#quick access storage | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

marvelstoriesepic · 5 months ago

Text

Whumpcember (day 15)

Pairing: Avenger!Bucky x Avenger!Reader

Prompt: Broken glass

Word Count: 5.4k

Warnings: slight mentions of panic attacks; crying; slight injury and blood; Bucky being a sweetheart because I love him so much

Author’s note: This got unnecessarily long somehow. Again, this was meant to be a shorty. Also, I was in my feels when I wrote this. Anyway, thank you for reading!

Masterlist | Whumpcember Masterlist

The final box of Christmas decorations thuds to the ground as you let it down with a heavy huff. You straighten up your back with a grimace, rolling your shoulders.

You might think as an Avenger, carrying a few boxes, would be an easy task. After all, you are trained to thrive under the most punishing conditions, with sharp skills and boundless stamina. But after hauling all those cartons stuffed with tinsel, garlands, and ornaments up from the storage room to the towering Christmas tree in the compound’s common area, you are left panting like you’ve just run a marathon.

It’s almost laughable. Thankfully, you are alone for now. Sam would have a field day, smug grin plastered across his face at the state you’re in.

Wanda, Natasha, and Clint meant to help you with this but they were all still glued to the desk, writing reports, but Bucky is supposed to be back from his latest mission any minute now and you wanted to do this nice thing for him at least. He did sound a little worn out on the phone earlier when he called you to tell you they were on their way back.

So perhaps decorating the Christmas tree would lift his spirit a tiny bit. It’s the first step in what you hope will be a cozy and inviting scene - something Bucky might walk into and, for once, not feel like a soldier returning from a war zone but a man coming home.

The tree is a statement, of course. Tony insisted on it. It’s so tall, it might even brush the high ceiling of the room and there is no way you’ll get some ornaments all the way up without risking your life. And Bucky would definitely not brighten up if you tried it out.

So you’ll absolutely be needing Wanda’s help sooner or later. With a flick of her wrist, she could make this whole thing a hell of a lot easier but you don’t have the time to wait until she is done writing her report.

You let your eyes roam over the many ornaments lying neatly in the box before you and one of them immediately sparks your attention. Your fingers brush against the delicate surface of the red ornament placed almost carefully beside the others.

Its glass is smooth and cool, the color a deep crimson so much more in depth than all the others. You hold it up to the light, turning it slowly, marveling at how the glow from the tree’s string lights catches on its curves and the unique and detailed pattern all across.

It’s heavier than expected, the weight surprising for something so fragile. The gold clasp at the top gleams faintly, tarnished just a little with age. A thin ribbon dangles from it, curling at the end like it has been tied and untied countless times.

There is something about it, some intangible quality that draws you in - a sense of history, of significance.

And then it happens.

The ribbon slips from your grasp, too quick for your fingers to snatch it back. If you weren’t so enamored with the beautiful piece, you would have gotten access to your reflexes a little earlier.

It’s too late now though, and you can only watch in stunned silence as the ornament tumbles to the ground, the crimson surface catching flashes of light as it falls.

It hits the hardwood floor with a sound that is both sharp and final - a crack, then a splintering.

Disappointed in yourself, you crouch down to the shattered remains. Tiny shards of glass fan out like a constellation, glinting under the glow of the tree. The ornament is no longer whole, splintered into different-sized fragments.

Annoyed that you were so stupid and careless to let this special ornament fall to its devastation, you begin to pick up the many red pieces into your palm.

It really was unique. It would have looked great on the tree-

Your movements freeze. Your heart leaps to your throat. A rush of panic claws at your chest and rises up to your ears where it floods and pounds tremendously.

Rebecca B.

It’s a name ingrained into the largest surviving piece of the glass - a faint, looping scrawl. Clearly written by hand.

Rebecca Barnes. The realization makes you weak in the knees and you fall back onto your heels, your ass hitting the floor with a thump.

This isn’t just some random ornament. This isn’t another piece of holiday cheer to hang on a tree and forget about for the rest of the year after packing it back into boxes to store it in a corner of the storage room.

This ornament belonged to Rebecca Barnes. Bucky’s sister. Something Bucky kept all these years, hidden among the other decorations like a relic of a life he’d lost long before his own had been ripped apart.

The air around you feels heavy. The smell of pine from the tree now stings in your nose. Your heart might actually have fallen along with the ornament because it too is shattered in pieces.

The shards tremble in your palm and you stare at them along with the rest still lying helplessly on the ground, as if there is actually something you can do right now to go back in time and not pick it up ever again, just to make sure.

But there is nothing you can do.

Your heart breaks even further at the thought that Bucky might have put it here deliberately. Maybe it was an attempt to move forward, to share the memory of his sister. Maybe he thought the ornament didn’t belong in some dusty package hidden away, but out in the open, a part of the holiday warmth he’s been so hesitant to feel. Maybe it was his thought of remembering her with someone else this time, instead of alone.

This would be such a huge step for him. And you would feel so proud if you weren’t on the verge of a panic attack.

Because it’s broken, divided into so many pieces. You just dropped something so carelessly that probably meant the world to Bucky. And, god, did he deserve the world. But you took it. You contorted the precious memories of his little sister. Unwillingly, of course. But that doesn’t make you feel any better right now.

You have known Bucky for a few years now. Though knowing him feels like a word too shallow for what you share. You never labeled it, both of you walking the fine line, and never crossing it.

But you see that Bucky trusts you - the kind of trust he doesn’t hand out freely. And for good reason, after all. In fact, you’re not even sure he’s ever given it to anyone else in quite the same way, not even Steve. And that’s saying something.

You see it in the small things, in the way his guarded demeanor softens when it’s just the two of you, the soft smiles that seem to be reserved for you. It’s the kind of friendship where silence doesn’t have to be filled, and words don’t have to be spoken to be understood.

He lets you sit with him on the couch in the living room on nights when his past pulls him under and doesn’t allow for him to get some shut-eye. You are usually awake yourself, sometimes just running on adrenaline after coming home from a mission and accompanying him silently. He always seems to linger out here when you are away on a mission anyway, so you usually meet him here after getting home, watching his shoulders slowly droop and his back rest more comfortably against the back of the couch.

You are the first at his bedside when his nightmares claw at his mind. You’ve seen him at his most vulnerable - shirt clinging to his sweat-soaked chest, hair plastered to his face, his breaths coming in uneven gasps as you help him fight to pull himself out of his memories.

Those nights, you never push him to talk. You don’t ask him to explain or tell you what he saw. Without a word, you would hand him a glass of water and wait while he drinks, his hands trembling so slightly it makes your stomach feel heavy every time. Sometimes you tell him to breathe with you, in and out, until the panic subsided and his shoulders stopped shaking.

You were never sure how much touch he needs in those moments so you usually stay at a small distance from him, but it seems your presence alone does wonders.

When he would be ready, he always searched your face so long and intensely, before croaking out a heavy but meaningful “Thank you.”

And his small acts of kindness always fill you with a jittery feeling that makes your knees weak and unfortunately doesn’t help at all when fighting against Natasha in the ring.

Just a few weeks ago, Bucky spent an entire Saturday afternoon fixing the squeaky hinge on your bedroom door because he heard you muttering to Wanda about how annoying it was.

He never even told you he was going to do it. You just came back to your room later that evening to find the door silent as a ghost. It took a whole week for you to find out how this happened. And it wasn’t him, who told you. It was Clint, who saw him walk around with a toolbox and a satisfied smile on his face that Clint, as he told you found a little terrifying.

Additionally, he always seems to know when you need a break during training sessions, tossing you a water bottle before you even realize how tired you are. Or he would plant himself wordlessly between you and your opponent for the day, with his arms crossed and a chastising glance at you when you’ve been fighting for hours without acknowledging the way your movements already grew sluggish and wobbly.

You are always aware when his hands linger on your shoulder a second longer after a sparring match, his metal fingers cold but careful, as if he’s memorizing the feel of you there. Or the way your stomach twists when he catches your eye across the room, and for just a moment, it’s like the rest of the world falls away. And the way he talks to you, even when people are around, his voice lower, softer, words chosen with an almost uncharacteristic care, makes you feel like you’re the only person he truly is interested in talking to. You also love the nights he shows up at your door with takeout, wordlessly handing you your favorite meal, and striding into your room to settle at the foot of your bed with a contented sigh.

Through it all, however, was always this persistent question you had. The one that molded into an ache inside your chest. Because what if? What if you took one step closer and stopped holding back? What if you risk everything you have with him now for something more?

But right now you feel like those questions don’t hold the same energy anymore. The same weight. No, they just got weightless. Pointless. Because you just ruined everything without even risking it.

You just destroyed something that can’t be fixed with glue and an apology. It can’t be fixed with you sitting with him and comforting him in the dark while his mind goes to the same cruel place like many times before.

This feels like you’ve crossed a line you can’t uncross.

The wrong line.

Shaking hands pick up the largest fragment, the soft loops of her name still visible through the fractures. The sharp ends bite into your palm like the memory of something sacred that’s been lost. You don’t feel the sting. You don’t feel the sensation of the few droplets of blood sliding over your palm where the ends nicked your skin.

The only thing you register is that this foolish mistake might actually unravel everything you’ve built with him.

He let you in, further than anyone, but that doesn’t mean he won’t push you back out if you give him a reason. And this definitely feels like a reason.

Your mind presents you with his reaction when he comes walking in here and sees what happened.

At first, there’d be nothing - just the stoic silence he uses to sink into, the kind that makes it impossible to tell what he’s thinking. But you’d see it in the smallest of things - the way his jaw tightens just enough to be noticeable, the flicker in his eyes that he’ll try to hide but won’t be able to, the stiffening of his shoulders. And then the desolation, like a tide pulling back just before it crashes. You wonder if he would say anything at all, or if the silence would hang heavy.

You swallow hard, begin to feel the sting behind your eyes, and try to force the lump in your throat down.

You’ve worked so hard to be someone he could rely on, someone he could trust in ways he hasn’t trusted anyone else in decades. You’ve sat with him, listened to him, stayed silent with him. Learned to know him so well, you even memorized the subtle shifts in his expressions, the things he won’t say but still lets you feel.

And now, here you are with broken glass in your hands and a painful feeling in your chest, terrified that this could be the moment that shatters the thing between you.

He might pull away, retreat behind those walls he’s spent years building. What if he doesn’t let you sit with him anymore. Or what if he does, but his shoulder would only grow more tense. What if he starts holding back, measuring his words, locking the parts of himself away that he once entrusted to you?

The idea of losing him - not just losing him, but losing this connection, this unspoken, almost-more-than-friendship thing that you’ve both been too afraid to name - makes your breath catch and something rise in your chest that might be bile.

A sob comes out instead.

It comes out like a wound ripped open before it could begin to heal. You press a quivering hand to your mouth, in hopes of muffling the sound, but it’s no use. More broken sobs come anyway.

You try to pull yourself together, to force the tears back, but your body feels so weak under the guilt and shame.

More parts of the broken ornament bite into your skin, red droplets welling up and sliding down your skin, pooling at the curve of your wrist, before falling soundlessly to the floor.

Pain should ground you. It should pull you out of this spiral, force you to snap back to some semblance of control. But it doesn’t. It doesn’t do anything at all.

Instinctively, your hand gives way, the pieces tumbling from your fingers and scattering across the hardwood once more.

You only sit there, frozen, your breath hitching and catching in your throat as tears streak down your face, warm and unwelcome. You can’t stop them.

You’re not supposed to be this weak. You’re not supposed to break down like this, over something so small. And yet that makes the sobs only harder to contain. Because this isn’t small - not to Bucky. And that’s the part that leaves you as shattered as the crimson glass. Perhaps as shattered as your relationship with the person you fell for as hard as the ornament fell to the ground.

It’s Rebecca. His sister. His past. His grief. It’s a tiny piece of his life that he trusted enough to bring out of hiding, to put here with the rest of the world, in the open where it could be seen. Where it could be touched. And you touched it, only to let it fall. Only to ruin it.

Shame knocks down on you so hard, you draw your knees up to your chest, curling into yourself as though you could make yourself smaller, invisible, anything but this.

You don’t even know what to do with your blood-streaked palm, only letting it hover in the air, the shallow cuts glistening under the still-glowing lights of the tree. It’s a mess. You are a mess. Curling your fingers into a fist, you wince in pain at the stinging of the cuts but you leave it like that.

Perhaps you are overreacting, sitting here on the floor in the common area of the compound with a bleeding hand and the shattered remains of Rebecca Barnes's memory, but you feel so helpless and remorseful, you can’t really think straight at the moment.

The sound of the elevator is faint, but it’s enough to reach your ears. You freeze. You just sit there, knees drawn to your chest, blood smeared across your palm, the shattered glass of the ornament glittering like broken stars on the floor.

You are tear-streaked, trembling, your chest still hitching with uneven breaths and Bucky just got home.

Those approaching footsteps are so familiar to you, you would always recognize his gate. Usually, it’s comforting, grounding to know he got home and would leave you with relief in your chest.

But there is no place for relief in your chest right now.

His footsteps sound normal, steady, perhaps a little hurried but he hasn’t reached this room yet.

You don’t look up. Instead, you bite your lip to stop the sob that threatens to escape. The shame is too sharp, cutting deeper than any piece of the ornament and making your heart bleed as well.

Maybe if you stay still, if you stay quiet, he’ll miss you somehow.

But then his steps come to an abrupt halt and you know you are screwed.

Burning tears spike once more and the sob breaks free.

“Woah, hey-” he calls out, so urgent, so worried.

Bucky is across the room in a heartbeat, dropping to his knees in front of you with a speed that catches you off guard.

“Sweetheart, hey.” It falls from his lips so softly, so worried, it nearly breaks you all over again.

Tears fall more freely at the kind of tenderness in his tone and suddenly his hand is cupping your face, thumb, and knuckles brushing the streaks of wetness from your cheeks.

But they keep coming.

“Look at me, please! Doll, look at me,” he murmurs, his voice impossibly gentle, but dripping with so much concern. His metal hand is on your face as well and he tilts it upward, guiding your gaze toward his.

His brows are drawn so deeply, lips parting slightly as he studies your face - the tear tracks, the desolation in your eyes, the shame and guilt, the trembling of your shoulders.

You can’t look at him. Can’t bear to see it. So you squeeze your eyes shut, hoping you’ll ever be able to forget that look on his face. Not when you know what’s coming. Not when you know what you have caused.

Just wait until he sees it, you think. That look will change.

“No,” he whispers, his voice so soft again, but there is a firmness in it. The pad of his flesh thumb smooths gently across your cheek again, while his metal fingers move to your hair. “Hey, no, don’t do that. It’s okay. Y/n, it’s okay!”

You shake your head quickly and try to say something, anything, but all that comes out is a choked sound, half-sob, half-breath. He doesn’t understand. He doesn’t know what he’s saying. He doesn’t know what this is about.

You want to stay hidden behind the veil of your closed eyes, safe from not seeing what you know will be there in perhaps seconds when he figures it out - disappointment, maybe anger, the grief of what you’ve broken.

“Open your eyes, sweetheart, please.”

There is something in his voice you can’t ignore. It sounds unshakable and steady, yet fragile and thick.

Slowly, reluctantly, your eyes flutter open to meet his, but when you do, you freeze.

Because he already knows.

He looks at you. Just looks, but you see he already put the pieces together. He saw the shards scattering around your knees. His expression is softer than you’ve ever seen it but he looks at you with an intensity that is new to you. There is that understanding in his eyes. But it’s so soft. So gentle.

There is no anger, no frustration, no disappointment.

There is nothing of the reaction you had feared for.

Yes, there is pain in his eyes as well. It’s unmistakable, flickering in the soft blue of his irises. But it’s not the pain you expected.

It’s not for the ornament. It’s not for what it meant.

It’s for you.

You can see it in the way his brows crease, the frown that tugs at his mouth. And the way he never once lets his gaze stray to the shards on the floor. All he looks at is you.

Bucky keeps his hands on your face, continuing to swipe over your cheeks like he’s afraid you’ll crumble if he lets go. Then, his thumbs still, resting against your cheekbones, his touch so achingly gentle that it only makes more tears fall.

“Sweetheart,” he says again, and the word cracks, quiet and uneven. He still doesn’t look angry. He still doesn’t look disappointed. He looks devastated - not for what you’ve done, but for what it’s done to you.

Your lips tremble, barely able to form words.

“It’s okay, baby. It’s okay. Come here.”

