of it, “You ever had anyone stick anything up there?”

“W-what?” he sputtered, crooning his head to look at you, “N-no, never.”

“Cute.”

He squirmed in embarrassment when you spread his cheeks, groaning when he felt your spit drip down on him. You massaged a finger around his rim, your hand coated in your spit and his pre cum.

“Relax, I’ll make you feel really good, promise.”

You gradually felt his muscles relax under your touch as you soothingly ran a hand down his back and kept whispering calming, sweet nothings in his ear.

Then, you dipped a finger past the rim.

“See, not that bad, huh?” you smiled, working your finger inside him, caressing his walls.

You nipped the skin of his back, peppering his muscles with fluttering kisses, grazing your teeth over his column.

You dipped another in, and Bucky hissed, wiggling his legs.

“Hey, it’s okay,” you shushed him, “You’re doing so good for me, baby.”

He preened under your praise, and you began scissoring your fingers inside his ass, working him open and looking for the spot you knew would make him beg for more.

The heat between your legs was almost unbearable, your pussy desperate to be stuffed full of his cock.

You loved how pliant Bucky was being, obedient and submissive in your grasp. You noticed the tears that hadn’t stopped streaming down his face, and huffed a laugh.

“A pervert, a slut, and a fuckin’ crybaby, aren’t you?” you mumbled, a genuine smile tugging at your lips.

“Fuck, oh fuck, fuck, fuck,” he chanted, holding onto the washing machine for dear life, tongue lolling out of his mouth, drool dripping down his chin, making it known that you’d found what you’d been looking for.

“Yes, fuck, please princess, gimme more,” he begged, overwhelmed with a pleasure like he’d never experienced before.

He felt like a fire had been lit in his lower belly, and it was spreading to every limb, encompassing him whole.

You grasped his cock in one of your hands while your fingers kept pummeling into his ass, feeling the rim clench around you and his cock pulsate.

You thought you could cum from his beautiful sounds alone, and you kept going until you were sure he was on the verge of a mind shattering orgasm.

Then, you stopped again, and this time Bucky sobbed, blabbering and wailing, begging you.

“Please princess, I’ll do anything, just please let me cum, please, please,” he continued, shamelessly bucking his hips against nothing.

You released his cock and pulled your fingers out of his ass, cleaning the fluids against his panties.

“You’re so fuckin’ pathetic, begging like that,” you mocked him, retrieving your phone from the pocket of your shorts.

You snapped a couple of photos of him bent over the washing machine, pent up and debauched. His balls hung from the lace of your panties, and you made sure to zero on his tear stained face.

“So pretty, my pretty crybaby,” you cooed, helping him stand up again.

He fell on his knees, clutching the hem of your t-shirt.

“Please, you can’t leave me like this, I-, please,” he blabbered.

You committed the image to memory, knowing you’d see it again soon.

You could see it in his eyes how hooked he was to you.

“Baby, bad boys don’t get to cum, do they? You can’t go around stealing people’s laundry,” you tutted, lightly slapping his cheek, “You deserve some punishment, don’t you agree?”

He hesitantly nodded, slumping down on his shins. You grasped his chin, tilting his head up to meet his gaze.

“You got to bed now, no touching, and I’ll see you tomorrow. I’ll know if you disobeyed, and trust me, you don’t want to know what’s gonna happen if you did.”

You smiled, and took a few steps back to retrieve your basket, leaving him to catch his breath on the floor.

“See you tomorrow at 4 pm, you know where my dorm is,” you chirped despite your own neglected arousal, sauntering to the door, “Get dressed before someone comes in, you wouldn’t want to see how much of a pervert you are, right?”

He shook his head, agreeing with you despite the sobs that silently shook through his body.

“Good boy,” you purred, hand twisting the knob. You paused, and threw him a look over yourself, “Oh, and thank you for the laundry.”

I hope you liked this! Please leave some feedback if you can! ❤️

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

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kiwibirbs-library · 3 years

Text

Nightmares

a/n: so like.. uhh... how’s your day? Cause mine said work and think of this babe the whole time. Oh you too? Cool cool.

YALL THIS IS AFTER I WROTE THIS ITS SO LONG OMG OK I NEED TO GO READ THROUGH WOW

Pairing: Keith kogane x reader

Warning: uhh nightmares ya ya that. That’s it

Summary: you get nightmares, fairly bad done at that. And one night you just can’t do it anymore and go to the nearest occupied room. And suddenly it becomes a tradition.

You were rescued from a prison break. The only thing that made you special was that your entire planet was massacred and you had absolutely nowhere to go.

That was almost 6 months ago.

That’s how you ended up where you are now. In a near empty room of the castle, trying to fall back asleep. This was the fifth time you had a nightmare this week. This was the fifth time you had had to relive the vivid torture. The fifth time you’ve been curled up in a ball, tears streaming, trying to just breath through it.

After about 10 minutes you sat up. You couldn’t keep doing this. You couldn’t keep going off of two hours of sleep. You really couldn’t keep hearing Shiros ‘you ok?’ Every morning when you showed up looking like the living dead.

You grabbed your blanket and wrapped it around yourself before waking to the door. The faded walking lights were enough to keep you from hitting anything as you stopped at the nearest door. Hopefully it was someone who could help you. Just to talk to if you could. In other words— as much as you enjoy him— not Lance. You gulped as you knocked on the door. You weren’t expecting it to open as soon as it did.

