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#normal went out the window a long time ago
rin-may-1103 · 19 hours
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The Wrong Robin Au (part two?)
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"Alright, kid." Danny sighed as he walked back into the motel. "tell you what, you tell me everything you think you know about me and bats, and I'll be Robin. Deal?"
Tim's eyes widen in surprise, "wait, really?" he asks, dropping the third Oreo he had been trying to balance on Sam's forehead. Sam snored, her nose twitching in agitation for a moment before going back to normal.
Tim leaned back, keeping an eye on her. "do you really mean it? you'll come back and fix him?"
Danny sighed, "I can't promise that I'll be able to fix him, but I can promise to do my best."
tim nodded his head, "That's all I ask." then the kid stood up, holding his hand out for Danny to shake, "We got a deal, Robin."
Danny smirked, unable to keep a straight face at how cute the kid was being. Reaching out, he shook his hand.
"Right, first things first. Who's Batman, and why do you think so?" Danny asked, making his way over to the table. Tim followed behind him, his face brightening up in excitement.
"Bruce Wayne of course," Tim cheered, plopping down onto the chair across from Danny.
of course, another rich fruit loop would be Batman. Why not? What's next? Lex Luther was Superman's archnemesis? Oliver Queen cosplayed Katness Evergreen?
"I thought Dick Grayson, Bruce's ward, was Robin at first. It had made sense, or at least mostly did but I wasn't completely sold on it. I only really thought it was him because Robin was able to do a quadruple backflip, and only Grayson's family was able to do that. but then I saw you! and it makes perfect sense!" Tim smiled excitedly, leaning forward as he continued.
"You were able to do the flip, AND you acted just like Robin did! Dick doesn't act like Robin in public, or ever really. But you do! You did the flip, you make puns! you even bit that one mugger!"
Danny blinked before slowly nodding his head; Well, at least his personality wasn't going to be a problem. "right, makes sense," not. it did not make sense, but who was Danny to crush this kid's hopes. also, how long ago was this? because Danny hadn't done the flip this time... he's definitely bitten a criminal or two over the past two weeks, but the flip? that had to have been back when he first got his powers... he vaguely remembers his parents dragging him around the country on some trip Vlad set up for them.
see, it was totally Vlad's fault.
"and who was the second Robin?" Danny asked, leaning back and crossing his arms.
"Bruce's second kid, Jason Todd," Tim replied, not smiling anymore. "The Joker killed Robin over in Ethiopia. Jason went missing and was declared dead around the same time."
"Right," Danny coughed, glancing away from Tim. "and what else do you know?"
"Well, I know Commissioner Gordon's daughter, Barbara, was batgirl..." Tim trailed off with a wince, obviously not liking the conversation anymore. Danny had to agree, the whole class had been informed about the dangers of Gotham City. Barbara Gordan had been one of the examples they used.
"I know that you're using a fake name!" Tim suddenly added, looking more lively now. Danny blinked before sighing, "Yeah? and why's that?"
"you used your bat training to make a fake identity to throw Bruce off your trail! That way you would have more time to settle in with your new team! and it worked for a while, that is until he caught up to you and your team. it doesn't seem he knows about this identity, so you've been using it ever since Jason's death. because you're mad at him."
"and why am I mad at him?" Danny asked, tilting his head back to stare at the ceiling. Just what had he gotten himself into?
"because he didn't tell you about Jason's death." Danny glanced back at the kid, watching as he looked away and out the window. "just like he didn't tell Dick..."
had he finally connected the dots? had he finally realized he got the wrong person?
"why would he not tell you two?" Tim asked, turning to look up at Danny. Danny shrugged, turning to look back at the ceiling. "grief makes people do things they never would have before." like becoming a billionaire and spending twenty years scheming on how to murder a single man. or it could make them more obsessed with their work.
Danny knows Greif, he's had to deal with it for years now. It's the only thing he understands about why Batman has changed so much. Greif, especially for someone you love? It changes you, it holds onto your heart and never lets go. It can drive you insane if you let it.
"he was so caught up in his own grief he didn't realize that there were others who needed to grieve with him."
"Oh," Tim replied.
they sat in silence for a moment before Tim spoke up again.
"I know where the Batcave is."
Danny blinked. Right. Batman. Batcave. the bat-themed vigilante had a secret lair and it was a cave. That checked out. At least it wasn't in the basement.
"yeah?" Danny prompted, "And where's that?"
"under the manor," Tim replied, crushing any and all hope Danny had for Bruce Wayne.
It was official. All billionaires were fruitloops. Danny didn't care if they didn't all have secret basements, they were fruitloops.
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hey-its-sybarite · 10 months
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Seeing & Being Seen
There’s just something about an OTP where BOTH people will throw a goddamn tantrum if the other half withholds their attention. They do this even well before they know how they actually feel.
Person A: *throws a bitchy little hissy fit, maybe with some blackmail or destruction or murder*
Person B: This blatant attempt to manipulate me isn’t just working, I find it downright charming too.
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Count on this man to react reasonably instead of escalating while internally chanting “look at me!”
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In this pairing the “reasonable, quiet one” commits a lot of relationship-adjacent arson. Ooh and he withholds attention and affection until his attention-whore partner escalates to ludicrous degrees. So sane! So healthy!
Not that Daniel and Armand were very different.
At least the two below don’t kill for each other… as much? But the tantrums and hissyfits are epic.
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This guy started young and spiralled. Unfortunately for him, the other guy was a bit slow on the uptake. Just as violent and obsessive though!
Then there are the many normal sibling relationships with normal sibling boundaries and NO mummy or daddy or abandonment issues. These guys get and hold each other’s attention in VERY NORMAL WAYS like teasing, fighting about who’s the favourite child, lying, blackmail, theft, state secrets, torture, murder, dying, selling your soul and going to hell, actual kissing, heroic rescuing and frankly unseemly amounts of eye contact.
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I’m sure there are way more. I didn’t even separate out the Hargreeve’s dynamics because damn.
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prettyfastcars · 2 months
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the way you bend, the way you break | Mob!Lando
Summary: You’re one of the housekeepers who work at one of his many holiday homes. Given the nature of his ‘job’, Lando is never in one place for too long. Which means that he comes back to this house quite a few times during the year. Things were normal in the beginning, but in time Lando began taking an interest in you. It was benign at the start – flirty comments here and there, stolen glances, and whatnot. You ignored most of it, thinking it was nothing. But then you both crossed a line, and consequently, you’ve had to hide a secret from him for months while he was gone. But now he’s back, abruptly. He would do anything, you realised, to get what he wants. And this time he wants what’s always been his. 
Themes: dark!lando, smut, possessive!lando, housekeeper!reader, explicit language, breeding kink, pregnant!reader
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He wasn’t supposed to be back just yet. 
Your heart raced as you watched his car come to a stop right outside the house. He shouldn’t be here. He left just about two months ago. He shouldn’t be back for another two months or so. 
On the gravel, he carelessly brought his car to a stop as if he couldn’t be bothered to even properly park his ridiculously expensive classic car. You were sure this one would have some name you couldn’t pronounce as well. Just like the rest of them which filled the garage. Unused, but well taken care of. 
You were currently peeking from a window in the east wing. You could get a clear view of him from here, without him ever noticing that you were watching. So you remained standing there, at the window, heart pounding and well aware that the rest of the staff were running around doing last minute adjustments to the mostly spotlessly clean house now that the master of the house was back, unannounced. 
Usually he called beforehand, he never just showed up so suddenly in the three years that you’d been working for him. This would be the first time. 
You watched him as he got out of his car, no luggage or anything – he had everything he could ever need here, and you knew because you were part of the staff who were responsible for the East wing where his personal bedroom and office were located. A shiver went through you as you thought of the bedroom. 
You watched how Lando made his way to the front steps of his house. You already knew there would be a small group of staff there to welcome him back for the third time this year. Last time he was here for a few weeks was just over two months ago. And now he was back again. 
Why? Your heart raced. Lando always carried an air of danger around him. It was one of the things which lured you in. 
No one ever questioned or cared what he did for work. You knew, the rumours and his reputation preceded him. But he paid you all too well for any of you to question him. Or even be bothered by the immorality of what he did, or how bad of a man he was. 
Besides, being from a small nearby town, and it being all that you’d ever known, this job was like stepping into a foreign world. A world of grandeur, and garages more spacious than your family home. A world of gatsby-esque parties, and expensive cars. A world of luxurious homes, and hallways with multiple chandeliers which made you feel like a princess anytime you walked down them. Manicured lawns with Greek gods’ statues and a whole lake in the backyard. This house was tucked away in a quiet corner of the world, situated at the foot of green, foggy hills. 
He was from another world. He felt like a novelty. Like an opulent vice. And he was so easy to get addicted to. The first time he touched you–
“What are you doing just standing there?” One of the older housekeepers chided from behind. “Go make sure the master bedroom has enough fresh towels! And make sure the pillowcases are…” She listed all the things you needed to get done in just a few minutes before he made his way up here. 
You nodded, moved away from the window and quickly secured your white apron around your waist. You took a quick glance at your appearance in the nearby mirror. White-collared black dress and now the apron. You sighed, before rushing into his bedroom immediately to get started. 
You swapped the old towels for freshly washed ones. You made sure the bed was nice and perfect. You were in the middle of making the pillows look soft and plump when one of your colleagues walked into the room. 
You had your back to them, but you said, “I’m almost done here!” 
Then you heard a familiar chuckle, “Well, good. ‘Cause I missed my favourite girl.” 
Your eyes widened as you turned around. And there he was. Standing in front of the grand, and now shut, bedroom door. Seeing him after so many weeks always made your heart skip a beat or two. But it was different this time. Normally you’d rush into his arms and let him hold you but… 
You just stood there this time, by his large canopy bed. You took him in for a moment. White shirt with buttons undone and sleeves rolled up to his elbow, dark trousers, expensive shoes. A watch that probably cost half as much as this mansion on his wrist. His messy, curly hair and those pretty eyes. He looked like a dream. A dangerous dream. 
“Hi,” You murmured as he walked towards you. You stood there, frozen, as he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into his warm embrace. You couldn’t help but sigh at the familiarity of his hug, his touch, his scent. Over the past couple of years, you’d spent countless nights wrapped in these arms. In this very room, on this bed. Countless hours you’d spent moaning his name all night, sighing and whining in pleasure, sometimes till the sun came up. 
The memories came flooding in, triggered by one single hug. 
“I’ve missed you so much, baby.” He whispered against your forehead, before pulling away to look at you. He smiled before leaning in for a proper kiss. 
And for the first time in the couple of years that you’d known him, you gently dodged his kiss. You felt him tense up the moment you turned your face just slightly so he missed your lips and kissed the corner of your mouth instead. His arms around you tightened just a little. 
“Hey,” He said, his mouth brushing against your skin. “I haven’t seen you in so long. Give me a kiss.” He tried again, and you moved again, avoiding his kiss for a second time. Lando frowned. “What’s wrong?” He refused to let go of you, staring deep into your eyes with his irresistible ones. 
“No– nothing.” You sighed, carefully untangling yourself from his embrace. “It’s just, it’s early and someone might just come in to, you know, check if you have everything you need and… we might get caught.” You avoided his eyes as you put some distance between you and him. 
“But–,” 
You cut him off quickly. “I should go. We didn’t know you were coming, and the kitchen staff might need help. I also have to, uh…” You tried to find something, anything, “To bring you more towels.” You started to leave but he grabbed you by the wrist and pulled you into his chest, not letting go this time. 
“There’s plenty of people to help in the kitchen. Plus there’s enough towels here for ten people.” He stared at you like he’d caught you doing something you shouldn’t. “Stay with me for a bit. I miss you.” 
You tried to find some excuse again. “I really shouldn’t be here. They’ll notice.” 
He nodded once, looking like it pained him to not argue any further. “Fine. I will see you tonight then.” 
Tonight. He said it so easily. Why wouldn’t he? It had become a routine, hadn’t it? While the rest of the staff members made their way home in the evenings, you’d always stay back with him whenever he was here. Spend the night in his bed, in his arms. And you’d get up extra early each morning, right before your colleagues came in. You’d lie to everyone, pretending as if you were the last one to leave and the first one to come here each day. 
But not tonight. 
— 
It was late and the sun had already set but it wasn’t too dark yet as you made your way home. You didn’t stay tonight. You couldn’t. 
And when you were halfway home, your phone rang. You knew without looking that it must be him. So you slowed down enough to let your colleagues who were walking behind you to pass you, so you could answer the call. 
“Hey.” 
“Where the hell are you?” He asked, not even bothering to hide his annoyance. You could already picture him. He must be in his room, drink in his hand as he lounged on some sofa. He must have that bored look on his pretty face. 
But the accusation in his tone… You were prepared for it this time. “I really have to go home tonight. My mom isn’t feeling too well. And it gets hard for dad to manage the farm alone so I have to help out.” 
“Oh.” He said after a long pause. “Okay.” 
“I’ll see you tomorrow.” You tried your hardest to sound as cheery as possible even when you weren’t. “Bye.” 
“Baby, wait I–,” 
You hung up on him. Shit. 
— 
You didn’t see him the next day. In fact, you did everything you could to avoid him as much as possible. 
But given you worked in the wing where his bedroom was, you knew you wouldn’t be able to avoid him forever. And by midday, he managed to corner you just as you were leaving the linen closet at the end of the least used hallway in the gigantic house. 
You barely processed it as it happened. But one moment you were done with replacing the clean linen inside the closet and turned to leave, and the next Lando was there. Shoving you back inside the closet and shutting the door behind him as he caged you in between himself and the shelves. 
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” He asked, clearly not happy. 
You looked behind him, at the closet door. There were no locks of course. So if anyone were to just open it, you were finished. 
“Stop looking at that fucking door.” He snarled. “Look at me.” 
You did. “I– we shouldn’t do this. If someone–,” 
He cut you off. “Let me worry about that. What you need to do is use that pretty little mouth and tell me why the fuck have you been avoiding me? Don’t think I haven’t noticed.” He leaned closer, causing you to press your back further into the shelves. “First you hung up on me last night and now you’ve managed to avoid me all morning.” He frowned, lips brushing against your cheek as he spoke. “Start talking, my darling.” He sounded menacing. “Or so help me god, I’ll cause such a scene and–,” 
“No!” You let out a frustrated breath. “I’m not avoiding you.” You lied. “I was just truly busy this morning. And last night I really had to go home because my dad wasn’t doing too well and–,” 
“Dad?” He questioned, stopping your rambling. “I thought you said your mom wasn’t well.” His body tensed up again. His hands tightening their grip where they held on to your waist. 
Caught. Still you lied some more, “Well, they’re both a little under the weather.” 
He was quiet. And your heart pounded. You waited for him to buy whatever bullshit you’d been trying to get him to believe. 
“I see.” He said, a little too calm. Then he sighed and his lips found your neck, his mouth moving ravenously across your skin. “I miss you.” He sounded so sincere you almost gave in. “Fucking missed having you in my arms, my bed. I miss being inside you,” He murmured against your skin. “Don’t you miss me, baby?” 
You sighed. Just one more minute, you promised yourself. One more minute of this and then you’d push him away. “I do.” You whispered. 
“Then why are you treating me like I’m some cheap whore you no longer want around, huh?” 
You almost chuckled. “I’m not, it’s–,” 
“Shut up.” He sounded like he was pouting too. “I want you.” 
You hadn’t realised that his hands had found themselves under your dress. His fingers, about to reach into your underwear and touch you. Fuck… it was so easy to just want to give in and let him make you feel good. Because he always did. He always left you satisfied. But you couldn’t. 
“Lando.” You warned, pushing his hands away. “We can’t.” 
It happened in an instant. He switched from being nice and calm, to his hand being wrapped around your throat. And for the first time, your heart skipped a beat out of fear. Fear of this unknown, unseen side of him. 
His fingers tightened around your neck, his mouth brushing against your lips as he spoke. “Is it someone else?” He accused. “Did you find someone else while I was gone? Hmm? Some useless fucking boy in that little town of yours?” 
“No.” You defended yourself quickly. 
He pressed his body even more into yours. As if reminding you how it feels to be under him, with his body weight pressing onto you. “Then why the fuck are you denying me what’s mine?” His other hand meanwhile, found its way into your underwear again. “This is mine.” He murmured, cupping you in between your legs. “You understand? This cunt is mine. And I will fuck it whenever I want.” 
You couldn’t resist anymore, so you stopped fighting him the moment you felt his fingers sliding inside you. You tried your hardest not to moan too loudly as he finger-fucked you expertly. Like he knew your body too well. He did. 
His mouth left kisses all over your face, your neck, up till your ear where he whispered, “Tell me you’re mine.” 
You gasped when you felt his thumb rubbing your clit while his fingers slid in and out of you. Your wetness allowing his hand to just glide all over your folds, making you shiver in pleasure. “I’m yours.” You admitted, spreading your thighs even more to let him touch you. 
The air around you felt hotter. And you lost all coherent thoughts when he brought you right to the edge and… then pulled away. 
You were gasping for air as you watched him in disbelief, ready to beg for him to touch you again because you were close… so damn close. And he’d always been such a generous, giving lover. So what– 
“You’ve been a bad girl lately. You don’t get to come that easily.” 
And without anything else said, he turned and left the linen closet. Leaving you gasping for air, breathing heavily, with your body tingling and throbbing with need. 
— 
You didn’t see him for the next couple of days. You didn’t dare to ask your colleagues if they knew where he went either. All you knew was that he came home late at night – the dishes in the sink, clothes scattered around his bedroom, and empty whiskey glasses in his office meant that he did come home at some point. But then he disappeared in the mornings and didn’t show up all day. 
That happened continuously for three days before you saw him again. 
One evening, you noticed everyone around the house just wasn't there. It was still early to go home but the house was too quiet so you went to investigate. And you found no one. None of your colleagues. None of the kitchen staff. The security guards were there, as always, stationed just outside the house so you asked them. 
“Where’s everyone?” 
One of them replied, “Boss asked everyone to go home early for the weekend.” 
Oh? “No one told me.” You murmured under your breath. You didn’t think the guards heard but apparently they did. 
Another one of them responded, “Not you, miss. He asked us to make sure you were here when he got back.” 
Oh. “Back from where?” You asked. 
The two guards shrugged in a ‘We’re not exactly supposed to tell you’ way. 
So you went back into the house, worried. You paced around in the foyer before you decided to move upstairs, to the East wing. Then you paced some more, arranging and rearranging unnecessary stuff in the linen closet. It bothered you, the closet. It had been days since you’d been in here with him. 
You were in the middle of reliving the memories of the other day when you heard footsteps out in the hallway. That must be him, you figured. So you stepped out of the closet and saw him at the other end of the hallway. 
The chandeliers lit up the otherwise dark hallway. Dark frames, gilded mirrors, and Lando at the end of it, looking like the hero of some gothic novel. He was too far for you to read the expression on his face. But as he slowly made his way closer to where you stood, your own smile disappeared when you noted the grave look on his face. Like anger, and betrayal all in one. 
“Lando?” 
He kept walking closer, slower. “How long did you think you were gonna keep it from me?” 
You froze. “What?” Your voice sounded shaky and vulnerable. You could already feel the tears gathering at your waterline. There’s no way he knows, right? How would he know? You hadn’t told anyone. 
He chuckled, not an ounce of humour on his face. “Don’t act stupid.” 
“I can explain.” 
He shook his head, coming to a stop right in front of you. He looked like it was taking him a lot to keep whatever it was he felt contained. “Oh, you will.” His voice was… colder than ever. Bitter. Angry. 
So you did the only thing your instinct told you to do in the face of a man of his magnitude. You ran. 
Or at least tried to. 
Lando scoffed before chasing you. Catching you was so easy. In less than a few seconds he had you in his arms and was dragging you all the way to his bedroom. 
“Stop this shit!” 
“I’m sorry.” You pleaded. “I wanted to tell you, I really did.” You had tears streaming down your face as you let him lead you to his room. “But I didn’t know how. I was scared of how you’d–,”
He cut you off by pushing you onto his bed. “Scared that I would what?” He barked in your face as he pinned you down on his bed. One hand grabbed your wrists in place while the other slowly slid down your squirming body. “I should have you over my knee and spank you until you cry.” He stared deep into your eyes as his hand came to a stop over your lower abdomen. The warmth of his hand reaching your skin even through the apron and the dress. “But I don’t wanna hurt you,” He paused, applying the tiniest bit of pressure against your belly, “Or my baby.” He whispered, looking down to where his hand touched you. 
Him saying it made it all too real. And you couldn’t stop the hot tears from running down your face. Him saying it out loud made it serious. Inescapable. 
“Why didn’t you tell me?” He asked again, with the same accusatory tone. “It’s mine.” He said, reminding you. “You’re mine. So why didn’t you tell me?” 
You didn’t have an answer for him. Just more tears.
“I had to ask around these past couple of days, you know? I asked everyone here and your friends in town and all they told me was that you’d been constantly sick for about two months now.” He scoffed. “Then I found the doctor you went to, had to have her at gunpoint just so she’d show me your file. Apparently you’re about twelve weeks along. And you’ve known for well over a month.” He brought his face closer to yours, grip tightening on your wrists. 
“I’m sorry.” You whispered, sniffling. 
“Sorry?” He mocked, scoffing. “This is where it happened, didn’t it? Last time I was here we didn’t use any protection so that must be it, hmm?” He leaned in and whispered, “I came inside you over and over that last night before I left, remember? It was raining hard, there was a thunderstorm,” You could hear the smirk in his voice. “And you were so scared I had to fuck you to sleep, remember that, baby?” 
His knee had found itself in between your legs, and you’d been mindlessly grinding against it. He looked down and caught your hips moving against his leg and he chuckled. Then his smirk disappeared. 
“Were you gonna keep lying to me?” He asked. “I spoke with your friends and one of them reluctantly told me that you’d been talking about wanting to get away from here. To go somewhere new, out of this little town.” He tightened his grip on your wrists so much that you yelped in pain. “Did you mean to leave me in the dark? Were you just gonna take my kid and leave? Without telling me?” He taunted. “Did you think you could leave me?” He sounded menacing. “Did you think I would hesitate for even a moment before I leave a fucking bloodbath in my wake as I hunt you down, baby?”  
You sighed in frustration even though his voice made you shiver in nervousness. “I did mean to tell you. I didn’t know you would just show up out of nowhere,” You sniffled. “I wasn’t prepared, I didn’t know how to handle all of this.” 
“Prepared?” He sneered. “You’re my woman, and that growing inside you is my kid. What’s there to be prepared for before telling me? I had the right to know!” 
You couldn’t help but sneer right back at him, raising your voice a little, “I wasn’t even sure if you’d want this with me!” 
He let his body weight drop down onto you. His hand moving from your abdomen to your neck. “I’m so fucking angry at you right now. But I fucking love you and it’s pissing me off that you’d even think like that.” 
“Please,” You begged. “I was so scared. And if people found out that you and I–,” 
He cut you off with a bruising kiss. His hands let go of you for a moment only to get rid of all that you were wearing as quickly as he could before holding you close to him again. His slight stubble felt rough against your mouth but you didn’t mind. You’d missed this. Missed him. 
He kissed his way down, toying with your breasts, occasionally rolling and pinching your nipples, making you arch your back off the bed as you cried out louder than he expected. 
That made him look up and ask, “Are they extra sensitive?” 
You nodded. He smirked, and continued anyway. Making you whine and cry out as he kept kissing down your body until he knelt in between your legs. He gently kissed your inner thighs, “You’re so beautiful.” He mumbled and brushed his soft lips along your inner thighs, “And all mine.” He murmured, looking up at you. “I love you.” He said. “I want this, all of this with you. You hear me?” 
