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hungermakesmonsters · 2 days

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(Once Bitten) Twice Shy

Chapter Five

Plot summary : Desperate to get away from your controlling family, you take a job in New York as a wealthy vampire's blood source. A million dollars awaits if you can make it through a year, but life with Billy Russo is not going to be as simple as you think.

Pairing : Billy Russo x Reader

Story Rating : R Chapter Rating : R

Warnings : [This is a fic for 18+ only, minors DNI] Smutty behaviour including toy use. All chapters will contain mentions of blood. Please check the warnings on each chapter if you choose to follow this story.

Word Count : 5.6k (I am so sorry)

A/N : This was originally over 7k long so... at least I managed to get it down to under 6k. Tumblr is still only letting me tag five people at a time, so tags will be in comments again.

CHAPTER ONE | CHAPTER TWO | CHAPTER THREE | CHAPTER FOUR

MASTER LIST

Chapter Five

Minutes passed, your back against the door, barely breathing, the stuffed beagle clutched to your chest. Eyes closed, you tried to focus on any little sound that might tell you what he was doing, if he was even still out there. Part of you wanted to go to him, to carry on your conversation. To be near him. You’d seen a new side of him and it was enticing as it was frustrating; how could he be so aloof one minute and so sweet the next?

Your thoughts strayed to that night, to the way he’d kissed you and how his body had felt pressed against yours.

Tearing yourself from the door, you moved to your room, creating distance between yourself and temptation. But yet felt like a spring, coiling tighter and tighter with every little thought of him.

Surely he knew what he was doing to you, the effect he had every time he touched you and smiled that damned smile.

You barely knew him but he gave you butterflies. He stole your breath every time his dark eyes found yours.

Fuck.

You felt like a silly school girl with a crush on the teacher, knowing that it was wrong and nothing could happen. Only, something had already happened. Just the thought of it brought heat to your cheeks and that fluttering feeling to your stomach.

Locking your bedroom door, you let your attention drift to your nightstand. To the top drawer. Cautiously you pulled it open and peeked inside. Embarrassment swelled inside you, reminding you why you’d been trying so hard to ignore it.

It was as full as any other drawer in the room. No expense had been spared. Honestly, you weren’t even sure what half of the toys were for. Some you could guess but others were a little more confusing. All different shapes, colours and sizes. Some so large they looked downright painful.

Frustrated, you slammed the drawer shut.

You weren’t a virgin but you didn’t consider yourself experienced. Sex for you had been awkward fumbles with guys you’d grown up with, shameful moments that often ended in disappointment. Dates had been approved by your parents, and no one they approved of wanted sex unless it could be used to force an engagement.

But, now that you had the opportunity to experience new things, you didn’t even know where to start. Despite your age, you felt like a naive child.

Changing into your PJs you fell into bed, TV distracting you from thoughts of Billy and having dinner with him. When you finally settled to sleep, you pulled the stuff beagle to your chest again and realised that you could spell the faintest hint of his cologne on it. And, all you could think about as you drifted off, was how it would feel to fall asleep in his arms.

Panic gripped you the moment you woke, a thousand anxious thoughts about the evening to come filling your head. You didn’t know what you were going to wear or how you’d manage to make it through an evening without saying anything stupid.

You tried to read over breakfast but you couldn’t concentrate. The tension inside you, the desire that you didn’t know how to suppress, seemed to wind tighter and tighter until you couldn’t sit still.

Taking a cold shower didn’t help either. Instead, the cold water reminded you of his touch and, suddenly, it felt like his hands were all over your body, touching you and caressing you in ways that drove you crazy.

Returning to your bedroom wrapped in a towel, you threw yourself onto the bed, the frustration boiling over.

He’d suggested talking, getting to know each other, but how were you going to do that when you couldn’t focus? How could you have dinner with him when all you could think about was him kissing you?

You realised there was only one thing you could do.

Closing your eyes, you fumbled with the top drawer of the nightstand, reaching in and pulling out the first toy your hand fell on. You took a few deep breaths before looking at it; blue silicone with a slight curve, not big enough to be intimidating but it still made your cheeks warm. A little button at the base caused it to vibrate.

Oh fuck.

You took a few more deep breaths, knowing you had to at least try. Parting your legs, you slipped the still-vibrating toy between your thighs.

Your breath hitched at the first little touch. The second touch was firmer, pressing the tip against your clit. Oh. It felt good, better than any pleasure your fingers were capable of creating. Biting your lip, you tried to keep from moaning, as the pleasure quickly started to mount inside you. You turned it off, knowing you needed more, you needed everything.

Gingerly, you reached between your thighs, feeling how wet you were before guiding the toy to your entrance. A low, gasped moan escaped you as you began to slowly slip it inside you.

Letting your head fall back on the pillow, you tried not to think too much about what you were doing, instead finding your mind drifting somewhere far more dangerous. To thoughts of him. And the more you thought about Billy, the better it felt. Soon enough, your eyes were closed and you were imagining him on top of you; the weight of his body pressing you into the mattress and his dark eyes fixed on you as he fucked you. You were certain that he’d know exactly what he was doing, that a night with him would be better than anything you’d experienced before.

“Billy,” you moaned softly, remembering the kiss, remembering the way he’d made you feel wanted. It became harder to hold back the sounds that were desperate to escape you as you descended further into the fantasy, moving the toy a little faster.

Your free hand reached for the first thing it could find, bringing the stuffed beagle to your lips to stifle your moans. Suddenly all you could smell was his cologne and it was almost enough to push you over the edge.

Finally, you turned the vibrator back on and came almost immediately.

“Mr Russo,” you keened softly into the stuffed toy, every gasped breath filling your nostrils with his scent.

Your cheeks burned with shame the moment it was over, but you kept the toy inside you, imagining him as the sort of man who’d take his time before pulling out, making sure you were finished.

Suffice to say, you were mortified once you’d dropped the toy to the floor and your heart rate had started to slow.

It didn’t feel right, in fact it felt awful, like you’d used him for your pleasure without permission. But, you finally felt better. The tension was gone. You could finally relax and spend the rest of the day finishing The Picture of Dorian Gray, hoping it would give you and Billy something to talk about.

You drew blood early, getting it out of the way so you could spend an obscene amount of time obsessing over what to wear. Eventually, you settled on a casual little black dress that wasn’t over the top, but made it look like you’d made an effort. After tying back your hair, you put on some natural looking make-up, hoping it would give you a little more confidence.

And, when you finally stepped out into the penthouse, you could have sworn you saw his breath catch.

Billy was dressed more casual than you’d ever seen him, wearing a red sweater and dark jeans. A look that definitely worked for him. He watched from the sofa as you made your way towards him.

“You look lovely,” he said and your heart stuttered.

Glancing down at yourself, you bit your lip, feeling like it was too much. “We usually only have take out on special occasions back home, so...” you shrugged.

“I feel a little under-dressed,” he joked.

“You always look nice,” you remarked before realising what you’d actually said. “I mean... you always dress very nicely.”

“My tailor will be glad to hear you say that,” he smiled as you sat. “The food should be here soon. I hope you don’t mind that I ordered the fixed menu.”

“That’s fine.” If anything it made it easier; you wouldn’t have to worry about the food list.

“Wine?” He offered and you nodded eagerly, despite not being much of a drinker. “Is Riesling okay?” You weren’t sure so you nodded again.

The bottle and glasses were already on the table, in fact his was already half-empty. He filled a glass and you leaned to take it from him, your fingers brushing against his and, for a second, he didn’t let go.

“You smell nice,” he muttered, his gaze lingering as your cheeks warmed. You hadn’t put on perfume, so you assumed it must be your vanilla body wash. “How’s your hand?” He asked a moment later with a touch more reluctance.

Holding it up, you showed him the gauze bandaid across your palm. “It’s fine. Nearly healed.”

Billy nodded, his guilt obvious. But, thankfully, he didn’t say anything else on the matter.

“I finished Dorian Gray,” you told him, stopping an awkward silence from falling.

“Oh? And what did you think in the end?” He asked, crossing his legs so he could turn more towards you.

“I’m not sure yet. It was a lot to take in.” You shrugged. “He did some horrible things; especially to Sybil and poor Basil, but some of it wasn’t all that bad? And then when he tried to change, Henry made him feel bad about it.” You took a breath, feeling the weight of his scrutiny on you. “I get that it’s a cautionary tale about excess and hedonism, but I don’t think anyone should be punished for trying to enjoy themselves...”

“It was a different time,” Billy offered, still completely focused on you. “Dorian’s hedonism damaged almost everyone unlucky enough to fall under his spell.”

“I know, I just...” you let out a huff, not sure how to articulate what you wanted to say. “I think if he’d been given the opportunity, he could’ve changed for the better.”

“That’s very optimistic of you.”

He said optimistic but you were certain that he meant naive.

“I still don’t understand why you like it.”

“Well, it’s -” he was cut short by the sound of a buzzer before the elevator doors slid open. “Saved by the bell,” he remarked, grinning as he got to his feet to go collect the food from the doorman and tip him.

While Billy got the food, you made your way to the dining table, taking your glasses and the bottle with you. Places were already set and you felt butterflies in your stomach when you noticed the candles. Realistically, he was probably just trying to make things nice but, in your mind, all you could think about was how it seemed intimate.

You took a seat and a long sip of wine while Billy unpacked the food, almost covering the whole table. The smell was enough to make your stomach grumble. Once everything was on the table, Billy dimmed the lights with his phone and lit the candles.

“Dig in,” he told you, starting to fill his own plate.

You started with the things you knew you liked, taking a little and starting to eat, but it wasn’t long before you found your attention drifting to him, watching through your lashes. You watched him eat, watched the way his throat bobbed as he swallowed, the way he licked his lips.

“What?” He asked, fighting back a grin. Your gaze dropped to your place and your cheeks started to burn. “It’s okay, you can ask.”

“What’s it like? When you eat, I mean,” you asked softly, knowing it really wasn’t any of your business.

“Same as when you do,” Billy offered without seeming to care, “only flavours are muted and it never makes me feel full.”

“Oh,” you looked up and instantly felt bad.

“What’s that look for?

“What look?”

“You get this look sometimes, like something I’ve said has made you sad. Like you feel sorry for me.”

“It’s not that,” you tried to explain, “I just... I can’t imagine not being able to enjoy things like food and sunsets.”

“It’s not that I can't enjoy them,” he shrugged again, “I just enjoy them less than I did when I was human.”

“Do you miss being human?” You asked before realising how inappropriate it was. You shook your head. “I’m sorry, that was rude, I shouldn’t’ve -”

“No, it’s fine,” he answered, reaching for his glass and taking a long, slow drink. “I do miss it. This - this wasn’t something I chose.”

There was nothing you could say to that. There were questions, yes, but you weren’t entitled to the answers and you didn’t want to risk ruining the evening by asking them. Awkwardly, you reached for your glass and took a drink.

“There’s that look again,” he remarked with a soft smile, “don’t worry, I’ve had enough time to come to terms with what I am now.”

The small talk continued over food, mostly about the food, until you felt like you couldn’t eat another bit. Sinking back in your chair, you closed your eyes and let out a slow exhale. When you looked at Billy again you found him grinning at you as he reached across to top up your glass.

“I didn’t order any dessert but if you’re still hungry I could -”

“Don’t you dare,” you laughed. “But thank you, this was really nice.”

“Glad you enjoyed it,” he told you as he refilled your glasses. “I want you to enjoy your time here. I know things got off to a strange start, but I want you to be comfortable here.”

“I am - I mean, I’m trying to be,” you struggled to explain. “I’m still getting used to it, but being able to go out with Karen really helped.”

“She enjoyed meeting you. She found you very interesting,” Billy answered, an indecipherable smile on his lips. “I find you interesting too.”

The comment caused your head to pound a little harder in your chest and your thighs to press together. The lump in your throat kept you from responding. A moment later, he changed the subject.

“Let’s go sit on the sofa,” pushing his chair away from the table. You nodded, pushing back your chair and standing, hesitating when you looked at the mess on the table. “Don’t worry, the maid will deal with it.”

“Maid?” There was a maid?

“She usually comes around 4am,” he answered, waving his hand towards the sofa, indicating that you should go while he got tonight’s blood from the kitchen.

Wine glass in hand, you sat on the sofa, staring out at the twinkling lights of the city and, again, you couldn’t help but think how intimate it all felt. Billy soon joined you, leaving some space between you, but not much - even less when you folded your legs beneath you and turned towards him.

“So,” he started with a smile, “what do you want to know?”

What followed was a long conversation about Billy, finding out what you could. He’d been a vampire for fifteen years; in his human life he’d been a Marine and, now, he ran a private security firm that mostly catered to vampire clientele. He was born and raised in New York but had no family. And he was wealthy enough that he simply laughed when you asked about the credit card in your name.

Then, he turned the spotlight on you.

You explained that you were from the Midwest, a little middle-of-nowhere town, and that your family were part of an insular, conservative community. You’d spent the last few years helping homeschool some of the local children, but you’d decided you’d wanted a change. You’d wanted to see the world and experience new things. He didn’t ask why you’d taken the job, and you didn’t offer the information, instead you tried to make it seem like everything was simple and happy in your life.

All the while, his eyes stayed fixed on you, as he sipped your blood.

“Does it unsettle you?” He asked suddenly. “Seeing me drink your blood?”

“N-no,” you tried to speak around the lump in your throat, “I don’t mind.”

“But you have questions?”

“Some?” You answered and Billy gave a nod, indicating you could ask if you wanted. “The other day, when you mentioned it was still warm, is that...” you couldn’t bring yourself to finish.

“It’s better, yes,” his voice dropped to a low whisper, tongue running over his lips. “It’s like drinking from the source.”

“And is that...” Again, you couldn’t finish, feeling breathless just at the thought.

“I don’t bite. You never have to worry about that.” But the way he was looking at you said something else entirely.

“Good,” you finally manage to take a breath, “I don’t want to be bitten... or turned...”

Billy simply nodded.

“What can you taste when you drink my blood?” You asked, remembering what he’d said about knowing you hadn’t been sleeping or eating. “You said you can tell certain things from it?”

“Hormonal changes can affect how it tastes,” he offered.

“That’s why you want me to keep healthy and eat right?”

“Yes, it makes your blood taste better, but it’s also because I don’t want you getting sick. I’m not entirely heartless,” he smiled.

Silence fell and Billy took another drink. The care he took not to waste a single drop had your heart beating faster and, this time, when he noticed you watching, you didn’t look away. You couldn’t look away. Maybe the wine had helped lower your inhibitions, or maybe you were starting to feel more comfortable with him. Whatever it was, the moment didn’t end until he’d finished the whole glass.

Billy licked his lips again, and you noticed his gaze drop to the neckline of your dress as you took deeper breaths trying to calm your racing heartbeat, causing your breasts to awkwardly rise and fall. Your cheeks burned with embarrassment and your eyes dropped to the empty glass in his hand, now resting on his lap and - fuck, your eyes snapped back up awkwardly, the moment you noticed the way his pants were tented. He was hard.