Keith stood in the open door way, rubbing an eyes slightly as his vision adjusted to see you clearly.

“Y/n?” His voice was raspy from not talking for a while.

“Um hi,” your voice broke in the middle. His brows furrowed as he noticed your stained cheeks and red nose.

“Are you ok?” He squinted at you a bit, still not completely able to see you.

“Uh actually could I um... stay here for a bit.... please,” it all came out whimpery and cracked. You felt kind of pathetic. You half expected him to tell you where Shiro was and go back to sleep with how long he took to respond. But no. He backed up a bit and gave you room to come in. You smiled a little up to him and shuffled in. He sat on his bed and watched you slightly as you made your way down to the floor.

He didn’t exactly know why but he didn’t like the idea of you laying there. It was clean sure, and he definitely would have let anyone else sleep there, but he couldn’t in good conscious just leave you there. Especially with how red and wet your face was when you passed him. He cleared his throat a bit and you looked up at him from your spot. He patted the mattress beside him and you got the idea, getting up and sitting next to him.

“So... what’s wrong?” He looked at your hands as they twisted into each other. You bit your lip.

“Um well, lately I’ve been having these.. um... nightmares. There of the time in the prison. And the um... things that happened,” you gulped. There was a slight pause.

“You don’t have to force yourself to talk if you can’t,” Keith sighed a bit. You looked over to him to find a surprising look of worry on his face. You were taken aback by how understanding he looked. From what you knew of him he was that loner of the group, the one that didn’t talk much and did his own thing, only worrying about himself (and Shiro as you observed). But sitting next to you wasn’t someone that didn’t know feelings of others. It was more like someone who could understand what was happening with you.

“I get nightmares too you know. Of course I’ve never been tortured like you or Shiro were, but they still get to me pretty bad,” he said bluntly, leaning back on his hands. You sighed and brought you knees to your chest, a tired look in your eyes. “You can go to sleep if you want, it would be good for you,” he said without looking at you.

“Thank you,” you smiled a little. “You know, your a lot nicer than I thought you would be one on one,” you laid down slowly.

“I’ll take that as a complement?” His words had the slightest sound of amusement with them. It brought a calming blanket down on you.

In no time your were completely knocked out, Keith leaning up against the wall, also falling asleep as he made sure you didn’t wake up.

~~~~

There was a vibrating from under your head, waking you up. You weren’t fully awake as you felt the air on your skin without opening your eyes. You felt something come underneath the pillow and stop the movement before leaving. Your brows furrowed slightly as you moved even closer to wherever the thing had come from. Without moving much you hit something, immediately running a hand down the back of it before falling back to sleep.

Keith was also awakened by a vibrating. More than you obviously as this was his alarm every morning. So when he turned it off to keep you to sleep and you moved closer he very much noticed. And then your hand ran down his back and made him shiver. He was a blushing mess. He couldn’t even say anything as you stuffed your face into his chest and stayed asleep. Without even knowing it he was smiling at you, moving some hair from your face before he thought about it. You pushed yourself forward a little more, turning him onto his back as you used him as a body pillow. For the first time in a while he had to hold back a laugh at the movement.

You both stayed like that for almost an hour before you groggily got up finally. When you saw the position you immediately started apologizing for what happened. He waved you off, his normal stern face back as he sat up and met you in the middle of the room.

“Calm down its fine, I don’t really care. Anyways we should leave, we’re about to have the morning meeting,” as if the castle could hear him the intercom turned on with a loud beep and Alluras voice came on.

“Meeting time! Hunk made food as well,” and she was gone. You smiled at the idea of Hunks cooking.

“Oh shoot I need to change,” you looked down to your pajamas.

“Meh Lance Never does don’t worry about it,” in truth Keith was just stalling to continue seeing you in them. He really didn’t understand why but he liked the sight. You both left his room before walking the halls to kitchen. Mostly everyone was there, the only one not was Lance unsurprisingly. You waved a bit as you took a seat next to Pidge, Keith to you. They looked at you both with a smile before going back into their talk about something technical.

You tried to listen as you ate but your thoughts drifted to the night before and this morning. A light pink hit your face at the thought. You smiled a little as you put the spoon to you mouth.

~~~~

These sleepovers quickly became something usual. In some instances you wouldn’t even go back to your room, just straight to his with him. At one point he told you to bring some clothes over to change so now you had your little pile in the corner of dresses and shirts. The most awkward part of it would have to when you both began cuddling consciously. You felt hot as Keith put a very hesitant arm on you, his constant ‘is this ok?’s making you laugh a bit.

You didn’t know when but at some point you started taking the sessions in for more. You would always smile at the thought of Keith. Your eyes would always wonder the room in search of him. If the found his you would gaze for a moment before looking away.

Keith knew exactly when he took after hours for more. He knew exactly what he was doing when went to his room at the end of the night, waiting impatiently for you to show up. He knew exactly what he wanted when he asked you to bring some clothes over, his idea for you to spend more time there working amazingly.

The day you got found out though was the most embarrassing moment of your life. Even worse than Pidge calling you out for staring at the boy. For one thing you were more tired than usual that morning due to training the previous day. So while reaching for a pair of leggings you missed and grabbed Keith’s spare sweatpants. Honestly you didn’t even think about how big they were as you threw on your jacket and left. Keith had left before you to meet with Shiro so you were alone and the first in the breakfast hall. By the time you stood up everyone was there as well. Keith’s hand flew to his face to hide the bright red that flushed his face when he noticed. He wasn’t going to say anything, he didn’t really want to. He would have to resist the urge to hide your normal pjs in favor of you wearing his for the next week.

