#sometimes being out of my comfort zone is a good thing. i like how different cp's vibes are from the games i usually play

[rosenfey]

⊱ CYBERPUNK 2077 + photo mode — 1/?

[inuyashaluver]

Hey I absolutely adore your fics you are my favourite writer i was wondering if you could write a fic where reader has autism and there comfort person has always been there sister leah and best friend jen and nobody has figured out how to get through to them and they dont like meeting new people but thats until alessia arrives

she’s different - alessia russo

alessia russo x reader

description: in which your sister notices a complete shift in you when a certain blondie makes their way into your heart

warnings: a little long! swearing, timelines don’t make sense but i am just a girl

a/n: hiya, lovely! thank you for all the love and request, it truly means so much to hear i’m your fav, what an absolute honour!! i hope i did this justice, please let me know if anything needs to be changed or altered, i’ll do it in a heartbeat! much love to you, gorgeous, enjoy ❤️

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you and your girlfriend, alessia, had a very special relationship. the two of you forming a bond that no one could have suspected. the people closest to you were even shocked with how much you and alessia stuck together from early on.

—

you were a sports photographer, and a good one at that. you’d always had love for taking photos, one of your main subjects being your sister, leah who was always more than willing to let you take photos of her while she trained, or during games.

while both of your siblings were sporty, you always resorted to academics. you were incredibly intelligent, excelling in school, your whole family was extremely proud of you.

photography started as a hobby in the side of your studies but you grew a love for it when people assured you your pictures were extremely good.

—

you experienced the world a little differently. from a young age, you struggled to connect to the people around you that weren’t your parents, brother or especially your sister.

you always found social situations and connections confusing, your siblings knew you inside and out so why would you need anyone else?

you often found social situations overwhelming if you weren’t with someone you knew, struggling to make friends.

the simple things that came easily to people were often a struggle to you, like maintaining eye contact or understanding body language occasionally when you were under stress.

these things were a constant anxiety and frustration for you in the beginning, feeling like something was wrong with you.

and so, when you were 13, you were taken to a specialist and were diagnosed with autism. it was from then on, the world began to make sense. the amount of love and support your family offered you helped you through the challenges of growing up diverse.

you could solace in familiarity, not really liking to step out of your comfort zone without easing into it slowly. one of the people that understood this well was leah, leah was your rock, your backbone.

she offered you stability, comfort and support even if she was just sitting next to you in silence. leah made you feel safe and understood, never really pressuring you into anything you didn’t want to.

—

when you were in university, you were working part time with both arsenal and england as a member of their media teams.

being apart of both media teams was comfortable for you, leah introducing them to you and being relieved when you got along with them. though this was hard to do, you were an absolute sweetheart.

they understood that sometimes you just needed to work in silence, letting you do what you did best and it really showed through your photos and videos. so much so, as soon as you graduated, they both hired you full time with a permanent position in both teams.

you absolutely loved it, having the opportunity to do what you loved and not feel judged. during the time you worked with arsenal, you were introduced to jen through your sister.

jen understood you like leah, not pressuring you and actually making an effort to understand you. you got along with all of leah’s friends but jen was the one that stuck.

though it didn’t come easily, pretty much everyone you were introduced to required some patience to see the real you. but once they did, it was worth it.

—

you’d met alessia through your sister of course, not offering her much more than a hello and small talk about the weather or how you wanted her to pose for campaign pictures for england.

alessia always had a special appreciation for you, she not only found you absolutely beautiful but she really appreciated how genuine you were.

from the short conversations you had together, alessia always felt a little more at ease. when she knew she was getting photographed which was often uncomfortable for her, she was relieved if you were the one taking the picture.

you thought alessia was gorgeous and it was one of the reasons you distanced yourself from her. she was close with leah so you’d talk to her if you had to, blushing without even realising.

she was also one of your favourite canvases, always listening to your instructions with a soft smile.

your sister didn’t even know you found the girl attractive, the one time she wasn’t able to read you completely. everything changed when alessia transferred from manchester united to arsenal.

—

you’d just moved out from living with leah into your own flat, one of the scariest things you’ve ever had to do but leah and jen, before she moved helped you through it.

when jen got her new contract, your heart absolutely broke, you’d cried in leah’s arms for days after she moved and you decided you needed a change, that’s why you moved out.

this didn’t mean you didn’t see leah all the time, you did at work but she’d always rock up to your house with snacks in hand for a movie marathon or just to sit and chat.

you often called and facetimed but nothing beat seeing her in person. leah found it cute how happy and excited you got seeing her every morning, always making her feel special.

“hi, bunny!” leah smiled brightly (a nickname she gave you after your childhood bunny toy that you absolutely loved). she pulled you into a hug and you felt yourself go limp in her arms, she lifts you off the ground and you laugh brightly.

she hugs you tightly just the way you loved it, one of your stims that she knew calmed you down easily.

“morning, lee” you giggle when she swung you side to side for a moment before placing you on the ground with a quick kiss to your forehead.

“so miss photographer, what are your plans today?” leah asks you, hands on her hips as she looked down at you.

“well, we have a new transfer i have to shoot for, photos and videos” you smile, making leah smile too knowing how much you loved your job. “oo, do you know who it is yet?” leah says excitedly, hearing rumours of a transfer but not knowing who it was.

“no, not yet” you sigh, slightly nervous knowing you had to introduce yourself to a potentially new person.

“do you need me to come with you?” leah questions, her hand squeezing your shoulder gently. “no i’m okay,” you smile appreciatively, “my little sissy is growing too fast” she coos, pinching your cheek that you quickly slapped away with a scowl.

“leah, i’m 24” you scoff, crossing your arms over your chest as she continued to tease you. you both chatted back and forth before you got called by your coworker, gaining a little shove from leah towards her that you sent another glare at, making your older sister send you an exaggerated air kiss.

you and your coworker discussed the basics of the shoot until you finally reached the set, seeing a blonde getting fitted in the iconic arsenal kit.

“uh, hi, i’m (y/n), i’ll be shooting with you today” you say gently as you approached the girl, not wanting to scare her, the blonde turned quickly at the sound of your voice.

“(y/n)!” your eyes widen when she turns, “alessia?” you breathe out, the girl beams at you brightly, pulling you into a quick hug that made you tense a little until a comforting smell of caramel and vanilla easily made you feel at home.

you hadn’t seen alessia in a few months, that didn’t mean your heart wasn’t beating out of your chest when the girl locked eyes with you that you were quick to divert away.

you weren’t completely comfortable with her yet, so prolonged eye contact was out of the question.

“i’m so happy to see you, how have you been?” she grins, you nod at her, “i’m good thank you, and you?” sounding a little rehearsed, and it was, alessia made you shy.

she chuckles lightly, “really good, thank you, happy to be here” her smile was infectious, you couldn’t help the little grin playing at the corners of your lips.

you both lightly conversed as you prepared for the shoot, feeling yourself feel more comfortable around her in a way that surprised you, and alessia.

—

when you walked alessia into the gym talking and laughing softly, leah’s eyes were wide with shock. one, seeing alessia. two, seeing you laugh with alessia. three, both of you blushing like you’d just gone for a run, which she knew you didn’t.

leah scrambled up towards the both of you, pulling you into a headlock, “see you’re finally on the right side, less?” leah grins, smiling as you struggle in her grasp.

“leah! get off man!” you groan, alessia chuckles at your struggle, her hand gently grabbing your forearm, managing to pull you out of leah’s headlock.

her hand lingered for a moment before she let go, you sent her an appreciative smile before giving leah a shove on the shoulder.

“needed a change” alessia sighed, her and leah engaging in small talk while you just observed, looking back and forth between the two blondes and they laughed along with each other.

“so, did my sister treat you well?” leah teases, her arm wounding around your shoulder, you roll your eyes at leah, alessia sends you a soft smile.

“she always does” your cheeks go a little pink at that, feeling yourself cower a little further into leah that didn’t go unnoticed.

leah looked down at you challengingly but chose to dismiss it for now, you’d had romantic partners in the past but none of them really stuck. she’d seen you all shy and blushy before but never like this.

—

as the days and weeks went by, alessia was able to chip away at barriers you’d carefully constructed for years. she didn’t even know she was doing it, but what she did notice was you becoming more chatty with her, actually holding eye contact a little more than you usually do.

leah was completely shocked, in a good way, of course. all she wanted for her little sister was to be happy and from the looks of it, you were getting that.

“morning, lessi” you wave at her, alessia is quick to send you the wave back as she entered the doors at the arsenal training grounds, she pulled you into a quick hug,

“morning, (y/n/n)” she giggled as she pulled away, both of you falling into conversation as you walked alongside each other, you were photographing their training session today for socials.

when you both made it outside, you let in a sharp inhale, it was colder than you thought, alessia observed as your body shook lightly from the crisp air, shaking her head lightly at how you’d only worn a thin jacket.

she was quick to shrug hers off, draping it around your shoulders without a second thought. “lessi, no” you protest, trying to push the jacket back in her hands but alessia was quick to slip your arms through it and zip it up. “lessi, yes” she chuckles,

you pout at her slightly, “now you’ll be cold, lessi,” alessia smiles at you softly, “i’ll be running around, silly, i’ll be warm in no time” her arm around your shoulder as you still continued to protest her jacket, though you had to admit, having the smell of alessia flooding your senses was comforting.

“you really are a williamson, so stubborn” she teased, you laugh at that, nudging her with your shoulder as you both giggled.

leah watched the entire interaction with a soft smile, waving at you slightly and watching as you perked up at seeing her.

you run over to leah as she hoists you up in another hug, “so you have a sister?” leah teases, “uh, yeah, you?” you say a little confused, leah laughs loudly, pinching your cheek at your cluelessness.

“i know, bunny, i’m teasing you” she grins, “you and less have gotten really close?” your cheeks go pink at that, shifting the weight between your feet as you looked down, “she’s my friend” you say shyly, “are you sure?” leah whispers, dipping her head to look at you properly.

“i-i don’t know” you say softly, your sister pulls you into another tight hug, her hand rubbing up and down your back, “it’s okay, you’ll figure it out” you nod into her shoulder, moving away to set up your camera.

throughout training, you took photos of everyone, your photos always a favourite in the media since they always felt like more than just a photo, feeling like you always captured the person rather than the action.

you were sitting outside while editing the photos before alessia pulled up next to you. “hi, pretty girl, what’re you up to?” alessia watched as you tensed for a minute, glancing over at her quickly with a nervous expression that had her heart beating rapidly.

“oh, i’m editing” you clear your throat, getting nervous when alessia scoots a little closer to you to look at your computer screen.

she noticed you were editing a photo of her, and the sidebar was almost full of her pictures. her heart fluttered at the thought of you focusing on her, swallowing before glancing at you quickly.

“you look pretty in this one” you blurt out, immediately regretting it and pinching your nose bridge out of embarrassment.

alessia’s face was burning, muttering out a thank you as you both sat quietly for a minute before you both sparked another conversation to ease the tension.

—

“hi, gorgeous” alessia grinned as she arrived to england camp, sending you a little wink, “hi, lessi” you smile brightly, this time pulling her into a hug by yourself. she was pleasantly surprised, hugging you tightly and feeling you melt into her embrace.

“did you get here okay?” she says softly in your ear, pulling away with a hand placed on the small of your back as she walks with you.

“yeah, i came with leah” you smile at her, making the blonde smile back at you gently, “did you get here okay?” you ask back, she nods, her hand rubbing up and down your back, “mhm, better now that you’re here” she smiles, your cheeks dusting with pink as alessia’s eyes met yours.

“lee, i think alessia broke your sister” keira grins walking behind the two of you with leah and georgia next to her. leah chuckles fondly, “i think she’s got a little crush” leah whispers, georgia and keira make eye contact and smile,

“well alessia definitely feels the same, why hasn’t anything happened yet?” georgia questions, leah shrugs before giving them a warning glare, “let my sister figure this out herself, please” the two girls huff but nod, knowing you needed a little more time to come to grasp your feelings.

alessia’s arm wounds around your waist before she had to go to her room to unpack, “you know, we should do something just us two, we're in spain after all”

you look at her confused, “don’t you want to spend time with ella? you haven’t seen her in a while” alessia chuckles affectionately, shaking her head as she looked at you.

“you’re a little clueless aren’t you?” alessia grins, your face flushing, worried you just missed out on a social cue, a potentially important one.

you recounted the entire interaction between the two of you, picking it apart to see what you missed before alessia brought you out of your head.

“(y/n)” she said, leaning a little closer to you, “when i said just us two, i meant like a date, beautiful” she smiles, you were completely silent, mouth a little agape in the hotel lobby.

you were shocked, the thought of alessia returning your feelings making you extremely nervous. due to your prolonged silence, alessia grew nervous, her grip on you loosening.

“hey, if you’re not interested, that’s completely okay” she utters, “i won’t pressure you into anything you don’t want to do” she affirms,

“no! no! i’m very interested” you stumble on your words, “ i’d love to do something with you” you say softly, feeling like your body was on fire.

you began fiddling with the ends of your clothes, alessia’s hand moving it to hold your hand instead, smiling fondly at you.

“great, i’ll text you the time and meet me down here later?” you nod as she moved a loose strand of hair off your face, kissing your cheek quickly.

“okay,” you breathe out, her hand giving you a gentle squeeze before she moved towards the elevators making sure to smile at you another time before she really walks off.

“holy shit” you say in shock, running off frantically to try and find your sister, realising she was watching from the other side of the lobby.

“leah, help me!” you gasp, leah effectively calming you down while reminding you to breathe, “hey, slowly, what happened?” leah places both hands on your shoulders,

“alessia just asked me on a date” you whisper shouted, leah gives you the biggest, cheesiest smile, it made you feel a little uneasy.

“aren’t you supposed to be all protective right now, telling me she’s not good for me or something?” you remark, only making leah laugh, both of you knowing alessia was perfect.

“bunny, she’s perfect for you” leah admits, watching you shy away from her slightly, “really?” leah nods, giving you an encouraging expression that truly made everything feel okay.