“I, uh -” you started, getting to your feet, “- I need a glass of water.”

You didn’t wait for a response before heading to the kitchen, giving him space to deal with whatever that was. Your heart was still pounding uncomfortable, your hands shaking as you found a clean glass and started to run the cold tap. Filling it, you took a slow drink, hoping to drown the butterflies in your stomach.

You didn’t hear him move, didn’t realise he was right behind you until his hand came to rest on the edge of the counter beside yours, his cold thumb brushing over your pinkie. Your breath caught as his shadow swallowed yours on the wall, and your cheeks continued to burn. Desire and embarrassment warred inside you, but Billy didn’t speak until you did.

“What are you doing?”

“Nothing without your consent,” he answered softly, against your ear.

He inhaled slowly, his nose inches from your hair. Then came that low, restrained groan. He sounded like a caged animal, desperate to be released, and you realised you were the one holding the keys.

For a second, you remained frozen, knowing that he was giving you a choice. It was a bad idea to complicate things between you, but some part of you wanted this, wanted him. Suddenly all you could think about were the fantasies you’d played out with the vibrator that morning.

Swallowing the lump in your throat, you stepped back, pressing yourself against him.

His hand twitched, his thumb covering your pinkie, holding it.

“Say yes,” he near-demanded, wanting your unequivocal consent, his lips ghosting your ear with every word. “I need you to say you want this.”

“Yes,” you breathed, “I want this.”

A split-second later, his hand was on your stomach, pulling you back against him, letting you feel the hard press of his cock against your lower back. His lips moved to your neck, kissing and sucking your skin in a way that made your heart race faster. And you quickly realised how much Billy liked that.

“That’s right, little hummingbird,” he groaned, moving his hand to palm your breasts over your dress. “Fuck, you’ve been driving me crazy all night.”

All you could offer was a whimper in response, breath catching as his hand started to slip down your body, reaching beneath your dress. Cold fingers trailed up your bare thighs, causing a shiver of delight to run up your spine and for heat to pool between your thighs.

His knee pressed gently between yours, urging your legs apart, letting his hand move higher. You bit your lip and tried to stifle a moan when you felt his fingertips against the wet fabric of your panties, but holding back anything became impossible the moment his cold fingers slipped inside. His touch was light to begin with, teasing, fingers stirring between your folds, drawing a gasp from you. A low growl vibrated through his chest as he coated his fingers in your arousal, his touches getting more pronounced the wetter you got.

Your head fell back against his shoulder as his lips and fingers continued their assault on your senses. You didn’t even notice his hand move from the counter until you felt his fingers tangling in your hair, pulling gently to turn your face enough so he could kiss you. His tongue against the seam of your lips was almost enough to distract you from his finger slowly easing its way between your walls. You whimpered and moaned against his lips, letting his tongue slip into your mouth, keeping you in the kiss until every inch of his finger was buried inside of you.

“Fuck, hummingbird,” he groaned, a dangerous glint in his eyes and a grin on his lips. You moaned as his finger flexed inside you, slowly starting to withdraw before pushing in again. “Don’t come. That’s the only rule you have to follow right now; don’t come until I say you can. Can you do that?”

“I -” you could barely think to answer.

“If you can’t, I’ll stop,” he warned, his finger stilling and causing you to keen at the loss of sensation.

“Yes,” you moaned.

Your relief was palpable the moment he started to move again. The fingers in your hair, tugging softly so his lips could return to your neck. It didn’t feel real. It felt amazing in a way you couldn’t comprehend. Your heart raced faster when you felt him start to press a second, cold finger inside you, and you realised you were gripping his thigh. Hard.

“You’re so wet for me,” he groaned against your neck. “Practically dripping all over my hand,”

The words alone were enough to cause you to clench around his fingers, letting you feel them more acutely as they started to move a little faster, fucking you to the knuckle each and every time.

“Billy, please...” you pleaded, not sure you could take much more.

“Not yet,” he groaned, his lips against your ear, nipping and sucking at the lobe in a way that made everything so much harder for you. “It’ll feel so good if you just wait.”

You wanted to wait, to play his game, but how could you when it already felt so good? You felt yourself on the precipice, every muscle tensing, your slick walls tightening and gripping his fingers. Your eyes closed tight and you almost felt ashamed of yourself, like you were going to ruin the moment because you couldn’t control yourself.

His fingers stilled again just before you could go over the edge.

“Not yet,” he told you, voice calm but commanding. “Just breathe. Let me be in control.”

You managed a weak nod before he pulled you back into another kiss, fingers staying perfectly still for a few moments, not moving again until he felt you start to relax. This time his fingers moved in shallow thrusts, bending inside you, pressing against your soft inner walls like he was searching for something.

Your whole body shuddered when he found it and you saw stars.

“Does that feel good?” He asked and you nodded, unable to do anything but moan when his fingertips brushed against the same spot. “That’s it, little hummingbird, sing for me.”

More moans slipped from your lips, each more desperate than the last, your fingers digging into his thigh through his jeans.

“Billy, I-I need to...” you begged, words fracturing into another cry of pleasure.

“Do you need to come?”

“Y-yes!”

“Say it,” his commanding voice sending a thrill down your spine and right to your core.

“I-I need to come,” you pleaded, feeling more brazen than you had in your whole life. You’d never been the sort to beg to come, but the thought of it thrilled you almost as much as his fingers inside of you.

“Then come for me.”

Your reaction was instantaneous, so much so that you had to wonder if it was because you’d needed to come or simply because he’d demanded it. Your body started to tremble and shake, your walls clenching around his fingers as they continued to move inside you, and the sounds you were making - if you hadn’t felt completely out of your mind, you would have been embarrassed by the desperate noises.

As you came you barely noticed his hand slip from your hair to press against your chest, resting over your racing heart. Your head turned and his lips quickly claimed yours, swallowing down your moans, his fingers still dragging out your orgasm until your legs felt so weak you weren’t sure you’d be able to stand without his arms around you.

Without warning, Billy's hand slipped from between your legs and he swept you off your feet, carrying you back to the sofa. He sat back with you on his lap, holding you close, your body trembling so much that you worried it would never stop. It felt like he’d broken something inside of you and your body didn’t know how to process all the pleasure he’d created.

Being on his lap didn’t help, but it would have been a lie to say you hated the feeling of his arm wrapped possessively around you and his hand resting on your bare thigh. You curled against him, your head on his chest as you slowly caught your breath.

Billy’s lips pressed a gentle kiss to the top of your head as you finally started to sill.

“Are we going to -”

“Not tonight,” he answered, not needing you to finish the question. “I’m not going to rush you.”

Even though he was still hard, he didn’t want anything else. You weren’t sure if it was a rejection or if he really didn’t want to rush you, but it left you feeling even more uncertain.

When you found the nerve to lift your head, he gave you a gentle smile, his fingers squeezing your thigh tenderly.

“Do you want to talk about it?” He asked.

Any conversation felt like it would be for your benefit rather than his. Billy seemed perfectly comfortable with what had just happened.

“Thank you,” you told him softly.

“For what?” Both confused and amused by the comment.

“For - for asking first,” your voice broke a little.

His gaze darkened, an unasked question on his lips. He was angry, not at you but at what the comment implied. Thankfully, he didn’t ask, didn’t push for an explanation you didn’t want to offer.

“You always have a choice here,” he reminded you. “You can always say no to this. I’ll never hold it against you.”

You stayed silent for a beat. “What if I don’t want to say no?”

“Then I’ll make sure you enjoy your time here with me.”

“But that’s all it’ll be?”

“Yes,” he answered, “I won’t pretend I can offer you more than that.”

“Okay, good. I-I don’t want anything serious.” The comment earned a strange smirk from him. “What?”

“I just didn’t expect you to want anything so casual. You’re constantly surprising me.”

“I -” you paused, biting your lip, “- I want to have fun. I want to experience the things I’ve been missing out on.”

“That’s something I’d be more than happy to help with, hummingbird,” he told you, smiling that cocky smile, making you want to melt.

“I’ve never...” you trailed off and saw his eyebrow raise, “I mean I’ve never done anything like... friends with benefits?”

“I thought I was paying you for your blood, not your friendship?” He smirked, recalling the terrible comment you’d made when you’d been angry with him. Then he shrugged. “It’s simple; we hang out and, if you want me to touch you, I’ll touch you. We’re just two adults having fun with an equal say in what happens.”

“Even when you give me rules to follow?” A shiver running up your spine as you remember the way he’d commanded and you’d obeyed.

“I told you, I like to be in control. But if it doesn’t work for you, there are no consequences.” He fell silent for a moment, the smirk on his lips seeming to grow. “Unless you want consequences.”

All you could do was nod, not daring to ask what kind of consequences he might have in mind.

“I have a rule too,” you dared to say.

“Oh?”

“You can’t lie to me.”

Clearly he hadn’t been expecting that but he quickly conceded. “That’s fair. As long as you follow my rule, I’ll follow yours - even when you’re in bed with your vibrator.”

Your heart almost stopped and your cheeks started to burn with embarrassment.

“How did you -” you could barely get the words out, completely mortified.

“You moaned my name,” Billy continued, not in the least bit embarrassed. He’d heard you across the penthouse. “All I could think about over dinner was how wet you must have been and the way you moaned when you came.” His hand moved to your cheek, making sure your gaze didn’t drop in embarrassment. “It’s been a long time since I’ve jerked off, but listening to you had me coming all over my hand.”

Biting your lip, embarrassment and shame filled you, but Billy still wouldn’t let you look away. His thumb grazed your lip and left you speechless.

“Don’t be embarrassed,” he told you, “those toys are yours to use whenever you need to, as long as you remember that your orgasms are mine now.”

You weren’t used to anyone being so candid but, you had to concede, it was exactly what made Billy the best person to help you experience new things. He knew what he was doing and he wasn’t shy about what he wanted.

“I’m not embarrassed,” an obvious lie that Billy decided not to call you on. “Things like that just aren’t exactly acceptable where I’m from.”

“Was that your first time pleasuring yourself - or was it your first time using a vibrator?” He asked, sounding like he was enquiring about something utterly mundane.

“Using a vibrator,” you answered, trying to swallow the lump in your throat.

“Well, you never have to feel ashamed of doing anything that makes you feel good while you’re here,” he told you with enviable confidence.

“Like Dorian Gray?” You offered with the smallest of smiles.

Billy let out a huff of laughter. “Does that make me your Lord Henry?”

“Only if you plan on leading me astray,” you answered back.

“Oh, little hummingbird,” he smiled, leaning towards you, “you’ve got no idea.” Before you could answer, his lips were on yours again.

Minutes ticked by with his lips on yours, enjoying everything about the moment, about him. When he finally pulled away, you let out a content sigh, smiling as he brushed a stray strand of hair behind your ear.

“So, this rule of yours... I take it you have a question, something you want me to answer honestly?”

You were quiet for a moment, trying to find the right words. “Have you ever done this before, with someone living here like me?”

“No, not like this,” he answered instantly, and it was good enough for you.

As he pulled you close again, you found yourself yawning, exhaustion catching up with you. Billy checked his watch.

“Looks like I’ve kept you up past your bedtime,” he joked, sitting forward and helping you to your feet. “We can continue getting to know each other tomorrow night, if you’d like.”

You nodded, barely even noticing that the pair of you were moving until you found yourself at the door to your rooms. His weight shifted from left to right, and you knew without looking that he was still hard. Your fingers tangled with his sweater at his waist and, for a few seconds, you just looked at him. Billy gave you a smile before pressing his lips to your forehead.

“Goodnight, little hummingbird. And remember, I’ll know if you break the rules.”

Biting your lip again, you nodded, and finally pulled yourself away from him and slipped through the door.

End Note : I never know what to say after the spicier chapters so... hope you enjoyed this and it lives up to expectations. Thanks so much for all the genuinely lovely comments and feedback over last four weeks, I'm loving how much people seem to be enjoying this story!! Hope you all have a great weekend!

Let me know if you'd like to be tagged in future chapters! If tagging doesn't work for some reason (aka Tumblr being dumb) I post most Fridays around 7:30 gmt. (Note: Tumblr is currently being stupid and only letting me tag five people at a time, so I'll be tagging people in the comments. Sorry if you get tagged twice!!)

Tag List : @vaguekayla @thdcre @rensolodriver @house-husband-of-castlemurdock @snowkestrel @danzer8705 @noortsshift @aoi-targaryen @lincerad @vxnity713 @readerinsertsaremyguiltypleasure @dreadfulxives18 @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes @glamourbabe17 @sweetserendipity65 @damagelove @strangerfromketterdam @a-starrynightwith-u @readingabouthim @countryday @weepingwitchofthewest @broadwaybabe18 @bunnygirlwriter876 @oliviaewl @rosey1981

#billy russo #billy russo x reader #billy russo fanfic #billy russo x female reader #the punisher #billy russo imagine #(ob)ts ff

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icallhimjoey · 1 day

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tubelift!joe was a sweetheart & reallllly wanted to find out what happened after they went separate ways !!!

jfc it's been a whole YEAR since tubelift!joe, thats insane! but here you go, have some of him! its only short, but hope you enjoy! (a/n: this story will make little sense if you've not read between floors and feelings) Wordcount: 1.8K

---

Funny Story, Actually

It had been ages, but you could still sense it every time. When you'd get onto the tube together, Joe's shoulders would tense as he'd look around the car, scanning his worried eyes over every single person there.

It was just to check. Just to settle something inside of him that was a little impossible to settle, you thought.

You remembered being one of those people, but witnessing it now, knowing what you knew, traveling through peak hours with him was hell.

You noticed how his knuckles lost all colour as he tightly held on to a handrail overhead, his lips all tight, his jaw clenched.

He looked hot.

But that wasn't the point.

"Hey," you poked Joe softly in the side to get his attention. "Did you say you had been to this place before?"

You knew he had been, but it was an easy way of distracting him from trying to make eye-contact with everyone, which he only did just in case he could see something there to worry about.

It literally helped no one, you knew.

"Oh, yea. Couple of times. You know how there's places that exceed your expectations every time you go? Very rare, that. This is one of those."

You smiled. He'd told you the exact same thing about four times, using a different way to describe how much he loved this restaurant each time.

You'd happily listen to him tell you again and again.

"Yea? What did you have last time?" you asked, softly, because not many others needed to hear you ask, or hear Joe's answer for that matter. To be fair, you didn't even need to hear it. You just needed Joe to step out of his tube-anxiety. It was only one more stop.

"Um, I had..." Joe narrowed his eyes for a second, thinking. And then, before he even remembered, he realised what you were doing. He let his breath escape him in a chuckled sigh and reached for your hand. Gave the tube car a last glance before fully turning towards you and giving you a silly face.

"You're a menace."

You scrunched your nose at him, knowing glances shared.

Joe kept hold of your hand when you got off the tube and made your way towards street level. When you were lead into a corridor of which the dead end just held the stainless steal doors to two lifts, you gave each other a look before turning around and finding another way out.

Absolutely no way you were risking it.