Another tear fell down your face. You nodded. 
Then he looked down. “And I love you as well.” He murmured against your belly, pressing his face against it, leaving soft kisses all over. “When will you start showing?” He asked. 
“In a few more weeks maybe.” You answered. 
You could feel him smiling against your skin at the sound of that as he placed both his hands on either one of your knees and separated your legs. 
You could feel his warm breath hit your wet skin as he brought his mouth closer to you. You moaned when you felt his warm tongue lick from your entrance up to your throbbing clit. You felt your heart flutter as a familiar warmth washed over you. You’d missed him so much it was crazy.
Your hand immediately flew to his curly hair, and you grabbed a fistful of it, tugging on it gently as his mouth teased you. His tongue slowly circled around your clit, earning another moan out of you. 
“You’re gonna be such a good mom to my kids, you know that?” He said, before going back to eating you out eagerly. 
Kids? Plural? 
“Kids?” You asked. 
Lando looked up at you again at the same time as you looked down, and you saw the pure hunger in his eyes. “Come on, baby. Did you think we weren’t gonna have more?” You squirmed at the thought of that. He noticed, and smirked. “I’ll come inside you again and again until we have a little army of our own running around.” 
Your eyes rolled back and your legs trembled as you felt his tongue fucking you gently. He secured his arms around your thighs and pushed you further into his mouth, making you cry out of pleasure. And with a couple more strokes of his tongue, he had you coming undone, all over his tongue. 
You felt him kissing his way up your body, leaving warm, wet kisses all over your skin, until he reached your mouth again. His kiss was gentle. When he pulled away, you finally opened your eyes to stare into his pretty ones. You secretly imagined a mini version of you and him, with his eyes. It made you smile without even realising it. 
“You’re mine.” He whispered, his stare was feral, he was hungry. 
You reached up and touched his rough cheek gently. “I’m all yours.” You reminded him. 
He leaned in for a kiss again, rougher this time. He kissed your skin, from your mouth to your neck as he undid and lowered his pants, and carefully slid into you. Your warmth wrapped around him, gripping him and reminding him that you were his. And you always would be. 
You grimace in discomfort at first because it had been way too many weeks since the last time. 
“Am I hurting you?” He asked, kissing your cheek. His breaths were shaky as he held back from fucking as hard and fast as he wanted. “You need me to slow down?” 
“No,” You whispered. “I’m okay.” You turned to look at him. 
He searched your face for any more signs of hurt. When he found none, he moved. He laced your fingers together and pinned both your entwined hands above your head as he sped up into you. You threw your head back as he started rocking in and out of you, his cock moving perfectly against your sensitive walls. He leaned down and kissed your lips again, groaning and panting against your lips as he fucked you with nice and deep strokes.
His hips rolled against your body perfectly, and his body weight pressing down gently on you was comforting and intimate. His grip around your hand tightened each time you’d moan his name under your breath. 
“You’re all mine. You hear that, mama?” He whispered against your lips, and leaned in to kiss you deeply again while he deliberately stroked his cock against your walls as slowly as he could just to make you whine and whimper even more. “Look at me,” he growled quietly under his breath. 
You immediately opened your eyes and stared into his. His stare was intense, but loving as always. His lips were full and swollen as he looked down at you. You felt his cock hit all the right spots each time he moved against you, and his lips parted and he groaned the moment your walls started clenching around him. 
“Mine.” He whispered, his voice deeper now. 
You nodded quickly. “Yours.” 
He leaned down to whisper in your ear. “Then come for me, baby…” He whispered. “Come and let me fill you up again.” 
His voice was enough to take you right to the edge. You felt the pressure and the familiar pressure in between your legs, making you squirm, moan, and gasp for air as your walls clenched violently around him. “Lando…” You moaned. 
“I know, baby. I know.” He murmured against your forehead. 
His hands reached down and grabbed your sides gently, keeping you in place as he sped up into you a little more, his cock slipping in and out of you with ease. Your bodies moved perfectly against each other. He held you as close to him as he could, pushing his face into you and nuzzling your neck as he fucked you relentlessly. 
“You’re so beautiful, and you’re all fucking mine.” He whispered against your skin. “Can’t wait for you to start showing…” He sounded just as out of breath as you were. “Everyone’s gonna know just how much you’re mine.” 
You couldn’t hold back anymore, and with a few more strokes of his cock, you came undone with a loud moan, grinding against him hungrily while he moaned against your lips as he came right after you, kissing you as best he could while he emptied inside you. 
“Fuck…” You gasped for air. 
As was he. 
Lando was careful not to crush you under him like he normally would, and instead moved to lay beside you for a moment, catching his breath for a few seconds before he pulled you into him again, spooning you from behind. 
“I’ve got you, baby.” He said, kissing your shoulder. “I’m here. I’m right here.” He tightened his grip around you. “I love you.” 
You wanted to whisper back that you loved him too, but the day’s tiredness, the orgasm, and your natural instinct to fall deeply asleep right after sex, all of it caught up to you at once. And before you knew it, you passed out in his arms with a faint smile on your face. 
Lando remained awake. He took his time caressing you, and cleaning you before dressing you up in warm clothes. Downstairs, he could hear his people moving around, packing everything just like he’d ordered them too. 
After all, you two would be leaving tonight itself.  
Once he was done with dressing himself, he walked to where you were in deep, deep sleep on his bed. He leaned down and kissed your nose. “I’m doing this for us, baby.” He whispered. “For us and our future family.” 
There was a reason why he’d asked all the staff members to go home early tonight. It was because he didn’t want there to be an audience when he moved out of this house, with you. You were a deep sleeper so this was perfect, he thought. 
No one would know where you two went, you’d disappear without a trace. 
He packed a bag for you as quickly as he could. He could always buy you whatever you needed but he figured you’d want and need some things for the plane ride to come. Toiletries and blankets, mostly. 
“You won’t ever have to worry about a single thing, my love.” He whispered, looking over at you sleeping soundly while he packed in a hurry, checking his guns just in case, and throwing that into the bag as well. “I’m sorry I lied earlier.” He confessed. 
He had. The doctor he interrogated wasn’t just held at gunpoint. Lando had made sure she would never speak again. Your file would be nowhere to be found. And without the doctor, no rumours or gossip would be spreading around the little town about this situation. 
While he was with you tonight, his men had done just as he’d asked them to. They had taken all your stuff from your little apartment and moved it. It would be as if no one ever lived there. 
Earlier this evening, he’d received confirmation from his men that while your friends and family members had been too scared to even question what was happening, they'd agreed to not reach out to authorities regarding your sudden disappearance. Of course, in exchange they would receive sporadic updates about where you are and how you’re doing. 
If they ever acted out of line, well, he would simply take care of it and tell you that your friends and family decided to cut all ties. Because if there was anything he was good at, it was making sure people did exactly what he wanted them to do. 
All in all, Lando had made sure you two would never come back to this place again. 
He thanked whichever god was listening once he managed to get you in the backseat of his car without disturbing your sleep. He got in right after you, while his men filled the other cars with luggage and some things of yours from your apartment. 
Once the cars were all out the gates and all on the way to his private plane, he leaned closer to you, nuzzling your cheek as you laid your head against his shoulder, sleeping soundly and unaware of all that was going on, “This is what you wanted, isn’t it, baby?” He murmured. “We’ll be happy together, you just wait.” He kissed your face and pulled you into a hug, fixing your blanket around you and making sure you were properly warm. 
His hand instinctively found its way to your belly, softly caressing it even though the bump wasn’t there yet. He kept an eye on the cars right in front and right behind, all filled with armed guards. He would need to be extra careful now. He was going to be a father, have a family of his own. He would need to protect you and the future kids with his life. 
Despite the stress and worries, he found himself smiling at the thought of the future. A future with you, and your kids. You were both still fairly young to be parents but he felt ready for it. 
He knew you’d probably throw a fit when you’d wake up and find out that he was literally changing your whole life overnight. He smirked thinking about how fiery you could be sometimes. But it would be too late then. You would be miles away from here, up in the air with nowhere to go. He’d deal with your tantrum on his plane, and remind you that you were his. His to take care of. 
Only his.
part 2
2K notes · View notes
navybrat817 · 5 months
Text
Indulgence
Pairing: Dom!Bucky Barnes x Sub!Female Reader Summary: When Bucky calls, you go to him. Word Count: Over 5.7k Warnings: Explicit sexual content, unprotected vaginal sex, D/s elements, bondage, aftercare, established arrangement, insecurities, pet names, longing, possessive behavior, world building, mix of canon and non-canon, slight feels (it's me, okay?), Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?). A/N: I'm very excited for this new AU, lovelies! There's a deep bond between these two, but we know the road to love isn't always easy. ❤️Beta read by the amazing @whisperlullaby, but any and all mistakes are my own. And thanks to @targaryenvampireslayer for listening to me ramble about this part. Divider by the talented @firefly-graphics. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!
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You had only been asleep for an hour when your phone went off, your eyes barely open as you reached for the device and saw the familiar name appear. “Bucky?” You answered drowsily.
“Hey, angel,” he said roughly, the pet name bringing a sleepy smile to your face. It sounded like he hadn't gotten much sleep either. “I’m sorry I woke you up.”
“It’s okay. I have tomorrow off,” you said, a bit more alert as you sat up. “Are you at your apartment?”
“Yeah, I got back a bit ago,” he replied, swearing under his breath. “It’s really late. I just…”
“Need me,” you finished for him, stretching your back as you stood up. If he wanted to tell you he made it home safely from his latest assignment, he would've sent you a text. You knew by now that a call meant he had to see you in person. “Give me a few minutes?”
“You sure? I understand if you’d rather go back to bed.”
“I’m not going to get any sleep until I know you will, too,” you said. It would drive you crazy. “I want to come over. Okay?”
You wondered if the call dropped since you didn't hear anything on the other end. “Okay. I’ll send a car,” he said. He never let you pay for a ride yourself. “Thank you,” he added so softly you almost missed it.
“You don't need to thank me,” you assured him, though you appreciated hearing it. “I’ll see you soon.”
“I’ll be waiting,” he promised, your heart skipping a beat before he hung up.
You brushed your teeth again before you changed out of your pajamas. The outfit didn't exactly matter. If it had, he would’ve told you what you wear. It wouldn't stay on long anyway. You sensed that this was a night for him to simply blow off some steam or release anything still pent up from his assignment.
You were more than happy to help.
“On my way.” You messaged him a few minutes later as you went out to the car.
You politely greeted the driver before gazing out the window. If anyone had told you months ago that you’d be sleeping with the former Winter Soldier, you would’ve laughed at them for saying something so crazy. You never expected to meet the man, let alone connect with him. That was your life now though. You were sleeping with Bucky Barnes.
But it wasn't that cut and dry.
“I’ll be outside.” He sent back.
You smiled to yourself as you thought about Bucky, the man searching for himself again. After years of enduring horrific pain and having no control over his actions, he felt lost once he was free. In his eyes, he would never be able to right all the wrongs of the atrocities he was forced to commit, but making amends for his past was a start. It wasn't enough though to heal the cracks from within. It couldn't stop him from plunging into the deep abyss of his mind where it once felt whole.
He had to find a way to feel semi-normal again. He needed to do something good for someone else outside of his heroic duties. And he had to do so in an environment where he could express himself openly, honestly, and authentically with a person he could trust.
That was where you came into the picture.
If Bucky called, no matter what time of day and you were available, you went to his place in a car he paid for. You stayed until you were both satisfied. A more crude way to think of it was that you helped him fuck out his frustrations and gave him a means to inflict pleasure on someone instead of hurt. It was a routine you were used to by now.
“You wanna be my angel?”
You may be his angel, but you weren't his girlfriend. He wasn't in a place to have a typical relationship. You weren't just a fuck buddy either. You were his submissive of sorts, along with his confidant and a way for him to find release and some sense of normalcy.
While he sometimes fucked you like a whore, he never once treated you like one. He cared for your well-being and checked in on you the way a boyfriend would. He kept his place stocked with your favorite snacks. You didn't sleep with anyone else and neither did he. You looked out for each other.
Unlike your last boyfriend.
As far as arrangements went, you could do much worse. There were rules set in place. Bucky was honest about his needs and helped you heal your wounds from the failure of your previous relationship. But the more time you spent with him, the more you wanted to be with him.
Was it a recipe for disaster?
The drive seemed faster than usual because before you knew it the car stopped in front of Bucky’s apartment building. Your pulse quickened when you saw the brunette standing by the door, donned in his usual leather jacket. Even from a short distance, he looked massive and heat bloomed in your core as you knew what was to come. He moved to the curb with more grace than a man his size should have, his hard blue eyes set on you through the glass before he opened the door.
His gaze practically set your heart on fire and it went full ablaze when he tenderly smiled. He was stunningly beautiful even in the dark of night. It almost hurt to look back at him.
You had it bad.
“Hey,” he said, offering you his gloved hand to help you out. You hardly ever saw him out without his vibranium hand covered. “It’s good to see you.”
“Hey,” you smiled softly, giving the driver a quick thanks before you got out. “You, too.”
Bucky's large hand moved to the small of your back as he gently led you toward the building and opened the door. He didn't like to linger outside for too long. Neither of you spoke as he guided you to his apartment on the first floor and you didn't push him to make small talk. It was a delicate arrangement and some nights didn't call for filler.
Still, you tried to get a read on his emotions. There was a stiffness to his stance, but he didn't appear upset or angry. You also didn’t spot any obvious injuries.
“Were you hurt?” You asked as he took his keys out. He was only gone for a couple of days, but you knew how dangerous the missions were.
He turned and stared at you, not at all surprised by your question since you always asked. “No, I didn’t get hurt,” he assured you, reaching up to scratch at the stubble on his chin. “But I can't exactly talk about it either. I’m sorry.”
You nodded in understanding. It was information you weren't privy to and you doubted he called tonight to talk about it anyway. He peeled back layers of himself, yet there was so much underneath that you didn't know about. You cared for him regardless.
“Bucky, you don't have to apologize for that,” you reminded him.
“I just feel bad. You can tell me about your work, but I can't always talk about mine,” he said, looking both ways before he poked his head into his apartment.
“My job isn’t as ‘exciting’ as yours,” you teased before he let you in.
Bucky had a nice place. The partially exposed brick walls paired well with the hardwood floors. Tasteful, but not extravagant. The thick curtains in the living room matched the drapes in his bedroom. Since he occasionally slept on the floor by the oversized chair, it helped to block out the sun. He didn't have much as far as decor, but he did have a piece of art that his best friend, Steve, drew hung up in the hall.
He also had a bowl that you made on the console to hold his keys, which he promptly set them in.
It meant something that he even let you into his apartment when others close to him had never been invited.
“Need anything to drink?” He asked, slipping his jacket and glove off.
He had an empty glass waiting on the kitchen island in case you did. While you indulged in a drink now and then, he wouldn't allow you to have too many. He refused to have sex with you if you were inebriated. Said it took consent away and you wouldn't be alert enough to use a safeword if necessary.
He wouldn't budge on that rule.
“No, thanks,” you answered, gazing at him.
His T-shirt strained against his biceps, one flesh and one vibranium. You could still smell his cologne from the small distance across the room, amber and cedarwood. Warm, comforting, dominating. All the things he was to you.
Not the monster he sometimes believed himself to be.
You eyed him as he poured himself a shot of whiskey, the need to soothe him coming forward when you caught a distant look in his eyes. He didn't even make a move to down his drink as he set his hands on the counter and stared off. Maybe he couldn't give you the details about what happened, but you could take care of him.
Because as much as he sometimes had to have control over you, both of you had power in your relationship.
“Bucky?” You gently called out, pulling him from his trance. “You can talk to me, even if you have to keep some things to yourself.”
His shoulders dropped as he sighed. “Three months.”
“I'm sorry?”
“Three months since we started this,” he answered.
You realized he was right when you remembered the date. It felt longer yet still brand new. “Yeah. Three great months,” you smiled.
A knot formed in your stomach when he didn't smile back. “And you still feel safe with me?” He asked, gripping the counter so hard you thought it might crumble in his hands. “You really trust that I won’t hurt you?”
Your smile slipped, the questions like a punch to the gut as you walked toward him. You stopped a foot in front of him to give him some breathing room as he made eye contact. Where had that come from? What happened to make him question that?
“Of course, I feel safe. Not only do I feel safe with you and trust you, I know that you won't hurt me. You will always take care of me,” you said with fierce determination, yet with a vulnerability you couldn't hide. “If I didn't believe that, I wouldn’t be here and I wouldn’t submit to you.”
You told him the same thing the day you two agreed on this arrangement. He wasn't your boyfriend, but he wasn't like your ex. He wouldn't just throw you away without a second thought or ignore your needs. You also had faith in him that he wouldn't harm you.
And as much as you trusted him, he trusted you that much more. If he didn't, he wouldn't have called you in the first place. That meant he still trusted himself around you.
He looked away and asked above a whisper, “Do you still think I'm a good man?”
“Yes,” you replied without hesitation, your heart aching when his jaw clenched. “Bucky, look at me, please.”
He slowly made eye contact with you, a storm swirling in his stare.
“You are a good man,” you stated, needing to reach the part of him that believed it. “And it doesn't matter how many times you ask me that, my answer isn't going to change. Ever.”
Bucky was silent, his breathing the only sound in the space. You were worried that you said the wrong thing before he pushed himself away from the counter. Instead of moving back when he approached, you stood firm, ready to brace the storm. You sometimes felt like a mouse confronted by a lion when he got close, but it sent a thrill through you. Because you meant what you said.
You trusted him and he made you feel safe.
“I just had to hear you say it,” he whispered as he cupped your face.
A fire lit within you as Bucky captured your mouth with his. There was care and tenderness beneath the hunger and you found yourself clinging to his arms as you kissed him back. No one before him had ever kissed you with such desire, such passion. It had you chasing his lips when he pulled away too soon.
“Now go to my room, get undressed, and kneel on the bed facing the headboard,” he ordered, his voice low and allowing the words to sink in just in case you had any objections. Because he was done talking and ready to play.
So were you.
It took you a moment to answer since you had to bite back a whine. “Yes, Sir,” you whispered, feeling his eyes on you as you walked to his bedroom.
You focused on keeping your breathing even as you shed your clothes, taking a moment to fold them before you set them on the chair in the corner. The only time you left your garments on the floor was if Bucky put them there or had you put on a show for him. It was his space and you respected it.
He hadn't told you how long to wait for him, but your heart thumped as you knelt on the queen sized bed. You didn’t see any toys as you glanced around, but there was water, snacks, wipes, and the soft blanket you loved waiting on the nightstand. It took a moment for you to spot that there was a blindfold and scarf on top of the blanket. Your womb clenched in anticipation, an exquisite feeling knowing your patience and obedience would reward you.
Bucky walked through the door a minute later and shut it behind him. The energy shifted completely, both of you ready for each other. As much as you wanted to lift your gaze and look behind you, you kept your eyes downcast as he approached the bed. He cupped your cheek once he was close enough and forced your eyes to meet his.
“My beautiful angel,” he whispered, brushing his thumb along your skin as you glowed from the praise. He reached for the scarf and ran his fingers across the silk as he glanced at you. “As much as I hate to cover those beautiful eyes of yours and restrain you, I want you to concentrate on my touch tonight. Just let me have you.”
A shiver rolled down your spine as you nodded. “Yes, Sir.”
“Hands behind your back,” he said, moving to secure them once you did so. The silk was soft against your skin, almost as soft as the kiss to your shoulder. After years of being restrained, you knew he felt guilty at times taking your control away. The difference was you gave yourself to him willingly. “Tell me your safewords.”
“Green is good. Yellow to pause,” you stated, testing the scarf. He never bound you too tight, but it was enough that you couldn’t slip your wrists free. “Red to stop."
“Good girl,” he praised, pressing a kiss to the corner of your mouth. You turned your head a fraction so he could slot his lips properly over yours. Gentle, yet hot enough to melt your insides. “My good girl.”
He maneuvered you so you were in the middle of the bed and spread your knees a bit further apart. He joined you on his knees, still fully clothed. Casting your gaze down again, you bit your lip when you saw the prominent bulge in his pants. A hand came up to grasp your chin before you could stare for too long and lifted your head. If you were still wearing your panties, they would’ve dampened from his darkened gaze.
“So beautiful and all mine tonight,” he said.
“I’m yours, Sir,” you whispered, the word “always” unspoken.
“And I know you were staring,” he smirked, his fingers working the button and zipper of his jeans. His impressive cock sprang free once he pushed his underwear and pants down far enough and you wished you could lean down and swirl your tongue around the large head. “Greedy angel. Just desperate to have my cock in you.”
“Yes, Sir. Please,” you begged.
He made a show of lifting the blindfold before he slipped it over your head, your body tensing up when your world went dark. Sight was one of the senses you relied on the most. It helped you absorb most of the world around you. And now it was temporarily gone. It felt like your heart would burst from your chest as you breathed a bit heavier. But Bucky was there, softly touching your face until you relaxed.
“Breathe, angel. I’ve got you,” he whispered, drawing a gasp from you when his lips touched yours. His hands mapped your body, brushing along your breasts down to your thighs. You felt him everywhere. “Color?”
“Green,” you whispered as a hand moved around your back and forced you to arch. He was careful not to hurt your arms. “Please.”
Your head fell back with a moan as his lips closed around your nipple. You could practically feel that he looked up at you as he gently suckled. A wave of arousal crashed through you as he pinched the other. No one had ever lavished your body with such attention the way Bucky did.
“I love seeing you like this,” he murmured against the swell of your breast. “Helpless. Trembling. Needy.”
You didn't mean to let such a wanton moan escape, but he made you feel needed. He made you feel wanted. It was a beautiful thing to surrender to him.
“And I love that I'm the one you trust to take care of you.”
“I trust you with my life, Sir,” you moaned.
And your heart, even though he had the power to break it.
Your chest suddenly felt colder when Bucky pulled his mouth and hand away and you shook from the loss of his heat. His vibranium hand touched your torso to remind you he was close when he shifted closer to you on the bed. You gasped when he dragged his hand down and you were helpless to do anything but feel when it slid between your legs.
“You're doing so well for me,” he said, his teeth grazing your neck as his fingers spread your sopping folds. He teased you, letting you soak his metal fingers as you mewled. He lightly bit you again when he replaced his fingers with his cock, sliding along your slit, but not pushing inside you just yet. “You want me inside you? You need me to fuck you, don't you? Tell me.”
Your cheeks flamed as you whined. “I need you to fuck me, Sir,” you said, trying to widen your thighs to take him in more.
“I will. I'm going to give you everything you need,” he rumbled, gripping your hips with strong and capable hands to keep you still. “And you’re going to let me ruin your pretty little pussy with my cock.”
You panted with want at his possessiveness. Filthy words were something you never thought you’d hear from someone associated with The Avengers and they kicked your body into overdrive. You ached to have him split you open. “Ruin me, Sir.”
In one swift move he lifted you, pulled you into his lap, and buried himself to the hilt. Your mouth fell open as you let out a cry, every inch of his cock stretching and making itself at home in your welcoming cunt. You couldn't brace yourself on his shoulders with your hands behind your back. You couldn't see the ecstasy in his eyes as he let you adjust to his size, but you didn't have to. Not with the way he dug his fingers in and groaned against your shoulder.
He took you to heaven when he was inside you.
“Color,” he said against your skin, thrusting his hips up once.
“Green,” you moaned, reminding yourself to stay still when you wanted him to move. “So green.”
“Good girl,” he whispered, gently kissing up to your ear. “Keep being good while I bounce you up and down on my cock.”