Baby definitely is a new one. It’s something he’s never called you before. But there is no time to linger on it, no chance to unpack the flutter it sparks in your stomach because he’s already pulling you toward him.

His flesh arm wraps around your body, tugging you against his chest, while his metal hand finds its place at the back of your head, cold but reassuring fingers threading through your hair.

He lets you cry against his chest. Cradles you so tightly to him, you might actually get worried about your ribs, but it feels so good. His chest rises and falls beneath your cheek, his heart is pounding. The fabric of his tactical suit presses against your skin, rough and worn from the mission he just came back from, but it grounds you to some extent.

“It’s okay. Just breathe, alright? Breathe,” he keeps whispering, exaggerating his breaths against your body to invite you to follow his lead. You try.

“I’m so sorry,” you sob, the words spilling out in a choked, broken rush as you bury your face in his chest. The tears won’t stop, soaking into the dark fabric of his suit.

“Shh,” he keeps on with his soft voice. His arm around you tightens, holding you closer, while his metal hand stays solidly at the back of your head. His fingers brush through your hair in slow, soothing motions. “Don’t be. Don’t you dare be.”

He continues murmuring to you when you try to apologize again, his voice low and warm. He talks so calmly and sure, you feel something inside of you churn.

Bucky tilts his head slightly, resting his cheek against your hair, and you feel the warmth of his breath as he talks to you.

And yet, biting guilt gnaws its way through your ribs. You feel terrible - worse than terrible - because it should be you comforting him, not the other way around.

It’s him who lost something precious, something you had broken. And here he is, holding you, brushing tears from your face, whispering words meant to stitch you back together.

But somehow, he doesn’t even seem to care. He holds you like you are the only thing that matters right now.

Remorse burrows deep, heavy, and shaming, until it pulls you back to yourself - slowly, shakily, but enough to loosen the sobs caught in your throat.

You sniff and take a breath, a real one this time, ragged but yours.

Then, you shift in his arms, gently pressing against his chest to put space between you. His hold loosens, slowly, with a hesitation that tugs at something in you. As if he is reluctant to let you go. Still, he relents.

His flesh hand slides away first, but his metal one lingers, brushing through your hair one last time before settling on your shoulder. He keeps you close, his thumb brushing absentminded sweeps across your sweater.

His gaze never strays and it’s heavy. You can’t meet his eyes for long. They’re too full of that care you don’t deserve, the care he shows you in so many small gestures all the time.

So your gaze falls to the floor, but then you freeze again.

The broken shards that had glinted so mockingly against the floor just moments ago are gone. Instead, settled carefully on the coffee table as though it had never fallen at all, is the ornament.

Whole.

It takes you a moment to process it, to trust what you’re seeing. The cracks are gone, smoothed over seamlessly. The gleaming red glass catches the light of the Christmas tree, its golden little details shining like something out of a memory, timeless and unbroken. As beautiful and aesthetic as before.

For a moment, you even wonder if your eyes are playing tricks on you, but then you notice Wanda standing at the far side of the room. Her hands lower slowly, the telltale red glow of her magic fading from her fingertips.

She doesn’t say anything, doesn’t step closer - just tilts her head slightly, offering you the faintest, knowing smile. Her eyes are warm.

God, of course. You should have thought of that. It even makes you feel a little ridiculous. You live together with people who possess supernatural abilities, powers beyond comprehension. You should have thought of Wanda. How her hands could have mended it back together in seconds.

A choked breath stumbles out of you, somewhere between relief and disbelief. Bucky follows your gaze, his brows furrowing, only to soften when he sees the ornament resting perfectly intact on the table. He stares at it for a moment.

But then he looks back at you and his sweet smile could melt any ice this winter has to offer.

His flesh hand moves a few strands of hair out of your face and tugs them tenderly behind your ear. His hand stays on your cheek. “Told you it’s okay.”

You let out a shaky breath. “I still broke it,” you say, words slipping out quietly, somberly. Your gaze remains fixed on it. Wanda seems to have slipped out again.

“Stop,” Bucky cuts in, his voice more firm than before but still gentle as always. He shakes his head, moving closer to you again, gaze fixed on you.

You feel his hand brush against yours, but then his shoulders stiffen up. He stops. His eyes catch on something and his expression shifts in an instant.

“Jesus-” His frown deepens, something like a shadow crosses his eyes. Sharp eyes lock onto the red streaks lining your palm, the cuts where the shattered glass had broken your skin.

You hadn’t even realized you were still holding onto the pain - too caught up in everything else to notice the dull throb of your hand or the sting of the scratches.

“You’re bleeding. Why didn’t you say anything?” The words are a quiet exhale, soft but weighted. There is no reprimand in his voice, no anger - only concern coloring every syllable.

His thumb ghosts over your wrist, careful not to brush against the cuts. His intense gaze flickers from your injured hand to your face, searching your expression.

“It’s not a big deal-”

“Don’t.”

Bucky shakes his head. His jaw tightens and he exhales sharply through his nose. It’s not frustration - not with you, anyway. It’s something deeper, something that seems to pain him in his chest as he studies the scratches like they’re a personal failing.

“Bucky,” you say while trying to pull your hand back from his grasp when he tilts it more toward the light to get a better look. As if he hasn’t the eyesight of a super soldier.

“Doll. Let me see.” His lips press into a thin line, the faintest hint of exasperation ghosting across his face.

The sigh you let out drags down your chest and you don’t resist when Bucky keeps cradling your bleeding hand and studies the scratches. His brow is furrowed in concentration that feels too much for something so small.

You want to tell him it’s fine, that this is nothing, but the words die before they reach your tongue.

“Let’s get you fixed up,” he says tightly, the tone of his voice all business and leaving no room for argument.

But you shake your head. It’s your fault the ornament broke in the first place. You’re aware it’s whole again, but it was in shambles just moments earlier and you cut yourself thanks to your own stupidity.

“Bucky, you just got back from a mission-” you protest, your voice quieter than you’d like.

“Not too worried about myself right now, doll,” he interrupts, his voice insistent but warm. The hint of steel beneath his words not directed at you but at the way your guilt is still in control, trying to downplay yourself.

“Come on.” He says it softer now, but before you can argue any further, he’s already moving.

Without so much as a pause, Bucky stands and scoops you up into his arms as though it’s the most natural thing in the world.

You barely have a second to process the shift, before you’re pressed securely against his chest.

“Bucky!” you exclaim, startled, your uninjured hand reaching for his shoulder to steady yourself.

“Relax, doll. I’ve got you,” he murmurs, his voice low and almost amused, though his expression remains calm, focused.

You sigh again, but there is a laugh on your breath. “Buck, I can walk. You don’t have to-”

“Not hearing it,” he says simply, almost flatly. He just continues striding along the halls with you in his arms. His steps are heavier, but you know it’s not because of your weight. He holds you like you weigh nothing at all. “You’re hurt.”

That doesn’t sound like a plausible explanation to you, since you’ve come home with way worse injuries from missions over the last months alone. But the gruffness of his voice, the one that always accompanies him when you’re injured, no matter how small - the seriousness, the concern - it shuts you up for the time being.

You let your head rest against his shoulder. He smells a little like gunpowder and dust, but you only latch onto the parts that are him and breathe them in.

“I didn’t mean to break it, Bucky,” to whisper, gaze dropping to the tightly pressed ball that is your bloody fist. “I’m so sorry.”

You feel the intake of Bucky’s breath against your body and his eyes warmly falling down on you. You don’t meet his gaze.

“You didn’t break anything, sweetheart.” His voice is like velvet, brushing so softly against your skin. So reassuringly. So profoundly gentle. “You’re okay, doll. We’re okay. I promise.” His hands curl tighter around you.

You blink, your head tilting to glance up at him, and your breath catches when you meet his gaze.

It is intense. His brows are pulled together - not with anger, but with concern. Like the only things he cares about right now are the tears that linger in your eyes and the way you’re still trying to curl in on yourself, still letting your body slightly shake with the guilt that he refuses to let you carry.

Something stirs in your belly. Something flutters, as if thousands of tiny wings brush against the walls of you, demanding to be seen. To be felt.

Because you let your mind spiral so much earlier, bracing yourself for a reaction of disappointment, frustration - that flicker of something unnameable that might pull the two of you apart.

But it still isn’t there.

Not even close.

It’s the opposite, really.

#whumpcember24 #whumpcember2024 #whumpcember day15 #marvel bucky barnes #marvel mcu #bucky marvel #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes whump #james bucky buchanan barnes #james bucky barnes #bucky fic #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes comfort #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x y/n #avenger!reader #avenger!Bucky

826 notes · View notes

gojoest · 1 year ago

Text

[11:05pm]

MDNI, f! reader, established relationship (you’re married), calls you “love”, “baby” + “my beautiful wife”, reader wears a dress, fingering, brief masturbation (satoru, while fingering you), takes you against the wall, unprotected sex, clothed sex, creampie, not proofread, wc: 1.7k

satoru’s been having a hard time keeping his hands off you, looking for ways to get into your pants all day.

but alas, you both have been busy organizing the housewarming party — picking up decorations for your new house, putting them up to create a festive atmosphere, dealing with caterers all day and eventually the party itself and entertaining your guests.

towards the end of the night, he was running out of patience. you could tell by the way his hands were constantly clutched around your waist, pulling you closer against him and subtly rubbing himself on your ass, and also the few hints he gave you here and there (every 5 minutes) to go help him find something (release) in the storage room. to you, he’s always been an open book.

“fucking finally”, closing the door after seeing off the last few guests, satoru sighs with content.

“that’s so rude, satoru”, you nag at him.

stepping closer to you, he grabs your chin and makes you look at him. his other hand circling around your waist and stopping at the small of your back to press your body against him. “what’s rude is making me wait so long. i’ve been hard all day, it hurts”

“my bad”, you grin at him innocently, finally giving in after an entire day of resisting his desperate attempts. you hug your arms around him, “what can i do to atone for my bad behavior?”

“let me think”, he gives you a rascal smile before pulling you in for a kiss. his lips soft but dangerously desperate and yearning for yours, mashing against your mouth as he slowly walks you against the wall. ass and back pressed against it and with him in front of you, it feels like you’re now squished in between two walls with nowhere to run. not that you complain at all, and not that he’d hear you even if you did. all he can think about right now is how badly he wants to be inside your tight pussy, stretching you until he bottoms out.

“lift you dress up for me, baby. i’ll handle the rest”, he whispers, the lust thick in his voice.

“here? in the hallway?”, you blink at him.

“yea”, he swipes his tongue across his lips, “i’m afraid, i can’t wait till we reach the bedroom. we were bound to christen the hallway sooner or later anyway”

scoffing at him, you push him back. slowly riding the dress that’s tightly wrapped around your body up.

the sight of you giving access to your cunt for him to fuck drags a long groan out of him. he always loved watching you get undressed for him, it tranced him. but there was something very, very special about you pulling your little dress or skirt up for him to hit it while you kept the rest on. it was so dirty, but in the best possible way. turned him primal, made him lose his mind every single time.

“s-shit…”, he groans once again, his hands working on unbuckling his own slacks all while watching you rid yourself of the underwear and toss it on the floor. “you’re making me crazy, baby”, he whispers audibly, to which you smile. it was cute to watch him crumble like that.

you lean against the wall, observing the way he slides down his pants to his hips and then, with a quick swift move, whips his swollen cock out and it slaps against his belly. what a beautiful sight, what an obscene sound, you think. it makes you shudder. being painfully familiar with how good and even more massive it feels inside your tight pussy, you find yourself clenching on emptiness, eagerly anticipating him.

he steps close, one hand slowly stroking his cock and the other reaching in between your legs, fingers in seek of your heat. “so pretty. so soft. so wet for me already”, he quietly speaks into your ear as a thick digit slides into your weeping cunt.

“nghh..”, you flinch and step on your toes from the sensation of his finger, squeezing him unintentionally.

“is that not enough for my baby?”, he coos. “then how about another one?”, he pulls his finger out only to return with two of them. “better? mm?”

“stop teasing me, you idiot”, you nuzzle your head against his chest to muffle your moans, hands grabbing at his shoulders.

“does this translate to ‘fuck me properly’, hm? my beautiful wife wants my cock so bad?”, he teases even further, plunging his fingers in and out of your slick pussy. the hallway filled with loud squishing noises from his fingers fucking you. if anyone were to walk by your front door, you’re pretty sure they would hear the inappropriate sounds your pussy made.

“don’t act all high and mighty on me now”, you tap on his shoulder, then grab him harder to support yourself as you press and hump against his hand. “i know you want to fuck me properly too, you’ve been yearning all day. no?”, you lift you head to look up at him. “just look at yourself — so desperate for it that you’re wanking off both of us yourself”

he chuckles at your words. true. as his fingers fucked themselves deep inside you, his other hand moved in slow strokes around his cock. he had to go slow, because he was way too aroused. if he were to pick up the pace, he’d unload his balls and blow his cum right then and there.

“it’d be such a waste if you finished now…”, you stroke his cheek, “while you have the option to stuff me full”, knowing well he wouldn’t resist your words.

“you’re so manipulative, love”, his fingers slam harder for one last time, making your whole body jerk forward, before he pulls them out, covered and glistening with your arousal that he cleans with his mouth. “always getting under my skin…”

you shoot him a victorious smile which he wipes off with his lips. part of him embarrassed that he caved in so quickly, falling weak to his desire of you. he wanted to tease you a little bit longer, but you always had your way with him. making his resolve crumble with a single word.

“…but i’ll get under yours now”, breaking the kiss, he whispers. then bends a little to catch your leg in the crook of his arm, stands straight and lifts it, opening your thighs wider while your leg dangles in the air. the head of his cock taps against your belly and you feel the pulse throbbing in it.

the only support you have right now is your other leg, the wall behind you and satoru who holds you in place. both of your hands wrap around his neck, pulling him in for a kiss, as he starts guiding his cock towards your entrance, his head slowly slipping inside.

“oh god” — you both simultaneously moan out. a deep groan follows shortly after and vibrates through his throat and into your mouth from feeling you open inch by inch for him as he slides it almost entirely in. he needed to go deeper though, the root of his cock still out and uncovered by your walls.

he pulls out and grabs your other leg into his arms, hoisting you into the air and pressing you harder against the wall while you hold on tight to his shoulders. after looking down and catching a glimpse of your dewy pussy lips pouting open for his cock, he throws his head back and curses under his breath, desperately trying to hold in the load in his balls. he shuts his eyes close and counts to ten, then looks back at you. eyes lovesick, yearning and a little bit watery. “what you do to me is not humane at all”

“hmm, don’t you love it?”, you crane your neck enough to press your forehead against his, looking deep into your favorite pair of eyes.

“oh, i do. i so do love it”, he breathes out, staring back at yours. then takes a deep breath before he enters you again. spreading your lips and diving deep until he bottoms out in you in a single thrust. you’re so wet and welcoming, his cock goes all the way in effortlessly. the position being perfect, too, to fully hide himself in you.

your legs lock around his back as his pelvis starts rolling and jarring against you, panting breaths of pleasure and skin slapping against each other echoing throughout the hallway of your house. satoru’s hips were charging with such desperation, slamming against you so hard, that you were sure the places where his flesh met yours were already red.

“nghh…”, you mewl through gritted teeth, feeling yourself starting to cum as you suck him as deeply as possible, your wetness increasing now and bathing his cock in it. “…d-don’t stop, d-don’t…augh”

“f-fuck…you say that as if it’s easy, baby. do you have any idea how good you feel?”, he barely drags out. your added slickness making it hard for him to control his thrusts now, too difficult to adapt and stop his cock from sliding in and out of you too quickly that his legs start shaking.

seeing him so desperate and sloppy with his movements was such a turn-on, it was really doing it for you. not that his cock wasn’t hitting the sweetest of your spots. but that was the last push you needed towards your climax.

“i’m— ah, i’m cumming”, you stutter, your orgasm coming onto you hard. head falling in the crook of his neck, nails digging into his clothed shoulders, eyes rolling back as he keeps hitting his cock into your sore cunt, chasing his own release.

“s-shit—“, he grunts throatily. his cock feeling bigger, more bloated and harder than ever as he pounds a few more times into you before burying himself still and emptying his balls into your sopping hole. hot spurts of cum gush inside you, his body jerking after each load.

both of you stand there for a few minutes, trying to catch your breaths — you’re still wrapped around him while his cock’s got you nailed against the wall.

“you think i can carry you to the bedroom without pulling out? it should work, right? my cock’s big enough, won’t slip out”, satoru breaks the silence.