Ever since that one night, neither of you had ever stepped foot inside of a tube lift again.

You'd rather race each other up the Cover Garden tube station steps, all 193 of them, than get into an underground confined space like that again.

Even after the one you'd been stuck in had been fixed.

Even when you were in a group and your friends would go for the lift.

You'd go, "Loser gets the bill tonight!" and set off running up the steps, hoping you'd beat the elevator. You rarely did. And even after a while, it would still leave you out of breath. But getting a little exercise would forever win it over having to pee into a water bottle, so it was fine.

You'd take the stairs.

You easily found escalators that time, and you both went to stand on the right to let the system take you up. You turned around and let Joe curl his arms around your waist for a moment, tilting his head back and smiling up at you. It made you swipe at some worry lines that were permanently etched into Joe's forehead whenever you were underground before leaning down to give him a small kiss.

You beamed big smiles at each other, and you weren't sure what prompted you to join the crowd on the left side of the escalator, but you were quick as a flash as you stepped to the side and started bolting your way up the moving steps.

Joe followed just behind you, and you laughed as you felt him try to hold onto your coat in an attempt to keep up.

Happy.

There was just something about knowing you'd make it up and out without getting trapped for hours, you know?

After you touched-out, Joe turned to you slightly out of breath and said, "Maybe we need to start using car service to go places, because–"

"And give into the fear?" you scoffed. "Come on," you held up an arm and humorously flexed a non-existent bicep. "We're stronger than that!"

And you truly believed that, but you felt every single bit of strength leave your body when you got shoulder-checked hard enough to slam the air right from your lungs.

"Ahh," you immediately winced, spinning on your feet from the clash. Joe's hands were quick to find you, steadying you and preventing you from stumbling and falling.

"Sorry, so sor–..." a throat got cleared. "Sorry..."

The woman who had just roughly knocked half her body into yours looked down at her feet as she slung her bag back onto her shoulder, and, oh, my God, you couldn't fucking believe it.

"Linda."

Your former boss.

You sounded more surprised than anything else, because this was something you had dreaded for a while. Running into her. You'd heard that your ex-boyfriend had gone and moved in with her after he'd moved out of the studio you had shared, but that it had only lasted for a couple of weeks.

Served her right, you thought.

"Oh my God. Hi, I'm– sorry. I'm sorry. I hope I didn't hurt you?" Linda let a polite hand hover in front of your shoulder - the one you were still holding onto yourself - and gave a regretful smile.

Linda did hurt you.

A little now, but a lot before.

You know, back when you found your boyfriend making out with her in her office and you learnt from you colleagues that the affair had actually been happening for a while but they'd been too afraid to tell you because she was their boss too.

Vile wench of a woman.

You'd gotten your revenge though.

You still weren't proud of it, but... if you could do that night over again, the only thing you would change is that you would make sure you'd actually empty your full bladder into her bag that time.

You gave her a blank stare and then let your eyes drop to her bag.

Holy shit.

There was no way.

"I'm fine." you said coldly, but kept your eyes on her bag.

She saw, and it made her shuffle a little awkwardly

"Good. Okay, good. Sorry. I'm in a rush. We should catch up, soon. Sorry, again." Linda finished her sentence as she ran off, and you stared at her as she tapped-in with her phone and then disappeared down an escalator.

Huh.

Wow.

You felt weirdly okay about all of that, unexpectedly so.

You were definitely not going to be catching up with her soon, though.

When you turned to Joe, he gave you a worried little smile.

"There you are."

"Huh?"

"I asked you a question. Are you okay?"

You blinked up at him and realised you were stood in the middle of a busy bit of tube station. It was the exact wrong place to stand still, so you were quick to move with the crowd. Joe followed, hand on the small of your back.

"Who was that?"

"Oh, sorry. Um. That was Linda. She used to be my boss." you couldn't help the laugh that escaped you. "Remember my boss? How I caught–"

"I do." Joe cut you off, no need to repeat the painful story. He had remembered it fine from when you'd first told him, dirty wedding dress and crackling intercom as the background noise and all.

But tonight wasn't about awful memories.

You were about to have dinner with some of his friends - ones you'd met just once in brief passing but had never had a proper conversation with, and Joe was excited. You were going to love them, and he was sure that they were also going to love you.

"Wow... that was... that was weird. She fully crashed into me."

"Yea it was quite the collision, you nearly fell over."

"I'm okay." you assured him you were fine. The clash of shoulders had only hurt for a second.

Joe reached to hold your hand and threw you a warm smile as you made your way down the pavement.

"That's good."

"I think..." you started, eyes narrowing as you tried to remember. "I'm not joking, but I think she was carrying the bag that I... you know."

Joe's eyes bulged at you as his smile grew.

"What?! No way."

"That was the bag." You knew for sure. Kind of hard to forget the bag that you squatted over to piss right into. "I hope she got that professionally cleaned though, why the fuck would she even– wait, why did she keep that?"

Joe laughed at your outrage. He agreed though.

"Maybe she never noticed." he reasoned as you reached the restaurant. His reasoning made you frown at him though because, "Joe, I pissed over everything she had in there, there is no way she didn't–"

"All right, all right, keep it down, will you? This is a nice place." Joe laughed, helping you out of your coat as the host asked if you had a reservation.

Linda.

You couldn't quite get over how weird it was to be running into her in the tube with Joe there. It was almost kind of funny.

It felt like a weird full-circle moment, especially because you knew that whatever she had taken from you hadn't worked out for her in the end. Lost out on a star-employee (you) and on a mediocre boyfriend (your ex).

Maybe the bag was a good reminder for her.

Maybe it kept her grounded.

You had no idea.

The loud greetings from Joe's friends who were already there snapped you out of your thoughts. The restaurant was nice, and Joe's friends were lovely. It was nice to get to know Joe better through other people, but you kind of forgot that you were also a whole new person for others to meet. A person to ask questions about.

You weren't sure why you hadn't anticipated anyone asking the most obvious question you could be asked, but it nearly made Joe choke on his first sip of his drink.

"So, how did you two meet again?"

Joe looked at you over the table after making sure he didn't have any wine dripping down his chin, pursing a smile before giving you a tiny nod.

Joe's friends looked between the two of you, confused eyes darting back and forth because clearly they were missing an inside joke, or whatever.

Before anyone could ask, you cleared your throat and said, "Funny story, actually..."

---

The Taglisted

@ali-in-w0nderland, @alwayslindie, @babybluebex, @capricornrisingsstuff, @chaoticgood-munson,

@choke-me-eddie, @demonsanddemogorgons, @did-it-work, @dirtyeddietini, @djoseph-quinn,

@dolcevit4, @eddies-puppet, @emma-munson, @emotionaldreamer, @everythinghasafacee,

@figmentofquinn, @ghost-proofbaby, @ghostinthebackofyourhead, @hanahkatexo, @harringtonfan4,

@hazelenys, @jewellethief, @joesquinns, @keikoraven, @kennedy-brooke,

@lovelyblueness, @manda-panda-monium, @mandyjo8719, @mexicanfolklore, @munsonluvrr,

@munson-mjstan, @nadixq, @nglharry, @notverywise, @pepperstories,

@phyllosilicate-s, @royale1803, @sherrylyn0628, @sidthedollface2, @solzi1420,

@songforeddiemunson, @sweetberry47, @take-everything-you-can, @thebellenouvelle, @tlclick73,

@werepartnersnow, @winterwakesthewolf, @witchwolflea, @yelyahcardella, @yunirgo

taglist currently full, sorry

#joseph quinn #joe quinn #joseph quinn x you #joe quinn x you #joseph quinn x reader #joe quinn x reader #joe quinn fanfic #joe quinn fanfiction #joseph quinn fanfic #joseph quinn fanfiction #between floors and feelings #tubelift!joe #funny story actually

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gachagon · 2 days

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I don't think Kaiser and Ness would be good together

Which is why i think about their relationship constantly despite that, i love these freaky little soccer dudes and their obsessive codependency

If there's one ship in bllk that I absolutely adore the content for and think about constantly besides Kunigiri, it's Kainess. And it's not because I think "Oh they'd be such a wonderful couple" or "They look good together", this is one of those ships where if they ever got together I feel like they'd actively make each other worse because they have so much internal stuff to work on alone first, you know? And just thinking about that potential train wreck of a relationship is enough to keep me entertained for weeks on end.

I've said before that Kaiser and Ness are a Bachira and Isagi parallel in that they show the toxic bad sides of a codependent relationship, but I think there's more to it than that. Like Kaiser and Ness are reliant on each other for both ego and attention, but they're also both deeply lonely people at the end of the day. Even in the scenes where it's just the two of them, they never let up the act of trying to surpass everyone and be at the top.

They have no silly banter or back and forth, even in this panel Ness looks more like Kaiser's personal servant than his friend or partner.

Where as everyone else in the Blue Lock compound has some healthy way of destressing after a match, these two weirdos (affectionate) sit in dark rooms and watch the same matches over and over again while plotting like saturday morning cartoon villains on what to do next game. I mean, even Itoshi Rin has a destress activity he does that's NOT soccer related that helps him not morph into some soccer obsessed monolouging freak, so to see these guys just constantly always planning and thinking and practicing it really puts into perspective how much of the time that they spend together is them not having a fun time casually. And if you compare what they do on their down time with what the other "partners" in Blue Lock do, this difference becomes even more apparent.

And I don't know, I find that to be a really interesting aspect of their relationship just because even though they are so clearly missing all of the key elements meant to make a healthy partnership, it still works on the field anyways because they're both equally obsessed with the same thing. Kaiser loves football and wants to be the best. Ness want's to see Kaiser become the best because he loves football. Their devotion to the game drives them closer to one another, but it's clear only one side holds any real "affection" for the other directly outside of the game.

Now, I do NOT think Kaiser hates Ness which I think people assume if you say "Kaiser doesn't hold a lot of empathy for Ness, or cares for him" that it translates to "Kaiser hates him".

I think Kaiser keeps Ness around because deep down he knows that at the end of the day the only person who would be willing to follow him even if he couldn't become the worlds best is Ness. And I think that's because Ness loves soccer in a different way than Kaiser does. To Ness, soccer is a really magical sport and one where amazing things can happen. And Kaiser is the only character who has done the most insane feats in the manga so far. Kaiser does things on the field that seem impossible until he pulls it off, which is the whole crux of his ego anyways: Making the impossible, Possible.

So as long as Kaiser plays that way and does all of the amazing things he's been doing, Ness would follow him literally anywhere because that's what drives him.

But Kaiser is different, it's clear that to him soccer/football is not something that is grounded in the fantastical, but something that's tangible and real to him. He takes it seriously even if he goes about it in the most dramatic and campy way possible. Looking at old chapters of Blue Lock when Kaiser was first introduced is so interesting to me because I forgot about Kaiser's whole "king" attitude where he pretty much talks and acts like some nobleman with a crown and scepter.

He even makes Ness "bow" to others or makes Ness physically lower than him like a king does with some peasant. You could chalk it up to him making Ness "apologize" in the Japanese way by also bowing, but I don't think that's why he does it just because his entire character is just so "king" coded.

It's worth noting that he also makes Ness "bow" whenever Ness seems to lose any kind of faith in them winning. Which is why I don't think the above two times was him making Ness apologize, but that its something he does to ground himself or make Ness fall more in line with how he's thinking at the moment. Notice how he seems to only do it when Ness isn't sticking to the right "script" or seems to show the wrong reaction openly etc.

But anyways, Kaiser and Ness love soccer but they don't love it for the same reasons and that is what ultimately conflicts with their relationship in the end. That, and they've both got their own issues to work out.

I feel like if they did ever get together, it just wouldn't work because in order for it to work, Kaiser has to first realize that he can still be an amazing player and have people regard him as the best without obsessing over where he sits in the rankings. That he can perform things nobody else can and never will and that is the thing that will separate him from the rest of the crop, not a trophy saying "Number 1" on it.

Maybe before when they first met things could've worked out well, but even still I think Kaiser was dead set on his goals of becoming number 1 long before he ever met Ness. We will definitely get to see the extent of that next week for sure I hope, when we learn more about Kaiser's past.

#kainess #micheal kaiser #alexis ness #bllk #blue lock manga #recent chapters had my brain churning out thoughts on kainess

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ro-is-struggling · 9 hours

Text

Dark Side of Me || Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: The plan you and your friends had come up with to celebrate your 21st birthday was simple: go to as many bars as you could in one night and stay out of the hospital. You weren't a big fan of it, but everyone had done it and now it was your turn. However, things went off the rails quickly and you ended up being dragged to Heroes, a superhero-themed strip club. You thought it was a bad idea, until you met the cold, piercing blue eyes of the Winter Soldier and simply couldn't look away.

Or the one when reader gets her first lap dance

Warnings: stripper AU, stripper!bucky x innocent!reader, suggestive tones, lap dance (I tried really hard), no actual smut, alcohol consumption, reader giving in to peer pressure, fem reader

English is not my first language

Word count: 4400

Notes: I watched magic mike the other day and apparently I am now obsessed with stripper aus. The movies have a softer side that I wasn't expecting but I loved it and that's the vibe I'm trying to recreate here. If you want to understand some of the dance moves I'm trying to describe here you should watch the movie! I tried really hard with this one (describing dancing is waay harder than I thought so I hope it makes sense)

I’m open to writing more of these two, so let me know if you’d like that and don't hesitate to stop by my asks/messages if you have any ideas!

tagging: @asgards-princess-of-mischief

What had started out as a night of celebrating your 21st birthday quickly went off the rails and turned into something completely different. The plan was to get wasted —legally this time—, visit a couple of bars and get home before you ended up in the hospital. You weren't usually a party and alcohol lover —you just went to have a good time with your friends—, but you recognized that your 21st birthday was an important event that deserved to be celebrated. Besides, your friends had assured you that they would behave themselves and that things would not get out of control -well, not that much at least.

In hindsight, you should have figured that wouldn't happen. Although nothing could have prepared you for ending up at Heroes, a strip club your friends had apparently been to before. You tried to say no at first, but you were a little buzzed and you'd never been good at saying no to your friends anyway, so eventually you agreed. The place was exactly what you imagined and completely different at the same time, if that made sense. Dark, loud and warm, but much nicer than you expected. The dim lights gave it a very intimate feel, highlighting certain spaces with red or purple lights that made it look aesthetically pleasing to the eye. The music played loudly, trying to drown out some of the shouting of the women throwing bills onto the catwalk where the dancers performed their routines, but it wasn't anything you couldn't handle.

From the moment you settled at your table, a sort of strange sisterhood was generated between you and the groups of women seated in your proximity. Similar to bumping into a stranger in the bathroom at a party and reacting as if you were lifelong friends, you quickly engaged in casual conversation with the group of women at a bachelorette party to your right, and the one celebrating a divorce to your left. You complimented each other's outfits, shared a few drinks, and screamed with all your might in unison every time a dancer approached your side of the stage —or made quick eye contact with one of you. It created such a pleasant and fun atmosphere that for a moment you almost forgot where you were.