Your eyes fluttered behind the blindfold as he pulled you up and slammed you back down on his cock. Your tongue felt heavy in your mouth and your heart beat frantically in your chest. It was difficult to string thoughts together, but they all went back to him and how good he made you feel. How he made you feel beautiful.
Flaws and all.
“It’s like your cunt was made for me, angel. Practically crying all over my cock,” his voice was smoky as sounds of pleasure tumbling from your lips. The next moan was softer when he slid a hand up to your neck, resting it there as the other kept your hips flush against his. “You deserve to feel good because you are good. So fucking good.”
Your lower lip trembled as a sob worked its way to your throat, “Thank you, Sir,” you whimpered before he squeezed.
“And I. Deserve. You.” He punctuated each word with a deep thrust. You didn’t have to see his face to know the fury that surfaced. “My angel. Mine.”
It overwhelmed you as he bounced you in his lap, sinking you down onto him again and again. His thrusts were almost unforgiving, but the hand on your throat didn’t tighten anymore. He couldn’t hurt you. He wouldn’t hurt you.
“I’m your angel, Sir,” you moaned as he reduced you to a needy wet mess.
“I wanna tear you apart,” he growled against your lips. “And put you back together so you still feel me when you fucking breathe.”
“Tear me apart, Sir,” you gasped, a plea for him to use you more. Your thighs hit his as he thrust up and all you could do was take it. He touched places inside you no one else could reach, physically and emotionally, and you never wanted it to stop. “Please!”
“Tell me you need me to come inside you and I’ll let you come,” he ordered, the hand on your neck squeezing a fraction. “Say it.”
“Come inside me, Sir,” you begged.
“Bucky,” he breathed against your lips. “Say. My. Name.”
Your next breath was shaky. He always had you call him “Sir” on nights like this. Why was this different?
Your orgasm began to crest, but you couldn’t let go until you gave him what he wanted. And he’d give you what you needed. “Come inside me, Bucky,” you exhaled. “Please.”
He swiped his thumb along your pulse with a deep groan, his cock still driving up into you. “I will after you come,” he promised, his tongue sliding past your parted lips and pulling away all too quickly. “C’mon, angel. Come for me. Show me you’re mine.”
The sob you tampered down earlier resuraced, wrenched from your throat as you came. Your release continued, practically leaking around his cock as tears slid out beneath the blindfold. You were beyond rational thought as pleasure spiraled through you, vaguely aware that he thrust through it to chase his own end.
“Good. Fucking. Girl.” He grunted, pulsing hotly inside you as he filled you up.
Both of you panted as you continued to drift from euphoria, your heart still beating wildly. You were warm, but your body shivered as he lifted you up. Your combined release slid from your aching cunt once he slipped free. You floated and wanted him to catch you, but you couldn’t put your arms around him.
“I’ve got you,” he whispered when you let out a whimper. He made quick work of untying your wrists so he could lay you down properly and wipe away the tears still on your cheeks. “I’m going to take the blindfold off.”
Your eyes stayed shut for a moment when Bucky removed it, but you cracked them open when you wanted to see him. Your vision slowly cleared as you blinked a few times, your mind still floating as he came into view. He called you an angel, but he was the one who had a halo around his head at the moment. A gorgeous angel who had unrightfully had his wings taken away. He smiled like he wanted to eat you alive, but his touch was nothing short of tender when he brought his hand to your face.
“So fucking beautiful. You did so well for me. Fuck, I just wanna clean you with my tongue and fill you up all over again,” he praised as you clenched around nothing and whined. As hot as it sounded, you needed a bit of rest after that. “Not tonight,” he smiled, keeping a hand on you as he grabbed a wipe.
A reason he had everything close by was because you craved his touch after sex. If he ever got too far away, you whimpered and reached for him. It made you feel needy, but he assured you that he needed to keep touching you just as badly.
It just wasn’t fair that he looked so composed.
Bucky continued to shower you with soft praise as he cleaned you up. It didn’t take him long before he wrapped the soft blanket around you, trembles moved through your entire body as he put his arms around you, too. He took aftercare very seriously. It was a way for you to feel cared for and nurtured while allowing your body and brain to return back to normal. He never wanted you to experience negativity or sadness after any sort of session, especially an intense one.
You were aware that he moved you closer in his arms and rested his cheek against the top of your head, but you weren't ready to speak yet. It always took you a minute to come back to yourself and he was never one to rush or push you. If relaxing in his embrace was what it took to return to the world, he was more than content to keep you in his arms.
At least, that was what he told you.
You opened your eyes after a few minutes. Your heartbeat was back to a steady rhythm, but you still weren't ready to move yet. You were warm and safe. Bucky was there to take care of you. But what about him?
Had you taken care of him?
Bucky had a faint smile on his face when you lifted your head, his shoulders relaxed and eyes soft. Like he was at ease with everything around him. “Welcome back, angel,” he whispered, peppering your face with light kisses.
“Hey,” you smiled tiredly, your voice a little hoarse as you brought a hand to his hair, happy that you could touch him again. Judging by the way his eyes slipped shut for a moment before he opened them, he missed your touch, too.
“You okay?”
“I am and so are you. You're okay.” It wasn't a question. Whatever haunted him earlier was gone.
For now.
He didn't tear his gaze away as he reached for the water behind him, which you gratefully accepted as he put it to your lips. “You amaze me, you know? You just came back to yourself, but you're talking about me being okay.”
“Isn’t that why you call me?” You asked with a small frown, taking another large sip. “To help you?”
His brows furrowed. “It’s not just about me. This is about you, too.”
You took one more drink before you could say something stupid. Yes, this was about you, too. How he didn't push too far. How he’d hold you after sex and talk with you because those things were important to you. How he made you feel cherished and wanted for a short while.
You just didn't want to admit that he was a constant in your mind. But would it be so wrong if you did? Even if he’d never date you, didn't he have a right to know how you felt?
Communication was key and you would have to eventually tell him if those feelings persisted.
“It’s about both of us and I just want you to be okay,” is what you said because it was the truth.
He set the water aside and cupped your cheek, his calloused hand a little cool, but nice. You almost wished you could hide from his knowing eyes, but he didn’t press you for more. “I am now,” he said, swallowing a little. “I just couldn't let you see me tonight.”
Worry filled his eyes like he may have upset you, but you shook your head. You had seen his scars, but he was never obligated to show you his body. “You're letting me see you now,” you said, scooting closer as he brought your wrist to his mouth to kiss it.
You thought about how the evening played out. How he asked if you thought he was a good man. How he demanded that you speak his name. And how he said he deserved you. Either something happened while he was gone or someone said or did something to get to him. You wished you knew what it was since he didn’t expand on what had been eating away at him before.
“And before you ask, you didn't hurt me,” you told him, knowing the question was coming. You appreciated that he cared enough to check.
He pressed a kiss to your temple. “Good because I’d never stop hating myself if I did,” he admitted, looking at the ceiling for a moment. “You don't deserve that kind of pain.”
Your heart swelled, not letting any past hurt enter your mind. He made you believe that you deserved better than what you had. It was a good feeling.
“Neither do you. And that's a reason why safewords exist. Both of us can use them,” you reminded him. Like aftercare, he took the words seriously. He listened to you. And if he ever got overwhelmed, he had every right to stop it the same way you did. “So no self-hate tonight.”
He huffed in mock annoyance. “Yes, ma’am. And speaking of self-hate,” he teased, tilting his head to look your way. “I really don’t want to go to therapy tomorrow.”
There was a forced calmness in his blue eyes as you assessed him. “You still don’t like your therapist,” you stated.
One of the conditions of his pardon was that he had to go to therapy. It was meant to help him process his thoughts and past experiences in order to work through them. Though he didn’t tell you what went on in his sessions as it was none of your business, he didn’t keep it a secret from you that the doctor was far from his favorite person.
You wondered if Bucky told her about you.
“What’s there to like?” He asked.
You smiled a little, knowing better than to poke the bear and say she probably wasn't that bad. “Well, being able to speak to someone who provides non-judgemental and empathetic support is one thing.”
“That’s why I like talking to you,” he said, the affection in his voice making your heart skip a beat.
“Oh,” you said, not sure what else to say.
Moments like that made you think he cared. No, that wasn’t right. You knew he cared about you. But hearing things like that made you feel like there was hope for more and he wasn’t ready for that.
Hope was both a wonderful and dangerous thing.
“Have you met anyone else?” He asked suddenly, moving his hand to your back.
It was a question Bucky asked every time he had you over. He said from the start if there was another man in your life that you’d rather be with, someone who could offer you more, he’d step aside. There wasn't anyone else. You didn't want anyone else.
And while it was admirable that he would walk away if that ever changed, your heart ached at the thought that he’d easily let you go. Because at the end of the day he wasn't ready for a relationship. Not yet.
Even if he was, who said he wanted one with you?
“No, I haven't met anyone,” you said, feeling the warm breath of his exhale against your skin as his hand moved up and down your back. It relaxed you more and you found yourself fighting a yawn. “Have you?”
“No,” he chuckled. The crinkles by his eyes made him look carefree. “Not since you saved me.”
You shut your eyes, afraid that tears would well up if you looked at him. “I didn't save you. All I did was buy you a coffee one afternoon,” you whispered dismissively.
That day changed your life.
“I’m going to let that slide since you're sleepy, but I’m going to remind you when you're wide awake that you did a lot more than that,” he spoke. He held you a little tighter when you stayed quiet. You were more tired than you thought. “Get some sleep, angel. I’ll be here when you wake up.”
You let your eyes shut at his command. “Thank you for taking care of me, Bucky.”
“Thank you for taking a chance on me.”
There was something else unspoken in the air, but a tender kiss to your forehead stopped you from reading too deeply into it.
In the morning, he’d send you back to your place after he made you breakfast. He’d text you later to make sure you were okay. He would continue to check in and you would do your best not to fall for him more. Because one day he wouldn't need you anymore. You didn't know when that day would come, but tonight you could indulge in the fantasy that Bucky wanted you to be his girl.
Permanently.
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I just want these two happy and together. Love and thanks for reading! ❤️
Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi
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mockerycrow · 10 months
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Frozen Fingertips [2/2] (Ghost x GN!Reader)
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ghost masterlist - part one
Summary: Ghost struggles to keep you alive through these harsh times.
A/N: I’m so glad you guys enjoyed part one!! i did not shrink the font of this one because i realized that it may strain some peoples’ eyes. this is not as angsty as i wished it to be, and it isn’t as long as i hoped. i apologize. tbh i don’t like this, but i hope y’all enjoy
[WARNINGS: Descriptions of developing hypothermia and frost bite, delirium, near-death experience(s), angst to fluff.]
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THE BLIZZARD WAS not stopping and it didn’t show signs of stopping any time soon, which honestly terrifies Ghost because of your awful condition. Despite his previous efforts, you quickly slipped back into a delirious state of developing hypothermia—a state you weren’t completely aware of, but you knew something was wrong. You could vaguely acknowledge the way that you were fading in and out wasn’t normal, but it wasn’t like you could do anything about it. What you hated was the painful tingling and the weird.. harsh cold entering your lungs every time you took a deep breath. You’re so warm, yet your lungs burn cold.
You only saw times in glimpses—what you thought was likely a matter of hours, expanded across a matter of a few days. The harsh blizzard was unwavering, it’s snow falling from the sky harshly messing with the radio signals. Ghost would sit by the window with his personal radio on his vest, along with the emergency signal radio he had stowed in his pack. He would get small glimpses of other peoples voices—Price’s would come through occasionally, luckily long enough for Ghost to update him about their situation and their whereabouts, your condition; but Ghost was never able to provide an update about an exact location. The windows were frosted over and even when they weren’t, all Ghost saw was endless snow and pine trees far as the eye can see, until they eventually faded from view due to the snow coverage. Every time Ghost suddenly becomes aware of his breath, he can’t help but glance over at you; wrapped up in two sleeping bags, sitting way too close to the fireplace—sometimes shuddering, and sometimes.. not moving at all. His heart drops to his stomach when he doesn’t see your breath in the air. He calls your name loudly, firm and demanding and when you don’t answer, he scrambles from his position by the window. “Fuck,” He utters. “Fuck!”
Ghost ignores the pain in his knees when they harshly bash against the ground as he kneels next to you. He grabs your face by your cheeks, startled by the hue of blue on your lips. “Bloody bell—wake up!” Ghost snarls, somehow managing to keep his voice steady. He holds his breath until he sees your chest slowly yet shakily rise—and then you exhale very slowly, and clearly with amounts of trouble. Relief floods Ghost’s veins, but it’s quickly replaced by frustration and panic. You gasp quietly before you begin to shiver uncontrollably again, and taking Ghost completely by surprise; you open your eyes. Your eyes are glazed over, your eyelids puffy. “[Name]?” Ghost questions, his eyes staring hard into yours, silently noting your dialed pupils. “[Name], can you hear me?” If you do, you don’t make coherent indication. Your tongue darts out and wets your lips before you croak out, “I gotta pee.” Ghost huffs and shakes his head, his hand shooting up and laying on your chest—which is covered by many thicker layers, so disregarding Ghost’s hand, it’s not very likely you could’ve gotten up without help, anyway. “You went an hour ago, yeah? You need to stay layin’ down.” You groan and despite your arms being tucked into your multiple covers, something moves against the fabric as if to swat Ghost’s hand away. Ghost can’t help but swallow nervously; he isn’t stupid, he’s aware you’re in one of the stages of hypothermia, he told Price as much. He’s been able to keep the frostbite at bay, but he’s running out of firewood. It’s snowing way too damn hard for him to even pick up stray logs and sticks laying around. Your slowed heartrate, increased urge to urinate, slow cognitive functions, slurred speech, cold skin—blue lips..
It’s not looking good and Ghost doesn’t want to think about that, but that’s all he can see of you right now, so how could he not? And it’s hard both mentally and physically to stay in this cabin, seeing you deteriorate while he himself is getting absolutely fucking freezing. Ghost has had to shed a layer or two just to keep you alive. He can’t deny the way the cold air is scratching at his skin, seeping through his balaclava and into his jaw, nearly making his bones hurt. Ghost clenches his teeth as he shudders for a moment, eyes fluttering closed just long enough to gain his composure. Fuck. Ghost doesn’t want to die here. He doesn’t want you to die here, not like this. Not in a run-down abandoned cabin with shitty insulation, where frostbite is nipping at your fingers and where the cold is finally getting to Ghost’s head. He grits his teeth and sits back on his ass normally with a gloved hand to his head, his vision absolutely swimming. “Stop it,” He grunts quietly. “Hafta stay up.” Ghost takes a deep breath and grunts as he pushes himself to his feet, his boots booming against the wooden floor as he walks over to the area where the firewood is kept. He grabs a few of the pre-cut logs and he makes his way over to you and the fireplace, tossing the logs into the ashes, slowly refueling the dying embers. Ghost sniffles a little under his mask as he grabs a piece of paper and takes out a lighter, lighting it on fire before quickly tossing it into the fireplace to make a better fuel source. He crouches near the growing fire, taking his spot by your feet. Ghost sucks in a shuddering breath and rubs his upper arms, and he can’t help but take another glance at you. You stopped trying to get out of your warm enclosure of blankets, but your eyes were darting around the room slowly, unfocused and hazy.
Ghost’s chest clenches for a moment and he walks back over to your shivering form, and he already did it, but he presses his fingers against your lukewarm skin—nearly cold. Your eyes flutter again and then they vaguely glance in the direction that you think he’s in; which you’re almost right, but a few inches off. You try to speak but a quiet choked noise leaves you, your breathing shaky—finally from fear this time. Ghost puts his finger to his mask in a shushing motion, trying his best to keep you calm. “You’ll be alright, yeah? Gotta wait until the storm’s done brewing out there.” He attempts to reassure your delirious brain, but you can only make another “out of it” noise before your eyes flutter shut once again, you losing consciousness. Ghost feels an ugly and dreadful feeling deep in his gut, scratching at his veins, climbing them until his fingertips are cold both due to the temperature and panic. Ghost has always insisted he doesn’t panic, and he hasn’t—until now. Not until he fears the storm won’t pass over and help won’t arrive until you’re frozen and stiff under your fear, despite his desperate attempts to keep you warm—and alive. Ghost doesn’t want to admit it, but fuck, he’s terrified to fall asleep because out of the two of you, what if he’s the only one who wakes up?
Ghost’s eyelids flutter for a moment before he inhales in a sharp manner and his spine straightens up, his hands clenching together for a moment. “M’not going to fall asleep.” He mutters to himself as he takes his place next to you on the floor and holy hell, the floor is cold—so he silently scoots closer to you and wraps an arm around your body, and Ghost uses his other arm as a pillow. Your chest very slowly rises and falls, and he finds comfort in the sight of a sign of you being alive—you’re still here with him, and that’s all he needs.
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Ghost is awoken from a banging on the cabin door. He jolts ever so slightly, but he’s immediately hit with chills, his limbs trembling. Fuck, he fell asleep. His eyelids feel like sandbags and and he can’t stop fucking shaking—and he feels so heavy.. so tired. “Ghost!” A familiar voice yells outside of the cabin. His arm wraps around your form tighter when he doesn’t immediately recognize the British accent behind the door, he grunts as he clumsily sits up and pulls you closer, his trembling hand grasping as his hip, taking out his service pistol. The door opens as he attempts to aim it, his weak and low voice hissing out, “I’ll blow your fuckin’ brains out—“
“Ghost, it’s Price. We found you. Put the gun down.”
Ghost blinks slowly as he looks at the figure who slowly approaches, two others trailing behind—and it is Price—with Gaz and Soap. Ghost sharply inhaled and his arm lowers, the pistol slipping out of his grip. Gaz rushes over to him and your limp form, taking off his gloves. “We got you, Ghost. We got you.” Price assures, but his lips are pressed together as he watches Gaz. Ghost’s head rolls back for a moment, blacking out for a few seconds—Soap’s hands catching his head before it hits the floor. “They’re alive,” Gaz grunts out, leaning down to pick you up bridal style while keeping all of the layers around your body. “Barely, but we gotta get ‘em both to warmth. Now.”
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When Ghost finally comes to, the first thing he notices is the smell—it doesn’t smell like rotting and burning wood; his lungs don’t burn with every breath and he can keep his fingers. The second thing he notices is the ache within his throat and his limbs, and the third thing he notices is that he is not wearing his mask. He still feels heavy, but it’s not the kind of heavy where you want to sleep forever heavy. It’s a.. comforting heavy. Someone laying on top of him heavy. It takes him a hot second to open his eyes, and another second to adjust to the harsh lights of the hospital room—oh, wait, they’re not that bad, his head just hurts. Ghost notices someone laying their head on the bed on top of Ghost, their arms under their head as a cushion. He blinks blearily as he doesn’t register it at first; the hospital gown, two IV drips for two separate patients, and the bandages covering your fingers—it’s you. His eyes widen and he lets out a quiet noise, causing you to lift your head up immediately and look at him with the most vulnerable look you could ever have, your eyes wide and bulging like when a child doesn’t know whether to believe the adult in front of them. “Ghost?” You ask, and fuck, your throat croaks. Your vocal cords sound like they’ve been torn apart and reattached, croaking with relief and pain. He swallows thickly and he nods for a moment, unable to find his voice. Your eyes soften for a moment before you whisper to him. “Hurts to talk, huh? Me too.”
Then don’t, said his silent gaze. Yet, somehow, you manage to catch on his memo. Wordlessly, you reach up to one of his hands—covered in scars and calluses, but you don’t mind. Your hands are similar as you nervously glance at him, grabbing his wrist and turning it over so his palm faces up. Ghost eyes your movements, but makes no move to stop you. You take one of your pointer fingers—the one that isn’t bandaged—and you trace letters into his hand slowly.
T H A N K Y O U
Ghost meets your gaze, and you have tears in your eyes. His hand is grossly limp as he grabs the hand you were moving away, and he instead pulls your hand closer to his face for a closer inspection. The bandages concern him, so he looks at you again. You reach for the clipboard you left by his feet and you place it in his lap, pointing to the part of the medical report about your frostbite blisters. Ghost inhales deeply for a moment before his fingers tap against your hand—rhythmically? Oh, it’s morse code.
Ghost is tapping SAFE over and over while looking at you, to reassure himself—and you. You nod in response and offer him the smile he’s been waiting to see and you tap back to him, SAFE.
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soullumii · 1 year
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carry out | javier peña x f!reader
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javier peña x afab!reader
summary: javier’s messy way of dealing with business causes the two of you to work late. he offers to buy you carry out to apologize for making you stay late (and, more reluctantly, for making you miss the date you had planned). then he offers something else to make it up to you.  warnings: 18+ content mdni, smut [oral sex (f receving), unprotected piv], soft!javi, smiley!javi, sassy!reader, praise kink (for both reader and javi), javi likes to please, pet names (chiquita, baby, querida, sweetheart, angel), lots of uses of the word ‘fuck’, might be a little ooc?, no use of y/n. word count: 5k-ish?
inspired by carry out by timbaland
---
The last time you looked out the windows of the U.S. embassy, the sky was fading from blue to a pale orange. Now, when you peek up from the mountain of paperwork in front of you, the stars are the only thing visible, everything else bathed in darkness.
You can't remember the last time you actually went home on time from your job as a secretary. It had to be before Peña and Murphy started working here. With them around, your overtime hours stretched longer and longer. 
It’s for a good cause, you remind yourself. Because, truly, it is. Catching the Narcos is top priority. It’s just hard to remember that when you’re drowning in paperwork and have to cancel the plans you had made a week ago for this shit.
“Look, I’m really sorry again. It’s still crazy over here,” you apologize into the plastic transmitter for the second time this evening, twirling the curly wire around your finger. The first time you called your date was a couple hours ago when you had to relay the unfortunate state of your situation: multiple things to do and not nearly enough hours in the workday to do them. Thus, staying overtime.
“No worries. We can go out tomorrow instead.”
You smile, “Thanks, Michael. That sounds great.”
You hang up the phone and the moment it hits the switch, your expression transforms into a deep frown. You send the most withering glare you can manage to the only man left in the room and the cause of all your problems: Javier fucking Peña. If looks could kill, yours would, but unfortunately, they cannot. And Javier doesn’t even seem to notice, his nose buried in his own respective papers. The hard line of his brow is furrowed over his dark eyes, the skin between his brows pinched in a way that makes you itch to smooth it out. Not for his benefit, but for your own, because it is awfully infuriating.
His normally perfectly coiffed hair is curling over his forehead, ruffled a bit at the edges as if he’s been anxiously running his hands through it, and one hand twirls a pen between his fingers while the other is pushed up against his temple. Seems like the long hours are getting to him, too. 
Good.
“Michael again, huh?” Javier comments, still staring down at his documents. His pen scribbles on a notepad. “He’s… clingy.”
You staple a few papers together, and if the stapler clamps down a bit harder than you mean it to, you can hardly be at fault for that.
“If that’s clingy, I worry about the women you’ve been with. They probably thought you hated them.” You retort, not looking up. 
“Quite the opposite, angel.”
Arrogant bastard, your mind supplies. 
You don’t grant him the satisfaction of a response, focusing instead on the work in front of you. And you want to scream. Or cry maybe. Because this is literally all his fault. 
If it weren’t for the shit he bothered you with earlier, and the multiple times he interrupted Ambassador Noonan, you wouldn’t be here trying to play catch up—rescheduling all the meetings she had to miss and filing reports for the classified information Javier “stole” from the files room, to which you did not give him permission to take, but still received shit for anyway. 
And, of course, you received shit for “letting” him in. Which you did not do! He had just waltzed in, hours after you had told him multiple times that he was not allowed in and that you were not allowed to let him in. 