“you flexing now?”, you chuckle. “why don’t you give it a try? i don’t feel my legs anyway”

“oh my, did i make it hard for you to walk?”, he sneers at you proudly.

“oh shut up and carry me”

#ઈઉ — ai writes #[ ♡ ] — satoru #gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojo smut #gojo satoru smut #jjk x reader #jjk smut

2K notes · View notes

osakanone · 4 months ago

Text

Wearable Input Device: "Spokey Dokey"?

So seeing this I had a thought:

Thinking of Sampson Lee's neat keyboard in Cowboy Bebop the Movie, I tried threading an N52 Speedpad into a belt assembly to see how it might look and feel to type on with chording and yeah this is actually pretty great actually?

This absoloutely feels like something a mecha pilot would wear, that would allow for robust access in the field, or make the pilot suit part of the interface of the robot to do all the startup checklists on before using the HOSAS inceptor grips.

Note the same throughhole in the N52 which lets me thread it into a belt also lets you put your fingers in, akin to gripping a joystick.

I think with some refinement you could fit an analogue trigger and a bumper in here, and the thumb-cluster could be expanded slightly to include some other inputs.

Its begging for a trackball or an analogue stick in truth.

Genuinely surprised by how comfortable this is from a Human Factors Engineering standpoint???? Like, "putting your hands in your pockets" level comfortable, and it would be even better with a wrist-loop or something.

It beats the pants off of any cyberdeck esque project I've ever tried in terms of usability so I think this is something which needs to be iterated upon actually???

It hangs very naturally and you can vary the angle by adjusting it against the rubbedr of the quick-release strap. My one complaint is the base is designed for a desk and I think it could stand to be curved to better conform to the hip or leg which I think could cut the total size down considerably.

Even sat in a chair this feels surprisingly comfortable, with my only complaint being that its conflicting with the strap of my repurposed shoulder-bag, which is its own entirely different issue and that the default switches kind of suck.

The interior has a ton of room so you could absoloutely squeeze a decent battery and a Rasberry Pi in this thing, or use it as a pure input device that doubles as a USB hub/storage (SD card) and uses the spare room to charge a phone.

Two of these would give you a pretty bonkers battery life if you had one on either hip.

I think with ultra low profiles, a curved form, a slightly more robust strapping mechanism and a means to plug this into a smartphone as the middle computer (with something like a pair of smart-glasses as the display) you could have really really robust wearable computer and if you add a second one on the other hip, you've solved the wpm problem.

btw I typed this entire post on it, only lifting my hands off to use my trackball.

Those of you who work on cyberdecks, I genuinely think there's something to this. Wearable split keyboards which are ruggedized with tougher switches absoloutely feel like they are something which should exist.

#mechposting #pilotcore #cyberdeck #wearable tech

435 notes · View notes

lvlybin · 2 months ago

Note

If you have time OT9 on marking you up? The thought of letting people know you are theirs kinda killing me >< if you have time and willing to write of course ^^

cw kissing, neck kissing, marking, hickies, biting, mentions of sex, mentions of oral sex (f!receiving), lowkey a breeding kink in Hanbin's part, Binnie's a little drunk in his part, jealousy & reassurance :) 18+ MDNI

✉️ hi my love! sorry it took me so long to respond to this :( exams have been CRAZY for me... anyways, I just did legal line with this, but I hope you enjoy!

ㅤ ⎯⎯ㅤ 𝓙iwoong ﹙𝓴.﹚

It was one of those nights when Jiwoong had invited you to a work party with him. Any evening spent with him was perfect, especially when he would show you off. Jiwoong always made you feel so treasured and loved, all while he worshiped the ground you walked on. And the way he’d introduced you to his team members that night with a huge smile on his face only proved that further. It was nice meeting Jiwoong’s colleagues; like you were being shown another glimpse of his everyday, more intimate life. You were shown a glimpse of something else, too.

After returning home from the party, you’d been quick to head to the en-suite bathroom of your shared room to remove your makeup and get ready for bed. Jiwoong followed closely behind you, you still in your formal dress and him still in his suit as you began to take care of your skin. “I didn’t realize how long these events could go on for,” you hum, still high off the feeling of the amazing evening. Your eyes meet Jiwoong’s in the mirror. They’re a shade darker than usual, his pupils dilated as he consumes the image of you getting ready for bed. What truly sends a wave of warmth through you, though, is the smile that doesn’t quite meet his eyes.

“They usually don’t,” Jiwoong comments as he moves closer to you. “Everyone just wanted to talk to you, though, didn’t they…” His hands run over your sides before settling on your waist. The touch leaves a tingling sensation in their wake, just like always, but you do your best to continue removing your makeup. Jiwoong’s hands tighten around your middle. “Can’t blame them, though. This dress looks beautiful on you.”

A small gasp leaves you as his lips lower to the skin of your neck, and subconsciously, you tilt your head back to give him more access. The kisses are warm, lulling you into a familiar state of comfort and beginning sparks of pleasure. Jiwoong’s usually gentle in soft, quiet moments like these. Even with the underlying tension beginning to grow akin to the pleasure heating in your veins. His mouth works to suck gently at all of the sensitive spots he’s mapped out on your body, causing your body to tremble in his arms from the combination of pleasure and the way his tongue licks over your skin before he moves on.

By the time he pulls away, you can barely keep your eyes open. Your brain already feels a bit fuzzy from the intense amount of attention, and your panties are thoroughly soaked. Jiwoong smirks a little as he trails his thumb over the string of hickies he’s left on you: a blossoming red that would later darken to purple. You’d be lucky if he let you cover them up. “Should’ve done that before we left.”

ㅤ ⎯⎯ㅤ 𝓗ao ﹙𝔃.﹚

“You’re no fun,” Hao whispers to you, his body pressed closely to yours as the darkness of this random storage closet prevents you from fully seeing him.

“And you’re acting like a child,” you retort quietly as your eyes adjust. His freshly dyed pink hair is still noticeable even in this dim lighting and is fluffy as always, while his full lips press into a pout. The entire group was excited for this comeback, you included, and performing the tracks at music shows was a highlight for all of you, especially your boyfriend, who put his entire being into giving the fans his best. At least, it was supposed to be fun for him until another male idol got a little too close and a little too friendly to you for his liking. Now, here you were, pinned between Hao and the wall with only a few minutes before your group was due on stage. “You’re going to get us in trouble–”

“You already are in trouble.” You resist the urge to roll your eyes at his words, opting to reach up to place your hands on his shoulders. “Come on, YNie, reassure your boyfriend.”

Hao had everyone wrapped around his finger, and he knew it. Knew that he wouldn’t get in trouble for being a little late, wouldn’t be in trouble with you for letting his jealousy get the best of him, wouldn’t get in trouble as his lips find your neck. Your grip on his shoulders tightens as your body presses closer to his at the sudden stimulation, and in turn, his hands grip your waist, ruffling whatever stupid skirt and accessories the stylist had put on you that day.

“I’ll do it myself then,” Hao mumbles against your skin, the feeling of his breath causing you to shudder. The feeling of him smirking against your neck? That has wetness pooling in your panties. You don’t have any time to protest as Hao busies himself with marking you. His teeth graze against your neck teasingly, reminding you of the way they would play with your clit when his mouth was on another part of your body, and his fingers dig further into your hips to hold you in place. A small whimper leaves you as he bites down a bit harder on an extra-sensitive spot, making you squirm in his grip.

“Let me finish,” Hao breathes against your skin, the scent of his hair overwhelming your nose as he sucks harshly at your neck. “Want him to know you’re mine. Want everyone to know…” Finally, he pulls away, one of his hands leaving your trembling body to fish his phone out of his back pocket. The brightness of the flashlight feature has you blinking quickly, unprepared for the sudden change of lighting. But you can see the way Hao’s pupils dilate as his fingers find your chin and force you to tilt your head. The only sounds in the storage closet is your and Hao’s heavy breathing as he assesses the marks he’s left.

When he’s satisfied with his work, the light turns off. Instead, the natural lighting from the door being opened floods the closet. “If the makeup artist tries to cover them up, tell her no.”

ㅤ ⎯⎯ㅤ 𝓗anbin ﹙𝓼.﹚

The sounds of Hanbin’s giggles meet your ears as he rolls over with you on the bed again. You weren’t sure what had caused this burst of energy from him, but it was definitely too late in the day for it. It was probably the alcohol he’d had at dinner with you. Your boyfriend was tipsy. He laughs again as your head hits the pillow, a small huff leaving you. “You’re so cute,” Hanbin mumbles, the tone of his voice making it sound like he’s in awe.

You would return the compliment if you weren’t so tired and he was the only thing standing between you and sleep. “I’m tired,” you correct. Hanbin grumbles something as he buries his face in your neck. His arms are wrapped tightly around your body, pinning your arms to your sides. “And you’re going to be too when you sober up a little.”

“M’not drunk,” he protests, voice muffled by your skin. The tickling sensation has you squirming under him. And it certainly doesn’t go unnoticed by him, and you can feel his body tense a little. “I’ll prove it…” The determination in his voice has every bit of sleepiness leaving you, the familiar sensation of arousal beginning to course through your bloodstream.

Still, you sigh, knowing Hanbin shouldn’t be doing anything like this with you while he’s under the influence. “We should sleep, Bin.” He shushes you, nose running along the curve of your neck as he breathes your scent in. When his eyes flutter shut and a small whine escapes him, you know he’s gone.

“How am I supposed to sleep with you underneath me?” Then, his lips find your neck.

Hanbin’s such a tease, barely making contact with your neck before biting down a little, making you twist in his hold. Teasing in the way he would chuckle every time some kind of noise would escape your throat and with the way he purposely would brush over the sensitive spots on your neck, neglecting them. He scatters love bites all along the column of your throat, a sense of satisfaction calming his tipsy mind at the sight of you bearing his marks. If he had it his way, you’d be marked in a different way (your stomach round with his child), but now’s not the time for that. Instead, he continues running his tongue over your skin, sucking hard enough for your skin to bloom with color. When he finally pulls away, he has a dazed look in his eyes that you’re sure matches your expression. “See? M’drunk– M’not drunk enough to forget that you’re most sensitive.” He pauses to press a fleeting kiss to your neck, “Spot is here.”

ㅤ ⎯⎯ㅤ 𝓜atthew ﹙𝓼.﹚

Matthew was always busy, always moving, so it was normal for him to have a bit too much energy when he’s been lying with you for a significant amount of time. His hands grip your sides just a bit tighter every now and then, like he’s trying to calm himself down. It’d been a lazy day for the two of you, just lounging around your apartment and enjoying each other’s company. Now, cuddled up on the couch, it was clear Matthew wanted something. And by the way his eyes kept darting to your neck, you had a feeling you knew what it was.

“Matt?” He hums when you say his name. “What’s wrong?” His body shifts against yours as his warm brown eyes meet yours.

“Nothing. Just want to keep cuddling.” Right. You resist the urge to roll your eyes at the cheeky smile that grows on his face. “Whattt?”

“You keep looking at my neck.” His smile somehow gets bigger.

“I just think it looks empty.” And a few moments later, he had you underneath him as his mouth worked at your neck. Small kisses had been peppered along your skin at first before Matthew bit down against your neck. The feeling of his teeth harshly marking your skin has you crying out, his hands wrapping around your wrists to pin them against the couch cushion. Matthew wasn’t exactly always thorough when marking you, but he definitely left enough marks to get the point across. His need to mark you up came sparingly, but the sessions would always leave you needy and ready for more.

This time though, he was practically biting your neck, following the feeling of his teeth with harsh sucks, like he wanted the marks to appear right away and be dark just as fast. “Matt…” you breathe, legs wrapping around his middle as he continues sucking your neck. His lips trail down to where your collarbones are exposed because of the loose t-shirt you’re wearing. At this spot, the sensation of his teeth grazing against your skin is heightened, and it has you whining and arching your body up to his.

His grip on your wrists tightens. “Stay still.”

You never thought leaving hickies could be rough, but here you were–Matthew biting down against your skin to make his marks on you as deep as possible. It's probably so they would show longer. Because as much as he loved to mark you up, he knew how sensitive you could get if he was doing it every night. A particularly harsh bite has you yelping. Matthew pulls away instantly, eyes searching your face in concern. “You okay?” You don’t respond for a moment, eyes half lidded. Then, something clicks in Matthew’s mind. “Aw, you like it when I’m rough, don’t you?”

ㅤ ⎯⎯ㅤ 𝓣aerae ﹙𝓴.﹚ㅤ

It was rare for Taerae to get jealous. It was something you adored about your relationship: you both felt confident in each other and knew that the other would never do anything to hurt you. That couldn’t be said about those surrounding you, though.

Sat silently in the passenger's seat of Taerae’s car, you watch as his knuckles tighten around the wheel. Seeing one of the workers at the coffee shop flirt with you wasn’t the way he wanted to end his day, especially when the other man just didn’t seem to pick up on any of the hints you were dropping that you were very much already taken.

“It’s not your fault,” Taerae says softly when he sees you glance over at him for the hundredth time. “I’m not mad at you.”

“I know,” you sigh. You were honestly probably as annoyed as he was. “I really thought saying outright that you were my boyfriend would make things clear.” Taerae can’t help but smile a little at your words as he turns the car into the parking lot of your apartment complex. He keeps the car running as he puts the car in park before looking over to you.

“I can think of a few ways to fix that.”

Taerae maneuvers you to straddle him in the driver’s seat, his hand finding your hips as his lips trail firmly up your neck. A soft kiss is placed on your jaw, then your lips, before he returns to your neck. He has his unmistakable confidence in his movements as he sucks marks onto your skin, his tongue running over your skin in a way that has you squirming on his lap. Taerae focuses on one spot, one that’s visible, one that’s particularly sensitive for you, to leave the largest mark.

He uses the size of his mouth to his advantage, not wanting anyone to miss the fact that you’ve so clearly been marked. That you’re his.

A few more marks are scattered across the column of your throat, but the hickey he’d spent most of his attention on is impossible for Taerae to pull his eyes away from. “There we go… Nothing to worry about now.” There’s a warmth that’s settled in your belly, and it’s only one that Taerae can fulfill. It has you both rushing out of your car and back up to your apartment, not caring about the strange looks you get from the other people in the lobby.

ㅤ ⎯⎯ㅤ 𝓡icky ﹙𝓼.﹚ㅤ

You loved kissing Ricky. How soft and comforting it was, especially when you were cuddled up in his bed. The atmosphere was the epitome of calm, his scent wrapping around you in the same way his arms were, the warmth of the blankets making you limp and drowsy. His mouth captures yours in an almost tender way. For a moment, it’s just your lips pressing against his before his tongue runs along the seam of your lips, requesting entrance. When you part your lips, Ricky takes his time to deepen the kiss.

His tongue slides against yours slowly before he pulls back just enough to break the kiss, his nose brushing against yours. He can’t help but get a little shy at the way you look at him before leaning in to kiss him again. The movements are slow, like the sleepiness the two of you are feeling, but are full of love. When Ricky abruptly separates your lips, you feel a bit confused.

“Can I, um… kiss your neck?” The urge to coo over how cute he’s being is hard to resist.

“Kiss my neck? You don’t have to ask to do that.” By the way Ricky avoids your eyes for a moment, you can tell that he’s hesitating to tell you something. “What do you want, Ricky?”

“Want to give you hickies,” he mumbles, and the shy admission makes you feel warm. “Please.”

You giggle softly as you nod, “Knock yourself out.”

Ricky tucks his face in your neck, his kisses light and barely there, feeling like butterfly wings. And then, when he finally begins sucking on your skin, the gentle pressure is enough to have that warmth you were feeling pooling in your belly. His hands aren’t harsh as he holds you, more loving, like he’s reassuring himself that you’re there and this is real. You whimper softly when his lips find a particularly sensitive spot.

“There?” he asks breathlessly, and you can only let out a small hum in response. It doesn’t take him long to go back to marking you up, gentle as always with how he handles you. Ricky’s always careful with you, and the small marks he leaves on your neck show that. None of them are too large or too deep, just enough to be visible. Ricky didn’t like drawing attention to the two of you, wanting to keep you to himself, so the marks he leaves on you are there for just yours and his eyes.

He pulls away, settling back into bed. “Wanna do me now?”