“lessi has been flirting with you for weeks now” leah chuckles when your eyes grow wide, internally cursing yourself for not noticing the signs.

leah talked you through it, making sure you were completely comfortable before you went on the date.

—

you went on the date with alessia and to say you fell in love with her more every couple of seconds was an understatement. alessia was so gentle and genuine with you, patient and kind.

you had this girl in a chokehold and it was very much the same with you. alessia loved that she got to learn more about you, and she wanted to for the rest of her life so to speak.

for a couple of weeks, you and alessia went on dates every other day. the two of you growing so close, it truly surprised everyone around you. she asked you to be her girlfriend about a month later and giggled at how enthusiastically you agreed.

—

you’d been dating for about a year and things couldn’t have been better. everyone saw a new side of both you and alessia and it was incredibly endearing to see how in love you were with each other.

“bunny, alessia’s not the only one on the team you know?” leah teased as your lens was focused on alessia with an affectionate smile. “fuck off, lee” you laugh, taking a photo of leah flipping you off with a grin.

alessia laughed at the interaction between the two of you, jogging up to stand in front of you with a bright smile.

“baby” she grinned, her hand cupping your cheek as she pressed a sweet kiss on your lips, “babe, i’m working” you giggle as alessia continued to press kisses to your lips and cheeks,

“keep working then” she chuckles, moving to stand behind you, her arms wrapped around your waist as her head rested on your shoulder.

you smile as you continue to take photos of the england girls, only lasting for a couple of seconds before leah had to physically drag alessia away from you.

“i love you both but star girl needs to train” leah mocks, flicking your forehead with her arm wrapped tightly around alessia to drag her off,

“lee, wait!” you stop her, smiling before pressing a quick kiss to alessia’s lips, your sister dry retching as alessia sent heart eyes your way.

“okay, you can take her” you say cheekily, laughing as you hear leah scolding alessia for ‘corrupting’ her sweet sister while alessia shook her head in amusement.

alessia made you laugh like no one else, alessia made you feel more comfortable as yourself like you’d never experienced.

you and alessia loved each other more than anyone. even leah was willing to be a close second to your girlfriend.

although in the beginning you left alessia at a distance, you were so grateful for her persistence in breaking down your barriers, even if it took you a while.

you both knew it was a forever kind of thing. and so did everyone else.

⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆

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alessia: always the photographer xx

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yourname: i know a pretty canvas when i see one

↳ alessia: such a flirt, baby!

↳ yourname: your fault

leahwilliamsonn: sister stealer

↳ yourname: you literally told me to go on the date

↳ leahwilliamsonn: hush, bunny, i’m talking

↳ alessia: lunch tomorrow?

↳ leahwilliamsonn: you’re paying.

↳ alessia: deal

[dreamwritesimagines]

The Eye of the Hurricane [4] - Spark

A.N: Here’s the new chapter my loves! ❤️ I hope you’ll like it, and please don’t forget to tell me what you think, thank you! ❤️

Summary: A quiet night on the rooftop holds new promises.

Word Count: 3500

Pairing: MobBoss!Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: Violence, death, guns, crime, blood, explicit language. This is an AU, friendly reminder that I don’t condone any of the actions depicted on this story and please read with care.

Series Masterlist

“I’m not saying my best friend in the entire world betrayed me, but I’m kind of tempted to change her name into Brutus in my contacts.”

“Just because she cancelled on this dinner you mentioned?”

“It’s a tradition at this point,” you said, leaning back on the couch. “Us and the Barnes family get together every two months, we’ve started it way before my mom passed away. I get that it’s the bachelorette party of her friend’s sister, but still!”

Dr. Cooper smiled calmly.

“Are you nervous because Bucky is going to be there?”

Your head shot up and you forced a nonchalant laugh.

“Bucky doesn’t make me nervous,” you said, the words coming out of your mouth in a rush and she raised her brows.

“Doesn’t he?”

“He annoys me,” you pointed out. “There’s a difference.”

“I can see that,” she said. “And why does he annoy you?”

Your eyes snapped up at hers and you shifted your weight on the couch.

“We have history.”

She hummed. “What kind of history?”

You nibbled on your lip, your stomach doing a flip at the memory but you pushed it to the back of your mind, rolling your shoulders back.

“Let’s change the subject.”

She thought for a moment, then put aside her notebook to with a sigh.

“Y/N,” she said. “We’ve been having these therapy sessions for three months now, am I correct?”

“Yes,” you said. “Sarah Wilson recommended you, she’s a good friend of mine.”

“And you were seeing Dr. Phillips before?”

“No offense to Dr. Phillips but I don’t think we were a good match.”

She nodded.

“That can happen,” she said. “But I just need to make sure you understand that if these therapy sessions are going to work, you will have to step out of your comfort zone sometimes.”

“Oh, therapy isn’t in my comfort zone,” you said with a wave of your hand. “You’d think it would be, after years and years of experience but…”

“I’m aware this is not what you want to hear but for us to make progress, you will have to be open with me,” she said. “Instead of changing the subject all the time.”

You smiled. “I don’t think me being completely open with you is in your best interest.”

“Why not?”

“Just a hunch,” you stated, your voice completely flat and she hummed.

“How about this?” she said. “Perhaps you could just try sharing something small with me. I’m not saying you have to share every single thing if you’re not comfortable with it, but…maybe something that happened recently and how you reacted to it?”

For some reason, “Someone tried to shoot me a week ago” didn’t feel like it was a great conversation starter so you leaned back, looking up at the ceiling to come up with something.

“I’ve recently found myself in sort of an… unideal situation,” you ended up saying and she nodded her head.

“That’s a wonderful start,” she said. “Can you elaborate?”

“Someone acted very rude towards me the other night when I was having dinner with a friend from college,” you said. “And I was annoyed at how inconsiderate it was to pull that shit when I was in the middle of something. Like what, you couldn’t wait an hour or so to do this on my way back home?”

“How did you react when it happened?”

“I didn’t get to react much because Bucky placed himself in that situation as well.”

“He was there?”

“Passing by,” you spat, “Anyway, he got involved and the situation was resolved pretty fast.”

“In disagreements like these,” she said. “It’s incredibly important that we make our stance and boundaries clear.”

You pursed your lips. “I don’t disagree.”

“So this inconsiderate person you speak of, would you say they know how you feel about the issue?”

You repressed a smile, then leaned back, crossing your legs.

“I think so,” you said. “I expressed very clearly how I felt about the issue and now, well…I’m very certain that they won’t do it again.”

                                                *

Normally you didn’t mind these dinners mainly because you and Becca would have a lot of fun once the dinner was over. George and Winnifred had always been nice to you and Winnifred had more than once said you were family, seeing that you and Becca were inseparable even when you were little.

And you were hoping Bucky would be busy the whole night so you wouldn’t have to spend the night delivering snarks back and forth.

Ian sipped his wine while you texted Becca under the table, complaining about how she should have been there for the hundredth time since the morning before you lifted your glances from the phone.

“Becca gives her regards, everyone.”

“Oh thank you sweetheart,” your father said. “Will she not be joining us then?”

“There’s apparently her friend’s bachelorette party?” Winnifred asked, turning to you as if she wanted to be sure and you nodded.

“Her friend’s sister’s bachelorette,” you said helpfully and George smiled slightly.

“And when will we see your bachelorette, sweetheart?”

“George!”

“Not soon I hope,” your father said with a chuckle and you waved a hand in the air.

“Definitely not soon,” you said and Ian played with his fork.

“I don’t know,” he said with a scoff. “You keep dating civilians, one of them will ask you to marry them sooner or later.”

Your head snapped up and a silence fell upon the table. George and Winnifred exchanged glances and your father raised his brows.

“Y/N?”

You narrowed your eyes. “Ian doesn’t know what he’s talking about as always.”

“Oh is that right?”

“Our Y/N is a very beautiful girl,” Winnifred said as if trying to de-escalate the situation. “Civilian or not, I’m not surprised many people are interested.”

You offered her a thankful smile and turned to your father.

“I’m not dating civilians,” you assured him. “Or anyone right now.”

“But you know the rules,” your father said. “Any civilian you decide to date has to go through the background check.”

“With good reason,” George pointed out before taking his fork to his mouth and you hummed.

“Yeah yeah, I remember the whole speech.”

“Bucky and Becca got that speech as well.”

“They apparently needed it,” Winnifred said. “I mean do you remember Bucky’s ex girlfriend? Dot?”

That familiar bitterness of jealousy churned your stomach and you pursed your lips, then reached out for your wine glass.

“Were you here around that time sweetheart?” George asked you. “Or were you still away for college?”

The music was booming through the club as you walked back to the bar from the bathroom with Becca, and you looked around for your date as Becca motioned at the bartender, then turned her head when Steve touched her shoulder.

“Hi there.”

“Hey!” Becca kissed him on the cheek and you smiled at him.

“Hi Steve,” you said, taking your cocktail from the bartender. “Um, did you see my date anywhere?”

Steve shot you an apologetic smile. “I told him not to do it.”

Becca sucked on the straw of the cocktail, raising her brows and you frowned.

“What?”

“Bucky.”

Your jaw clenched and you gritted your teeth, putting your drink down.

“Where is he?”

“I just want to remind you that Sam has just bought this club, so he’d be pretty angry if you shot my brother tonight.” Becca pointed out, leaning sideways to Steve’s arm and Steve nodded his head.

“Wouldn’t look good for the club.”

“Where is he, Steve?”

Steve pointed upstairs. “VIP.”

You whirled around on your heels and stomped your way up the cantilever stairs, anger rushing through you. You made your way past his and Sam’s bodyguards by the door, then slammed the door open to step inside. Bucky was talking to Sam as you walked in while a gorgeous girl resting her head on his shoulder and Sam hissed in a breath.

“Uh oh,” he said. “Told you not to do it.”

“Hi Sam.”

“Hi Y/N.”

The girl lifted her head from Bucky’s shoulder as Bucky sat up straighter, and had the nerve to smile at you.

“Hi Charm.”

“Where is my date, Bucky?”

“I think he said he had something to do,” Bucky said, stealing a look at Sam. “Something urgent, right Sam? That’s what we heard.”

“Oh you’re not dragging me into this.”

“I’m sorry, who is this?” the girl asked and Bucky cleared his throat, then motioned between you and her.

“Y/N, this is Dot; my girlfriend.”

Your eyes snapped up to his, that familiar bitterness climbing up your throat but you managed to keep your expression flat.

“Dot, this is Y/N. She’s uh…she’s Becca’s best friend.”

Sam tilted his head to shoot Bucky a look of disbelief.

“You’ve just intimidated Becca’s best friend’s date into leaving the club?” Dot asked, confusion laced in her tone and Sam cleared his throat.

“They grew up together,” he explained to her. “Bucky tends to get overprotective of Y/N, kind of an old habit there.”

 Dot pressed a hand on her chest.

“Aw that’s sweet!” she said. “So she’s like a sister to you, Bucky?”

Sam raised his brows as if trying to keep a straight face, then he shook his head slightly while you glared at Bucky.

“Well—” Bucky started but you cut him off.

“What did you say to him?”

“Nothing,” he said with a shrug of his shoulders. “Just a warning. Don’t blame me if you keep dating people who are easily intimidated.”

“Who I date is none of your business.”

“You are Becca’s best friend so it makes it my business—also, you call that dancing?” he asked you. “He was feeling you up, he should be glad he walked out of here with his junk still attached to his body.”

You ran a hand over your face, then turned to Dot.

“Listen, I don’t even know you but you seem nice enough,” you said. “You probably deserve better than an asshole who thinks his dick is made of gold. You could do much better.”

With that, you walked out of the room and slammed the door behind you.

“No, they got together after I returned to the city,” you said. “Like a month after my graduation. I was here, she was pretty nice.”

“I didn’t like her,” Winnifred said and you let out a small laugh.

“And when was the last time you liked anyone he or Becca brought home?”

“When was the last time either of them brought someone I could like?” Winnifred asked back and you held up your hands with a grin, gesturing surrender.

“Daddy is the same,” you said. “But don’t worry, just in case things get serious with a partner, me and Becca came up with a great plan years ago.”

“What is it?”

“We’ll get everyone drunk,” you pointed out, coaxing chuckles out of them. “Should make things easier, at least for the first dinner.”

                                              *

 After dinner, you had excused yourself to go up to the swimming pool on the rooftop, so that you could enjoy the night. After their weekend house, this one was the one you liked the most among Barnes residences; it had such a lovely view of the night sky. You sipped your wine and leaned back on the lounge chair, heaving a sigh and keeping your eyes on the stars.

Becca was still partying with her friends so you were just going to enjoy some peace and quiet until it was time to go home. You loved spending time with George and Winnifred, that wasn’t the problem, but this evening you really weren’t in the mood for Ian’s bullshit. You knew very well that he knew about your date with Ethan, and though he hadn’t told your father yet, you were sure it wasn’t from the goodness in his heart.

Not that he or your father had anything to worry about. You had made sure that Ethan got a background check as your father wanted with all the civilians you dated, back at college and right before you decided to meet again two weeks back, you had done the same. It was safe, whether they approved him or not.

The sound of the door opening made you turn your head and as soon as your eyes fell upon Bucky stepping to the roof, you let out a groan.

“I thought you were busy.”

“I was,” he said, approaching you with a glass of whiskey in his hand before he sat down on the lounge chair beside yours and you stole a look at him.

“You missed dinner.”

“Mm hm. Sorry about that.”

“You never miss dinner.”

“Yeah well, wasn’t exactly my choice,” he said, making you turn a little so that you can look at him better.

“Why?”

“Overtime at the office,” he joked and you tilted your head.

“Trouble?”

“Nothing we can’t handle.”

“Does my father know?”

“He does,” he said as your phone vibrated on the small table beside you, making you check the screen.

From: Ethan

My coworkers dragged me to this café and I think you’d like it.

You smiled slightly and typed back your reply.

Well, the only way to be sure is if you invite me there the next time.