“Aren’t those a little big on you?” Pidge commented.

“Huh?” You looked down and blushed a bit at the clothing. “O-oh ya, haha. Um i saw them at the mall we went to the other day and picked them up,” you coughed.

“Wow really those look like what Keith was wea—“ Lances mouth was covered and his head was dragged down by Keith’s arms. Everyone looked between you two with skeptical look before you slip out the door with a ‘well then’.

That was the catalyst of Lance following Keith to his room and hour later. He was droning on about something when Keith stopped in front of his door. He never had time to clean up this morning. Your clothes were probably still scattered in different areas. He cleared his throat.

“What?” He looked to Lance you was waiting patiently for the door to open.

“Oh I wanted to see what your room looked like. I’m bored and have nothing to do today,” he gave a dramatic sigh. Keith blocked the door.

“No.”

“Whaaat?? Why nooooott? How long have we known each other? Shouldn’t we have more trust????” Lance whined. “Besides whaaat Y/n in here the other day?”

“No,” Keith stayed. Then you came down the hall. You had went to your room in search of a pair of pants before realizing they were still sitting on the edge of Keith’s dresser. Maybe your other jacket was still on his bed if you were lucky. When you saw Lance you made a turn to leave the way you came too late.

“Y/n?” Lance called. You stopped and turned back to him.

“Hey Lance, what’s up?” You smiled a bit and walked a little closer. Keith was happy to hear your voice but also bit his lip at the predicament. You were probably looking for your favorite leggings. The ones you left here the other night. Bad timing.

“Oh I was wanting to see inside Keith’s room! What about you?” You continued talking to Lance, at one point giving Keith a side glance to say to go in. He quickly slipped into his room and started picking up your things and hastily putting it places, most went under his bed. In all honesty he didn’t mind too much about everyone finding out about your sleepovers. He did mind however about the teasing that would come with it.

The door clicked and slid open, Lance walked in with a nervous you glancing around after him.

“Wow it’s so boring in here,” Lance sighed, draping himself over on top of you. “There’s nothing in here how do you live like thi—“ he stopped when he looked over the floor. He saw something light blue poking out from under the bed. Keith tensed when lance moved it out with his foot. The jacket dragged out a few more clothes with it, all definitely not Keith’s and very obviously yours.

“Y/n did you know your clothes are— OH MY GOD NO WAY!!” He jumped away from you and looked between you and the mullet boy. “YOU TWO ARE A THINGGG??”

“No no we’re not!” You held up your hands and tried to explain. You missed Keith’s small and inaudible ’yet’.

“Then why are your clothes here? Are there more?!” Lance asked, gesturing to the small pile on the floor.

“Um well, sleepovers?” You rubbed your hands together. Lance turned to Keith.

“What does that mean?”

“Well what do you think a sleepover means? Honestly,” he crossed his arms. Lance turned back to you.

“How many times??”

“Ah ha ha um... multiple?” You looked over to Keith to find he was already watching you. You whipped back to Lance. As if the universe told you you weren’t getting out of this easy, Pidge and Hunk passed by the open door. They peered in a you heard a little laugh.

“He finally figured it out? Hah we knew weeks ago,” the small girl laughed a little, pushing her glasses up.

“You two knew?!!!” Lance whined as he left the room to join those two in the hall. Keith, quicker than you would have thought, moved and pressed a button to close and lock the door. You heard a muffled ‘hey’ before footsteps that eventually faded away. He sighed. You gave a little laugh.

“That your first choice in hiding?” You giggled.

“Shut up,” he gave you a smile and a glance before flopping down on his bed with a groan. “This is why no one comes in here.”

“Aww I feel so special,” you giggled again as you climbed on top of him. You laid you head down as he dragged you completely on top of him. “By the way, about what Lance said.” Keith looked down to you. “What are we anyway?”

“Well, I’d prefer the privileges of boyfriend all the time. But if you wouldn’t then I don’t mind waiting,” you put yourself up on your arms at his directness.

“What?”

“What?” He repeated.

“Aren’t you supposed to be the closed off feelings guy? What was that?” You look at him bewildered.

“I will not hesitate to leave you here alone,” he gave you a playful glare. “Answer my sentence though.”

“What?”

“Do I get privileges?”

“I wouldn’t mind,” you looked away before sitting up fully. “You get to tell everyone though,” you smiled a bit.

“Ugh why,” he groaned and put his head to the side. His hands naturally rested on your hips. You both had been doing this so long you never even took it as something weird with the way you straddled him. You laughed a bit at him when he pinched your sides a bit.

“Deal?”

“Deal,” he smiled before pulling you a little closer and finally doing what he had been wanting to for the past month, finally kissing you.

