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dckweed · 2 years

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hey!! could you please write a hopper x reader smut fic where he is a service dom and the reader is incredibly needy. Age gap if you are comfortable, i was thinking along the lines of the reader is needy at the most inconvenient times but Hopper is a giver hehe. If not, totally fine :) thank you

you got it bby!! pls im a living breathing age gap rn, my soon to be husband is 43 next month and im 23 in September! i quite fondly love to write them as well (within legal age limits ofc!), though im not too versed in what a service dom is but I think i pretty much get the gist of it..

not gonna lie im actually hecka excited for this, this is my first smut fic ive written in so so long, and it's right off the top of my head too bc bet ive been getting my horny ideas gathered all day from the deep dark depths of tumblr-whorism (please, don't act like y'all aren't little sluts for this site). this is actually so long holy shit and definitely not my greatest but better then i was actually expecting it to be.

warnings: age gap reader ( legal age) x dom!Jim Hopper, rough sex, spanking, maybe some choking in there, definite unprotected sex (pls don't go without a condom folks, unless you're actually wanting a child, this is strictly for fictional pleasure purposes only), cream pie, cheerleader kink? is that a thing? semi-public sex..maybe some size kink? maybe thicc reader bc as a curvy girl, ive noticed there's no curvy girl reader fics for him out here. squirting.

anywhore, i present you with:

'ALWAYS SO FUCKIN' NEEDY BABYGIRL..' jim hopper x female reader

Now look, your previous lovers wouldn't have called you an overly needy individual, some would have even called you lame (and it was entirely their fault for not knowing how to fucking handle you), but if there was one thing you knew for certain it was that Jim Hopper would have absolutely everything to say against their statements. God, you knew he thought you were fucking annoying half the time, you and your needy fucking cunt begging for him at the most inopportune times, but what could you say? Something about Hop just fucking brought out the whore in you. Maybe it was the authority that swelled off of him in waves, maybe it was the way that he was so much bigger than you, and anyone you'd ever been with or maybe it was the excitement of how much older than you he was, or the thrill of not getting caught. You couldnt pin it down, nor did you really want to. You loved what you had with Hopper, and honestly you think you're starting to fall in love with him too, not that you'd tell him that. But you'd like to think that he loved what you guys had too, despite how fucking needy you could be.

He wouldn't ever complain though, because really he loved it, he loved the way your begged for him, the way your pussy fit around him so fucking perfectly it was like a glove molded perfectly to fit him, to please him in anyway that he saw fit, and it never disappointed, and he always made sure his babygirl was fucked so good that it made her stupid, it was quite honestly one of his favorite pass times, he loved it, and he thought that he even loved you too, despite the age difference.

If he brought out the whore in you, you brought out the animal in him, and the animal was already thrashing against it's cage, ready to be released into the wild to claim what's his. He sat on the bleachers, he was plain clothed tonight, harder to recognize but not for you. Your eyes were drawn to him, no matter what sized crowd or what you were doing, and tonight, well, you couldn't look away from him, your eyes boring into him like the heat from a million fires, the same heat that you felt boiling in the pit of your groin .God, you thought, you really did get needy for him at the worst times.

It was the first football game of the season, and you were out on the field in the midst of your first halftime routine. Now that you were finally in your senior year, and now that you were finally eighteen, you had been made head cheerleader. You had taken the task to heart, updating some of your dances, changing your uniforms from the ill fitting sweaters to the cuter, cropped tops that hugged your torso perfectly but still left little to the imagination, hell you had even held a cheer camp over the summer (that hop had made every excuse to come visit), which included auditions. You had even gone so far as to ad the most muscular looking boys you could find as well, as bases for better stunts. You had plans this year, you wanted to win some competitions, put your names out there, and if you were being honest, you were pretty proud of your work.

It was evident in the way that you swayed your hips to the new beats of your guys' tracks, evident in the way that shit eating smirk slid across your face as you looked in the crowd over your shoulder, the one that clearly stated that you knew you were hot fucking shit. You could feel his eyes on you, following your every move, it only drove you to go harder, to make sure every step was perfect, every last beat until you finally finished in the air, one of your male bases holding you up, hands firmly gripping your foot and ankle on one leg as the other was stretched up by your head as you and the rest of the girls screamed 'GO TIGERS!' at the top of your lungs as you let your base pop you off, throwing you into the air before catching you.

"Your boyfriend is here." One of the girls, one of your friends, Susie, teases once you're all on the ground. You feel your face flush, okay, so maybe one person had caught you guys, but thankfully she wasn't dumb enough to go blabbing all over town. She snickered, rolling her eyes at you before turning you around and pushing your shoulder forward. "Go get him, I can smell the horny radiating off of you, I can handle the last of the routines."

You were going through make a noise of protest, but good heavens she was fucking right, you could practically feel your need for him dripping out of your cheer panties. You look for him in the crowd, but he's not in his spot. With a pout you put your hands on your hips, before quickly going off field and around the side of the stands, in the pale brightness of the stadium lights you find him slowly making his way towards the parking lot, his leather jacket a giveaway that it was him.

"Hop!" You call out, jogging to catch up to him, he stops, turns slightly to look at you. Your tits bouncing in all of their glory, your skirt bouncing too, showing off the shake of your thick thighs that he loved to bury himself between. You see his fist clench, and his throat move as if swallowing deeply. "I wasn't expecting to see you here..enjoy the show?" You ask, hopping onto his back.

Hop grunts at the action, his hands going immediately to your thighs to keep you from falling, holding back a groan at the way you squeezed him in response. He could have taken you right then and there, your little show had been more than enough for his cock to stiffen terribly, infact he was on his way to take care of it in his car, he thought you wouldn't notice him leave. "Sure did, babygirl." He says, continuing to walk a little bit, though this time he headed towards the school building. He had a feeling where this was going, and he couldn't risk it in the school parking lot. "Thought id come see you after how hard you worked all summer, glad I did."

You hummed, appreciative at the slight praise, leaning your chin on his shoulder. You breathed in his scent, and you couldn't help but squirm. Something about the way he smelled had always turned you on, and god, you were already turned on enough by him as it was. You wondered if he knew that, he always seemed to know, he could read your body like it was his favorite book. He squeezed your thighs, a silent warning to stop moving, the small action, the feel of the his large, rough hands on your bare skin cause a small whimper to escape your lips, right near his ear.

You felt him stiffen beneath you, his stride stuttering for the briefest second before continuing. "Are you such a fucking cock whore that you're needy for me in the middle of your halftime show? At your fucking school no less?" He asks quietly, his voice gruff. He knew you, he knew by the way you were staring at him in the bleachers, and he knew by the way you hummed at his praise, he knew that you fucking wanted him. And as he'd been learning since just a few weeks after your eighteenth birthday last Christmas, always at the most inappropriate times. Almost a whole year and he still couldn't get his fill of you, nor you him it always seemed. He wondered if he ought to do something special for you sometime..

You groan at his words, and as he swung open the side door of the school, near the locker rooms and a few classrooms, you felt yourself grow wetter. You knew, that per usual, you were about to get exactly what you wanted from your chief, and you couldn't fucking wait. Suddenly you felt a sharp sting on the bottom of your thigh, and you yiped. He had smacked it. "Answer me, babygirl, use your fucking words or ill take you right back out to that field, horny and frustrated and ill leave you like that until i decide you're worthy of the pleasure you want from me." He knew just what to say to get you going, just the right words to use, and just the right tone of voice.

You whimper at his voice, his words just barely echoing in the dark, empty halls of your school. "Yes, Jim," you groan out, trying not to grind against his back as you feel his muscles move underneath of you and his coat, giving you just the faintest hint of friction that you so desperately needed. "I'm such a needy fucking whore that I want you to fuck me dumb right here, in my school, during my show..please baby..please i need you.." you practically begged, your voice dripping with the want of your arousal.

As usual, hopper can't help but give in. He finds a classroom with the least amount of windows, facing away from the parking lots and the fields..dark, and once he gets the door open, he drops you from his back, pushing you in before closing the door.

His coat is off in an instant, dropped to the ground as he stalks towards you, trapping your short, curvy frame between him and the teachers desk with his large, muscular arms. You stared up at him, eyes wide and innocent looking, though he knew you of all people were the farthest thing from it.

He grabbed your face in one of his hands, the other sliding all the way down to your short skirted ass to grab a handful of the meaty flesh it was trying so desperately to adorn, as he pulled you in for a rough, heated kiss. You groaned, the stubble of his beard and mustache tickling your face, making you ache to feel it between your thighs, though you knew you didn't have time for that.

You reach down, your hands fumbling with the button of his jeans before you finally get it, unzipping and pushing the tight fabric down his thick, muscular thighs. You brushed your hand against his already raging hard on, your fingers hooking in the waist band of his underwear to push them down, sinking down to your knees with them. Or trying to anyway, Jim's hand goes straight to your neck, wrapping around it gently, but firmly as he pulls you right back up, damn near making you cream your self at the action.

You see him shake his head in the pale light the moon provides, and you pout. "No time, baby," He says, patting the desk behind you. "Ass up here," He says, hand still in your throat, ensuring you do as you're told. Immediately his hands move your cheer panties to the side, the thick material soaking wet with your arousal. "Oh fuck baby.." He groans, feeling how wet you were with just a brush of his fingertips. "Already dripping fucking wet for me, huh?" He says, voice low and husky, just the way you like it. He doesnt you the time to answer, you feel the tip of his cock rubbing up and down your soft, wet cunt, coating himself in you. You moan at the feel of it, bucking your hips up just ever so slightly, inviting him in to you like the greedy, cock hungry whore you were for him.

You didn't have to wait much longer because before you knew it, you felt yourself stretching around his long, thick cock, taking it all in inch, by fucking inch until you swallowed it up whole. You couldnt help but clench around him, keeping him in place for a moment, with a quick squeeze of your throat, you let him go. Without warning he he pulls almost all the way out of you, before giving a strong, sharp thrust back in. You gasp, your eyes closing and your legs spreading wider to take him. "Oh fuck, baby.." You whimper as he does once more, twice more..

You feel his hand tighten and a low guttural sound escape him, and fuck it just sounds so good that you feel yourself start to drip down his balls from how fucking turned on you were by him in that moment.

"Always so fuckin' needy, babygirl." He grunts out, feeling you drip down him, hearing his skin slap against your own. He grips your hip almost meanly, using it to hold you in place, his fingers digging into you in such a way that he knows he's leaving bruised in your perfect skin. "Always take me so fucking good while I fuck you silly, don't you?" He coos, looking down at you. He keeps a steady, unforgiving pace and he knows he must be hitting every fucking spot inside of you because you can't even form sentences for him right now, just a string of grunts and half thought words as your thighs tighten around his waist, holding him there.

"Such a needy fucking cock whore, always wanting me when you can't fucking have me.." He continues to grunt, his eyes never leaving your face. He feels you start to spasm around him, and fuck that almost sends him over the edge because even in the dark you look like a fucking goddess having the brain fucked out of you underneath of him like this. "Always wanting me in places where everyone will know..you want all of those silly boys to know that only a real man knows how to fuck you right? Hm? Is that it?"

Another few moments and you're coming unraveled beneath him, coming so hard that he feels you vibrating under him, but he's not done, not yet. "Good fucking girl, getting so drunk on my fucking cock.." He says, praising you in all the ways he knew you liked. "You look so fucking gorgeous coming undone under me like that..fuck, I want to see it one more time baby..ready?" Before you can answer, hell, before you can even start to see straight again, he starts moving inside of you again, the same pace as before. Your already overstimulated pussy practically begs him to stop, but god, it still swallows him up so well that he can't bring himself to.

"Holy fuck, Jim.." You manage to spit out, your head rolling back, but your eyes never leaving him. "Oh fuck baby you feel so fucking good, i love it when you feed my greedy pussy every fucking inch of you.." You spit out despite the hand that's back around youer throat. His hand is at the top of your throat, thumb and fingers digging into your face as he drags your head up to his, sitting you up in more of a way that gives him better access to you. He kisses you deeply, the action muffling the small scream of pleasure that comes from you as he manages to hit your sweet spot every single time now, turning you back into a dumb babbling mess almost immediately. "Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck..' You groan out, feeling your second orgasm start to hit you like nothing you've ever felt before. "Ohmygodohmygod.." You managed to squeak out, feeling the overwhelming orgasm actually splash out of you, squirting all over the both of you.

"Holy fucking shit babygirl.." Jim grunts out, looking down between you both. That was probably the hottest thing you'd ever fucking done on him. "Oh fuck..shit..im gonna fill that needy pussy up so fucking good baby, and then im gonna take you home and we're gonna fuck until i make you do that again.." He grunts, feeling himself start to follow you over the proverbial edge. "Fucking hottest shit I've ever seen you do, such a fucking whore for me that you actually squirted.."

You groan loudly, overstimulated, over fucked, and excited by the sheer fact that he had pretty much just promised to fuck you into oblivion once he got you into his bed tonight. "Fucking hell baby, please fill me up, please jim i want your cum so fucking bad baby please let me feel it all...fucking over me..just like that baby.." You groan out, damn near coming a third time. You felt him come so hard that it hit your walls and immediately started falling out of you with him still in you, still going.

After a few more moments, he stills, panting as he leans over you, bringing your mouth to his in a sloppy, passionate kiss. God, you fucking loved him.

He starts to chuckle as he leans his head against yours. "Holy fuck, babygirl..you're so doing that again for me tonight.." He says, pulling his pants back up before helping you stand, only to have to carry you on his back again when he realized how weak your legs were.

"Fuck, Hop..that was...fucking intense.." You manage to get out, not even arguing as he places you into his truck. You really hoped Susie was smart enough to realize where you were and to cover for you with your parents if they asked, because you knew there was no way in hell you were going home to yours tonight.

#jim hopper smut #chief hopper smut #hopper #stranger things smut #stranger things #david harbour #david harbour smut

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okaystoptellingmetomakeanaccount · 21 days

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LESSER KNOWN STORIES ANY MAGICA FAN SHOULD READ I THINK

NO ROSA NO BARKS NO ARTIBANI

ONLY LESSER KNOWN COMICS

some scarpa will slip in im afraid this is difficult okay.

Thanks btw soony for the inspiration this is actually really fun

One of the earliest Magica stories, this one is from 1969. One of the most creative out there, especially for being such an early one. Also there’s a scene where Magica goes all scarface (i think, i have never watched that stuff i just heard he goes all shooty shoot) and thats quite amusing.

Really sweet comic. Everyone who only knows Magica from ducktales should read this comic to understand how much more complicated her character is in the original comics. It does such a great job at showing the other facets of her character in such a simple way. Don’t listen to the inducks review of m3gr1ml0ck (he’s almost always super based but not this time). Listen to the inducks review of Appie Aap (who is always based because he’s Appie Aap).

Kind of overrated in my opinion but Sarda’s characterization is PERFECTION. Story is average asf (though maybe i need to reread it) but all the little things are so incredibly well done. Molinari is great too of course.

It’s one of the recent more well known comics yeah okay but its mostly known because people thought Vian thought Etna was the Vesuvius (which they solved with a simple dialogue change in the German translation because it really was not that complicated guys) and it should be known for being a great comic instead. One day I will write a really long review about why it’s a masterpiece. Maybe. It perfectly manages to bring back the spirit of the Sarda written comics without some of the annoying quirks of his writing and with the fact that Bruno Enna is writing now and I love Bruno Enna guys robophobia is a masterpiece last hunt is a masterpiece i love bruno enna-

Magica really cares a lot about Ratface. You should read it.

Magica really cates about Ratface part 2. These two comics aren’t must reads but they’re good to help understand Magica and Ratface their relationship. (In italian comics at least. They seem to hate each other sometimes in Denmark)

Talking about Danish stories. Here. (Written by an American and drawn by a Dutchie. Egmont knows no borders) It IS quite well known, but tumblr here seems mostly familiar with Italian comics and this story has never been published in Italy, so I still think it deserves a mention. I was never a big fan of it, but all the inducksers seem to like it and i cant ignore its significance. So here it is i would still recommend.

Magica tells about her ancestor and her ancestor is lovely.

Magica talks about her ancestor and her ancestor is lovely part 2. (these ARE must reads!)

Magica turns herself into a floppy disk and everything you expect to happen happens. You want a typical fun but average Dutch comic? Then i’d recommend this one.

(I wanted to recommend another comic here but tumblr refuses to save it and ive been trying for what feels like hours so im giving up) (for some reason it did save at least this)

I really wanted to suggest more Danish stories but i have either not read them, theyre a gal for gladstone (aka not not well known) or theyre bad.

#magica de spell #disney comics #comic recommendations

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5eraphim · 1 year

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how would u rank each merc on a scale of 1 to 10 for how hot they are

ranked from lowest to highest-

(non of this was proofread, so sorry abt that/edit later maybe?)

alright so sprinting into dead last is scout- im sorry ive said this a billion times but CHRIST ALIVE- (-10/10)

like im so pissed too- your ma is a SMOKESHOW, you're dad is (dare i say) also a 10, how did it happen like this? he's like a precum baby i think. like he's not all the way human. he wasn't meant to be like this, but yet here he stands, a pancaked-ass Masshole in the place a greater man might have stood. i want to break his spine over my knee.

sniper after scout. (4/10)

his voice is sooooo great, and i have warmed up a bit to him, but all the same. he's just not my type physicality wise, but i think i get the appeal. i also thought it was really sweet they let him have that soft moment with his parents in heaven where his dad tells him how proud he was and all that. (assuming it wasn't all a hallucination, but i digress,) i would've expected them to show his dad giving him a hard time one last time before he came back to earth, but i'm happy the comics let him have this :)

pyro next, (5/10)

the cop out answer is "well obviously the fire-brandishing character is the hottest-" but that's lame to me. it's honestly REALLY hard for me to see them as attractive or "dateable" just bc I project "my child" onto them. I've mentioned before, but i don't like them bc i wanna fuck them, i wanna protect them like a mother. i wanna feed them a homecooked stew with a wooden spoon, i wanna make crayon drawings with them, tell them bedtime stories, hand-stich him a stuffed animal, yk that sort of vibe. i do care for them a lot, but not in a romantic sense tbh.