It didn’t even take him five seconds to reply back;

Lunch tomorrow?

You typed in a “Yes” and sent it, then turned the phone in your hand while Bucky lit a cigarette.

“Is that the civilian?”

“Ugh, not you too!” you whined with a grimace. “Everyone already gave me the third degree at dinner, you’d think I’m going to elope at any time.”

He shot you a light hearted glare. “They’re just worried about you sweetheart.”

“Don’t call me that—and also, you’ve dated one hundred civilians, I don’t see anyone giving you speeches,” you grumbled. “It’s so hypocritical, not to mention medieval.”

Bucky chuckled, then sipped his drink.

“Well…”

“I don’t know why everyone keeps acting like the possibility of me ending up with a civilian would be a disaster.”

“Because it would be.”

“No, you know what the disaster would be?” you asked him. “Me ending up with someone from the business.”

“Oh come on—”

“Pop out a few babies, pretend I don’t know about his mistresses and go to pilates for the rest of my life,” you mused. “Dream life right there.”

“It doesn’t have to be like that and you know that,” Bucky said. “Only an idiot would cheat on you, and in case it has escaped your notice, idiots don’t live long in this line of work.”

You suppressed a smile threatening to warm your face, and instead rolled your eyes at him.

“Not worth the effort,” you said as you downed your wine, then held out your glass in his direction. The corners of his mouth twitched upwards but he still grabbed the wine bottle on the floor to fill your glass.

“Thank you.”

“As the princess wishes,” he said and you heaved a sigh, then leaned back again to look up at the sky.

“What’s going on with the business?” you asked. “Are you and Stark still on bad terms?”

“We’re playing nice,” he said with a shrug of his shoulders. “Common interests for once.”

“I’ll pop the champagne,” you deadpanned. “He looks pretty busy; he and my father have a meeting next week as well.”

“Will Ian be there?”

You heaved a sigh. “I’d assume so.”

Bucky ran a hand over his face, then turned to you.

“Your father is not serious, is he?” he asked you. “He’s not actually going to name Ian as his successor?”

That familiar bitter taste burned your mouth but you pursed your lips together, then slipped a little on the lounge chair.

“Why are you asking me?” you asked. “Go ask him that.”

“I’m not going to do business with Ian, Charm.” Bucky told you. “If your father retires and names him the successor, that’s it.”

Your jaw dropped as you gawked at him.

“You cannot be serious,” you said. “Just because you don’t like him—”

“It’s not just that,” Bucky said. “Stark and I hate each other’s guts, but I still know he’s not going to break the truce or stab me in the back. Ian, on the other hand…”

“Ian is insufferable,” you said. “Trust me I’d know, I live with the guy. But breaking the truce is a death sentence, and he’s not an idiot.”

“I don’t trust him,” Bucky said. “Neither does Steve, or Sam.”

You massaged your temples with your fingertips. “Don’t put me in a position where I have to speak well of Ian.”

“You couldn't speak well of him if you tried,” he insisted before he took a sip of his whiskey. “Listen, I get why your father made the decision he made after your mother, but that was then. You can’t tell me you’re okay with this.”

You bit inside your cheek, swirling the wine in your glass.

“He promised it to me, Bucky,” you said through your teeth, your gaze fixed on your wine. “All those years ago. I was playing with dolls in the car and and my father pointed outside and told me that part of the city would belong to me when I grew up. So no, of course I’m not okay with the possibility of Ian being the successor.”

“Then take over.”

A small laugh climbed up your throat and you nodded at his whiskey glass. “How many of those have you had?”

“You know me better than that, I’m completely sober,” he said. “Why wouldn’t you take over?”

“Don’t you remember what went down in Massachusetts years ago?” you asked. “That family fight for the crown? They almost brought the whole city down with them, alliances got fucked, so many people died...”

“That was very different, there was no truce there.”

You clicked your tongue. “Still. It would devastate my father if I started a war in the family.”

“Ian is going to burn your father’s empire down,” Bucky told you, his piercing blue eyes locked in yours, making your heart skip a beat. “You think it won’t devastate him to watch that? If you want to be the next leader—”

“Of course I want it,” you cut him off, your whole body tense. “What I want changes nothing here.”

“Charm…”

“My father made sure I stayed out of the business since my mom,” you said. “Which was good strategy on his part, I admit. Ian on the other hand has many friends in the business and they’re completely loyal to him. He would not just hand that position to me, not when he thinks my father will name him as the successor instead of me.”

“He has his men, so what?” he asked you. “Compared to the support you would have if you wanted the crown? You have more allies than Ian.”

You blinked a couple of times, a small glimmer of hope warming your chest before you cleared your throat.

“There’s the code,” you muttered. “It’s family business. No one outside the family can get involved in the decision of who the next leader should be.”

A small smile pulled at his lips and for the thousandth time you couldn’t help but notice how handsome he was, but then you frowned down at your wine glass and put it on the small table, rolling your shoulders back.

Yeah. Enough wine for the night.

“But a powerful ally in the family would make everything much easier, wouldn’t it?” he asked and you scoffed a laugh.

“My hypothetical rise to power?” you asked. “Obviously. But either way, it’d be an uphill battle. What with the city and family and everything…”

“It doesn’t have to be,” he said without pulling his gaze off you and you felt your cheeks burn under his intense stare, but managed to keep your expression completely nonchalant.

“No?”

“Not at all.”

“And how’s that?”

Bucky swallowed thickly and downed his whiskey in one go before straightening his back. If you didn’t know any better, you would’ve thought he was nervous but of course that was nonsense; Bucky was too arrogant to be nervous.

“Come on,” you taunted him. “Humor me, golden heir.”

“Well,” he said after a pause, turning his empty glass in his hand. “You have a point. You would have to get most of Ian’s supporters within the family, you would have to persuade your father, and considering Ian will not want to hand you the crown, that whole process would not go very peacefully. Me, Steve and Sam already support you, but the rest of the families could take some time and effort to convince. I guess some bloodshed in the city would be inevitable as well, it’d be a huge change, considering your father’s influence and power…”

You hummed. “Or?”

A smile curled his lips upwards and he took a deep breath.

“Or,” he said. “You could marry me.”

Chapter 5

[the-maddened-hatter]

Honestly Monk was SUCH a good show for me to see as a young teen I'm ngl. Like yeah, it's not an overly accurate representation of OCD and I'm sure there's things that probably didn't age very well, but OH MY GOD can you even comprehend how amazing it was to get to see a canonically disabled, ND, and, more specifically, PROFOUNDLY ANXIOUS badass main character when you're a freshly diagnosed autistic & anxious young 12-13 year old with the only real advice from a crappy psychiatrist being to "learn to step out of your comfort zone or consider beginning prescription medications."

To get to see "do it scared" depicted in cinematic action in both heroic and relatively mundane contexts. A touch-averse, routine adhering, socially awkward, sensory issue having character as a SMART AND COURAGEOUS PROTAGONIST!

Hell, it was pretty amazing (for me at least) to see a character use those disinfectant handwipes every episode! I have severe food allergies and I have to carry a pack or canister with me for when I need to eat in town or when I've had to go into a grocery store and now that there's a pandemic and food allergies are rather more of an understood issue it's not all that weird a thing to have, but at the time it was definitely yet another step apart from peers and by god was it awesome to see a (again, smart and awesome) character use them too, even if it wasn't for quite the same reasons.

There's things that took longer to germinate too (and tbh still are).

That you don't owe people being "normal and easy". Yes, you have to be cognizant of their needs, boundaries, and how your behavior affects them, but it's still okay to need help and to do things in odd ways and have unusual needs.

That sometimes you're going to fail, do things badly, not be able to be as reasonable as you logically know you should. That logic can't always beat fear even when it should, and that it doesn't make YOU a failure, it means you have to try again another time or try differently.

And that sometimes people aren't as good for you as they seem, no matter how much history you have, and it hurts, it truly does, but sometimes it leads you to connect, by pure chance, with a compassionate stranger, and time will make the disparities between them clearer to the point that when you look back you don't know how you ever thought they were your ally just because they put up with your problems

[ponett]

Whenever I complain about graphic or dark content in media I watch, I keep hearing people retort with this apparently very popular opinion that people who enjoy comfy, wholesome things are actually more likely to be raging assholes than people who love things like death metal and gore. As someone who seems to enjoy comfy, wholesome things yourself and likely met many others who enjoy similar such things, do you agree with this opinion? If so, why do you think this happens?

So I've been sitting on this ask for like a week, not knowing whether or not I wanted to touch it because it kind of feels like being handed a live grenade

For one, I don't like being pigeonholed as someone who just likes "comfy" or "wholesome" things. Yeah, I enjoy My Little Pony and Animal Crossing. I made a game with cute furry characters and lots of bright colors. I also enjoy things like Berserk and Chainsaw Man and Doom and violent crime dramas and punk rock with vulgar lyrics and porn. Variety is the spice of life

Anyway: I generally don't think it's a good idea to make sweeping statements about peoples' moral or intellectual character based on what genres of story they enjoy, regardless of what direction you're coming at it from. But this is a very leading question that kind of skirts around the root problems

There's frequent (perhaps a bit exaggerated) pushback these days against people who prefer their fiction to be a warm blanket, a form of escapism meant to distract you from the real world. In particular, the dreaded "person who only watches kids' cartoons" is a form of this that gets brought up a lot. I don't think the root problem here is what media people enjoy or don't personally enjoy - taste is subjective, and I don't think it's a moral obligation for everyone to have diverse tastes in TV shows - but I do think some folks should try to get out of their comfort zone a bit more. Sometimes stuff that seems like it won't be for you on a surface level will really end up speaking to you, but you won't know until you give it a shot. Trust me, I've been there many times

It becomes a problem when people demand that media ONLY cater to that "warm blanket" attitude. And I think that's part of the reason why that stereotype you mentioned about fans of ""wholesome""" media being assholes exists. People who view dark or violent content as an inherent flaw because it's not what they like. People who yell at creators when they make bad things happen in their stories, because how dare you do this to my comfort characters? People who say movies should never have sex scenes. People who want "problematic" moral complexity stripped out in favor of black and white moral instruction. People who seem to hate any sort of interpersonal conflict in fiction at all

These attitudes can be the result of many different cultural factors, factors that can't all be traced back to Tumblr or what shows you like, but sometimes it's definitely because of that lack of broader perspective on media. You can tell when someone's opinions on The Right And Wrong Ways To Write Fiction were shaped almost entirely by, like, Steven Universe discourse. (Yes, this is a jab at Lily Orchard.) And when these people are very loud about their opinions, well, it becomes a trend people notice

Like. I don't know you. You sent this anonymously. But when you say you "complain about graphic or dark content in media you watch"... that could mean a few wildly different things! Maybe you're just venting about something that unexpectedly triggered you, and that's totally fine. But the wording could also imply that, like, you take issue with these things being present at all, and that you expect a person who likes "death metal and gore" to be more of a "raging asshole" than someone who likes the "wholesome" things you like. So... well, maybe you're more dismissive or judgmental of things outside your comfort zone than you realize?

Unfortunately, in case it's not already obvious, on the internet this shit quickly becomes a proxy battle over dozens of intersecting cultural issues at once where everyone is kinda just talking past each other. So it gets messy

For example, I have no reason to believe that the people who run the "Wholesome Games" showcases have anything against games that are dark or violent or contain adult themes. (They've outright said they don't. Many times!) But when you see people going "why is Spiritfarer allowed in the showcase? That's a game about DEATH and that's NOT WHOLESOME, why would you make me think about death?" or "Ugh, why does Disco Elysium have to be about a cop? Why can't we apply these systems to a game about a young witch who's trying to find a lost cat in an idyllic village instead?" it... Well, it makes me sympathetic towards the indies who don't feel comfortable with the "Wholesome Games" label and consider it limiting. But it also doesn't make me think that devs catering to a demand for more chill, nonviolent video games are categorically facilitating fascist censorship from the Christian right

It's complicated! The written word is imprecise and the internet is a nightmare

I've kind of gone off on multiple tangents here. Basically: I do think that people can kinda turn fans of "comfy" media or "adults who only watch Bluey" into an overblown boogeyman these days. I think people online generally have a habit of swinging too hard in one direction or another in their stances on certain things, overcompensating based on what group of people online are currently annoying them the most and turning said group into like The Main Problem With Society Today. But I also think that boogeyman only exists because of very real examples of people demanding that everything cater to their narrow comfort zone. Go like what you like, but also, y'know. Don't be that person

[pinkpigtailsprincess]

𝜗𝜚 ݁ ˖ Dollies 63 Days of Summer Glow up!! Day 1 > Prep 🎀☀️🐬

Hii Dolls!! 🎀 Welcome 2 my newest series of my 2 month long summer glow up process its pretty self explanatory but im gonna be documenting my 2 month long summer glow up process 2 just be a better me!! enjoy!! ☀️

DISCLAIMER!! ; i will censoring and dancing around certain topics just bc ik they can be triggering to some folk that have issues so cw; vauge mentions of w3!ght!! 💗

Stage 1 : Health! ☀️

It always important to keep up with ur health obvii 2 maintain good balance in life! ☀️

𐙚 𓈒 ݁ ₊ Diet!! 🍏

Now diet wise i already do have a pretty balanced and healthy diet to begin with so i won’t have to that much work on my diet but i definitely wanna make small improvements!!🎀

𐙚 𓈒 ݁ ₊ Diet Goals!! 🍋

incorporate different from my usual ones fruits!!

expand my palate (chronic picky eater)

making more meals that are still healthy & tasty but not repetitive!!

not skipping my meals!!

cutting out all meats except fish!!

push myself to like cucumbers

get back into drinking more fruit water!!

stop eating so much cheese!

knowing my limit when eating!

𐙚 𓈒 ݁ ₊ Exercise !! 🧘‍♀️

Doing more exercise is definitely a huge one for me because there was a point where i did it daily but then i stopped bc i feel into a rut but then i started again but only once a month so im trying to get back into daily exercise!!