#voltron #keith kogane #keith kogane x reader #Keith x reader #lance #Pidge #hunk #shiro #Allura #Coran #team voltron #voltron fanfiction

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draco-and-tom · 4 years

Text

School Girl- George Weasley

✰ WARNINGS- unprotected sex, thigh riding, Dom!George, Nicknames, Skirt Kink, Marking Kink

You and George have been dating for 8 months now. It’s been almost a month since Fred and George left you alone at Hogwarts. They had asked you to come with, but you knew you wanted to graduate first. It’s not like you thought it would be easy, but you never thought it would be so hard to not see George. You went from seeing your boyfriend, and your best friend, to not seeing them at all for a month and it honestly hurt you more than you would ever admit. You got up from your bed and rubbed your eyes, walking over to your dresser. You pulled out your button shirt, tie, robes, and…..damnit. You had just worn your skirt yesterday, but it was too hot to wear your pants. You shrug and get out your skirt from last year, sure you had grown a little but it would be all right. You start changing and can't stop the grin that you get when you think about the trip to Hogsmeade. You finally got to see the twins and you were sure that there was nothing that could ruin the day for you. You walked over to the mirror and adjusted the skirt that was now around your waist. You knew you would be fine, it was only a few inches shorter, plus Hogwarts thankfully doesn't have much of a dress code. You pull on your shoes and walk out of your room. Walking down the hall alone was honestly peaceful at Hogwarts. The sound of your steady breathing and the tap of your shoes always have a calming effect. You tend to wake up earlier so that you can get the good food from the great hall before it’s all gone. You enter the great hall and sit down beside your friend Alica. “Damn y/n nice skirt” she laughed “You trying to get laid?”

✫✫✫✫✫✫✫✫✫✫✫✫✫✫✫✫✫✫✫✫Arriving in Hogsmeade✫✫✫✫✫✫✫✫✫✫✫✫✫✫✫✫✫✫✫✫✫✫✫✫ “See you later” you shout to your friends as you walk away. They wanted you to come to The Three Broomsticks with them for a glass of butterbeer, but they knew how you are about George and didn’t bother after your first answer. You lightly jog over to the joke shop about two stores away from you and run through the doorway, ringing the bell above it as you enter. “Welcome to Weasley’s-” George stopped talking when he lifted his head from the product he was gently setting on a display. “Y/N?! You didn't tell me it was a Hogsmeade weekend!” he said smiling, practically from ear to ear. God did he miss you. “Surprise!” you laughed and ran up to your boyfriend. You hugged him tightly before kissing him on the lips. “Woah there Y/N. I'm supposed to be greeting you not the other way around” he jokes and gives you a peck on the cheek. You roll your eyes and let go of him, taking off your school robes. As you turn around to set it on the chair George notices the difference in your skirt and goes a little stiff, trying not to be aroused by something as simple as a skirt. George knew he had a thing for skirts, and hated the fact that he did. That’s the only plus of not seeing you all the time, apparently you liked your little skirts. This time, however, it was different. That skirt was pretty short, not showing anything inappropriate, but showing him more of your thighs. Sometimes he wished he could fuck you in one of those pretty little skirts, but god this time he could barely force himself not to fuck you right there. “You okay?” you ask and look at him with concern once you notice George staring at your thighs and stand almost completely still which was reallyyy weird for a Weasley twin. George couldn’t stay still to save his life to be completely honest. George cleared his throat, looking you up and down. You blushed, you knew George got turned on by you sometimes but you’ve never done anything with him other than make out. “Yeah just….thinking,” he said and turned back to the display. “Hey Y/N? Can I show you something upstairs?” he asked, turning back to look at you. You nod and stand up, walking up the stairs with your boyfriend. “Oh hey Freddie!” you say as he passes you on your way up the stairs “Good to see you Y/L/N”. You smile and nod before reaching their flat. George gestures to his room and you oblige, walking inside. As soon as you pass the threshold he slams the door shut and pushes you against it. George’s arms were on either side of your head, making it practically impossible to move, even though you had no intention of doing so. You let out a small whimper from all of the sudden movement. He ignores your sounds and gets closer to your face “Why the hell are you wearing that fucking skirt” he asks, lips barely touching yours. You felt your legs buckle slightly beneath you at his words. You didn’t think the skirt would have that much on an impact, but it’s not like you were complaining. George’s left-hand moves to your hip, helping you stand back up straight. “Answer me!” he said making you bite your lip. You didn't want to disobey, but you didn't feel like you could speak. He’s never been this forward on sexual stuff and it was making the pool between your legs grow by the second. “Fine” he responds to your silence, almost whispering “I’ll just have to ask nicer”. George moves his face over to your ear and whispers “Why did you wear that skirt darling?” he moves one of his hands to play with the end of it, fingers lightly grazing your thigh. “Because all I want to do right now-” he paused to nip your ear lobe “ is fuck you in your tight little hole”. You squeezed your eyes shut and let out a whimper for him to hear. “My other skirt was dirty” you explained, trying your best to focus despite your arousal. You opened your eyes to see George roll his eyes “And?!” He whisper-yelled “I’ve been around Hogwarts long enough to know that they allow pants kitten” he started to gently nip at your neck, sadly too light to leave any marks. “It’s too hot” you squirm under his touch. You could feel the ginger smile against your skin. “Want more huh?” he asked, noticing your reaction to his teasing. You moaned out and nodded. You didn’t know why you were being so honest, you don't normally give in to stuff this easily, but you couldn’t help it. George groaned at your response and started sucking harshly on your neck. You reached out and grabbed his upper arm, needing something to squeeze. Once the realization came over you that everyone was going to know what George was doing to you, you became more aroused and it was almost painful not to moan with every new mark he made on you. He pulled back and admired his work “hmm” he hummed and nodded “look how weak you are….I've barely even touched you”. He smirked “guess now I know my baby girl has a thing for marks” he paused and made a face of consideration before speaking “or maybe she just knows that now everyone knows she’s mine” he whispered, leaning into your ear “tell me...do you want everyone to know how good I make you feel? Or do you just want to brag about whose cock you took like a good girl” you moaned and the boy observed in silence “oh. How silly of me, I forgot that it's both” he chuckled in a low voice. George honestly felt too turned on with the way you reacted to his words. You were practically begging him for more. “Need help with your situation love?” George asked and you nodded eagerly. He wrapped his hands around the back of your thigh to lift it, but when he touched you he felt the thin lines of liquid running down your thighs and moaned “Fuck. All this for me?” he asked, rubbing your thigh “only you.” you moaned out and he groaned. George continued to lift your thigh and put his knee between your legs. You looked down at noticed the obvious bulge in his pants. “But I want you” you whined and he nodded “I know. You better be glad I'm giving you anything at all” you whimpered in agreement as George pulled your white panties for you. “Who gave you permission to wear something so pure?” he chuckled “trying to play innocent?” he asked and brought his knee back up to your throbbing pussy. “You can help yourself now kitten,” he said and you quickly gave in. You started to grind your pussy against his clothed thigh, trying to get the perfect angle on your clit. “OH” you whined when George pushed you harder against the door, taking matters into his own hands. George gripped your hips tightly and rubbed his thigh perfectly against you. George was grunting “good girl. Keep whining, I love seeing you make such a pretty mess all over me.” After a few seconds, you could feel the pressure in your stomach tighten and knew you were so close. You didn’t even need to tell George, he could tell be the broken whimpers and praises of his name. Suddenly you felt yourself cum and George helped you come down from your high. George pulls away from you and starts to take off his jumper and trousers. “I don't know if I ca-” he cuts you off “you’ll take my cock like a good girl kitten. You’ll cum as many times as I say”. You moaned as he walked over to you. George was completely naked by this point. George had your lip quivering with desire once you saw how hard he was, It looked smaller in his pants. He nipped down in your neck making more marks, “Finally get to fuck your pretty little hole in this damn skirt.” he growled out as he slid his cock through your folds before sliding in. You and George both struggle to fight back loud moans when he starts thrusting. His pace starts out average before he loses control and pounds into you deep and hard. George grabs your leg and pulls it over his shoulder “George” you moan loudly as every thrust hits all the right spots. “Close baby?” he asks panting and you nod “me too”. You could tell he was going to cum soon and it was obvious you would too. His thrusts became faster and more sloppy, and your walls were clenching around him before you knew it. George thrust a few more times before cumming deep inside of you. George pulled out of you and tried to catch his breath. “And I thought Quidditch gave me a workout….damn skirt”