Demo and Soldier (7/10)

I'm putting them together bc they are only really attractive to me when they're drawn with bulk-muscle. the idea of either of them packing on lean muscle is so weird to me. but they just feel like such living embodiments of "just here for a good time," and honestly? sometimes that's all you need :) If i HAD to put one above the other, I would put Demo over Solder, bc i ADORE fanart and official art that give him that cute little drunken lazy smile. it's just such a little thing that is so endearing to me!

Spy (10/10)

i'm sorry, i genuinely have no idea why i'm such an apologist for him, i deserve to have my rights taken away for this.

but i think i genuinely envy him in a lot of ways. he's not exactly the kind of attractive i want, but what i want to become. i envy his poise, his swagger, his cunning, (his ability to pull scout's ma). he's such a great jerk-with-a-heart-of-gold type of older guy, of which i am weak to, alas. i NEED to go on a shoplifting spree with this bitch-

Heavy (10/10)

the hottest thing to fantasize abt heavy to me is him calling me a weak little baby and mocking me for being a 5'3 underweight, anemic little loser. this man could DESTROY ME, and damn is that fun to think about, but! I'd be remiss not to mention how much he loves his family, how he would do ANYTHING to protect those he loves the most, and i swear, that one panel in the comics of him hugging his mother gets me every time.

medic (15/10)

what is there even to say that hasn't been said?

He's a chaotic-hottie if ever there's been one, with a kind of zest for life which is remarkable, even in a cast of colorful manic weirdoes. but like, CHRIST this man makes me go feral. like i want him to wrap his gloves around my neck tight enough for the latex to start squeeking, i wanna feel those high-traction combat boots DIGGING into my back as he crushes me into the floor, i want him to drain me of blood and make fun of me for passing out- i would let this man do so many unspeakable things to me...

engie (20/10)

i will never get tired of this guy <3 he's the living embodiment of "southern comfort," and much like medic, it's not at all surprising people love him so much. no one else has his character's incredible dichotomy of, sweet and gentle, while also able to deal out insane levels of violence (heavy comes close, but he doesn't quiet have engie's soft approachable disposition). definitely got the short end of the stick in the comics imo, as we don't get to see much of his family (or rather him interacting WITH his family) but in game at least he gives them lot's of shout-outs which is nice, but honestly makes me want to see them all the more! he's such a whore for all those cozy knit-wear cosmetics too. he's perfect in every way, he makes my heart flutter, he has never done anything wrong in his life ever, i would die to protect him.

#anonymous #thank you so much for the ask <3 #im so sorry you had to read this <3 #x reader #self ship #ALL STAR SCOUT SIMP ANON LOOK AWAY #the way that the scout simp anon is the first person who ever sent in a oneshot req #and like got me back into writing #to which ive repaid them by doing NOTHING but shit on scout since- IM SORRY I OWE YOU EVERYTHING I HAVE FAILED YOU SOOO HARD #all mercs

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azumasoroshi · 1 year

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minidura chapter 2 react (izaya has stopped functioning)

i already forgot what i named the last post whoops

anyway

shizuo jumpscare

as a psychology student who is also taking sociology goddamn do i love the whole community aspect of durarara and the forms. wish i could start a festival in my town just by suggesting it online somewhere. it's so cool how you have no idea of the qualifications of the people you talk to (just like on tumblr except this is all ikebukuro people. and izaya)

i wonder if izaya being the only member of the cast (afaik) to not live in ikebukuro is symbolic of how he feels has to distance himself from the chaos at least a little bit in order to not get swept up in it himself. it's like a self restraint type thing

that's probably really obvious though forgive me im still dutsing off my character analysis lack-of-skills ANYWAY

tom is such a malewife honestly

i dont think ive ever had chocolate bananas before. huh. strawberries sure bananas nah

he looks so cute in that last panel ghghghjhhrhghgghjf

i dont get to see enough of normal laid back shizuo behavior with all the shizaya art i look at lmfAOO

i swear to god if celty's in a kimono 💀 shinra is about to be the most annoying man alive

stupid puns my beloved

the way tom's eyes are drawn in that last panel reminds me of like. american cartoon but i cant put my finger on it

is it arnold from the magic school bus or is it arthur from arthur. who knows

"you absolutely cant get into a fight today" ah so the peace wont last. damn

EGGPLANTZAYA

i cant wait for izaya to show up this chapter and annoy the living hell out of shizuo

maybe i should make eggplantzaya my profile picture (i wont because im too attached to rantaro. not even him as a character just the profile picture) (also because i cant remember where i found the profile picture and im too scared to let it go)

i see that blurb with the really cute izaya picture on the left and im assuming it's just a "this is orihara izaya btw. he's really annoying and shizuo hates him for ruining his life" type thing but god i wish i could read it anyway ill take any crumbs

HERE HE COMES!!!!!!!

oh nvm he's getting shafted for now, we transition to-

WHAT DID I FUCKING TELL YOU

celty in a kimono is inevitable. you cannot escape

she is cute though <3 this might be her first festival since she's irish too damn

that just reminded me god i wish celty talked in a super thick irish accent. some people have already mentioned that but im reiterating it because maybe some abridged series will consider it

wait oh my god is this gonna be another hotpot party type "izaya organized all this because he's lonely and wants an excuse to hang out with people that tolerate him" thing. amazing wonderful i love the izaya slander going on in this manga today

and i was about to say "oh i guess that wasnt izaya's silhouette in the shizuo-tom panel" but he's holding a chocolate banana 💀rip tom's pay i guess

i can imagine how that went but i dont think ill have to imagine for much longer

oh yeah it was right in the next panel lmAO at least you got free food izaya dont complain

"he looks like he's having fun" awwwwwwwwwwwww nothing more fun than ticking off shizuo and not getting hurt in the process

just realized he has the constantly closed eyes pff gin ichimaru lookin edgy ass bitch

he opens his eyes like it's a dramatic supervillain reveal but it's really just him being lonely. thanks for always exposing him shinra mwah

WHY IS HE ACTING SO EVIL. doing the fucking arm spread like this is a bad thing what is wrong with him

i love how mikado shinra and celty are looking at each other like "this fucking guy. cant have one normal conversation"

PFFFFFFFFFFFF

i know shinra is laughing his ass off beneath those glasses rn

izaya's face is amazing actually. you know that one scene in bungou stray dogs wan where atsushi gets dazai a gift and dazai glitches out and stops processing information because he doesnt know how to handle appreciation. this is literally that scene

huh. now i understand why durarara and bsd always get recommended together

KILL HIM MIKADO!! KILL HIM WITH KINDNESS HE'S ALREADY HALFWAY TO HELL

literal proof that izaya ceases to function when someone actually likes him. idc that this isn't canon it's canon because i say so

(side note MAN did they have to give airi noticable cleavage even in her chibi form. come on. you didnt do it for celty you dont have to do it to her 😭 the amount of fanservice with her drives me nuts in the main series)

my man is BROKEN just look at him

local gay baby realizes he accidentally made everyone happy. oops

walker and erika in the background too <3 they're so cute ugh

YOU DUMBASS

i knew itd be another hotpot thing oh mygod he's so. fucking idiot you couldve just tagged along with them 😭

it's only once he imagines shizuo that he snaps too pffffffffft

also namie appearance!!!!!!! hope she appears more in future chapters

10/10 chapter would bully izaya again

oops almost missed the ending drawing!! so cuteeee <3333

#shizaya #izaya orihara #shizuo heiwajima #mikado ryuugamine #celty sturulson #shinra kishitani #tom tanaka #durarara #long post #i should make a soro reacts tag actually. thatd be better for organization #i sound like a youtuber help #like and subscribe for more of my shitty commentary guys!!!

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yuukei-yikes · 1 year

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give 5 of your favorite takane headcanons plzplz *big eyes*

this has been sitting in my inbox for a few weeks cuz i was trying to come up with something i havent drawn/talked about before but whatever Lets fucking go even if i repeat shit OK FIRST OF ALL. THE FUCKING SLEEVES. takane post str keeping the ene sleeves bc of sensory issues my beloved <3 i think he rly tries to laugh it off at first kinda like in denial but eventually gives in (or like in that comic i made haruka talks her into it and how its ok a lil bit too)

i also drew this in a harutaka i posted but takane randomly giving static shock to people when they touch them ajdhnsakdjskf <- something having the long sleeves also helps with cuz that way he doesnt have to actually touch anyone. victims of this most often are haruka (by accident) and shintaro (on purpose). also its hair randomly standing up bc. static. this makes no sense ofc but i think its a funny and silly way to translate takane's power in her physical body. the more time he spends as ene the more charged with random electricity its physical body is. RIP harutaka kisses they kinda hurt. u can make the our love is electrifying joke only like 3 times before it becomes annoying. eventually takane thinks haruka becomes immune but in reality he just gets used to it

this is kinda canon ig cuz of that saiyuki comic abt enoshima(was it enoshima. i might be misremembering LOL whatever the picture contest one) where its implied shes been playing for a living so streamer vtuber ene REAL. a hit bc its an insane fucking model to have. when asked who made it enes just like ohh sorry the guy who made is my teacher who died lol!!! maybe theres a bunch of conspiracy videos abt it because ene stops going online for 2 years and then theyre back but instead of a silent stream like it always was its THIS. huge hit though. its awesome. streamer takane is so real not only does he use its power for a job but its also basically "kay time to go to work *falls asleep*" takane being the only? mekadan guy who actually loves their power and actively uses it post str will never not be funny they/she/he/it takane btw. if you even care. bisexual nonbinaries eating hot chip and lying. blue hair AND pronouns. ALSO THE BLUE HAIR ive also drawn this a few times but takane chopping all its hair off+dyeing it blue my beloved. post str takane is never rly drawn with the long hair he has when she gets his body back but ummm i think itd be funny if post str they had it and cut it straight to short from there. i do not want to see the no9 novel ever tbh im fine with it being buried and dead but omg....takane design without the stupid fucking pigtails im BEGGING id kill to see a canon takane design without them. but i live in my delusion and in it theres short blue hair and pronouns!!!

not so much of a takane headcanon more of a general one but also sort of related. im so fascinated by what saeru must've told haruka and takane's parents. haruka was gonna die anyway so his dad wouldnt be surprised but theres No Body? i think for him he was probably a little gaslighted abt seeing him dead and by how he is described maybe he wouldve been fine with never looking at his son dead+convinced to have a closed casket by his old pal mr tateyama and just buried an empty casket for haruka.

but for takanes grandma its so complicated bc she had no REASON to have takane disappear like that. basically i think saeru gaslights gatekeeps girlbosses so hard like gaslights both’s parents to hell and back but especially takanes grandma bc harukas dad is more or less covered but with all its money and resources it can cover up haruka and takanes disappearances altogether so takanes just. Gone. and this poor womans rly has no answers, no closure, no nothing. takane just vanishes!!! grandma enomoto protagonist when. i think itd be funny if she went full on old woman conspiracy theory mode or just tries to move on with this huge mystery behind. takane and grandma reunion i want to see it. haruka with his dad too tbh im rly curious what theyd tell them and what theyve been told LOL

i think haruka and takane dont go back to their families immediately bc they have no fucking clue what to even say so they stay in the hideout for the time being (would the dan move to the tateyama house post str? i read this in a fic once i think itd make sense and i always go sniff sniff imagining mekatrio+mary saying goodbye to the 107 apt). but for takane it sort of becomes urgent bc um it starts becoming apparent she needs its meds and the dan does NOT have the funds so while haruka can wait it out takane is like forced to go back home. i think at first takane would try to pull thru bc with its powers he can still hang out and stuff but its rather haruka/shintaro/ayano being like UMMMM... YEA U NEED UR MEDS. yuukei quartet visiting enomoto grandma WHEN!!!!!!they go 4 emotional support/help to explain i thinks. i think they wouldve known her back then too cuz in the sixth novel haruka mentions they go to takane's house for ayano's bday party after the gaming event.

ummm... sorry this got long. sits down. sry theyre all moslty post str headcanons LOL post str my beloved

#ask tag #headcanons #takane enomoto

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reidsnose · 3 years

Text

doodles

overview: reader doodles on her hands a lot and spencer has to give into the temptation of coloring it in

genre: flufffffff

a/n: sorry ive havent posted a fic in like a week, ive been in quite a slump but i had this idea well after midnight but i just had to write it so lmk what u guys think of this one :)

masterlist

doodling on your hands: a once nervous habit that had seeped into your everyday life and now is just a regular habit. nearly everyday you would come to work with clean hands and get home with a mini art gallery on your non dominant one.

Spencer admired this from the moment he noticed it. at first he thought you had a tattoo but when you came back the next day with it completely gone, he was a tad confused, only to catch you doodling on that very same hand a couple hours later on the jet. he thought maybe it was an occasional thing, a habit you'd quit once you got better situated into the team, but after nearly a year you still left work almost everyday with some cutesy sketches drawn on your hand.

Spencer found himself looking forward to your doodles, imagining in his head what you might draw each day, and thinking of all the colors you would add if you had the time. being the great profiler that he is, he noticed a pattern: you subconsciously correlated your doodles with your mood.

after especially hard cases or just bad days you always drew roses.

when you were very happy you drew all sorts of fruits.

anxiousness bore little swampy creatures and lily pads.

tired days filled your hands with random, intricate designs that you didn't even have to try hard to make.

and content was anything else.

he was so impressed and absolutely adored your little coping mechanism. watching you concentrate on making those teeny pieces of art simply for your own pleasure was definitely a sight to see. the way your eyebrows furrowed and tongue poked out a bit was absolutely positively adorable. and soon he had noticed that he was looking forward less to the doodles and more to watching you draw them. and after that he began looking forward to just you.

you were sat on the jet with your back to the corner of the last seat on the plane, creating a pattern of roses on the back of your hand. Spencer plopped down in the seat next to you, growing tired of watching from so far away.

"that bad, huh?" he asked, noticing the type of flower you were gracing your hand with.

"hm?" you looked up, confused.

"you only doodle roses on bad days." he explained, pointing to your hand.

"what? no i don't!" you defended, " i just think roses are neat."

to be fair, you were having a bad day but he could've profiled that without the doodle. he cant be right, can he? there was no way you had a mood system for your doodles! unless there was.

"repetitive strokes are therapeutic, so roses being rough days make sense. the spiral in the middle followed by however many layered petals you want is a perfectly repetitive while still interesting enough to doodle."

"if i didn't know any better i'd say you've been spying on me, Dr. Reid," you teased, enjoying the slight rouge that appeared on his cheeks.

"what! no! i'm- i'm a profiler i notice patterns! i just- spying sounds creepy." he stammered.

"ok. how about admiring." you jabbed, turning a little red yourself.

"fine. but you know coloring helps too." he flipped back to the old topic of conversation.

"unfortunately i only have the standard blue, black and red ink."

"roses are red." he chuckled.

"interesting point," you bent down and reached into your bag, pulling out a red pen and handing it to him, "knock yourself out."

"what?" he looked at you slightly bewildered.

"coloring is therapeutic, you said it yourself. and you and i both know that you need something to relax you after a case like that. we all do." you explained, trying to be as nonchalant as you could knowing his skin would touch yours.

he grabbed the pen and clicked it open, coloring smoothly and slowly inside the lines you had already made in black, careful not to go over them and smudge the ink. you and him both tried your best to ignore the warmth shooting through your bodies from every place your hands touched. his fingertips lightly grazing your knuckles as he worked.you worked your way up your arm, giving you both space to work and by the time you landed, you had a half sleeve garden of surprisingly well colored (and somehow shaded) red roses.

you went home that night and bought a pack of colorful (washable) pens, hoping this little rose garden with him wasn't a one time thing. and even if it was, you would want to add your own pop of color to your doodles.

thankfully it wasn't.

you and Spencer found yourselves drawing and coloring on your hand a lot. he would catch you doing it and pop in over your shoulder just to add a touch of color where he thought it fit. and you began to feel sad washing off what the two of you had created that day, feeling nostalgic for time that has hardly passed.

and sometimes on the jet you would get tired of your own skin, so you would draw little doodles on his hand, often times leaving a little heart at the base of his thumb. these little hearts he avoided washing off for as long as he possibly could because they felt like a part of you was always with him. he started doing the same thing to your hand, a sort of signature the two of you shared.

most days, the doodles on your hands were pretty much fully colored in.

but now Spencer began to worry. what if you get ink poisoning because of his coloring? sure, the risk was statistically low, improbable even; but never zero. so one night after work he went out and bought a little sketchbook and on the front he scrawled,

"y/n's super duper special sketchbook"

upon receiving it, after giving him a hug he never wanted to let go of, you took a sharpie and started editing the title he had given it. so it now read:

"y/n and Spencer's super duper special sketchbook"

the two of you used up a whole page that day, front and back filled with all types of fruits. Spencer smiled to himself, knowing this had made you very happy. you took a second to take a step back and admire him doing the very thing he admired you for. and you understood why; he just looked so precious and you suddenly realized you craved the feeling of his hand touching yours. so you leaned over and drew a little black heart at the base of his thumb. he looked up at you, smiling widely before returning a red heart to the base of your thumb.

and you guys tore through that book, using a page a day and filling it cover to cover in no time. your own personal handmade coloring book. it turned out to be both of your most prized possessions, a pang of sadness filling your chests as you finished the last page.

you felt bad taking it home with you that night, wondering if maybe Spencer wanted to keep it. maybe you should keep it at work so you can both have it. thats the fair thing to do. you looked down, smiling sadly at the little red heart on your hand.

he did want to keep it. but he had a better idea in mind. he looked down, smiling excitedly at the little black heart on his hand.

the next day when you arrived to work all your worries were solved. on your desk laid a new sketch book entitled:

"y/n and Spencer's super duper special sketchbook: volume ii"

you laughed as you read a small lilac post it note that said, "i want to keep this one please" signed with a little red heart in the corner.

ultra mega super cool taglist:

@mac99martin @imhreid @spencersmagic @hollydaisy23 @raelady1184 @a-broken-pact @padfootswife @hey-there-angels @star-stuff-in-the-cosmos @sonnydoesrandomshit @coffeereid-deactivated20210303 @averyhotchner @laurakirsten0502 @reidyoulikeabook @rem-ariiana @spencerreid9 @vampire-overlord @takeyourleap-of-faith @s1utformgg @violetspoetic

#criminal minds #spencer reid #reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x reader fluff #dr spencer reid #derek morgan #emily prentiss #penelope garcia #aaron hotchner #david rossi #luke alvez #tara lewis #matt simmons #bau #bau x reader #criminal minds fanfiction

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shurisneakers · 3 years

Text

harmless (iv)

Summary: Bucky volunteers to go stop a small time villain, but nothing can prepare him for what exactly he has to deal with. (Bucky x villain!reader, drabble series)

Warnings: cursing, guns, mention of war, frustrated bucky, dramatic reader

Word count: 1.5k

A/N: good evening i’ve never been to any of the places i mention in this series so dont come @ me

if you have any ideas for future inventions/evil plans, lemme know! i might actually end up using them

here’s my ko-fi if you’d like to support my writing <333

Previous Part || Series Masterlist

He spends the weekend doing nothing. It’s supposed to be relaxing. He finds it nauseatingly boring.