You glare at him again, and this time he’s looking at you, a single dark eyebrow raised. 
You’d quite like to strangle him. 
“You gonna tell me what these looks mean or am I just supposed to guess?” He asks, bemused. 
“I’m mad at you,” you grit.
“Really? I couldn’t tell.”
The papers in your hold crumple as your fingers tighten. You can hear your molars grinding against each other as you try to hold back your anger. This fucking asshole—! 
“Is this about earlier?”
“Yes. It is.”
He sighs, setting his pen down. “Look, we really needed to get that information and I already said—“
You interrupt him again with a barely concealed snarl. “Sure, right. You’re sorry, and you needed it, but I’m always the one that has to deal with the fallout, while you go prance about and fuck whores and get congratulations. And now we’re here late and I had to cancel my date and I’m so behind.” You bury your face into your palms with a groan of exasperation.
You peek through your fingers to glare at Javier again only to notice... is that …guilt reflecting in his brown eyes? Gods above, you didn’t think he was capable of feeling that emotion, or any, for that matter.
(You know he is. There had been a few times at the local bar with Steve, or in the parking lot after a late shift when he had shown the other side of him. When he’d talk about his family, or life back in the States, you saw something other than a flirtatious smirk or a tense look on his face. Something softer. Warmer. It was…disarming. And terribly addicting.) 
Even so, this whole situation is because of him, so you push away the instinctual urge to forgive him just to wipe that look off his face.
Javier stands, straightening his papers and shoving them in a manila folder stamped with the word “CLASSIFIED” on top. You drop your gaze back to your work, trying to drown out the sound of him packing up.
Yeah. Fine. You go home, while I’m stuck here. 
You’re almost able to read the words swimming in front of you when you’re interrupted by Javier leaning over your desk on his elbows, his leather jacket stretching audibly over his broad shoulders. He drops your coat down next to him on the polished mahogany and you tilt your head to regard him with suspicion, a snarky remark on the tip of your tongue.
He beats you to the punch. 
“Are you even getting anything done anymore?” He asks, gesturing to your papers. You’ve reread the same paragraph about five times by now, you think. 
“Actually, yes—“
He rudely interrupts you with a crooked grin. “Don’t lie to me, sweetheart. You’re terrible at it.” He taps your coat with two fingers. “Come on.”
“But I’m not done y—“
“I don’t care.” He interrupts, again. “I want to get out of here and you need to get out of here. Seriously. Let’s get something to eat, I’ll pay for it to make up for my shitty behavior.”
You stare at him in genuine surprise, jaw slack. “Wow, the Javier Peña can actually admit when he fucks up? I’m in shock.”
“Yeah, well, I’m not a complete ass.”
“That’s debatable.” 
He frowns. “Do you want food or not?”
“Are you threatening to go back on your word? That’s low even for you, Peña. I’m pretty sure when you’re in debt to someone you’re supposed to be treating them with respect—“
He grumbles and turns for the door. “Never mind about the empanadas, then.”
Your chair audibly screeches over the tile flooring as you jump up, slinging your jacket over your shoulder. “Wait! I’m coming.”
You try your damn best to ignore the amused smile on his face that, to your chagrin, makes him look rather handsome as you follow him out to his Jeep Cherokee.
“If I had known food won you over so easily I would’ve used that a long time ago.” He jokes as he turns the car on. You buckle yourself in.
“Yeah, well, don’t expect me to be so eager next time. I’m only accepting this because I was deprived of my meal tonight.” 
He pulls out onto the road. 
“Sorry you didn’t get to have a date full of awkward pauses and subpar food, sweetheart.” 
You scoff at his audacity. "Goes to show how much you know about enjoying something other than sex with a woman."
"I know how to take a woman out on a date," he insists, glancing at you.
"Don't lie to me sweetheart, you're terrible at it," you echo his words from earlier back at him with a saccharine smile.
“Ha ha. Very funny.”
After a moment, he finally speaks again, tone genuinely sincere. “I hope you know I really am sorry for everything and making you stay late."
It takes you by surprise, and you meet his stare. His brown eyes look almost black in the darkness. A shiver travels up your spine. 
His eyes should be illegal.
You clear your throat, straightening in your seat. “Yeah, well, we’ll see if I forgive you after my food.” 
He chuckles at that, “Okay.”
Eventually he pulls the Jeep into the parking lot of your favorite local place (how did he know?) and then you’re standing in line to order. It’s ten at night and somehow there is still a line. Well, it is your (and everybody else’s) favorite for a reason. 
Javier manages to convince you to bring your empanadas back to his place. 
“We live right next to each other.”
“All the more reason for me to go home.”
“I have dessert. I’m trying to make it up to you.”
“Ugh, fine.” 
(You really don’t mind it. You just like to give him a hard time.)
So you order carry out.
His keys jangle as he unlocks the door to his apartment, and he sets the containers of carry out on his coffee table. He shrugs out of his leather jacket, and you do the same, trying not to stare at the way the sleeves of his button up stretch tantalizingly over his biceps, nor at the way his strong forearms are on display. 
Listen. He might annoy the fuck out of you, but you can admit that he is quite...attractive.
“Make yourself at home. Want a drink?” He asks, already grabbing two glasses.
“Sure, whiskey is fine. Since I’m assuming that’s all you have.”
“You know me so well.”
You look around his apartment and notice it's sparsely decorated, which makes sense to you, although, it still feels cozy in a way. 
The lamps reflect a gentle warm hue over the barren walls, save for a few government installed abstract paintings. Somehow, compared to your apartment in the same building, his place feels more comfortable. 
There’s a hand-knitted afghan sitting over the back of his couch and you twist the fraying yarn between your fingers as you admire the handiwork. 
“My abuela made that, before she died.” Javier says gently, handing you a glass of whiskey. 
“It’s beautiful.” 
“Yeah. She was really talented. This was the only thing I wanted to take with me from the States.” He takes a sip from his glass. 
“Did she knit a lot?”
He nods. “All of the time, it felt like. Can’t remember the last time I didn’t see her in a rocking chair, a ball of yarn at her feet.” He muses, and these are the moments with Javier that you crave. You wish you had more of them. The way he softens when he gets that damned smile on his face… the way the crows' feet around his warm brown eyes deepen... It's, as you said before, terribly addicting.
You smile gently. “Where’s all her work now?”
“With my dad. He hardly let me go with this.” 
You chuckle, and then Javier’s gesturing to the couch. 
“Come on.”
You follow him over to the couch and he settles down into the cushions with a sigh, resting an arm lazily across the back. You sit perched awkwardly on the end. All of a sudden, the room feels too small. It smells like him, like tobacco and sage and… man. 
You’re finally realizing how close you’ve been to him this entire evening, and your body is certainly realizing it too. 
See, this is why you had a date tonight. 
“Relax,” he tells you.
“I am.”
“You’re not,” he leans forward, a smirk growing on his lips. “I’m not gonna bite, if that’s what you’re worried about.”
You scoff, but a stubborn flush works its way into your cheeks. “No, ‘course not.”
You grab your container and Javier follows, and soon he’s got the TV on and you’re both enjoying your empanadas with the gentle noise of the Price is Right in the background. You relax into the cushions, your exhaustion encouraging you to do so before your brain can stop you.
It’s nice though. He’s… nice. 
“Hey," Javier eventually mumbles into the space between you. 
“Hm?”
“I’m gonna make sure the guys don’t come after you again for the bad decisions I make."
You roll your head to look at him, eyes narrowed in disbelief. “Really?”
“Yeah,” he nods. “It’s about time I took responsibility for the shitty things I’ve done."
“No truer words have ever been spoken.” You deadpan. It earns you a quiet chuckle, and you smile, turning your attention back to the TV.
You polish off your empanadas, licking the juices and bread crumbs from your fingers, and you think you see Javier watching you raptly out of the corner of your eye, but then you blink and his eyes are on the TV, as if he’d never been looking over at you in the first place. 
Damn, you need to sleep. 
“So,” he clears his throat, “Is this better than the date with Michael would’ve been?” 
You groan dramatically. “Why are you so bothered by him?”
“‘M not.” He says, but it sounds unconvincing even to your ears. “Just curious.”
“Are you jealous, Javi?” You grin into your glass of whiskey, the alcohol pouring warmth into your bloodstream, along with that heady, outlandish, and fleeting thought of him actually being jealous, maybe even possessive over you.
You really need to sleep. 
“‘Course not. Just want to make sure our little secretary is treated right.”
“I’m hardly treated right at work, this guy would probably be a step up from the people that talk to me on a daily basis.”
“I hope you don’t mean me.”
“I especially mean you.”
He sighs heavily, his head falling back against the cushions. He levels you with a pleading look, lips in a pout. “Come on, chiquita. When will you forgive me?”
Chiquita. That’s new. 
You tap your chin, glancing about as if in thought, attempting to ignore the giddy feeling curling in your stomach at the pet name. “I dunno…You still haven’t convinced me that you’re truly sorry.” 
Of course he has. You just like to stir the pot.
“No?”
“Nope,” you pop the ‘p’ dramatically, grinning smugly as you tease him.  “You’re missing the whole groveling and begging on your knees, bit.”
It’s a joke. Seriously. You think he'll just laugh, wave it off, and then you’ll actually forgive him. But that’s not what happens at all. 
Because he’s slowly lowering himself to the floor, all while keeping strict eye contact with you. The air rushes out of your lungs in a single, astonished, harsh exhale. 
“What…what are you doing?” You breathe, because seriously, what the hell is he doing? 
“Groveling. Isn't that what you want, chiquita?” 
He places himself in between your legs, and you really should be pushing him away, but instead your legs spread to make room for him. The movement has his eyes darkening significantly. 
Fuck. What are you doing?
“Javi…” You whisper, eyes wide.
A large, warm hand comes up to grip your right calf, massaging your muscles gently with thick, strong fingers while the other kneads at your left ankle. His lips press up against your leg in a soft kiss. 
“Let me show you how truly sorry I am,” he whispers against your calf, chocolate eyes boring into you. Heat licks at your core in white hot flames. 
Okay. Okay, wait, this is actually a really good way for him to repay you. He had deprived you of potential sex, but now is offering it to you on a silver platter. 
Still, you hesitate, remembering his reputation. 
“Javi, I don’t know… I don’t want to be another notch on your belt.”
He shakes his head, brows furrowed, his voice rough with sincerity. “You’re not. You never will be, you’re so much more than that, querida.” He reassures you, laying another soft kiss against your skin, and a shiver rattles your spine. “Wanna make you feel good…wanna make up for what I did..."
You take a shaky breath, warmth fanning out over your body. 
Fuck, this could either be a really good idea, or a really bad idea that could fuck up your already fucked up work relationship. 
But shit, if you aren’t wet right now…and he really does have some apologizing to do…
“Okay…show me.”
He sighs into your skin, his smile in relief edging on a satisfied smirk. “Thank you, chiquita.” 
And then he’s pushing your pencil skirt up your thighs with his big hands, eyes raptly watching the way your skin is revealed to him, like carefully unwrapping a gift. Soon enough your skirt is pooled around your waist, your throbbing cunt trapped behind the lace of your black panties. Javi sucks in an appreciative breath, eyes scanning every inch of you.
He pulls at the elastic hem of your waistband, then releases, letting it slap against your skin, and looks up at you with barely concealed disdain, though you can tell it’s not directed towards you. “These for Michael?”
“Maybe,” you mutter, trying to ignore the way his possessive question sends tingling heat through your core. 
He tsks, squeezing your thigh. Why are his hands so goddamn big? “Now I'm glad I kept you late. He doesn’t deserve to see you like this.”
“Oh like you do?” 
“Chiquita, I know I don’t. Still, who's in between your thighs right now? I bet Michael doesn’t even like to eat pussy.”
“Javi!” You scold, embarrassment traveling up your body. He just smirks.
“That’s certainly not the tone you’re supposed to be using with my name. Let’s fix that.”
He maneuvers his hands to grip your lower back, and he scoots you to the edge of the couch. He inches his fingers beneath your panties and slowly peels them off of you, pupils dilating when he notices the slickness of your cunt.
“Fuck, baby,” he mumbles, “you’re soaked.”
“Yeah, well, it’s been awhile.” You grumble, clenching around nothing at his words. 
“You sure it’s not just because of me?”
“Positive, Peña.”
He leans in, warm breaths puffing over your aching core. “Mm, I love it when you’re mean, baby.” 
And then he’s licking a hot stripe through your folds, and your hands that hold you upright jolt to his dark hair, threading the locks through your fingers. You sink into the couch on a high pitched whimper. “Javi—“
“Yeah, there we go, that’s it,” he hums against you, smiling into your pussy, and the vibrations travel through your spine, sending a wave of pleasure crashing into you. 
His cockiness should make you mad, but all it does is make you crave him more. 
He presses in, licking again, this time into you, and the tip of his curved nose bumps against your aching clit, releasing a wrecked moan from your lips.
“Shit,” you huff, eyes screwed shut as he continues to lap at you. “Remind me next time to ride your face—“
He stops his ministrations to look up at you, pupils blown wide, his glistening mouth curling wickedly. “Next time?”
“We all know men are prone to making mistakes,” you tease. “It’s just a matter of when. And when you do, I'll need another apology."
He goes to respond, but you tug on his soft hair, urging him back into your warmth. Whatever response he has is muffled into your slick, and he’s lapping you up like a man in the desert, moaning graciously. 
You feel him start to pull back, and you open your eyes, glaring down at him. “What are you—“ Your protests fade into a moan when you feel two long, thick fingers slowly slide into you. Your head falls against the back of the couch. 
“I knew you were a brat at work but I didn’t think you’d be the same in bed.” He jokes quietly into your thigh, thrusting his fingers in and out of you. They reach so much farther than yours do, and it feels so fucking good. God, you really needed this. 
“Different from your usual whore, hm?” You quip in between moans. 
“Yeah, I like it though,” he admits. “Could get fuckin’ addicted to your attitude and this pussy.”
You should be embarrassed by the new wave of slick running down his fingers at that, but you’re not. If he claims he could get addicted, you know you already are. You’re craving your next hit and Javi needs to be the one to give it to you. 
He seems to know what you want without you having to say, leaning in to wrap his lips around your clit again. 
You slouch into the couch, hips chasing his warm mouth, scooting you toward the edge. His other hand splays across your lower back, holding you upright, and you buck into him. You grip his hair, urging him closer to your heat.
You can feel your orgasm building, ebbing and flowing, like the waves of an ocean. Each lick and suck and prod from Javi paired with the skilled way his fingers thrust in and up and out of you feels like a tug from a rip current, threatening to pull you under. 
God damn, he’s good. 
“Fuck—hng—shit, Javi!”
“Mmhmm, taste so good, chiquita.” He moans against you. 
“Mmngh, fuck, need you—your mouth on me all—all the time. So good.”
He sucks on your clit as if in agreement, and your hips jerk, the muscles in your thighs and abdomen spasming, just on the edge of your orgasm. 
“‘m gonna come—Jav—“
He gently scrapes his teeth over your clit and—oh shit. You’re fucking gone.
Your orgasm punches the air out of you, exploding white hot, tingles zipping through your nerve endings. Warmth spreads across you like a roaring wildfire. You hardly register the moans leaking out of you in an endless stream, your body so overwhelmed with pleasure.
Javi’s moaning too, his other hand palming himself through his jeans as he laps up everything you give him. 
Your legs shake as you ride it out, and he gently strokes them as he licks you through your high.  
“Yeah, that’s it baby,” he mumbles against your heat. “So fuckin’ good for me. Look so pretty when you come.”
He doesn’t stop, continuing to lick you through the aftershocks.
You tug on his hair, pulling him off of you when you’ve had enough. “Okay…that’s enough, Javi.”
Javier laughs as extracts himself from your legs, sitting down on the edge of the couch. You scoot back to sit properly again, though you're practically boneless against the cushions.
Comfortable silence settles over the both of you as you catch your breath. He smiles at you, his dimple showing, and you smile back at him, your heart jumping in your chest. He looks like he thoroughly enjoyed himself, all ruffled and flushed. His dark hair stands up in multiple directions from your tugging, and his mustache glistens with your arousal. 
He looks so cute. Damn it! 
Angry feelings for Javier were normal. But these…lovey dovey-esque feelings simmering beneath the surface are not. 
You just can’t stay mad at him.
“…’Kay maybe I forgive you now.”
He raises a brow. “Just a ‘maybe’?”
You nod, eyes dropping down to where his cock is pressing hard against the zipper of his jeans, just begging to be freed. “Think I remember you mentioning dessert.”
He follows your line of sight and outright laughs, smiling so wide his eyes actually disappear. Fuck, why is he so cute? “I actually meant that—I have tres leches in the fridge but—shit, really?”
You shrug nonchalantly. “I mean, you might as well actually fuck me at this point.”
“Jesus Christ—okay.”
He pulls you toward his bedroom, but you both get distracted along the way. 
He finds your lips at the entrance to the hallway, pressing you into the wall and kissing you roughly, hands unbunching your skirt to find the zipper, uttering under his breath about how unprofessional the garment is. Once the metal piece is in his fingers, he tugs it down, pulling away to watch your skirt fall to the floor.
He loses his shirt next, at the door to his bedroom, with you scolding him about how you’ll call HR on the amount of skin he dares to show at work. You only unbutton it enough for him to be able to pull it over his head, and then your hands are on him, squeezing the muscles of his arms and scratching lightly over his tan pectorals. You run your fingers up the long valley of his spine as he kisses you, delighting in the way he shudders against you at your touch.
He tugs yours off next, choosing now to bite your neck with a teasing “Guess I do bite”, and running his warm hands along your waist and breasts appreciatively. 
You finally make it into his room and he’s pushing you onto the bed, climbing over you, still clad in his dark, too-tight jeans. Those need to come off. 
“Fuck,” he swears, watching as you unbutton his jeans, tugging the zipper down. Arousal floods through you as you palm him through his briefs, hot and warm and big in your hands. 
“Been thinkin’ about this for a while,” he says, voice rough. He tugs his jeans and briefs off then reclaims his spot over you, leaning down to mouth at your neck. 
“How long,” you whimper, head tilting to allow him access. You shiver at the feeling of his light five 'o clock shadow scraping your neck as he moves up to your ear. He bites gently down on your earlobe.
“Too fucking long.”
Your hand wraps around his thick, warm length, and he jerks, thrusting into your loose fist. He groans, a sound so wrecked it’s like he’s in pain, and you take that as the sign that you need to get things moving.
You direct the head of his cock to your entrance, your gaze catching his own. Heavy eyes framed by thick lashes watch your face scrunch in pleasure as he slowly sheaths himself in you. God you feel so full as he bottoms out, more than you have with anyone else.
“Been wanting this too,” you admit. 
He smirks, “Fuckin’ knew it.”
You roll your eyes, but then he thrusts into you and they actually roll into the back of your head as he pulses inside you.
“Fuck, Javi.” 
“That’s it, chiquita.” He grips your thigh, pushing it up to gain a new angle. And then he picks up his pace, fucking into you with abandon. It’s like you can feel it in your throat, his cock hitting deep inside you. You jerk against the bed, the headboard slamming into the wall rhythmically. How many times have you heard this through the wall being his neighbor just on the other side? And now it’s you in the place of the multiple women he’s had over. And you think, maybe, that he’s enjoying it more with you than he was with them. 
He’s grunting above you, moans and whimpers escaping his lips as he fucks you with all the skill and expertise he’s gained over the many years of fucking his informants. He’s louder than he was when you heard him with the others. 
And you…you’re louder than the many times you got off by yourself just on the other side of the wall. Moans and praises drop out of your lips unfiltered—you just can’t stop.
“That’s it, Javi–yes. So good. Fucking me so well.”
And he’s fucking…loving it. 
You can feel his dick jumping inside you with each compliment, and it sends a new wave of arousal crashing within you each time. 
He’s getting close, but so are you, everything is tightening, a catapult ready to sling you off the deep end.
"Javi—I'm—“
"Yeah, that's it, baby." His hand gravitates down to circle your clit. "Come for me, being so good—you deserve it after today. Come on—“
You deserve it.
That's what fucking gets you.
Heat and fire and light and everything heavenly bursts within you as you come on Javier's cock, muscles spasming as they rejoice in that fact that you're finally getting laid. You're practically screaming, back arching off the bed as you ride the wave.
And Javi's fucking you through it, trying to hold off. But you don’t want him to.
"Come in me, Javi."
“You sure?”
“Please.”
How is he supposed to deny you?
He comes right on command, releasing inside you, and the feeling is euphoric. He's warm and hot as he coats the inside of you, and...shit...
...how are you supposed to live without this?
He collapses next to you, and you both lay there for a moment, trying to catch your breath.
You turn on your side to look at him, but he's already watching you. His hand idly traces the inside of your arm.
You think you could get used to this.
"So," he says, dragging out the syllables, "forgive me now?”
You run a hand down his chest in thought.
“Hmm… I think I might need a little more convincing.”
He just grins. “You’re a fuckin’ menace.”
And then he’s reaching his hand up to cup your jaw and pull you in for a kiss much more sweeter and tender than before, as if this kiss is the real apology, and everything else before was just him buttering you up to prepare you.
If that’s the case, you accept it anyway, because you deserve it. And so does he. And you know he’ll just keep making mistakes—he’s only human, after all.
But at least he has a method to earning your forgiveness.
Oh, and carry out.
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running-with-kn1ves · 3 months
Note
Congrats on 5k!!! Can we get the possessive facetime bf and "you should have known better than to cheat on me" please :D
A/N: Thank you! And tbh I made this a smutty smut smut as well b/c i feel like this is how possessive bf would handle the situation. Aka poorly.
CW: dubcon NSFW, gagging & bondage, penetration (GN Reader), reader flirts w/ someone else, reader & possessive bf originally both intoxicated
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It was too late for this. Or maybe, too early. You lost track of time long ago, glowy green numbers on your alarm clock reading 1:45 AM when you first stumbled back home with the pissed drunkard beside you, dragging you inside by your arm. You were practically sober now, your headache screaming as you felt the blissful simplicity of being tipsy leave your throat. You wish you drank more, did something more outrageous than give some stranger your number. Maybe you should’ve kissed him, should’ve stuck your hand down his pants instead of batting your eyelashes. Maybe then, you wouldn’t have to face your boyfriend’s wrath-- he’d have been too heartbroken to even think of reprimanding you. 
But it didn’t matter now, not when he decided to deprive you of your senses while pumping round after round inside of you. It was a form of white torture, he hystericaly answered when your arms were jerked behind you, tied with what you thought might’ve been a makeshift restraint or a necktie, but was instead harsh braided rope meant for cattle or ransom victims. It scratched your wrists as he pulled your head back by a fistful of hair, promising that “you’ll be begging for his forgiveness by the end of this.”
With the blindfold he seemed much too prepared to have wrapped around your eyes, Malachi ripped off your skimpy underwear meant for the club, stuffing it in your mouth and narrowly avoiding your biting teeth. 
When you both went to celebrate his cousin’s birthday party at a nightclub, you had partly decided to ignore him for treating you so possessively the past month, logic being thrown out the window with the sudden accompaniment of lemon drop shots and a handsome stranger showing you more interest than your jealous, pissed off boyfriend had in ages. You felt wanted, desired. It was nice, even when you felt daggers in your back, and a tugging hand on your shoulder every five minutes. The last straw was when you wrote your scribbled, illegible phone number on the strangers’ arm. 
Saying Malachi was enraged was an understatement. You were jerked away, stumbling and laughing as you blew a kiss to your midnight affair. Did you want more? You didn’t know. All you knew, is you wanted a fun night out without having to cater to your obsessive boyfriend’s every need. You wanted to feel sexy, lusted after. 