It stopped being nice and fun though when your friend came up with the idea of paying for a private dance and you had to face the force of a group of women pressuring you to accept. You had made the silly mistake of letting one of your friends know that you really thought the dancer who called himself the Winter Soldier was cute. You hadn't been able to take your eyes off him during his routine. And since that was the most interested you had ever been in any of the dancers, your friend thought it would be a good idea to treat you to a private dance.

“What am I supposed to do locked in a room with him?” You panicked as your friends dragged you to a more private area of the club to wait for your gift.

“I don't know, enjoy, I guess?” She laughed, practically pushing you into the arms of the man waiting to lead you to the Winter Soldier. You wanted to snap at her, but you kept silent, embarrassed by the stranger's presence. The last thing you needed was to make an even bigger fool of yourself by looking like an innocent, prudish fool.

But the problem was just that. You were a silly, innocent, prudish young woman that didn't have the slightest idea of what to do in a situation like that. You could feel the sound of your heartbeat pounding in your ears, drowning out the screaming and the bass of the music that was getting farther and farther away. Your stomach was turning with nerves as you sat waiting in the chair in the center of the room, just as the man had indicated before disappearing behind the door. Your hands rested awkwardly in your lap, your body immobile as you contemplated your options —perhaps if you remained completely still, he wouldn't be able to see you there, it was dark after all.

You thought about running away from there. You were alone, the dancer had not yet appeared and the hallway was dark, you would probably be able to sneak out without even your friends noticing. You would send them a text later explaining everything, when you were out and away from their clutches so they couldn't drag you there again. But when you went to get up, you found that your legs didn't respond. Only this time it didn't feel like it was part of the nerves you were having at the thought of what was about to happen.

You discovered then that a part of you, hidden behind a lot of shame and fear of the unknown, was curious. You wondered what it would feel like to be in a room alone with him, what it would feel like to have him touch you —even in the lightest, most subtle way—, to have him press his body against yours as he had done on stage with a lucky girl in the audience. You'd never experienced anything remotely similar to that, you'd barely shared make-out sessions with your ex-partner that weren't particularly memorable-not in the way the Winter Soldier's dance was for you. You had the movement of his hips burned into your memory, the image of his flexing muscles popping up every time you closed your eyes. You wanted more of him, even if you couldn't bring yourself to admit it.

The sensual rhythm of the music that suddenly began to play brought you out of your thoughts. You looked up and there he was in all his glory. He was wearing a different outfit, a simple tank top and loose-fitting sweatpants. The tactical suit and mask that covered half his face in his routine had probably been left forgotten in some basket behind the stage, but you didn't mind. You could see more of him now, the real him, and you liked that. It felt more intimate, more genuine.

He could sense the nervousness in your voice when you told him your name. You had trouble maintaining eye contact with him, your eyes lingering for a full three seconds on his figure before returning to your hands. Your fingers fiddled with the hem of your flowy dress. It intrigued him. He had worked with flustered women before —it was more common than one might imagine—, but there was something about you that stood out. You looked so out of place there, with your innocent look and shaky breath. Everything about your body expression told him that you wanted to curl up in a ball and pretend you weren't there. Everything except a slight glint in your eyes that he almost missed as quickly as you looked away from him. It would be his challenge to get that side of you to come out.

“That's a beautiful name,” he said in a soft voice. You smiled, but your eyes didn't search his, focusing instead on the red light shining on the wall behind him. So he leaned in front of you, settling down to your eye level so you couldn't escape. “I'm Bucky, by the way, and there's no reason to be nervous around me, princess.”

Your face warmed at that affectionate nickname and a tingle spread through your body. It had been a while since the last time someone had called you that. You liked it, it made you feel special even if it came from a stranger's mouth.

“Why did you come here tonight? You don't seem like the type of woman that frequents these places.”

“I'm not! I'm here because my friends thought it'd be a good idea... a fun way of celebrating my 21st birthday.”

“Oh well happy birthday then!” Bucky gave you a smile and you thought that was the best present you had received all day. “Are you having a good time?

“Yea-yeah, I am.” Your voice was soft, almost inaudible. Bucky got the impression that you were embarrassed to admit that out loud.

“Are you uncomfortable, y/n? Do you want to leave? Cause I can give you a full refund and let you go right now if that's what you want.”

“No!” you were quick to say, big eyes staring at him for the first time since he had introduced himself to you. “I'm just a bit... scared, I guess. I've never done anything like this before. Actually, I've never done anything for that matter.”

You didn't know what prompted you to confess to Bucky —a complete stranger who danced and stripped for a living— your complete inexperience in sexual matters, but you couldn't turn back now. You supposed it was to be transparent, though there was no reason for such a thing. It wasn't like you were there to have sex, he was just going to dance on you for a bit and then you'd go back to your normal, boring life.

“Well, then I have to let you know that you are in full control here.” Bucky spoke in a soft tone full of understanding. His cold, piercing blue eyes softened, showing a warmth that helped calm your nerves a bit. “I do have a routine, but if there's something that I do that you don't like you can just tell me and I'll stop, okay?” You nodded, biting your lip as you felt the tingle of anticipation running through your body. “Good! Are you ready?”

At your nod, Bucky got up from the floor to press play on the music. Suddenly, the silence was filled by a soft, sensual beat similar to others that had echoed through the club throughout the night. He approached you with a slow pace, his eyes never leaving your face, studying your expression. Then he took one of your hands in his and rested it on his chest, still covered by the thin fabric of his white muscle shirt. You couldn't help but notice how much bigger his hands were compared to yours. You could barely see your fingertips as he wrapped his hand around yours, trapping it against his chest. His calloused fingers didn't let go as he slowly guided your hand down, allowing you to caress his chest as he rubbed small circles over your skin. It was such an intimate touch for the situation you were in, that for a moment you forgot he was a stripper who did this for a living.

The air caught in your throat, your heart pounding against your chest as your hand traveled lower and lower. You could feel the firmness of his abs under your fingers and the heat emanating from his skin. It filled you with anticipation, with need. You wanted to feel more of him, more of his body and his touch. More of his warmth and the intoxicating scent of his cologne. But before your hand reached his waist, he pulled it away. Your eyes shot up to his face, waiting patiently for Bucky to give you instructions to proceed.

He removed his shirt and as soon as the fabric touched the floor, his hands were on yours again, trapping them against his chest. Bucky liked the way you let him guide you, closing your eyes as you enjoyed something as simple as the feel of his skin under your fingers. He was used to dealing with more... confident women. They knew what they wanted and weren't afraid to demand it. Their hands were always everywhere, touching his crotch without hesitation every chance they got. But you were different. You didn't know what you wanted —what you were missing— and you were willing to let him show you. He enjoyed the slower pace, it was a nice change that allowed him to try new things. So in a way, you were both experiencing something different there.

Your eyes suddenly widened as you felt the fabric of Bucky's sweatpants brush against your fingers. Your face heated up, embarrassment taking over your expression. But he didn't let your hand slip away, on the contrary, he pushed it a few inches lower and made you cling to the elastic of the pants. He gave you a cheeky smile before he started moving to the rhythm of the music. His hand didn't let go of yours as he positioned himself in your lap, grinding his hips against yours with an experience that shouldn't have surprised you.

Bucky fixed his eyes on you as he danced, keeping you in a kind of hypnotic trance from which you could not wake up. Your eyes followed his, your body responding to his movements without a single complaint. He trapped you between the chair and his body, one of his hands clinging firmly to the back of the chair while the other traveled to your cheek. You leaned into his touch, enjoying the warm caress of his fingers. His face came so close to yours that you could feel his breath mingling against your quickened breathing, his nose brushing against yours. For a moment you thought he was going to kiss you, so you closed your eyes, letting the euphoric sensation of desire consume you.

But suddenly, Bucky rose from your lap. You couldn't contain the whimper that escaped your lips, a protest at his devastating absence. Although he wasn't completely gone, you could feel him at your back, his hands caressing your neck, his nose inhaling the scent of your hair. The ghost of his lips traveling from the sweet spot behind your ear to your collarbone, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. He wasn't even kissing you and you were already experiencing things you had never felt before in your years of relationship.

With a graceful and sensual move, Bucky is once again on your lap, trapping you against the chair. He wasn't putting his full weight on you, but enough for you to feel it as he moved his hips. Your eyes traveled south, curious about the bulge that the sweat pants still hid. You'd never seen one before — well, outside of biology and health classes— and you'd never felt the urge to do so. But the way Bucky was moving on you made you wonder about things. You heard him let out a chuckle and looked away in embarrassment, knowing you'd been caught.

“You can look,” Bucky whispered in your ear, sending shivers down your spine. “That's what I'm here for, doll.” He stroked your arms, his fingers traveling slowly from your shoulders to your wrists. Then he took your hands and placed them back on his bare chest. “You can touch too, I don't mind.”

The desire traveling through your veins made you feel more confident this time, so you didn't need Bucky to guide your hands down his body. They acted at their own accord, fingers slowly tracing the defined muscles of his pecs and abs. You weren't yet comfortable going below his hips, so once you reached the edge of his pants you changed course to his back. Down, up and back down, your nails drew light red marks on his skin as he moved in your lap. You didn't even realize what you were doing, you just knew you liked hearing the sounds that escaped Bucky's lips when you accidentally applied too much pressure.

The lowest your trembling hands dared to go were his thighs. Bucky could see in your eyes the desire to go further —to brush your fingers over his bulge or squeeze his ass—, but shame and fear stopped you. You were trying so hard to keep your composure, to behave like a lady, but you couldn't fool Bucky. He knew what you wanted, even when you weren't ready to admit it. He saw it in the way your eyes darkened with each passing second and in the way your breathing became more and more erratic. The innocent, good girl shell you had when you entered the room was cracking, allowing your dark desires to come out. Bucky probably shouldn't find that so exciting, but he did. He couldn't help it, watching the innocence slowly leave your eyes, knowing that he was the one corrupting you, was a sight to behold.

Your lips curled into a pout of protest as Bucky rose from your lap, already missing the heat of his body pressed against yours. It was only for a moment, but to you it felt like an eternity. And he was counting on it, playing with the anticipation as he made a show of taking off his pants. This time your eyes lingered on his tight boxers for longer, though he could still see a flash of embarrassment as you crossed glances with him. It was driving him crazy, in the best possible way. He wanted to remove that innocence from your expression, to corrupt you past the point of no return. It was his personal goal, the challenge he had quietly accepted the moment he discovered what you were. And he was willing to win it.

Bucky dropped to his knees in front of you, his eyes never leaving yours as his fingers traced your legs. Your chest rose and fell with your quickening breath, your whole body buzzing with anticipation as you felt the gentle caresses moving from your ankles to your knees. To your surprise, his fingers continued their path up your thighs, though they stopped just below the hem of your dress. You resisted the urge to tangle your fingers in his hair as you felt him spread your legs slightly apart —enough for him to fit between them, but not enough to leave you too exposed to his eyes. And then the caresses over your body returned, only this time it was the ghost of Bucky's lips that sent shivers across your skin.

His mouth wasn't actually touching your thighs, but he was so damn close that you could almost feel his lips caressing the soft, sensitive skin on the inside of your leg. A warm tingling spread inside you as he moved further up, getting dangerously close to your trembling center. And at that moment you felt no shame or fear —like you had felt on other occasions with past partners. On the contrary, you wanted more, your legs involuntarily spreading wider to give Bucky more room as the ghost of his lips traveled up your lower tummy and across your abdomen until they reached your breasts. And as your breathy moans became more and more audible, your mind was lost in dark thoughts, wondering how different it would all feel if there was no barrier of clothing separating your bodies or how his wet kisses would feel on the sensitive skin of your thighs.

You didn't have much time to get lost in the fantasy though because in a second Bucky was on his feet again, pressing you against the back of the chair as he pushed your legs up. He settled down on the edge of the chair, resting each of your legs on his thighs. His hands gripped the back of the chair once again, trapping you completely between the cushions and his body —or rather, his crotch. You were practically sitting on his lap as you shared the chair, and you could feel his cock pressing against your center with every thrust of his hips. He was hard and you didn't know how common that was, but you decided to believe it wasn't something that happened often. You liked to imagine that his body was reacting to you and not to the sexual nature of his work. He wanted you just as much as you wanted him.

Bucky's hips moved to the sensual rhythm of the music, thrusting against your center in a way that made you feel like you were losing your virginity at that very moment. It was too much, the fire inside you spreading with the speed of a forest fire. And at the same time, it wasn't enough. Bucky's hip movements, though intense, did little to put out the flames they had started. They were pulling you into a swirl of desire and need, bringing you closer and closer to your limit with no promise of real relief. It was frustrating, in a way, but also incredibly exciting.

Your eyes closed for a moment as you struggled to process the sensations that were taking over your body. You tried to focus on your breathing and the sound of the music, anything to keep yourself grounded. But every time you thought you had managed to gain control of your own body again, Bucky moved his hips and all you could feel was pleasure, all you could think about was him.

A moan escaped your lips. It was involuntary and you didn't even realize what you did until a few seconds later. You were ready to apologize, certain you had crossed some kind of line, but Bucky let out a grunt of approval. One of his hands traveled to the back of your neck, holding your head firmly as he pressed his forehead against yours. His fingers tugged on your hair lightly, but the pain didn't bother you. You were too focused on the shape of his lips to think about anything else. You needed to feel them against yours. You needed to know what it would feel like to be kissed by him. You needed Bucky to take everything from you, to show you everything you'd been missing in these years of loneliness.

“C-can you k-kiss me?” You didn't think before you spoke, you just expressed what your mind was thinking without any kind of filter. Your voice was barely a shy whisper, your lips almost brushing against Bucky's as you spoke.

He should have refused, the number one rule of his job was never to kiss the clients —you never knew what things you might end up catching. But when Bucky saw the desperation in your eyes he couldn't help himself. Your slightly parted lips were highly tempting. You were inviting him, giving him permission to ruin you. You needed it as much as he did, so he gave in, and damned the rules.

Bucky's lips felt soft against yours, though there was nothing soft about the way he kissed you. Just like his dancing, the kiss was intense and unlike anything you had ever experienced before. His lips moved expertly, knowing exactly what to do to turn you completely stupid. You let him guide you, merely reacting to the pleasure that only Bucky seemed capable of giving you.

His tongue caressed your lips and you moaned into his mouth, allowing him immediate access to further deepen the kiss. Your hands clung to him —one digging your nails into his bicep while the other rested on his leg—, desperate to find something to keep you grounded while Bucky showed you sensations you didn't know you were capable of feeling.

You were high on pleasure, trapped under his body, immobilized by his lips, enveloped in his warmth and the scent of his cologne. You didn't want to be separated from him anymore. You didn't want to leave that room. You felt as if Bucky's lips were what kept you breathing, as if you needed them to keep on living. You couldn't pull away. You didn't want to pull away. But unfortunately a knock on the door signaled that your time together was over.

“You're more than welcome to come back anytime.” Bucky winked at you before disappearing behind the door, leaving you alone in the room.