ㅤ ⎯⎯ㅤ 𝓖yuvin ﹙𝓴.﹚

When Gyuvin got jealous, he wouldn’t get angry or possessive like some of the other guys you’ve been with. Instead, he gets pouty. And part of you feels sad at the sight, but the other part of you can’t help but find it adorable. Gyuvin’s arms wrap tightly around your middle, and he rests his chin on your shoulder as you waddle around the kitchen with him. As you’re filling up your water bottle, your boyfriend finally speaks up, “You love me, right?”

Your heart breaks a little at his question. “I love you more than anyone,” you say softly to him, turning your head so his fluffy hair presses against your cheek. “You’re everything I need. Don’t even know what that other guy was thinking when I was literally clinging to you.” You feel Gyuvin’s pout turn into a smile against your shoulder. “Don’t be sad, ‘kay? I love you.”

“I love you too,” Gyuvin sighs, and you can feel all of the tension leave his body as he holds onto you. You finish filling your water bottle up and the two of you head back to your bedroom. Gyuvin climbs into bed first before opening his arms for you. You place your water bottle on the bedside table and practically fall into his arms, only to be met with several kisses on the top of your head.

“You know what would make you feel even better?” you ask him, looking up at his wide, brown eyes. “Wanna mark up my neck?”

A light blush covers his cheeks as a sly smile spreads on his lips. “Really?” The excited tone of his voice has you laughing as you nod. Gyuvin’s grin gets bigger as his large hands hold onto your hips, rolling over so you’re underneath him. “God, I love you…” he trails off as his lips meet where your neck meets your shoulder.

His touches are eager and loving. His kisses trail up your neck before Gyuvin settles on a spot to leave the first hickey. Strong arms encircle your waist, holding you tightly against him as he sucks on your neck, like he’s afraid you’re going to disappear. Reassuringly, your arms wrap around his shoulders as Gyuvin continues leaving marks on your skin. The idea of marking up your body has any insecurity or sadness fading from Gyuvin’s mind instantly, knowing that you’re so willing to let him have you like this enough to reassure him.

Slowly, his lips travel back down your neck, pecking each of the marks he’d left before he continues traveling down your body. “Need to kiss one more place before I fully feel better,” he whispers against your shirt as his fingers hook in the waistband of your pajama pants.

ㅤ ⎯⎯ㅤ 𝓖unwook ﹙𝓹.﹚

Gunwook’s extra tired when he arrives at your apartment tonight. His feet drag as he follows you around your apartment while you prepare for bed, his eyes drooping. But he refuses to go to sleep without you. You feel bad at the way he’s almost in a daze as you make sure the door and windows to your apartment are locked, with the way he clings to you as you go through your nighttime routine, and with the way he flops down in your bed the moment you finish your skincare.

“Let me hold you,” he mumbles, his voice soft yet rough at the same time. And who are you to deny that? You turn off the majority of the lights in your bedroom, leaving the bedside table lamp on to cast a dim, warm glow around the room. Then, you climb into Gunwook’s arms.

“You’ve been so sleepy recently,” you say gently, one of your hands going up to run your fingers through his hair in a soothing manner. “Feeling relaxed?” Gunwook hums as he tucks his face into your neck. His soft breathing against your skin is enough to make you feel as sleepy as him too.

The two of you are quick to fall into the purest state of lovers: vulnerable and completely at ease with each other, your bodies melding together. Instead of feeling turned on when he begins to kiss your neck like you usually do, the sensation just makes you soften even more between his warm body and the bed. Gunwook’s kisses are sloppy against your neck, like he’s too desperate for just even a taste of you, as he sucks on your skin. He doesn’t use his teeth on you, just his tongue presses against the column of your neck as he enjoys your taste. Gunwook’s mind barely registers that he’s leaving several marks on you, just that you’re here in his arms. And all he wants to do when you’re in his arms is love on you.

“Taste so good,” Gunwook mumbles tiredly, his hands kneading against your waist.

Your hands trail up to his hair, tangling comfortingly in the strands again. “You’re probably eating my lotion.” Gunwook chuckles, and you squirm at how it tickles.

“Don’t care. Get to kiss you, that’s all that matters.” You hum at his words, hands moving from his hair and down his back. “Feel very relaxed now.” “Yeah? Me too,” you agree, body lax in his arms. His weight settles on you a bit heavier as he looks at your neck. “Looks good?” Gunwook presses one more peck to your skin before he cuddles back into you, his eyes falling shut. “Looks perfect.”

363 notes · View notes

revelboo · 6 months ago

Note

AAAH!! I wasn't expecting you to actually do a story for Rumble 😭 I squealed when I saw it on my timeline 💙 thank you so much and every blessing upon ye, I hope your crops are flourishing, skin is clear etc. etc.

🤣 18+ content 🌶️

Alcohol Eyes Pt 2

IDW Rumble x Reader

• Almost groaning when the little human leans back to put some space between them, his servos flex against soft skin, wanting to pull you back to him. Wanting more as he drops his head against the crook of your neck, mouth finding and chasing the quick beat of your pulse. Hearing that husky laugh of yours that runs electric through him to wind him tight as his palms slide over your soft body. Why had he been so against coming here? He loves it here, loves the noise and press of bodies. Especially yours as he does drag you back to him. “Maybe we can make this a private party?” You ask and he’s not entirely sure what you mean by that, but he’s hoping his guess is right.

• Your stranger’s mouth is on your neck, his lips branding heat over your skin, feeling the barest slip of teeth threatening to nip sending need shivering through you. Forget taking him home as your blood heats. You want this. Pulling away makes him make a low noise that’s almost a growl of protest as you grip his hand and tug him along with you. Half your attention on keeping an eye out for your ex to avoid a fight as you lead your new friend toward the back storage room. You’d worked in the club right out of high school and knew no one ever bothered to lock that door, and you thank every deity you can think of when you find it still unlocked now. It’s darker in here the one bulb hanging from a bare socket doing little to chase away the shadows as you turn to lock the door behind you both.

• Reaching as soon as the lock clicks, Rumble pulls you back into him, servos sliding over you. Venting roughly against your throat, as you reach back to loop an arm around his neck. “Slow down, I’m not going anywhere,” you say, reaching back your other hand to run warm fingers over his thigh. “You want to take off the costume?”

• “No,” he growls, his own hand sliding down your belly, exploring with hesitant touches along the waist band of your jeans. “No.” The word is more insistent, almost desperate when you catch his wrist, like he thinks you’re about to stop him. Shuddering against your back when you guide his hand down the front of your clothes, showing him where you need him.

• Venting raggedly, he cups slick, warm flesh and finds your core to slip a servo inside, feeling the way your heat grips him. “That’s good,” you whisper, leaning your upper body across a container, thighs spreading to give him more access to stroke deeper, his spike aching to be freed. Pulling his hand free to try and figure out how to undo your coverings has you laughing again, the sound stroking over him. “No chill at all, huh?” Shifting to undo that little button and push your pants down. No, he doesn’t have any chill or restraint, wanting this. Needing it as he nudges you back down on your front over the container, freeing his spike to grip himself and slide his length against your slickness. “Wait, my purse. I think I have some-“ you’re saying as he finds you and buries himself inside that wet, welcoming heat that fists his spike, hearing you moan. “Never mind.”

• So much for condoms, but as he rocks his hips, that thick length stroking slowly inside you, there’s no worrying about anything beyond him moving. “Frag, you’re tight,” he snarls, that rough accent you can’t quite place right in your ear as his big hands tighten on your hips to the point you know there’ll be bruising, but he’s still not moving, so you do, rocking as much as you can with your hips up.

• You move against him, pushing yourself back and then he’s thrusting into that wet heat despite wanting to savor the feel of you wrapped around him, that sense of connection he’d been sure he’d never have because of his size, because of his modifications. You’re so small under him as he ruts against you, using his grip on your hips to pull you back to meet the urgent drive of his hips. Hearing the wet sounds of your body taking him and your low, needy sounds that are only for him, because this? It’s his. You’re his.

• He’s not holding back, hips slapping against you, moving hard and deliciously fast. And he is growling, hands flexing on your hips as his frantic thrusts drive you to that peak, then over as he drapes himself against your back with a deep drive of his hips, his mouth against the back of your shoulder, his hips moving in sharp, shallow thrusts as he releases and you tighten on the thick length of him inside you, milking him. “Rumble,” he groans against your skin, hips still moving in shallow, lazy thrusts and you can feel his excess on your inner thigh.

• You lay your cheek on your outstretched arm, head turning to look back at him from the corner of your eye. Smiling when he hesitantly reaches to slide sweat slick hair back from your temple, the intimate gesture stealing your breath for a moment. “Hi, Rumble,” you murmur, laughing softly when he presses himself tighter against you, sheathing himself deep and savoring it as his spark twists with a hunger that’s new and consuming. He’d never really paid much attention to organics before aside from Starscream’s and they were more like a particularly helpless sibling needing protecting. Nothing like this.

• He hasn’t taken off any of his costume except what he’d needed to free himself to fuck you. It’s weird, but not a deal breaker. Not with the lazy way your thighs are trembling or how he’d felt, still feels, inside you. “Can we go again?” He asks so earnestly, so hopefully, and you rock yourself against him in answer. Because while you’d only wanted a quickie to thank him, you’re wondering, praying, he’s single. Because the almost reverent way his big hands slide against your skin, the press of his mouth against your spine in a hungry kiss? This guy’s going to ruin you.

#transformers x reader #rumble x reader #idw rumble

323 notes · View notes

neocores · 9 months ago

Text

OK sth I really, really love about fields of mistria is how accessible it is for an adhd hoarder that also forgets everything and what I was doing in like 5 minutes, like myself

the map has npc locations by default! so even if their schedule changes, you can always find them!

quests never expire! you can work on them at your own pace, and even hold onto one's that require a seasonal item that you didn't have enough of before the season was up, until the season rolls around again!

they don't take your damn money or items when you pass out or die because you lost track of time or are bad at combat!

there's free soup in the tavern that restores a little stamina, and a fountain behind a breakable boulder that does the same! the baths are also pretty cheap, and you even get a few free usages after a certain quest!

it starts with storage in your house, AND! anything you had in said storage can be used for crafting without having to go and retrieve it!

if you don't know where to get an item for a quest, talking to various npcs can tell you where it is!

if you need a certain item for the museum collection, you can check out hints on where to get those in the museum itself! and every item that can go in the museum has a tooltip when you over over it, to tell you if you have already donated it or not!

items don't despawn! you can just toss stuff on the floor and come back for it later when you have the inventory space!

if you forget to check your calendar, that's fine! the npcs will tell you about any upcoming events a few times before it arrives, and the start of a new day will tell you if it's someone's birthday!

they give you tutorials in a narrative way, gradually introducing new systems and mechanics as you progress! and these are done via quests that you can go and complete whenever you're ready!

the village progression gives you plenty of rewards and things to help you with your farm, which is very encouraging to keep at it!

the upgrade system just builds up along with doing normal tasks like farming! and you can spend these points however, whenever you like, with many being available right from the start! and you can have all of them if you want, so no need to worry about indecision!

you can go to your diary at home and save whenever you like, and even make another one so you can place them in other areas!

little heart notifications pop up over npc's heads when you progress the relationship, so you have a quick reference on how close you are!

every friday (and saturday after you fix the bridge), all the npcs are in the same place! this makes chatting to everyone and handing out gifts easier if you have trouble remembering to do so!

you have to hold down the button to eat an item! so you don't accidentally poison yourself!

other accessibility options ive really been appreciative of are: being able to turn off rain/snowfall, flashing, screenshake ect. for those with sensitivity, sight, or neurological issues that don't play well with those.

#fields of mistria

455 notes · View notes

eternlmoonshine · 2 months ago

Text

compromising positions ❥ jennifer jareau

summary: a stolen, passionate moment with jj takes a mortifying turn when someone walks in on you two. pairing: jennifer 'jj' jareau x f!reader warnings: making out? wc: 1k masterlist.

It started with a simple look.

A quick, fleeting glance from across the bullpen– her blue eyes locking with yours, heavy with intent.

And you knew exactly what it meant.

JJ had just gotten back from a gruelling, week-long case, and she had barely gotten the chance to breathe, let alone see you. And now that she was here, standing mere feet away from you, she looked like she needed you.

And you?

You needed her just as much.

So when she brushed past you on the way out of the bullpen, her fingers just barely grazing yours- a whisper of contact that sent electricity down your spine- you followed without hesitation.

⊱ ───────── {⋅. ✯ .⋅} ───────── ⊰

The storage closet she picked wasn’t exactly romantic.

It smelled faintly of paper and printer ink, the overhead light flickered incessantly, and there were more file boxes than either of you could count.

And yet, none of it seemed to matter at all.

Because right now…

Jennifer Jareau’s hands were tangled in your hair, her lips were hot and desperate against yours, and the feeling of her body pressed against yours had completely and utterly obliterated every rational thought in your head that was telling you that doing this right here, right now, was a bad idea.

The moment the door had clicked shut behind you, JJ pounced.

Her hands had grabbed the lapels of your blazer, pulling you into a searing kiss.

You barely had time to gasp before her tongue swept into your open mouth, and you melted against her, hands tangling in her hair.

“Jesus, JJ,” you murmured against her lips, but she only hummed distractedly in response as her flingers slipped beneath your blouse and trailed up the curve of your waist.

Her touch was fire- soft but insistent, nails scraping lightly along your skin and leaving goosebumps in their wake.

You couldn’t even catch your breath long enough to form words before she was already kissing down your jaw, sucking lightly at the sensitive skin just below your ear.

A quiet whimper escaped your lips before you could stop it, and JJ chuckled, her breath fanning warm against your skin.

“Missed you,” she breathed teasingly, pressing open-mouthed kisses down your neck.

You tilted your head, giving her more access as a shiver ran down your spine. “I can tell.”

She smirked against your skin before biting down, just hard enough to make your knees go weak as you leaned into her embrace.

Your grip on her tightened. “Jennifer.”

She exhaled, pressing her body flush against yours. “Say it again.”

Her hands slid down lower, fingers lightly teasing at the waistband of your pants, her lips still attached to your neck.

You let out a soft moan, arching into her touch, and she groaned, nipping at your collarbone.

“God, I love when you make that sound,” she murmured.

Your head was spinning.

JJ had always been good at this- at completely ruining you with nothing but her mouth, her teasing hands and her voice.

And right now, she had you at her mercy.

Your fingers fisted into her shirt as you switched positions, turning around to press her back against the metal shelves as your lips found hers again in a kiss that was all heat and hunger.

She moaned into your mouth, gripping your hips tightly and pulling you closer- like she couldn’t stand even an inch of space between the two of you.

Her hands roamed everywhere- greedy and impatient- and you let out a soft gasp when she dragged her nails down your back, pressing into the fabric of your blouse.

“JJ,” you breathed, your forehead pressed against hers.

Her lips curled into a teasing smile. “What, baby?”

You exhaled sharply. “You’re so cocky.”

She chuckled, kissing the corner of your mouth. “You love it.”

And, well… she wasn’t wrong.

Her lips met your again and you lost yourself in her.

Which is probably why neither of you heard the door open.

Or the sharp intake of breath.

Until-

“OH, HELL NO-”

You both froze.

Your heart stopped.

And then, slowly, so slowly, you turned your head.

Standing in the doorway, looking downright horrified, was none other than Derek Morgan.

His eyes were wide, mouth open in pure disbelief as he lifted his hands as if her was trying to physically erase what he had just seen,

“I DIDN’T SEE NOTHING!”

You and JJ scrambled apart, breathless, shirts wrinkled and lips swollen- as if that could somehow undo everything.

“Derek,” JJ started, running a hand through her hair in a poor attempt to make it seem presentable. “I- uh- this isn’t-”

“Oh, no.” Derek shook his head violently, taking a step back. “I refuse to process whatever the hell this is.”

You felt like your face was on fire. “Oh my God.”

JJ sighed, attempting to compose herself. “Derek, it’s-”

“Nope. Nuh uh.” Derek pointed at both of you. “Y’all are grown ass adults. I don’t care what you do.”

JJ narrowed her eyes. “Then… why do you look like you’re about to have an aneurysm.”

The man threw his hands up in frustration. “Because I DID NOT NEED TO SEE THAT!”

You groaned, covering your face. “Derek-”

“NAH.” He took another step back. “Y’all are nasty.”

JJ smirked, tilting her head slightly. “You sure you’re not just jealous.”

Derek sputtered. “I- I AM LEAVING.”

With that, he spun on his heel and bolted, the door slamming shut behind him and leaving you and JJ in stunned silence.

Then JJ turned to you, biting her lip, and then burst into laughter.

You groaned in mock annoyance as you buried your face in her shoulder. “This is the worst day of my life.”