But maybe you should’ve pulled that stunt at a time when Malachi wasn’t around. Then, you wouldn’t be sobbing behind the gag, hearing the wet squelches of cock being bullied inside of you. Your insides felt bruised, nipples tugged and bitten as Malachi slamed in, in, in from below. 
Normally, you’d have the power when sitting on top of him, grinding and allowing him to lay limp. But with your thighs spread apart on his flank, hands against your ass and every sense blurred, he thrusted into you as you barely held yourself up. 
“This.. is.. what.. you get--!” He huffed, snarling as he slapped the growing welt on your ass cheek. You heard his gasped gag, hips stuttering with his broken orgasm splaying inside of you. 
Which orgasm was this? You couldn’t remember, the vibrating toy milking out your sweet spot still going as a mixture of clear-white came to coat Malachi’s dick. He hadn’t eased you in, hadn’t given into the foreplay he’d usually tease you with, even when he normally hate-fucked you. 
“You know better..hng, been taught, time, and time again… hah,” You tried to squeeze your legs shut to keep him out, but the hands keeping you lifted moved to violently pull your knees apart. You fell onto his chest with a choke, the sweat dripping from your cheeks mixing with the caked layer on his chest. “You’re just making it too easy for me to punish you, huh?”
You muffled through the gag, prating incomprehensibly as the painful overstim of your lower half was worsened by this new, weak position. 
Malachi lazily rutted up into you while coming off his high, pressing your hips down each time to enter deeper. He always went to the hilt of his cock, so deep inside that it made your walls ache and splinter. 
“I’d almost say you’re a masochist fr’me,” He panted, lifting you by the jaw to look into his eyes. “ Wanna be pounded by me for flirting with other guys, cheatin like a common streetwalker, mm’?”
You shook your head, unable to see him but knowing those green eyes were boring into you. 
“Seems like you still don’t fucking get it then. Well, we’ll be here until you do.” 
The gag was pushed deeper down your throat with his thumb, hips rising as he let go of spreading your cheeks to stabilize you. Skin smacked against skin as he pounded up, letting your poor hips fall each time he burrowed out. 
“I can’t!” You muffled, the tight pain of another rising orgasm coming beginning to blind you. You couldn’t take this one, your body wouldn’t be able to handle it. 
Attempting to slide off, you tried to maneuver your legs away, arms still bound as you struggled to inch off of him. If he was as tired as you, maybe you’d get a chance away. 
“Oh no you don’t,” He growled, digging blunt nails into the fat of your thighs with one hand, while the other tugged at your scalp. “Think you get to rest? Get a chance to relax after cheating on me?”
The encircling vibrator was turned up tenfold with the sudden drop of your hair, fingers moving to tug at your ear. “No way, not leaving until I THINK you’ve suffered enough.” 
Malachi got close, licking a long stripe inside its canal as he jutted into your weeping entrance faster. The squeaks of the mattress made you cringe, hearing the wetness of his cum layering between your ass and thighs, falling to the sweaty sheets. 
His heaves for air grew louder, pushing your shoulders back to force you upright again. You still slouched, even with Malachi’s arm tugging your restrained hands down backwards. 
“Gonna take my cock like the.. Hungry whore you’ve been..take it till you’re sorry. And even then, Hah…” He laughed, a pissed and out of breath laugh that made him work harder to bruise your furiously drenched hole. “--still won’t stop cumming inside of you.”
You could only crack a groan each time his hips snapped up, in rhythm with his movement as you felt the vibrator bring you to the brink of another painful, consuming orgasm. Tears and drool dripped from your face alike as you prayed for him to nearly have his fix, lest you pass out from the ecstasy and suffering of another round. Atleast it wasn’t another painful edge session, your hazy mind tried to comprehend. Though at this point, you wondered if that’d have been better. 
“Waz.. Mnph, Drunk..” You tried to choke from the bundled up gag, hoping maybe he’d offer you some sympathy out of your previous lack of inhibition. 
“Sorry, baby. Doesn’t matter, still actin like you wanna fuck other guys n’ front of me,” He circled his hips upward, watching as your already open mouth created a sweet ‘O.’ You couldn’t help the noises you released anymore, not when he used what you liked and abused it--  but your moans seemed to satisfy Malachi.  “But you ready to say you’re sorry? Make it up to me, yeah?”
You nodded your head erratically,, wanting this to end no matter what you had to do. You were exhausted, the lessening vibrator making you sigh in relief despite the aching bruising still inflamed by the plunging cock hilted inside of you.
“Awe, you’re so cute. It’s not enough, though. Say sorry all you want, I wanna hear you.” The evil trick of the calming vibrator had snuffed your awareness, making you jolt when it was snapped back to a level 10. “But I’m not letting you off the hook when you still got so much left to pay for.”
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rafeandonlyrafe · 2 months
Text
pizza night
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words: 2.2k
warnings: mentions/implications of sex but no actual smut, best friend!rafe, jealousy, angst but happy ending, friends to lovers, rafe with another girl, reader sleeps with kelce
“PIZZA NIGHT!” you shout, rafe letting out a whoop as you carry in the two boxes, plain cheese for you, and a mess of toppings for rafe.
“was worried you weren't gonna show up.” rafe glances at the clock. you're only about five minutes late, only running behind because the pizza place was busy and your order wasn't ready on time.
“as if i would miss our weekly pizza night.” you roll your eyes. you've had to shift times around occasionally to make sure you get the pizza night in, like for rafes football schedule, or you having to help your parents out at a fundraiser. for the past three years, it's been every thursday night, even both getting pizza from your respective locations while you facetime when you're not both in the outer banks.
“come here.” rafe opens his arms up to you. you step into his familiar hold, strong arms wrapping around you, tugging you against his chest. you inhale his scent, so uniquely rafe.
he's been your best friend for as long as you can remember, your parents being friends when both became pregnant around the same time. you did everything together. pizza nights started as plum puree, as your mom loves to joke.
“what do you wanna watch tonight?” rafe asks, knowing whatever you put on will soon become background noise to your chatting, rafe happy to listen to any gossip you have to say.
“umm…” you tap your finger against your chin as rafe plates your pizza for you, loading his plate with three slices for himself. you know he's already got your preferred drink sitting on the coffee table. “mulan.”
“sure.” rafe nods. he used to argue when he was younger. you'd want barbie swan lake or a romcom while he prefered superheroes and action. he learned throughout your friendship to just not fight it.
you immediately start to tell rafe the latest gossip, filling him in on everything he's missed since you saw him last, even though it was only two days ago.
“oh and you'll never guess!” you squeal. “callie, my friend from florida?” you see if the name jogs rafes memory, which he quickly nods. how could he forget. the one other friend that competes with him, despite you only seeing her for weeks at a time when you went to visit your grandparents in florida. “she's coming to the outer banks! she's gonna stay with us for the summer while her parents travel.”
“oh, nice.” rafe nods. he's happy for you, he really is, but he hopes she's not going to get in the way of his time with you, especially pizza night.
--
“girl, why didn’t you tell me rafe is hot as fuck?” callie giggles, looking out the window where rafe and a couple of his friends are chatting on the patio.
“ew.” you scrunch your nose up. you mean the criticism about callie finding him attractive, not about rafes looks, but callie doesn’t take it that way as she rolls her eyes.
“seriously, he’s so fine.” she slices into another lemon, handing one half to you as you squeeze it to make fresh lemonade.
you just frown. you don’t want callie to find rafe attractive and you’re not sure why the jealous feeling builds in your gut, so you quickly change the subject.
“wanna come to a party friday night? at kelces.” you question.
“oh my god, yes.” callie nods, helping you carry out cups while you bring out the pitcher of lemonade, pouring a glass for yourself and whichever one of your friends also wants one before sitting next to rafe.
callie takes the open spot on the other side of him as the conversation instantly strikes back up. you remain quieter than normal, eyes flicking between them as you watch them interact. you’re glad they’re getting along, truly, but you feel like gouging your eyes out when callie laughs and places her hand on his bicep.
“you okay?” rafe asks after everyone else had gone home, callie having taken your car back to your place to shower while you plan on asking rafe to drive you home.
“yeah.” you put on a wide smile. “whats up?”
“you just seem quieter than usual.” rafe watches your face carefully, noting the way your face falls before you perk back up with a shake of your head.
“nope, im fine. just glad you're getting along with callie!”
“speaking of…” rafe pulls his phone out, handing it to you. “can i have her number?”
“oh… yeah.” you nod quickly, grabbing his phone and typing in her number. you have it memorized along with rafes and your mom and dads, the only ones you’ve typed in enough to know by heart. “why do you want it though?”
“i thought i’d get to know her a bit.” rafe shrugs. 
“okay.” you force a smile on your face before standing up. “im gonna walk home. see you thursday for pizza night!”
“y/n, wait-” rafe tries to call you back, but you’ve already disappeared into the house.
--
you struggle to knock on the door with the pizza boxes in your arms. usually its unlocked, or rafe is there to open it for you the second your car pulls in the driveway.
“shit.” rafe opens the door, his face pale.
“what?” you shove past him, needing to set the cardboard boxes down.
you walk into the kitchen, going to place the boxes down on the counter when you realize there is already a box sitting there, opened up with a couple slices missing. you carefully slide the boxes out of your arms onto the marble before looking at rafe.
“i-i forgot-” rafe says as you look into the living room, seeing callie sat on the couch, her eyes on the television screen as she takes a bite of pizza. 
“you forgot about our pizza night?” you question, not even trying to hide your tears this time as they form in your eyes.
“i just didn’t realize it was thursday, y/n i-”
“its fine.” you shake your head, heading towards the door. you need to leave before your emotions explode. 
“y/n, please.” rafe grabs your hand right as you reach for the doorknob.
“no.” you turn around to look at rafe, knowing that there are tears streaming down your cheeks, yet you still attempt to force a smile. “no, go. have fun with her.”
you pull out of his grasp and leave, rafe standing on the front porch watching you drive away.
--
“coming to the party?” callie asks, wearing a tiny dress with high heels, showing off her flawless legs.
“nah.” you shake your head. “im feeling kinda tired.” 
“alright.” callie frowns, but doesn’t push you any farther as she walks towards the front door, looking back once before leaving. 
you are genuinely tired. you stayed up all last night waiting to hear callie arrive back at your house from rafes. she didn’t get home until 10 in the morning the next day. you know rafe has slept with girls before, but usually when he’s way too drunk after a party, and never with a girl you considered your friend.
you turn the tv on to a random channel, just needing something to distract yourself and stop you from crying again.
hours tick by as the sun sets, your eyes burning from staring at the television and holding back tears when a sudden knock on the door makes you jump.
you stand up, hoping its rafe, hoping he’s coming to apologize and to put all his attention back on you. you feel bad when you open the door and see its topper, your face no doubt giving away your disappointment.
“y/n, are you okay?” he asks. “you aren’t at the party.” he states the obvious as you stand in your sweatpants and a flimsy tanktop.
“just not feeling it.” you shrug. 
“is it… callie and rafe?” topper asks. he doesn’t need you to confirm as tears well in your eyes.
“i-i like him. i didn’t even realize until i saw them together.” you finally admit it to yourself why you’re so upset. 
“shit.” topper pulls you into a hug as you cry into his shirt, glad for his comfort as he rubs his hand up and down your back, hoping he can help you feel better.
“i shouldn’t be telling you this…” topper sighs. “but kelce has a crush on you. if you want to go to the party and… i don’t know, make rafe jealous back.”
“he won’t get jealous.” you shake your head. “he likes her.”
topper just stares at you with a look of pity. so in your head about your friendship that you can’t even put together the pieces that rafe likes you back.
you look down at your outfit. honestly, you can’t even manage to put on anything other than your crocs, you’re not going to change into a dress and heels just to dance up on a guy you don’t even really like.
“just come wearing that.” topper says, sensing your apprehension. “im serious, you look good. it’ll show how different you are then all the other girls there.”
you look back into your house at your couch, the tv still turned on before looking back to topper. he nods at you with encouragement.
“i need to get drunk immediately.” you tell him as he laughs, pulling you out the door.
--
you let out a groan as you turn over, snuggling into water warm body is wrapped around you as sleep slowly clears from your head.
“good morning, beautiful.” kelce says, making you blink your eyes open as the memories of last night come back, of ignoring rafe and callie dancing together as you move to kelce. topper was beyond right about the outfit as you captured the eye of most of the guys there, especially rafe as he tried to get your attention, but you were up in kelces room before he could steal you away.
it felt good to sleep with kelce, but not completely right.
“morning.” you smile. kelce is handsome, especially with the warm morning light shining in on the two of you, but your heart hurts as you wish it was rafes face you were looking into.
“can i have you again?” kelce asks, reaching down to grab your ass.
“yeah.” you nod with a smile. another distraction won’t hurt.
--
“where were you?” rafe asks as you arrive home, not expecting to see him snuggled up to callie on the couch.
“sleeping with kelce.” you say with a shrug. if rafe isn’t gonna hide his relationship with callie, you certainly aren’t going to hide what you were doing either.
“he doesn’t care about you, y/n.” rafe stands up, callies face shifting to one of worry as she looks between the two of you, realization sinking in. “he just wants to sleep with you.”
“okay, and?” you laugh, a bitter, spiteful laugh. “he’s got a big dick, and maybe i just wanted to sleep with him too.” 
you stomp away towards your room, blaring music from your speaker the second you’re inside. you don’t want to hear any noise rafe and callie might make as you flop down on your bed, quickly falling asleep despite the blaring music.
--
the music being turned down wakes you up as someone sits on your bed. you groan and turn onto your back, expecting to see rafe.
“callie?” you question, glancing at the bag slung over his shoulder and the suitcase sitting in your open doorway. 
you sit up quickly. “are you going to stay with rafe?”
“no.” she says with a gentle laugh and shake of her head. “im going back to florida.”
“what?” you question. 
“i didn’t mean to come between you and him. i thought you didn’t like him. i… i don’t want this to ruin our friendship, so i’m leaving. he was fun to be with, but it was never serious for either of us. he’s serious about you.”
the words sink in as you look to her with hope in your eyes. “you talked to him about it?”
“i did.” she smiles with a gentle nod, glancing towards the clock on your nightstand. “the taxi is waiting outside to take me to the airport.”
you shoot forward to wrap your arms around callie, pulling her into a tight hug. “thank you.” 
“of course.” she holds you back just as tight. “come visit me in florida, okay?” 
you nod enthusiastically before she gets up to leave. 
--
“finally.” topper sighs with relief as he opens the door to tanneyhill. “i’ve been trying to get him to go over and talk to you for the past four hours.” topper pulls you inside before you can even react. “seriously, you guys just need to date already. he slept with callie, you slept with kelce, and now you’re even. go make out.” topper shoves you into the living room before fleeing.
it takes a second for rafe to look up, his eyes red with tears.
“i had no clue.” rafe shakes his head. “i had no clue you liked me. i never would have done anything with callie if i knew. i thought i’d never get to have you, so i thought settling for your friend would be the next best thing.”
“i don’t like you.” you say before quickly clarifying. “i love you, rafe.”
rafe is standing and making his way towards you so quickly that you don’t even process his movements until his lips meet yours in a fierce kiss.
you hesitate for a moment before kissing back, feeling his arms wrap around your body, holding you tight to him, not allowing you to escape or leave ever again.
taglist: @drewstarkeyslut @forstarkey @f4ll-for-you @dilvcv @drudyslut @jjmaybankswifes-blog @rafescokenostril @jjsmarijuana @seeingstarks @angelofcigs @cece45450 @babygorewhore @vanessa-rafesgirl @michelleisheres-blog @outerbankspov @drewstarkeyswifehoe @cutielando @sourkittie @rafeyslove @rafeinterlude @bellbottombaby @deeaardiary @rubixgsworld @wearemadeofstardust0 @leighbronk @starkeysheart @pradabambie @tobesolovelysstuff @alexiskirkland @rafestar @brioffthegrid @juniebugg @magicalyoura @cokepewpsii @mysticallystilinski @luvdella @aerangi @vogueprincess @auryyz @raysmayhem-72 @thestarlithideout @marvelfanfics1recs @rafesgiirl @ditzyzombiesblog @chiaraanatra @tobiaslut @drewsephrry @1aarii1 @winterrrnight @bejeweledreverie
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cameronspecial · 3 months
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Really, Rafe?
Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Reader
Warnings: Couple Arguments and Angst
Pronouns: She/Her
Word Count: 1.2K
Summary: What is supposed to be a romantic getaway starts to feel like something else when Y/N realizes the type of activities the resort has.
A/N: Inspired by this post (Totally not because Tom Holland liked the post).
Masterlist
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One rule in their relationship is that Y/N and Rafe take turns planning dates. Everything from small picnic dates to large vacation dates. This time, it is his turn to plan a vacation. When it comes to holiday trips, it doesn’t have to be far or grand. It could be a small thing, as long as it is a getaway from their normal life for at least two days. The last one they went on was when they both went to a small beach house in Myrtle Beach. Y/N was lucky enough to have found a private rental away from most of the city’s commotion. It was just the ocean, cocktails and the two of them for a week. It was absolute Heaven. As she watches the scenery pass by, Y/N can’t help her excitement as to where they are going. “Can’t you tell me where we are going?” she pleads. Her eyes are as big as dinner plates. He gently squeezes her thigh and throws her a smile, “That’s a secret for me to know and for you to find out.” She giggles with a shake of her head. “That is such a cliche saying.” He shrugs, “So? It still doesn’t mean I am going to tell you.” She gives him a playful pout and continues to look out of the window. 
Ten minutes later, the dense forest turns to equally placed decorative trees and the paved road turns to decorative stones. He parks the car and steps out to open the door for her. She takes in the castle-like resort. The golden trimming and fascia remind the girl of Versailles. She imagines all sorts of things they can do together. Sit by the pool with a drink in hand. Relax thanks to the hands of a masseuse. Dine in fairytale-like restaurants. It takes her breath away, but only for a second because she finally spots the real reason why they are here. To the right of the building are expansive green plains with people of various ages swinging back a club to send the ball flying through the air. Y/N notices Rafe isn’t by her side and turns to find him unloading his golf clubs from the trunk. He packed the trunk, so she didn’t notice it. Disappointment falls over her as it all clicks into place. 
“Really, Rafe?” she disgruntled. Her arms cross over each other and her right hip juts out. He looks at her with a tight-lipped smile, “What? This place has a great high tea evening, which I know you’ve been dying to try. And they have an indoor and outdoor pool that you could take advantage of. Plus, a great spa package for you to try.” This man is really digging his own grave. She lets out a bitter laugh. “You do realize through your whole little spiel, you always said you. Never we, like you expect me to do all those things by myself while you go off and spend all your time with your golf clubs,” she argues. Rafe’s eyes widen, “No, Sugar, you got it all wrong. I didn’t mean it like that. Of course, I planned on doing all those things with you. I promise I just brought my clubs in case you got sick of me and I need to give you some space.” She didn’t believe him. Not when a previous experience told her otherwise. It may have been four years ago when they started dating, yet a girl never forgets. Rafe had planned a date at a football bar. It would’ve been fine if his sole reasoning wasn’t to be surrounded by TVs to watch the game. Halfway through the date, other football fans joined their table to watch the event with him. She felt so ignored and unimportant during that hour. She left the date without so much as a goodbye.
She wouldn’t have seen him again if it wasn’t for how apologetic he was. He expressed remorse through his words and then flowers. She eventually forgave him, agreeing to another date. However, she never forgot the way that she felt in that bar. The humiliation of walking away from a man who paid her no attention. Up until today, she never regretted the decision to give him a second chance. Now, she feels the same way. She worries he didn’t listen to her concern about them not being able to spend a lot of quality time with each other because of how busy they have been with work. It’s the reason why they decided to go on this two-week getaway. To reconnect with each other and they couldn’t do that if he planned to spend all his time on the course. “Sure, that’s totally why you did it. If you didn’t want to spend time with me, Rafe, you could’ve told me. I would’ve given you the space and you wouldn’t have had to drag me with you here,” she criticizes, storming into the hotel to calm down.
———
For the past five minutes, she has been cooling herself down in the resort lobby. Rafe has been at the front desk, probably checking into their room. She doesn’t know if she should stay or just call a cab to take her to the nearest train station. She watches as he points in her direction and the receptionist gives him a nod. The woman removes herself from behind the counter, walking over to Y/N with a smile. “Excuse me, Ms. Y/L/N? Could you please follow me to the front desk?” the receptionist, named Kate according to her name tag, asks. Y/N hesitates to nod, yet still obeys the request. Once at the front desk, Y/N keeps her distance from Rafe. Kate types into her computer and turns it toward the female guest, “Mr. Cameron requested I show you all the bookings he made for stay here.” Rafe’s girlfriend stares at him with narrow eyes and he leans in to whisper in her ear. “I didn’t tell her what happened. I just asked her to show you what I booked.” She gives him a small nod, turning her attention toward the screen.  
The list is long, but it is easy to recognize a pattern. Everything is reserved for a couple and not a single one is a tee-time reservation. She couldn’t argue that he had Kate remove his tee times because literally every single minute between nine in the morning and seven in the evening had something planned. She made a horrible mistake and accused Rafe of not caring about her. She turns to him with teary eyes. “I’m so sorry I didn’t believe you, Rafe,” she apologizes, wrapping her arms around him. He lets her snuggle into his neck and wraps his arms around her waist. His lips rest on her forehead, “It’s okay, Sugar, I know I was really an ass on that date so long ago. I mean I can’t say I’m not hurt that you still think I could still be that idiot, but I am grateful every day that you chose to forgive me. Which means that I have it in my heart to forgive you too. I love you.” She presses her lips against his. “Thank you for forgiving me. I love you too.”
Taglist: @winterrrnight @loves0phelia @thelomlisrafecameron @wickedlovely121 @thepatriarchykeychain @drewsmusee @starkowswife @maybankslover @forstarkey @loving-and-dreaming
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blakeblueboi · 4 months
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Cat Animagi Au
Purely self-indulgent- I simply wanted to draw some kitties and honestly, I feel like this could be hilarious so here's some head canons I thought of while drawing this ---->
Harry
Harry was not at all expecting to be a cat Animagus. He fully expected to be a stag like his father or some sort of dog like Sirius was. The last thing he expected was to be a cat, and a very large one at that.
Harry became an animagus in eighth year.
Professor McGonagall was thrilled that she was no longer the only cat Animagus at Hogwarts. She personally saw to it that Harry was registered as an animagus at the Ministry.
Hermione often finds Harry curled up in the common room on the windowsill.
Ron is convinced that Harry is some sort of "titan" cat due to his humungous size but Hermione speculates that he's some sort of maine coon or Norwegian forest cat.
He is very much a void in the darkness and has scared the piss out of Ron, Seamus, and Dean many times.
However, his animagus status is kept quiet from anyone other than his housemates. The other houses now recognize his animagus form and give him weird or outlandish nicknames. They're mostly to do with either the faint glasses markings around his eyes or his larger than normal size.
Harry takes advantage of his smaller size to sneak around the castle during the night.
He has taken pleasure by nipping Draco's heels in the hallway between classes.
Draco
Draco, on the other hand, was hoping his animagus form was anything but a ferret. Every since that incident in the courtyard with Professor Moody he has loathed the creatures.
His mother predicted he could have been an exotic bird and for a while he was fond of the idea until he realized he would have to molt feathers every year.
The first time he transformed Pansy gushed over him and promised to purchase him one of those pretty necklaces that she's seen muggles give their cats. Draco had to explain to her how that was, infact, not a necklace, but a collar. Blaise would not shut up about giving Draco a collar for the next month.