It took you a moment to collect your thoughts and calm your rapid breathing. Your heartbeat was still pounding in your ears, but you figured that would change when you had a chance to get some fresh air. Your legs almost gave out when you stood up, still weak in the knees after the spectacle you had witnessed. You felt a little silly having to take a moment to steady yourself. Bucky had gotten up and left without any trouble, and there you were, clinging to the back of the chair as you struggled to compose yourself so you could leave without your friends realizing the effect their dumb idea had really had on you. You were pathetic.

Gathering your last bit of strength you pushed past the screaming women until you found your friends. They were back at their table, enjoying the routine of a tall, muscular blond who, from what you had heard, called himself Captain America. He was cute, but you couldn't stay in that place a second longer.

“How was it?” one of your friends asked with a smile.

“I need to get some air.”

“That good, huh?” Said the other with a giggle. You rolled your eyes, grabbing both of them by the arm and pulling them up from their seats.

Amidst protests they agreed to leave with you and call it a night. As they made their way through the crowd they didn't miss the opportunity to flood you with questions, insisting that you give them details of what had happened and how it felt to have Bucky dance just for you. You refused to say anything, partly because you were embarrassed to admit the reality of what had happened, and partly because you still needed time to process the night.

However, as you were about to leave, one of the waiters who had served your table - a young man who had introduced himself as Spider-Man - grabbed your arm. At first you thought maybe you had forgotten something in your seats and he was being kind enough to catch you before you left. But when you turned to look at him you noticed he had nothing in his hands but a rose and a piece of paper.

“He sends you this.” The boy said, handing you the items and disappearing into the crowd.

He didn't have to tell you who they were from for you to know. A smile immediately graced your lips as you held the flower to your nose and inhaled. Then you turned your attention to the piece of paper and as you unfolded it you discovered that it was a note.

‘Happy birthday!

Call me ;)'

It read, and at the end was written a phone number that was undoubtedly Bucky's. Your smile widened, which finally attracted the attention of your friends. One of them took the paper from you before you could hide it and when you saw the expression on her face you knew you weren't going to escape the interrogation. It was going to be a long night.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x fem reader #bucky barnes smut #(not really but just in case)#stripper!bucky #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x reader smut

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androideql · 11 days

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so... some downer news, but i don't think the requests are going to be finished as fast as I would have hoped.

#android talking #hey remember how my cat got a blood transfusion? alright #he apparently developed some kind autoimmune condition #which after all we did he ended up stable but he's not going to get better #more like he's going to get a little weaker everyday instead #so i really just mostly want to care for my cat right now since he doesnt seem like he's going to be around for much longer #and it might sound silly to people who don't have that kind of connection to animals but #the ones of you who do will probably understand #and for the ones who don't consider that i adopted this cat partially to lift my spirits not long after my grandmother died of cancer #so having to take care of a patient that will gradually lose weight and refuse food more and more again #has me in a sort of mental state that isn't the best #im having a hard time functioning is what im trying to say #and that includes doing the things i want to do #with that said i don't think everyone who requested something is following me #but im not really in a place to reach out to explain since well...#it's not like i'm doing this for money yknow? it would be different if it was commissions #thank god i don't do commissions...

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bylertruther · 1 year

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sorry sorry sorry his tiktok makes me feel like maybe it's okay to say this but. some of you looked mad dumb calling him the straightest guy ever when he literally wore a rainbow suit to the s3 release, wears pastels, wore a turtleneck with a titty window for gods fucking sake, and wears purses all the time. like what the fuck is your issue sorry but literally HUHHHHHHHHHHHHHH WHERE DID Y'ALL GET STRAIGHTEST MAN ALIVE ENERGY BC I KNOW IT AIN'T FROM MY BOY........

#SORRY. SORRY I AM SORRY ANYONE CAN WEAR THESE THINGS BUT . LETS BE FUCKING FOR REAL.#he did all of that and he's always been so CAREFUL in the way that he talks abotu will like he has always cared SO MUCH about his #story and what he represents and he's always spoken about him so eloquently about his alienation due to his sexuality and it's like.#you guys just always weirded me out with that shit #he did not put his entire soul heart mind and body into playing will byers and being his biggest supporter and being a sweetie #to those that see themselves in him and care about his story for u guys to say that.#he did not wear that rainbow suit and those purses for y'all to act like he's dwayne the rock fucking johnson be SERIOUS #HE'S JUST A SILLY LITTLE GUY HE'S JUST A DUDE HE'S JSUT NOAH !!!!!!!! AND Y'ALL WANTED HIM TO BE SOMETHING DIFFERENT #SOOOOOO BAD..... WHY? WHY YOU GOTTA TRY AND BOX US IN? MAKE IT MAKE SENSE I'LL WAIT

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taikk0 · 2 years

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JUST SAYING ONCE I LEARN TO PRONOUNCE MY T'S PROPERLY ITS OVER FOR YOU BUTTNUGGETS

#IVE ALWAYS PRONOUNCED T'S WITH MY TONGUE AND I HAVE NO IDEA HOW TO FIX IT ITS BEEN THAT WAY FOR SO LONG #BUT ONE DAY. I WILL PRONOUNCE MY T'S SO GOOD YOULL THINK IM A WHITE PERSON #WHAT SUCKS TOO IS THAT IM BILINGUAL WHILE ENGLISH IS MY FIRST LANGUAGE I SPEAK TAGALOG MOST OF THE TIME BECAUSE OF MY ENVIRONMENT SO I-#-HAVE NO PROPER WAY OF PRACTICING IT BC FILIPINOS PRONOUNCE T'S DIFFERENTLY BC OF THE LANGUAGE AND UNLESS IM IN AN ENGLISH SPEAKING-#-SETTING THERES NO WAY IM GONNA BE ABLE TO PRACTICE CONSISTENTLY 💔💔#even worse i slur over my words all the time. i have a stutter. i have VERY frequent voice cracks and when i try to suppress them i sound-#-ver odd. PLUS ADHD #idk if adhd might be one of the causes or of it gets added to the pile but dude i actually need help 💀💀#but another problem is i dont think anyone would see the point in it #i communicate just fine its just that i have so much trouble communicating verbally (vocally?) in a way that isnt unnatural and in a way-#-that properly articulates what i want to say and how i say it. often i have so much trouble showing varied emotion to prove a point when-#-im referring or talking about something that isnt reactionary #LIKE DUDE WHY IS TALKING SO HARD 💔ALL PEOPLE CAN TALK WHY DO I HAVE TO SUFFER THROUGH ALL PF THIS THIS SUCKS #which might be why i prefer writing what i want to say bc unlike talking the way i speak has nothing to do with it. i get given time to-#-think. and with an adhd brain writing what you want to say is so much better because typing it out involves the conscious decision to-#-type it all out and it acts as a filter #BLEFGGGH SORRY I KEEP BLABBERING ON THIS WSS SUPPPSED TO BE A SILLY LITTLE POST IDK WHY I WENT HAM IN THE TAGS #anyways umm yeah i dont like talking. i like communicating and maybe socializing tho. but not talking. does that make sense???#there r also times where i straightup cant speak at all. i want to speak and i want to say things but my brain feels too busy or ig blank-#-but not empty and i cant form words or sentences and all i have are thoughts and feelings #anyways i think asl is neat and i want to learn it not just for my benefit but also for accessibility #also filipino sign language if im up for it #man there is something wrong w my brain 💀#mikyomix rambles #yeah this one was a true ramble but only in the tags

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mbat · 3 months

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dude its twice now that ive tried to play origins multiplayer minecraft servers that happen to be mandatory roleplay for some reason and its just wild that they like, want you to come up with a whole entire person before even playing, especially with worlds that feel... bare bones as fuck, from the information they give

like they give an origin story of the world and maybe like one or two sentences on the races or cultures, and then theyre like 'okay now give your character an entire in depth personality, backstory, family history, job, life goal, childhood dream, credit card number-'

like... with what info ?? with what basis??

the second one ive joined isnt as strict as the first one, seeing as i joined the minecraft server before i even realized there was character applications, and no one really paid me any mind at all or acknowledged me

but there was one i joined like 2 years ago that you had to get your application approved before gaining access to the server, and they direct you to their wiki for reading up on the world and stuff... but again, bare bones as fuck. and i exaggerated before slightly, but fully seriously they asked me 'oh, and where did your characters origin come from? their grandparents getting infected? how did they become this way' and its like. DUDE I DONT KNOW, WHO CARES. WHO WILL ASK ME THAT IN THE ROLEPLAY??? like where am i supposed to even get any of this shit from, the two paragraphs you typed about the world origin story??

i didnt finish the application because that was stupid and it wasnt worth it imo. shame, cause the custom origins were cool, but theres always other origins mods and servers

like... i guess other people work different from me, cause clearly these servers have people in them that somehow came up with functioning characters, but that aint me. if i make a character in a game, their personality and story comes to me while im playing, through their experiences and appearance and the choices im given in the world.

and also literally no one is ever going to fucking ask 'lol so how did your bloodline get mutated?'

#my post #mc #coming up with characters in video games is some of the most fun. like how ive been obsessed with my WoW characters lately ahghdhg #but i came up with those characters mostly through playing as them OR finding out about their racial history and culture through the game #or fuck. even through looking at the WoW wiki a bit for clarifications or even for information i otherwise couldnt get #and guess what! they actually describe things there! they have helpful information and go into detail about things!#they dont just go 'oh the gods got angry and now the world is a little funny silly'. they actually tell you the smaller things!!!!!!#im going to go nutso crazy #either the people making these servers dont have more in depth ideas about the worlds they want people to care about or #they just want to stay vague to be appealing or for all these different people to make more sense but its like #okay but at this point its literally. nothing. you made nothing. congratulations.#I FUCKING LOVE MAKING WORLDBUILDING OKAY IT MAKES ME MAD THAT THEY DO SO LITTLE AND EXPECT PEOPLE TO CARE #THE AMOUNT OF WORLDBUILDING IVE DONE. bitch i could make a roleplay server too. i wont for a few reasons though lol #no hate to the second server i mentioned. but like...hate to the first one. not hate as in send hate but hate as in i dont like them #like i want to tell them that they sound fucking stupid. but i wont #and of course i wont say names because that would be shitty but also i dont want them finding this and starting something #like im just complaining rn. not trying to start drama cause idgaf

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satoruxx · 5 months

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pairing: toji fushiguro x reader | 1.6k words summary: boyfriend!toji headcanons, fluff, soft!toji, grumpy x sunshine, he’s a simp but he’ll never admit it !! rheya's note: grumpy man being soft for the person he really loves? i’m here for it. mamaguro is literal proof that he can and will love !!

bf!toji who is silent with his care for you. he's not one to be open or dramatic about his feelings, but you bet he'll show them in actions. small, mundane things that could only be picked out under critical eyes—like quietly placing an extra mug of coffee next to you as you work, or being the one to walk closest to the street, fingers firmly clasped around your palm. if you point it out he'll just grunt, shaking his head with a quiet "keep walking" all while pretending to ignore your silly little grin.

bf!toji who isn't really the type to be big on words of affirmation, but huge on physical touch. you tell him you did well on a project at school or work and he just hums, giving you a little nod. he doesn't say anything else—doesn't really have to because the soft lingering pat on your head is enough to tell you that he's proud.

bf!toji who is an aggressive yet affectionate lover. if you're doing something and he's not receiving your attention he will come up behind you and put you in a headlock. he thinks it's an appropriate response considering how much he craves your attention and company—why on earth are you focused on something that isn't him anyway? so be prepared to have his heavy bicep playfully curling around your throat or slinging you over his shoulders at random times—it's his way of telling you he misses you. and if anything, he'll do it to hear you whine and attempt to shove him off.

bf!toji who will absolutely take your phone and change your lockscreen to pictures of him. every so often, you'll turn your phone on and see an entirely different picture—sometimes a picture of him at the gym, other times a picture of him blocking out his face—but it's always him.

bf!toji whose own lockscreen is always something that's related to you. he's sneaky with it, always stealing pictures of you when you're not looking. he's got a separate album with them—probably hidden behind a password because it's something only he should be allowed to see. but whether it's a snapshot of his hand intertwined with yours or a blurry image of you fast asleep in his bed, it's always you. because of course you’re the first thing he should be able to see when he turns his phone on.

bf!toji who, as cliché as it sounds, is exactly the type to go feral if someone's made you upset. and he's freakishly observant, noticing even a slight pinch of your nose or wobble in your lips—he's caught them all. whether you're just down or outright sobbing, he's there, standing in front of you with pure anger weighing heavy on his brows. and yet for all his rage he's nothing but gentle as he firmly takes your face in his calloused hands, muttering a strained "what the fuck happened?" as he forces you to make eye contact with him. his own eyes will dart over your features, searching for discomfort or any other emotion as you explain, barely holding back his own emotions because there's no reason on the fucking planet that you should be upset at all.

bf!toji who rarely says the words "i love you" not because he doesn't but because the words themselves don't hold all that much meaning to him. no he'd rather spend his time proving it to you than just saying it for the sake of saying it. but, sometimes if you pretend to be asleep long enough, you'll catch him quietly whisper the words into your hair, almost like he doesn't want anyone to hear it. don't even bother trying to call him out for it—he'll deny deny deny.

bf!toji whose eyes flutter when he lets you trace over his scars. not just the one cutting over his lips but the ones that litter his back and torso—battle remnants that he doesn't remember much of. he's always hated the look of them, indifferent to old memories of a much more chaotic time in his life. but when your gentle fingers graze over the raised skin he'll sigh, oddly quiet but yet so comfortable.

bf!toji who will drop everything if you need him. don't ever hesitate to ask him for things because you're scared of being a burden—he will yell at you (affectionately). you drank too much with your friends and can't get a ride? call him and he'll pick you up even if it's 4 am. you're feeling nervous about walking home from the convenience store even though it's only ten minutes away from home? stay put and he'll come get you so that you can walk back together. shut up about all that "it's an inconvenience for you" bullshit—he'll do it and that's that.

bf!toji who asks if you've eaten today, and when you answer with a sheepish smile he'll click his tongue, crossing his bulky arms over his chest and giving you a pointed glare. then he'll say "get your ass to the kitchen. c'mon, up." while hoisting you to your feet—most of the time he'll just pick you up and plop you on the counter himself.

bf!toji who wordlessly makes you something to eat, whether it's a quick snack put together with leftovers or an actual full meal. then he'll stand in front of you with the plate and demand you eat. even a slight word of protest and he's scowling, already holding up a spoonful while grumbling a low "don't wanna hear it. open up, kid."

bf!toji who hates when you fall asleep on the couch waiting for him to get home. his job doesn't allow for the comfort of a strict schedule, and he's told you this many times. but you're nothing if not stubborn, and he can only sigh heavily as he sees you dozing against the armrest when he pushes the door open late at night. he'll click his tongue quietly, hooking both arms under your back and knees to cradle you against his chest before walking to the bedroom. though some part of him is pleased, knowing that you seem to care about him enough to make sure he's coming home every night.