“No mini mission this week?” Steve asks him from across the couch.

They’re supposed to be catching up on Star Wars but two prequels in and Bucky could feel himself lose his sanity. Anyone could present him with a random assortment of alphabets, call it a Star Wars species and he would have no reason not to believe them.

It’s not like he doesn’t like space. It’s just that he’s had enough of it and everything and everyone who came from it for the foreseeable future.

“No. Someone else is taking care of it.”

“Didn’t you volunteer for this?”

“I pulled myself out of the case.”

“I thought you were having fun.”

Bucky’s head slowly turns to look at him. “Why would you think that?”

“I don’t know,” Steve shrugged. “Looked like you were.”

Well, he wasn’t. He likes it here at home, glued to the TV. Popcorn beside him, sweatpants on. Refreshing, calming, slow, mundane, and Jesus Christ, so fucking boring-

His spiralling is interrupted by the dinging of the elevator to the common floor. No one was allowed up there unless it was extremely urgent. Guests were barely allowed into the Tower as it was.

It reveals the receptionist from downstairs, Marie. She’s always a little reserved, a little shy. But Bucky had seen her chew and spit out trespassers or anyone who dared to get on her nerve. He adores her.

“Hey, Marie,” Steve says while Bucky sends her a friendly wave in greeting. “What’s wrong?”

“There’s a hostage situation downtown,” she informs them.

“Okay...” Steve drawls, waiting for a reason why this was an Avengers level threat.

“They’ve asked for Mr. Barnes by name.” She makes a mention towards him.

Bucky sits up straight. Bits of popcorn fall off his chest.

“What?”

“They said, and I quote-” she looks down at her notepad. “‘Tell that grumpy motherfucker that I’m waiting for him and that he’s not getting out of this so easily because we have come too far.’ End quote. They’ve also told me to include a kissing emoji. And a skull.”

Steve and he look at each other.

“Well?” Steve prods.

Bucky sighs and gets up to go get ready.

The entrance of Chuck E. Cheese is more crowded than he’d ever seen. He wasn’t even sure he’d seen people in the store before. If there were, they probably only came up till his waist.

There are a few journalists, a few policemen standing together outside. Whispers of confusion and curiosity reigned free.

Bucky gently pushes his way to the front. He gets a nod from a police officer who opens the door for him after a quick briefing.

The place is darker than it usually would be. A trademark, it seemed. The blinds are drawn shut and most of the light is coming through whatever sneaks in through the crack.

“Hey, Barnes.” Your voice is muffled by a mask that looks suspiciously like it was made out of classroom craft supplies.

There’s a person in a loose chokehold in your hand with a gun pressed against his head. Once again it looks straight out of a cartoon, purple with round disks lining its barrel.

“What’s all this now?” He gestures around monotonously.

“A hostage situation. Didn’t you get the memo?”

“Got that part down, genius,” he bites back. “But why?”

“Fucker kept harassing me when I was walkin’ down the street.”

The guy’s helpless gaze met Bucky.

“Catcalling me, stalking me.” You tighten the grip you have on him. “Call me darlin’ one more time, you son of a bitch. I dare you.”

He wasn’t impressed with his pleading eyes. He kinda felt like he deserved it.

“Why’d you do it here?” The bright colours were starting to give him a heading. “And where are the staff?”

“It’s symbolic, Bucky,” you emphasise, “He deserves to be among other rat bastards.”

Of course.

“The staff?” he asks again.

“Gave them thirty bucks and told them to leave. I’m not a monster.”

“Right.” He doesn’t bother refuting you. “Why’d you call me here?”

“Dunno.” You shrug. “Thought it’d be fun. You having fun yet?”

You shake the guy you’re holding. He gives a small whimper.

Bucky doesn’t want to stop you. He had chugged enough Respect Juice in his lifetime to know that this guy probably deserved a threat or two.

Hell, he’d even help but you were more than capable of handling this on your own.

“Listen,” he sighed. “As much as I’m sure he deserves it, this is technically illegal and I’m required to stop you.”

“Sorry sarge, I thought you weren’t interested in playing this stupid game with me,” you mock, voice dropping to imitate him.

“I’m not.” It wasn’t entirely true. One Saturday with Jar Jar Binks had convinced him otherwise.

“Okay, so before you leave, do me a favour and call Hawkeye. I hear he looks mighty fine when he’s annoyed.”

His face involuntarily scrunched up. You were going to replace him with Clint? Clint?

He probably took it more as an insult than he should have.

“I’m not doing that.” Bless his foul mouthed friend, but he was a little shit who was too sarcastic for his own good. At least twice a week he’d say something stupid to Bucky and then take out his hearing aids when he tried to argue back.

“You’re leavin’ me with no options here,” you groaned, using your thumb to flip a switch. The gun looks like it powered up, lights along the side turning red.

If he let you have this, it’d be a bad look for the Avengers.

New York man dies in Chuck E. Cheese lone hostage situation, unable to be saved by same superhero who tried to fight Thanos with a machine gun.

“Tell ya what,” he says instead, “If you kill him, there won’t even be a slight chance that you’ll see me again.”

Your grip on the gun falters.

“If I let him go...”

“I might consider coming back next week.” He’s trying to spin it, make it look like he’s the one with the upper hand here. “But you gotta let him go.”

You search his face for any signs of dishonesty.

“Let him go or you’ll never see me again.” It sounds too much like Clint’s arguments with his dog who brought a live squirrel into the house.

“Fine,” you relent, a glint in your eye. “but say goodbye to this fuckface.”

Before Bucky can open his mouth to shout in protest, you pull the trigger. The man clenches his eyes shut, face red.

He expects blood to be splatter across his face.

Nothing happens.

A barrage of bubbles floats into the room.

“I meant it literally,” you say, pushing him off you. “Say goodbye. He’s leaving.”

The man stumbles to the ground and Bucky doesn’t make any attempt to catch him. He scrambles to his knees, picking himself up and scurrying out the door to a hoard of reporters.

The door shuts behind him with the chime of a bell.

“You’re annoying,” Bucky states, giving a small sigh.

“I’m well aware of that.” You pull off the mask, wiping the sweat off your brow.

“Where is the agent assigned to your case?”

“Dunno. Last I saw he was crying on the driveway of my lair. I just figured he’d pick himself up later so I left him there.”

Bucky’s nose twitches.

“You weren’t actually going to kill him, were you.” He shrugs with his shoulder towards the door. It wasn’t a question, more a statement. He knew you wouldn’t.

“I could have.”

“But you weren’t going to,” he repeats.

“No,” you admit. “I wasn’t. But I’m glad to see you showed up.”

“You held someone hostage as leverage.”

“No, no. I held someone hostage and then asked to see you. They were completely unrelated.”

“You’re evil.”

“You jumped to conclusions,” you point out. “Would you like a trampoline next time? Maybe a pogo stick, you clown?”

He has a very real gun in his holster. His very real metal death arm aches to use it.

“No one else agreed to come,” he deflects.

“We both know that’s a lie. You were going to come back anyway.” You stuff the bubble gun back into the bag. “I’m deliciously irresistible.”

“I beg to differ.”

“Then beg.” You give him a smirk and he rolls his eyes. “Don’t worry, you win this round, sarge.”

He doesn’t say anything. He watches you remove your heist gear, revealing normal civilian clothes underneath.

You walk casually to the kitchen, intending to leave through the back door.

“But I can’t say I lost either.” You send him a wink before swiftly pushing open the door and leaving him behind.

He only watches you leave.

It doesn’t hit him until a few seconds later that he let a criminal out of his hands when there were several policemen and journalists outside.

He entertains the idea of chasing you down and handing you over.

It takes him only a few seconds to decide that if they wanted you, they’d have to try themselves.

Next part

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #mcu fic #bucky fic #bucky barnes fic #bucky fluff #bucky barnes fluff #bucky angst #bucky barnes angst #harmless fic #winter soldier x reader #Winter Soldier #bucky barnes #bucky

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yesimwriting · 3 years

Note

Do you think Kirigan would go for soft girls or the ones that has the same personality as him?

a/n ahh okay ik ive been bad at updating and making content on here and been on a kinda unofficial break but im doing a little better mentally so more content soon!! anyways i had to answer this the SECOND i saw it bc i have SO many opinions.

okay,, this is going to sound like such a cop out answer, but i think there's no wrong answer bc it depends on how you interpret his character (which i'll explain really soon) but basically, in short, my personal opinion is that he'd go for a balance but be more drawn to someone that presents as one extreme and has the opposite hidden in them,,

personally, i think he'd be drawn to someone that presents as a 'soft' girl with a hidden 'darkness' in them, i don't mean like secretly evil but someone who wants to be good so badly but something in them is just a little too hurt or impulsive to always be the bigger person, even though they want to be.

Here's why I think that personality would draw him in most (i'll also explain the opposite personality bc like i said at the beginning, i think it really depends on how you interpret his character)

- okay, so it's clear that manipulation is kinda his love language (all he did was manipulate my girl Alina and i personally do think that that was the only way he was capable of loving her, so his issues weren't an absence of love but an inability to love in a healthy way--but that's just my opinion)

- so someone in that mental state that wants to be good and for the most part is but sometimes does foolish things bc they're human and have to deal with complex emotions (emotions that remind him of his personal struggles), would be really easy to manipulate bc he's clearly not an upstanding moral guy

- so when he tells someone with those internal conflicts that he sees seeds of darkness or something beyond the exterior they show the world, that person is inclined to believe him. (like when he tells alina that he saw her power and didn't run away, but can Mal say the same?)

- and after planting those seeds, he would be quick to reap them,, what do i mean by that??

- well, a major, personal headcanon of mine is that the Darkling definitely craves the acceptance and assurance of a partner to keep away the solitude that haunts him but he's afraid/hates the idea of losing control and giving someone so much one sided power over him

- so that's why he would be drawn to someone with a softer exterior for deeper connection purposes, bc he could feel like a protector/comforter and maintain some control (i also could very easily see him having an innocence/corruption kink but we're not here for that)

- also,, i think he'd see someone like that (or just his SO in general) as super good, and there would be some level of comfort in him to be able to look at his SO and be like 'they care for me/need me so i cant be that far gone, that lost' or maybe even be like 'if someone as good as them is allowed their impulses, i should be allowed mine'

- i also feel like he'd instinctually convince himself he HATES any 'soft presenting' person he's even somewhat attracted/intrigued by bc anything he sees as pure good he'd be at least a little jealous of in a way he doesn't understand (bc keep in mind, his darkness didnt come from a place of true malice originally)

- but i think he'd bore of someone that's completely soft just bc he's attracted to power bc even when he's not working on his plans, he is,, and if the potential SO doesn't have that power physically (as in political influence/grisha ability) he'd ideally need some strength of will/personality,, which is why he likes to press on that person's fear of being 'bad'

- he'd also like to prey on someone with this personality's fear of being a bad person so that he could feel better about himself bc like i said earlier,, a small part of him would be jealous of their goodness and i think at times he'd even be insecure

- especially if his SO started spending time with someone that's a better person than him bc he wants/needs to be the person that his SO cares about most bc it's not like he cares about a lot of ppl and if he cares more about them than they do about him,, that's not a type of control he'd be willing to relinquish

now why i think ppl could believe that he'd 'go for' someone with a similar exterior to him but has a secret soft inside:

- well,, that's basically him

- i believe opposites attract way more in complex characters (which is part of the reason i lean towards the first dynamic), but he could def be with someone with such a similar personality bc two people that crave power could create such a great couple

- first off, there would be a natural challenge there, bc the two could keep each other on edge and motivated (and victory/adrenaline of competition sex would hit hard,, let me tell you)

- he'd feel comfortable being himself a little more with someone that expresses the same level of ambitions as him and that would be easier than a relationship with someone that presents as soft

- tbh i think someone with a similar personality to him as his ideal hook up but for more serious connection,, he'd connect to someone softer bc they could give him approval/assurance he needs easier

- i think that a similar personality to him would keep him on his toes and entertained which is important and someone that's as driven as him would be beneficial for multiple reasons

- they could connect to him through his struggle and validate his actions

- and if that person had a soft spot,, he'd see even more of himself in them and he'd be able to feel like a protector a little more

- he'd def like to push at that softness in order to feel like his SO is important to him, even his SO is good at hiding that part of themselves

honestly the reason that how you view his character is so important in answering this question is bc it depends on whether you think that motivation/being pushed while still being needed is more important to him or being validated while still feeling like he's in control is more important to him.

but yeah,, in general i think he'd be drawn to softer girls but would end up going for girls more like him bc of more assured sexual chemistry and bc it puts him less at risk at opening up to anything beyond the face he wants the world to see

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jangofctts · 3 years

Text

Sink Your Teeth In (Part 2 of Are You In Or Out?)

Rated: Explicit (Paz is in the next chapter DONT WORRY)

Word count: 7.5k

Warnings: mentions of violence, blood, the cold?, reader is in PERIL YET AGAIN, vaginal fingering, oral female receiving, unprotected vaginal sex (wrap them schlongs yall), brief hand jobs, swearing, angst, very VERY light choking, din is a sub sorta?? bottom energy

Summary: Well. At least you aren't dead. After a solo hunt gone wrong, you’re dumped in a cave on Csilla. Hopefully someone finds you before you freeze to death.

a/n: hey…so uh. HOW ABOUT THAT EPISODE HUH?!? aheM anyway--yall I just wanna thank everyone first off for all the love and support!!! I see all of your comments and tags and AH IM SO LUCKY TO HAVE ALL OF YOU GUYS. ALSO SPECIAL SHOUTOUT TO @djxrxn THIS WOULDNT HAVE BEEN DONE WITHOUT YOU BB GORL

Well—

Here you are.

Taken by surprise by another bounty, further proving how irrevocably incompetent you are at this line of work. You blame the binders. An older, clunkier model—easy to pick if you’re clever enough and yes. Maybe you should’ve asked to borrow a carbonite chamber, but hey—where’s the fun in that?

Not much, as it so happens.

Your feet had been kicked up on the dashboard, dozing and unaware of the freed bounty creeping up behind the pilot’s seat. Something delightfully blunt smashed against your temple, jolting you into a brief conscious state where the only thing you could think before passing out again, was a resounding—

Oh, fuck me sideways with a fucking lightsaber—

The rest is hazy. A blur of colors and the fuzzy shapes of your bounty’s face sneering in amusement when she bound your wrists and ankles and left you in the cargo hold. Vaguely you recall your ship being commandeered, swung into an unidentified atmosphere and landing on said unknown planet Or planets. Planet hopping to cover up a trail.

The bitter cold, sharper than a needle through skin is what shook off the last dregs of unconsciousness. The bounty’s hand was hooked into the collar of your clothes, dragging your limp body through drifts of snow and ice. You would’ve fought back—should’ve even though each extremity felt like a numb block of lead. Not very useful in a fight…

Soon, the snow turned to mud and the mud to stone as a mouth of a cave slid over the impossibly blue sky. Dumped in a cave, and left to die—perfect way to bite the dust. Your bounty turned captor lands a sharp kick to your ribs, mouthing some curse in a language you don’t understand, and left without a second thought.

Seems about right. You have a knack for lying helpless and half dead in places you ought not to be in.

Two days and counting, you’ve been holed up in this blasted cave with no food, no supplies and no comlink. It’s going be a fucking chore to find you—nearly impossible. You’re lucky in that aspect you guess—you know enough bounty hunters to sniff out a a needle in a whole stack of needles, so all it is is a race of time against the elements and how long it takes for one of them to notice.

Aeris is no help. He left a day before you had—hired as personal protection for some syndicate leader halfway across the galaxy. Ives is in a similar boat, off-world and unavailable to drag your ass out of the hole you’ve dug. Which leaves…

You sigh and pinch the bridge of your nose between your forefinger and thumb. Anytime you even think of those two a migraine cumulates behind your eyes. It’s…it’s not like anything bad happened in the aftermath—there’s been no fallout or arguments with barbed words as weapons. It’s been quiet. Like stepping onto a sheet of cracked transparisteel in a library full of tight-lipped academics.

The questions lurk under the surface of every conversation and longing look cast your way. You’ll need to clarify and sort things out eventually, but fuck—it’s such a mess of frazzled heartstrings and fine strands of impossible thoughts that lead into an endless void of doubt. You’re shoving that emotional time bomb to the very back of your mind—everything is still so raw…

So you ran.

Picked up any and all jobs that the Guild provided just to escape the looming decision of confronting a certain pair of Mandalorians. That and with them having their own tasks to complete, it was rare to see them, let alone together in the past few weeks. A simple run in here and there in the halls of the Covert, but you were too busy to stop and chat—forced a chaotic schedule upon yourself as an excuse to avoid staying in once place at a time.

Coward.

The word knots in your stomach like gnarled tree roots escaping their prison of dark soil on untrodden land.

Maker—how did everything become so tangled?

You draw your knees up to your chest and release a long, drawn out exhale that echoes through the cave. You sniff and force the swell of tears that prick at your eyes away. You’re pretty sure they’ll freeze and you’re not hoping to find out.

The only good thing about being dropped on this Maker-forsaken, wasteland devoid of anything but snow, is the free ice for the nasty gash on your forehead. A nice little parting gift.

It’s shallow…you think—it stopped bleeding the night before and is now just a scabbed over, tender wound that throbs whenever you move your head too fast. Concussion maybe—a mild one.

Maker willing when someone finds your sorry ass they’ll have bacta. Or a blanket. Either would be peachy.