Draco takes pride in his appearance and that does not stop when he's in his animagus form. He's always very sleek and shiny without a hair out of place. His tail is by far his favorite feature with how it looks like a fancy feather when he walks.
He's yet to register with the Ministry as an animagus.
He can often be found infront of the fire in the Slytherin Common room curled up on a silk pillow.
Draco hates the black smudge on his right foreleg that imitated the dark mark on his arm. Even as a simple cat he can't escape the choices he made in the past. He's tried ripping the fur out there but found that the skin underneath was also just as black. He had a mind to dye it but that idea quickly went out of the window for a multitude of reasons. One being he did not have opposable thumbs.
Draco and Harry
When Draco stumbled upon Harry in his animagus form it was completely by accident. At first Draco was afraid that the Chosen one would somehow recognize him but was surprised to find a gentle hand passing over his head and spine. It was the weirdest experience he has ever had.
Draco took to following Harry around the castle on weekends convinced that Harry was none the wiser about who he was. It was nice. Of course when Ron and Hermione weren't around. WHen they were Ron teased Harry about gaining a follower, as if he did have those already, and Hermione studied him as if he was one of the massive tomes she carried around. He was half convinced that she had figured him out long ago, but just hadn't said anything for some unknown reason.
Draco met Harry finally in the other's animagus form while stalking the halls late at night. A quick glance and Draco was petrified by two glowing green eyes in the darkness and it took everything in him not to flee down the hallway.
It took awhile for the two to get along in their animagus forms and on several occasions had to be broken up by Professor McGonagall who during several of those occasions was in her animagus form as well.
After a while, Harry and Draco slowly form a weird routine of walking the halls at night. They bond quite well during their time together.
Harry at some point joins the gag about getting Draco a fancy collar. Draco is surprised that it doesn't seem like that bad of an idea when coming from Harry.
Draco teases Harry about how even as a cat his furr is still just as messy as his hair is in human form.
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allfearstofallto · 2 months
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Let's do something different and imagine things the other way!
Yandere! Reader x Scaramouche
TW: Yandere obsessive themes, very tragic back story, mention of character death
A/N: just a short idea from the drafts! :)
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You're not obsessed, you tell yourself after your months of rigorous training, after joining the Fatui, even after working so hard, that you earned yourself a vision that lay on your hip. You're normal. You're not constantly thinking of the man, who's visage is like a blurry memory of your past, but if you saw him, you'd know for sure that it was him.
How many years ago was it? You weren't sure you could count such a thing, but you remember being too young to understand death. Too young to get why your parents, or even the rest of your humble village wasn't waking up. Why red was dripping from their lips and their fingers felt cold. You weren't old enough to understand that no one was left, no one but you.
It didn't take long for hunger to set in. Too small and weak to even start a fire, you ate what little scraps you could find. You couldn't leave. Not even when the village ran out of food you could eat, the rest rotting away. Or when the well ran dry. Or when the smell of decay set in and there was nothing left for you to mourn. You couldn't leave because you had no where to go. You wouldn't even know what direction to head in and the fear of setting off into the wilderness with no destination was scarier than just waiting out in your village.
He arrived on a particularly cloudy day, one where the wind smelled of rain. A part of you thought you made him up, but when your big eyes met his and he looked upon you, you knew he was real. He looked disgusted at your display at first, then a bit sorrowful. He stayed beside you as the rest of the armored people he came with went through the houses, breaking doors and windows like they were looking for something.
An apple was dropped into your lap. The first fresh fruit you'd seen in days and you scarfed it down like an animal, even licking the juice from your fingers.
"You were left behind too, huh?" He questioned, making you tilt your head in confusion. It was only now when the pains of hunger weren't ripping through your body did you truly get a good look at his face. His skin pale and indigo hair covered by a large hat. When a raindrop fell and hit your nose, he lifted that hat from his head and placed it on yours, shading you from the impending downpour, "I can't tell if you're weak or strong, having lived this long."
He took you with him, letting you sit next to him as the two of you rode on the back of his carriage. He didn't have much to say and you didn't have much to talk about, but you still found yourself staring at him. Drinking in every inch of his features, every part of his face and body. He was dressed lavishly, with clothes so vibrant, yet so different than what you knew. He was perfection in the human form, even young you could see that.
You were left at a random city, at an orphanage. So far away from home, but similar at the same time. His hat was lifted from your head and your hair was ruffled by his long fingers. And then he was gone. You stayed at the door and watched the way the tassles of his hat swayed in the wind. You remembered everything about him. Including his name. Lord Scaramouche, they called him.
With the way you talked about the man who saved you all those years as you aged, it was no surprise that you joined the Fatui. It was no surprise that you got a vision. It wasn't even a surprise when you cheerfully waved goodbye to your siblings at the orphanage, telling them that you were off to Inazuma, where you knew his clothes were from.
He didn't look any different. That's all you could think about when you were bowed before him, head lowered as a sign of commitment. He looked over you and the rest of the new recruits in disgust, a face that made most fearful, but only made you heart beat faster, a blush forming on your face. You'd found him. And he was as breath taking as he was before. Only this time, you didn't intend to ever let him leave your sight.
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realisticfanfictions · 5 months
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Being Sanji's Girlfriend & Baratie's Head Waitress.
Sanji x Waitress!Reader
Working at Baratie wasn't without its challenges, and the fights that sprung up because of them weren't rare either. You and your boyfriend never sweated the small stuff, after all working in a high stress environment made you, well, stressed. But maybe some things can't be resolved that easily.
Tags: Sanji x Reader, Waitress!Reader, constant bickering, mostly fluff with some angst, (heavy) swearing.
A/N: I love the Waitress!Reader so much for OPLA, so I've decided to do another one! I had to split this up into multiple parts, cause this ended up being a bit long. (Link to part two.)
Word Count is 4,829. Hope you enjoy!
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"Where the fuck are my entrees?!" Your voice echoed in the enclosed space, cutting through the melodic and rhythmic sounds of frying, chopping and other things that went on in a kitchen. You brushed past another waitress who wisely got out of your way, your heels clicking against the tiles as you marched up to the pass and slammed your copy of the meal ticket down. "Chef!" You called out, pushing back a strand of your hair as you scanned the chefs who were cooking at a ferocious pace. You locked eyes with an unfortunate new chef, but despite him immediately looking at his feet and trying to walk by, you reached through the window and pulled him by the collar. "Who the hell is on entrees?" He stumbled over his words and you groaned in frustration at his pathetic attempt at the English language.
"That's me." You pushed him back and looked past the cowering chef at the man who had just spoken up, your boyfriend and the love of your life, Sanji. His normally pressed and tidy chef attire was in disarray with his shirt untucked and his sleeves stained with various sauces. He sounded hoarse and was covered in a thin layer of sweat as he cooked some type of meat, flipping it over in the pan to cook it evenly. Intense concentration was etched into his face and the way he scrunched his nose was adorable, but right now you couldn't think of anything else but punching it.
You opened your mouth to speak, but a nearby busboy ran in front of you and you snarled at him. "Watch it, asshole!" You refocused your attention back on the blonde in front of you. "I have thirty-eight tables out there with at least four head a table, and only two waitresses working the floor-!"
He shook his head and his pan aggressively hit the stove top each time he moved it. "You know, it sounds so hard to look pretty and run around in heels all night, but I actually have a real job-"
"Oh really?"
"Yeah, really. And I'd appreciate it if I didn't have you bitching in my ear all night!" He threw some butter in the pan and began to bast the meat.
"Then maybe, if you were actually good at your 'real job'," You said with quotation marks. "Then you'd tell me why the shit it takes thirty-five goddamn minutes for a premade french onion soup!"
He whipped around with a laddle in his hand and he marched over to the pass. You both bent down to see each other through the window. "Hey, if I had any fucking help around here I would have gotten that to you twenty minutes ago, but I'm stuck here-"
"And here we go!" You exclaimed as you threw up your hands dramatically and walked through the swinging doors. You avoided Pattie walking out with a tray of fresh bread and popped on an apron attached to a nearby hook.
"-with my thumb up my arse because apparently no one knows how to plate a damn steak in this kitchen!" He moved around you as you took his place, grabbing the offending meat and placing it atop of the mashed potatoes.
Annoyed, you grabbed the garnish. "Well, where the hell's the plating station?"
Sanji came back and unceremoniously dropped a large stock pot next to you. He bent down to look you in the eye and threw his hands up in the air. "He quit."
Your eyes widened and followed him as he walked to the other side of you and started plating beside you. "He what?"
"He fucking quit! Just like every other bitch who couldn't handle Tuesdays at the Baratie." His brows furrowed and he let out a small shout of frustration. "Whoever the fuck did the halibut, refry it!" He yelled as he set it off to the side. "Just 'cause we're busy doesn't mean you can push out a shit and pass it off as fine dining!"
You plated another order and put it under the heat lamp at the pass, then rang the bell, but no one came. "And we're short-staffed on waitresses too!" You exclaimed and spotted the busboy from before, "Oi! You! Get off your ass and start serving!" You threw your ticket-book and pen at him, which he barely caught from where he was sitting.
"B-But I'm washing dishes-!"
You dramatically gestured around. "We aren't even sending anything out, so unless you've been storing them up your rectum, what fucking dishes are you washing?!" You grabbed the french onion soup in the stock pot that Sanji had given you and quickly poured it into three bowls laced with garnish on top. "Take these to 12, and the steak to 24. Tell 12 that they'll get a free dessert in about twenty minutes. Well? Get a move on! You aren't getting paid to sit there and look pretty, 'cause you sure as hell ain't fucking pretty!" He scrambled to pick them up and he quickly ran out of the kitchen.
"That turned me on more than I'd like to admit." Sanji appeared beside you with another plate and rang the service bell. "If we weren't busy I'd kiss you, darling." He exclaimed as he grabbed a handful of garnish and placed it atop of the plate.
"Oi, fuckface." When he looked over, you quickly pressed a kiss to his lips and grabbed the metal tray of halibut. "Now, let's get these pretentious pricks fed!"
You both worked side by side, barking orders at each other and bickering over every little thing you could - even Zeff yelled at you both to shut up. But it worked. Within minutes, you both had worked through the back orders and finally got to a point where you weren't struggling to complete orders from guests who'd been waiting for hours. When the last table left, you and Sanji just about collapsed. Leaning against the cool wall tile with you by his side, he sighed. "That was definitely one of our busiest days," He said with pure relief that it was finally over.
You couldn't remain standing and slid down the wall, your high heels clicking as you sat down. "Yeah, who knew so many people would wanna celebrate Father's Day?" You replied sarcastically, but a playful smile told your boyfriend that you weren't being mean. He softly chuckled and followed suit, sliding down the wall until he reached the floor with a groan.
He pulled out his cigarettes. "I've earned one of these." He says as he puts it between his lips and waits for you to light it. You roll your eyes and oblige, taking out your lighter and lighting the end of it for him. He took a slow drag, closed his eyes, savoured it, and then exhaled out the smoke.
"You almost make lung cancer look sexy." You remarked with a grin, and he returned it with his own charming, beautiful smile.
His eyes slowly flicked up and down. "And you always make yelling and shouting look so sexy." He licked his lips and leaned in, giving you a kiss that lingered. Your eyes fluttered shut and you enjoyed the small respite from the craziness you had both just experienced. Even when the kiss eventually ended, neither one of you moved away. "Are you working tonight?" He asked under his breath.
You sighed and pecked his lips. "In two hours."
"Till?"
"Four."
"Shit."
"I know." You pressed your lips against his once more and moved some hair out of his face. "But, I'm not working tomorrow so we can sleep in."
He sighed. "I start at nine tomorrow."
"Till?"
"Six."
"Shit."
"I know." You both quietly laughed and pressed your noses together, then rubbed them together while stealing kisses and giggling like you used to when you were kids.
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You'd been at the Baratie ever since you were fifteen, and you'd been dating Sanji since you were sixteen. It wasn't really something you both had officially decided on, nor did either one of you do this big, elaborate confession that made both of you ugly-cry. It happened slowly over time. Many customers and fellow staff would constantly tease you both with things like, "Where's your girlfriend, Sanji?" and, "Aw! You both are so cute together!" At first you both denied it, but eventually you just... stopped correcting people. You were each other's first kiss, first love... first love, and despite how it looks from the outside, you couldn't be happier.
"Oi, Sanji." You called out as you leaned closer to the mirror to focus on your eyeshadow. "Be careful, there's been a lot of pirate activity lately. They might stop by, so Zeff has officially-unofficially instated a no-tolerance policy for- Sanji!" You laughed when your boyfriend wrapped his arms around you and you struggled to do your makeup while Sanji hung off of you and pressed kisses along your cheek. "You toad! You're going to ruin my smokey eye."
He playfully moaned. "But you're so sexy," He whined and pulled back enough to give you puppy eyes. "And you shouldn't work tonight if there's pirates anyway."
"I still have to work." You replied, giving up on doing your makeup and stealing a quick kiss from him. "I'm the head of front-of-house, I can't just ring up Zeff and say, 'hey, your son wants to sleep with me so I can't come in today!'"
"No, you can't." At the sound of his voice, you looked up to see that your boss had entered you and Sanji's shared room. He would have seen the neatly pressed and ironed button-downs wrapped around hangers, and two mismatching pairs of high heels strewn about the floor. His eyes met yours. "We have a full house of rich, but important pricks tonight, and I need all hands on deck. If someone calls in sick, drag them out of bed if you have to."
Your boyfriend pouted playfully. "But she never gets any time off, can't we just-"
"(Y/N) is our head of house, she's too important to lose tonight." Zeff straightened up and crossed his arms over. "Little Eggplant, you can't distract (Y/N) from doing her job. Unlike you, she has to work to stay here." The old man looked over at you and you nodded, you knew that you were a staff member first and foremost - being the girlfriend of his adopted son was second to that.
Sanji's smile tightened, and he stood up. "I know." His blue eyes flashed with something that you meant he wanted to say something but didn't. His smile returned when he looked at you. "I'll see you in the morning."
As he brushed past Zeff and walked out of the room, you furrowed your eyebrows at your boss and father figure. "Now that's one way to get him pissed off at you." The words came out a little more aggressive than you meant to, but you didn't bother correcting yourself.
He sighed and turned to leave. "Leave it alone, (Y/N)."
"And one way to get me pissed off at you too." You dropped your eyeshadow onto the table and followed after him. His wide frame took up quite a bit of space in the hallway, but you squeezed past him to block his path.
Zeff groaned when he saw you and squeezed the bridge of his nose, then released it to gesture while he spoke. "(Y/N), I apologise if you felt offended. You're a part of our family, and--"
"I don't care about that." You scoffed in disbelief and gawked at his lack of social awareness. "You must be really thick in the skull if you think I'm upset about that."
His face scrunched up. "Then what are you upset about? Hm? What are you upset about now?" He gestured behind you. "I have dinner service to prep for," He started to list off on his fingers. "I have a team of flaky waitresses-your team of flaky waitresses to deal with, and I need to make sure that we have enough lamb being delivered for our special tonight. So what could it possibly be that is so important you're holding me up for?"
You counted to five in your head before opening your mouth to speak. "I love him. And I don't give a rat's ass that you sign my paycheck, or give me a roof over my head. You don't make Sanji, my boyfriend and your son, feel shitty just because you think it'll toughen him up. And you certainly don't use me to do that." You keep your gaze locked onto his. "You ever do that again? I walk." You stepped backward and straightened up. "I'll get the team ready for service."
You never regretted what you said. Was your tone harsher than it should've been? Yes, but you needed to get your point across to him. There wasn't any time to think about it though, because it was Friday night and thirty minutes before opening - you didn't have the time to regret what you said.
"Ladies!" You called out, then smiled. "And Sapi." Said fishman smiled at your acknowledgement as your team of staff gathered around to form a semi-circle in front of you. You held up your checklist. "We have fifteen V.I.P tables tonight. I expect everyone to be on their best behaviour. That means no frowning, no blowing your nose on the customer's napkins, and no- oh my God, Macy. If you don't shut the fuck up." The red-lipped, pigtail-wearing waitress jolted back from where she was gossiping with another waitress. You raise your brows at her as if to ask if she was done and rolled your eyes. "And no unprofessionalism." You finished with a glare.
Spai cleared his throat. "How many free tables do we have tonight?"
You looked back at the clipboard and flipped over the page, counting quietly to yourself. "There's two at seven and one at eight. The two at seven are one and eight, and the one at eight is seven. One can be for eight, but don't offer seven to under six because seven and six are over eight. Got it?"
The room was quiet for a moment, and Sapi slowly blinked. "May I have a copy of that, please?"
"I'll bring one to your station," You looked around. "Any questions?" Silence. "Good. Now, put on your fakest smile and happy ga-ga voice - we've got a line of ships waiting to be fed!"
"Let's do this, team!" Macy's voice screeched out and she was met with silence.
You exhaled gruffly and squeezed the bridge of your nose. "Macy, I swear to- let's do this, team!" This time, it was met with a round of cheer as they dispersed to familiarise themselves with their tables for the night.
A pleased sigh escaped you, content with your small but mighty team that you had managed to drag out of bed to work the floor. A glance to the suspiciously blank specials menu made you curse under your breath. You were going to have to talk to Zeff to get tonight's specials. With a defeated sigh, you clipped your pen to your shirt and sucked in a deep breath, before making your way to the kitchen where it sounded like food preparations were already underway.
"...and get those lamb in the cold room!" Zeff's voice was apparent the second you walked through those doors. The kitchen was a mess of people marching backwards and forwards like ants while Zeff, their queen, barked orders as they passed by. You thought about just turning around and pretending that the fight had never happened in the first place, but the old man spotted you and waved you over with a finger. "What can I get you, Sprout?" You breathed out a sigh of relief, hearing his nickname for you was like a wave of fresh air.
You straightened up and grabbed your pen. "Hey geezer, what's the specials tonight?"
He waited for you to finish writing "Specials" across the top of your sheet of paper. "We have Lobster Thermidor paired with the 1500s Chardonnay, or a White Burgundy if they snub the Chardonnay. Then we have classic Red-Wine Braised Lamb Shanks that you can pair with any Grenache you find." He slid a piece of paper to you. "These are the prices. I only want you handling checks tonight."
Out of sheer habit, you slipped the piece of paper into your bra. "Why's that?"
"Because someone messed up the till last night, and I want someone I can trust running it."
That made your heart clench. You sighed. "Look, Zeff," You started and lowered your clipboard. "I'm sorry for stepping out of line earlier. I was angry. Sanji was trying to get some 'us' time because we haven't even been awake at the same time for the last couple months. And when we have it's been with me running the floor and him- you know what I mean. Look, I'd never walk out on you, Zeff."
His face, as always, was blank, but you can tell he was processing what you had just said. He was quiet, but then he nodded. "Get those specials on the board. We open in ten." You bit the inside of your cheek and nodded, then turned around. "Don't fuss, little brussel sprout."
A smile wormed its way onto your face and you looked over your shoulder at him. "Fussin' ain't worth fussing over. Isn't that what you say?" You barely dodged an incoming head of lettuce.
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"Good evening, welcome to the Baratie. My name is (Y/N), can I get you started with some drinks tonight?" You were a natural at this. It didn't matter if you were having an "anti-person day", as Sanji called it, there was no denying that you had talent.
The man with soft, pink hair hummed and looked over the menu. His brass knuckles glistening under the dim lighting of the restaurant. "What are your specials for the night?"
A polite smile went a long way. "The chef has prepared for you a selection of the most wonderful meals made only from the finest and freshest ingredients in the Ease Blue. We have Lobster Thermidor paired with a Chardonnay that I find adds a bit of a fruity, uplifting compliment to the meal. And we have our high-in-demand Lamb Shanks braised in a nice red wine, and paired with only the best Grenache you can find for miles." You didn't bother telling him that it was the same Grenache you had found in the back of the freezer from four months ago.
"That sounds lovely, and what is the cost?"
You quietly hissed and looked over at the beautiful blonde who was sitting across from him, then leaned in to whisper. "I find it's best not to discuss such things on a date. You wouldn't want her to think she isn't worth it, right?"
Well, that certainly worked. He slowly looked between you and his date, who smiled sweetly and encircled the rim of her glass with her perfectly manicured french tips. He cleared his throat and leaned back in his chair. "You're right. We'll take one of each, and I'll have to rely on you for what pairs best."
You took the menu he offered with a smile and a nod. "Very well sir, I hope you two enjoy yourselves. Our bar is open all night." And with a wink, you danced away to the kitchen to place 'his' order. It was easy with men like that. All you had to do was dangle their woman's respect in front of them and they'd eat shit just to keep her smiling. But despite the monotony of it at times, you met a lot of interesting people from different backgrounds. You gave a small wave at the man at table two, a regular who had just come back from his royal ballet tour appearance and was with his rich, aristocrat girlfriend, who he said wasn't feeling well.
An set of voices, loud and uncouth, came from above and you stopped to cast a glance upwards. They were... pirates? Well, Zeff did say that they'd been more active around this area as of late, so it wasn't that much of a surprise - especially since there was already a couple tables of them. Sapi looked a little overwhelmed, so you sighed and grabbed a nearby waitress. "Could you take an order to the kitchen for me? It's table three with the two specials, two too. The man at two in the tutu wants it blue, but not at two with Ms. Sue in the red shoes. She has a touch of the flu, so any red meat or roux will make her spew. Got it?"
She blinked. "I think so?"
You patted her on the shoulder and briskly floated up the stairs with as much grace as a head waitress could muster. Their conversation slowly grew louder and you were able to hear some of their conversation. "My apologies, but I don't accept money for-"
"Is there something I can help you with?" At your words, the group looked over and Sapi, who had been trying to refuse some berri the orange-haired woman was offering him, visibly relaxed.
"Nothing is the matter, this group was just leaving." He answered and looked at them to see if they got the hint. The woman sighed in defeat and pocketed her cash. You looked over at the two young men leant against the railing staring into the restaurant below, they were very excited and looked as if they hadn't eaten a proper meal for a few days.
With your mind set, you glanced over at the time, then straightened up and smiled. "You know what? It's seven, so I believe we might have a booth available if that's suitable for your needs?"
She smiled and breathed out a small sigh of relief. "Thank you, here-"
You held up a hand before she could reach into her pocket. "Save that for your meal." With a quick nod to Sapi, you stepped aside and gestured toward the staircase. "Follow me." The man with green hair and three swords rubbed you the wrong way almost the second you laid eyes on him, and you could tell he felt the same way. It was almost a sense of mutual familiarity. But you broke off eye contact to lead the rest of this strange, rambunctious crew further into the Baratie. "The Baratie was established by our current owner Zeff, and we recently celebrated our tenth anniversary."
The boy in the straw hat gawked at everything he saw and heard you say, and smiled brightly. "This place looks like it serves good food!"
That brought a smile to your face. "It does," You said as you guided them to their booth amidst other pirates and similar rough-looking guests. "And I don't just say that because my boyfriend's the sous chef."
"Are you sure about that?" The guy in a pirate costume asked, his eyes sparkling with mischief and laughing along with his young friend.
You smiled along and shook your head. "I'll let you guys get settled in and will return in about five minutes with a menu. Please enjoy the music." With a few friendly waves and a "see you in a bit!" from the straw hat boy, you turned and walked toward the back of the room to collect a few menus.
Suddenly, the door slammed open and your boyfriend appeared looking more than a bit annoyed. You didn't even think he was on the line tonight, but your attention was drawn to two men who had began to cause a bit of a ruckus. You weren't close enough to hear what was being said, but you tucked the menus under your armpit and darted toward the pair that were now being consoled by Sanji. "...we don't waste food, and there's no fighting at the Baratie." You slowed your walk toward them and continued at a crawl. The man you had served not that long ago was dealing with a rowdy pirate. You heard something that sounded like a threat and Sanji spoke up again, his voice cutting through the argument before it had the chance to escalate. "And I'd like to pour you each a glass of Ithürzburger Stein. On the house."