bf!toji who glares at anyone who even breathes in your direction the wrong way. some guy eyeing you while you're walking on the street? toji looks like he's ready to rip his head off. some "friend" of yours asking too many questions about why you're dating a man like him? well…if looks could kill.

bf!toji who pulls you into his lap when he kisses you, because he likes the way you fit into his space so perfectly. he won't ever admit how it makes him swoon when you giggle against his lips, instead choosing to tighten his grip on your hips and pull you closer to his chest.

bf!toji who enjoys watching you sit on the kitchen counter and swing your legs back and forth—finding it so unbelievably endearing that he ends up just standing in between your legs and burying his face into your neck. his lips will map chaste kisses across your skin, and he'll hide a wry smile as your quiet giggles wash over him.

bf!toji who will notice when you eye something at a store, whether it's a pretty piece of jewelry or a new sweater or whatever—he keeps note. and then weeks later, once you've forgotten all about it, he'll come home and drop a bag into your lap before shoving his hands into his pockets. when you open it and start gushing about how much you wanted it and how pleased you are, he'll huff and turn away, muttering a low "whatever, kid. 's not a big deal."

bf!toji who sees you upset about something, and loops his bicep around your neck and tucks you under his chin. to an outsider it doesn't look like the most comforting form of a hug, but it's toji, and he's secure and he's safe and he's all the comfort you need—a tight squeeze that grounds you in a way that you can't quite describe.

bf!toji who will never admit how interested he is in your gossip. his ideal way to destress after he comes home is to sit on the couch with you in his lap, your arms looped around his waist as you press yourself against his torso and tuck your head under his chin. and even though his eyes are trained on the tv, he has no clue what's going on—he's more focused on the drama you're spilling or whoever you're ranting about. and he makes it known too, occasionally asking "then what happened, baby?" and adding in a few sounds of disbelief. by the end of your rant, he'll be saying something along the lines of "what a fucking bitch," or "honestly he deserved that," and then asks for updates on the situation over the next few days.

bf!toji who silently watches you trace your fingers over the lines on his palms. you're blabbering about something, tucked against his chest as his other arm remains wrapped around you securely, but he's just focused on your hands. it scares him a little bit—the difference between you and him. his palms are calloused, rough with battle and death, while yours are soft, clean of the horrors he's determined to keep away from you. and a small part of him tells him he shouldn't taint you with all his faults, that you deserve someone more capable of loving than he is. but then he feels you brush your lips over his scarred fingers and he sucks in a breath, tightening his grip imperceptibly. even as he hides a half smile against your brow, he knows he isn't going anywhere.

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the-trans-dragon · 1 year

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#just a really specific rant: capitalism’s monopoly on Interest-Grabbing Characteristics #sometimes I almost say a phrase. and the phrase will be really concise and polite and perfect. and then I realize it sounds like an ad lol.#and so I’ll rephrase it—or just give up!—because i wince at the idea of sounding like an ad #in the same kind of way I abhorrently avoid Non-Harmful Behaviors that I #happen to associate with specific Harmful People. like even if the trait itself isn’t bad? I can’t cope with Resembling The Bad Thing at all #sometimes I notice this when I’m on the intercom at work. customers don’t notice announcements because most storewide #pages are for the employees—requesting service or something #so I wanted to say something a little Differently and a little Silly to try to grab the customers attention #(they were all waiting in line on one side of the store and didn’t notice registers on the other side too—so we are supposed to announce #that we have open registers and get the customers #out quicker etc etc) but I couldn’t think of an Attention Grabbing thing that didn’t sound like an ad! ‘Tired of waiting in line?#We have open registers to your left.’ but that sounds like an ad omg #there isn’t a way to phrase it that prevents it from sounding like an ad; or sounding like an employee page #if it doesn’t get their attention they won’t notice. if it does get their attention then it’ll sound like an ad.#I got in trouble for not making customers come to my register :/ I didn’t even see them because my eyes are bad and because our displays are #so tall that they obstruct view of everything #sorry for rambling #💜 I’m just grumpy at my job. time to go see my kitty kitty!!#sorenhoots

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rreids · 1 month

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PRACTICE RUN • S. REID X READER

fluff, based on a scene at the end of 1 x 04 , going on a platonic date with spencer (for him to know what it's like) that becomes very real, kissing, silly little facts (again, very loosely verified, read everything i say ever with a grain of salt), ~1.3k

“Spence?” You ask, glancing at the clock on your nightstand. It’s 10:30, everyone had left the BAU around 8 after finishing up paperwork on the latest case. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing is wrong, exactly,” Spencer mumbles. “You know how I went to that baseball game with JJ? Last week?”

”Yeah. You have fun?”

”Yeah. I mean, I guess.” He sighs. “I think Gideon meant for me to ask her out like a date,”

”Did you want it to be a date?” You sit up slowly, tugging your blanket over your knees and putting your phone on speaker so you can rest your cheek on your propped legs.

”No.” He pauses. “But I want to know how to ask someone out. In case I ever want to in the future.”

”Well,” you stretch and yawn a little. “Do you want me to explain it?”

”Would you?” You can perfectly imagine the way his face lights up from the way his voice pitches up alone.

”Of course, Spence,” you smile. “The best thing to do is make your intentions clear. Either have established that you like them, or make it clear when you ask. Try to ask them to do something, just the two of you, that is a shared interest between you two.”

He hums.

”For example, you like film viewings and stuff, right?” He mumbles a soft agreement. “So, it could be something like ‘Hey, I got tickets for this movie on — and then whatever day —, I was thinking the two of us could go. I’d like to see it with you.’”

”That easy?”

”That easy. Sometimes I like to say ‘it’s a date,’ when they agree, just to make sure they’re clear on my intentions. Never a bad idea to be explicit in your communication.”

”You go on a lot?” He asks curiously. “Of dates, I mean. You said that’s something you like to say,”

”Not recently, but in college,” you smile softly. “Not everyone was 16 when they were in higher education,”

Spencer chuckles. “You’re right. Are they any… fun?”

”You don’t know?”

”No one ever asked me out. Or maybe they did. I’m not good at that type of stuff. What do people even do on dates?”

”Talk,” you chuckle. “Enjoy one another’s company. Really, it’s just any old hangout with different emotions.”

Spencer sighs, voice petulant when he speaks again. “Emotions are confusing,”

”I have an idea,”

“What is it?”

”How about I take you on a practice run date? So you know what it’s like.”

”Isn’t that weird?”

”If you make it weird,” you tease. “It’s up to you. We’ll treat it like a date but go as friends, just so you can get used to that type of environment and its expectations,”

Spencer clicks his tongue, and you picture him pursing his lips in contemplation. “You promise I won’t feel weird?”

”I can’t control your emotions, Spence, but I promise to treat you like normal.”

He’s silent for a bit. “Okay.”

“Okay,” you repeat with a smile. “I’ll plan everything. Just tell me if you change your mind,”

.°. ݁₊ . ݁ ⁺₊

When you and Spencer finally have time, it’s when you’re off work for a day after a rough week in Montana. He’s dressed pretty normally, but he took more time than normal to try to tame his hair, and he’s fidgeting with the cuffed sleeves of his undershirt as you walk up.

“Spencer,” you call and he looks up, smiling nervously. “You ready?”

“What exactly should I be ready for?”

“I decided we should go to an aquarium. That okay?”

“We have a shared interest in fish?” He asks, incredulous, recalling you saying a date had to be something both parties liked. “It’s fish.”

“The information,” you poke his side. “You like learning. It’s cool, I promise. And you can even point at the ugly fish and say they look like me.”

Spencer tilts his head. “Why would I do that? You’re not ugly.”

You smile, unsure of how to respond. “Come on.”

He listens, and it’s a little awkward, him silent and studying you. There’s so much tension that you’re unexpectedly and uncharacteristically a little quiet, looking at the way the cyan lights in the tanks flicker and reflect in his eyes, making them into inky pools of brown, black, and bluesin the low lighting.

You realize he looks pretty… cute.

“Spencer,” you whisper, snapping him from his laser focus on a sign about knobbed whelks. “You’re meant to talk to me.”

“Sorry,” he whispers back. “I just—”

“Think they’re cool?” You ask lightly.

“Yeah.”

“You want to go see the otters?” You question, grabbing his hand in yours. “They hold hands like this when they’re asleep, so they don’t drift apart and lose each other.”

He stares down at your hand, mouth dropped a little as you dragged him. “Is that why you’re holding mine? So I don’t get lost or separated from you.”

“Yeah.” You grin at him and he smiles back, letting you pull him along.

The otters are cute, and he’s fascinated by them. “I never knew they were so vicious…” he trails off as he reads the sign, looking at one with big round eyes that stares at him through the glass.

“Maybe we can profile our next unsub as an otter.”

Spencer snorts. “Yeah, whenever we get a killer who throws their victims on rocks repeatedly. That’d be a signature.”

You smile and look at his profile in the glowing light.

“What?” He asks, shying from the intensity of your gaze.

“People normally look at the person they’re on a date — fake… date — with.”

“Do they always look this intently at them?”

“Sometimes,” you fix his collar where it’s flopped over a little. “When they want to kiss them,”

You trail your fingers from his collar over his neck briefly before dropping your hand, and you feel his pulse racing.

“Do you kiss people on fake dates? Or practice dates?”

“Most people don’t go on those, Spence. But normally, you ask if you can kiss the person — through body language or verbally, and kiss them.”

Spencer falls quiet, following you towards the sharks slowly before catching your wrist in a dim part of the corridor, and you can barely make out the way his tongue darts over his lower lip.

“How does that body language look? So I can identify it,”

Your heart races, and you step closer to him, breathing in the scent of his cologne. Your eyes partially close just from the anticipation. You let your hands rest on his shoulders, meet his gaze before lowering it to his lips and dragging it back on, curling your fingers on his collar. “Like this.”

Spencer swallows, and moves his hands shakily to your waist.

He waits for you to look at him, and then copies you, eyes falling to your mouth before sliding back up your face.

You kiss him and he startles a little, stiffening under you before sighing and awkwardly trying to match you.

His eyes shut instinctively and remain like that even as you pull back, cheeks so red you can see it despite the lack of light.

“I don’t know… how… to kiss.” Spencer mumbles. “I’ve read a lot, but you’d be surprised how little there is other than facts that roughly 60% of couples tilt their heads to the right to kiss, and that many recipients of kisses will tilt to the right if the person kissing them is doing—”

You kiss him again.

“Later, Spencer. We’re on a date.”

His eyebrows shoot up. “A real one?”

“Unless you kiss everyone you hang out with, yeah,”

“No, no, I don’t.” He clears his throat. “But did you know it’s—”

“Safer than shaking hands when it comes to the amount of pathogens transferred. I know.” You hold his hand firmly in yours. “Now we’re doing both.”

not proofread, like always. i'm trying to improve my characterization still so please forgive that it's still clumsy. i am also a stickler for cute awkward spence so. expect that too

#my works #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fic #spencer reid #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid scenario #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid imagine #cm spoilers #requested

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obae-me · 4 months

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Would He Peel The Orange?

(I hope this hasn't been done too much already, but I really wanted to do it) So, if you've been in the same internet circle as I've been in, you probably know about this trend that's going around right now where people ask their partner to peel an orange for them. It's supposed to kind of signify your partner's willingness to do something important to you, even if it seems mundane or even inconvenient for them. So of course, I wanted to imagine what our favorite boys would do in this scenario.

Note: This is just for silly goofy times. A little ha-ha funny jape, if you will. Meaning not serious. If I think a character would not peel an orange, I don't think they're suddenly toxic or would not love the MC or anything.

"Could you peel an orange for me?"

Lucifer

To those of you who say he is too prideful to peel an orange for you, do I need to point out that he is the eldest sibling? Not only that, but he's practically a single mom. He has Sloth as the baby brother of the family. Do you think Belphie peels his own oranges? No! Lucifer probably cuts the crusts off of his brother's sandwiches for heaven sakes.

Is it heaven sakes or heaven's sake?... I actually don't know

However, I do think he would get suspicious, especially if you're trying to film his reaction. He would raise an eyebrow and know that there's something more to you just wanting an orange. Is this orange cursed? Is this a prank? You'll have to convince him it's perfectly normal before he straight up refuses.

Is he going to get up from his desk or move away from work to go grab you an orange? Probably not. But if you bring it to him, he will peel it for you, giving you a weird- and maybe slightly judging- look the entire time.

He will peel it very nicely, but you would have to take the peel back to toss yourself all while demanding to know why you have such a smirk on your face.

If you explain it to him, he'll definitely get a bit smug. "Who knew all it would take to prove my love to you was peeling an orange? If you needed some assurance, I would've gladly provided more for you."

He wins this one. He peeled the orange.

But...he might be asking his own favor from you later. So, minus one point for that, but they do say the devil dances in dealings, so...

7/10

Mammon

"Huh? Why do you need me to peel it for you, your hands broken or somethin'? I'm not your damn maid."

He is already peeling the orange. He is somehow managing to grumble and act like he's not doing it while he is in the process of doing it.

And if you don't have oranges on hand? Just give him any excuse to go shopping and he will take it. And not only will he peel those oranges, he'll buy them for you too.

And sure maybe he's a little ditsy and might not know what the difference between an orange, a tangerine, and a clementine is (they're all orange, dammit), but he will be buying you ALL of them just in case.

Listen, he's a man with impulse problems and an intense desire to be your number one demon.

Did he probably spend the next few hours in the store getting himself stuff as well? Probably, yeah. He see shiny, he get shiny.

But don't worry. He will peel you that orange.

And you will be eating an assortment of orange colored fruits for the next few days.

Is...this a peach?

9/10

Levi

If he's gaming, probably not. Some games can't be paused. And it's not even that he doesn't want to, he'll probably be glad to do so, but he'll do it once this round is over.

And then he'll probably forget. Which, fair, I do it too. You get into the zone and then six hours have passed. Sometimes the measure of love can't always be held behind an orange.

However!

If a controller is not in his hand and his mind is not occupied by several random colorful flashes, he might peel the orange.

BUT

If too many other people are around, he might get anxiety.

You know when you somehow manage to fumble peeling an orange? You can't manage to break the peel properly or you end up dropping it and looking like a fool?

If you've never had performance anxiety over peeling an orange, you... well that's actually really good, you must have a much more peaceful mind-- but it exists for us anxious people, okay?! It's too much pressure!

In the end, he's very situational! But that doesn't mean he refuses to peel you an orange! It would actually make him very happy to do that for you...

5/10

Satan

Very confused. Will ask too many questions before he does anything.

Are you hurt? Is the peel too tough for human fingers? If you're having a hard time using your fingers, why not get a knife or a tool to assist you? Why are you in his room rather than the kitchen? Is that not a waste of energy? What if he'd not been here, would you have wandered around?

He doesn't get it. He means well though.

He might get a little irritated, not so much at you as at himself. He feels like he's missing something.

Is this some form of human bonding? Are you afraid of the orange? What secrets does it hold?

He will peel it for you. He'll even put his book down to do so.