TAG-LIST- @georgeswh0re (comment request to be added)

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taeescript · 3 years

Text

29+1 (Part One)

𝔰𝔶𝔫𝔬𝔭𝔰𝔦𝔰: In which Seokjin is the Devil from The Devil Wears Prada, Taehyung is your work Jesus and Jimin is your handsome successful brother.

𝔭𝔞𝔦𝔯𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔰: seokjin x reader (taehyung x reader if you squint real hard)

𝔤𝔢𝔫𝔯𝔢: slice of life; ceo!seokjin (diva!seokjin)

𝔴𝔠: 3.6k

𝔴𝔞𝔯𝔫𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔰: heavy use of alcohol as a coping mechanism, a plethora of sarcasm (please don’t be offended) and a sprinkle of softness (is that a warning?).

𝔞/𝔫: this sat in my unwritten folder since 2017 no lie. I wrote the premise and a singular paragraph at that time, then just gave up. I opened it a few days ago, got inspired again and this word vomit came out (heavily influenced by a midnight Zoom call with my friends). Ngl this was so much fun to write, and I hope you all enjoy it as much as I did. This will probably be in three parts. 𝔡𝔦𝔰𝔠𝔩𝔞𝔦𝔪𝔢𝔯: I did not know that DailyHive is an actual online news source when writing. This work is purely fictional and has absolutely nothing to do with the real DailyHive.

part two

Your friends have a saying: After 29, nobody shares their age until they’ve accomplished something.

In the past, you didn’t understand it. What’s so bad about saying you’re 30 or you’re 32? That’s still a young age! Sure, you’re not exactly in your prime anymore but you’re not old, right?

So, you continue in your own wondrous world of naïveté until that fateful day at your class reunion. You had simply been walking around, minding your own business when you had been stopped by an old colleague.

“Hey, Y/N, right?” she waves you down.

You smile kindly, not even bothering to try and remember her name (you sucked at names, what could you say).

“Hey…you!” you chuckle lightly, “How have you been doing?”

An everyday question leading to catastrophic effects.

“Oh you know,” she says and rolls her eyes as if you truly did know, “I’ve just been out and about. Did I tell you though? I got married last year!” She holds out her hand in which a giant diamond adorns her finger. “Wow!” you gasp, feigning interest. It’s not that you aren’t happy for her, but you are reminded of just how single you are currently. When was the last time you felt another human’s touch? Does kissing come back as easily as riding a bicycle? “Hey!” she says suddenly, “I’m actually meeting with a couple of friends from our class. You should come join! I’m sure they’d be happy to see you again!” You want to wave her off, but against your better judgment, you find yourself following in her footsteps and listening to her speak about wedding venues and honeymoon destinations.

“Oh my god!” another female voice filters in.

The “couple of friends” this old classmate had mentioned is in fact a fairly impressive size of twenty. This is also the third time the wedding announcement has been made.