The pirate nodded. "Okay, I'll have that drink." His brows furrowed and his voice grew irrate. "After he apologies for his bad manners!"
"Over my dead body." That was certainly the wrong answer. With a growl, they both lunged for each other and you sped toward them, watching as Sanji, in a blur, flipped over the table and kicked each of them.
The pink haired man grunted and got back up on his feet, drawing his gun but then froze when he felt something cold dig into his back. "I wouldn't do that if I were you." You warned, shoving your own gun into his back and whispered in his ear. "Drop it." Like the coward he was, he did and you effortlessly slammed the butt of your weapon into his temple - knocking him out cold.
You motioned for a nearby waitress to deal with the unconscious men, then snapped your attention to Sanji who picked up his plate of scones and continued his walk. "No cause for alarm, folks. Please, enjoy your meals." He called out and you quickly pocketed your gun back into your thigh-holster, smoothing out your dress and turning to the waitress who had arrived at your side.
After gesturing for her to take them out the back door, you readjusted yourself and quickly walked up to Sanji's side who's forced smile made you tilt your head in confusion. He shook his head, he didn't want to talk about it just yet. You both made the few steps over to the table you had just seated and, despite his mood, he set down the plate with his usual grace. "Hi, welcome to our shitty restaurant where the only thing worse than the ambience is the food. My name is Sanji. What can I get for you?" While he spoke, you placed down some menus and tried to ignore the straw hat boy who was currently stuffing his face full of our complimentary scones.
The woman grabbed a menu from you with a smile, but the others had their eyes locked onto Sanji. "One of everything, please!" The straw hat boy called out without taking a look at the menu you had walked twenty feet in high heels to collect.
"Any drinks?" Your boyfriend offered as he shoved his hands into his pocket, unconsciously looking for his packet of smokes that you knew he couldn't light. You briefly wondered if you should offer him a smoke break to calm him down. "One of our signature cocktails to help you choke down your meal?"
"Giving us the hard sell, huh?" She asked as she slowly lowered her menu and you found it increasingly harder not to smack the blond.
And, as usual, his entire demeanour changed. "Apologies, madam. I didn't see you there. Would you care for an aperitif to start? We have several rare Micqueot vintages in stock. Or perhaps you'd like a glass of Umeshu? You know, something sweet-" He winked. "-for someone sweet."
"Something wrong with your eye?" She asked, quirking an eyebrow.
You cleared your throat. "No, but there is something wrong with his head if he thinks he can flirt with another girl in front of his girlfriend."
That garnered a few giggles, snickers and mock gasps from the table. Sanji chuckled and turned to you. "I hope I'm not in the doghouse tonight?" He pulled you in and gave you a quick kiss on your cheek, but you waved him off.
"We'll see." You shot him a not-so-serious warning look and focused back on the table. "Sorry about that, did I hear you were after some drinks?"
The green-haired male looked you up and down, faint recognition in his eyes as he cleared his throat. "Can I get a beer and something for my friends?"
The pirate-costumed man spoke up. "Two beers. I usually have three, but-"
"And a milk!"
You scribbled down their orders, and Sanji's hand crept around your waist. "Three beers and a milk. And, uh, for madam?"
"Water."
"Still, sparking, mineral? With ice or without? Cubed or crushed?"
You stopped writing and slowly looked up to your boyfriend. "...Taken, Sanji." You reminded him and he stared back at you innocently.
Even the woman leaned back in confusion. "Regular water, in a regular glass. Thanks."
"Right away." He said with a wistful expression, and with the roll of your eyes, you dragged him away before he made a further fool of himself.
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AN: Sorry about ending it there, but it was getting WAY too long and I figured it'd be easier to break it up into multiple pieces rather than having one solid chunk of 12k words. Or however long this fic ends up being. I'm actually kinda digging it, so I may continue to write it for a while! Also, I have no idea how old Sanji is meant to be in this universe? According to the internet (and the massive reddit fight I accidentally spawned) it's a tossup between 19 and 26 (OP Sanji's vs the actor's actual age.)
I also hope you appreciate the word-puns. I don't know why but I really enjoy writing them and love to include them in my writing-
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fookingmuffins · 5 months
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it's time to go
James potter x reader
Summary: Angst. You love James, but it's time to go.
Warning: cheating, screaming and James being a dick.
A/n: lmao I really ran after posting like 4 fics, but I'm doing a little better and even though I'm stressed with uni I've been dying to write something, so I hope y'all enjoy. (This actually took me so long to finish and i dont lobe the ending but i needs to move on, oops)
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You sighed as you prepared to open the door to the house you shared with James. Once upon a time, you would've rushed in without a second thought. But lately the war had taken a toll on the two of you. Once happy moments were now filled with fear and dread, making you feel like you were drowning. And no matter how hard you tried to hold on to the love of your life, you could feel him shutting you out. James had always been an open book anyone who ever met him knew that, but lately he had built this wall meant to keep you away, only you. At first, you tried to understand and be patient considering everything you two were going through, but after countless fights of you begging for him to talk to you, you were tired. You squeezed your eyes shut once before pushing the door open and plastering a fake smile in your face, maybe today would be different.
"Jamie, I'm home, I brought your favorite from the bakery by my work!" you shouted into the house buy were greeted with only silence. After checking the house you realized you were alone which immediately sent you into a spiral of worry since James was supposed to be here an hour ago but deciding that maybe he had gotten caught up with something you tried to ignore your panic and start getting ready for your friend's Alice’s engagement party.
You heard the door open and close while you were finishing up with your hair, causing you to get up and genuinely smile when you saw James make his way to the bedroom that the two of you shared.
"I was wondering where you were, I got you some pastries they are in the counter." you tried, but he just gave you a tight-lipped smile with a wave before passing by you to your shared bedroom. You went after him and saw he was getting ready to jump in the shower. Figuring it was going to be another quiet afternoon, you sat at your vanity staring at yourself in the mirror holding back the tears threatening to spill and ruin your makeup and just prayed that at the wedding maybe you two could have fun like you used to. You didn't even realize how long you sat there until you heard James get out of the bathroom and start getting ready, and you decided to just get dressed too and sit by the window with a book while you waited for James to be ready.
"Are you okay?" You were broken out of your train of thought by James’s question.
"Yeah, why wouldn't I be. " You answered, giving him a similar smile to the one he gave you when he arrived.
"I don't know, you just keep staring into space, and it's kinda creepy." he tried to joke, but what once would've made you smile and roll your eyes instead caused a knot to form at your throat again, and you felt tears prickling your eyes once again.
"Well what am I supposed to do is not like I can talk to you anymore James you always shut me out, and I don’t know what to do anymore to get you to bring down the walls that keep shutting me out! I don't even know what I did for you to shut me out!" You couldn't help but let out everything for the millionth time, hoping that maybe today would be the last time you two were having this conversation and that he would finally open up and let you two go back to normal.
However, you soon realized that it was only wishful thinking because James immediately lowered his head and mumbled "For fuck's sake y/n not this again"
"Yes, this again, James! Please talk to me! Stop shutting me out, please!" you were a sobbing mess by this point, begging him to let you in, not caring if you ruined your makeup.
But James just shook his head and walked out, "I'll wait for you in the car while you get cleaned up, we can't do this right now, or we’ll be late." just like that, he left you alone frozen with mascara running down your cheeks. You felt numb and just quickly tried to clean up but when you were done and staring at your reflection stare back at you with puffy red eyes you just felt pathetic.
On the way neither one of you talked James kept his eyes on the road while you looked out the window too lost in your thoughts to realize your usual music that would usually be playing while the two of you drove was not playing, James realized, and he felt like he was suffocating in the empty car ride.
The wedding was beautiful and despite your problems you couldn't help but imagine that one day it would maybe be you and James standing in an altar professing your love in front of all your friends and family. You turned to look at him as Alice and Ben were sharing their vows, only to catch him staring at Lily, and she was staring right back at him. You felt something break in you as confusion overtook you. Why is he looking at her?
Was she the reason that you were slowly getting kicked to the curb? Back in Hogwarts everyone knew that James was obsessed with Lily but when she finally gave him a chance things just didn't work out. Then you caught James's attention, and the rest is history.
You tried to focus on the happy couple in the altar as the ceremony came to an end, but you felt someone was stabbing you and twisting the knife.
By some miracle during the reception James asked you to dance which shocked you, but his eyes seemed so sincere and like they were almost begging that you couldn't help but to foolishly be filled with hope once again. As you took his hand, he genuinely smiled at you again the way he used to with that same boyish grin that made you fall for him 5 years ago.
The two of you danced in the center of the dance floor spinning and laughing around, you had not been this happy in so long. After a particularly long fit of giggles, James pulled you closer and looked into your eyes with a spark that the two of you hadn't shared in months. When you two were about to lock lips, someone cleared their throat besides you two and the two of you pulled slightly away.
"James could I have a word with you please?" Lily asked looking at James who immediately pulled away from you and went with her after telling you he'd be right back. Just like that you were brought back to reality the cloud 9 that you had been in for a little bit long gone, and again the sinking feeling invaded you, feeling like you were drowning. You needed a drink.
You went to the bar and after getting your drink you decided it wasn't enough, and you needed air. You walked out of the salon where everybody was and made your way to the garden, and that's when you heard it.
"James! You said you two were over, but it sure as hell doesn't look like it! I can't beli-"
"I know, I know, but I can explain Lily please! I-I-I came here with her because she was embarrassed to come alone, so I promised this would be our last outing together." You felt your heart stop, air getting caught in your throat.
"What? That doesn't-" Lily started as you felt the glass in your hands slip and shatter on the ground.
Both of them froze and looked at where you were standing, you could feel a knot forming in your throat but glared at the pair in front of you with tears forming in your eyes.
"Y/n I can explain!"
" I think both of us want an explanation, James, but she deserves it more. Y/n/n I'm so sorry I had no idea you two were still together." Lily went to walk away and James was about to chase after her when she heard you scoff and as you turned around.
"Say goodbye to Alice and Ben for me, would you? I have to go." you rushed out before basically sprinting to the nearest exit, hearing James chase after you, which wasn't hard considering he was taller than you and an athlete. He grabbed your arm when you two had made it to the parking lot and turned you around.
"So that's why I'm getting the cold shoulder." you blurted out before whatever he was able to utter whatever shit excuse he was going to tell you. You almost wanted to laugh, which made you feel like you were insane, but you thought about all the hours you had spent over the past couple of months looking in the mirror trying to see what was wrong with you, overanalyzing every tiny detail in your face. Laying in bed staring at the ceiling, replaying everything you had done that day that might have set James off.
"No no baby, I swear it's not what it looks like, Lily is just bitter we didn't work out, and she's trying to sabotage us! I've just been so stressed because of it, and I am so sorry I let it out on you."
"Bullshit James! You were literally just talking shit about me before i showed up and ruined your little act." You were seething by this point, and James flinched after your outburst. You had never been one to scream, and he knew that, but right now you honestly felt like nothing was the same and you weren't the same. "A-and you wanted to chase after her and you know what? maybe you should. Maybe you have a better shot at getting her back because we are over James Potter! I-I am so tired... I-" You were crying from all the different emotions you were feeling at that moment. Finally getting some enlightenment about why your relationship was dying gave you some relief of the crushing pain you were feeling being hunted by the "what if's" and "why's" you weren't the problem.
James tried to get close and wrap his arms around you. god he felt like an idiot for hurting you. He honestly doesn't know what he was thinking. He had hoped you never found out and had planned to break up with Lily soon enough, but he just needed to explore a little what it could've been like if he had stayed with her. Plus the thrill of it was something that James had loved for the time being, but he never wanted to hurt you. His heart broke at the sight of you, he couldn't imagine what you were feeling.
"Don't even think about it! Don't ever touch me again don't ever look at me, I hate you so much Potter, I don't want to know anything about you from this day on James! We now mean nothing to me, we are strangers!" You glared at him in a way he had never seen you look at anyone, and felt his heart drop.
He tried to protest, feeling the tears leave his own eyes at the idea of losing you completely forever. But you just turned around and walked away.
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Contaminated // D. Grayson x f!reader
Requested? Yes!
Warnings: SMUT 18+ ONLY. Minors get BACK. Go yearn for the mines awaY FROM HERE. Emotions! Sex pollen but it’s enthusiastic consent. Unprotected sex.
Summary: Three months ago, Dick Grayson told you he didn’t love you anymore and walked out the door. Tonight, you found yourself the unwitting victim of a Poison Ivy attack that forces Dick Grayson to end up on your doorstep once again. Will he help or will he leave once again?
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Your hands shook as you unlocked the door of your apartment. Your skin prickled as the fabric of your hoodie scraped against the sensitive skin of your arms. A desperate whimper escaped your lips at the way your very cells seemed to burn with the strength of a thousand suns.
Somehow you got your mind straight long enough to lock the door behind you before you stumbled towards your bedroom. You kicked off your shoes as you went and your hoodie soon followed. Fuck, it wasn’t enough. Everything was hot but at the same time, you felt sweaty and chilled like you had a fever.
Something was wrong.
Grabbing your phone, you fought against the blurring of your vision in order to locate the contact you needed. You knew she would pick up the phone in seconds because she was glued to her tech everyday.
“What’s up, babes?” Barbara answered after the first ring. “If you’re calling to reschedule brunch, I have terrible news for you. I won’t allow you to skip out aga-”
“Babs,” you rasped. “Something’s wrong.”
The cheery tone fell from the redhead’s voice in seconds and you heard her start typing on her keyboard. “Where are you?”
“Home. I was walking home from work when Ivy attacked the park and I think I inhaled some of the spores. I don’t…I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”
Barbara swore under her breath. “The closest person to you is Nightwing.”
Your heart dropped. No. Not him. “Who else?”
“Everyone else is busy. I’m sorry, but I’m sending him.”
Your stomach cramped painfully, nearly knocking you to your knees, and you let out a groan. “Okay, okay. Fuck it. Fine.”
“We’re going to help you. I promise. I have to go handle something right now, but I’ll make sure I check on you.”
“Thanks, Babs.” Your breath escaped you in short pants, like a dog in heat. Fuck, it was hot in here. You wanted nothing more than to strip off your pants and shirt and lay on the cool tile of your bathroom, but you couldn’t. Not when he was coming over.
Richard Grayson, your ex boyfriend. Richard Grayson, the man who came over one night three months ago and broke up with you on your doorstep. Richard Grayson, the man you had loved for years until your heart shattered with a few words.
“I don’t love you anymore,” he had said. And then he dropped a box of your things on the doorstep and walked out of your life.
Fuck Dick Grayson. Fuck Nightwing. Fuck him and his pretty boy smile. He could go to hell.
“Shit.” As if the mere thought of your ex triggered it, you were suddenly acutely aware of the seam of your pants pressing against the sensitive flesh of your cunt. Shit shit shit, you cannot be horny in front of Dick Grayson. You just needed to keep a level and calm head until he gave you the antidote and then you could send him out on his ass.
Another wave of shaking wracked through your body and you let out a hiss of pain, doubling over until your face met the soft fabric of your comforter. Your body joined you on the mattress and you pulled yourself up until your cheek rested on the cool rayon fabric of the pillow. Curling your knees up towards your chest, you let the shakes consume you and prayed that Dick wasn’t so over you that he refused to come.
As though he heard your thoughts, you heard the window to your living room slide open. The slight screech of the old rubber sides sounded faster than normal and you figured he just wanted to get this over with.
The window shut and footsteps pounded towards the door to your bedroom. Your teeth chattered violently as you shook with this hellish hot/cold state your body had been thrust into. The shaking made it hard for you to lift your head, but you were able to make eye contact with the last man you wanted to see.
“Fuck,” Dick said in greeting. “Babs said Ivy got you, but she didn’t say it was this bad.”
You willed your jaw to stop rattling and shrugged. “Ran home so I didn’t pass out on the sidewalk or something.”
He stripped off his glove and pressed the back of his hand against your cheek. Shit. Oh fuck. Just the feel of his skin against yours was euphoric. A small mewl escaped you and your back arched in some desperate attempt to get closer to him. Dick ripped his hand away, a panicked look flitting across his masked face.
“Damnit Ivy,” he snarled.
“Am I dying?” It certainly felt like it. Your skin prickled painfully at the loss of contact and you tried to hold back the burn of tears that grew in your eyes.
“No, you’re not dying.” His hand drifted up to his ear where you knew a comms device rested. “Ivy hit her with sex pollen.”
A startled, albeit bitter, laugh escaped you and you shook your head. Of fucking course. Sex pollen meant you would have to wait for the antidote and get progressively hornier and in more pain. Or you could get off…
On autopilot, your hand drifted down to the waistband of your pants but the small part of your brain still in control screamed at you to stop. Tearing your hand away, you inhaled deeply and pressed your face further into the pillow. Not when he’s here.
“Just go get the antidote and I’ll suffer for a bit,” you snapped.
Dick barked out a sardonic laugh. “Do you really think I’m going to leave you like this?” Oh, the irony. If you weren’t burning up, you would laugh in his face and tell him to get the fuck out. All you could manage was glaring at him from your fetal position.
“I thought leaving was your specialty,” you hissed, venom lacing your tone. Your barb made a direct hit because his trained impassive face crumpled for a brief second. The cool drag of a tear along your cheek made you aware of the rising heat in your face and you brushed the tear away.
“Fuck you Richard Grayson. I know you don’t want to be here so you can go. I’ll just wait until someone can bring me the antidote.”
“You’re in pain,” he said barely above a whisper.
“Yeah, well, as if you care. I’ll just call Wally or Kaldur. Hell, I’ll call up Jason. I’m sure he won’t mind helping.”
“Stop,” he growled. “You won’t call anyone. I’m here. I’ll help you.”
Despite the aching weakness in your bones, you pushed up off the mattress so you could face him fully. Your arms trembled with exertion, but somehow you held yourself up.
“You left me. I don’t know what I did to make you hate me or whatever, but you left me and so you don’t have a right to be concerned. So do what you do best, Dick, and leave.” You were impressed by the way your voice stayed firm despite the tears streaming down your face. You were bracing yourself to see him walk out once more, leaving you in pain, both emotional and physical this time.
He turned away, showing you the kevlar spandex weave of his suit on full display. Just a few more steps and he would be out the window and out of your life again. Your breath caught in your throat, the pain surging through your veins. You whimpered and started to slowly lower yourself back down, but two strong hands settled on your shoulder and waist. Dick curled himself around you as if he could protect you from the fire licking at your insides. You shuddered at the firm pressure of his hands on you and in the moment of clarity, raised your chin to meet his gaze.
He had taken the mask off.
“It hurts,” you whispered.
His head lowered and he inhaled deeply before speaking once more. “I can’t, baby. You’re not thinking straight.”
Clasping your hands against his cheeks, you drew his head up and leveled him with a look. “Please, Dick. Make the pain go away.”
You had missed the taste of him. Dick’s hands drifted down to your hips as he slotted his lips against yours and pushed you back to lay against the bed. A gasp escaped you and he swallowed it with his tongue that pushed into your mouth. Everything was happening so quickly that it made your head spin in the best way possible. You shuddered as he unbuttoned your pants and slipped his long fingers under the band of your underwear.
“Oh,” you moaned as he brushed the rough pad of his finger along your slit. He chuckled and pressed a kiss to the hollow of your throat before nipping at the soft skin of your jaw. Your legs closed instinctively as the toxin mixed with instinctive lust surged through your veins. Dick tutted and tugged at the hem of your shirt. You let him remove it and then he made quick work of your pants and underwear.
And then he stood up, unzipped his suit, and revealed the body you had dreamed about for nights.
Dick wasted no time in scooping you up and settling you between his legs, your back against his chest. One of his hands tugged your knee, pulling your legs apart, as the other drifted down to your soaked pussy.
“That’s my pretty girl,” he purred as you sagged against his chest. Dick nuzzled his nose against your temple as his fingers rubbed in lazy circles over your swollen cunt. Anytime your hips shifted, he made sure to keep you steadily locked in his hold.
“That feel good, baby?” he breathed. You nodded, too blissed out to speak, and he grinned that cocky smile you missed so much. Dick tipped your chin back and pulled you in for a filthy kiss, his tongue searching your mouth and leaving the lingering taste of his peppermint gum on your lips.
Your orgasm rocked through you faster than you expected thanks to the pollen flooding your veins. Legs trembling, you shook and thrashed against Dick as your cunt clenched around empty air. Dick held you tightly against him and continued his ministrations until you were whining about how it was-
“Too much. Ah! Dick, too much.”
“You’re still burning up, baby,” he murmured.
“I need your cock. I need you to fuck me again. I missed the feel of you in me, Dick.”
His tongue trailed along the sweaty line of your neck and your back arched off of his chest as he left along a cool trail. His slick soaked fingers drifted up to rub and pinch your nipples, alternating between both with equal devotion.
“Did you fuck anyone else?” he panted. “Tell me, baby. Did another man make you feel as good as I do?”
“No!” You needed him to fill you. You would combust if his long cock didn’t enter you in the next five seconds. You struggled against his grip in an attempt to flip yourself over and ride him, but Dick was too strong.
“No,” you gasped. “I touched myself and thought of you. No other man could satisfy me.”
As though you were a delicate package, he cradled your head as he slid you down onto the mattress and slotted himself between your spread thighs.
“I’m gonna make you feel so good, princess.”
Any retort left you as your mouth dropped open. Three months without him had made you forget how fully he consumed you. Your folds parted as he split you open with his shaft, whimpers and pants escaping him as he slowly and surely slid into your waiting body. He hefted your legs up and you wrapped them around his waist as he finally bottomed out.
“I missed you,” he murmured.
You, your traitorous mind echoed. Not this. You.
No. This was just his way of helping you.
A throaty groan tore past your lips as he pulled out, the veins of his cock dragging against your walls, and then pushed back in. Your eyes rolled back as he brushed against your g-spot. He was more than just his name, not by much. Dick Grayson laid pipe like he was a union plumber going on forty-five years.
“Fuck me like you mean it, Grayson.”
He yanked his hips back and drilled into your cunt. You clawed at his back as he started to jackhammer into you. The fever was slowly abating as your second orgasm built. You lifted your hands to play with your own tits but he batted them away. Dick ducked his head down and enveloped your right nipple in his mouth, sucking and licking at the soft skin there. The constant stimulation adding to the electricity surging through your veins and you threw your head back. Dick let go of your breast with a soft pop and he stroked your cheek, dragging your attention back to him.
“Look at that, princess. Look at how well you take me,” he said. You nodded dumbly at his words and he forced your head up. Your gaze fixed on the way his cock slid in and out of you and, coupled with the feeling of him inside of you, had your second orgasm crashing over you like a wave.
“That’s it. There’s my good girl. You were made to take me. I missed fucking this pretty pussy. I. missed. you.” He punctuated the last three words with deep thrusts before he pulled out and let his cum streak along your tits. Dick’s chest heaved with exertion but he reached up and pressed the back of his hand to your forehead and then to your cheeks.
“How…how is it?” you asked.
He scooted back a bit and leaned forward so he was bracketing your hips. “You like doggy style, right?”
A pounding headache and a dry mouth was your morning gift. The warmth of the sun touched your cheeks gently and you relaxed when you realized you were no longer sweating buckets and burning up.
But a heavy, warm presence was still in your bed.