But please answer his questions, he can't find the logic in seeking him out just to peel a fruit for you. He can list off several other more efficient methods.

If you explain it to him, you'll see him visibly relax. So there was some deeper meaning.

Although now he might think that this form of act is some sort of love declaration. Prepare to have him peel and/or cut all your fruits from now on. Which... is actually kind of sweet. What a gentleman.

8/10

Asmo

No... with his nails?! Please. I've only worn fake nails like twice in my entire life, and doing anything like that with those little suckers hurts like hell. Why?? Tried to open a can once and thought my real nail would peel right off.

And even if he's not wearing fake nails, getting that pulpy orange peel underneath your fingernails?! Having the juice make your fingers all sticky? No. Awful. Bad texture. I've always headcanoned Asmo with texture issues, and if his are even close to being like mine, it's gonna be a no.

BUT

If you want an orange so badly, I can guarantee he knows all these cute little places around town that make delicious fruit selections! He'd probably go out and get you one of those beautiful and decorative edible fruit arrangements and make sure they somehow include lots of orange.

Or, if you don't want that and you just want a normal orange right NOW, he'll charm someone else to peel it for you, hon. Don't even worry.

And once it's peeled, to make up for not doing it himself, he'll be all to happy to feed it to you if you want him to. ~

Never underestimate the lengths he'll go to provide for you and himself at the same time.

6.5/10 I appreciate the hustle.

Beel

I... I mean... he's gonna eat it.

Love the man to death, but if you hand him an orange before you fully preface that it's yours and you just want it peeled, it's gone. He probably didn't even peel it before he ate it too. Probably just eats it like an apple.

But, but, but, he'll get you a new one. So please don't look so sad...

It might be best if you accompany him just in case, but he'll absolutely get you another one. Besides, he wants more himself now, that first one was delicious.

He'll gather a whole basket of oranges and you can share them together.

One slice for you...five for him. Another slice for you...

It make take a minute to get a full orange's worth, but it's about the attempt and the time spent. And he's technically actually peeling SO many oranges for you.

I'd also like to point out that I have actually written out a scene in one of my stories where Beel actually EXACTLY peels an orange FOR MC. WAY before this trend was a thing.

--Eventually he came across an orange, peeling off the wax shell meant to serve as extra preservation. Citrus flooded your nose. Your mouth actually watered at the scent, watching Beel strip the fruit before peeling it apart. A sniff, and then it was actually handed to you.

So he would! 100 times over! Even in my silly little side story where everyone is nearly on the brink of death and in a freezing wasteland, he would still peel an orange for you!

10/10 Minus one point for eating your orange first, plus one point for peeling you an orange in another universe.

Belphie

Y...yeah, no. No, he won't.

Or there's at least a very slim chance he will. He does get in weird moods sometimes where he wants to pamper you, but that's on his own terms and his own time.

He doesn't even peel his own oranges, as I previously stated in Lucifer's section.

If you just waltz up to him and ask him to peel it for you...there's a 95% chance he will not. Most of it being due to him being asleep. You would probably have a better chance trying to train him to peel an orange while sleepwalking. That might work. Would also probably make a good party trick.

But, he's weird at remembering details like this. Even if he doesn't act on it right now, it will be logged in his memory. You could mention something briefly once seven months ago and he'll bring it up to you and remember the conversation completely like it happened yesterday.

So, even if he doesn't peel the orange now, when he's in the mood, maybe after his nap, maybe the next day, maybe two weeks after in which you had forgotten it, he will bring you a peeled orange.

Either that or he'll do what Asmo does and make someone else peel it for you.

3/10

Diavolo

You want him to peel your orange for you? You mean... he gets to treat someone like that for once?! ABSOLUTELY.

He is all too happy to peel you an orange! This is like, groundbreaking for him. He gets to provide! Gets to hand you a tiny fruit, broken and prepared with his own two hands! Is this how Barbatos feels when he cooks?

How does one exactly peel an orange, though?... He's seen them whole like this before, but they're typically already in strips when he gets around to eating them.

Break the skin? What, like an egg?

Well...there goes your orange.

On the bright side, it seems he's very good at making orange juice.

But fear not! He'll have Barbatos bring another one!

Wait...look, see, they come pre-peeled. Oh...you mean Barbatos has been peeling all his fruits for him this entire time? He's never known the joyful luxury of unveiling and working for the literal fruits of his labor?! This will change today.

Get another orange, unpeeled, and he will do it himself this time!

It might take some personal discovery and some patience before he peels you an orange, but it will get done, he swears it!

11/10 Plus one point for wholesome life lessons and sheer determination.

Barbatos

An orange? Just a plain orange? If you wait just a moment, he could have an orange chiffon cake, or would you perhaps prefer some orange panna cotta? Orange Merengue pie? Pound cake? Made into a buttercream? A pudding? A sorbet? A sherbet? Served as a juice? Main flavor or just as a zest? Would you like a meal before dessert? Or he could always find healthier options for oranges? Would you like him to list of those options as well?

Okay, so... he overcorrects a little bit.

Bottom line is, he'd peel you an orange. He'd make an entire seven course meal based around oranges. Make it all the color orange if you'd prefer.

Like I said though, he tends to overdo it.

He falls into his royal butlery habits and misses the fact that this is supposed to be so important to you because it's so simple. Although it's cute the way an ever powerful ever perfect being can miss such a detail.

You might have to put your foot down a bit and not let yourself get carried away in the splendor. You just want this orange. This one orange, and if he could just peel it for you, that's all you want.

So he'll take his gloves off and peel it for you. He'll make sure all the extra little white strands are plucked off as well. And he double checks it for seeds.

Are you sure this is all you want? "I guess something so simple can often be taken for granted. I forget that sometimes."

12/10 He'll probably still end up making you several other orange treats and he learned a valuable lesson today. It's a win for everyone.

Simeon

Are you kidding me?

This man probably brought the orange with him. You probably didn't even need to bring it up! He's single dad with two one kid and a sorcerer. He's like that sweet mom who always has certain things on hand. Medicine? Bandages? Spare cash? Candy? Gum? He's got it. He puts the Guardian in guardian angel.

You want that orange? He'll peel that orange, you just hold on. Let's make sure your hands are clean. Use this hand sanitizer he brought with him. Here, have a granola bar while you're at it. Are you hungry? You didn't skip lunch, did you? Here, take this water bottle, you look a bit dehydrated.

Oh dear, and your hands feel so dry! Here, he brought some lotion.

This angel is 100% fully here for you. You are about to be so taken care of.

Not even oranges. You want your apples fully peeled and sliced? Got it. Want something pitted? He can do that too. He'd be willing to stain his fingers and clothes on a pomegranate for you. How is he doing this even outside of the house? Magic or something probably.

He'd pack you an orange in a cute little bag with a hand written note and a short poem.

This man is a real one.

100/10 He definitely thinks that LOL means lots of love.

Solomon

Are...you sure you know what you're doing? He will absolutely peel you an orange, but at what cost?

If you're not careful, not only will he peel you an orange, but he'll add some of his Special Solomon Spices to make your experience all the more... thrilling.

Quite like how thrilling bungee jumping in the dark could be...

Also, he might just try to peel it with magic, which, while nice of him, defeats the purpose of the entire test.

You'll have to specify he's to do it by hand, and keep an unblinking, ever-careful eye on him to make sure he doesn't 'enhance' the flavor.

But, all in all, he does it. Quite happily too, one might add.

Are you sure you just want an orange? He'd be glad to whip something up for you if you're feeling peckish!

You kind of... tempt fate with this one.

2/10 One point for wanting to peel the orange, one point for trying to go the extra mile. But... well... Will you survive is the thing? You might want to try to measure his love for you using different non-edible methods.

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me nightbringer #obey me headcanons #obey me imagines #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me levi #obey me satan #obey me asmo #obey me beel #obey me belphie #obey me diavolo #obey me barbatos #obey me simeon #obey me solomon

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schizopositivity · 8 months

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Hearing people throw around the words "delusional" and "delulu" so often when they clearly don't know what it means is so silly to me at this point, but also a little frustrating.

Like I heard someone in a video say "she's the worst type of delulu, where she actually is in a different reality" while describing someone being cocky and overconfident.

As a reminder, delusional means someone is holding a belief or altered reality that is persistently held despite evidence or agreement to the contrary, generally in reference to a mental disorder. Delusions are typically beliefs that exist outside of objective or common reality (so not something subjective like "this art is good"). It is often unshakeable, people can't be talked out of their strongly held belief even if it is completely nonsensical. They typically cause a disturbance to your life, unlike a spirituality or religion that you enjoy.

So someone saying "I'm the most attractive and most talented person in this room" might be annoying, but it is that person's subjective belief. It's your subjective belief that they are not, but neither is right or wrong because it is subjective.

Having a crush on a celebrity and wanting to marry them and imagining that happening is a conscious choice, it's a daydream. Meanwhile delusions are not conscious choices, it is a symptom a person has whether they want it or not.

It's important to uphold the true meaning of this word, because it describes a mental condition that impacts many people. Having the words definition change by making it mean other things does harm us. If we want to open up to a friend about a serious mental problem in our lives by saying "I have delusions", that person should know the gravity of that, and not think it's some fun quirky personality trait that everyone has.

Also the way people misuse the word tends to be in a negative or insulting way, aimed at the delusional person. But delusions dont indicate anything about the delusional persons personality and morals. The delusions are caused by a mental health problem and not chosen by the person. This is important to remember when people have strange, mean, self centered, taboo, or scary delusions, it doesn't mean that a person wants to believe that, they can't control it.

So please try and use the words "delusion" and "delusional" correctly, don't give it a cute trendy nickname like "delulu". And try and educate the people around you about the actual meaning of these words, and the impact of misusing them.

#delusions #delusional #delulu #mental illness #nd #schizophrenia #neurodivergent #schizophrenic #psychosis #actuallyschizophrenic #mental health awareness #pseriouslypsychotic #mental health #delusional disorder

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luci-in-trenchcoats · 2 months

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The Husband Effect

Summary: The reader is struck with a love curse that leaves her feeling more than a bit attached to Dean...

Pairing: Dean x reader (eventual)

Word Count: 2,200ish

Warnings: language, angst, love curse, fluff

A/N: Y’all don’t even want to know how old this fic is. Pretty sure it was written during S13. Figured it was time for it to see the light of day!

__________

“Y/N. Y/N. Giggling woman,” you heard Dean say, clapping his hands together. “Hey! Focus.”

“She’s cursed Dean,” said Sam with a smile. “It was some harmless witchcraft. It’ll wear off soon I’m sure.”

“Is she currently trying to climb into your lap? No?” said Dean, pointing at where he was continually shoving you back from him. “Y/N, stop it.”

“I wanna sit with you,” you whined, throwing your arms over his shoulder, nuzzling your cheek against his.

“This is weird,” said Dean, trying to scoot away, Sam biting back back a laugh. “A little help, Sammy!”

“So she’s a little extra clingy. We’ll put her to bed, she’ll sleep it off and in the morning she can be completely embarrassed about this whole thing,” said Sam.

“Why would I be embarrassed about my Deanie?” you asked, squeezing him harder, Dean rising to his feet.

“Come on, Y/N. Off to bed with you. Now.”

“Good morning,” said Sam to you with a teasing smile. “Sleep well?”

“Like a baby,” you said, giving Dean a big hug when he came in the kitchen. “Good morning!”

“Oh no,” said both boys, grimacing as you smushed yourself into Dean’s chest.

“Get the jaws of life for this one,” said Dean, trying to squirm away while you clung tighter. “Y/N, please let go of me so I can eat breakfast.”

“I’m sorry,” you said releasing him, moving your hand down his arm to hold his hand. “That was silly. Your arms are huge by the way. All muscle and strong. They’re so...mmm.”

“Uh huh,” said Dean, giving Sam a death glare. “Sam, your harmless little curse don’t seem so harmless right now.”

“She should have slept it off,” said Sam, taking a seat at the table, Dean pulling you over into one, resigning himself to the fact he wasn’t getting the hand you were holding back anytime soon. “It must be a different curse.”

“No shit. Figure it out for me, would ya? It’s weird having Y/N act all...cuddly,” said Dean.

“Well, she is a girl, Dean,” said Sam.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” asked Dean, your head resting on his shoulder.

“It means she likes hugs and you know, human affection...like a normal person,” said Sam. “You treat her like a guy sometimes.”

“Again, what does that mean?” asked Dean.

“It means when you tell her to buck up and kill the damn spider herself, she comes and asks me to do it. Or when you don’t help her with heavy stuff. She’s tough, don’t get me wrong, but I get the feeling she doesn’t think you care about her nearly half as much as she does you,” said Sam. “...Maybe that’s why she’s only sticking to you. It’s got something to do with that.”

“Y/N,” said Dean, your head lifting up with a smile. “You know I care about you, right?”

“Of course you silly boy,” you said with a smile, bopping him on the nose. “I love you different than Sammy is all.”

“See? She knows,” said Dean, giving you a smile that made your heart flutter.

“You’re so pretty,” you said, Sam rolling his eyes.

“Hey, Y/N. Why don’t you eat breakfast and then Dean can spend the whole day with you while I figure out how to fix you, huh?” asked Sam.

“The whole day with Dean? That sounds amazing,” you said, leaning up and giving Dean a kiss on the cheek.

“Please hurry Sam.”

One Week Later

“I want Dean,” you grumbled as Sam brought your dinner by your room. “Please? I need him.”

“Dean’s researching right now, Y/N,” said Sam, locking up the door behind him, spotting your barely eaten lunch. “You need to eat, Y/N or Dean won’t be happy.”

“Why do I have to stay in my room? I’m not doing anything wrong,” you said, Sam sighing as he took a seat.

“You’re making it hard to research out there, Y/N. You...you’re kind of all over Dean,” said Sam. “He’s not used to attention like that and it’s making him uncomfortable.”

“But you love him and you get to be near him,” you said, scrunching up your face. “Tell him I’m sorry. I’ll do whatever he wants. I just want to see him. Please.”

“Sweetie, it’s the curse that’s making you all nuts for Dean, you have-”

“I always liked him and now that I came out and said it he’s scared of me. Tell him I take it back. I’ll really try to be better,” you said.

“If you eat your dinner, I’ll talk to Dean about coming to see you, alright?” asked Sam, watching as you grabbed your fork. “Good girl.”

“Hi,” you said when you saw your door open, a pair of green eyes peeking in. Everything in you wanted to hop off the bed and run over to give him a hug but you said you’d try to keep it under control.

“Sam said you wanted to see me,” said Dean, hanging by the doorway, watching you start to fidget. “You’re shaking.”

“I’m fine. Are you okay? Can I do anything for you?” you asked, leaning forward and clenching your hands into fists.

“Just give me a hug before you have a heart attack,” said Dean with a sigh, your body responding before your brain, up and over to wrap him up in your arms. “Better?”

“No,” you said. “You don’t like it.”

“I’d rather have a hug because it’s real, not forced,” said Dean, moving your arms away.

“It is real,” you said, cocking your head up at him. “I want to hug you.”