“At least now we know never to use the storage closet again,” she chuckled, pressing a kiss to your temple.

You lifted your head. “Are you kidding? Now we definitely have to.” “You’re terrible,” she laughed, shaking her head.

You grinned, tugging her back in by the waist. “Yeah,” you murmured softly, brushing your lips against hers. “But you love it.”

JJ smiled. “Yeah,” she whispered. “I really do.”

#jennifer jareau ✧#jennifer jj jareau #jennifer jareau #jj x reader #jj x you #jj x y/n #jennifer jareau x reader #jennifer jareau x you #jennifer jareau fanfiction #cm #criminal minds #criminal minds fandom #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fanfiction#my writing ✧#jennifer jareau fluff

243 notes · View notes

uchispeach · 3 months ago

Text

Tyrant (One-shot)

Dark! Topper Thornton x Fem! Reader

Warnings: DUB-CON / NON-CON, dacryphilia, manhandling, size kink, jealousy, controlling & manipulative behavior, toxic relationship, deep rooted classism…

A/N: For the plot’s sake, let’s just pretend Sarah doesn’t exist…

“Hurricane Agatha continues its steady march towards Kildare Island on the Outer Banks of North Carolina…” The journalist’s monotone voice didn’t entertain your mind for much longer, as the only thing you had seen plastered on the news for days were warnings and recommendations dedicated to your community.

Every paradise had its flaws, and the lack of functioning generators was the only downside to your dad’s 200 year old mansion. So when Agatha came, she did not only take down your step mother’s luxurious outdoor decor and furniture, but also any source of electricity you had ever taken advantage of.

Summer in Outer Banks was a synonym for fun and a deadly heat stroke if you didn’t have access to Air Conditioning. That’s why, you and Wheezie had claimed the 92 foot boat all to yourselves - a place to cool off and sleep without having to wake up to a puddle of sweat -.

“Fuck!” Loud cursing was accompanied by louder footsteps, the individual interrupting your sleep seemed to struggle with coordination as they bumped against everything in sight. “Wheezie, be quiet.” You said with your eyes closed, still half pulled in by unconsciousness.

The staggering figure slowed down, decreasing their disturbing presence to allow your sleep some peace. That didn’t last long though, as the strenuous noise of metal clanging completely woke you up. “God!” Your surprise was accompanied by a high pitched gasp.

“You’re not Wheezie,” the obvious was said. John B did not look even remotely similar to your little sister. “I’m sorry…” Was the first thing the blond pronounced, feeling caught as he held two heavy bags in his naked arms. “What are you doing?…Oh” Your eyes followed his, finding the lacy bralette exposed by your lifted T-shirt. You were quick to pull the fabric down, causing the Pogue to blush.

His rosy cheeks added to his flustered look, combined with the profuse sweat glistening over his entire body. “I’m sorry…” John’s messy hair covered half of his face as he stared down, suddenly interested on the teak floor. “Um…I’m just dropping off some scuba gear.” A tang of dizziness caused you to rub your forehead when sitting down.

“Did you..um…top up the tanks?” Your usually soft voice was polluted by some grogginess. The blond’s biceps flexed shamelessly at you. “No, power’s down, so the compressors were off.” His movements were made with clumsiness, showing the anxiety pumping through his veins.

Your head automatically tilted to the side, still searching for his hazel eyes. For some reason, watching him try to play it cool while failing so miserably had him looking really cute in your eyes. “So, you’re sneaking into Ward’s boat at 5 a.m. with empty tanks…I’ll make sure to tell him.” You got exactly what you were looking for; the boy looked like a fish caught in a hook as he peeled his eyes at you.

“I, I- will just drop this off and-” His light stutter made you chuckle. Without much thought, you walked to his side -closing the distance between both of you with a playful glint on your eyes-. “Let me help you…” He continued to look shocked, remaining frozen when you took one bag from him.

It was not until you both reached the storage room when he finally spoke again: “Hey,” His skin was hot against yours when his big palm gripped your shoulder. “please don’t tell your dad.” You didn’t remember him being so tall.

A messy hair strand fell over his soft features as he towered you against a closed door. “I did borrow your stuff…but-but I brought it back.” You blinked innocently at him, hearing him beg was an unusual sound for your ears. “Intact and unharmed.” He remarked in a quiet tone, going down your eye level.

You hummed in response, pretending to think while biting your lower lip. “All right!” Your shoulders lifted in agreement. And John B gave you a small pat while exhaling in relaxation. “I could be a lot of things but I’m not a snitch.” The whisper was lighthearted -reaching his ears with sweetness-.

Your proximity allowed his warm breath to tickle your lips. “Now, leave. Before I regret helping you poach.” The blond blinked at you as you backed away, making your way back to the boat’s outer part. “Yeah, bye.” His short legs were quick to outpace you, quickly getting him out of the room and onto his jet sky. You only giggled at his velocity.

“Well, I’ll see you around.” You leaned on the boat’s edge, watching him start the engine. “Later” He waved with a half smirk decorating his tanned face. “Later” You repeated to yourself, admiring the speed in which he disappeared between the waves.

Tiredly, you got back to your old position. Your eyes closed in complete calmness, totally oblivious to the nosy girl hiding behind the stairs.

(…)

All the sleep you had gotten on The Druthers had barely prepared you for the exhausting list of chores Ward had put you on as soon as he saw you were awake. “Dad, do we really have to finish the whole yard today?” The black plastic bag was starting to make your right arm go sore from its weight.

The family man only lifted his gloved hand as he continued attending his business call. “Yes, just wait a second.” He said while covering the phone’s speaker. “Sweetheart, you haven’t even filled a whole bag.” You looked down at your own gloved hands, specks of trash decorating the red plastic.

“I’ll finish tomorrow…” You were quick to promise, putting both palms together in a polite plea. “Please,” you made sure to drag the last vowel. “All right, baby girl.” Your father shook his head in defeat, finally dismissing you from a long morning of picking up garbage.

“Thank you!” You expressed your gratitude with effusiveness, quickly abandoning the cleaner’s garments to roam free around the property.

Sun shone comfortably on your skin, and you couldn’t help but feel enthusiastic about the warm weather, very contrasting to the last few days of intense storms and disaster. In the distance, you saw a pair of familiar faces.

Your boyfriend looked slightly annoyed, furrowing his brows together as Wheezy spoke to him. “It was almost like she was flirting with him.” You heard your little sister say, as you neared her grumpy self from behind.

“What’s up, guys?” The black haired jumped slightly when your arms wrapped around her waist. Even under Wheezie’s thick glasses, you could still notice her eyes turning upwards in adolescent irritation. “Hi, top.” Your plump lips stretched on a warm smile at Topper’s handsome presence.

The blond didn’t react at your appearance, a distant grimace in his normally sweet features. Slowly, you pulled away from the girl. Closing the gap between your lover and you to give him a quick peck.

The sound of your lips colliding had your sister grunting in disgust. “Whatever, I’m leaving…” Her small legs took her away, leaving the two of you completely alone.

Affectionately, your arms wrapped around his strong neck. Eyelashes fluttering up at him in a loving stare, “is something wrong?” A stoic look was the only response you got.

Topper was a moody person, often altered by small details and irrelevant interactions. Still, you always made an effort to cheer him up, even in his darkest days.

“C’mon, babe. It’s such a pretty day.” You closed your eyes while whispering on his face, warm breath brushing against his mouth. You kissed him once again, looking to intensify the sensation by grabbing his jaw.

He tensed under your touch, only giving in when your tongue fought to be let in. After a few seconds, he gave in, holding you by the waist as his rough fingers brought you impossibly closer to his toned chest.

The grunt he let out while you threaded your small digits through his hair was animalistic, barely buried by the wet noises your soaked muscles made. One of his palms was already sneaking down your lower back and onto your ass when a strenuous interruption made you stop.

A line of spit kept you connected as you both looked around for the noise’s source. A lawnmower passed right next to you, being obnoxiously loud. The blond pogue smirked playfully, toothpick being toyed around in his snarky mouth.

“Sorry, lovebirds…but I gotta’ do my job.” JJ stood shirtless, gripping the machine like a weapon. You threw him an uncomfortable look, completely pulling away from your boyfriend while adjusting your lifted up top.

The Thornton boy gave him a disapproving look, holding his own waist like a father would do when scolding his kid: “Then get back to it, before I get you fired.” The shorter boy opened his mouth in fake surprise, clearly enjoying the Kook’s angry display.

“All right” The tanned young man raised his arms in a peace sign, moving on with his task. “Tch. Fucking asshole” Your lower lip suffered at your own teeth’s attack, a painful manner of liberating the stress. “Hey, it’s okay.” Topper’s body went stiff under your touch, muscles flexed while he puffed his chest out.

“C’mon, let’s just go inside.” Your fingers weren’t able to go around his huge bicep, still, you tried to get him in the house. The blond mumbled a few curses before finally following your way.

(…)

Your giggles were carried away by the salty breeze. Both of your arms were extended as you carefully walked on the roof’s clay tiles. Each step was taken with a hint of confidence, showing your past experience with this particular spot. “Fuck. Slow down!” Topper was still struggling to take his legs over the window, long calves barely fitting in the wood frame.

“Don’t be scared, I got you.” You took a seat on the sunny ramp, shorts going over your thighs as your skin went in contact with the roof’s warm material. The Kook’s hand-sewn leather shoes weren’t particularly made for climbing up irregular surfaces, and the way in which he wobbled with each move made it clear. “Here!” Your small palm reached out for his, finally impulsing the blond to sit besides you.

“Shit, Y/N” His strong thigh brushed against yours as he shook his head in disagreement. “What?” His tone was aggressive, complementing the sharp look he gave you when a small smile appeared on your face. “Nothing…just admire the view.” The finger pointing at the calm coast was as enthusiastic as you.

Your boyfriend listened, remaining serious while staring at the gentle waves. A sense of comfort washed over you, your hugged knees against your chest and a gentle hand looking for your companion’s touch.

The Thornton boy tensed his jaw when your fingers finally reached for his, nonchalant to the loving grip caressing his harsh knuckles.

You ignored his rough mood, concentrating on the shiny water and graceful sand; noons like this would always be encrypted in your brain - a reminder of how beautiful life could be in the island -. Your small worries were starting to drift away, a soft sigh proving your carefree state. In contrast, Topper was ready to let his concerns out.

When the blond spilled, he stained everyone around him - his morals and rules too stiff to be bent by any one -. A heavy exhalation announcing the arrival of a new conflict, his palms turned into a fist - taking your delicate digits with it -.

“Hey, uh…” His voice went deeper and his stare turned firm when burning into you. “I heard you had a Pogue sneaking’ around here.” The lighthearted smirk you once wore, dissolved into a scowl. “Who-” You had to swallow before continuing: “Who told you that?” Your lashes fluttered once again, but this time in nervousness.

“That doesn’t matter,” And just like that, the sun seemed to hide, allowing a somber shade to pose itself over the blond. Your throat went dry as he opened his sharp mouth once again: “You gotta be careful.” His head tilted slightly to the side, making his recommendation sound much more intimidating.

“These Pogues…” In shock, you slipped your fingers away from him. “They are all lowlifes, criminals…” You couldn’t believe his words, going as far as backing a few centimeters away from his indignation.

“Don’t-” Words got stuck in your tongue as the Kook continued to invade your personal space with an unnerving gaze. “That’s mean, you don’t know them.” Your statement wasn’t as rigid as his, lacking strength when being said by such a quiet tone.

“Why are you defending them?” His sudden change in position had you flinching. The blond tapped the side of his forehead with aggressiveness, signaling his own brain in hopes of getting into yours. “I’m sorry… yeah Y/N, I’m sorry for caring about you.” His whole burly body trembled in frustration.

“Top, it’s not like that.” Your eyes started to sting, a couple of tears struggling to be kept. “My dad was a Pogue too, you can’t-” He didn’t even let you finish, a sour chuckle leaving his rosy lips. “Stop, fucking stop. I’m just worried for-” It was hard to believe him when he spoke such mean words, a gasp was quick to interrupt him - you were desperate to show how ridiculous he was starting to sound -.

“John B works here, do you expect me to spit on his face every time I see him?” Automatically, your legs stretched out - ready to run away from the uncomfortable scene -. “I’m sure he would fucking love that.” An ugly grin accompanied his sentence, followed by a humorless laugh.

In a split of a second, you were already on both feet. The Kook wasn’t slow to react, impulsing his much bigger body up. “You don’t get to leave!” The controlling soul of his demands were starting to overwhelm you.

The threat of a migraine was enough to get you moving, turning your back to him while stomping your way inside the home’s safety. You could feel the heat radiating from his enraged self, stalking you from close behind. “Hey, we’re talking!”

Impulsive, the situation slipping from his hands had him feeling impulsive. You must have seen it coming, you must have obeyed when being begged to stay, maybe he wouldn’t have found himself in the need to wrap his long fingers around your frail wrist.

Maybe if your stubbornness had not clouded your senses, he wouldn’t have had to pull you so violently towards him. Either way, nothing prepared you for the awful feeling of losing every sense of balance.

The joints between your legs had failed you, wobbling at the destabilizing pull and causing you to stumble with your own feet. Your first reaction was to grip onto Topper’s polo shirt but your sweaty hands ended up providing a weak grasp.

The scream leaving your vocal cords was one of pure terror, vocalizing the pain your bruised knees experienced while bumping against the roof’s merciless tiles. Your eyelids shut together in fear, expecting the rough fall.

“Shit!” Your limbs relaxed in relief when instead of a cold solid ground, you were received by your boyfriend’s strong arms. “I’m sorry…I’m fucking sorry.” His warmth, his lips on your forehead and the constant rubbing on your back were all too much too soon - leaving you deadly confused in his embrace -.

“It’s-” Your voice came out in choked complaints, a consequence of his brutish hug. “It’s okay…I’m okay.” You didn’t know the reason behind it, but the need to reassure the shaking blond was the utmost of your worries.

“I’m fine. I’m sorry too.” The wish for comfort installed in the pit of your stomach, forcing your puffy face to bury into his huge chest. Topper crushed you deeper into himself, painfully digging his chin into the top of your head. “It’s all right, sweetheart…It’s all right.” Funnily enough, you believed him - feeling ashamed of yourself for ever questioning his sincere ways -.

(…)

The ground you currently stood on vibrated from the obnoxious rap music blasted through Kelce’s expensive speakers. Even the bathroom’s mirror shook slightly, blurring your own reflection.

The pink bikini molded nicely against your curves, making you feel less unconscious about the skimpiness of it. You admired the cute bow poking between perky breasts, hoping the boy outside would love it as much as you did.

Your steps held a confidence to it, playful strides taking you to your boyfriend’s sight. “Wow…I’m dating the hottest girl in the OBX.” His eyes were immediately locked in your figure, completely disregarding the phone that had previously been in his hold. A big smile was plastered all over your pretty face, as you twirled around in a coquettish manner.

Topper’s legs sprawled wider, using his palms to support his beefy body. There wasn’t anything discreet about the way he bit into his lower lip, fixating on the plump flesh of your ass.

“You don’t look so bad yourself” Your voice was sultry, complementing the teasing way in which you bend over to his front’s level. The blond’s jaw tensed alongside his exposed biceps, showing the pent up desire provoked further by the perfect cleavage posed a few inches away.

“Fuck, c’mere” His voice went a tad deeper, making you melt. The strong hands gripping your hips weren’t patient at all, quickly pulling you onto his lap. Your gasp was quickly buried by a hungry kiss, your boyfriend’s tongue lacking shyness when exploring your sweetest spots.

A languid moan was squeezed against avid lips, his fingers groped one of your tits with caressing tips, making sure to pinch your nipple in exquisite pain. His other palm was busy creating friction on your lower back, moving up and down.

“Don’t you dare fuck on my mom’s brand new sheets!” Kelce’s unapologetic shouts were louder than his rude knocking. You could have sworn he was two seconds away from breaking the door with his brutish force. “Shit!” Topper groaned in exasperation, hand abandoning your warm skin to pat the growing tent poking under his shorts.

“Of course not!” You acted almost offended at the lascivious assumption, quickly leaving your boyfriend’s loving embrace to run to the closest mirror.

It took you a few seconds to make yourself look presentable again, having to wipe the remains of running lipgloss mixed with spit from your face. “Hey” You felt a familiar breath fanning the top of your head. “Yes, baby?” His big and strong chest left no room to escape as his mouth neared your ear. “I think it’s better if you just…cover yourself up a little.”