Sitting up with a wince, you shuffle to the mouth of the cave for the thousandth time and scour the skyline for a familiar ship. Or, any ship really. The only thing you do see is a lonesome wisp of cloud against the grayish blue sky much to your chagrin. You scowl and stalk back into your little hovel and slump back onto the ground.

The hours drag on, the watery light of the dying sun barely doing anything to warm you. Sulking is hardly what you should be doing—not great for the burdened mind and all that, but ah, it’s so fun to wallow in misery. You curl your knees up to your chest and you must slip into a doze because when you’re snapped back into the present, footsteps punch through the frozen tundra outside your cave.

Adrenaline crackles down your spine—the bounty changed her mind. Ultimately decided she’d be safer in the long run with you dead. Fine.

If this is where your grave is going to be, might as well get in one or two punches. What’s another black eye anyway?

A shadow flickers at the mouth of the cave, curling around the wall as she draws closer. A brown boot kicks through the snow and—

“Changed your mind? I—“

Your words die on your tongue as relief floods your veins. Din Djarin stands before you, a sight for sore eyes in these trying times.

Frost glitters on the burgundy chest plate, glinting in the dim sunlight that touches the mouth of the cave. A delicate feathering of the dainty crystals that no high end lace maker could ever hope to mimic curls up the front of Din’s visor and eats away at the edges of his cloak. His heavy step forward reverberates off the walls, some of that ease replaced by the prickle of dread. His silence is unnerving.

“Din,” you say again, just so he’ll say something. “I can—“

You move to stand, but he interrupts with a halting;

“Sit.”

Your mouth snaps shut and you drop back on the floor. This…is not good. His footsteps are heavy as he approaches you and every muscle in your frame tightens like a fist wrapping around your ribcage and squeezing. The precise edges of his helmet are not a forgiving sight and even when he kneels onto one knee you have to resist the natural urge to flinch. Like this, despite hunching over, Din is broad. All hard muscle and sinew amplified by the bulky layer of beskar.

Your tongue runs over the insides of your teeth as you track his hand that he thrusts foreword. You hiss and jerk away at the sudden needly pain when his gloved thumb finds the edges of your head wound. A low sound of disapproval filters out through the helmet in a low metallic buzz.

“You won’t need stitches,” he says. Din reaches into one of his various supply pouches and pulls out a tiny vile of bacta. He casually pulls off his right glove, unscrews the vile and smears the bacta over his thumb. This time you don’t make a sound, even though your nerves scream at the razor like sensation of his thumb working the bacta into the damaged flesh. He doesn’t ask how the injury happened and you don’t care to tell him. There’s a time and place for stories about battle scars and near misses—it’s much too fresh to be spoken of right now.

The brief torture finally ends after once last glance over for other presenting injuries. He finds none, replaces his glove and stands with a muted grunt. You know what’s next. You’d rather avoid it—you aren’t keen on the berating lectures—as deserved as they are.

“I found your ship on Sato 3,” Din begins with a growl. “Imagine my surprise when I found your bounty selling it for parts.”

Ah, there it is. You wince and study your fingernails. “Pile of junk anyway…”

“I thought you’d be smarter about these things,” he snarls, his sharp tone deadly enough to slice through bone. “Was the hole blown into your lung not enough for you?”

You swallow and bite your tongue.

The bristling Mandalorian, continues and jabs an orange tipped finger at you. “You are reckless.”

Your chest constricts as you look away, shame blooming in the pit of your stomach.This is a new facet of Din you’ve never encountered. You aren’t naïve—even the most docile of people can harbor a temper, you know that. And you know Din is by no means passive—he’s an elite warrior equipped with a small arsenal at his disposal. You don’t expect him to coddle you or treat you different than any other companion; but…but it’s hard not to take his ire to heart. Not when it’s the kind of anger that boils deep in your chest and erupts with molten streams that leaves scathing wounds and blistered feelings.

You chew your lip hard enough to taste blood and avoid his piercing gaze. You think if you do you might catch fire and burn to a crisp. “I’m sorry.”

The meek apology settles in the air like a heavy fog. Din’s anger still brews, looming and dark but he reigns in his temper and switches out the searing cadence of his words with chilly informality. You’re not sure which is worse.

“No more bounties.”

“What?” Your brows knit together. The fuck does he mean.

“No more hunts alone—“

You interrupt with a scoff. “You’re grounding me?”

He strides across the small space and plants himself on the opposing wall. “Until you’re competent enough, you have no business being out in the field. You might as well be bait at this point.”

“Competent.” You echo through clenched teeth.

His helmet dips, leveling a steady glare of indifference. “The Crest is a half cycle’s walk from here. In the morning I’m taking you back to Nevarro.”

“I’m not a child. You can’t just,” you throw your hands up in dismay, “ban me from bounty hunting.”

Din’s armor clinks together as he moves to sit. He rests one elbow on his propped up knee, extends his other and rolls his helmet to meet your eyes. “Your actions reflect the Covert now. We can’t risk discovery because of one stupid mistake or a careless loose end.”

That hadn’t even crossed your mind. Stars, you want to smack yourself. Your ship, as shitty as it was, hosted a good chunk of sensitive information, all encrypted and translated into binary. A mediocre slicer could hack through it in hours. Not exactly foolproof but hey, at least you had something. Good thing your bounty wasn’t in the market of selling stolen ships to the Empire.

“Din?”

The Mandalorian makes no noise of affirmation that he heard you. You sigh and take his silence as a go ahead and clear your throat. “How long was I gone for?”

Here, in the cave it’s been nearly three days, but the rest of it you’re not exactly sure. Hunting the bounty down took up at least a week or two and even longer to capture her and there’s no accounting for the time lost after your ship was commandeered. Your teeth roll over your bottom lip as you wait for him to respond.

“Almost two months.” He replies evenly. “Your transmissions were cut three weeks ago and I didn’t think anything of it. Comms are always patchy in Wild Space."

Leather creaks as his fist balls at his side. “You didn’t answer for days. Paz and I tracked the ship to Sato 3, but you weren’t there. Do you know how difficult it was to pick through all the planets recorded on your log?”

You blink and return to picking at your fingernails.

“You weren’t easy to find, I—“ He severs the rest of his sentence with a crackling sigh and tilts his head back. “You’re lucky.”

The hesitance lacing his words makes you bite your tongue, the snarky retort crumbling to ash in your mouth. Din doesn’t bother to filter his words—he’s blunt. Efficient and to the point when he does decide to speak. That…well that was different.

He was worried—

You rub at your cheek—numb with the cold and curl into yourself. Din was worried. Easily the most feared bounty hunter in the parsec, worried that he couldn’t find you.

A different cold—one that settles deep into the marrow of your bones and hugs your soul with a sheet of frost, makes a home in your heart. The severity of what could’ve happened replaces that sheen of hilarity and fuck. You were closer to freezing to death than Din finding you here—alone in some stupid kriffing cave.

Somehow the idea of that is worse than the brief brush of eternal slumber you had on Nar Shaddaa. Up to that point you expected to die young—no harm and no foul in it either. You had no attachments, no debt to pay—a drifter in an endless galaxy.

Now you’re here, buckling under the weight of mismanaged friendships and your uncanny skill at weaseling into any and all trouble.

Neither you or Din jump to fill the silence. The ashes of disaster settle in nicely with the frozen echo of an endless winter.

It’d been a couple hours shy from sunset when Din arrived, the sun providing weak light that hardly touched the mouth of the cave. Now as the shadows grow longer and with the temperature dropping, the two of you are swallowed up by the unyielding darkness of night.

Din shuffles and fishes out the solar light from his supply bag. It clicks on and warm, orange light illuminates the cave. It bounces off his beskar, fracturing the light like a million tiny suns in the tempered metal and in the impossibly dark visor. He looks up, and tosses the light over.

You catch it easily and despite the warmness of the light it emits, it offers no heat for your chilled fingers. You set it to the side and tuck your hands into your armpits.

By no means is the cave warm—the natural thermal vents kept the ground dry and free of the ice and snow that rages outside, but it doesn’t protect you from the occasion chilly draft that cuts through each layer you wear. Then again, you weren’t planning on taking an unexpected vacation on Csilla. No time to plan really.

You sigh and pull your knees up to your chest and cast a glance at your ever radiant ray of sunshine across from you.

He looks nice and cozy—leaned back against the cave wall, one leg crossed over the other while his hands sit intertwined just below his navel. The beskar must provide insulation—maybe a fancy heater in that bucket of his, or maybe he’s just too stubborn to show anything other than indifference.

Another bout of shivers tear through your frame and you’re certain Din can hear the enamel of your teeth clack together. You shove your hands deeper into your armpits and tuck your chin into your chest to preserve heat and pray that sleep isn’t far off—can’t be cold if you’re unconscious.

Metal scrapes over stone as Din readjusts himself and you can feel him looking at you. It’s not a terrible weight to bear; intense and analytic, sure and in the past it would’ve unnerved you. Now, instead of it feeling like he were peeling back each fibre of your soul each time he stares, it’s familiar. A pattern of sorts—

It happens each time Din wrestles with an uncertain question. He deals in absolutes, and it’s no surprise he rarely knows what to say to you.

“You’re shivering,” he states. You roll your eyes. “Are you cold?”

“Boiling, actually,” you snip. “Why else would I forget a jacket?”

A sharp hiss of air crackles through the vocoder. “Don’t get mouthy with me. It was a simple question.”

“Well—there’s not much to do about it,” you sneer, watching your breath condensate in the air. “I’m freezing, exhausted, and hungry.”

You know you’re being snide—but your nerves feel like they’ve been severed at the root with a dull vibroblade. You have neither the time nor energy to spare for simple questions. Din should understand that—seeing as he’s a man familiar with short temperament.

The space between you is ripe with crackling tension, and maybe—if you weren’t so fucking cold—you’d play the mediator. Thread stitches into the gash you both sliced into your friendship, as small it may be. You’ve lost friends over less—this could end up no different.

You sigh and turn your head. This is a problem for tomorrow.

Irritated and upset, you squeeze your eyes shut and chase after sleep. You slip in a doze faster than expected, any and all discomfort fading away a you toe the line between a deeper sleep and waking dreams. You think you imagined Din saying your name—Maker you can’t even escape him in your own fucking head—

It doesn’t end—like a nagging buzz that swells until it’s right near your ear. Spite spurs you to ignore It and exhaustion convinces you to drift further away. That is, until a hand, gentle and warm curls around your shoulder. You once again hear your name rumble low through Din’s helmet, but it’s much too difficult to open your eyes. Why can’t he leave you be? You barely feel the cold now…

“Stay awake.” Din sounds distant, in some other plane of existence despite the steady hold he has on your arm. “Maker—you’re colder than kriffing ice.”

“Go away,” you grumble through numb lips. Such a pest.

He’s talking—but the words don’t make sense. Muddled—split between that hazy line of dreaming and consciousness where you can’t decipher what’s real. His hands however—you can feel those plain as day. A bare palm cups your cheek—shreds through the layer of frost you’re positive has crystalized over your skin and rouses you to a more coherent level of presentness.

“Don’t quit on me yet—“

“Nah,” you mumble. “I’m hard to…to kill. L-like a scrap rat…”

Din grunts in response. “Rat is a compliment. You’re more of a spider-roach.”

The ends of your mouth quirk. It’s the best you can do—a full smile just might push you to the brink of death.

“C’mon—I won’t let either of us freeze,” Din sighs. His fingers find the magnetized latches on his cuirass and it slips off with practiced ease, the armored thigh plating following a moment later. He neatly sets it to the side and grabs his cloak to fasten it around you. With another sigh, Din shuffles in behind you and wraps an arm around your middle, nestling his legs and body snuggly around yours.

Maker—you don’t have time to bother about the intimacy of this because all you’re drawn to is the furnace like heat. Fuck, he’s so warm. You have only a second to enjoy it before your body begins to thaw—bringing forth waves of achey pain.

His chest molds to your back, both arms curling over your own arms that are scrunched up tight around your chest. You shake in his hold, vicious waves of cold clashing against his body heat—it hurts—like sticking your bare foot into hot coals.

You squirm, little gasps of discomfort slipping out that echo around the cave. Din shifts, tucking you further under his body until he’s nearly crushing you. It’s a bit tricky to breathe like this but hey—you’re not complaining. Not when your nose is buried in his soft undershirt that smells purely of Din.

Your fingers and toes still throb as they thaw, but it’s working. Cuddling Din Djarin to stave off hypothermia—sounds kriffing ridiculous.

“You’re still shivering,” he says. “I might…”

Your breath catches in your throat as he trails off. “Might what?”

Another shiver wracks through your body as his frosty helmet catches on bare skin when he dips his head in embarrassment. You don’t quite catch what he says and he doesn’t bother to clarify. “Forget it.”

You turn your head as much as you can, straining your eyes to meet the strip of visor. “Tell me.”

He mumbles under his breath again and cuddles closer, slotting his hips against your ass. “Might know…know another way to keep us warm…”

Oh.

A spark breathes to life in the pit of your tummy. You wiggle onto your back, your nose brushing the vizor. “Does it involve me taking off my pants?”

Din huffs, his hands, previously latched onto your hips, starting to crawl up your waist. “It could…”

You smirk and rock your hips back, eliciting a low growl that rumbles through his chest. With your whine of approval, Din’s hand slips between your legs and gives the meat of your inner thigh a squeeze. You let your knees fall open as far as they can in this position and it’s all Din needs to cup your cunt through the thin material of your trousers.

Crackling pleasure flood your veins as the heel of his palm grinds into your clit, and while the pressure is nice, it does nothing to satisfy. Only feeds the growing flames of desire with brittle kindling.

You pull at his undershirt and whimper, thrilled once his deft fingers, calloused and thick unlace your pants and yank far enough down to fit his hand. His fingers trace your outer lips, a ghost of a touch as arousal swells in your stomach. He parts your folds once your wetness begins to dribble out and coats his fingertips with your arousal.

Stars—you need him. You arch into him and whine. “Touch me. Din, please—“

You jerk as Din’s thumb swirls a slow circle over your clit, a rush of endorphins surging out like unrefined fire whiskey. Din’s head tilts to watch you writhe over his fingers and the sudden chill of his helmet touching the inside of your flushed neck steals away your next inhale. Goosebumps race down your entire being, adding to the influx of your excitement that pools in your lower belly.

Your hands tangle into his undershirt, pulling him closer until you can’t find where he begins and you end. His heart pounds in his chest, thrumming to the dance of your own heart that yearns to break free from your ribcage. Your breath catches when two of his thick fingers tease at your entrance. Your walls flutter around him as the slip in easily.

His fingers roll forward and stroke against something devastating inside of you, and he when his palm rolls back, it bumps against your clit with that divine firmness you need. Your cunt tightens around the two digits as they curl.

“Fuck. Can you hear yourself?” He pants, groping your breast to elicit a high pitched wail. “You always make—make such pretty noises.”

Butterflies erupt in your stomach at his words and fuck. You’re already dipping head first into release. A moment later you’re arching into his chest as every muscle stiffens in a crescendo of bliss, your stuttered breathing harsh even to your own ears.

Your quick pants fog up his visor as Din rests the crown of his helmet on your forehead, the metal a cool relief to your flushed skin. He slips his fingers out of your dripping cunt, your chest still heaving with exertion as the last strands of your high fizzle and ebb away. Din shifts and and snakes his fingers, still shiny and wet with your arousal, beneath the lip of his helmet and sucks them clean with an appreciative groan.

“Fuck—“ You breathe, pushing your face into his hand as he cups your cheek. Din’s thumb brushes over your cheekbone and swings his leg over your hips to hoist himself over you.

“Do you remember...” He starts, his voice buzzing through the vocoder. His fingers tickle down your cheek and trace the parted outline of your lips. “When you let me taste you?”

You nod, and it’s all you’re able to do. You’re not even sure you can formulate words, let alone voice them right now.

Din’s thumb pulls at your plush bottom lip, and you can’t help but slide your tongue along the digit. He grunts and slips his thumb into the wet heat of your mouth. “I think about you every night…how you came on my tongue—”

Your stomach flips as a rush of arousal sweeps through your tummy. You groan and you’re half sure you’re gonna dissipate into the floor from how hot your cheeks burn. “Din—"

He continues without missing a beat.

“You were so fucking wet for me—dripped all over my hand,” he murmurs, nuzzling his helmet, still chilly and frosted over, into the crook of you neck. “I want to do it again—can I?”

You’re nodding before he even finishes his sentence. He wasn’t the only one longing for his head between your thighs on those long nights apart. Remembering those plush lips and addictive touches could only get you so far and well—he’s here now. You said it once and you’ll say it again—there’s no chance in hell you’d be passing up this opportunity.

Din lifts his head and as you watch the light glitter in the reflection of the beskar, a sudden stray thought ricochets into the forefront of your mind. “Din, the light—your helmet.”

He pauses, his body tensing as he mulls over his options. “It’s—I—it’s ok…It’ll be ok.”

Din inhales a stuttered breath and casts a brief glance over his shoulder. It’s a dim light, kicked into the corner and laying on its side. From this angle, his face would be partially obscured in shadow…but still. There are easier ways to go about this. Ways that don’t risk jeopardizing the very foundation of who he is—what he stands for and what he so devoutly follows.

To say you know anything about his religion is laughable. Everything you know can fit on the back of a thumbtack and even still, you’re sure that half of that is still based upon rumor and speculation. But this—what Din is hinting at, you know is not something to be taken lightly.

He’s stripping his soul bare for you—allowing you to glimpse at that bleeding heart of his he guards so securely within layers of flesh and bone and impenetrable beskar. Din is gifting you his trust and there’s no where else to put it except for the space beneath your breast bone.

Yet, even still—this could mean nothing at all. You have no way to know the exact magnitude of what this means to him. If he’s alright with this, who are you to question?

He mumbles one last thing about the light and sits up. Goosebumps rush up your bare skin at the loss of the heavy warmth of his body. You whine and curl up closer to his legs, greedy for any spare iota of heat like you’ve been denied it your entire life.

Maker you hate this fucking planet—

Your attention snaps back to Din when he makes a noise of uncertainty. His hands are cupped around his helmet—hesitant, nervous and you suspect if Din’s hands weren’t plastered so tight around the metal, he’d be shaking. You chew on your lip and prop yourself up.