𐙚 𓈒 ݁ ₊ Fitness Goals!! 🧘‍♀️

workout more than once a month!

do more yoga + cardio + home pilates

use exercise to make me healthier & happier

lose w*ight i won’t disclose how much i want to loose and how much i wanna be bc that’s personal 2 me !!

feeling comfortable in my body + build discipline

𐙚 𓈒 ݁ ₊ Oral Health !! 🪥

I Will say i did recently update my oral hygiene routine bc i got braces so now i have to do more work but i definitely wanna still add things to it!!

𐙚 𓈒 ݁ ₊ Oral Health Goals !! 🦷

consistently floss in the morning as well as night

buy a tongue scraper

get an electric toothbrush

start oil pulling

𐙚 𓈒 ݁ ₊ Mental Health !! ☀️

I Sooo wanna improve some thing in my mental health bc obviously its super important to not only take care of my physical health but my mental health!! 🎀

𐙚 𓈒 ݁ ₊ Mental Health Goals !! 🧁

get back into journaling

get back into meditation

step out of my comfort zone

build more confidence in social settings!

replace most phone time with reading time

spend more time outside

prioritizing rest more

not being to hard on myself

celebrating all my wins and accomplishments no matter how big or small!

Stage2 ೀ⋆ : Hygiene!

I Already have a pretty solid skincare routine to begin with but honestly i just wanna improve to it and add more to it ! 🎀

Skincare ୭₊˚ ! 🎀

For my Skincare routine i already have my products and my basics but honestly i wanna stater using different products to better help my skin!!

❤︎ ໋𓈒 Skincare Goals ! ⭐️

ice rolling

gua-sha

jade rolling

bi weekly dermaplaing

weekly face mask

facial steaming

facial cleansing brush

use more Korean & Japanese products (Japanese products are literally the best)

Body-care ୭₊˚ ⭐️

Another section where i wanna make improvement i already exfoliate,hair removal sometimes and i use my antibacterial soap and my body washes but theres a bunch of things i wanna incorporate!! 💗

❤︎ ໋𓈒 Bodycare Goals ! 🐬

start dry brushing

exfoliate weekly

shave or epilating more often (my own choice bc honestly i don’t like the feeling of body hair

use my glycolic acid more routinely

buy more sweet smelling body products

find a signature scent

use body oil + body butter + body glitter

using an African exfoliating net instead of a rag

Haircare ୭₊˚ ! 💗

For my Hair care i definitely wanna make room for improvement i mainly detangle every day with just some water or style depending on if i need/want to or not and i oil my scalp!!

❤︎ ໋𓈒 Haircare Goals ! 🐬

Grow it out more with the Help of Indian Amla Oil (some said it stinks but if it helps)

Learn More Hair Styles

Use Rice Water

castor oil

Scalp Massage More Often

Hair Masque Bi-Weekly

Trim Split Ends

Deep Conditioning On a Wash Day

Nailcare ! ୭₊˚ ⭐️

use more cuticle oil

professional manipedis bi weekly!

soak my feet with foot salts more

develop my own at home nail care routine

Facials!!🎀

buy new daily vitamins!!

keep my hair professionally done!!

use my primuce stone more

buy more lipgloss + vaseline lip care

Stage 3 ೀ⋆ Makeup + Jewelry + Fashion + Perfumes 🛍️ !!

I wanna learn how to do my makeup again so badly! and this time i have more tips so i can actually learn how to do it properly!! 🫧

Makeup Goals ୭₊˚ !

find the perfect soft glam dolly makeup

perfect my eyebrows

learn to glue down lashes

make the perfect base

learn to bronze and contour correctly

perfect the highlighter placement

get the perfect sun kissed summer doll makeup

again buy more lipgloss

Jewelry Goals ୭₊˚ ! ⭐️

i desperately have been needing new jewelry and for the longest and ive stupidly been wearing silver knowing i like gold better

buy bangels

get gold hoops

get a new nameplate

get more necklaces

get more rings

get anklets !!

Fashion Goals ୭₊˚ ! 🛍️

actually dress in clothes i genuinely like

dress for my body type

not toning down my dressing for random people

build confidence in my outfits

start sewing some of my outfits bc i can

make crochet pieces for the beach

buy tons of cute clothes!!

make more inspo boards !!

Stage 4 ; Posture,Eloquence + Mannerism + Photogenic 🎀🍰

Definitely a Big one for me i wanna fix my posture and definitely speak up more in public bc im a little shy 🙈🎀!

Posture Goals ୭₊˚ ! 🫧

fix my back posture

learn to again regulate my nervous sustem and relax my shoulders

be more fluid in my movements!!

walking with my head up

Eloquence Goals ୭₊˚ ! 🛁

speaking louder in public so people can actually hear me

speaking clearly with confidence

controlling my facial expressions more

smiling more!! 😁

Mannerism Goals + Body Language ୭₊˚ ! 🛍️

I tend to tone down my natrual mannerisms ALOT when im out in public and honestly im tried of not being my true self in public and i let the opinions of those around me influence me into toning it down

be more animated as i am at home in public

walk the way i want to!!

practice princess mannerisms with my own little spin🤭

walk around like a princess bc im literally a princess

Extra Goals ୭₊˚ ! 🛍️

be more photogenic

learn how to pose

be more videogenic

walk around like i won the place (4 the confidence esque of it

Stage 5: Mindset!!🎀⭐️

The Final Stage!!🎀: where ill be implementing so mindsets of some my favs and learn how to express myself in my environment bc honestly it sucks not being able to be myself around my family ⭐️

Mindset Goals ୭₊˚ ! 🐬

knowing my worth

not letting outside opinions dictate my life

unapologetically being myself around my family

reminding my self that people opinions don’t matter

always have a one track mind with all my goals!!

again not being too hard on myself!

Thank you all so much 4 reading i can’t wait till start documenting my journey with you guys!!🎀⭐️ XO,Dolly!!

[aizawaskittenwhore]

bedroom stats with armin!

hi guys im back, this is not to b taken seriously but i had to get these lil armin hcs out my drafts so enjoy! <3

content warnings: uh..smut!

yeah that’s about it. let me know if i missed anythin in the notes !

im not gonna say “armin likes missionary because hes shy/inexperienced >.<“ because not only is that played out, it’s not even true!!

armin’s thing is backshots w you on your stomach. pillow underneath you for optimal comfort, but sometimes if he’s in a rush, he doesn’t mind using the wall to serve his purpose

yes there are marks from where your neck and chest have mushed themselves into the drywall, forehead smearing sweat against eggshell paint as you revel in how fucking good he feels

he’s so fucking analytical in everything he does, even down to sex positions and what angles hit deepest when he’s fucking you..

Talks You Through It™️

im so deadass.

he loves watching you shiver as his lips come into range, his breath heady as it ghosts along your nervous system, your body zoned in on the sensation that is armin whispering utter filth as he rocks into you again, and again, and again

“i know, i know—“ you’re pushing his lower stomach in protest, his tip poking and prodding sweet moans out of you, body waivering when he molds himself into your cervix for just a second, retreating only to seemingly go even deeper on the next stroke

“move your fuckin’ hand.” is almost a whisper when he says it. but his voice is so deep and so sensuous when it slithers through you like that. naturally, your hand goes limp

“f-feel you in my stomach..”

“just means i got you to feel good.”

prefers to give over receive, less for you more for him

armin arlert relaxes by slurping up pussy juice and honestly, good for him!

does a lot of grunting during sex but his voice is just so breathy so it comes out angelic as fuck mmm

armin is also a whisperer during sex like he loves watching u shiver when he gets real close, body already being propelled from the momentum of him fucking you but when he starts whispering nasty shit in your ear as though he’s not in your guts???

mm

just mm.

throws his head back when he’s about to cum

yes with a lip bite cause for some strange reason he tries not to moan like you don’t love that shit..but go off i suppose

physically speaking no his dick is not enormous but it really makes no difference cause honey

stroke game gives rock the boat, rock the boat

im sorry i really wanted to add that AHAHA

nah but armin’s coming in at like 6.5 hard

and that’s ok!

also contrary to popular belief armin is an ass man.

it’s something about a nice ass and pair of thighs that’s gonna get him hard without fail, as he should

eats it from the back too

no i will not elaborate further

also loves it when you break script and don’t play along

he’s always had a thing for the “taming a bad girl” fantasy, possibly attributed to his rule-following mentality with everything else, but hey what do i know

calls u “nasty girl” when you’re getting nutted on

rubs it in w the tip after facials..

armin is a freak y’all better act like you know

[mysteria157]

Moment One: An Old Flame

Rating: Explicit 

Pairing: Nanami Kento x Black Fem Reader

CW: fluff, profanity, explicit sexual content (whole lotta smut, I’m talking: vaginal sex, vaginal fingering, oral sex, creampie…lol you get it).

Word Count: ~6k

Summary: When Nanami has no choice but to work overtime, you bring him dinner as a surprise. But you unexpectedly find his ex-girlfriend already keeping him company. 

Takes place a few weeks after Chapter 15 of It Had To Be You!

Notes: I had this idea way back when I wrote chapter 15 weeks ago and I finally made it a reality last night LOL. I don’t have a beta reader, so sometimes there may be a mistake or two. I have a habit of being way too detailed when I write, and that includes smut. So hopefully you enjoy it! 

Likes, reblogs, and comments are always welcome! Happy reading!

Divider: @saradika | Header: myself

Those Moments In Between Masterlist | Moment Two

©mysteria157, all rights reserved. DO NOT copy, plagiarize, reupload, modify, or translate (without permission) my work to other accounts and platforms.

MINORS DNI

Nanami knows better.

He knows that his ex-girlfriend, Pia, is just as devious as she was when they were in undergrad. 

When they were younger and together, she gave sweetness and tender love that made Nanami stick around a bit longer than he should have. Though they had nothing in common and she was far too outgoing, she helped him embrace many different things that were normally out of his comfort zone.

She taught him how to express public displays of affection in his own way. She taught him how to express what he felt when it came to romantic love. 

He was grateful for it. Truly.

Indirectly, her personality only made him realize just how ill-suited they were for one another despite her good intentions.

Pia was spiteful to those who disagreed with her, disrespectful to those who did not have the same values as her, and outlandishly rude to those who came on to Nanami. She covered it all up with smiles, jokes as a means of apology, and an innocent glint in her eyes that Nanami at the time, didn't have the experience to see through.

Gojo had tried to warn him, year after year.

But he was young--his disdain for Gojo was five thousand times more intense than it is now--so Nanami treated everything that fell from Gojo's lips as a ploy to annoy anyway. 

Nanami remained oblivious to her behavior, caught in the haze of young love, until their final year of college.

That haze had gradually become easier to sift through. The complaints from his friends finally began to register in his mind. Then, one day between classes, a significant moment allowed him to finally blink away the fog.

Every action that he had once dismissed, enticed by the flutter of her lashes and the touch of her lips, rose to the surface from an ocean of naivety--loud and unfiltered.

He despised himself for having to come to the painful realization that Gojo had been right all along. 

Nanami allowed Gojo to mock him for a week before reverting to his habit of telling him to shut up unless he had something meaningful to contribute to their conversations. 

Despite feeling embarrassed and heartbroken, he cut ties--clean and simple--moved on with his life, and never heard from her again.

Until now, that is, as she is currently in Nakameguro for a project to market her wine enterprise. She specifically chose his company to assist in expanding her business in the Japanese market, and he despises every minute of it. 

Pia clearly wants to make up for lost time because she goes to great lengths to be close to him. 

She has a habit of discreetly slipping into the elevator just before it closes, coincidentally finding herself alone with Nanami every time. With a simple smile and a polite greeting, she faces the front and they ride in silence, but with every encounter, she subtly edges closer and closer to him. 

Like clockwork, without fail, she makes a point to peek into his office every morning, disregarding his attempt to keep the door closed. She greets him, extends an invitation to lunch—an invitation he consistently declines—and continues with her day. 

Being a recluse by nature, he rarely leaves his office except for coffee runs to the breakroom or when Yuji relentlessly calls for his presence. But with Pia’s presence, he can hardly focus when she’s around. He refuses to engage in conversation or give her an opening to pursue him romantically. Because he knows she will. So now he makes Yuji come to him and will bring his own coffee from home. 

He chooses not to confide in you about his struggles.

You had only met her once, but it was more than enough. Because to you, Pia is overwhelmingly beautiful, with a well-traveled life and wealth. You are an amateur ceramic artist with modest savings, a mother that you can’t stand, and a body that had recently been stretched and marked by childbirth.

You thought Kento deserved better—deserved someone like Pia. 

You were grappling with the overwhelming responsibilities of taking care of Ulani, trying your best to navigate through postpartum depression in a healthy way, and coming to terms with a body that seemed alien to you.

So the sight of Pia for the first time, radiant and flaunting a badge of honor for dating Nanami, did nothing but throw you into a deep pit of insecurity.

Kento lifted you out of that dark place, demonstrated to you again—without fail—how devoted he was to you then and always.

He made it abundantly clear that he was yours. 

He’s determined to never make you feel unsure of yourself again. 

So it's not a big deal. She’s just a nuisance that he has to dodge for the next week. 

Just another week until she goes back to Italy where she—hopefully—will never return.

What’s the worst that can happen?

It turns out, a lot.

He tries to stay one step ahead, deliberately exchanging a brief greeting with her in the lobby to prevent her from slithering into his office. He even waits until the office is deserted, and the day is nearly over before stepping into the elevator. 

He doesn’t know how he got out scot-free, but Friday rolls around and he thinks that he just might pull this off.

But Yaga chooses today of all days to ask Nanami to stay behind to consolidate a few contracts that only Nanami—unfortunately—has access to. In normal circumstances, Nanami would decline and suggest pushing it off until Monday.

It’s even more unfortunate because he has plans tonight. He wants to help you make dinner and spend time with his daughter and he shouldn’t even have to think about excuses because he hates overtime. But, the consolidation is due Monday, and he wants to get it done now so that he can avoid the hassle later on.