You didn’t know if it was the light rubbing of his pink lips on your earlobe, his flexed arm wrapping delicately around your waist or the subjugating tone of his voice, but you didn’t hesitate twice before taking the oversized T-shirt from his grasp.

(…)

The evening breeze brushed comfortably against your naked legs. A lighthearted giggle left your soft lips, good mood propelled by the fluent conversation going around your friend group.

You had lost Topper a few minutes ago, seeing him getting dragged by a drunk Kelce and your energetic brother. You didn’t mind though, quickly finding your own circle to catch up.

A pair of girls found entertainment while looking over your shoulder, completely disregarding your own presence. It felt strange, looking at the playful stares coming from your friends. You weren’t late to find out the reason, a shriek full of horror and surprise abandoning your throat when you were suspended on the air.

Your feet weren’t touching the ground anymore, instead supported by a tanned arm. “Topper, you maniac!” His exposed chest rumbled on a deep chuckle, enjoying your desperate wriggling.

“You’re looking kinda’ dry” He eyed you up and down, lips morphing into a dangerous grin. “No!” The way you shook your head in desperation was cute, fueling your boyfriend’s playfulness.

Effortlessly, he took arrogant steps towards the big pool, causing you to tighten the hold around his shoulders. People’s cheers and screams were quickly drowned by the cool water.

You barely got to close your mouth at the abrupt fall, quickly grounding yourself on the shallowest part to stick your head out. Light coughs alerted Topper as he rapidly approached you. “Baby, you’re fine! You’re fine!” The blond said as his long fingers squished your cheeks together.

Wet strands of hair blocked your sight, and you were quick to hit at his hard rock chest with annoyment. “I hate you!” Topper couldn’t take you seriously, staring at the way you struggled to accommodate the unruly hair behind your ears.

“No, you don’t…” His tone held a cockiness to it, stupid smirk on his face before taking a peck at your lips. “…You love me!” A few of your friends mocked the sweet interaction, making you finally let go and enjoy the fun scene.

Your bodies floated together on an almost synchronized dance, his big palms long gone to support the softness of your ass in a possessive grip. “Hope you’re having fun.” He whispered softly in your ear, his honeyed tone causing you to hum in response.

Topper spinned you around while you crashed your chest with his. Your chin was supported by his shoulder, allowing you to look at the sweaty teenagers enjoying the messy environment. They all came and went, drinking and dancing carelessly. Still, one of them took you by surprise.

A lost John B looked around in confusion, his rebel blond hair and dirty boots making him stand out among the multitude of curated Kooks. His open shirt had an ugly pattern, taking away from the smooth torso hiding behind it. “Hi!” You jumped slightly on your boyfriend’s hold, sticking out your upper body in excitement.

Forgetful you were, that was for sure. And the realization hit you much after you effusively waved at the kind Pogue. John’s eyes softened at your presence, shyly nearing the pool’s edge. “Hi-” His voice became a whisper when Topper spinned you around once again, this time preventing you from further interaction with the shorter boy.

“This isn’t the Cut.” The Thornton’s voice lacked any sort of respect. Blocked by a pair of wide biceps, you could barely take a glimpse at a clearly uncomfortable John. “Top” You whispered softly while caressing his hot skin, looking for any sort of sympathy inside his arrogant self. “So, you better get lost before I get you kicked out.” Heat reached your face at the sudden threat, your anxiety peaking with the growing aggressiveness in the blond’s tone.

A dilemma clouded your brain, intensified by your boyfriend’s digits digging harshly into your flesh. You were about to speak out when the Pogue rolled his eyes in defeat, his dirty soles taking him away from the both of you. He was clearly pissed, and you could see it in the way he clenched his fists in frustration.

His back became smaller and smaller among the multitude, making you deflate in a tang of disappointment. A sour feeling installed in the pit of your stomach, making you fidget on the tight embrace.

Topper didn’t allow you space for thinking or breathing, quickly taking you by the jaw while licking your lower lip. He groaned at your hesitation, forcing you to follow an aggressive kiss.

(…)

The water clashed violently at the shore, creating a steady rhythm that reached your ears. The wet sand stimulated your toes with its welcoming feeling, tempting you to bury nose-deep into the soaked mass.

The small towel wrapped around your body did little to keep you warm, but you still held to it with intensity. Topper hadn’t stopped staring at you for the whole walk, burning holes into your side with his puzzling stare.

You stopped in your tracks, finally hearing the blasting music and hustle considerably far, stil, there was nothing much you could do about the blinding lights coming from the house - slightly distracting you from the organic view -.

“Right here!” You chirped with newfound excitement, expanding your towel on a dry spot. The long T-shirt had been long lost, leaving you half naked. Still, you laid comfortably on the absorbing fabric, extending your legs while supporting your weight with relaxed elbows.

The warm smile plastered on your face was very inviting, luring the blond to the same position as you. His muscles flexed at the effort, every feature of his being outlined by the moonlight.

Your eyelashes fluttered at your side, accepting the heat coming from his heavy body. Topper had been oddly quiet since the pool scene, making you feel a bit unbalanced.

In an effort of lighting his mood up, you pointed at the sky: “You see? Right there is the Big Dipper.” Your boyfriend didn’t give a verbal response, simply following your finger for the marvelous sight. “And then those stars…” The celestial bodies shined brightly. “… in the scoop point…” Your breathing slowed down when you felt his at the side of your neck.

“To the North Star-” Your explanation died down little by little when you felt a wet muscle licking down your jugular. It paralyzed you, the sounds of wet kisses traveling down your clavicle, where he sucked avidly in hopes of leaving some purple spotches. “Top” You called out for him at a particular hard suck.

Half-hearted whines falling deaf to the blond’s ears, who continued untying the back of your top. Your nipples were quick to react to the cool weather, further stimulated by your boyfriend’s passionate sucking.

His tongue lolled around the mounds of flesh, causing your fingers to tangle between his soft locks. Your brain felt mushy under his pawing, barely registering the new position you were subjected to.

Red, your chest was all red from his attack; still, he wasn’t satisfied - going down your abdomen until reaching your lower belly -. “Wanna show you who this belongs to.” You didn’t enjoy the raspiness in his voice, nor the aggressive way in which he tugged at the garment.

Your lower lip suffered under your teeth, a typical mannerism you had under stressful situations. “Wait, no.” The piece of fabric was already being ripped away from you when your legs reacted by themselves; accidentally kneeing him on the face while pulling away from his hold.

Instinctively, you crawled back. Watching him rub his jaw in a pained state.

Guilt, you felt guilt. There was no reason to not want to be intimate with him, it wasn’t a foreign concept in your relationship, still, you cringed away from his touch as he approached you once again.

Your rejection was unconscious, a quick reaction to what your body deemed as an invasion. “I-” A knot formed in your throat, preventing you from saying a thing as his eyes darkened.

The once soft features turned sharp, and he didn’t think twice before launching himself at you. “Topper, wait!” Patience left you, quickly replaced by the urgence of being set free.

His name sounded like a plea as you repeated it time and time again. You were taken by surprise when he manhandled you into all fours, locking an arm under your waist while pinning your upper body down on the sand.

His dressed erection poked at your core, roughly rubbing against it. Your boyfriend groaned, clearly clouded by lust as his selfish hands pulled the only thing that kept your cunt from him. You sobbed out a ‘please’ when his cold digits brushed against your slit, greedily entering one of them into the dry cave.

You could only sob when his thumb started circling your clit, pulling an involuntary moan from you. A finger quickly became three, and the squelches coming from your stretched hole weren’t fully drowned by the nearby waves.

The blond only responded with animalistic sounds, seemingly fueled by your fight. His finger thrusted harder into you, sending a wave of pleasure over your unwilling sex.

Panic started rising as you heard him pull out his cock, instantly holding you steady against the throbbing member. Your hand found itself pushing flat against his toned pelvis, doing your best to put some distance between both bodies.

The Thornton boy shushed you in response, gently pulling away your palm. “Don’t cry…” You wailed inconsolably, your salty tears hitting the salty ground. “…I just wanna make you feel good.” A flinch was all he received when pinning both of your arms in one hand.

Your movements were completely restricted, leaving you at his complete mercy. With soft fingertips, he pushed your hair to the side, leaving an open field to lay down kisses.

His lips were gentle with your nape, alongside the reassurance pronounced by them. So contrasting to the mean tip entering your sex.

His pace was tortuously slow, making you feel every vein on his thick shaft while praising the wetness and warmth he was received with. “This pussy is all mine...” Bliss was all you could hear in him, gaining the confidence to grind harder against your ass.

“… no Pogue can change that.” And as the tip of his long cock bruised your cervix, you couldn’t help but cry a little louder.

#dark fanfiction #dark content #tw dark content #dark fic #dark obx #dark! topper #dark topper thornton #obx smut #obx x reader #obx x you #obx fanfiction #topper thornton #topper outer banks #topper obx #topper thornton x reader #topper x reader #tw dacryphilia #tw. noncon #tw. dubcon

199 notes · View notes

historyofguns · 9 days ago

Link

The article from "The Armory Life," written by Dylan Casey, reviews the Vertx RLT 50L Duffel Bag. The author highlights how the bag is ideal for travel and outdoor adventures because of its spacious 50-liter capacity, durable construction, and versatile carrying options. The bag features PU-coated ripstop fabric that provides water resistance and increased durability, making it suitable for unpredictable environments. Its aesthetically subtle design avoids the conspicuousness often associated with tactical gear, appealing to those who prefer a low-profile appearance. The review appreciates the bag's compatibility with airplane overhead compartments and its multiple carrying options, including backpack straps and side handles. The Vertx RLT 50L Duffel Bag is lauded as a practical choice for various travel and outdoor needs, maintaining utility whether for business or leisure pursuits. Casey endorses it as a worthy companion for different missions, embracing its design to seamlessly integrate into everyday travel while remaining robust enough for the "road less traveled."

#Vertx RLT backpack #Vertx RLT 50L #tactical backpack #load-carrying gear #design features #storage capacity #durable materials #modular organization #outdoor gear #MOLLE webbing #military and law enforcement use #hiking and travel use #comfort and functionality #shoulder straps #padded back panel #quick-access compartments #water-resistant fabric #YKK zippers.

0 notes

mikanotes · 1 year ago

Text

lost in translation ft. eunhyuk x gn!reader 4.4k words

genre: angst comfort, ‘enemies’ to possibly lovers warnings: deaths, injuries, blood, mentions of kissing and also suicide (?), smoking, cursing, canon divergence idr half of s1, guns, slightly suggestive at the end author’s note: this was requested! i kinda strayed off the original request sorry TT it got a bit angstier than it should’ve but oh well! have this i missed him

summary: The development of your feelings for Lee Eunhyuk in the middle of an apocalypse, and struggles of leadership.

Green Home Apartment is not a place you would ever allow to crumble.

From the very first hours of the outbreak, people saw a leading figure in you. A seemingly natural instinct to guide people and keep them as safe as possible. Someone strict, just firm enough to keep panicking residents in line and gentle enough to reassure other equally terrified people.

The perfect leader, really. It wasn’t exactly the role you would have wanted had you imagined yourself in this situation prior, but you felt you didn’t really have a say in the matter. You were just a college student, and within a few hours, at least ten people in your apartment building had voiced out their agreement on you being the perfect captain for a broken and sinking ship.

So when this guy with a blue flannel gave off the same impression as you apparently did— enough to convince people he would be a good leader, too— you were mildly relieved. Part of you felt like it was a good thing someone else would take the reins for this whole thing. It was too much pressure for you. But another part didn’t feel at ease. After all, you didn’t know this guy. People trusted him for a reason— He did seem mature, headstrong, and determined. Good with instructions and quick-witted. But you didn’t know if that would be enough to let the people here, or you, at least, survive this.

If you were to survive this in a group, you would need to have some kind of authority when it came to making decisions. Surviving alone was fine, but being stuck with so many people meant certain chaos, attempts at democracy leading to stupid decisions, and your life being stacked between at least twenty others with barely a word to say when they would all eventually be led to sure death. You’d damn near experienced it already, and that was more than enough for you.

So you didn’t step away when Lee Eunhyuk, as you eventually learned his name to be, took the place of a leader. And thankfully, it seemed the residents hadn’t expected you to. So weeks ago, you and Eunhyuk were appointed as leaders of Green Home during the monster apocalypse.

“Going there would be suicide.”

“So you suggest we stay here and wait to die? Do you genuinely think the people in the next room over will be fine with that?”

Leaders who get along perfectly.

“I suggest you use your head a little. There’s resources in much more accessible spaces than this. The store at the side, for example?”

“I’m not sending anyone there.” Eunhyuk states blankly, in his usual emotionless fashion. You narrow your eyes and bite back a scoff.

“Right, I almost forgot it’s about sending out people with you. You’re a coward, you know that?” you say, and he glances at you from the side.

“And you’re just as selfish.” he says, turning to face you properly, “Let’s not pretend you’re any better than I am because you act courageous. You’re terrified.”

“And you’re mistaken. Why don’t you go out there and get to the storage room yourself?”

Eunhyuk’s tongue presses into his cheek and his fingers tightens into a fist. He presses his hand to the table and tilts his head a little, nodding slightly. “We both know without a leading figure this group is done for.” he says, tone much calmer than you’d anticipated. The restraint he has over his anger only serves as fuel to your own. You bite the flesh of your lip.

“Am I not a leading figure?”

“You are, but are you a good one?” he asks. There. There it is, the hint of anger. That cutting edge to his tone. It’s nearly imperceptible but it makes you want to bring out all of it.

“Do you believe I’m not?”

You step closer. He looks down to your feet then back up to meet your gaze. “You’re dodging the question.”

“It’s a weird question to ask.”

You’re close enough to punch him, now, if need be. You won’t. But it’s a good thing to note.

“I don’t think it is, all things considered.”

“Uh,” a meek voice comes from behind you. You turn towards the door to see a man from the group stand with a bottle in hand, moving around uncomfortably, “The others are arguing about rations… You should come.”

You take this as the perfect opportunity to clear your head and not to let your irritation get the better of you. You hum absentmindedly and walk past him to get to the store where you expect everyone to be, leaving the man and a scowling Eunhyuk behind.

“Is- Is something wr—”

“Everything’s fine.”

Everything is wrong.

It’s been less than a day since your argument with Eunhyuk when a new problem enters your life. A guy that looks about your age, that you remember walking past when he moved in, who fell from nine floors high in the stairway. He’s lying on the floor with blood all over and around him. Everyone is scrambling to take a look and Seo Yikyung has to be the one to hold them back, because you and Eunhyuk are too busy checking the supposedly dead man’s pulse for the third time.

“He’s breathing.” you sigh, pulling away your trembling hand from his face again. This is insanity.

“It’s impossible…”

“Get a grip.” you shove Eunhyuk’s shoulder, “Impossible isn’t in our vocabulary right now. Weird as this may be, we can’t just leave him here, so start thinking or I’ll make the decisions.”

He’s shaken out of his thoughts, alright, but now he seems another kind of confused that you can’t bring yourself to try deciphering. He calls your name but you don’t respond.

You don’t exactly look down, but you start to kneel to reach towards the body on the floor. You need to carry him somewhere else, where no one will see how bad it is. There’s kids here and the adults aren’t reliable. You can’t let this cause more trouble.

Your gaze is looking anywhere else but at the corpse— Person. Alive. You almost grab him when Eunhyuk stops you with a hand on your shoulder, effectively causing you to flinch.

“It’s fine. I’ll do it.”

He hoists the limp body up on his back with some effort and holds him tightly so he doesn’t fall. “Tell them to go elsewhere. It’ll only cause issues for them to see more than needed.” he tells you, nodding towards the hallway. The blood that gets on his clothes and the state of the one he carries unsettles you a little, but you nod and hurry outside.

“Go to the daycare.” you say, voice hoarse. Everyone’s chattering does nothing to help you calm down. You’re not sure if they didn’t hear you or if they simply don’t care. “I said go! Right now!” you exclaim, much louder.

The talking silences and everyone reluctantly heads to that place, though clearly still trying to get a glimpse of the situation. You breathe out sharply and stare down at the floor. Your reflection meets you halfway on the tiles, showing you just how little control you currently have on the emotions you usually hide so well. You’ve seen people get killed too many times since this all started but this is was one too many.

You can’t even tell if the stranger’s fall was accidental, if it was suicide, if… You can’t think.

Eunhyuk passes by you and you barely notice. Or rather, you force yourself not to notice.