“Last year?” the female continues, “Weren’t you young?”

Yes, you want to respond. Yes she was young. A full 365 days younger than she is now.

Your classmate, Sooyoung (or Kiko as she insists going by now) titters in front of you. “I mean, you can sort of say I’m a late bloomer. I got married when I was 31.”

Her words unintentionally cut into you. Here you are at 29 without a beau in sight. You take a fast swig of your beer and end up hitting the empty glass with a clink to your teeth. Nobody notices.

“Enough about me, however, how about you?”

“I started my own business actually. It’s been doing really well and it’s been a crazy mind. Imagine me, my own boss at only 33!”

You nervously join them when they suddenly laugh together.

“Hi, can I get another pint please? Actually add a tequila shot to that,” you whisper the last part to the waitress you had just stopped.

And that was how the rest of the night went. People asking one another what they had accomplished. Any moment in time after 30 would not be mentioned until somebody travelled to Uganda to build houses at 31 or another gave birth at the same age. Below 30, anything would be attributed to luck or in your case…

“What are you doing currently?” somebody asks you, “The little baby of our class.”

Swallowing your third tequila shot of the night, you wonder for the umpteenth time how you had become a part of this giant sharing circle. You wonder if it’s a blessing or a curse that you had graduated a little early and thus was younger than most of your peers.

“Well,” you start, “I’m currently working at DailyHive.”

“Ohh!” a man gushes. You recognize him as the once-upon-a-time science partner you used to cheat notes off of. “I use DailyHive nearly as much as Instagram these days. You guys cover everything from news to sports to fashion.”

You shrug. “Yeah. It’s, uh… it’s a pretty big company!”

“What are you doing there?”

Kiko-ex-Sooyoung hits the man teasingly on the shoulder. “Y/N is probably the Director of Marketing or something. Remember how she used to spend all class doodling in her notebook?”

“Or sleeping!” someone quips.

You don’t join in when they all laugh.

“I’m…an intern,” you say with as much pride as you can in a group of established professionals ranging from dermatologists to that one guy who had flown around the world as a TedTalk guest speaker.

A hushed silence befalls everyone.

“That’s…cool!” the same man encourages you, “Interns are totally rad! Everyone wants an intern spot these days.”

His girlfriend pats your arm, almost empathetically. “Yeah. I know a bunch of people who first start off as interns and then they shoot up the ladder quick enough. As long as you’re no longer an intern at 30, you’re golden!”

Once again, the entire group laughs as if she has said the most hilarious of jokes.

She composes herself and says to you, “Because after that, you should have accomplished something.”

Her words still ring in your ears as you sit at your desk this morning.

Yeah…something. All you need to do is accomplish something in the next three months before you are officially, 29 + 1.

Your fingers tap against your thighs silently while you observe the current debate that is occurring in the conference room. You barely have time to sweep the falling hair back behind your ear as your fingers ferociously fly across the keyboard to keep in track with the meeting.

Fei is arguing that the implement of a new search word system would boost users while Daniel says that it is a waste of resources. Instead, everything should be put into updating the entire system as a whole. You have long since lost track of their words as neither pertain to what you do as an intern.

“Enough,” the CEO of DailyHive holds up a hand. His one word causes the entire room to hush over – truly, the words of a god.

And that might as well be what he is. With his hair swept back and a lone tendril curling perfectly above his brow, Kim Seokjin is legitimately a walking god. Off his broad shoulders hang an expensive white linen suit bought with his pocket change and your yearly salary. A pair of sunglasses hangs in the V of the collared shirt dipping low enough to blur the lines between being fashionably professional and just downright sexy.

The snap of his fingers brings you back to the present.

He dramatically rolls his eyes and accepts that you are an incompetent minute-taker.

“I have to remember that the world just doesn’t move as fast as I do.”

- Quote: Rolling Stones 2019 Kim Seokjin.

Now if only he’d remember he had once said that.

He points at each of them with one finger, then swipes to the left. “Both of you, solve this outside. I don’t want to hear your voices any longer. You two from the marketing team, Ungroomed Stache and Acne Chin, create me a report if we are to implement Ms. Song’s idea. The two of you from…” he takes a pause here clearly having forgotten who his employees are, “The two of you do the same thing but for Mr. Hwang.”

The pair from accounting open their mouth to protest that they are in charge of only numbers, but they are ignored.

“All of you out now. Except you,” he points his finger directly at you, “Stay.”

Nobody utters a single word until they have all left and you are left alone with him. Standing before him with your hands folded nicely in front of you, you blink and wait.

He stares right back at you, picks up his coffee mug and drops it. The clatter of ceramic smashing against the ground causes a pause in the loud buzz outside the room. You know everybody’s focus has been shifted into the room.

“Do you want to kill me?” he drawls.

You take a long inhale. “No,” you say.

“No?” he repeats the word, “Well I think you do. Did you check this coffee before you brought it to me? I tasted cinnamon in it. You know how I’m allergic to cinnamon. Get me a new cup. And this mess, get somebody to clean it. I don’t want the smell of coffee in this room when I have my next meeting here in twenty. I’m taking a smoke a break.”

He stands up and brushes past you without saying anything else.

Nobody can be allergic to cinnamon. Besides if he had actually tasted cinnamon and was that sensitive, he would be dead. And good riddance to that.