Cautiously, so as not to startle, you reach up and curl your fingers around his wrist. You can feel his pulse thrumming through his veins—alive, flesh and bone like you. Not some heap of sentient metal built for the horrors of war. You don’t know why you do it—just seems right to pull the fragile and vulnerable skin of his inner wrist to you mouth. You plant a gentle kiss there and smile when he cups your cheek.

“You don’t owe me anything, Din,” you say, staring into the darkened depths of his visor. “Least of all this.”

Some of that tension held in Din’s shoulders melts. He utters something in that clipped language of his people, and the only thing you can make out is your name. He lurches foreword and fuck—you’re terrified for a split second he’s gonna cave your skull in but instead he lightly bumps the crown of his helmet over your forehead.

“I want to. For you—only you.”

Din doesn’t leave any time to unpack all of that. He sits up again, wraps his hands around the beskar—

The metallic thunk of the helmet reverberates through the cave like a crack of thunder.

You were right.

You can barely see his face—if you really look, you can see the murky outline of his nose, dark hair and a sliver of his tan skin that the light touches. Attractive—but you knew that already. You touch his cheek and smile, your thumb catching over wiry facial hair and soft skin. Din makes a sound low in his throat and pushes his cheek into your hand.

“I still want to taste you,” Din says, his voice richer when stripped of that tinny vocoder. You like listening to him speak without it, you think, and it’s a damn shame you never get to hear it. “Please.”

Before he can escape and fulfill that fantasy, you yank him into a blinding kiss. He kisses the same—all wild edges and with desperation lining each motion—but there’s a new found tenderness here. Like he’s savoring each gasp and every brush of skin you grace him with like it’s your last night left in the galaxy.

He breaks away from your mouth and peppers kisses and nips down your jaw, then lower as you arch and expose the bare skin of your throat. There’ll be a plethora of bruises tomorrow, and with no hope to cover them either but fuck it—Din can leave as many hickeys and teeth marks as he wants.

If not for the cold still latching onto your very soul, you’d ditch the shirt; give Din better access instead of him needing to shove a hand up under and grope at your breasts. He gives the fabric an annoyed tug, but it’s fruitless. There’s no use when there’s better things to be sought.

He shoves your shirt as far up as it goes, shivering as he mouths down your stomach, licks around your bellybutton and sucks a bruise onto your hipbone. Your pants are already pulled halfway down—one sharp yank and they’re around your ankles and off in the next breath.

Cupping your knees with both hands he gingerly spreads your legs and drapes them over his muscular shoulders. Din rubs his patchy haired cheek along your thigh and hooks his hands under your ass, his ivory white teeth catching the light as he smiles.

“Fucking perfect—“ He groans, planting his lips over your inner thigh. His tongue swipes a wet line up, stopping just before your aching cunt to dig his teeth into the sensitive flesh. You jump at the burst of pain and shoot a hand down, tangling your fingers into the soft curls atop his head.

Din grunts and jumps to your other thigh, leaving no inch of skin neglected and without evidence of his teeth and lips. By the time his thumbs touch the outer lips of your cunt, the aching need for him is burning you from the outside in. He has to still your twitching hips with a calloused palm, and only after you settle does he surge forward.

His tongue meets your swollen clit, ripping a tangled cry from you vocal cords. He’s just as eager as the first time he tasted you, if not more—every action backed by needy abandon. He sucks at the bundle of nerves then sweeps his tongue lower. Din’s thumbs part your lower lips as he runs his tongue though your soaked folds, the tip of his nose bumping against your clit that send delicious sparks throughout your whole body. Little noises and breathy gasps fill the cave, encouraging Din to push his tongue deep into your aching entrance.

Your hand fists into his hair as your hips stutter and rock into the searing heat of his mouth. The noises you make are obscene, and Din is no better. Each pass of his tongue over your pussy is matched with his own deep moans that vibrated against your clit. Fucking hell he’s devouring you alive.

Your orgasm sneaks up on you, robs you blind and crashes over you in deep waves that drag you out to sea and never to be found again as you spill onto his greedy tongue. Your fingers are threaded tight in his hair as you squeak and press harder into his mouth, riding out your pleasure until it shifts and becomes raw and sore.

Din doesn’t pause for even a second—all too happy to stay put between your thighs for eternity. Your legs are trembling when you force his head away, a nice, tingly warmth settling into your limbs

A dark thrill rushes down your spine when he looks up, wild hair and mouth covered in your slick. If not for the low lighting you imagine his eyes would be glazed over and Maker you want him again. Din swoops down and presses his mouth to yours, the taste of yourself heavy on his tongue that slips past the seem of your lips.

You whine after he breaks away and sits up—an opportunity for your eyes to roam down his body. He’s still got his trousers on, a considerable bulge tenting the front. With a smirk you reach up and grab a handful, delighting in Din’s startled grunt. “Easy.”

You flash him a wry smile and give his clothed cock a playful squeeze. “Take them off.”

Din huffs and pulls at the drawstrings. “Needy.”

He says it with no bite and no coquettish retort on your end springs to mind—especially when his thumbs hook into the waistband and pull. A slow reveal of sun-kissed skin and a sparse happy trail that your eyes eagerly drink up.

Din’s cock bobs as his trousers fall around his knees, tip shiny and wet and curling towards his navel. You bite the inside of your cheek and reach out, a rush of arousal pulsing through your core at Din’s low moan. He’s heavy in your hand, deliciously thick and throbbing—and all of it for you.

Din gasps out your name as you lightly squeeze and stroke down, your pace dreadfully slow and teasing. Who knows when you’ll get another chance like this—a Mandalorian willingly on their knees for you.

Your other hand slips up his chest as you stroke him, intent on grabbing a handful of his thick hair that curls softly against the column of his neck. Your fingernail lightly scrapes across his nipple and he sways, pitching forward before he catches himself and straightens. Din’s eyes are squeezed tight, chest heaving with shallow pants as a smirk tugs at your lips.

“It’s ok, Din,” you whisper. “I won’t break.”

Your fingers twist into the hair at the base of his skull and guide him back. He slumps forward with a sweet moan, laying his weight onto your body that you’re all too happy too bare. His nose is nestled into the slope of your neck as his hands lock around the dip of your lower back while the other cradles the back of your head, drawing you into a loose semblance of a hug.

Something snaps and crumbles deep in your soul that bleeds the heartstring blues, humming with broken chords in the presence of Din’s soft fragility. Your hand moves from between his legs to instead wrap around the wide expanse of his back, squeezing him tight to your chest. You hold each other like there isn’t tomorrow to look forward to and you wonder if this is how it feels to fall apart. Two spinning halves of a supernova torn apart and destined to collide and shatter into a million fragments of dazzling light.

Yes, you’re scared he might blind you or burn you with his brilliance, but you can’t look away.

Your fingers crawl up his muscled thigh and settle on his hip. “Lie down for me?”

There’s no hint of hesitation or complaint as he maneuvers himself onto his back, patiently allowing you to clamber over his legs and straddle his hips. His cock rests on your inner thigh, pulsing and leaving a dribble of wetness every time it twitches.

“Good boy.” It’s subtle but it ripples out like a heavy stone thrown into a still lake. Din shudders and says your name in a cracked whisper. He rolls his hips, both of you groaning at the sensation of his cock running along your dripping center.

Another time for that game maybe.

Your desperation is running hot and wild to have him inside you and you know he’s in a similar boat. You grab the thick shaft of his cock and grind the tip of him through your lips, breath hitching when it extracts such a perfect moan from the man below you.

“Ride me,” he pleads, clamping his large hands over your hips. “Fuck—I need you.”

How can you deny such a request?

You line the wide head up with your aching center and slowly work him in. Shivers wrack through you, and Maker—he’s splitting you apart, molding your insides to the shape of him. Beads of sweat dot your hairline by the time you’re seated fully on his member, the both of you pushed even closer towards madness.

Din squeezes your ass and props his knees up, rolling his hips up into you. You whimper and tip forward, propping your palms over his chest as he sets the pace. You may be on top but there’s no changing the bold colors of power and lust that cloud his mind, fueling the brutal movements of fucking up into you. Your thighs burn already and Maker—why the fuck are you already tired? You’re not doing any of the work.

Quicker than lightning, Din curls forward and manhandles you onto your back. You squeak as he grips your thigh and yanks it around his narrow hips, thrusting in deeper. His right hand crawls up the front of your shirt and wraps his fingers around your throat in a loose hold. His thumb hovers over the dip at the base of your neck but he makes no move to press down—just allows the weight of his palm to do the work. And fuck—it works.

Choked garbles of his name pass through your lips as you buck and squirm in his hold, feeling your arousal begin to drip down the back of your thighs. You’re skirting the edge of sizzling release that alights your nerves with liquid wildfire. Your nails harpoon into the meat of his shoulders as your eyes squeeze shut. Din won’t allow it.

“Look at me,” Din snarls, yanking your head back by your hair. “I want to—to watch you cum for me.”

A blush scalds your cheeks but you listen. Your eyes flutter open for him, sliding to the dark shadows of his eyes that sweep you into their own gravity well with no hope to escape. You don’t mind.

“You’re so g-good for me—always so perfect.”

White hot light bursts behind your eyelids, and that’s all it takes. Your body seizes, your cunt squeezing impossibly tight around his cock as you cum. This one is different—steals your breath away and leaves you a broken husk of a person lost in most delectable forms of agony and pleasure. The cry of his name pierces the air only spurring the Mandalorian into a jarring pace to seek his own peak of ecstasy.

Din’s nose nuzzles into your neck, his pants hot and sharp against your flushed skin. “You f-feel so—fuck. Say—say my name.”

You leap to his request and with a playful nip to his earlobe, you whisper it to him with the sweetness of starcherrries and the promise of better things.

He tips over the edge, his hips faltering into no discernible pace as he cums. Din buries his teeth into the skin below your jaw, a mess of whines and begging gasps of nonsense as he fills your cunt to the brim.

Your harsh breathing mingles as you both lazily slip down from your high. He rests his head over your sternum, listening to your beating heart that drums in a wild staccato as your fingers carefully comb through his hair. If not for the ache in your hips you’d keep him here forever. Din pulls out and you both groan at the loss.

He doesn’t completely move away and you’re glad for it. He brushes his knuckles down the expanse of your cheek and dots a tender kiss to your hairline. Your name rumbles low in his throat as he shifts lower and gives your ear lobe a playful nip. His stubble scrapes along your neck, and you can’t help but giggle and squirm—but the weight of his body keeps you pinned. Your name slips from his lips a second time, breathy and drawn out in a sweet sigh, like he’s savoring the sound of each syllable and roll of the tongue.

Din lifts his head, only slightly—near enough that his nose bumps into yours and his lips scrape along yours that are still parted and wet. “I—can I tell you something?”

You cup his cheek and steal a kiss. It’s supposed to be quick—but instead he leans into it, guiding your mouth into a slow dance of sticky sweet movements that are caught in a slow draw, like crystalized honey abandoned in a glass jar. You’re enraptured by his touch—his skin mottled with scars yet somehow still unfairly soft. He smells of snow—like metal and soap and something gentler, that’s uniquely Din.

Fuck—you can feel your mind slipping away, wrapped up so snugly in his presence you almost forget to answer. “Yeah—anything.”

Crackling static suddenly rips through the cave, startling you both. A distorted voice chatters on the comlink that lies forgotten beside your pants. It blinks and the transmission ends just as abruptly. With a sigh Din brushes it off and tilts his head to tempt you into another kiss but—

Whoever’s trying to patch through is persistent.

His lip curls in a scowl and snatches the comm. “Jorhaa’ir.”

You only catch your name being mentioned twice as rapid Mando’a is exchanged. Aeris maybe judging by the tone, but no that’s not right.

“Wait—is that Paz?”

The muscles in Din’s shoulders tense, confirming your suspicion.

“Is everything ok?” Din doesn’t resist you when you pry the comlink out of his fingers and patch in. “Paz?”

Your heart skips a beat.

“There you are,” the comlink crackles and you smile. “You’re a pain in my ass, you know that?”

Stars—you didn’t think you’d miss hearing Paz’s voice. Your chest aches.

The conversation is short, he asks you how you are and when you’re coming home and in the time it takes to answer, Din is peeling himself from your body. While you're distracted, he pulls on his pants and sits at the edges of your vision.

You both pretend when you say goodnight to Paz, return the comlink and crawl into his arms that nothing has festered with savage detachment. You don't remember to ask him what he was going to say and he lets you forget. The golden heart that bleeds molten ichor slips from your sight and becomes shut behind walls of beskar and bushes of thick thorns and overgrown ivy.

He still holds you, but it’s the coldest you’ve ever been.

Tag List: @teaofpeach @corrupt-fvcker @nelba @datmando @ben-is-a-hoe @dreams-like-clockwork @aeryns-library @auty-ren @huliabitch @anxiety-riddled-mando @phoenixhalliwell @cptnbvcks @thesoftdumbass @krissology @starlite41 @legally-a-bastard @basslinedweller @cloud-of-roses @elenamiria @goldafterglow @maybege @equalstrashflavoredtrash @wandxrlust @hdlynnslibrary @calamity-queen @sgtbookybarnes @pinkninja190 @lackofhonor @darthstyles @spacegayofficial @absurdthirst @blue-writes-a03 @max--phillips

#din is a certified bottom #ANYWAY welcome to pound town #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #din djarin x reader x paz vizla #paz vizla x reader #paz vizla x you #paz vizsla x reader #paz vizsla #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian #star wars #sw #fanfiction #sw fanfiction #my writing #are you in or out?

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atlabeth · 3 years

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Can I get a Fluff with scenes 12 , 19, and 20 for Sokka x fem reader. They plan a date and get ready for it. Sokka and the gaang are amazed on how Y/N looks for their date.

you look perfect - sokka x fem!reader

a/n: this was such a cute request ive been writing so much angst lately that i needed some fluff lol. i played w the request a little and once again i wrote way too much but i hope you still like it!!

wc: 1.7k

warning(s): only a little bit of insecurity on the reader’s side but the rest is all fluff :))

12. “It looks good on you.” 19. “How did I manage to get you?” 20. “Maybe I’m just lucky.”

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

“Are you guys sure that this goes with the dress?” Y/N looked at herself in the mirror uneasily as Suki finished up her eyeshadow, fiddling anxiously with her hands in her lap. Katara was working magic on her hair, styling it to perfection, and Toph was sitting on a beanbag in the corner of her room to offer moral support. She had called her girls over to help her get ready for her date with her boyfriend; they had been more than happy to help her out and gossip together, but nerves were once again getting the better of her.

It had only been a little over a year since she had been silently pining for Sokka — ever since he had walked into the lecture hall on their first day of classes, she had been drawn to him. It didn’t help that he had chosen a spot right next to her — this was a class essential for half the majors at the university, so he didn’t have very many choices coming in right before the clock — but that easy smile he shot at her before taking out his laptop made her feel some kind of way.

They ended up getting paired together for their first project, and they became friends in no time. Doing projects together turned into studying together, and they had been spending a lot of time together at various cafes and libraries in preparation for their midterm. Y/N had been wanting to ask Sokka out for a while, but she was so scared of messing up their friendship that she just settled for it. After all, he was an amazing friend and had become one of her closest ones, so it was hardly settling. Luckily for her, she ended up not having to make the first move.

“Hey, Y/N.” She hummed in response to let Sokka know she had heard him, but didn’t look up from her laptop. “I was wondering if you wanted to hang out tomorrow?”

“Oh, I think that would be great! Our midterm is on Wednesday, so if we fit in another long study session tomorrow we’ll have Monday and Tuesday to take it all in and do some last-minute preparations.”

“No, no studying.” That got her attention and she stopped her rapid typing, being met with that same easy smile he gave her the day they met when she looked up. “Just.. the two of us, together. I could take you out to lunch, and you could have something that isn’t coffee for once.”

Now Y/N was really paying attention. She almost couldn’t believe what she was hearing, and she was unable to stop the wide smile playing on her lips. “Sokka, are you asking me out?”

He laughed and nodded, giving her a similar smile but with a hint of nervousness in it. “Yeah. Yeah, I am.”

Y/N set her hand on the table and Sokka set his on top of it, intertwining his fingers with hers. “You don’t even know how much I’d love to go out with you.”

“For the thousandth time, yes!” Suki nodded, pleased with her work, and started to clean up the palettes that she had laid all over the floor. “You know I would never do you wrong.”

“I know that Suki, but.. This isn’t something that I usually wear, what if he doesn’t like it? What if he thinks I’m trying too hard? I usually don’t even do makeup, but I really wanted—”

“Y/N, stop!” Her eyes snapped over to Toph, who came over and put her hands on her shoulders. “Remind me what you’re getting ready for, again?”

Toph’s brutal honesty was one of the things Y/N appreciated most about her, and bringing her back down to Earth was something she needed desperately right now. “A date with my boyfriend?”

“Yes, and what is that date celebrating?”

“...our one year anniversary.”

“Exactly!” Toph clapped her on the shoulder a lot harder than she needed to, and Y/N let out a surprised laugh. “You’ve been dating him for a year, this man is totally and completely whipped for you! You literally have nothing to worry about.”

“I know, but still! What if he doesn’t like this shade, or you’re all lying and this actually doesn’t bring out my eyes, and—”

“Y/N, please. Look at me.” Katara’s voice interrupted her ramble, and Y/N met Katara’s eyes, finding a lifeline in the ocean she carried within them. She started playing with the ring on her finger again — it was a promise ring that Sokka had given her half a year into their relationship, and she never took it off. It was one of her most treasured possessions, and just holding it helped her worries fade away a bit.

“I know my brother, and I know how he feels about you.” Katara finished off Y/N’s hair and took a seat on the floor in front of her. “After that first day in class with you, he told me about this beautiful girl he met in his calculus class. He said, ‘something about her seemed so inviting, so I sat next to her. I even lied about forgetting my pencil so that I would get to talk to her, even just for a second.’”

Y/N smiled to herself, already feeling her cheeks heating up. Sokka had told her about that on their first date, and she remembered how shocked she was that he had thought about her when they first met in the same way she did. “I remember that. He told me how nervous he was to ask me out, and that was just crazy to me. He carries himself so confidently and he’s just so smooth in everything that he does.. The thought of him getting nervous over me is so cute.”