You don’t sound upset when he calls you to break the news. Your usually calm voice is slightly downcast with a gentle sigh that you think he can’t hear.

“I guess it’s rare so I shouldn’t be mad but,” you complain weakly, your words tinged with a slight whine that makes Nanami smirk to himself. “I made Katsudon.” 

He groans, mouth instantly watering at the mere thought. 

“I’ll be home as soon as I can, my love. I promise.” 

You grumble a reply that makes him chuckle, a tender sound resonating deep in his chest as he listens to you tell him that you love him before hanging up the phone.

***

It’s seven o’clock and he’s fighting a migraine. But he’s almost done, and he’s determined to finish the last stack of contracts that require organizing before he can make his way home to you and Ulani.

As he pens his signature on the bottom of one contract, there’s a knock on his office door, prompting him to invite them in—assuming it’s merely the janitor since everyone else on the floor left hours ago. 

That’s all he thinks to himself; he focuses his attention on yet another clause, preparing to initial his name on the side when everything comes to a screeching halt. 

Because standing before him isn’t the janitor—it’s Pia.

Pia, clad in a tight black dress that not only defies workplace etiquette but also starkly contrasts the one she wore earlier in the day.  

Earlier that day, he followed her every movement as she got into her car and drove away, silently relieved that he could finally relax. Yet, here she is; her dark brown wavy hair hanging over her shoulder in a manner far too seductive for his comfort, and black heels clutched in her hands instead of adorning her feet.

It takes him only a second to assess how quickly he can maneuver past her without a word. He will take the steps if he has to, or maybe he can grab the remaining contracts and finish the rest at home and—

“Gojo always mentions how you never stay late anymore, so I’m surprised to see you here,” she purrs, her Italian accent grating against his ears, exacerbating his throbbing migraine behind his eyes. Her lust-filled, indecent intentions taint her dark brown eyes, reinforcing the strong urge within him to leave, quickly. 

He’s not the type of man to belittle a woman’s appearance because they all possess their own beauty. His mother hammered that among other things about the respect of women deep into his skull before he hit puberty. But he’s well-mannered enough to acknowledge beauty and let the line be drawn there—because other women aren’t you, and he doesn’t have a wandering eye. 

He never has and he never will.

“Is there a reason why you are here, Pia?” he questions, discreetly binding the stack of contracts together so he can swiftly grab them along with his blazer and push her out of the way if he has to. “Your project finished at the end of the business day, so I assumed you would be on your way back to Italy.”

She scoffs a deep and guttural noise that makes Nanami’s stomach twirl in distaste and intensifies the pounding behind his eyes. “You know exactly why I’m here, Kento. Don’t be dull. You never were back then, and you aren’t now.”

His stomach churns, the knots tightening with each passing moment between them. The tension becomes unbearable, culminating in a swift rise from his seat as he retrieves his blazer behind his large, deep red chair.

“You need to leave,” he demands, his voice devoid of the polite courtesy he had extended to her during her visit. He tucks the contracts beneath an arm, grabs his car keys, and makes for the door—but she’s quick to sidestep so her frame blocks his path. 

Irritation surges within him, an emotion that others—excluding you—are keen to elicit when they begin to waste his time. 

“Pia, please move out of the way so that I can go home.”

She arches a perfectly groomed eyebrow, adding to the torment coursing through his stomach. “So you’re saying you don’t even want to talk? It’s been years since we’ve seen each other, and you’ve done nothing but avoid me during my entire stay.” Her whiny, petulant tone and childlike frown only serve to trigger flashbacks to times when she didn’t get her way, intensifying the deep divide that caused their separation.

“And you don’t understand the reason why?” he retorts, irritation heavier and thick in his mouth. A frown etches itself onto his lips, and his patience dissipates in the tense air encircling them. 

A noise in the lobby—a noise that implies someone can be listening—makes his heart stammer in his chest and the hairs on the back of his neck rise. 

While she has an agenda, he does not. He refuses to allow others to lose respect for him in this office, thinking he indulges in infidelity during his free time when that couldn’t be further from the truth. He couldn’t care less about others’ opinions, except when it involves you and your relationship—that’s where he draws the line. 

Unaffected by his sarcastic remark, she delicately places a perfectly manicured hand on his chest. He’s quick to react, catching her wrist in a way that makes his blazer fall to the floor, pulling her hand away from him as his body begins to shake in frustration.

 “I don’t know where you’ve gotten the impression that I want anything with you, but I won’t be entertaining it. What we had was a long time ago and it won’t ever be reignited again. Try your best to understand that,” he states firmly.

“But—” she begins to protest.

“Enough, Pia. Leave. Now.” 

He isn’t asking nicely anymore, his head pounding, and the decision to simply push her out of the way is made. Just as he prepares to do so, the door swings open, and the person he longs to see the most but also wishes wasn’t here right now, rushes in.

“Ken, I thought I could bring you dinner and—” you stop mid-sentence, words wedged in your throat as you take in the scene in front of you. You’re holding a Tupperware container, the steam inside condensing along the edges.

Nanami with papers under one arm and the other dropping from a delicate wrist to flop down at his side, his hair disheveled from hours of musing, his face clearly disturbed. And Pia, beautiful and ethereal as usual as she whips around to look at you. 

Since that first day you met her, you haven’t encountered Pia again. And Kento’s unwavering loyalty and trust have provided no reason to entertain the thought of her. 

However, Nanami’s stiff stature, Pia’s tight dress that reveals a bit too much in the front, and the stiletto heels swinging from her finger in one hand make it abundantly clear to you why she is here. 

At seven o’clock at night.

With no one else around.

You want to shy away from the implication, to fend off your surprise with a shy chuckle, and let the poisonous current of insecurity draw you away like that time before. But Nanami had skillfully put those doubts to rest weeks ago. 

Now you’re just irritated.

“Pia? What are you doing here?” You keep your tone light, masking the annoyance bubbling inside you. Pia’s earlier sultry gaze has vanished, replaced by widened eyes and hands smoothing her already unwrinkled dress, anxiously. “Kento told me the project ended a few hours ago. Aren’t you flying back to Italy soon?”

She fumbles, her rose-tinted lips curling as she searches for something to say, gripping her heels tighter in her hand. It’s reminiscent of watching a child scrambling for an excuse after being caught with their hands in a cookie jar.

Nanami remains silent, astonished. In the past, any other woman daring to breathe his air while Pia was present would have been met with scathing words and threats. But now, that Pia is desperately trying to produce an excuse for her late presence within a workplace when she she should be on a flight home.

“She was just leaving, love,” Nanami interjects, trying his best to make the situation as simple as it can be. Pia agrees, blushing and nodding, hastily slipping her heels back on with hands seemingly covered in sweat.

Watching her struggle to secure her heels, her fingers slipping on the buckle, reignites a surge of confidence deep within you. The once persistent insecurity in her presence now feels like a mere joke. In this moment, she becomes the joke. 

And you want to savor every minute of it.

The next words spill from your mouth, impossible to contain. You wiggle the small Tupperware container in your hands, gesturing towards her and offering a shy but satisfied smile.

“I was just bringing my husband dinner,” you chuckle airily, the lie slipping from your lips with ease. You relish the reaction from them both. Pia’s hands slip on her heel strap, causing her to stumble. Nanami struggles to contain his composure, eyes wide as saucers, his breath caught in his throat as your words ring in his ears like a piercing siren.

“Kento is the only one on this floor, it’s awfully late and I doubt you would have left earlier without saying goodbye. Surely you—” you pause, pretending to be taken aback before leveling an accusatory gaze at her. She looks up from her hunched position, hands still fumbling with the straps of her heels, her eyes wide and beautifully tan skin appearing pale. You’re not one for pettiness, but the delight from the sight of her struggling courses through your veins. “Surely you’re not here with the intention to do something else, are you?” 

“No!” she quickly retorts, her voice both loud and tinged with a hint of nervousness that makes the corner of your lip twitch. “No of course not—”

“So what are you doing here?” you cut her off with a narrowing of your eyes, repeating your question from earlier with a touch less feigned innocence, your tone slightly more serious and impatient. 

“L-leaving actually! Just wanted to say goodbye to Kento before my flight in the morning,” she stammers, now standing three inches taller, maintaining an air of elegance and grace even as her embarrassment paints her cheeks red.

She hastily bids Nanami farewell—a choked and tight goodbye—, a lopsided and anxious smile directed at you, and stumbles once more as she hurriedly exits the room, a snort of amusement escaping your lips as she trips before disappearing from your sight.

You close the door behind her, shutting away her presence for good.

The room falls into silence, Nanami’s face turning a vibrant shade of red that forces you to suppress your laughter with every ounce of effort you can muster.

“Love, I can explain—,” he begins, but you promptly cut him off, a giggle escaping despite your best attempts to hold it back. 

You know he would never do anything. Nanami would probably take infinite shifts of overtime instead of letting a woman who was not you touch him. In fact, you heard the entire conversation before you rushed in, and it makes your heart flutter with love that is already overflowing for him. 

“It’s not funny,” he grumbles.

But it’s so funny to watch him squirm, his face burning even more and his movements awkward as he clutches the bundle of disheveled contracts in his hand. His expressions of frustration and his furrowed brow only serve to ignite a warmth in your stomach. 

You love to tease him. And now you’ve been given the perfect opportunity to make him sweat.

“There’s no need to explain, Ken. I’m just messing with you,” you reassure him, taking his free hand and gently pulling him back to his desk. Turning to face his still-nervous figure, you retrieve the papers from his grasp and place them neatly on his large mahogany desk. 

“I heard the entire conversation. I am curious though,” you begin, pressing him down into his chair. He’s silent as he watches you push the chair back a little, so you have room to stand between him and his desk. “What do you think she would have done if I hadn’t come in time?”

“Absolutely nothing because I don’t—” he starts, but his words are abruptly cut off by the touch of your hand gliding against the fabric of his chest. Unlike Pia’s touch, your fingertips radiate heat and beckon him in a way that has his cock twitching in his slacks. His heart skips a beat as he watches your own manicured nails circle the buttons of his dress shirt before undoing them quickly. “We can’t—”

“Why?” you interrupt, your voice low and hot, instantly drying up his throat. Your fingertips dance along the exposed skin of his chest, gently teasing him as your nail flicks against a pink nipple before trailing down between the contours of his abs. You tap your fingers along the downy hair that trails under his slack and his stomach bunches in response, twitching from the stimulation, his heart skipping and his throat tightening slowly. 

“Do you want me to stop?”

He doesn’t. God, he doesn’t, and the words ‘no’ are out of his mouth before he can stop them, giving you his consent even though he’s embarrassed out of his mind. His migraine becomes an insignificant thought, the pulsing from earlier falling into a slow ebb, eclipsed by the escalating desire coursing through his veins. 

Nanami has never been the type of man to do this sort of thing. While he likes to be inside you anytime he can, he cherishes the privacy that safeguards both himself and you, more. 

But he can’t lie to himself that the thought of something happening in this office with you hasn’t crossed his mind multiple times—especially when you used to work together.

The sound of you undoing his belt buckle has his heart racing, thumping loud and heavy in his chest and his face is on fire as he watches you release him from the confines of his pants, his cock already hard and leaking. 

You pull your bottom lip between your teeth, biting down and finding it difficult to contain your own desire from the sight of him. The area between your legs throbs as you trace your eyes down a cock that you’re intimately familiar with. Warm and achingly heavy, leaking with anticipation and pleading for your touch. His abs tense with a sharp intake of breath as you wrap your hand around him, a pleasurable hiss escaping his throat as he watches you stroke him languidly. 

You press your free hand into the arm of his chair, leaning in until your lips are mere inches apart. Inhaling his ragged breaths, you admire the way his deep brown eyes blow out, leaving only a ring of burnt umber for you to gaze into. 

Your grip on him has his mind foggy, desire overtaking any rational thoughts that he would normally use right about now. 

But you’re so good. 

You’re curling your wrist with every upward stroke just the way he loves and his abs bunch with every jolt of pleasure that zips inside of him.

He has to touch you, has to get his hands on you in some way to ground himself, and he instinctively reaches out for you when suddenly you tsk, pulling back slightly to create more distance between your lips.

“No touching.”

Oh.

You never deny him when you’re both like this. You always want his hands on you. The fact that you’re now denying him, gazing at him with a dangerous look in your eyes, shocks him. And it arouses him to a degree that makes him choke on a breath. 

He sags back into his chair, gasping for breath when your hands trail down to cup his balls. He digs his fingers into the chair’s armrests, scratching red leather, and he’s desperate to keep himself from cumming too soon.

“Did you—did you lock the door?” he manages to gasp, grasping onto any shred of coherent thought he has left.

You tilt your head in confusion, gaze at him with an indifferent stare, and then shrug nonchalantly before sagging down to your knees in front of him. The sight makes his toes curl in his expensive Chukka boots.

The rational part of his mind urges him to get up and check the door. Just get up and make sure the door is at least locked before anything else—but then his thoughts are short-circuiting and stuttering as your tongue slides wet up his shaft and you swallow him down to the base without a care in the world.

The back of his head slams against the cushioned chair as a surge of pleasure courses through his veins. You’re wet and sloppy, teasing him with your gaze as your mouth stretches from the thickness of him—and he’s struggling to hold on, struggling to keep his orgasm at bay even though it’s right there.

He tries to reach for you—tries to card his hands through your hair but you smack it away and glare at him with such a ferocity that he’s embarrassed for even attempting. 

Marketing templates. Morning traffic. A cold cup of coffee. 

He thinks of everything he can to resist the warmth in his stomach and the coil tightening along his spine; because you suck his cock in a way that makes him fidget in his chair, humming and gurgling into his ears in a wicked melody that’s making him go insane.

You’re enjoying every second of this and it only makes him blush harder with just how exposed he is to you right now. The mere weight of his cock in your mouth and the slightly salty taste of him makes your panties damp, your cunt pulsating and aching to be filled. 

And you’ll make sure it happens.