Of course, you say none of this and wordlessly begin to pick up the broken ceramic pieces of the dead mug. The bustling outside the meeting room has returned back to its normal state of chaos. Seeing the ugly stain of coffee on the once pristine carpet causes you to swear beneath your breath.

“Who the fuck is allergic to cinnamon?” a new voice says, sliding up beside you.

The second god in DailyHive; the much nicer and evidently preferred Kim; Taehyung takes the mug pieces from you and drops it into the garbage bin.

Blessed with not only intelligence but devilishly model-like features, he is your desk buddy in the small space allotted for interns and your sole friend in the company.

“Tae,” you sigh with exasperation upon seeing your lifesaver, “What am I going to do about this stain? He’s going to return in fifteen and there’s no way I can get a coffee stain out of this expensive-ass carpet.”

Taehyung taps a long finger to his lips, leaves the room briefly, and returns with a roll of Bounty sheets and a can of Febreze. He promptly blots as much of the coffee off from the carpet then proceeds to pull the meeting table.

“C’mon, Y/N, don’t just stand there. Help me! Time is of the essence!”

You laugh and join him in moving the table so that one of the legs cover the stain 80% of the way. Once he is satisfied, he takes the Febreze and sprays until the whole room smells like “Hawaiian Aloha”.

“You’re welcome.” He gives an extravagant bow, the motion popping open the top button of his shirt to expose a surprisingly chiseled chest.

Fei returns back into the room holding a phone to her ear and a clipboard in her left hand. “What the hell? It smells like a Bath & Body Works in here. Intern, aren’t you supposed to be filing or something? Stop standing around and be useful.” She grips Taehyung’s arm and drags him out of the room. “Button up. This is a professional workplace.”

You give him a tiny wave as Taehyung is steered away by his girlfriend and back to the cubicles.

Taehyung may be your saviour at work, but outside, it cannot be denied that your brother is the true Fountain of Life.

A week has passed since the coffee incident (you suspect a cleaning personnel had found the stain and cleaned up after your improv as aforementioned stain can no longer be found), but Jimin still brings it up.

“I still can’t believe that he said he was allergic to cinnamon. I’ve never heard of such bullshit before,” your brother says over the phone. You can practically hear his eyeroll from across the world.

As a renowned ophthalmologist, you have not seen Jimin for close to a year as he has been initiating his new clinic, a flying eye hospital.

“You should hear his Starbucks order. I always feel like I’m ready to launch my next EP whenever I’m at the counter,” you say.

Jimin laughs. There is the muffled sounds of voices as his never-ending flow of patients have arrived for the day.

“I shouldn’t keep you,” you say upon hearing that, “You’re probably really busy.”

“No,” he says, “I’ve got a few minutes if you’ve got a few. I miss talking to my baby sister.”

“I’m not a baby anymore, Jiminie,” you say using the nickname he hated.

“Oh that’s right. Your birthday’s in a little under three months, right? My baby sister is turning the big three-oh.”

“God, don’t remind me.”

“Want me to come visit you?”

You contemplate the idea once, having not seen Jimin in quite a while.

“Only if you have time. But I feel like Mom and Dad would probably want to see you more. Speaking of which, um… How are Mom and Dad?”

“They’re good. I hear Dad is finally going to retire this year. He’s giving his practice to Kibum, you remember him? Mom will probably start pestering us about what to do for his retirement party.”

There is a pause.

“You know, it wouldn’t hurt to say hi to them once in a while.”

You sigh. “And say what? Hey, it’s me. The child that ran away from home at 18? Yeah, I’m not a doctor like everybody else in the family but a 29 year old intern at a popular app company. Whassuuup?”

“Y/N, that’s not what I – ”

“It’s okay, Jimin. I’ve come to accept that not everybody is cut out to be a doctor. I just wish Mom and Dad could realize that.”

Jimin sighs on your behalf. There is the sound of a crying child coming through the earphone. “Well, your contract expires a few weeks after your birthday, right? Who knows, you might be the next Mark Zuckerberg.”

He has never explicitly inquired about your life plan and you know this is as much as he is willing to push without asking, “What’s next after this intern hiccup?” At least he had the decency to compare you to a controversial Internet entrepreneur.

The child is crying much louder now.

“Again with my birthday. But I’ll let you know,” is the only reply you can come up with at the moment. “Okay, brother, go forth and heal the blind. I bless thee in the name of the Holy Spirit, Son and Ghost.”

There is true laughter that rings from Jimin as he ends the call. “It’s Father, Son and Holy Ghost you dweeb. I love you sis.”

“You too.” You hang up first before he can add anything else.

With that, you enter into the 7am Starbucks queue and prepare yourself in running the first single of your long overdue EP.

Seokjin leans back in his chair, watching you from inside his office. Today he has chosen a black turtleneck and a brazen maroon-nearly purple suit jacket to complete the outfit. For once, there is an empty mug of coffee beside him and his morning headache has been appeased.

He knew he had given you an impossible task.

“Compile all the troubleshooting errors we have received since the launch of DailyHive. Organize it in a manner that allows me to identify the most prominent problem. Run it through whomever you please before giving it to me. I don’t need to waste my time correcting your mistakes.”

There is an amused smile that bubbles beneath his otherwise stoic features. He cannot deny that there is, might he dare say, a cute quality about you as you manually scan through the received concerns on your laptop dating back to the initial beta tests – the ones that were lost in a data crash and only backed up with unintelligible scribblings of previous interns.