“Everything is going to be fine, okay? You look absolutely fantastic in every way possible. I’ll be surprised if he’s even going to be able to take his eyes off of you. Everyone is going to be looking at you when you look like this.” Suki patted Y/N on the cheek and smiled, and her nerves finally settled, but only for a moment. There was a knock on the door and Y/N took a deep breath, shaking her hands out as she gave her friends a desperate look. She felt the same way that she did the time he came to pick her up for their first date — childish joy and excitement all playing together to form some very big butterflies in her stomach.

“Go get your man, Y/N!” Toph hit her on the shoulder and Y/N laughed, running out of her room so she could get to the door. She took a second to compose herself before opening the door, revealing the image of her boyfriend in a simple sports coat and slacks — it was one of the most basic combinations, but Sokka made it look like he was walking out of a luxury store. He was holding a bouquet of flowers, and he perked up when she opened the door.

“Sokka! You have perfect timing, I just finished getting ready.” She opened the door wider so that he could come in if he wanted to and gasped. “Are those flowers?”

Sokka didn’t say anything, his mouth parted like he wanted to say something but just couldn’t find the words. His wide eyes traveled up and down, looking at her makeup, her hair, her outfit, the way her eyes sparkled when she talked, and that gorgeous smile that had drawn him in from the start. She was completely and utterly perfect, and it was like his brain was shutting down trying to think of how to communicate it to her.

“What?” Y/N looked down at her outfit and pulled at the fabric, mentally kicking herself and already starting to walk back to her room. She was convinced he didn’t like it. “You know, I wasn’t really into this anyways, I can change if you just give me a second—”

Sokka grabbed her wrist and pulled him back to her, stopping her rambling with a heated kiss. Y/N practically melted as she returned it, and was completely breathless when she pulled away.

“What was I saying?” She asked, slightly dazed.

“Your dress,” he said with a chuckle. “It looks good on you. You look so good, so.. perfect. I just forgot how to talk for a while there.”

Y/N smiled shyly and rubbed her arm, all the insecurity from before dissipating. She always wanted everything to be perfect for her boyfriend so that he would understand how much she loved him, but Sokka loved her, not the clothes she wore or the way she did her hair. Of course, she looked drop dead gorgeous tonight, but to him, she was always perfect. “How did I manage to get you?”

“I ask myself that every time I look at you.” Sokka grinned and held out the flowers, his eyes following her as she set them in a nearby vase. He then pulled her into the hallway with him, allowed Y/N to close the door before they started walking down the hallway together. “And the only thing I can come up with, the only reason that someone like you could fall into my life, is that maybe I’m just lucky.”

“I think it was fate. I truly believe that we were meant to meet because.. I just can’t imagine my life without you. I’ve loved you since that first bad joke you made to me during class, and this has undoubtedly been the best year of my life,” Y/N mused.

“I knew it was only a matter of time before you fell for me after I pulled out the comedy.” He laughed and gave Y/N a cheeky smile as he held the door to exit the complex open for her, the cool night air doing nothing to help her flushed cheeks.

“You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me, Y/N. Happy anniversary.” Sokka’s eyes softened as he looked at her, leaning in to give her a kiss on the lips before they continued. “I can’t wait to celebrate so many more of these with you.”

And as they walked into the parking lot towards Sokka’s car, hands intertwined together, his thumb rubbing against hers, and her lips still burning from where he kissed her, Y/N wondered what she had ever been worried about.

#sokka #sokka fic #sokka x fem!reader #sokka x reader #atla #avatar #atla fic #avatar fic #avatar the last airbender #avatar the last airbender fic #sokka x you #writing #blurb #one shot #sokka blurb #atlabeth 100 followers #sadie writes

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heysatori · 3 years

Note

Can you write about the Bakusquad, you know each of them, where y/n has been through a lot of heartbreaks and is unsure about relationships, but they reassure y/n that they won't do that and everything will be fine? And maybe a little fluff in the end for good measure.

Bakusquad reacting to y/n being scared of getting into a relationship genre: fluff, angst pairings: Bakugou x reader, Kirishima x reader, Sero x reader, Kaminari x reader, Ashido x reader a/n: sorry i responded to this a little late! all ive been doing is watching minecraft streams, watching anime and sleeping while balancing school work ehe (⌒_⌒;) but thank u sm for the request ! i hope this satisfies ur request ! disclaimer that the pictures im using arent mine ! they are from heroacacaps ! so credits to them ! if u guys want to scream at me u can dm me here or on my twitter ! @kodzusan (´｡• ᵕ •｡`) ♡ im still accepting requests

Bakugou Katsuki

both you and bakugou were scared of relationships for different reasons

bakugou was scared because he knew how rough he was around the edges, if he was even fit to be in nice relationship

you on the other hand were scared of relationships because of the amount of heartbreaks youve been through

you were cheated on, broken up with, ghosted, and just left hanging

after all those mistakes you learned ur lesson !

so after having bakugou come up to you, courting you in the nicest way possible (giving you a bowl of your favorite food), you didnt know how to react

on surface level, katsuki had quite a few red flags here and there

but since you had gotten to know the boy a little better over the course of time, you learned to understand why he is the way he is

you trusted bakugou

so having him court you was surprising

although u had the fattest crush on him, you still didnt know what to do

so instead of refusing him with no reason, you explained your past to him (parts of which he already knew)

he understood completely, all he wanted was to treat you right and make you happy !!

“listen y/n, i know im a little rough around the edges, but i promise you that i wont do any of that stupid shit to you! all of your exes are absolute fuckin’ dumbasses for doing that to you and im here to treat you right and make you the happiest youve ever been! if you’ll let me”

ヽ( `д´*)ノ <- he blushes a little at the end

although wary, u trust him 1000% !!

so you accept his offer !!

hes pretty shocked that you accepted and instantly pulls you in a hug !

“thank you, i promise you fucking wont regret this”

Kirishima Eijirou

you had honestly fallen for eijirou the moment you met him

but with your considerable bad love life you decided against pursuing after him

but u couldnt help but feel urself get drawn towards him !

and surprise surprise ! you two become great friends !

but as time passes by, ur feelings for him become stronger, which is the total opposite of what u wanted (╯︵╰,)

so its an even bigger surprise when kirishima comes up to you with your favorite flower, asking you to be his significant other

he was so sweet but u were too scared to get into another relationship !

even though u and ur exes were in middle school at that time, those things still hurt you

you explain all of this carefully to the redhead, not wanting to hurt his feelings

he feels tears spring to his eyes as you tell him about your past

he just wants to make you happy !

so without thinking, he pulls you into a hug

“im so sorry that happened to you! you dont have to get with me if your scared! but just know that i wont ever, ever do those things to you! all i want is to make you happy, but its alright if you say no, ill still be here for you no matter what”

overwhelmed with emotions, you end up tearing up as well, melting in his bear hug

not wanting to make such a rash decision in the height of your emotions you tell the red head you’ll think about it (strongly hinting that you want to say yes)

Sero Hanta

sero is a very chill man so your attraction to him was a little unexpected

but you admire him a lot for a lot of things that he does !

u keep ur attraction to him on the down low though

it felt a little one sided for a while

you two barely interacted and he didnt even look at you most of the time

but your relationship with him took a sudden turn and u two became close friends !

you two bonded over mangas that you both read, occasionally spending time in his room to read the latest releases together !

one day, sero invited you to his room to read a romance manga he found out about a few days prior

you come over and end up sharing the book since you didnt have ur own copy

when you and sero reach a panel where the main characters aka the lovebirds finally kissed for the first time, the tall boy looked over to you

“wish i could do this with you” he said gently

NOTHING could explain how surprised u were !!

“are you serious?”

“of course i am”

at this you explain to sero that although you reciprocate the feelings, relationships are a little rocky for you considering your past relationships

sero wraps an arm around you and pulls you to his side, burying his nose in the side of your head

“thats fine, you dont have to say yes, just you knowing that i like you is good enough for me, just know that i wouldnt ever think about doing those stupid things to you, but if i can make you happy now, then im already doing a great job”

Kaminari Denki

kaminari was a very sociable boy !! so it was impossible that you two werent friends after a few months you start to notice the way your cheeks tend to heat up when ur around the blond

other people were also very aware at how when you and kaminari were together, both of you became blushing messes

they didnt talk about it though

they wanted the two oblivious dumbasses to figure it out themselves - ehem bakugou

one day though, kaminari comes knocking at your door, looking ridiculously shy

“uhm hi! i uh, i was, uhm, wondering if you maybe wanted to date me?”

before you could even process what he said, he immediately took it back

“wait no! uhm well i mean i like you a lot, thats why im asking! like a lot alot! i love your smile and your laugh and everything and i just, like making you happy, it makes me super duper ultra happy!”

although u want to accept denkis offer, your horrible dating life was looming over you

with this, you quietly tell denki that you dont think relationships are your thing

he doesnt hesitate to ask you why !

you unwillingly tell him about your stupid relationships and hes quick to retaliate your self degrading words

“hey! you arent stupid alright? you were young, things have changed! you’ve changed! i dont wanna force you into anything but just know, even if im a dumbass i wont treat you like that, ever! in fact, ill even be the best relationship youve ever had!”

he pulls you into a hug not long after, squeezing you tight against his chest

“i trust you, sure, ill date you” (*˘︶˘*).｡.:*♡

Ashido Mina

mina is a very determined person !

so when she wants something, she’ll get it one way or another

so when she realized her big fat crush on you, she knew immediately that she wanted to date you

and it wasnt just something about you, it was everything about you!

the way you stand, laugh, smile, talk, even if ur just sitting at your desk nodding off into sleep, she still thinks your the most amazing person ever (￣ε￣＠)

she doesnt hesitate to approach you after she is absolutely SURE about her feelings towards you

youre shocked of course, but you couldnt deny that you harbored feelings towards mina either

you reluctantly tell her that although the feelings were mutual, you were still scared of getting into a relationship

she listens carefully as u tell her about your past, rubbing your arm as comfort as you reveal a few of your insecurities

“you didnt deserve any of that, i hope you know that! you dont have to say yes or anything, i dont want you to feel forced or pity, but i can treat you so much better that all of those jackasses! but we dont have to date for that, i can still do those things as a loving and good friend!”

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cadykeus-clay · 3 years

Text

remember a few days ago when i said i was writing a collection of mismatched scenes of all the times that I think jester and caleb should have just kissed on the mouth? hehe :)

“Caleb, can you hear through it?” she’s yelling, head tilting and eyes squinting as she looks at the one-way glass he’s just apparated in the middle of the hall. She leans in, scrunching her nose and sticking out her tongue a little as she detectives. “Can we come into it?”

He grins, he can’t help himself. “Only you.”

“Do we just hit the side of it or -”

Her fingertips press through the barrier, disrupting the near-transparent bubble with a ripple and he reaches out his hand for hers, guides her in. Her mouth makes the cutest little oh! shape as she passes through and she can see what he’s seeing.

“Caleb. This is so COOL!”

The grin hasn’t dropped from her face, and it spreads infectiously across his.

“I’ve been working on this for weeks,” he says, smacking his legs with triumphant fists.

Her grin gets even wider, sharing in that joy. A few more silent moments pass, as she takes it in with awe.

“So, can anyone come in, or like, only people you like, or … ?”

He thinks for a moment, grins slyly. He sticks a finger out, just barely missing her nose. “You can come in.”

She leans towards him, returning the affection he seems to be offering. She gets close to his face, on purpose. She likes making him blush. “That means you like me.”

Blush he does. It’d be near impossible not to - they’re alone and unseen together, and she’s leaning towards him, her grin pushing up the freckles on her cheeks he’d love to try and count. And he’s tired, exhausted, barely functional. He’s got no strength left to carry all the layers he usually hides himself behind, but it’s alright, it’s only Jester looking anyways.

She hasn’t pulled her face back yet, like she’s waiting for him to do something. Tease.

Even after everything they’ve both seen these past few days, fear seems gone for just a second. They’re safe inside their shell, and no one’s watching. It would be so easy to just lean down, steal a moment to remind her that he cares, remind her that he’ll always care, remind her that he did this to keep her safe, take her mind off why.

It would be so easy ...

******

II.

“Can we like. Stick things through the bubble?”

“Uh. Ja, you can put your weapons through it, but no magic can come in or out. But you can leave and come back any time you want.”

“Okay. Just checking.”

She tries to hide the wince in her face as she nods a bit too heartily, jostling the half-healed slash across her chest left from panther-like claws. He notices. She notices him noticing, notices the way his brow furrows even deeper.

“But, please. No walkabouts when we are sleeping, okay?”

He looks up at her through those drawn-together brows when he says it, pleading more than he really needs to. She learned that lesson. But it’s still sweet to see how much he cares.

He’s been caring a lot lately, come to think of it. Chatting with her on the boat. Checking in. Making sexy jokes when they’re supposed to be stealthing. Doing a very bad job of hiding his attempts to make sure she laughed at it.

“I’ll stay right here. I promise.” She settles back onto her hands, hoping it’ll bring a little relief to the pain starting to spark across her ribs.

“Well. That’s good enough for me.”

And he pauses for a second, just a second, like he’s giving her an invitation to double down on that promise, make sure he knows she knows someone cares, and who someone is, and that someone else cares back.

It would be so easy …

******

III.

When she was little and read a lot of fairy tales, she’d often think about kissing a beautiful boy in a beautiful room full of paintings and tapestries and a billion things on shelves that glittered just to be pretty, and the light would somehow be reflecting off all of them at once, and his shirt would be off for reasons, and it would be glorious.

The tunnel they're in can’t really constitute as a room, but the way the crystals shimmer even in the dim glow of the Dancing Lights, rippling all around them is arguably better than shiny decorations. Caleb certainly can constitute as a beautiful boy. After all, she’s just admitted he is neither stinky nor dirty anymore. And arm wraps aren’t quite the same as a shirt, but he has taken part of his clothes off in front of her.

Creepy snails and the third day without daylight weren’t her romantic vision, sure. But. She feels safe here, with him, and she hopes he feels safe with her. She had meant what she had said, a few days back, when he spilled his fears and his history on the floor of their wagon. She didn’t think he was a bad person. And the way he looked at her when she said it, man, he wanted to believe it. He wanted to believe it so bad.

She ought to let him know. She ought to tell him, again, that she believes in goodness in him. She believes in love in his heart. She ought to tell him right now, in this glittering cave with his heart and arms bare before her. She ought to tell him in a way where he can’t argue back ‘cause his face will be preoccupied.

It would be so easy …

*******

IV.

“YOU GUYS!”

She practically burst the door to their new ally’s house down with excitement when she got back, holding out the little striped carrying box in front of her like it’s the coolest loot they’ve ever found. She bounces on her toes, making it hard for anyone to get a real look at the confections inside.

“What do you have?” he asks, knowing she wants to tell him.

“Cupcakes!” she beams back.

“A lot of them, or?”

She flips the lid up and pushes her nose nearly into the icing topping as she examines the haul. “Well I have thirteen here, so … one, two, three -”

He almost says the numbers along with her. Counting things and making Jester smile are both muscle memory at this point.

“ - six, so good! That’s one for each of you and the rest for me!”

He looks in the box properly now, the counting having slowed her jitteriness enough for him to try and piece out flavors. There’s some dark ones that could be chocolate, but he doubts it, and some that are paler, dotted with blue. He reaches for a blueberry one, and takes a cautious bite.

“Caleb,” she says, pouting, and he’s worried he wasn’t supposed to try one, “you are Missing. Out.”

She sticks her face in towards him, to make sure he can get a good look at this reprimand. She’s got a little bit of icing stuck in the corner of her mouth.

“You can get blueberry cupcakes anywhere.”

He keeps his eyes trained on her, longer than he really ought to, but he’s trying to figure it out.

Is that a challenge, Lavorre? Is that a promise?

It would be so easy...

*******

She has to get up on her tip toes to reach the shelf where they keep the scribing paper, pulling the stack towards her so she can count out sheets.

“About 300 gold?”

“Mmm.”

She counts out the sheets, thumbing them forward into a little pile that she pulls apart, before stretching up to push the rest back onto the shelf. She turns on her heel and marches for the front counter. He lingers a moment to straighten the pile on the shelf, and trails after her.

His gaze is buried in the inside of his coat as he searches for his coin purse. His hands are still buzzing, just a little, from where she held them earlier and promised him she’d be at his side. He can’t stop thinking about it. It’s distracting him from getting his coins.

The distinctive clink of metal on countertop jerks his gaze up just as he reaches his hand in for the first coin. She’s already dropped the gold in a neat little pile, pleasantly smiling at the clerk as she snaps the clasp on her purse shut.

“That’s very generous of you,” he says, hand still frozen holding his own money.

She swings around, flashing a thumbs up and a grin. She holds it a little too long for comical effect. Of course, he snickers.

She turns to the paper on the countertop, making to gather it in her arms, but he starts, and she turns back to face him. He’s frozen there, hand just barely outstretched for her, mouth agape like he was going to say something.

What is there to say? What can he possibly say to her, to repay everything she’s ever said to him? What can he say that’s worth the sound of her laugh, and the way her tongue sticks out a little when she smiles? What’s worth the way she brightens up a room even when she’s grumpy, the bubble to his gloom?

What measures up to a tap on his shoulder as he turns to leave his study, and hands in his as she swears, with the most somber honesty he’s ever seen, that she watched him face what he could have been, tied up like a feral beast in a prison cell, and she stares in his eyes and tells him it’s ok, she saw it and loved him even through it, and then bought him presents afterwards just because?

He’ll never deserve her, he swears.

She’s still looking at him, expectantly, and his mouth is still stuck open, and his hand is still halfway between the two of them. Maybe it’s just him, but the memory of her holding it seems to be burning even hotter.

He tries to say something again, and the words aren’t coming out. She’s still waiting on him, expression starting to tip towards worry as he tries and fails to express just how overflowed his heart is right now. He can’t say it but gods, she ought to know how much she’s worth to him. Maybe he can just show her. He’ll tell her later.

It would be so easy …

******

VI.

The hallway is orange. Pale, warm, sort-of-translucent orange, swirling about her in patterns of lollipops and unicorn hamsters. Her own spells wrapped in the tender grip of his magic, handed to her with something like reverence.