So much blood.

The sun sets and rises again. Tension does as well.

“We can’t keep on using him.” you say upon stepping into the security office. Eunhyuk is leaning against the desk, eyes trained on the several CCTV screens when you come in, and he seems like he’s about to leave the moment you start talking. You close the door and he gives up. He seems to know there’s no point in trying to leave, now.

“Who?”

“Don’t play dumb. We both know you’re not.”

“High compliments coming from you.”

You sigh and step further into the room. “I’m not in the mood to argue, Lee Eunhyuk. Cha Hyunsu, he… He doesn’t deserve to be treated this way. You know it, too.”

Eunhyuk is silent. You see his thumb tapping against the desk rhythmically, like he’s thinking hard about something.

“Lee Eunhyuk.”

“I heard you.”

“Then say something!” you scream.

Eunhyuk turns to look at you. You take a breath. It’s unlike you to let your anger turn to yelling but you feel hopeless. Cha Hyunsu is just a boy your age trapped in circumstances he never asked for, and forced to do the worst part of the work around Green House. Eunhyuk never wanted to send anyone upstairs, yet he decided to send Hyunsu there. Because he’s a monster? Because he survived a several floors high fall? Because he was doomed to live in-between two kinds of evil, neither of which truly accepts him?

It just feels like it hits you harder today that this world will continue to be this cruel. And you two are not making it any better.

“This is the best way.” Eunhyuk says, unfazed. “The group needs to survive. You said it yourself. Cha Hyunsu’s the best bet we have at getting this result.”

“We saw him die, Eunhyuk.”

“He’s alive. You know that.”

“This is unfair.”

“The world is unfair.”

You look elsewhere, annoyed. Eunhyuk calls your name in the same tone he always does. “Your sympathy is useless.”

“What kind of leaders are we if rid of any compassion?”

“… The kind needed to survive.” he says quietly, gaze cast downwards. “Jisu asked for band-aids. Could you bring them to her for me?”

Anything’s a good enough distraction from whatever spiral you feel yourself falling into.

“Sure.”

Days pass. Your anger subsides.

“But didn’t you say it was okay to go there?”

“No, I didn’t.” Eunhyuk crosses his arms, “Who told you that?”

A name is mentioned in reply.

You sneeze.

“Aye, did you catch a cold?” Eunyu scoffs, laughing smoke at the face you seem to be making. “That’s bad. Catching a cold during an apocalypse? Seriously.”

You and the girl are sitting on the fire escape stairs, on the floor closest to the main hall. She has a habit of disappearing to go smoke, or whatever else she does, and you don’t want her getting killed. She didn’t seem to mind you coming to check up on her the first time, and now you have a habit of disappearing to hang out with her.

“I’m fine.” you click your tongue, “Anyways, you shouldn’t be smoking out there. If your brother was here he’d be pissed.”

“Who cares? Let’s not act like he ever shows it.”

You roll your eyes a little and chuckle. “Sure.” you hum, “Still. What’s the point in smoking? During an apocalypse, too? That’s bad.”

She flips you off and you return the gesture, earning a laugh in return. You don’t talk to many people in this place. Your age differs from nearly everyone. Eunyu’s a bit younger, so you’re mostly watching over her. Then there’s Hyunsu, but there’s a nearly visible wall between him and everyone. You can’t blame him for putting distance between you two especially. As far as he’s concerned, you’re also responsible for the errand-running he’s been told to do.

There’s Yikyung, but you’ve struggled to get close since you told her to shove off when she had Eunhyuk pinned to a wall. You’re not sure why you did that, even now. She’d be better company than him, maybe. And you understand her reasons.

Then there’s Eunhyuk.

“Serious talk, listen up.” Eunhyu huffs, “What relationship do you entertain with my brother?” she mimics a serious sounding voice that’s so unlike her. It makes you scoff in amusement.

“He’s a…” You trail off. What is he? A friend? An acquaintance? Whatever could be considered a coworker, at the moment? A fellow leader? “Uh, a person.”

Eunyu gives you this look that is so clearly judgemental that you consider jumping off the railing promptly.

“Yeah, no shit. Good to know he’s not turning.” she scoffs, “I know you hate him. Spit it out.”

“I don’t recall ever feeling that way.” you lie with an obviously fake smile. Eunyu threatens to throw her lighter at you. “He’s fine, alright? We just work together, I guess.”

“He likes you.”

“Hm?”

“He doesn’t hate you, I mean. You’re not stupid, so you noticed, right?” she says before bringing the cigarette to her lips again. You’re confused and it must show because she sighs in annoyance. “Clearly, I’d say the real leader is you out of you two. Aren’t most decisions yours?”

“They’re ours. Mostly his. Trust me, my opinion isn’t as valued as you might believe.”

Her expression suddenly sours and she curses under her breath. “And I think you’re wrong. Anyways, I’ll leave you with the jerk.” she coughs, pushing herself off of the stairs, “Bye.”

You hum curiously as you watch her leave before turning around. Lee Eunhyuk. Of course.

The first thing he does is shove your shoulder.

“What the hell?” you scoff, scrambling up to your feet before you can lose your balance. It’s such an unexpected move from him that you can’t help the words that slip past your lips. “What’s your deal?”

“Returning the gesture. What’s yours?”

“Huh?”

“The gate to the store alley. I said it should stay closed.” he says, “So why are three people on their way back from there telling me I allowed it?”

“Because I allowed it.” you say casually. “It had medicine, water, and some canned foods. Besides, we needed fresh air.”

He stays silent for at least half a minute before he steps closer to you. Close enough for your hands to touch if your arms were to move an inch. “It’s not safe. I said so enough, didn’t I?”

“Have you ever cared about safety?”

“I have—”

“About the people’s, about the half-monsters’s, about yours?”

Your name sounds tense when he says it.

“About mine?”

“Do you ever stop talking?” he grits his teeth. His eye twitches. You wouldn’t have noticed it had you been further away. No, you… you would have. You know his every feature and emotions too well by now. You would realize the most unnoticeable of changes from him. Any of them.

He’s angry.

There.

“Does that piss you off? That I talk so much?” you say, “Is it a problem because you never do? Does hearing someone so much get on your nerves? Should I leave the leading you? Are your decisions supreme? Am I too talkative? Is that it? Is that it?”

He kisses— He almost kisses you. He stops short of pressing his lips against yours, short of holding your collar and bringing it up to meet his chest, short of everything you only now realized would’ve been so good to have.

For fuck’s sake. “You’re holding back.”

“There’s no point in causing unnecessary fights.”

“You’re a coward.”

“You—”

You tilt your head, like you want him to finish his sentence. You do. He’s realized this much.

He takes a breath to calm down and steps back, much to your dismay.

“I know why you used to be so self-centered.”

“That’s…” you trail off, before laughing in disbelief. “What?”

“You almost got killed at the alley to the store, the one you just allowed to be opened. First day of the apocalypse. I remember it. You looked terrified. Then you put your survival above anyone else’s.” he says, “And yet now, you keep on trying to go. That’s something I don’t understand.”

You swallow, images of that monster nearly killing you with its claws, and dragging away a bloodied, dismembered corpse when it failed to find you. The feeling of someone pulling you back into the shadow so you wouldn’t get noticed, and the chaos that ensued in the main hall so quickly that you never got to see who it was.

… Wait?

“That was you.”

“It doesn’t matter who it was. You changed.” he cuts off any questions you might have, “You used to be selfish. People falsely believed you were a good leader just because you seemed strong. But you didn’t care about anyone’s lives except yours.”

“… So what? What changed?” you ask quietly, “Did you fall for it, too? Because I’m still the same, as far as I’m concerned.”

“You don’t get it.”

“I do—“

“The you I first talked to in the security room would’ve never went out of their way to make sure some high-schooler is doing fine. They wouldn’t have been this upset over a random half-monster running errands. You would have been unbothered. And that store you seem so obsessed with would’ve been emptied of the basics before anyone could get them. But it was full, wasn’t it? The store was untouched.”

You’re not sure what to say. Where is he going with this?

“Fine.” you settle with that. “Let’s say that, somehow, you’re right. Then should we talk about you? That you changed, too?”

“This isn’t about me.”

“You never talk this much. Why are you so obsessed with this?”

“… I just wanted you to know.” he says, but it sounds like he’s withholding another response. “It didn’t feel right for me not to tell you I knew about what happened after all this time. Also I need you to come back now. People are gonna crowd the store too much for it to be left without any rules.”

You look away. Decide. Look back at him. “Fine.”

Lives come and go. The obvious is ignored.

A lot of guns were pointed at a lot of people’s heads today. You’re unsure why the image of Eunhyuk stuck to the floor with a gun pointed to his forehead is stuck in your mind so much. It keeps rewinding— Reminding you that you were both helpless there, that you got lucky he even survived it all.

There’s so much blood everywhere.

Someone says your full name, with a tone much too casual to match what seemed to be politeness and with such ease that it can only be one person. He grabs your arms and tries to catch your gaze. “Are you okay?”

“Are you crazy?” you whisper, looking at him. He looks like a mess. “You almost got killed, Eunhyuk.”

“So did you. Don’t downplay it.” he argues. You expect his grip to loosen now that he’s seen you’re alright enough to talk but it only seems to tighten, “We have a few minutes to get it together before we have to go back to the usual. So be honest for once.”

Being honest…

You look at him, and your eyes are burning. “Fuck, Eunhyuk, I don’t know why I’m this scared.” you cough out, hands tensing at your sides.

He carries something gentler in his gaze, something you’re unfamiliar with. His hand drops to your wrist and he squeezes it. “Breathe.” he says, and you try, but it’s like you’re struggling to get the air in and out of your lungs. It’s burning, too. Why?… You’re panicking. That’s why. Your breaths come out short and that uneasiness who loves to get in the way of your thoughts is back. You can’t do anything, right now— you wouldn’t be able to get anyone to survive, let alone yourself.

Eunhyuk’s hand grabs your hastily and he brings it to his chest. “Slow down. Just breathe. That’s all that matters, right now.”

“Are you breathing?”

“I am. I need both of us to be. So listen to me.”

“Yeah.”

And just like a doctor would, he guides you to something calmer. Your gazes are locked the whole time. He insisted. Don’t look anywhere else, he said, just me. He helps you remember how to breathe again, helps you remember how to think, and helps you remember you have a lot to do immediately.

“We need to go.” you say, back to the closest thing to normal you could manage. “Hyunsu’s gone. Did anyone get shot? You should—”

“You should go grab the medkits. The ones in the nursery. Bring them here. I’ll take care of it.”

You don’t argue. “Okay.

Ah!” — But you nearly lose your footing. You hear Eunhyuk breathe out something that almost sounds like a laugh and turn around to glare.

“You’ll be lightheaded for a bit. Be careful.”

“Oh, yeah, okay.” you scoff. You hear Eunyu yell something along the lines of ‘It’ll be fine, so stop looking and get to work—‘ but you’re too far away to catch all of it.

The skies darken before the light comes back again. Things are eerily quiet.

When leadership becomes worthless, it’s hard to keep a proper sense of identity. Everyone has seen you and Eunhyuk as their leaders for a long while now. But since Jung Uimyeong’s arrival and the clear impact he’s had on the group’s dearest Cha Hyunsu, the atmosphere has suffered a drastic change. It feels tense for everyone but the newfound duo. It’s suffocating.

But instincts remain the same. Survival is key, and that means gathering information is, as well. You need to get what Uimyeong’s plan is before it escalates, but you know he would have no interest in talking to you.

So Hyunsu, it is.

“You don’t trust me.”

“But I do! I’ve always trusted you, Hyunsu.”

The latter keeps on walking and you have to jog to catch up. This is ridiculous, how could he allow a stranger to change him so much? Did he convince him the people here were the real enemy? You wouldn’t be surprised. Still…

“Just stop and have an actual conversation with me.” you scoff.

He does just that, stops in his tracks, and you nearly run into him. He turns around slowly to look at you. Hyunsu’s expression is usually devoid of emotion but now it’s just cold. “I don’t want to talk to you. Everything you say’s a lie. You don’t trust anyone here. I’ll say good luck to the people who still think you’re a good leader.”

“Isn’t that too much?” Eunhyuk. “Especially since you know it’s not true. Or were you influenced by that guy so easily?”

Hyunsu glances at him, then back at you, before directing his glare to Eunhyuk again. “Find someone else to run your errands. I’m tired of it.”

“That’s not—”

“Leave him be.” Eunhyuk says as Hyunsu walks away. You sigh and rub your temples. This isn’t good. “There’s no point in trying to reason with him now.”

“So what, we don’t do anything? Leave things as they are?”

“We do.”

You sigh and turn around to let your head drop on his shoulder. Eunhyuk brings his hand to the back of your head and leaves it there. You’re not sure how or why this change happened between the two of you after the shootout, but neither of you mention it. It might be for the best.

“I’m tired.” you mumble.

“You should get some rest.” he says quietly, “There isn’t much to take care of, right now. You should be able to sleep for a bit.”

“How long is a bit?”

“Until I wake you, approximately.”

“… Fine by me.”

The sun sets—

“Wake up.”

“Hmm…?” you force yourself to open your eyes and look up. God, the world’s blurry. “What?”

“Switch. I need to rest for a bit.”

You nod lazily and sit up on the bed, making space for him to sit. He settles at your side and turns to look at you. “Look here.” he says (demands) with a hand on your jaw. You turn and feel like he’s scrutinizing your face. “Any injuries?”

“Not anything new, no.” you say, “You?”

“The same.” he sighs, dropping his hand. It’s your turn to touch his face. You hold the side of it in your hand and let your thumb graze the skin under his eye. His glasses are good to hide his eyes, you think. But you’re always close enough to see them. After the shooting, you remember something, despite the state you were in.

“You cried.” you say. He hums inquisitively at that. “When those guys barged in and stuff. When you came back after going with them, you looked like you’d been crying.”

“Not really. I was just upset.”

“Because?”

“Is there not enough reasons to be upset in this place?” he deadpans, and scoffs silently when you give him a look. “I couldn’t save Ms. An. I watched her get shot.”

You have half a mind to hold back from squeezing his head to death. “And you didn’t think it worth mentioning? That’s bad, Eunhyuk.”

“I’ve… Seen worse.”

“That’s stupid.”

“You’re stupid.”

You look at him with wide eyes. “Take it back.”

“Or else?” he asks. Oh. Oh. He’s teasing you. What the hell? This is new. Your hand drops to grab his collar. You get deja-vu. Something similar happened before. He looks down at your hand then back up at you.

“You really want to find out, do you?”

There’s something in the air. Something you would’ve usually described as tension, but it almost feels comfortable. You know Eunhyuk well yet you can’t tell what’ll happen next. You could guess, though. Each word and touch means more now than it used to.

(Maybe they always meant something, maybe you just chose to ignore it.)

He stares at you for a few seconds then tilts his head to the side, expression unreadable. “I do.”

Your fingers tighten around his collar and he smiles. His hand comes up to wrap around your wrist, slowly pulling it away from him. “Hey…?”

“But I don’t think I’ll find out about anything. You’re a liar, after all. And a coward, just like me.” he says, all whilst gently pushing you to lay on the mattress. He does it so naturally it takes you a moment to realize. He hovers over you with your wrist still in hand. “Is that fine with you?”

“You insulting me or you pinning me down?”

“You decide.” he sighs, pressing your wrist down gently next to your head, “Would I be wrong to assume you don’t really mind either of those?”

You decide to shut him up instead. He takes it well.

“You taste a bit bloody.”

“Deal with it.”

#lee eunhyuk x reader #lee eun hyuk x reader #lee eunhyeok x reader #lee eun hyeok x reader #sweet home x reader #x reader

573 notes · View notes

autisticandroids · 28 days ago

Text

quick guide on backing up your tumblr from someone who has tried it various ways over the years

so, you noticed that tumblr is so understaffed that they didn't even do april fools this year and you're thinking of backing up your tumblr. maybe even using tumblr's built-in export function.

there are plenty of third party apps that will scrape your blog and grab all the posts. tumblr-utils is one that i have used historically to great effect. another option here. or find your own.

however, if you want to save your dms and asks, you need to use tumblr's export function.

first go to your blog settings and click export blog. you'll get an email when it finishes exporting. this may take a couple days.

now, my blog's file was about 400GB. that's almost half a terabyte. it's a lot of data. there's no way to shrink it or only download parts. it also will not tell you how big the file is going to be. my blog has ~250k posts and another 5k unanswered asks. and yours will probably scale with that.