You slowly turned over to face Dick who was already awake. He reached up and checked your temperature again before offering you a wry smile. “Fever broke. You passed out around orgasm number six. I got you some water and snacks and you’ll need to take a shower. I can start the laundry once you’re in the shower. I’ll wait to leave until you’re feeling alright. Just to make sure you’re okay.”
Your heart ached at the tenderness of his words. This was the man who practically launched himself off the couch to get you a bandaid after you gave yourself a papercut while reading a book. This was the man who kept your favorite coffee and tea stocked at his place. This was the man who walked out on you and told you that he didn’t love you anymore.
“Dick…” Your soft voice stopped him from climbing out of the bed. He settled in next to you, the thin sheet pooling at his waist and revealing his well-muscled torso.
“I left because they put a hit on your head,” he said. Warm breath washed over your face and you shivered at the contact. His azure eyes searched your face before he continued.
“I couldn’t risk losing you. Permanently. I’ve buried too many people, baby, and I refuse to lose you until you’re old and gray.”
“No one knows I’m connected to Nightwing,” you whispered.
“No, but they know you were connected to Dick Grayson. There are a lot of people that aren’t happy about what I’ve been doing to help Bludhaven. I’ve made enemies and they knew exactly where to target.”
“But Nightwing stopped them, right?”
His full lips lifted at the corners, amused at your unfailing trust in him, and he nodded. “Destroyed their entire operation.”
“So there was no threat.”
His eyes softened and he reached up to touch your cheek. “Being with me puts you at risk. Always.”
“I never felt as safe as I did with you. Last night, you helped me because you would never let anything hurt me. Right? You’ll never let anyone hurt me.”
He moved in close and pressed a delicate kiss to your forehead. Your eyes fluttered shut as his lips drifted down to lay a kiss to each eyelid, cheek, your nose, chin, and finally landing on your lips. This wasn’t the rushed, burning kisses from the night before.
This was soft and gentle and, underneath the veneer of sweetness, it was an apology.
“I’ll go get the shower started so it’s warm,” he murmured once he pulled away. “And I’ll cook breakfast while you’re getting clean.”
“And we’ll talk?”
He smiled. Not the fake media smile he perfected years ago. Not the confident, cocky grin he gave his teammates. It was the smile only you saw. The soft, tender curve of his lips as his vulnerability shone through.
“Yeah.” His fingers interlaced with yours. “We’ll talk.”
Tag List: @someoneimsure​ @perpetual-fangirl900​ @visagebrise​ @cursedandromedablack​ @alexxavicry​ @the-wayward-daughter​ @raging-trash-of-mind​ @bunny-kawa​ @khaylin27​
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luvyeni · 5 months
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❛BAD FOR ME❜ ( y. jeongin )
💬nias note: im still not over this look , this was sitting in my drafts for a minute...
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p. toxicbf!jeongin x toxicfem!reader w. 2.7k+
— 𖦹 warnings. toxic relationships , reader gets into a fight, unprotected sex, oral ( m. receiving ), dirty talk, rough sex
— 𖦹 ( both of you know you're bad for each other but you can't help it ) !
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“Are you going to the party?” You turned to your friend confused — the hell was she talking about? “Who’s party?”
Your friends furrowed their eyebrows in confusing. “Chan's having a coming home party, are you not coming?” You were even more confused. “Who came home?”
“Yah.” Your other friend said. “You know you don’t have to lie, we assumed you both got back together again.” The gears turned in your head again — then it finally hit you. “Jeongin.”
He got out? And he didn’t tell you? Was he serious, after everything you both went through he had the audacity to not tell you. “When did he get out?” You said, they were now confused. “You didn’t know he was out?” The look on your face was telling. “Y/n he’s been out for like 2 weeks.”
You were pissed off — you and jeongin’s relationship was rocky to say the least. You guys met almost 3 years ago, he worked at a tattoo shop you and your friends visited while drunk and stupid — a hour later you had a random heart tattoo on your thigh, but that’s a story for another time.
He was cute , and you were drunk and horny — that’s how you ended up fucking him in the closet of the shop, your relationship went from there.
Turns out that cute face was simply just a façade — turns out that tattoo job was a side hustle, a front if you will. Jeongin often made his money in illegal street racing and selling drugs with his friends. When you found out you weren’t upset — yeah you wished he would have a regular nine to five, but your liking for the boy triumph that.
Maybe that was a sign for you to run — to leave the boy alone, but you didn’t, and then how you found out how popular your boyfriend was in the scene.
You and jeongin both had jealousy issues, which wasn’t good and often left one of you being pulled off of someone at a party, yelling profanities at each other — usually ending up in a breakup. The breakup never last long though, it’s usually about a week before he’s climbing through your window because you refuse to let him in due to your stubbornness or you texting him under the impression that you want him to come get his shit out of your house, but he knows it’s  just your special way of saying come home and fuck me.
Was it toxic? Yes it was, but it was like you both couldn’t get enough of each other, both of you love to piss the other off, and then fuck each other like wild bunnies while getting high in the back seat of his car.
Coming back to recent times, three years later jeongin was still doing illegal shit — you told him he’d get caught up and get himself arrested, but he told you that you were being paranoid, so you let him be, not only a week later him and his friends were being dragged into the police station for street racing.
Right before then you both had gotten into a normal argument due to the fact that a girl who clearly knew you were together couldn’t keep her hands off him — which ended up with you throwing your drink in her face, dragging jeongin away. He yelled at you for being jealous, and you both went back and forth before chan ran over dragging the boy away, not before you slapped him telling him to never contact you.
That was 3 months ago, and normally that would answer your question on why he didn’t let you know he was out— but you knew how you and jeongin worked, and that’s what pissed you off, because you also knew who was doing this on purpose — to get a rise out of you.
“Y/n? you listening.” Your friend finally pulled you out of your rage filled thoughts. “I’m listening.” You said, trying to stop your eyes from twitching. “So are you going?” Your friend asked. “It’s at chans house later this evening.” You nodded, of course you were gonna be there. “Yeah i'll be there.”
You got dressed in your best — one of jeongin’ favorite, a short grey dress with a deep v cut, and accentuated your waist perfectly. You did your makeup, not much though, knowing regardless of what happens tonight it was gonna get messed up.
You waited for your friends to pick you up, climbing into the car, driving over to chan house where the party was. “It’s pretty crowded, I guess everyone missed them.” Your friend said, all three of you climbed out the car. “They’re drug dealers, if the drug dealers are in jail there’s no drugs — half the people here don’t even know who’s coming home party it is, they’re here for drugs and drinks.” You and your friends make your way into the house.
“You wanna get a drink before you go kill jeongin?” You made your way into the kitchen, the counter filled with many bottles of alcohol. You grab a random vodka bottle, pouring it into a cup. “You think you could keep it in the cup tonight?” You heard a familiar voice. “Fuck you seungmin.” You sneered.
He laughed, you rolled your eyes. “Why are you mad at me, what did I do?” He questioned, you scoffed. “Really, you’re gonna play dumb with me right now?” You said. “Chill don’t throw your drink on me, you guys business is none of my business.” He stepped back. “You still could’ve told me he was home.” You walked past him, bumping him on purpose. “Always such a dream to talk to.” He yelled back to you.
You were too fueled on anger as you go searching for him, drink in your hand. “Oh hey y/n.” Chan offered you a warm smile. “Where is he?” He frowned. “I told him to tell you I did, but you know how he is.” He said. “Where is he chan?” He pointed — you followed his finger, blood boiling at the sight. Jeongin stood against the wall, the same girl from the race standing in front of him, feeling up his arm.
He looked good, blonde streak in his curly hair, white tank top— your main weakness and denim shorts. He chewed on his lip ring, while drinking something from his cup, listening to the girl talk. “Is he fucking serious?” You were fuming, how fucking dare he? First he not tell you he’s home, now he’s all close with the girl who told him to stay away from multiple of times. “I’m gonna kill both of them.” You left chan alone screaming at much like seungmin. “Please don’t break anything again, please!”
Jeongin knew you were around here somewhere, word had gotten to him then moment you walked through the door — he was full on ready to find you so you both could go have angry makeup sex like always, you’d probably slap him for not telling you he’d been let out of jail and then you’d enjoy the party before going back to your house.
But he wanted to drag it on just a little longer, just to get back at you for not calling him while he was in jail and breaking up with him right as he was getting arrested — childish he knows, but so are you.
“Jeonginnie.” Hannah the girl whined, pulling on his arm. “pay attention to me.” He sighed,  looking at the girl trace his tattoos, it didn’t feel the same as when you did it, the way your stiletto nails dug into his skin. “Sorry.” He said.
“I finally got you away from that bitch and all to myself.” He rolled his eyes, if only she  knew he had no intention on leaving with her — not when his girl was here. “Yeah?” He played along still. “Yeah, im so glad you didn’t go back to her, and called me to meet you here.” He chuckled taking a sip of his drink. “You never know, she may be here.”
Before hannah could even say something, jeongin felt a tug, and suddenly hannah was on the ground. “What the fuck!” She shrieked, you stood above her, staring the boy down. “This was a new dress bitch.” You turned to the girl — he smirked taking a sip of his drink, just as he seen your hand go up, your drink being thrown into the girls face.
“How many times have I told you to stay away from him.” You climbed on top of her. “how many times do I have to beat it into you.” There was a crowd now, jeongin saw chan rubbing his temples, knowing who was in the center of the crowd — your friends close by just in case.
Jeongin loved when you got like this, it was sick but he didn’t care, he couldn’t help but get hard watching you claim him in front of everybody. “Jeongin.” Changbin called him, he laughed knowing what he wanted — he finished his drink, sitting it down on the table. “Okay that’s enough.” He picked you up, pulling you off the girl. “She’s bleeding, calm down psycho."
You felt your body being lifted up, and jeongin’s voice — adrenaline still flowing through your veins, you turned around slapping him right across his face. “You asshole.” He grabbed your hand. “somebody help her up.” He said before yanking you up the steps, away from everyone into a room.
“What the fuck is your problem.” He spat, you scoffed. “My problem? My problem, first you don’t tell me you were released, I had to find out two weeks later, then I find you cuddled up with that bitch, and im the one with the problem.”
“You told me not to contact you.” He said. “I told you to stop fucking racing also and stop talking to other bitches who clearly want to fuck you, but you don’t listen to that.” You snapped, he usually never let you go on this long, but he was just getting hornier and hornier as you fussed and cursed at him — your hair was as tussled, and your dress was bunched up due to your fight, your panties almost on display, chest was heaving up and down.
“Fucking asshole, you aren’t even listening.” You scoffed. “Fuck you.” You said about to walk past him — he grabbed you, slamming you up against the wall. “Fuck baby you’re so hot.” He said his voice low. “move jeongin.” You pushed him, but he grabbed both your arms. “Im done.”
He chuckled. “Yeah we both know that’s not true.” He said. “If it was you wouldn’t be so  pissed that I didn’t text you about my release.” There he went , chewing on the lip ring again. “nor would you have just beat a girl within a inch of her life for nothing if you were done.” He laughed.
“Just say you missed me.” He said, still holding your hands down. “Fuck you.” You spat, he rolled his eyes, he should’ve known you’d be like this. “Fine you want to be a bitch.” He let your hand go, grabbing your hair. “Guess I gotta fuck this attitude out of you, put you back in your place.”
You pushed at him, he jus tugged at your scalp, signaling you to stop. “Get on your fucking knees.” He pushed you down to knees, his hard cock straining against his shorts. “I swear if you fucking bite me again.” He undid his pants, pushing them to the ground alone with his underwear — his cock almost slapping you in the face.
“Be lucky if I don’t.” You hissed, he grabbed the base of his cock, slapping it on your lips. “open your fucking mouth.” He pushed himself into your mouth, groaning out in pleasure. “Fuck that’s it, suck my fucking cock.” He moaned.
He let you bob your head up and down on your own first — you moved slowly just to piss him off more. “Do it fucking right.” He pushed you all the way down on his cock. “Fuck, im gonna fuck your face.” He held your head steady, snapping his hip. “Shit.”
He moved his hips vastly, his balls slapping against the chin as you gagged and gurgled around his cock, drool spilling down your chin as he used your throat. “Look at you , making a mess on my dick, that’s all I had to do to shut you up is stuff my cock down your pretty throat.”
He groaned, throwing his head back. “fuck im gonna cum, gonna cum down your fucking throat.” He held your head down, your nose pressed against his pelvic bone, cumming down your throat. “Fuck take my cum down your throat.”
He let your hair go, pulling you off his cock. “Missed your mouth baby.” He said pulling you up. “Spent months just thinking about your mouth.” He tapped your thighs signaling you to jump. “Good because you’ll never get it again.” You still were a bit feisty, but he could tell you were horny and were doing this just to fuck with him.
“Please we both know you’d die without my cock.” He pulled your panties to the side. “That’s why your pussy is fucking sopping right now, you’re so fucking wet.” You bit your tongue, not giving him the satisfaction of hearing you moan. “Such a fucking brat baby.”
He pushed himself inside of you, he moaned out. “Sh-shit.” He cursed, he missed this, your cunt squeezing him. He was only in jail this time thankfully for 4 months, but 4 months without your sweet cunt felt like years to him. “Fuck!”
He held you up against the wall, fucking into your cunt. “come on.” He ran his lips against your neck, his lip ring running along your jugular. “Stop fighting it baby, you know you want to scream my name.” He chucked into your ear, before giving you one sharp thrust. “You know you missed, screaming my name, so scream.” He gave you another thrust — you whimpered, he smiled. “Scream.” He thrusted again, and this time you couldn’t hold it. “Jeongin fuck!”
He fucked into you, you gripped his shoulders, nails digging into his skin — he hissed at the pain, but it went straight to his cock. “That’s it, scream my name like the slut you are for me.” He growled. “My slut.”
You really missed this, the way he fucked you, those 4 months were painful without him, and getting yourself off with the fingers wasn’t enough. “Je-jeongin fuck, so fucking good.” He huffed, your cunt was tightening around him. “Yeah I can tell, your cunt is sucking me in.” he groaned.
“You go gonna cum?” He moaned. “gonna make a mess on my cock?” You nodded. “Yes.” You tugged at his hair, he groaned . “Never gonna get arrested again, I miss this cunt too much when im away.” He said. “Can’t be away from you for too long.”
“Jeongin -fuck- im-im gonna cum!” You shrieked. “Cum, cum so I can fill this pussy up  with my cum.” He groaned, you felt the band in your stomach tightening, then snapping. “FUCK!” you screamed, cumming.
“This pussy is mine, nobody is allowed to touch you.” He groaned. “I don’t care how much we fight, you’re my girl, you will always be my girl.” He moaned. “Fuck- go-gonna fill this pussy up.” He gave you a few more thrust, his cum flooding your womb. “Fuck, take my cum.”
You both were a breathless sweat mess. “This was such a welcome home.” You slapped his shoulder  “Fucking leave me like that again and don’t tell me you’re back, and I’ll cut your fucking dick off.”
He smirked, letting you down. “Yeah sure, you’d suffer right with me.” He said as you fix your dress. “And you didn’t have to beat that girl like that.” You rolled your eyes. “now she’ll have a black eye to remind her to stop fucking talking to you.”
“You’re bad for me baby.” He kissed you, you smiled sweetly. “Let’s go home and smoke.” You said taking his hand into yours
“So fucking bad."
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©️LUVYENI
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luxaofhesperides · 5 months
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Wings AU ; requested by @justwannabecat!
“Are you sure it looks good?” Duke asks for the sixth time in an hour.
Tim sighs and says, yet again, “It looks fine. Just give it to him! If he doesn’t love it, I’ll beat him up for you.”
“You wouldn’t do that.”
“I could! But you’re right, I wouldn’t. I would just psychologically torment him until he broke.”
“Don’t do that, please. I’d like to actually have a chance with him, even if he hates this.”
“He won’t,” Tim says. He actually stops typing to give Duke a severe look. “Go and give it to him. If you don’t go now, he’s going to think you bailed.”
Duke glances at the time, then jumps. “Shit! Thanks for your help, man!” He’s out of the door before Tim can say another word. He doesn’t bother with the front door, or even going down the hallway. Instead, he opens the nearest window and flings himself out of it, unfurling his tawny wings to catch the wind beneath them and ride them into the city proper.
He briefly considers stopping for a moment to change into his Signal outfit so he can fly above civilian jurisdiction, then decides that it’s far easier to just bend the light around him so he’s invisible. He wouldn’t want to be late meeting Danny, after all. Especially not for this.
He hadn’t been expecting Danny to be into traditional courting methods. Most people tend to go the more modern way of dating, but Danny had mentioned once or twice that he thought it was romantic. He had blushed, mumbling the words, but Duke heard them and went into researching courting methods to see which ones Danny might like best.
Sure, he could just ask Danny out on a date like he normally would if he liked someone, but if Danny wants to be courted, then Duke is going to court him!
It’s why he’s been planning this out carefully, gathering his primaries after his wings molted a few months ago so he could string them together into a thin wing covering. 
Admittedly, this courting method isn’t super common, but the thought of giving Danny his feathers, making it look like their wings are one and the same, has kept Duke up some nights, wanting it so badly. 
Besides, he thinks Danny will like it. Considering the state of his wings after the Accident…
Duke holds his handmade wing covers closer to his chest, flier lower as he leaves Bristol and enters Diamond District. The streets are busy, full of people. Most tend to stay on the ground, wings tucked close to their bodies, but there are plenty still flying above cars and buses that Duke has to carefully fly around. 
It takes another twenty minutes to get to Robinson Park, where Duke drops down to the ground and takes a moment to make sure all his feathers are straight and neatly displayed. Then he walks into the park, heading towards their usual meeting place.
For once, it’s a nice, sunny day in Gotham. Everyone’s taking advantage of it. The park is full of couples and families, walking around slowly, and kids dart through the air, still unable to go very high with their wings not yet fully grown in. It’s nice to hear the laughter and general chatter of people wandering the park. 
Duke doesn’t spend too long walking the paved paths through the park. He steps off of it near the second water fountain on the path, then heads into the trees, passing two moms on a picnic with their three kids rolling around the grass nearby. 
Tucked away in this corner of the park is a small clearing surrounded by thin trees. The tile is dirty and cracked, no one maintaining it at all with it hidden away. 
He sees Danny’s wings first, with long feathers that trail onto the ground, a black that shines dark blue in the light. He follows the lines of his wings back to his body, where Danny sits on a bench, leaning his weight back against his hands as he lifts his head up into the sunlight, basking in the warmth.
He really is so pretty. He insists that he isn’t, but Duke regularly spends time with the Wayne family, all who have modeled before, so he’s got a better idea than most about what pretty  looks like, and Danny fits the bill. 
“Hey,” Duke calls out softly, watching as Danny slowly blinks his eyes open and turns to give him a warm smile.
���Hey! I’m free for the rest of the day, which means we have so much time to complain about things today.”
“I didn’t keep you waiting, did I?”
“Nope,” Danny says. “I wouldn’t mind waiting, though. I like hanging out with you.”
Heart pounding in his chest, Duke walks forward. He doesn’t know if there’s something specific he has to say when presenting his gift, if there’s a courting tradition involved that he didn’t learn about. He’s terrified Danny’s going to reject it. He’s praying that Danny accepts it.
“Are you okay?” Danny asks, standing to get a better look at him. “You seem tense…” He trails off as he catches sight of what Duke holds in his hands, breath stuttering.
“I’m fine. I, um.” Duke steps into the clearing, entering the sunlight, and holds out his wing covers. “I made them for you. You mentioned before that you thought courting traditions were romantic… I don’t know if you like wing covers, but I thought you’d look good in my feathers… Only if you want it though!”
He’s trying so hard not to cringe away in embarrassment. He’s flirted with Danny before, half jokes and half serious, always playful. Duke was smooth then, delighting in how flustered it made Danny before he hit back with his own flirting. Now he’s a hesitant, stuttering fool, tripping over his words and struggling to find the perfect things to say. Maybe he should have thought up a speech, or something. Memorized a few lines to speak his intentions with this courting gift. Done literally any prep for giving the gift instead of focusing only on making it.
Danny doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t move either. He just stares, wide-eyed at the wing covers in Duke’s hands.
That’s a bad sign, isn’t it.
His hands lower just a touch, and he quietly prompts, “Danny?”
Just as he’s about to pull back, step away and try to fix things, messily attempt to salvage their friendship because clearly Danny doesn’t want to be courted by Duke, Danny’s hands snap out whip-fast and latch onto his wrists.
“This is… for me?” he whispers, awed.
“Yeah. Yeah, it’s for you.”
“And you’re courting me? Like, for real?”
“Yeah, definitely courting you for real. Do you accept?”
Danny throws himself into Duke’s arms, careful not to crush the wing covers between them. “In what world would I say no?” he laughs, bright with joy. He pulls back a second later, not giving Duke time to hug him back, and turns around, carefully stretching his wings out. “Put them on for me?”
“Of course.”
He starts by smoothing out some of Danny’s feathers. He doesn’t get to do this often; Danny hates having his wings on display for anyone, with how they spasm occasionally, and have empty patches where feathers will never grow in again. The Accident, all that electricity coursing through him, it permanently damaged his wings. There is no healing to be done. 
His wings are lacking too many flight feathers and primaries for him to fly. He’s stuck on the ground now, unable to use his wings for more than a minute. Old burns are still visible closer to his spine. 
Danny prefers hiding his wings away. He hates thinking about the Accident, hates how it’s taken his wings from him, how it’s changed him completely. 
But Duke loves his wings. He loves the softness of Danny’s lower feathers, how they shine in the light, how they always puff up when it gets windy. He’s only gotten to preen them twice before, and he treasures those memories more dearly than anything else.
This easily outshines both those moments.
He gently combs his fingers through Danny’s feathers, straightening them out, then lays the first wing cover over his right wing. His own brown feathers drape over the top of Danny’s wings, hiding the featherless patches from view. He does the same to the other wing, then adjust both until they lay perfectly on Danny’s wings.
As soon as he lifts his hands away from Danny’s wings, Danny is spinning around with a grin, flaring his wings out.
“How do I look?”
“Perfect,” Duke answers. He was right; Danny looks good in his feathers.
He watches, fond and amused, as Danny spins, keeping his wings flared, admiring his new look. “I’m never taking these off,” he says. “I love them so much. I can’t really make one for you, though…”
“You don’t need to.”
“I can’t just accept this and not give you something in return!”
“Well… There is one thing you could give me. Something I’ve been wanting for a long time.”
“What is it?” Danny asks, leaning towards Duke. He’s eager, ready to please, so delighted to be courted. 
Duke smiles. “A kiss.”
“Done.” 
He doesn’t have time to react before Danny is pouncing on him, hands fisting the collar of his shirt as he tilts his head up and kisses Duke. He pulls back before Duke can kiss back, blushing and unbearably cute.
And all Duke manages to say is, “Cool.”
He’s so good at this.
Danny rightfully laughs at him, then grabs his hand and pulls him down to the bench. “Come on, I promised to complain about my teachers today and I intend to deliver. And maybe later, I could take you out on a date? If you want.”
“Danny, of course I want to go on a date with you. I’m courting you! I thought I made my feelings clear!”
“I’m just making sure!” Danny shouts over him, and Duke can’t resist the urge to pull him closer and pepper kisses along his cheek. “Okay, okay, I got it. You’ve made your feelings clear. I’m going to date you so hard.”
“You better. It’s about time you put some work into our relationship.”
“Excuse you?!” Danny gasps in mock outrage, and they start bickering lightheartedly as they always do.
Even with their feelings come to light, even with a courtship started and a date promised, it doesn’t feel like anything between them has changed. 
It’s just them. Just as it always has been.
Duke couldn’t be happier.
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