I believe, he had said, I have no choice.

He’d done little things like this before, casting spells to make her and everyone else happier, letting her play with his cat because it made her smile. But he said he’d been working on this for weeks. Pouring time and sweat and his precious paper into making this thing, just for her. Everyone liked to tease her about the Traveler and how it was totally a cult, and usually she let it roll off her back, even if it stung a little on impact. And Caleb was here, telling her he took her belief in the Traveler at face value, simply because it was hers.

I don’t know anything about faith, he had said, I am learning from you.

He was a suspicious man. She knew that. He held grudges, and he mistrusted, and he had every right to. And yet all these months, he’s been putting everything he had in her hands, sure that she would not drop it. She would hold it as gently as she could.

I am the transmutation wizard, he had said, but you are the one who changes people.

How was he supposed to know that was what she was afraid of, leaving no mark on the world at all? How was he supposed to know she made art everywhere she got the chance to in hopes that she would stop being erased, start existing outside of one little room and a handful of people?

He wouldn’t have any reason to, except for he knew her so well, better than nearly anyone. He could tell when doubt was crawling up out of her gut, spilling its black tendrils from her mouth and across her eyes. He could see when the veneer got scratched, and he knew how to brush it just so, so it looked okay again. He knew how to comfort her.

“It’s beautiful.”

She knows it’s barely anything, but she doesn’t know what else to say. It caught her by surprise, and she’s reeling a little in the aftermath of seeing just how far he’s willing to go for her.

He says something else, she barely processes, but it’s enough to get her babbling about some kind of performance. She trips over her words a little, she’s just so excited. He can tell, he smiles, and that just makes her heart jump even more.

“But you have done so much for m- for all of us,” he says, and he’s not sneaky.

For me. She knows he was going to say it. For me.

Tears are almost brimming in her eyes, happy ones, and he put them there. Done so much for her, she thinks, has he counted how much he’s done for me? She’s clasping her hands at her mouth, trying to keep all her feelings from coming out at once.

He doesn’t know the half of it, everything he’s done for her. To make her feel safe, to make her feel smart, to make her feel seen, to make her feel believed in. He doesn’t know it at all, and yet the hallway is orange as a testament to how much he’s done, and she can’t let the sentiment go unreturned.

It would be so easy …

*******

VII.

“Didn’t go as well as you were hoping?”

His voice seems to startle her, as if she’d forgotten in her sadness that there were other people around her. He knew the feeling.

“In some ways it went better?” she says, doubting it even as it leaves her mouth. “But. No.”

His face softens. It’s the only thing he can do, really.

Her breath is coming out shaky.

“I can’t speak for him,” he starts, offering what little encouragement he can, “but you do have us.”

“I know,” she answers, grateful even through the sadness.

“So, whatever you land on. Jester.” He stops for a second, letting her name linger in his mouth. “We will make it happen.”

She nods, curt, tears still pricking in her eyes. “I have to figure out what I want to land on.”

He laughs, hollow and breathy, what else is there to do. He starts to reach his hand out for her, and catches it, his own hesitance getting the better of him.

He knows what he wants her to land on, he’s known for … longer than he really cares to admit. He knows he’d follow her to hell and back, that’s why he’s here on this island with her.

He knows how hard it is to love without a compass to direct it. He knows that moonlight makes selfishness a much more appealing color.

It’s dark, and he’s hopelessly in, and she’s searching for a place to not be so alone. He could show her a place to land.

It would be so easy …

******

VIII.

He’s holding it out to her, a black ball clutched between his fingertips, just a little iridescent in the blazing sun overhead. He’s grinning, and his eyes are bright. He looks so happy, for just this moment, with a pearl in his hand.

Forget the water pouring down their faces as they come up from the murk, plastering their hair to their foreheads at odd angles. Forget the wrench in both their guts about the monster brewing beneath their feet and in their minds. Forget the clothes sticking to their skin in all the wrong spots. Forget the sounds of their friends arguing twenty feet back.

She jumped in the water with him for a reason, because he wanted pearls, and she wanted him to be happy, and he’s holding one out to her right now because he is, and that’s all she could really ask for.

Maybe it’ll be extra wet and slippery. Maybe it’ll taste like salt and seaweed and that weird fish stink that all bodies of water seem to have. Maybe her hands are covered in sand and they’ll get some in their mouths and it’ll be disgusting.

Who cares? She jumped in the water with him and he’s happy.

It would be so easy …

******

IX.

The funny thing is, when she was little, she actually planned her wedding in this room. The canopy bed would double as the altar, gauze draping about them and the window lighting them from the back as they knelt with their hands together, wrapping them up with silk ribbon as someone spoke some formal rites. Mama would sit in the guest of honor chair at Jester’s desk, a tear running down her cheek as she watched her baby girl marry the love of her life.

Now Caleb’s in here with her and she’s realizing there’s no good angle to get the window backlight and be in full view of her Mama.

He’s lying down on the bed, because she told him to. She’s flopped down next to him, squirmed up into his side with the excuse of “small bed” but the intent of “I like the way I rest against your side”.

He’d commented on her array of books - she knew he would. She may or may not have pulled the smarter looking titles up to the front a few visits ago, just in case.

He’d looked at her artwork too, spanning the walls in all its multicolored glory. He’d bent down to get a good look at her earliest, shittiest paintings. But not in the way where he wanted to see how bad they were, to laugh at. In the same way he looked at new artifacts they’d picked up along the road, as he traced his runes for Identify. Like he was trying to glean a missed history out of them, to get to know just a little bit more about what was in front of him now.

So she’s curled into his chest, careful with her horns, wrapping her hand over his to point out every last detail. Her other hand falls to his stomach, her fingers brush his, and neither of them pull away.

She always figured they’d fall like this, her and her husband, backward onto the bed after the ribbon was knotted to finalize their union. They’d be too happy to stand and they’d just collapse at each other’s side, and they’d plan their honeymoon like this. Pointing out places they wanted to go in her little snapshot of the cityscape, nestled into each other’s chests.

Caleb’s enraptured, she can hear excitement in his breath, and she’s more than a little pleased. She didn’t know people cared this much about her art, about her childhood, about who she was before she became who she is. She hopes she has all the time in the world to tell him more.

She’s still on his chest, their hands are still touching, even though she’s finished pointing out the painted landmarks. She’s kissed a lot of imaginary boys in this room.

It would be so easy …

******

Spinning with her arms out, feet tracing circles in the snow, they haven’t even made it to the dance hall yet and she’s already waltzing like he taught her all those months ago in a scroungy gnomish bar. The cold is bringing a flush to her cheeks and god damn it, it’s cute. She’s humming.

They could get inside where it’s warm, where they don’t need to get close for heat but they do anyway. Wrap an arm around her waist and take her hand in his. Keep her close enough to hear her giggle with each twirl he leads her on. Get drunk off her smile alone.

Find a far corner where the music is softer and they have space to just sway together. Write new memories over old, equally as sweet, slightly less bitter. Look at that smile that won’t have faded since before they stepped through the door. Run his fingers across her jaw, save this moment in tactile too. Lean down in slow motion, as she stretches up.

It would be so easy …

******

XI.

“What are you drawing?” he asks, not even looking up from his spells. He’s grown comfortable with having her in his space.

“A cup of hot cocoa.”

“Are there dicks in it?”

“No, just two very lovely marshmallows.”

His head lifts up at that, gazing at her with the gleam he’s been giving his runes. He’s trying to figure her out.

“Shnuggling up next to each other,” she continues. “With consent.”

“We’re not talking about grass are we?”

“No. I’m talking about marshmallows.”

“Marshmallows?” The gleam in his eye grows a little brighter. He leans a little closer. “I thought there was a hidden meaning for a second.”

There’s a reason why she sat down here, why she wanted him next to her as she thought about love and commitment, and telling people things after all these months. There’s a reason why he didn’t start as she settled at his side. There’s a reason why he’s looking at her with a cocked grin on his face, sure of himself, in a way that he so rarely is.

Maybe she wanted him to figure her out. Maybe she’s been trying to get him to figure her out for a while. He’s starting to turn back to his spells, so maybe she needs to get even a little more obvious.

It would be so easy...

******

XII.

She knocked on the door with her heart already in her throat, but the second she stepped through the door and saw him looking over at her, tired but welcoming, it started to settle back where it belonged.

“Caleb. Will you cast tongues on me? YouknowImeanthespell,” she said, rushing words out because her heart was starting to leap back up again. “I just want to read the book.”

He nervously tucks some hair behind his ear. “I could read it to you, if you want?”

She knew he’d offered before, but she’s still surprisingly happy that he’s done it again. “Okay.”

He stands, wiping stained ink from his fingers on his pants as he leaves his desk, gesturing her over towards his fireplace. She swears as she walks over the flames get a little taller. She’s always liked it warmer than Caleb does.

She flops down onto the couch, wiggling a little bit to get comfortable. She pats the seat next to her and he obliges. She holds the book out and he takes it from her, so very gently, and she can’t tell if it’s just the way he treats books, or the way he treats her, or both.

He clears his throat as he prepares to open the cover, glancing over to make sure she’s ready. She scooches a bit closer, resting her cheek against his shoulder, you know, to see the pictures better, and hums to let him know he can start.

He talks to her in a quiet kind of voice. It’s soft, and it makes his chest rumble, and it feels like home. She could close her eyes and fall asleep here, and she can bet he wouldn’t even get up and risk disturbing her. She nearly does, but he’s stopping every few sentences to show her the pictures, without her even asking, he just knows she wants to see them. He’s pointing out the hidden cat on every page. She loves that he still remembers where they all are.

“That was a happy story, Caleb!” she says, mostly to his shoulder, because she doesn’t want to move from where she’s nestled herself.

“Mhm,” he agrees. “That’s why my mother read it to me.”

“I really thought, like, the cat prince was going to trap him in there forever, and then he wouldn’t be able to go and see his mother.” She cranes her head up now, propping her chin on his arm, stabilizing herself with arms she was barely aware she’d wrapped around his waist.

“Well,” he says, turning his head towards her and finding their noses nearly touching, “a lot of Zemnian stories do end that way.”

She laughs, he smiles, and neither of them want to move.

“The Cat Prince kind of reminds me of the Traveler,” she muses. She buries her face back in his shoulder as she talks, squeezing her arms a little tighter around him.

“It’s true, isn’t it?”

It’s a question only in technicality. The way his voice sounds as he says it, she can tell. He’s read so many stories, he could have picked any to leave in her room, but he chose this one about a boy and a bedroom and a magic cat and a brief escape, with a happy ending. He knew she’d ask. He wanted her to.

She’s glad she did. She’s glad he knows her so well. She’s glad for the way he turned up the fire to make her comfortable. She’s glad for the smile that’s still on his lips, lasting longer than his smiles usually do. She’s glad she’s here with him, after everything they’ve seen and heard and done. She’s just glad.

Gods, she’s so in love with him.

It would be so easy.

fin.

#widojest #jester x caleb #critical role fic #critical role #alex writes #i may or may not edit and put this on ao3 later but for now its just here #also fair warning may have typos in it i didn't get a chance to fully edit bc i gotta go to class in 5 minutes

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shhh-no-ones-home · 3 years

Text

to love and leave behind steve rogers x reader x bucky barnes

+++++++++

this is Steve x reader x Bucky following the events of endgame

prompt: She has a strong fondness for Bucky but she knew that was never gonna happen. So she agreed to go out with Steve when he asked. they had been dating for a while and then the snap happened. five years come and go and she knows its Steve's turn to find happiness. and who knows, maybe she and Bucky can too.

Also from a thought that captain America is pro-choice so themes of that and mentions of abortion and pregnancy

Song: miss you in a heartbeat by def Leppard

tag list: @cynic-spirit +++++++++

I stood next to Steve by one of the vans as Bruce set up the new time machine. It had taken a short bit to get everything in order again but Scott pitched in so that helped a lot. Now it was just the five of us; Bucky, Sam, Bruce, Steve, and me. And we were all anxiously waiting the outcome of today's events. To fix what was broke and to put back the stones. And as exciting as that was I still felt a heaviness on my heart about the conversation that had to happen. It was almost time. The other guys were standing around waiting for him.

"Hey Steve, I have to tell you something. Before you go."

I said softly, barely audible as I slumped my way out of the driver seat. He looked confused, brows drawn.

"Go?"

He asked and I sent him a look before rubbing my hand down my arm.

"I don't want it to change your mind though."

I managed, trying to avoid his gaze but desperately wanting to remember him like this.

"Okay?"

I took a deep breath, staring over his concern stricken face.

"I was doing my physical the other morning, right? and, uh... I'm pregnant."

His smile grew so wide as he stepped to me, hands at my elbows.

"What?! That's great!"

He was so enthusiastic. But I shook my head.

"I wanted you to know before I made my decision, but, I don't know if I can do this."

His face fell slowly.

"What do you mean?"

He knew exactly what I meant.

"I can't take care of a baby. Especially not without help."

He paused as realization struck him. He knew that I knew what was happening today.

"Plus i know it would tear you up inside. With you leaving and all."

He opened his mouth twice before speaking.

"Y/n i-"

"It's okay Steve. I'm not trying to stop you. In fact I want you to be happy. And I know that's not here. It never was."

He tightened his jaw.

"But terminating? I understand that it's completely your decision but you always talked about how hard it would be for you to even have kids and how much you wanted one when it came time."

I shook my head quickly.

"I can't keep it. It wouldn't be fair to either of us. Or it. No matter how much I want it."

"And thats your choice?"

He said a little defeated. He knew it didn't matter. No matter how excited I was when I found out or how much I was anticipating carrying through. But that was before I knew there was a possibility he could be with her again. And before I knew I'd be doing this alone. It took me two days to come to terms with the fact that he should know before he leaves. So here we were.

"we've been together for seven years Steve, I know you well enough to know you're leaving."

"I don't have to."

He said just above a whisper, his hands making their way to my hips.

"We both know that's a lie. From the moment we found out it would work we knew you were going. It's okay."

We both just stared at each other for a moment, trying not to cry. He knew I always hid my emotions well, something that took both of us a good time to learn and work around. But now I didn't know if I wanted to. The only thing I guess keeping me from crying, sobbing, holding him close again, was the want for him to finally be happy. Even if it broke me a little on the inside. But we both knew we were truly in love with different people.

"I do love you." he said softly.

"And I you. But this wasn't forever."

I moved his hands off my hips and held them in mine.

"I guess it never really was."

"No. more of a place holder until we could be where we really belong."

He looked down at them connected for a moment before looking back to my face.

"You gonna talk to him?"

I half shrugged.

"Maybe we could bond over losing you."

I joked, a smile tugging at the edge of his lips.

"Maybe you could learn from each other. He needs you just as much as you need him."

I sighed.

"Think he'll want it?"

I was almost serious but I doubted he would.

"The baby?"

He asked a little dumfounded and I snorted.

"Steven grant Rogers Jr?"

He laughed, shaking his head.

"He's getting better."

"So was I."

He sent me a look.

"You still are."

"I'll miss you Steve."

I admitted, him pulling me into a tight hug. And I finally let a tear slip.

"I'll miss you too y/n. I'll always keep you in my heart."

He whispered before pulling away, still holding me in his arms.

"Don't forget about me okay?"

I croaked out.

"How could I? You changed my life."

He offered a small smile.

"I love you Steve."

He leaned forward and kissed me gently, resting his forehead against mine afterwards.

"Take care of each other and everything will be alright."

°°°°°°°°°

He asked if I wanted to come over to be with them but I couldn't do it. I'd much rather sit here in the van with my own thoughts and emotions than any of them see me cry again. I could still see everyone and everything that was happening and I wasn't quite sure if that was worse or not. Bucky had his hands in his pockets, a sadness over him, and Sam had a very enthusiastic demeanor. But he didn't know. Not like we did. That hurt. Losing love always does.

I blinked out a few more tears as I got back out of the van, walking to the end of it and watching them intently. Steve was on the platform, shield and hammer in hand. He looked from them to me and I offered the smallest smile but it was better than nothing. I just hoped he knew exactly how much I did care for him and how okay I was with him going. After all, he deserved his happy ending. The man out of time.

When I heard Sam and Bruce arguing I figured that was my queue. It was one slow, shaky step after another to get to where they were. Then Bucky said something and all our attention made it's way to a figure sitting at the edge of the clearing. Without a second thought my hand was over my mouth and I tried my hardest to hold the sob threatening to spill from my lips. I looked to the sky and wiped the few tears away, taking a labored breath. I swallowed hard, shook my head, and kept on my mission. When I made it to Bucky he offered a broken smile, leaning into me as I slipped my arm into his. We were silent for a moment as we watched Sam talk to Steve. He looked like he had changed so much but also not at all. But he looked happy and that's what mattered. Even if it broke all of us.

"This isn't going to be easy."

I said just above a whisper and he nodded.

"What was it that he always said? We do this together?"

I half laughed, looking to the ground and kicking a stick lightly.

"Walk with me?

I asked, looking back to him and He nodded. It was fairly leisurely as we turned and passed Bruce, still flipping switches and turning the machine off. But there was a wracking at my brain as I held onto to Bucky for dear life. There was probably a million things to say but I knew what needed to be heard because it was the same thing on my mind.

"Ya know he didn't belong here. He never really did."

I looked up at him and he swallowed hard.

"That doesn't make it any easier."

I hummed softly.

"No it doesn't. What does though is knowing that he still believes in us, even if we don't believe in ourselves."

His pace got slower.

"I'm gonna miss him."

I swallowed hard.

"We all will. But you know just like I do that he had to leave. He found his purpose a long time ago and it wasn't here with us."

The tears were threatening again and he stopped.

"What about you?"

I looked over his stone cold features for a moment as he stared down at me. I ran my thumb over his arm lightly.

"I made peace with it. I've been in love with someone else for a while. since we met anyway. He knew that. And he knew that the people we were meant for weren't available. So we stayed together."

His head hung low.

"Oh. So you've found someone else already?"

He looked back to me with a different form of sadness behind his eyes.

"Bucky-"

"No it's okay, I'm glad you have. I guess everyone's moving on."

I shook my head.

"Buck I'm talking about you."

He deadpanned.

"You are?"

I nodded slowly, trying to choose my words carefully.