“No, the curse is making you think you want to hug me,” said Dean with a smile. “There’s a slight difference there, sweetheart.”

“But I love you. Everything I’ve said or done, I always want to do,” you said. “I just...don’t have a filter to say ‘don’t do that anymore.’”

“It’s a curse and we’ll solve it, alright?” said Dean. “I don’t want you to get upset about it. We’ll figure it out and get everything back to normal around here.”

“Dean,” you said, moving forward again, Dean already with a hand on the door.

“I promise, Y/N.”

“I don’t know why it didn’t work but you shouting at me doesn’t fix it!” yelled Sam, both boys in the middle of screaming at one another as you sat in the library, doing your best to stay in your seat.

“It’s been two weeks, Sam. Look at her. She’s barely keeping it together,” said Dean, waving over in your direction.

“If I was under a love curse and the other person resented me, I might start to get upset too, Dean,” said Sam. You got to your feet, forcing them to move away and for your bedroom, your movements slowing as you hit the edge of the library. “See?”

“I’m just going back to my room, Sam,” you said over your shoulder, frozen in place with the need to stay near Dean.

“It’s got to be that spell. Figure out what you screwed up,” said Dean, his hand on your arm melting away your bubbling anxiety, replacing it with something soft and warm. Dean didn’t immediately leave when he got you back in your room, instead laying down on your bed, turning on your TV and throwing an arm behind his head.

“What are you doing?” you asked, sitting down next to him, curling into his side with a smile.

“I miss you,” he said, moving his arm around your shoulders, a rush of relief flooding you. “...I’ll take care of you. I know it hurts and yeah I’m not used to all this lovey dovey crap but I’m going to help you through it. If letting you crawl all over me makes you feel better, we’ll do that.”

“Hey, bozos,” said Sam, standing at the end of your bed, stirring you awake. “I didn’t mess it up. It’s on a time delay.”

“Well,” said Dean with a yawn. “How long until it works?”

“Judging by the look on Y/N’s face, it already did,” said Sam. You were glancing at your lap, sitting as far away from Dean as possible. “Are you...”

“I want to be alone, please,” you said, Sam nodding his head and leaving. “You too Dean.”

“It’s okay, it was just a curse,” he said, rubbing a hand up and down your back. “Nothing to be embarrassed about.”

“I told you two weeks ago, Dean,” you said, turning your head over your shoulder. “I don’t love you and Sam the same way. It was a love curse, Dean. All I was trying to do this whole damn time was to make you feel loved.“

“I do feel loved,” said Dean.

“You don’t get it. This isn’t something I can explain to you, Dean. Either you get it or you don’t and you obviously don’t so please give me some space today,” you said.

“I get it,” said Dean, grabbing your wrist and spinning you to face him. “It’s been very clear to me since this whole thing started. I don’t want you to want me though.”

“You don’t get to decide that for me. It’s my life,” you said, trying to shake him off. “Dean...”

“It’s different when’s it’s staring you right in the face and you can’t run away, right? To know that deep down that what someone is saying is true?” he asked.

“If you got hit with that curse, what are the odds that everything you’re spewing out is bull and you do want me but are too scared to say it,” you said. Dean was silent, dropping your hands as you nodded your head. “So what do you want to do about this?”

“If you want to...try, I guess I’m cool with that,” said Dean, shrugging like you were discussing dinner.

“Cool with it?” you asked.

“I ain’t turning into a Hallmark card anytime soon,” said Dean, holding up his hands. “But...your hugs aren’t so bad.”

“Ah, yes. Your definitely wooing me, Dean,” you said, shaking your head.

“Y/N, I’m trying,” said Dean.

“I know. We’ll...take it one day at a time.”

One Year Later

“Hey, you guys remember that freaky curse that made Y/N stick to you like glue?” asked Sam at lunch one day.

“Yeah,” said Dean. “What about it?”

“Well...I translated another spell that references it,” said Sam. “It was used back in the day to help men find wives.”

“That seems like a douche move,” you said, leaning back against the wall, tossing your legs in Dean’s lap.

“No, no. Not like that. It was meant for when a guy loved somebody but was too shy or insecure to say something. If the person didn’t have a reaction, they didn’t feel the same way. If they did, then it sort of proved there was something there,” said Sam.

“It took you a year to find this out?” you asked, Sam shrugging. “Why do I feel like you’re lying Samuel...”

“You know, we never did find out who put such a strangely harmless curse on Y/N either,” said Dean, crossing his arms. “You wouldn’t happen to know anything about that, would you Sammy?”

“Not a clue,” he said with a smile, glancing back at forth. “Weird, right?”

“I’ll get my fiance to kick your ass you ever pull something like that again,” said Dean.

“I’m really good at kicking ass,” you said, Sam shaking his head.

“I got no idea what you guys are talking about,” said Sam, standing up with a stretch. “I think I’m going to go for a second run while I think about who could have ever done this to you two.”

“Want to destroy him later?” asked Dean, wearing a smirk once he was out of earshot.

“Of course. Not too badly though,” you said.

“Just a touch of destruction for our devious Sammy coming right up,” said Dean with a chuckle. “While we’re at it, it’s been a year since our first date tonight.”

“You got something special planned?” you asked.

“Obviously,” he said. “Mess with Sammy first though?”

“You read my mind.”

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erwinsvow · 3 months

Text

𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐫𝐞 𝐧𝐢𝐜𝐞, 𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐲

summary: hiding your relationship with rafe from your friends is fun... at first.

word count: 2k

now spinning: freak by lana del rey

author's note: this one put me in a silly mood <3 i love this man <3 so cute it'll rot your teeth! enjoy!

He’s a bad habit. Your worst habit, in fact, one that you hide from everyone like a dirty secret.

At first you’re just embarrassed. You’re supposed to be a Pogue, you try to remind yourself every now and then, you’re supposed to hate him and everything he stands for.

You’re supposed to hate the pretty jewelry he buys for you on a whim, hate the stupid—or something like that— look in his eyes when he puts it on you and presses a kiss to the soft skin of your neck or wrist or ankle, and you’re especially supposed to hate the way he spends money on you.

You’re supposed to hate all of it, but you don’t. In fact, you think you’re falling in love with Rafe Cameron.

Which is bad, so so bad, you don’t even have words to describe how terrible it is. Rafe—who your closest friends despise, and for good reason. He becomes an ass outside of the sheltered, private walls of your tiny bedroom, getting into fights and egging everyone into violence.

He’s completely different, like an entirely new person, and you should hate him for what he does to your friends and goads them into doing.

Hate is the furthest thing from what you actually feel. You’re not even embarrassed anymore. You’re protective, because you know your friends won’t understand, that they’ll try to talk you out of your feelings, and you’ll have to show them the thing that you’re dreading the most of all, that you would defend Rafe to them. That you would take his side.

That you would become that girl you used to make fun of, screaming at your friends because you don’t know him like I do, and then running home, running to him, to feel better.

It’s gotten bad, and to avoid all of this, you don’t bring up your relationship to them at all. What started off as chance encounters and graduated into quiet, peaceful hours spent in each company without another care in the world, has now turned into a real relationship. A secret relationship, at that.

Rafe wants to tell the world, and he especially wants to tell your friends. You convince him that it’s romantic to sneak around, with plenty of hidden kisses and longing gazes and making a fool out of everyone right in front of their eyes.

He buys the act for now, but you know he won’t for long. You think that he wants to rub it into your friends’ faces, that he got you despite how much they hate him. He doesn’t tell you it’s because he has to know, has to be sure that you aren’t ashamed of being with him.

𝜗𝜚

The first time you almost get caught is in Rafe’s truck—parked along the beach, in what was meant to be a cute little date. You pack sandwiches and fruit, freshly squeezed lemonade in a mason jar that you and him pass back and forth.

The two of you watch the sunset from the safety of his car, specifically because you’re worried your friends will catch you if they spot you on the beach with someone.

“This is good,” Rafe says, taking another sip out of the jar, his lips shining with the sugary juice. You want to lick it clean, but you hold off for now. “Where’d you get it from, again?”

“I made it, Rafe,” you reply, rolling your eyes. “We have a lemon tree in the backyard. My parents like to grow their own stuff.”

“Well,” he says, licking his lips. Damn it, there goes your chance to sneak a kiss in and act like it was for some other reason. “You should make more. Shit’s good.”

“Then take me on another date. I’ll make you a whole pitcher.”

“Our next date is gonna be way better than this,” is his response, looking down at his half-eaten, heart-shaped peanut butter and jelly sandwich.

He notices your eyes get big, like you’re upset, and immediately follows up his own sentence.

“Not that this isn’t perfect,” he says, resting the mason jar in the cupholder. “It is. Perfect. Couldn’t ask for more. I just meant, next time, you won’t have to pack anything or juice any lemons, like a restaurant. All you have to do is wear something pretty and show up.”

You smile, giddily.

“You have some lemonade, right there,” you say, pointing to the side of his lip, leaning in for a kiss, just about to close your eyes, when you hear the unmistakable hoot that is your boys, as in your other boys. “Shit-” and you duck, head resting on Rafe’s thigh as you try to get out of their eye-sight. You don’t sit back up until you make Rafe triple-check the coast is clear.

“Y’know, if you wanted to get freaky in my car, all you had to do was ask-”

𝜗𝜚

The next time is a month later, a month of bliss and joy that you still haven’t told your friends about. Rafe came over to help you finish baking lemon squares, but really just creating a mess and kissing you with sugary, citrusy lips and flour-coated hands.

You take turns showering to clean off, because as much as you would love to rinse off together, your shower is not like the one Rafe has in his Tannyhill bedroom, and sadly, barely big enough for one. You go first, washing your hair and complaining about icing remnants, and send Rafe in after you while you dry your hair.

On his way in, he tells you not to get dressed just yet. You sit in anticipation, wrapped just in your towel, brushing your hair absentmindedly. You drop the brush on your foot when you hear three sharp knocks on your bedroom window.

Crap.

When you turn to look, it’s just Kie, and you sigh a breath of obvious relief. You wouldn’t be able to manage lying to everyone, but if it’s just Kiara, you might be able to get away with it.

She climbs in through the window, lying flat on your bed and starting to explain what’s going on—her feelings for Pope and some old feelings for Jayj that are coming to the surface. You half-listen, feeling like a terrible friend, but your heart is currently showering in your tiny bathroom, probably complaining about the luke-warm water and thinking about all the things he’s going to do to you when he gets out.

“Is your shower running?” Kie asks, ever-observant. “Dude, that’s like, so bad for the environment.”

“Oh, I-” your brain turns to mush. “I just stepped out to brush my hair, I’m going right back in. I’m so sorry Kie, I’m so distracted today. You know, I-I hate wasting water.” You stare at her for a second, wondering if she bought it.

“I’m just glad you care. JJ and John B don’t even recycle their beer cans. I’ll come back later, then?” and you nod, maybe a little too excited. “Are you gonna finish showering now?” she questions, watching you linger by the door.

“Yes! Yes, I am. Bye, Kie,” you say, opening the door and closing it quickly, hoping Rafe doesn’t speak up. You drop the towel and climb into the shower, clasping your hand over his mouth quickly. You wait to hear your window close, and then the noise of her car driving away.

“Y’know, kid, if you were feeling that impatient, all y’had to do was tell me,” Rafe says, leaning in for a hot, wet kiss.

𝜗𝜚

It all breaks down because JJ is like a walking metal detector, eyes flitting to anything shiny and new and the questions never-ending, even when you’re glaring at him.

Rafe bought it for you. A gleaming, pretty silver bracelet with a little pink heart hanging off, complete with the letter R engraved on the back of the charm. You try to sneak it in with your other bracelets, the beaded ones Kie makes, the thread friendship bracelets all of you share in matching colors, and you even throw on a watch just so no one notices something new on your wrist. It doesn’t work.

“Wow,” JJ starts, letting out a whistle. You freeze instantly. “What’d you do, rob a Kook and not invite us?” He comes up closer, taking your wrist in his hand and raising it above and below, inspecting it.

“No, no…” you trail off, mind going completely blank on how to explain this to your friends. All you can think about is the soft way Rafe kissed your wrist while helping you put it on, and the not-so-soft two hours you spent at Tannyhill after. “I, uh-”

“What, you found it?” Pope throws in, and you start to nod, even though your friends know you better than that. “Because you should really turn it in, I mean, they’ll get you for that-”

“Trust me, I would know,” John B says, coming around to look at it closer. “I feel I’ve seen that before.”

“Yeah, I bet all the Kook princesses have ‘em and compare with each other.” JJ puts on a goofy, high pitched voice that would normally make you laugh. “Mine’s silver. Mine’s gold. Actually, guys, mine’s encrusted with diamonds.”

“You know how much child labor funds the entire jewelry industry? They have kids mining in caves-”

“But that would actually make sense, Kie, because, like, they’re so tiny they’re the only ones who can just like, sneak on in there with their little tools, and just like-” JJ imitates, what you can only assume, is a child mining for gold with his hands.

“They can grow diamonds in labs now. It’s so unnecessary and dangerous,” Kie says, looking back at you. “We should burn it, so it goes back into the soil.”

“Woah, woah, woah,” JJ says, getting up and putting himself between you and Kie, like a barrier. “Why would we do that? We could probably go get a couple hundos for that thing. Y’know how much beer we can buy with that?”

“He’s got a point there,” John agrees. You’re speechless.

“Well, does it have any markings? Because if we just return it, the owner might give us a reward for finding it.” JJ scoffs.

“Yeah, right, they’d probably think we stole it.”

“Well, we did, that’s like the definition of-” you cut Pope off before you can stop yourself.

“I didn’t steal it!” It comes out like a yell, even though you don’t mean it, running a hand through your hair in frustration. “I didn’t steal it, okay, it’s mine, so can we please just drop it?”

You notice the boys lock eyes with each other, eyes wide, probably wondering what just happened. You turn away from them to look at Kie, about to apologize because you know she’s totally right about the whole child mining thing, when you see her eyes are fixed on your wrist.

“R?” she questions. “What’s the R stand for?”

You drop your hand to your side, eyes shutting on their own as you release a tight breath. You really have no idea how to get yourself out of this one, until a voice pipes up from behind you.

“Why don’t you idiots take a wild guess?” The voice belongs to your boyfriend, your secret boyfriend. You guess it’s not such a secret anymore.

JJ is the first to react, exactly like you thought he would, too.

“No, no, gross, gross!”

John B stares at you like you’ve just run over his puppy. Kie has her eyebrows raised like she’s questioning everything she ever knew about you. Pope’s eyes are wide like coins, fist clenched like he’s about to start swinging.

You let out another breath.

“Was that really necessary?” you ask, turning your head to question Rafe, standing right behind you, his arm hanging around your shoulder now.

“Had to tell ‘em eventually, kid. Guess today’s the day,” and then he uses his hand to squeeze your cheeks together, giving you a sloppy kiss and waltzing off in the direction he came from.All you hear is JJ—gross, gross, gross!

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #obx #outer banks #eeeee hope everyone likes!!!

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