So you patiently wait until he’s panting harshly, his grip on the arm of his chair growing tighter and tighter. You wait until that crazed look dances in his eyes—the one you’re so familiar with right before he cums. And right when he’s on the cusp, you pull away. 

He exhales hard and sinks into his chair almost in relief as the band inside of him relaxes slightly, desperately trying to catch his breath and hissing as the cold air of his office wraps around his wet cock.

“Pia really did have a plan, didn’t she?” you playfully tease, standing to card your fingers through his blonde locks. Your fingertips glide across the faint traces of sweat, your hand moving along with the shake of his head in response to you, his gaze unfocused.

You kick off your shoes, hook your thumbs into the corner of your leggings, and slide them down and off your legs—his eyes following every inch of creamy brown skin that is revealed to him. 

You’re wearing an oversized sweater, a soft cashmere that he got you simply because he wanted, and it now covers your faint stretch-marked thighs. They are your battle scars, your own reminders of the journey your body underwent to grow and birthed the beautiful daughter you both have now.

His breath falters as he watches you gracefully perch on his large desk, placing your legs on top and bending your knees so your fuzzy sock-covered feet press against the rich mahogany. Leaning back on one arm, you effortlessly open your legs for him. His naturally narrow eyes widen at the sight of your white damp panties, and he longs to lick, suck, and slide his cock inside the very place they conceal.

The glint in your eyes is mischievous and taunting, delighting in the way he struggles to stay seated even as you slide one of your hands down into your panties.

“Can I—” he starts, but you cut him off.

“No.” 

You leave no room for argument and don’t offer anything else as you begin to circle your clit leisurely, arching into the touch as echoes of pleasure hum to life. It’s not long before you’re pushing your panties to the side to expose yourself to the open air. Your cunt throbs with desire when you hear Nanami groan softly under his breath. 

You’ve never been this bold, never entertained the thought of anything voyeuristic. But Nanami seems to awaken something within you, something you’re slowly embracing. He’s so shy about sex outside of the privacy of your home, and it only makes this more exciting that he’s even entertaining it now.

“Did she do this with you?” you ask him, your voice breathless as you sink two fingers into your wet cunt. The corner of Nanami’s eye twitches from the sight and you swallow down a giggle that threatens to escape. “Did she ever make you watch her while she touched herself?” 

You moan softly as you curl your fingers up as best as you can from your angle. Nanami’s fingers dig into the leather of his chair with barely contained restraint. 

“Answer me, Kento.”

“No. She didn’t.”

Satisfied with his answer, a sense of pride flaps in your chest, and you gleefully continue fingering yourself in front of him. It always takes you a while to get off with your fingers, so you use that as ammunition to watch Nanami squirm. 

You watch the way his exposed muscular pectorals move with his increasing breaths. You watch the way his cock twitches, hot and heavy against his stomach, leaking precum onto his abs. And you soak up the way he traces his eyes along every inch of you, leaving nothing without his attention.

When you finally cum, sharp and abrupt, he’s hanging on by a thread—ready to abandon your command to be still, yank you to him, and sink inside. 

He watches your cunt flutter around your fingers as you slowly come down from your high, gasping like an angel into the office air. Breathless, you stand on shaky legs and move to stand before him, lifting slick-covered fingers to his mouth which he readily opens without command, desperate to taste you any time he can. He groans softly against your fingers, eyes drooping, tongue sliding wet between your digits. The sight makes your cunt throb weakly, faint embers that had just died down, licking to life again.

You taste like everything to him, everything he wants and everything he needs.

But it’s not on the menu tonight.

You straddle his lap wordlessly and smack his hands away when he tries to wrap large hands around your waist. He swallows his frustration, yearning to touch you, yet willing to comply for the promise of more.

Using the remnants of your arousal between your legs, you coat him, stroking him enough to make sure you take him effortlessly, and then you guide him to your entrance and sink down to the hilt. The feel of him inside you is glorious, stretching you in the way you like that makes your cunt tremble to life around him, grateful for his presence once again. 

“Fuck,” he hisses—chokes with eyes squeezed shut, hand gripping the chair until it groans. You’re so wet, so fucking warm and tight that he’s shaking--practically trembling and swallowing a whimper as he fights the urge to grab your hips.

You didn’t need much to get used to him. You’re a masochist when he stretches you—you crave the way your cunt tenses from the intrusion, gripping him like a vice.

You’re a champ, enveloping him and giving him little time to acclimate before you’re bouncing on his cock with a finesse that would make any woman jealous.

You slide both hands into the hair at his nape and pull so that he cranes his neck back to gaze up at you. He’s slack-jawed, panting with breaths that tickle your lips, his eyes heavy with desire. 

“Did she ever fuck you like this, hmm? Come into your office when you would work long hours and ride you until you couldn’t see straight?” 

He can only shake his head ‘no’ in response, his throat too dry to speak, his lungs burning. He craves your touch, your lips on him, something to anchor him as he struggles to keep up. It’s the only way he can stay sane when the neurons in his brain are frying by the second. He begs wordlessly, groans deeply up into your mouth, pleading for anything.

And thankfully, you grant him a searing kiss. Your lips mold against his, tongues battling for dominance that he willingly surrenders to. His every thrust hits that perfect spot within you, brushing away hints of oversensitivity and bringing forth faint pleasure that makes you dig your hands into blond tresses and pull tight.

The pleasure caresses the insides of your thighs and tightens the muscles of your legs. Every brush of your clit against the skin of his abs shoots electricity throughout your cunt and up to the base of your spine, igniting a simmering fire that begins to heat deep pools of lava that reside there.

You pull away from his lips with a harsh moan, gasping into the warm air of his office, riding him harder to the point that the legs of his chair begin to squeak.

He knows you well. He knows how you get demanding and delirious and incoherent when you ride him, and he loves to count the seconds until that switch in your brain goes off. And it’s not even a second later when—

“Fuck, you feel so fucking good. So, so good,” you moan against the skin of his lips. “Fucking me just the way I like Ken.”

He watches every move you make, tracing his eyes over the contours of your face and the way your loose curls cling to creamy brown cheeks.

His eyes roll when he picks up your whispered chants. You’re a woman possessed and you take what you want—when you want. And he gives and gives with every yes, yes, more Ken, you’re so good, please, please, please yes!

Your pupils are blown and glazed over with desire, but suddenly your brows furrow in frustration. 

“She walked in here in a tight dress and high heels looking to get you in the same position that I have you now. But at the end of the day, you’re mine.”

There’s not an ounce of coyness in your words. You’re so serious, firm, and unyielding that it makes him shudder, a groan sliding from his parted lips, his eyes rolling into the back of his head and—

“Look at me,” you command, voice low, panting from exertion and the feel of your body beginning to draw tight with embers of a powerful orgasm. His eyes roll back without hesitation, locking with yours. “Unless—unless some other circumstance tears us apart, you—you are mine. Pia can have all the money and fame, but she will never have you. I do.”

“Yes,” he whispers, the word tumbling from his lips without faltering. His hips struggle to keep up and his thighs begin to stiffen as pleasure begins to curl deliciously so that his hands dig into the chair. His fingers slip against the leather, sweaty and tingling.

“You’re the father of my child.”

“Yes,” he chants again, breathless and quivering as the rubber band along his spine grows taught, stretching and shaking from the tension.

“You sleep next to me. You kiss me. You fuck me.”

“Yes, only you—only you.”

You tremble from his words, satisfaction oozing like hot thick globs along your skin. “That’s right, Kento,” you purr as your hips begin to roll against him, your clit carrying currents of pleasure through your veins, that pool of lava at the base of your spine boiling and rising to the brim.

“Please,” he whispers, his plea pulling you from your desire-induced haze. You look down at him, admire the flush of his cheeks, the warmth of his breath against the collarbone of your sweater, the sweat that beads along his hairline. “Please.”

“Please what?” you tease, trying to maintain a playful demeanor even though your hips are beginning to ache from overuse. You come to a stop on top of him, your breaths mingling together.

“Can I touch you?” he asks, always gentle and caring, even when he’s bursting from the seams. You love him so fucking much.

“Will you make me cum?”

“Always,” he responds without hesitation, his words filled with conviction. You lean in, pressing your lips against his, savoring the affection he willingly gives you. When you pull away, you brush thick blonde locks from his forehead, exposing more of his sharp features that will never fail to make your heart race.

“Then touch me, Ken,” you whisper, your voice laced with desire and anticipation.

Without wasting a moment, he swiftly lifts you in his arms, his cock still nestled inside as he carries you towards his desk.

Your breath catches as you stare up at him, the sound of papers scattering to the floor filling the air. He pulls your sweater up, revealing every inch of your faintly stretch-marked belly, before tugging down a cup of your bra, heady eyes watching as one of your breasts spills from its confines. 

He’s too fast. You fumble for words and let out a surprised yelp when he yanks your waist toward the edge of the desk. He presses your knees as close to your chest as you will allow, and then he slams into you once—and then twice before picking up a rhythm that makes your toes curl.

He devours you, tongue flicking and swirling wet and dripping around your exposed nipple as he pounds into you unabashedly, the desk squeaking and groaning from his efforts.

All bravado that you had earlier splinters away with each smack of his muscular hips against you, the skin of his abs brushing against your clit deliciously, coaxing moan after moan from your lips. His tongue flicks your nipple again before he bites the hardened bud, and your cunt flutters—clenches around him, your thighs beginning to twitch even though they’re pressed to your chest.

“I’m all yours. Always yours,” he whispers against your lips, blonde tresses gliding against your cheeks.

You hope there’s no one on this floor, or that no one has decided to come back for something because the last thing they need to hear is Nanami Kento, Director of Strategic Partnerships, railing his girlfriend on his over-priced, too-large mahogany desk.

You can barely breathe, your moans growing in pitch, the sound of skin on skin echoing through his office, your hands sliding up to dig fingers into the skin of his back. You don’t even have the chance to tell him you’re close. 

The stroke of him inside you, the slap of his skin against your bundle of nerves, and the feel of his mouth trailing along the sweaty column of your neck with a deep and heavy cum for me baby breaks the seal inside of you.

The lava boils over—pools along your bones, hot and delicious and caressing every nerve ending within you, your cunt squeezing him without remorse. You can’t help the loud moan that shakes from your lips, growing in pitch when the pleasure seems to spike and overheat you in oversensitivity, your entire body tingling and shaking like an exposed nerve.

Nanami takes every ounce of pleasure you offer. Everything, every part of you is precious—treasured in a way that no one else will ever be able to comprehend. He takes every breath, every hitch in your throat, every droplet of sweat on your skin, every whimper and moan and scratch of your nails against him. He savors it all—needs it to survive, to know that you have chosen him, that you want him, that you love him.

You’re the only woman who makes Pia tremble and stumble over her words. You are a force to be reckoned with, and he knew that the moment you snapped at him when you first met. You’re fierce in the way you love, strong with the words you say, and so fucking beautiful that he cant help but feel proud of just how threatened Pia was by the sight of you.

Those words you spoke confidently to her have played like a record in his head since you forced him into his chair.

“I was just bringing my husband some dinner.”

My husband.

My husband.

He’s thought about it, so many fucking times. And he swears it will happen. Soon.

One day you’ll be his wife.

His wife.

His wife.

His thoughts come to a sudden halt because he’s cumming, catching him off guard, that rubber band snapping in half, pleasure yanking from the base of his spine and pulling a harsh groan from his chest as he spills inside of you.

His hands slip from behind your knees and smack onto the wood of his desk and you wrap your legs around his waist as you both regain your breath. He’s putty against you, melted and loose and molding against every crevice of you as he takes in your intoxicating scent. Lilac from your body wash, shea butter from your lotion, and a hint of cooking grease that wafted onto your skin when you made dinner.

Your fingers lovingly comb through his sweaty hair, your legs blissfully achy, your cunt satisfied and throbbing, and your heart coming to normal sinus rhythm in your chest.

“Ome is probably wondering where I am,” you finally speak, breaking the tranquil silence of his office. “She offered to watch Ulani when I left.” Nanami hums against you, a low and gravelly sound that’s typical of him when he’s ready to go to sleep. “Bring the rest of the contracts home. No more overtime.”

As if he would even entertain the thought of being in this office a moment longer. “Okay,” he agrees, pressing his lips to your neck. He still has his arms around you, still connected to you despite having softened inside you minutes ago. 

But you don’t mind. You cherish these moments with him, holding them dear in your heart, knowing that each one is a gift.

Because you’re the only one who can revel in the way he needs you, the way he craves having his hands on you, the way he murmurs his adoration into your skin. And you love every bit of it. You love him.

“Will she be back?” you ask, a hint of hesitance in your tone.

He shakes his head, groaning softly as you scratch that spot behind his ear. “No. Never.”

“She better not,” you jest, an eyebrow lifting to the ceiling, gazing at no one. “If she pulls shit like that again, there won’t be a happy ending for you.”

He barks out a laugh against your neck, lifting his head to take in your blissed-out form. Fatigue weighs heavy on your eyes, your lashes delicately curled, your hair spread out on his desk to make you look like the most otherworldly thing he has—will ever see. 

“I wouldn’t dream of it, love.”

He kisses you tenderly once and then twice, before resting his head against your chest, the soft cashmere of your sweater caressing his cheek. His eyes catch something on the corner of his desk.

The Tupperware of food that you brought still emits steam, a homemade Katsudon by your hands, just for him.

His heart thrums in his chest, full and filled with warmth.

His wife.

Soon.

Thanks for reading!

©mysteria157, all rights reserved. DO NOT copy, plagiarize, reupload, modify, or translate (without permission) my work to other accounts and platforms.