"I've known since the day we met. I was meant to be with you. Sometimes you just know, you feel it. But you weren't ready and that's okay."

We started walking again.

"But you and steve-"

"Had a mutual understanding to fill each other's needs until we could make it back to our own person. even if it was seven years of dating and living together and just carrying on. we were happy for the most part. like living with a friend."

i squeezed his arm.

"but ive known it was supposed to be you. And i know we've been working through things together, its brought us closer. and if you're ready I'd love to try this more than friends thing. But if not that's okay too. I've waited this long."

I let out a short laugh.

"I've been working so hard."

He said and I looked to him.

"as a young man there was nothing I wanted more than to settle down and start a family. But I don't want to hurt you. I still don't trust myself and you've held me enough nights to know the nightmares still linger."

I stopped him and stood in front of him so we were facing each other. I placed my hands firmly on his arms and he tensed. I looked intently between his eyes.

"Bucky you could never hurt me."

I said sternly.

"Who else has visited you and dealt with the nightmares since you've been here? Who else knows more about you than Steve? Who has voluntarily been your partner and your friend?"

He looked down a little ashamed as I kept going.

"Buck, I know with the snap it's been a while but that doesn't change how I feel. Relationships Are about growth and sacrifice."

He nodded slowly.

"Yeah I guess you're right. And I guess Part of me has been waiting for a long time to hear that from you."

I reached up and cupped his face, running my thumb over his check bone as he smiled down at me.

"So you wanna try this whole dating thing?"

"I'd love to. If you'll have me."

He said a little unsure. I swallowed hard as realization struck me. Well that or the nausea.

"Before we do this I do need to tell you something."

He looked a little concerned

"Okay?"

"It came up earlier and I don't want it to change how you feel about me or us because I'm still on the fence about my decision. But I'm pregnant."

He just stared at me for a long while, eyes wide.

"I didn't want it to be the deciding factor on Steve staying or not and I've been thinking about aborting it. I won't be able to do this on my own and it's not fair to dump this on you either-"

"Hey, no no no no no, I get it's your decision but if you want help. I can- I mean i may not be the best candidate but I've always wanted a family. And I'm not about to leave someone I care about behind because something like that came up. im still learning and finding myself again but if you want help... im more than happy to lend a hand."

I looked over this face again. He seemed serious.

"Are you sure? I don't want to push this on you when you're already so unsure about yourself. I was gonna make an appointment tomorrow-"

"No, don't even worry about it. Maybe this will be the push I need. I mean we've got mine months. I could be better by then. maybe not a lot but something is better than nothing. and like you said, when you know you know. We can be fully established by then, right?"

I smiled, his hands moving to my hips.

"With your pardon and starting over again in the real world yeah I think we can. If you don't mind taking care of a tiny Steve Rogers."

He laughed, cringing a little bit.

"Are we gonna tell them that?"

I laughed too and for once it felt like a weight off my shoulders.

"It's gonna be complicated because they obviously won't look like you but as far as I'm concerned this was a decision we make together, to be parents, so you'll still be their dad. If you want to be off course. Even if Steve is the one that made it."

He nodded, pulling me into a hug.

"Thank you for giving me a chance. I promise I won't mess this up."

I pulled away from him and kissed his cheek quickly.

"Bucky I love you. If you want to do this with me there is no way you could mess it up."

He smiled at me a genuine smile before kissing me gently. It was soft and caring and like a switch was flipped. When he pulled away he picked me up and I squealed, laughing as he buried his face in my neck.

"I love you too darlin'."

#wattpad #x reader #steve rogers #captain america #bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes #white wolf #the winter soldier #the falcon and the winter soldier #imagines #one shots #marvel #332

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casey-v · 3 years

Text

Valentine

Ethan x Casey

I haven’t written any fics for quite a while, but with OH3 coming soon I’m getting these vibes again….

I always wondered: what would the closing of Edenbrook mean to E x MC’s relationship? Here’s my attempt to this part of the story.

Sorry in advance for any mistakes, English isn’t my first language.

Warnings: none, I guess (maybe a few smutty thoughts)

Words: 3K

Disclaimer: all characters owned by PB

Participating in @choicesfebchallenge Day14: Valentine

“Good morning Dr. Valentine. This is your day today, isn’t it?” The nurse Rose greeted Casey as she entered the free clinic.

“Good morning. Yeah, I get that a lot.” Casey tried a friendly smile. Since she had been a child everyone referred to her last name on Valentine’s Day, making a remark or joking around. As a teenager it had made her feel special, but by now she was tired of hearing it. Especially today.

She had been in a bad mood since she woke up and it had nothing to do with her last name or Rose. But it had everything to do with the man who simply ignored this day today, probably didn’t even know it existed.

It was perfectly clear to Casey, that these kinds of traditions meant nothing to Ethan. Nevertheless, her disappointment was huge because she had had great expectations for today. After a few difficult weeks she had hoped that a romantic dinner could bring them closer together again.

After the gala and their public kiss everything had seemed perfect and she had spent some time on cloud number nine. But then Ethan gradually became distant and a little grumpy again. They both often worked double shifts and meetings outside the hospital became rare. And they never talked about their life after Edenbrook’s closing. Whenever they got close to that topic, Ethan would change the subject. And Casey was also in denial; she hadn’t applied to any jobs outside greater Boston because she didn’t want to lose Ethan. But maybe it was too late now anyway, she didn’t even know what point in their relationship they really were at.

“Has he told you yet?” Sienna interrupted her thoughts.

“Hi Sienna. No, I still have no idea what we’re doing tonight.”

“Oh, that’s so romantic. For sure he has something incredibly special planned for the two of you.”

Casey tried to maintain a cheerful façade even though she actually felt like crying. But Sienna’s enthusiasm was also kind of sweet, so she managed a smile.

“You seem more excited than I am.”

“I’m hosting a lonely-hearts roomie dinner tonight, so at least let me enjoy the romance in your life.”

Casey felt bad that she was being dishonest with her friend. It was silly, but she would rather spend the night at the movies on her own and then sleep in an on-call room than admit to her friend that Ethan wasn’t going to take her out on a date. Besides, talking about it would make it more real: their relationship was probably on the rocks.

A busy morning at the clinic kept Casey occupied and gave her no opportunity to dwell on her misery. As she was preparing an IV for a patient, she suddenly sensed someone right behind her.

“Dr. Valentine, can you please run some tests on this patient and then get back to me as soon as possible?”

Usually her favorite baritone voice quickened her heartbeat, but today it sounded businesslike and not appealing at all. When she turned around Ethan didn't meet her gaze. Instead, he just thrust a patient chart into her hand and was gone before Casey even had the chance to respond.

At first, she stood there with her mouth open, unable to move, a dreadful feeling spreading through her chest. She had barely seen him all week and that was all she got?

When her vision started to get blurred by tears, she quickly ran to a supply closet, locked the door and sank to the floor.

What now? She couldn’t decide whether she was more sad or mad. How could it be, that things went wrong so fast after everything they had been through together? And how dare he talk to her like a random intern, shoving that patient file into her hands so rudely. He wasn't even her boss anymore.

She still held the chart clutched to her chest and now wanted to check what seemed so urgent. But what she saw didn't make any sense. There was only a last name on it and an address, but everything else was blank. As she turned the page her heart took a leap. She wiped away a few tears and stared at the blank piece of paper. Two words stared back at her.

Dinner tonight?

When she finally remembered to breathe again, she flipped back to the first page and now the pieces were falling into place.

Sorellina, Huntington Ave.

She knew the name had sounded familiar. “Sorellina” wasn't a patient's name; it was the name of a fancy Italian restaurant in the Back Bay. To be sure she pulled out her phone and searched the internet. And what she found there brought a bright smile to her face.

…the ultimate destination if you're looking to really impress a date…

.. one of the most romantic spots in the city…

…awesome place for date nights…

So he didn’t forget after all! But why the strange behavior? Some things didn’t add up. You don’t get a reservation like this one day in advance. He must have planned this weeks ago. A lot had changed since and now maybe he just wanted to give them one last shot? He wouldn’t be so heartless to dump her on Valentine’s day, would he?

Casey was totally confused. Was she just misinterpreting the whole situation? But she couldn’t be that paranoid. Something was brewing and she was determined to find out tonight, no matter what. This time she would confront him and for once she wouldn’t let him off the hook so easily.

But first she had to get through the day somehow, and she had to head home during her lunchbreak to choose a breathtaking dress. And pack an overnight bag, just in case. Not to forget the special brand of scotch she had ordered for Ethan. And she had to tell Sienna. And…

Okay! First of all, she had to calm down and concentrate on her work. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Then she took a pen out of her pocket and wrote below Ethan’s message.

Tell me when and where and I’ll be there 💕

After leaving the supply closet she randomly grabbed two other files, placed hers in between and handed them to an intern. “Please get this to Dr. Ramsey immediately.” Then she went back to her patient, who was still waiting for his IV.

The day seemed to drag on endlessly. In the afternoon she found the piece of paper out of the fake patient file in her coat pocket.

Dinner tonight?

Tell me when and where and I’ll be there 💕

my office, 7 pm 😊

He had even drawn an emoji! Smiling she added one more line.

Dessert at your place?

Then she quickly ran upstairs, sneaked into Ethan’s office, and put the piece of paper onto his desk. Her eyes fell on the big clock on the wall: 4 pm! Three more hours to go.

*******

Ethan sat behind his desk, already dressed in his tux, trying to focus on some files. But instead of working, he kept repeating in his head what he wanted to say tonight.

It was ridiculous. Usually, he gave speeches in front of hundreds of fellow doctors and here he was, being nervous about talking to one single woman. The difference was that he felt very qualified to talk about his profession, but he was totally insecure when it came to talking about his feelings. With Casey, he wasn't Dr. Ramsey, a famous and respected diagnostician; with her, he was simply Ethan, a man struggling with the changes in his life.

The sound of high heels echoed through the hallway and announced Casey's arrival. Trying to calm his nerves Ethan busied himself with his paperwork as she entered the office. He didn't raise his head, instead he just glanced at her over the rims of his glasses. As he did, she put her hands on her hips, pushing the winter coat aside to give him full view of her stunning dress. And it had the desired effect. The small piece of black nothingness took his breath away.

“Dr. Ramsey, don't you think it's inappropriate to look at a colleague that way?”

He swallowed hard, but he wouldn’t let her tease him like that.

“Dr. Valentine, don't you think it's inappropriate to wear something like that in your workplace?”

She smirked at him.

“Not as much as taking it off right here in your office.”

Defeated he shook his head, a smile showing at the corners of his mouth. He had to fight the urge to leap over his desk and take her right there against the office door, but instead he only sighed deeply and reached for his coat. This had to wait.

“We better get going or I don't know what I'll do!”

Together they left the office and walked to his car, holding hands. But despite their little banter just now there was an odd silence between them.

*******

The restaurant really was the perfect setting for a special date. Casey was overwhelmed and also kind of intimidated by the atmosphere. To her, it felt more like a first date with a guy she had a crush on than a dinner with the man she had been dating for month. And Ethan seemed equally self-conscious. But after some champagne, they both loosened up and had a really great time.

Almost.

Casey knew Ethan too well by now not to notice that something was strange about him tonight. She couldn’t shake that nagging feeling in her gut.

Back in his apartment, after she had given him her gift, he sat down on the couch with a serious face and asked her to sit down as well.

“I have something for you, too”

Blushing slightly, he handed her a small box and rubbed the back of his neck.

“I wanted to…, I mean this is… Oh, just open it and then I’ll explain!”

Carefully, she lifted the lid of the box and saw, lying on a tiny silk cushion, a key. From the looks of it, she assumed it was the key to his apartment. Casey gave Ethan a questioning look and waited for the promised explanation. But it didn’t come. Ethan seemed uncomfortable and pinched the bridge of his nose. Finally, he just blurted it out.

“Want to move in with me?”

Of all the things she had expected him to say, this certainly wasn’t on the list. But why now? Hundreds of different thoughts whirled through Casey’s head all at once. At first she just stared at him, then she burst into tears. For a long time Ethan looked at her helplessly, finally he ran a hand through his hair in frustration and murmured: “Obviously not.”

At that, Casey’s head snapped up. “No, no, no! I do, of course I do!” She wiped some tears from her face and explained between occasional sobs.

“The thing is: Whenever I imagined moving in with you, I got sad about not living with my friends anymore. And now I’ve just realized it doesn’t matter because in a couple of weeks they’ll all be gone anyway, scattered across the country. I’m going to miss them so much. And since I don’t know where I am going to be, there’s no point in moving in with you either.”

She shook her head, trying to keep the tears at bay.

“I’m sorry I’m such a mess, it just seems that everything is falling apart. This morning I wasn’t even sure whether you want to break up with me or not and I thought that…”

“Whoa, hold it right there. What on earth are you talking about?”

From Ethan’s shocked expression Casey could tell that it had obviously never occurred to him to break up. Slightly embarrassed she continued in an unsteady voice.

“I mean, the way you’ve been acting lately, especially this morning, you’ve been so rude….”

Ethan gently caressed her cheek with the back of his hand, wiped away her tears, and sighed.

“Oh Casey, I’m so sorry. But you know me; you know that I hate talking in front of patients. And I had a lot on my mind; I’ve been nervous all day about our date.”

He smiled shyly and shook his head. Then his gaze darkened again, guilt clearly written on his face. His brows furrowed, and he backed away a little.

“Although you’re right that I’ve been putting some distance between us lately. But I needed clarity about the whole job situation. And us. All my life I’ve planned everything three steps ahead and then suddenly it felt like I was losing control. I know I can’t ask you to stay because you have to finish your residency at one of the best hospitals in the country. Thus, I have tortured myself to figure out how we can make things work and I’ve been miserable all this time. Until I realized the answer is fairly simple.”

Casey couldn’t believe that they had both been so distraught for weeks, and instead of sharing and confiding in each other, they were just brooding over the challenges ahead, each to their own. Slowly, the uneasy feeling inside her stomach began to dissipate, although she had no idea what he was talking about.

“What answer?”

Ethan took her hand and he gently drew circles on the back of it with his thumb, his eyes following its movement.

“Edenbrook has been my home for almost 12 years now, and if they take it away from me, what else is there? Naveen, of course, and my father nearby, but other than that ….”

All this time Casey held the box with the key in one hand. Now he took it from her and raised the key to eye level. Her gaze wandered back and forth between the key and Ethan. He cleared his throat in search of words, but they didn’t come. Her heart hammered in her chest, the tension almost unbearable. Finally, his blue eyes met hers and he found the courage to speak, his voice husky and low.

“This isn’t just the key to my apartment, Casey. This key means I want to live with you, wherever that may be.”

His last words were only a whisper. “If you’ll have me, that is.”

Casey couldn’t even begin to grasp what it all meant. She would be able to apply to any hospital in the country and Ethan would be with her. Live with her.

An overwhelming feeling of happiness spread through her body.

“You really would do this for me?”

“No, if I’m honest I’m doing this not for you but for myself. I don’t want to go back to being that grumpy cynic I once was before I met you. I’m lost without you.”

The full meaning of his words sent a prickling sensation down her spine, but she was also amused.

“Ethan, you’re one of the most famous and respected physicians, you’ve managed perfectly fine without me for 36 years.”

Ethan put down the key and the box from her hand and took both her hands, his gaze intense.

“But it’s taken me 36 years to find out what it means to be genuinely happy.”

Those last words took all her breath right out of her and her heart was ready to explode. His eyes pierced hers as he waited for a response.

He moved closer und squeezed her hands tightly, his eyes still dark.

“So, what do you say?”

She couldn’t resist the temptation to mess with him.

“Let me get this straight: You’re telling me, if I said no, there would be no one to tell you if you’re acting like a goddam diva again?”

A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth realizing what she was getting at. “Probably.”

Grinning she went on. “And who would be there to help you with your social media accounts?”

“Nobody.”

Ethan’s eyes began to light up as she moved onto his lap, mischief in her smile.

“And there would be no one who would dare to tease you?”

“Right.”

Their faces were now only a breath away.

“And nobody there to make you pancakes?”

“Exactly. What would become of me?”

Her mouth moved to the side of his neck. After a line of soft kisses, she started nibbling on his earlobe and whispered. “And no one, who would do this?”

“Oh, I’m sure it’s not hard to find someb…”

She quickly backed away and punched his arm playfully. “Don’t you dare!”

Ethan was now gleaming all over his face. He tucked a finger under her chin and gently nudged her nose with his. “So is that a YES?”

“Do I even have a choice?”

“Not really!”

And then at last his lips found hers, first slowly, barely touching, until they both gave in and melted into each other. All the tension of the day, all the pent-up emotions of the past weeks fell off and there was only him and her. While the kisses grew more and more urgent, his hands started to roam over her body and slowly he unzipped her dress. As his warm hand gently slid down her back, Casey felt his hot breath on her ear.

“If I remember correctly, you promised me dessert.”

“We already had a selection of delicious Italian desserts.”

“But I’m still very hungry. And first of all, this dress has to go. The sight of it has been tormenting me all evening.”

*****

The bedroom was almost dark. Ethan lay on his back, staring at the ceiling. He was unable to put his mind to rest after the events of the day. He turned over to watch the stunning woman sleeping next to him. The moonlight on her face made her even look more beautiful. From now on, he would have the privilege of waking up to this sight every morning. That thought alone made his heart leap.

Gently, he draped the sheets over her shoulder, brushed her hair out of her face and gave her a soft kiss on the cheek; always careful not to wake her.

Smiling down at her he whispered. “I love you, Casey Valentine.”

Never before had these words left his lips. And now didn’t even count either because she couldn’t hear them. He had tried to tell her many times, but the moment never seemed right. Today would have been the perfect occasion, but he had chickened out again.

It was absurd. They had started to plan their future together. Why was it so hard? Three simple words!

Laying back down he whispered, more to himself.

“I’m going to tell you. Soon.

Maybe tomorrow.”

----------------------------------------

Thank you if you have made it so far.

This piece has really been a challenge, it took me forever. I’ve changed it a couple of times and I am still not quite satisfied, but at some point you just have to let go.

Tagging seperately.

#choicesfebruarychallenge2021 #open heart #playchoices #ethan ramsey #ethan x mc #casey valentine #ethan jonah ramsey #my writing #fanfic

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