(this is a good reason to use third party scrapers instead, by the by. tumblr-utils at least allows you to 1) download only your own original posts and not reblogs, 2) download only text and not media, and 3) download in batches not all at once. you're not forced to take the whole thing, which is a lot of data. the html result from tumblr utils is also more usable than the one from tumblr as well).

anyway. the first thing you'll want to do is make sure you choose what folder something downloads to. you do NOT want half a terabyte in your downloads folder. you want it going straight to an external drive. you can set firefox to open a little "save as" dialogue box everytime you download something, which honestly i would recommend doing anyway. or you can use a download manager like jdownloader, which will also help in other ways. though personally i found that jdownloader seemed to choke on the fact that tumblr doesn't tell you the size of the download, and that meant i couldn't interrupt the download or jdownloader would assume it was done.

second is just. make sure your external drive is big enough. i ended up literally bailing out files onto other random thumb drives because i only had about 250GB free on my external drive when i started downloading.

third. turn off your computer's ability to sleep. if you've got a pc that should be in the control panel under power settings. it should say power plan. my blog took about 15 hours to download. i had to just let my computer sit there downloading, and my computer needed to not go to sleep.

fourth, i would recommend using an ethernet cable if you have one. that will make it go faster.

you should get a file. though my computer literally choked on mine and i had to open it with 7zip because the zip file didn't quite work.

honestly if you're willing to spend an unreasonable amount of time and storage space on this i would recommend grabbing the tumblr native backup and then also using tumblr utils and scarping the text, then using the tumblr utils version of the text. my suspicion is that you can just grab the media folder from the tumblr export download and dump it into the tumblr utils folder and you'll be good. tumblr utils handles the text posts way better and more accessibly.

another space saving option is to just literally delete the media folder. or to delete the media in the folder that's not labeled "conversations," since the stuff labeled "conversations" is media that was sent in your dms and you may want to save that.

tumblr export WILL give you all you dms (including with deactivated users and users you have blocked and who have blocked you) and it will also give you unanswered asks (again including from deactivated users etc). probably also submissions and possibly also old fanmail, i haven't checked. i have not figured out yet whether you get your draft posts. if you do they're not in their own folder they're just mixed in with the rest.

the html formatting, however, is dogshit. even of the dms. the dm conversations are literally presented backwards.

#psa

93 notes · View notes

nan0-sp1der · 6 months ago

Text

␂ > 𝐂𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐞𝐫 // @lyrate-lifeform-approximation , @spiderman2-99

There’s a thought stirring in Bridge’s mind. An idea rolling about and nudging against the capacitors in her head, poking and prodding incessantly to get her attention, “Hey, hey, you know you want to ask her. Don’t you? Don’t lie to yourself, now. You should just do it. Hey! Are you listening to me? Hello-o…?”

Yes. Yes, she knows, she is aware of her burning curiosity. And it’s hard to deny that even though it doesn’t involve her, she is unusually intrigued by the concept. She overheard them in his office, Miguel and LYLA–his A.I. assistant–discussing a plan. A plan to create a physical form for LYLA to enhance her abilities as his assistant and grant her further autonomy beyond her access to the security network and other adjacent systems alongside her recent emergence into emotional intelligence. It was all so fascinating. The steps Bridge had taken herself in her development in the span of weeks, she was watching unfold in another intelligence in real-time.

There it was again. That sense of solidarity in knowing she wasn’t completely alone in her existence as an artificial being, made of code and metal. It was like a magnetic pull that made that little voice in her head that encouraged her to act on her wants all the more present in her mind. She wanted to be a part of that process that she’d been through so long ago yet was still so familiar with like it happened yesterday. She wanted to guide her in that process and grant her her own knowledge. What’s the worst that can happen if she pilots your hardware for a while? You’re prepared for this. You can handle this. You can trust her, and she will be entirely safe in your care for that short time. And think about how much she would benefit from the experience, how much more streamlined that eventual transition from intangible to tangible will be once her own body was complete. It will make all the difference–and maybe reduce the headaches for everyone all-around, mostly Miguel as he acclimates to the change himself. Just… Try it. You can’t account for every single last risk factor, can you? No. So just do it and take it as it comes.

She stood in the middle of her dorm a moment, eyes closed as she ran a quick check of her hardware before making her final decision. RAM is in good condition. Storage is defragmented and all directories are organized. Sensors are calibrated and functional. Nanomachines are synchronized properly. Servos and joints retain a full range of motion. Coolant is at above optimal operational temperatures. Energy reserves are complete. Good. Everything’s in its right place and ready for its–potentially–temporary host. It’s time to make the call.

Her gaze trains itself on her watch, her arm rising to eye-level and the sleeve that was weighed down by the leaden metal cuff at the end sliding to her forearm to reveal device so she can start the transmission, navigating the menus on the digital interface indirectly via wireless communication–the unique way that she operated and communicated the Society’s technology.

“LYLA, may I speak to you for a moment? At your leisure, of course.”

#{ open starter }#active processes #h.a.s.s.#humanoid android surveyor system #nano spider #oc rp #spidersona #spider man: across the spider verse #spider man: into the spider verse #across the spiderverse #into the spider verse

111 notes · View notes

callsign-dexter · 9 months ago

Text

Sweet Treats and Teasing

Request: Hi can i request a kelly severide x reader where kelly Severide introduces yn as his his girlfriend she brings cookies/ brownies to firehouse 51 and his co works they tease her a bit

Pairings: Kelly Severide x Reader

Warnings: fluff

Masterlist

A/N: thank you @maximeseveridecasey for requesting and I'm so sorry it took forever to get out!

Your life was great. You had an amazing boyfriend who was a firefighter and looked great in uniform. He would drop anything for you and you for him. You couldn't ask for anything better and you didn't want anything better. You were happy with your hunk of handsome firefighter. His name is Kelly Severide.

You run a pretty big bakery/deli/cafe, Station Sweets Cafe and Deli, close to the firehouse and it was sometimes a blessing and a curse. Big as in three stories tall upstairs for lounging and eating, main floor for food, kitchen, lounging and eating, and a basement for storage, inventory, appliances, and maintenance equipment. You get a lot of college kids studying for exams or just need a place to hang out. You also get a lot of your customers who are first responders and medical care personnel. You knew almost everyone, though you hadn't met Kelly's crew or not that you know of. They may have come in when you weren't there.

It was a blessing because you weren't too far from your boyfriend and a curse because each time, they got called out they drove past your bakery and it made you a nervous wreck. Even though you were the boss you also worked at the bakery/deli and loved it, you have the best staff you could ask for and it was perfect.

You and Kelly met when he walked into your bakery needing something for a last-minute pick up for a first responders get together. When you both laid eyes on each other the both of you melted and fell in love. Now it's been 4 years of nothing but bliss. You could see a future with him and what you didn't know was that Kelly was thinking the same thing. Sure, he has had his fair share of flings and girlfriends but when he met you, he didn't want anybody else, he just wanted you. Some people could say you changed him for the better.

Currently you are snuggled up with Kelly and enjoying his heat that he always puts off on the chilly Chicago morning. If it were up to you and him you both wouldn't leave but sadly reality came rearing its head, well at least for Kelly it was your day off, by the sound of his alarm going off. You groaned and he did too and was quick to turn off. “Do you have to go?” You asked as you rolled over to look at him and he chuckled while smiling and kissing your forehead.

“Yes. You know how much I would love to stay in bed with you all morning but people need saving.” He said, you sighed frowning just a little.

“Can't they take a break from doing anything idiotic for one day?” You asked and he chuckled.

“I so wish, Baby. Now come on, I have to take a shower.” He said

“Can I join?” You asked and smiled.

“Always, you know I would never say no to you joining me in the shower.” He said as he started to get out of bed and you followed him.

After your nice hot steamy shower, you both were now in the kitchen. He had one his uniform and you had your hair up in a wet bun and just a shirt hanging on your body. He admired you from the doorway of the kitchen as you moved around easily getting things out for the day. He moved to where he was behind you and took you in his arms making you squeal. “KELS!” You shrieked out and he chuckled as he kissed your neck, you leaned your head giving him better access. “You're gonna be late.” You said as you turned in his arms and threw your arms around his neck.

“Hmmmm they'll understand.” He said and you smiled and shook your head.

“No, you need to get going. You have lives to save, remember?” You asked

“Yea I remember.” He said and you kissed him.

“I'll see you in three days.” You said and groaned and pulled a face.

“Three days is too long.” He replied and you nodded in agreement.

“But it's what you signed up for and you love it.” You reminded him.

“Yes, I know. I do love it but I love you more.” He said and you chuckled and pushed his chest.

“Get going you big sap. I may or may not bring some treats down to you later.” You said

“If you do, the entire firehouse will love you for it.” He said and you smiled.

“Oh, don't I know.” You replied, you had sent some goodies down to them via one of your workers but they never knew you were the one to make them. Most of your workers knew how to make the food and that's because you had the recipes in a book and they were very simple and easy to follow.

“You know you should stop by and I can introduce you to the team. Let them know you're the one making the treats that they can't seem to get enough of.” He said as he got ready to leave. Half of the time when you were off you sent Kelly with some goodies that you had left over from baking at home for the bakery or just in general and he always comes back with requests for more. Now Kelly can cook and bake but his baking doesn't live up to yours and you can cook really good, some say even better than Kelly and you take pride in that and sometimes tease him about it.

“I just might have to do that. Can't have you taking all the credit for the sweets I bring and send.” You said and he laughed a very continuous laugh.

“Hey, I can bake.” He said and you smiled and nodded.

“That you can but I'm just a little bit better at it.” You said and he nodded and cocked an eyebrow.

“You got that right.” He said and then looked down at his watch “I gotta go. I love you.” He said as he planted another kiss on your forehead.

“I love you too.” You said and he started to walk out “Be safe!” You yelled out to him and he turned around, body out the door and hand on the door knob.

“Always.” He said and then winked and he was off leaving you smiling and shaking your head. Now you were left to sort out what you wanted to make. You thought about making some s'mores treats for them and to be honest you wanted some too. So that's what you set out on doing. First you needed to go to the grocery for in general food and supplies for home and the bakery, yes you had a truck coming but one of your workers texted you that they needed something before the truck got there tomorrow morning and you being the best boss told them you would be there soon. You figured you would get those supplies and then go back to finish shopping for home supplies.

As you arrived at the grocery store you checked your phone one more time for what you needed for your store and quickly went to that section. “Alright, let’s see where is it?” You asked yourself and began to look through the shelves.

“What can I help you with?” Someone asked but you knew that voice and smiled and turned around and saw your boyfriend.

“Hi there, handsome. I’m looking for some ground cinnamon.” You said and he smiled.

“Don’t you have a truck coming in with those supplies?” Kelly asked and you smiled and nodded.

“I do but they won’t be in until tomorrow morning and we are out out.” You explained

“I see. I see.” He said and then you turned back around and started to look for it once again. “Here it is.” He said and grabbed it and gave it to you.

“You’re a lifesaver.” You said and turned around and kissed him and he gladly kissed back.

“That’s my job, Babe.” He said and you laughed. “Still coming to the station?” He asked.

“Yup! Just have to deliver this to the shop and then go back here to grab supplies and groceries for home.” You said and he hummed.

“You be careful out there.” He said

“Always.” You said and winked using the move he used on you that morning and he laughed as you began to walk away. You were checking out and heading to your shop. It wasn’t that far of a drive and you arrived pretty quickly. You parked and grabbed your bag and walked into the building.

“Good morning, Y/N/N.” Will Halstead, one of your regulars and best friends, said and you smiled at him.

“Hey, Will.” You said

“Isn’t it supposed to be your day off?” He asked and you chuckled and nodded.

“Yes, but we ran out of ground cinnamon.” You said and he chuckled.

“I see. I will let you get to it. Have a nice day!” He said and you smiled.

“You too.” You said and then quickly walked to the back where Leslie, the one who texted you, was there. “Here is your ground cinnamon.” You said and she looked relieved.

“Thank you so much! I’m so sorry you had to be here on your day off but I couldn’t wait until the morning to make these. We have a large order for a party tonight.” She said and you smiled at her.

“Not a problem. I was on my way to the grocery store so it was not a problem.” You said and she smiled.

“Is there a way I can make it up to you?” She asked and you shook your head.

“No, you do enough around here.” You said

“Thank you again.” She said and you smiled and then got back to work and then you were heading back to the store to grab supplies for the s’mores treats and supplies for home. It was a very quick trip and the next thing you knew you were back at home bringing in the groceries and started on the treats.

You put on music and began your baking. You enjoyed backing anything that you could, some you have recipes for and others you didn’t. Occasionally you would get a text from Kelly and in response you would send him a picture of what you were doing and he always responded that you were teasing him but you reminded him that he was going to get some and he had full access to the sweets when he was at home.

After 4 fours of baking, you had enough for the entire station for the three days that they would be on shift. You packed them up and then put them in a bag and headed off to the station. It wasn’t a very far drive and you were thankful for that. When you parked next to Kelly’s truck you got out and grabbed the sweets and walked into the station all vehicles were there which meant that they were all still there. As you walked in you spotted Kelly. “Hey, Kels.” You said and he was quick to turn around and a smile appeared on his face.

“Hey, Baby.” He said and walked over to you. “Wasn’t expecting you so soon.” He said and you huffed.

“Bull shit yes you were.” You said and he chuckled.

“Ok, yes, I was. So, what did you bring us?” He asked

“Oh, just some s’mores cookies and brownies.” You said

“I heard s’mores.” A woman’s voice came through and you looked around Kelly and smiled.

“You heard correctly.” You said as she came closer and then everyone was coming out.

“Guy’s this is Y/n, my girlfriend.” Kelly said “Y/N this is Christopher Herrmann, Stella Kidd, Harold Capp, Joe Cruz, Gabriela Dawson, Sylvie Brett, Wallace Boden, Matthew Casey, Blake Gallo, and Brian Zvonecek aka Otis.” He said and introduced each and every one of them.

“It’s nice to finally meet all of you.” You said a little bit nervously.

“We finally get to meet the girl that made Kelly actually settle down.” Otis said and you chuckled.

“It wasn’t easy but hey I like a challenge.” You said “Please feel free to eat the sweets, they're s’more cookies and brownies.” You said and everyone.

“Let’s get these inside and where it is warmer.” Kelly said

“Oh man our man Kelly is down bad.” Casey said “You know ever since you had become a couple he has changed for the good. It must be the food.” He said as he picked up a container and started to walk into the station and into the kitchen/ break room.

“Oh my gosh. These are so good!” Gabriela said “Wait… do you own Station Sweets Cafe and Deli?” She asked and you smiled and nodded.

“Yes, I do.” You said

“I knew you looked so familiar. I love that place.” She said and you smiled.

“Thank you.” You said

“I knew Kelly couldn’t have cooked all those delicious sweets.” Joe said

“Hey! I can bake.” He said

“That is very true. He can.” You said

“You keep feeding us these treats and we’ll have to start working out more.” Blake said and you laughed.

“I think you all will be just fine considering your jobs are a work out. I could never.” You said. The longer you stayed the more you got comfortable around them and the more the teasing you got but you gave it back to them.

“So, Y/N, how did Kelly convince you to give him your number?” Stella asked

“She made me work for it.” Kelly said and you nodded.

“He kept coming into the store but I was never there or I was busy but I noticed him. He finally got to talk to me when he needed something for the first responder’s cookout and the rest was history. So, there really was no convincing.” You said. More questions were fired at you but you answered them with ease and Kelly just sat back as you handled his team with ease. He knew you were the right one for him and he couldn’t wait to spend the rest of his life with you.

You could’ve stayed all day but the bell rang and they had to go to work. Kelly turned to you as everyone ran out to get their gear on. “I’m sorry for all the teasing.” He said and you shook your head and waved him off.

“Nonsense. They are great. I’m just glad I was the one to settle you down.” You said

“I’m glad it was you too.” He said

“You need to go.” You said and started to push him out.

“Alright, I love you.” He said and kissed you and you kissed him back.

“I love you too. Be safe.” You said

“Always.” He said and winked at you and smirked and then he was pulling on his gear and they were speeding off. As you watched them go off you smiled to yourself, you were so glad you were the one he decided to settle down with. You couldn’t imagine your life without him and you didn’t want to. Everything was perfect.

Tag list:

@kmc1989

@els-marvelvsp

@atarmychick007

@nyx2021

@grandstrangerphantom

@angenu01-blog

@talesofreading

@callsign-revenge

291 notes · View notes