[teasteeper]

street fighter bf!hendery when he accidentally hurts reader (physically or mentally) and then he regrets it and comforts her please please

18+ minors dni, f!reader, smut, "daddy"

i've thought about this for a while and i don't see sf bf!hen physically hurting reader ever.. his constant training makes it so that he has a lot of control over his strength, and when he's with you, safe in your apartment, he's in a completely different zone. with you he can let his guard down and rest his sore body, using his body for good and making himself feel better by being soft with you. it helps him to see his bruised and bloodied hands cradling your face, brushing through your hair, feeling your soft skin.. you're his reward for all the scumbags he's beaten half to death.

mentally though.. he doesn't have that same control over his emotions, starting each day with a joint to numb any nagging thoughts. his days off are spent bouncing you on his cock, his big hands gentle on your lower back and the back of your head as he holds you face down on the bed. but his words can be condescending and mean, only enough to get you whining and clenching around his cock, arching your back and pouting for a kiss.

but sometimes he loses himself, getting meaner and meaner as you squirm under him, your big eyes filling with tears and hands pushing on his chest as he pounds your tight cunt.

“stop pushing or i’ll pull out. thought you were my good girl”

“why’re you crying, baby? acting like you aren’t a toy for my cock”

he doesn’t realize you’re upset, too fucked out as he fucks his cum into you, smothering you with a big hand over your mouth, getting messy with your tears and drool, “so pretty when you just shut up and take it”

he’d notice that you’re quiet the next day, asking you what’s wrong since he can barely remember the night before. “you were mean..” you mumble, burying your face into his neck, your small voice making him hate himself. i think he'd spend the day doing whatever you want to make it up to you, buying you things as a way of saying sorry.

he asks "are you sure?" when you grind against his lap later that night, eyes getting dark when you give him a nod and push his shirt up his torso. he lets you set the pace and use him how you need, fighting the urge to buck his hips up as you ride him. "pretty girl" he mutters, slumped against the couch with one hand behind his head and the other rolling one of your nipples between his fingers, pinching lightly and watching your skin flush to match his bruised knuckles. "show daddy how pretty you look when you cum, baby", pushing two fingers into your mouth and groaning out when you bite down, gushing on his cock as your hips stutter. "that's it" he rasps, pushing his hips up to sink further into you, pushing out your slick to drip down his cock.

[lvieee]

5,200.04 km away | shen ricky

pairing : nonidolricky x reader

genre : fluff, angst

sypnosis : being in a long distance relationship can be difficult at times, communication’s the key to the problem, but what happens if you don’t?

staring at your phone, his contact name flashed on your screen. isn’t he supposed to be in class right now? why’s he calling you all of a sudden? you hesitated for a moment before swiping to answer, “hey, what’s up aren’t you supposed to be in class right now?” you ask him.

he sighed at the other end, the weariness evident in his breath as a result from a long day “my professor called in sick so he gave us shit tons of assignments to do instead, starting to question my life choices to be honest.” he says from the other end.

leaning back on your chair, you let out a chuckle at what he said “hold on a little longer, it’s almost sem break.” you tell him trying to lift up the mood a little.

“i miss you” he confesses out of the blue. the words hanging in the air, heavy with the weight of the distance that separates the two of you. you could tell from his voice how tired he is.

“i miss you too rui” you reply, words hanging a bit uncertain, unsure of how to offer comfort across the distance.

you and ricky were what people would call high school sweethearts, you would have lunch together with his and your friends, walk together to class, have study dates—he’d tutor you in subjects you didn’t do quite well in which you are still amazed at how good he is at it, and you’d do the same for him to return the favor. but all changed after graduation, when the two of you seperated going on different paths.

the both of you have talked about this a few times before, even when you two were still in what people usually call the “talking phase”. curious you’d bring up this topic to him as you two would be graduating not very long later.

you both knew the consequences of getting into a long distance relationship, the hardest one being not being able to see each other face to face for a long period of time, feeling lonely even though you have a partner. but hey it’s not like we’re living back in the days like before, even then people would send out letters to their loved ones, you can still talk to him through messaging and calls.

but its not so easy sometimes seeing not just your friends but also everyone on social media doing regular couple stuff, going on dinner dates, going to the movies together. sometimes you just wished you could smash through whatever’s keeping you and ricky from doing the same.

despite all the challenges, you two were the ones who agreed to continue this relationship in the first place, hoping that all efforts the both of you put in at the moment will one day pay off.

“anyways, any plans on sem break?” he asks you through the other end breaking the silence “haven’t really thoufht about it yet, what about you?” you respond asking him back

“same, just want everything to be done honestly. so much things to do, i’m gonna go crazy.” he rambles

“when’s ur break starting?” you ask him pulling your back up from the chair fixing your posture to sit up straight.

“in about three weeks i guess?” he responded back, crossing his arms placing it on the table, head leaning forward closer to his screen to get a better look at you. “what are you doing?” he asks you.

you then take your phone, bringing your camera to show him what you’re working on — “oof, 加油” (jiā yóu — good luck)

putting back your phone to where it was earlier, still showing your face, you suddenly yawned, reminding you of how late it is and how you should call it a day and go to sleep.

“go to sleep dear, it’s already so late there.” he reminds you — though he still wants to spend more time with you even through the phone, your different time zones don’t allow you to.

“10 more minutes” you responded eyes still glued to the screen not wanting to sleep yet with the amount of undone tasks you have.

you can’t deny, the time you two are spending on each other are getting lesser day by day, assignments adding up as soon as you finish one, different time zones — him wanting to stay up to talk to you on times you are free, but you not letting him cause he has class the next day even though you know deep down how much you want to spend time with him, but you don’t want to be the reason he’s tired the next day. and the same goes for you as well, you wanting to stay up late to talk to him, but him not letting you do so for the same reasons.

its usually times when you’re free, he’s either sleeping or he’s at class. so sundays it is when you two could catch up after a busy week.

despite all its negatives, there were also times when he would ask you out on “virtual dates” like watching movies together, playing games late at night screaming and laughing at how dumb the both of you are at the game, there were also times where he would match up with your time just so you two could have a meal together just like how it used to be back in the days—and by that i mean he would not eat for a couple hours to match up with your time just you two could dine together even through online. he’d set up his place, place candles on his desk, get a wine glass just to fill it with anything but alcohol.

“what’s with the candles?” you ask him laughing. “omg is that wine?” you say noticing the wine glass filled with what you thought was wine. “its grape juice.” hearing him say that it’s not made you laugh even more continued by him showing you the bottle of grape juice and suddenly making tapping noises on it “asmr” he smiling as he whisperes to his microphone only making you burst out laughing even more at his acts.

“did you change your lights?” you ask after noticing the change of ambience in his place which wasn’t usually this warm. “yeah isn’t it nice” he responds to your question while looking around at his surroundings. “what are you having for dinner mr shen?” you ask him teasingly. the effort he put in to make the it feel like a fancy restaurant while you’re in your room, dressed in loungewear and just a cup of cup noodles in front of you cause you didn’t feel like cooking or ordering from outside save money.

he then shows you the meal he cooked just now, he’s definitely improved his cooking skills after living alone for a few months now. “oooo looks nice, how long did it take you to make that?” you ask him, trying to keep the conversation going.

he takes a bite into the chicken he made “hmm about 40 ish minutes, it wasn’t as difficult as it thought it would be.” he said after chewing on his food. “i should add more pepper wait here i’ll go grab it.” he says before leaving to grab the seasoning and continue to have dinner with you after months of being away.

not only virtual dinner dates, he would send you gifts, buy you things out of nowhere and it suddenly arriving at your home. he would also send you packages from his place filled with snacks you’ve always wanted to try, snacks he recommends, random things he bought, and we can’t forget; his hoodies or sweaters that he made sure to spray with his perfume before sending it out to you.

not only him, but you too would send him packages filled with snacks you want him to try, random things and hand written letters you write on your freetime. sometimes, you two would wait for the package to arrive at your homes, and unbox them on facetime together to get each other’s reactions.

you could be doing the dishes or even your laundry while talking, rambling about your day while he sits there watches and listens to you rant about your teammate not doing their part on the group assignment.

he could be cooking, or even cleaning which he still hasn’t gotten used to since he used to rarely do housework back then before college, he’d call you, asking you what to put in his soup, how you cook certain meals or sometimes at days when he’s not in the mood to cook, he’d just order takeout and would still call you, have you decide on what he should eat.

as the end of semester came rolling round, you two found yourselves swallowed by the relentless tide of responsibilities. what used to be daily messages and calls that bridged the distance became less frequent, late night calls where either him or you used to talk, relax and do anything turned into brief and hurried messages of words of encouragement, pushing each other to do their best on their examinations.

ricky : still alive?

you : barely

ricky : goodluck tomorrow, don’t stay up too late.

you : you too ❤️

you : totally bombed the test

hours later

ricky : hey, sorry was studying just now.

ricky : bombed mine too

you : oh shut up, you say that then end up acing the test.

ricky : not this time

you : still up?

late night cramming, and early morning revisions and also time zones left little room for the usual routine that you used to have, past messages and call histories turned into bittersweet reminders of what once was.

as the last exam wraps up, a heavy silence settled between the two of you. weeks of stress and exhaustion left little to no energy for the emotional reconnection the both of you desperately needed.

you : good luck on your last exam!

ricky : thanks, you too dear 🤍

each passing day bringing more tension. both survived the exams but it feels like you’re slowly loosing something in the process.

after days of suffocating silence, you reached your breaking point. the weight of unspoken words and the distance became too much to bare. feeling even more upset after the way he responded to your message; like he was in such a big hurry. how he wouldn’t start conversations without you talking to him first.

ricky : what are you up to?

ricky : i miss youuu

ricky : wanna call?

reading his message felt like salt on an open wound, he’d just text you like as if the past few days of no contact hadn’t bothered you.

seeing his name pop up on the side of your screen, you think about it for a moment before picking up. in the dimly lit room, his face glowed softly, illuminated by the bright computer screen in front of him.

“hey” he says while adjusting his thin framed glasses he usually wears. “what are you up to?” he asks you. you didn’t feel like giving him a long answer on what you’ve been up to these days when he hadn’t made effort on contacting you. “nothing much” you say nonchalantly hoping he wouldn’t question you even more.

“oh” was all he let out to your response. you two then stayed there in silence, not saying a word to each other despite being on call. he’s doing whatever he’s doing on his computer and you’re scrolling through your social media not really wanting to start a conversation with him.

you know it is quite unreasonable that you picked up the call with zero intentions on talking to him just to get his reaction but you hadn’t gotten one so far. it was like he was fine with you two not talking.

this made you even more upset. “i need to go, talk to you later bye.” you said before hanging up on the call. he didn’t even have time to respond before you hung up that quickly.

but on his side he found it wierd that you changed all of a sudden, you suddenly not talking as much. daily updates from you became less often, almost none ad the day passes by. assuming that you were busy and he didn’t want to bother you. he decided to wait for you to initiate contact then go with the flow.

as hours passed by without your usual updates and messages, he began contemplating the silence. maybe you truly were busy and had no time to talk. hesitant to disturb your presumed busy schedule, he refrained from reaching out, leaving the the distance even more quiet. with each passing hour, it felt like the uncertainty was getting even cloudier without the usual chitchat.

they say communication’s the key to a healthy relationship. right? so then why are you so persistent on not talking to him, basically giving him the silent treatment. waiting for him to make the first move. you very badly wanted the silence to end, but why are you so hesitant on reaching out? the questions flood in your mind—does he not care? does he not find it wierd that you’re not reaching out as much? is he seeing someone else? does he still wanna be with you? frustration creeps in as your thoughts spiral.

as days go by, still no contact. admist the chaos of your thoughts and the akward silence, there’s this tiny hope—maybe he’s going through the same uncertainty. then it hits you that this isn’t a solo mission and that you should communicate through problems like this.

you : still up?

you shoot him a text, hoping he’s still up wich you were pretty sure he was. you knew his sleeping schedule, especially during breaks when he’d stay up till the crack of dawn, either glued to his computer or just chilling. late night talks, scrolling through social media, gaming. he wasn’t exactly an early bird.

so you sit there, waiting for his response hoping he’d reply quicker. then you see those three dots pop up—he’s typing. feeling even more nervous, wondering what’s on his mind in the middle of the night.

ricky : yeah, can we talk?

surprised at his response. it was like he could read your mind even through the distance. getting up from your bed, sitting on your chair you turn on your laptop to video call him.

waiting for him to pick up, you scroll through your phone to ease your mind. you then hear your laptop notify you that he’s picked up. “hey” he says breaking the silence.

“hey ricky” you greet him back. which was unsual—you’d always call him by nicknames, babe, dear, love etcetc. him hearing you call him by his name sounded wierd.

“so…” you say after taking a deep breath. “how’ve you been?” he asks you but it was akward this time. “nothing much, you?” you respond, asking him the same question. hearing him click his tounge you could tell he was frustrated “look, i- to be honest with you im pretty sure you’ve noticed already, we haven’t been talking as much.” he says straight to the point, quickly which he does when he’s nervous.

you stared at your screen for a second not knowing how to respond. but part of you felt relieved that he also felt the same way. “i know this might be wierd for me to say all of a sudden but did i do anything wrong? it’s killing me that we’re not talking.” he asks you genuinely confused.

your heart skips a beat hearing him say that. his unexpected honesty catches you by surprise. “i- it’s just that i noticed you haven’t been very active these past few days you don’t respond to my messages like how you used to, i know you’ve been busy with exams and all, i understand that but it just kind of continued till after exams which kind of confused me to be honest. i assumed you really were busy so i thought it was better for me not to bother you so much.” you explained, coming clean to what you’ve been feeling lately—“and…to be honest with you too, i have been wanting to talk to you about this past few days ago, i just hadn’t got the courage to.. i’m sorry.” you apologized.

giving him the silent treatment wasn’t going to solve the problem. so you thought it would be best to be honest with him and talk to him about what’s been on your mind.

taking a deep breath, processing what you just said earlier “i actually thought the same about you, you haven’t been very active. and i figured you were caught up in stuff” he says feeling bad, all this happened because of miscommunication.

“yeah, i get that” you acknowledge, feeling relieved that you’re both on the same page, getting what each other’s saying in your conversation. “we totally should’ve talked about it sooner, huh?”

you chuckle softly “yeah, maybe we’re not so mind reading savvy as we thought.”