The moment you had been introduced as the new intern, you had caught his eye. You are exquisitely mundane, and perhaps the reason you had even caught him the first time was due to solely to the fact that you were older than most interns – himself even. Nevertheless, you continue to present him small surprises in your tenacity and capability to tackle challenges.

“Mr. Kim.”

His intercom comes alive with the voice of his secretary.

Seokjin’s eyes do not leave you as he answers.

“Mr. Hwang is on line two. Would you like me to defer him to a later time if you are currently busy?”

Seokjin cannot help but sigh. Hwang Junho, his co-founder, while a genius in international business is also a notorious chatterbox and gossip. There is seldom a reason for Junho to call him except to relay the cover titles of E!Magazine.

“Did he mention a reason for calling?” Seokjin inquires.

His secretary seems to be reading from a note. “He says it’s to do with the company. Something he read from Cosmopolitan this morning.”

So not E! but another sister celebrity gossip blog. He checks his watch and duly notes that he certainly has no meetings scheduled until later in the afternoon where your report would be needed to run a preliminary analysis.

“Sir?”

“Yes, put him through. But tell him I’ve got only five minutes, so he’s better give me the Cliffnotes version,” Seokjin sighs again.

Before he can be connected, Seokjin quickly says, “What’s the name of that intern again?”

“Who?” his secretary asks, “We’ve hired four since the beginning of the year.”

“The one who keeps wanting to poison me.”

“I’m sorry, Sir?” she sounds concerned.

“The one who keeps forgetting that I despise cinnamon.”

There is no response.

“The older one. Spilled coffee a while ago but still has enough coordination to pull together a decent report.”

“Ah,” she says.

He waits patiently as she searches through the database, eventually giving him your name. He gives a slight pause and then says, “Good. Now patch me with Junho.”

There is a momentary buzz as the call becomes connected in which Seokjin turns over the syllables of your name wordlessly.

“Mr. Kim. The man of the hour. How are you, my brother?” Junho’s baritone fills the office in a manner of seconds.

Despite the little annoying quirks, Seokjin cannot help but smile when hearing the voice of his best friend.

“You’ve got three minutes, Junho.”

Junho grumbles. “That’s not my fault. You were the one still on the line with your secretary. Is it still Yerin? ‘Cuz I won’t blame you if that’s the case. Did I catch you doing some naughty phone sex during office hours?”

“Two.”

“Holy hell. Fine. It’s always business with you. That’s why the tabloids are always writing you as an uptight asshole.”

This shifts Seokjin’s attention to the phone. His name is seldomly mentioned except for the features in business columns. He prefers to stay out of the limelight.

“What?”

“Put your name on Google.”

Seokjin does as he is told.

There are millions of results, but the first few pages share the same headline. He clicks on the first one with a grimace.

“Kim Seokjin. Mr. Worldwide Handsome as noted by his fans, has recently sparked Internet outrage.”

A quick skim of the otherwise trashy article brought to the surface a summary: his last dating scandal had ended badly and the repercussions of blowing off a famous celebrity’s daughter had finally caught up with him. The Internet was calling him arrogant, narrow-minded, and even greedy. “The young Chief Executive Officer of booming social media app DailyHive has been accused of using his relationship with actress XYZ to further his own business. Once he gained recognition from aforementioned relationship, he has cold-heartedly cast her away to pursue his next.” “You’re calling me for this bullshit?” Seokjin scoffs. Junho tuts his tongue loudly. “This is not bullshit. It’s affecting the image of your company. Do you think people want to download and support an app that is run by somebody who is being called cruel and dishonest? You’ve got to address this soon before it gets out of control. You’re lucky I have alerts set for these type of things. I caught it for you just in the nick of time.” Seokjin inhales deeply. “You’re also lucky that I’ve got the perfect solution in mind.” “That is?” “The Silver Gala,” Junho references the prestigious event. The Silver Gala is hosted annually and attended by the largest celebrities as well as other wealthy investors and guests. Those in the social circle shared between Seokjin and Junho often yearned for tickets to attend events such as this, as they serve as excellent networking opportunities. Besides the above, such events are circled by reporters and writers of gossip columns to get the exclusive scoop on any eyebrow-raising rumours. “The solution lies in such an event,” Junho continues, “You know how many people will be there. All you’ve got to do is show up with your average girl-next-door type and it’ll show how you’re actually really humble and down to earth. Kim Seokjin is perfectly capable of dating like any regular human being. He doesn’t use “love” or whatever to further his business. Love is the connection between two souls; two individuals who – ” “Beep. Your time has run out Junho. I’ve got another meeting scheduled right this moment,” Seokjin interrupts. “Dude, seriously. Think about it. You could bring Yerin. Everbody loves a good CEO and his secretary affair. And if that’s too juicy for you, I can introduce you to some girls. Or maybe we could go back to our university days and hit a bar, y’know?” Junho tries his best to persuade. “Fuck!” you swear beneath your breath right as you walk into Kim Seokjin’s office. His door had been open and, in your excitement to show your completed report, you had dropped all the loose papers on the ground. Four hours of organization gone, just like that. You hope that at least Seokjin hasn’t heard or noticed you as he had been engrossed in his phone call. Seokjin had in fact noticed you. He can’t help himself but follow the curvature of your bare shoulder as your bangs escape the hold of your scrunchie and sweep across your skin. “Don’t worry, Junho, I’ve just thought about it,” he says with a smile.

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