“promise me you’ll talk to me if we have any problems?” he asks you putting up his pinky making a pinky promise. “yeah” you reply also putting up your pinky.

as the conversation continues, you both realise you’ve been on the same tricky journey. it’s like a lightbulb moment, and you feel the tension melt away replaced by a sense of connection after confusion.

the chat goes on, it’s like the fog lifts. back to goofy emojis, jokes, and laughs. leaving the tension an issue behind.

“any plans yet?” he asks you thinking about going to yoir place this sem break. “no not really, you?” you ask him back.

“should i go to your place?” he asks you, tilting his head slightly while looking at you through his screen. surprised, “what really?” you ask him getting excited over the thought of being able to see him again after months being away from each other.

“it’s up to you, you know” he says making it a choice for you to decide. “yeah of course” you say excited. “when tho?” you ask him while thinking of what you two should do when he visits, food he needs to try, places you two should go; places you wanted to go but couldn’t cause you didn’t want to be alone, no. cause you wanted to go with him.

“next week? tuesday or wednesday?” he replies while looking at available flights from his to your place. “tuesday, tuesday aahh im so excited.”

“right, then tuesday it is”

part 2

[tempting-andromeda]

Could you do some artist head canons with eagle flies and charles? (Maybe john and/or arthur too?) like they are the readers muse for most of their works?

(Sorry if this is too broad, i just love your work sm!)

Artist s/o headcanons

Characters: Eagle Flies, Charles Smith, Arthur Morgan, John Marston

Eagle flies

Likes to look at your drawings

Even if you don’t allow him to

Once he sees you small doodles of him he gets so flustered

Stares at it for hours

He’s exited you found him interesting enough to draw him

He doesn’t confront you about it but he does tell Paytah

Hes so excited to be like “yeah they draw! And they drew me!” And Paytah already knows because eagle flies has the worst tendency to just zone out and you take advantage of that

Gets embarrassed but now he’s like… conscious about zoning out

If you ask him to pose he does so without any hesitation!

Likes to watch you draw

Leans over your shoulder and watched how you know exactly where to place the shading

It’s all very interesting to him

He likes when you don’t hide some of his traits when you draw him

When you include the scars on his face, his sharp cheekbones, etc

He feels nice knowing you noticed those things about him

Charles Smith

He knows you draw and you’re quite the artist but doesn’t expect to be your muse

Likes to support your art but tries to keep himself out of it to not disturb you

Once he sees a sketch of himself he gets so flustered

He doesn’t feel so mean and large when you draw him

He feels soft

The main focus isn’t his furrowed brows or dark under eyes

It’s anything else but you still drew them

You still noticed them and didn’t pretend that he looked better without

Thinks it’s sweet when you draw him whom he’s working

He doesn’t see the beauty in it but you seem too and who is he to argue

Does ask for playful requests though

Has asked you to draw random animals doing human things just to humor you

Tries to ignore the warm feeling in his chest whenever you draw him though

He likes it but he doesn’t want to seem too egotistical

He just likes that you see him differently than he does

Arthur Morgan

He’s used to being pulled out of his comfort zone

Not once in his life as he ever thought “hmm I want someone to draw me”

But one day he catches you drawing him and his heart bursts

He knows a bit about art

He doesn’t use many nice things just a pencil and paper, not wanting to focus on anything all too much so he can get by

He knows art is difficult if you want to make it look good

So when he finds out you’re drawing him? He’s flattered

His hands feel clammy and his cheeks feel hot

So when you ask him to pose or if you can draw him he nearly rejects you but he quickly recovers and just asks that you don’t make it a habit

Truthfully he wants you to make it a habit

He wants to see how you see him

Is he mean and dumb looking or is he just a guy

It’s incredibly intimate to him and he doesn’t know why

He likes looking over then, lazily chewing on his nail as he looks at one of your paintings of his eyes

Will say that you’re painting the wrong man and that your picture is a different man than him but it’s special to him

John Marston

Can’t pose for shit

He’s stiff and awkward

But sometimes you catch him when he’s distracted

He’s whittling or polishing his gun and he looks…calm

He’s definitely someone you have to draw off guard

If he knows what you’re doing he’s making it awkward for the both of you

Will smile but it’s just teeth and his face is blank

But when you catch him off guard he looks so calm

Or when he’s sleeping

He likes looking at your drawings and looking at how you see him

He didn’t let you draw him because of his scars at first but now he liked seeing you draw them

You put in just as much detail like you refuse to forget them

It makes him feel nice

He does tease though

“Why didn’t you add my rugged muscles?”

[mochimoqa]

Hiii I just recently hurt myself accidentally while cooking 😭 so can I request how would you write any of the Moon Boys comforting the reader who feels insecure of scars or marks on their body. Would appreciate it a lot 💗

Hello, anon!

I'm so sorry that you hurt yourself :(

But nothing like a good moon boys x reader will fix that :]

WARNING: Some cursing and Intense Fluff 🤭

...

"OW- Fucking shit-" Y/n screamed at the pain of extreme heat touching their skin. You turned off the stove and went to the restroom to grab your mini med kit.

"Son of a b—" You mumbled to yourself.

You've gotten hurt plenty of times. Either from cooking, activities, etc. You've gotten insecure over the years because of the scars and marks from different activities.

The one time where you were frying chicken and the hot oil splutter on your skin. Leaving some marks on you.

You turned on the cold water from your sink and let the burn somewhat fix the burn.

You sat on the floor and opened the med kit. The irritation of your skin was a bit bad. You grabbed some aloe gel and gently placed it on your burn.

"Ow-" You winced at the pain.

While you were doing this treatment, you heard a knock at the door.

Keys jangling and swung open the door.

"Love, I'm home!"

Oh, goodie! Steven's here.

"Ah, shit-" You panicked and quickly hid the medical supplies.

"Love? Y/n! Where are you?" He was pacing around the house til he found you in the bathroom.

You were covering your hand behind your back.

"Ah, there you are! Marc, Jake and I started to become a little worried there." He hugged you tightly and kissed your forehead.

"No, no, I'm always here, baby." You chuckled nervously.

Steven cupped your face and looked into your eyes. God, his cute dark eyes always get to you.

"I feel like you're hiding something..."

Your eyes widened slightly and chuckled nervously.

"What? No-"

He squeezes your face a bit tight.

You instantly knew that this wasn't Steven anymore and it was Marc. Steven was the more gentle of the boys.

"Y/n, I know you're lying to me."

"I- no, I'm not-"

"Yes, you are."

Shit, you've been caught red-handed. (No pun intended.)

"Okay, fine. You got me." You put your burned hand in front of him.

"I burned myself while cooking..."

God, this was so embarrassing to you. You've had too many scars and marks on yourself, you thought for sure they were gonna leave you.

"The burn doesn't look too bad." He grabbed your hand and examined the injury.

"Huh? You- You're not gonna leave me?"

His eyes shot up to you.

"Why would I ever wanna do that?"

"I- because of all of the scars and marks I have on my body... you don't think it's embarrassing?"

"No?"

Marc paused for a moment and seeming zoned out. He was probably talking to Steven and Jake.

"Steven said that he would never leave you."

He looked at your wound and paused again.

"Jake said that he would be stupid to even do that."

You chuckled lightly at their responses.

"Really?" You sighed and leaned against the sink.

"Mhm, and I agree with the both of 'em. You're literally too good to be true, Y/n. Sometimes me and the boys don't even know of how lucky we are to have you."

"But what about my scars?–"

"The scars don't matter. We love you with or without any scars or marks."

He paused again.

"Jake wants to take control to get rid of that stupid stuff you said about yourself."

You sighed, "Alright, bring him out..."

You felt your hand being squeezed.

"Hola, mi amor." (Hey, my love.) He kissed your hand.

You smiled lightly. "Hey, baby."

"So, what in the wrong fucking mindset are you even in?"

"Uh, I don’t know... I just thought that the three of you were gonna leave me and—"

"Esa es la cosa más estúpida que he oído jamás". (That is the most stupidest thing I have ever heard.)

"I know..."

"Cariño, we will love you til the end."

"Thank you, baby... thank you to the three of you..."

"No hay problema, bebé. (No problem, baby.)

"Want me to fix you up?"

You nodded. "That would be wonderful..."

Hello! I hope you enjoyed this! I absolutely love writing Fluff so this was by far the most exciting story to work on!

Also, very sorry for not posting sooner I had a lot of exams so I didn't have time to post this story!

[wayfayrr]

This is based on @sketchyspook's Mask - the hero of terminal! he's a lil gremlin who in this decided to pull a sky and break out of his game. He just wants a sibling though so can you blame him?

“Hey we were thinking about going out tonight [name], you want to join us?”

“Nah, I’ll be honest I was planning to stay in tonight. Just want a rest you know, got some old games I’ve been planning to replay.” “Fair, if I hadn’t promised someone I’d join them I’d probably be doing the same. See you around sometime [name].”

After how hectic everything has been recently it’ll be nice to have a night in where I can just zone out and do next to nothing; really what better way is there to do that than by playing through Majora’s mask for the, what 50th time? It’s such a nostalgic game to me that it can’t be anything other than my go-to relaxing game. Besides that though, really it’s just fun to fish using the fierce deity mask. Something about an ancient war god going fishing like that? It’s a fun break from the rest of the game.

Something feels different this time though. I can’t quite pinpoint what but even the opening cutscene feels different. There’s more static than there should be, it just feels wrong. There’s also this feeling, I’m probably just being paranoid, but I swear someone’s watching me. Judging me even. Like they’re trying to evaluate me for something, I just can’t tell what. It’s nothing I’m sure. Just need to shake it off and carry on playing. 

Saving it after getting the deity mask feels like a good point to leave it off for the evening, how long have I even been playing? I could’ve sworn it wasn’t that long but - It’s past 2?? It’s never taken me this long to get to this point before, maybe it’s been glitching way more than I thought. I mean it felt like every few minutes I lost control over Link, oddly enough it was only when his model was facing the screen. My controller must just be acting up, I knew buying the cheapest one on eBay would’ve been a bad idea, of course, it’s gonna have some issues. Just turn off the game and go to bed, it’s that easy [name]. Your bed’s comfortable anyway, you’ll fall asleep in no time. 

What’s that sound? It’s barely enough to wake me up, am I hearing things? What’s gotten into you tonight [name], first being paranoid while playing, now hearing things? Am I coming down with something? Just try to go back to sleep and deal with this in the morning. 

Okay, I can’t just be feeling things now, did something fall on me during the night?

No, it feels far too much like a person, but then who is lying on me? And how did they get here? Opening my eyes to a blonde kid who looks suspiciously like Link doesn’t feel quite real, maybe I’m still asleep and something fell on me and affected my dream? Oh, what am I kidding myself? I’m awake. I’ll just try to gently wake him up to get some answers, if he doesn’t wake up then at least I can move him so I can get a look at just how he got here. 

“Bewegen Sie mich nicht, ich fühle mich hier wohl.”

So he didn’t like that then, my german is rusty but even then it’s clear enough what he meant by how he’s trying to get closer to me in his half-asleep state. He’s going to be staying right where he is for as long as he can get away with it. All I can hope for in the meantime is to try and find out he got in here without moving. There isn’t any broken glass or windows so he didn’t get in that way, it would be insane for a kid to break in just for hugs as well so that rules out that possibility. 

There is broken glass though… by my laptop… what?Of all the - my laptop is shattered. How did that - did he? My laptop is broken and there is a game character in my arms, that has to be related, doesn't it?  

There are tiny cuts and fresh burns on his arms, ones that look like they could be - did he?

That would explain how my laptop broke. There are more questions from that though. Such as how did a video game character get out of my laptop and into my arms?? And why? Answers aren’t going to show themselves and theres only one person who knows why he did this. 

“Kid? I know you don’t want to move, but can you tell me what’s going on? How you got here at least?” That seems to have woken him up a little, enough for him to look at me now even though he looks very bitter he’s had to move. Now that I’m getting a better look at his face though, he’s certainly link but he looks a little different to how he does in the game. White streaks in the front of his hair, paler eyes and far too many scars for someone his age. It’s like he’s picked up traits of the fierce deity mask, you know what if he’s here in my room real like this why couldn’t he look different from in game?

“Ich kann, ich tue es nicht - I don’t want to be in the game any more, so I got out.”

“Can I ask how you got out?”

Alright no answer for that besides a quick look at his hair, must be a sore point for him. I won’t press him on that until he feels more alright to talk about it.

“Is there any reason you wanted to well, be like this link?”

With a gesture to how he’s decided to lay on me, he has at least a little bit of shame as he looks away from me before mumbling something just loud enough that I could hear.

“After you playing through it for so long, you uh, you feel like an older sibling to me. So I’ll stay here with you [name]?”

It’s either he can stay with me or he’ll go out to the street, not that I have the heart to throw him out, after everything I know he’s been through. That I’m partly responsible for putting him through? If I didn’t play his game, he - he wouldn’t have had to go through that would he. It’s my fault. 

“[name]? You aren’t upset at me are you? I didn’t - I didn’t mean to make you cry, I can - Nun, ich denke, ich kann - if you don’t want me here I can go back.”

“No I don’t - of course I don’t think that. I’m sorry link, I made you keep reliving all of that. I never even knew that you were - oh god I’m so sorry link.”

He paused at that to think things over for a second, most likely about to say something although I can’t tell what from his body language. Is he crying now? Shaking slightly while leaning towards me like he wants a hug, I wouldn’t be surprised if he was crying after everythin-

“AUGH! WHAT WAS THAT FOR?”

“You wouldn’t stop crying because you were blaming yourself for ‘hurting’ me. Now we’re even so you can stop crying about it.”

As much as I hate it he is right, somewhat, one single bite doesn’t exactly make up for everything that I put him through but I’m not going to say that aloud incase he bites me again. Inspecting my arm there is a neat mark from his teeth, kid’s got a strong jaw I’ll give him that.

“Alright [name] I’ve seen a few things of your world when you were playing, but um would you mind showing me what it’s like? You’re my big sibling now so I think that’s just what you have to do.”

“Oh about that, why do you see me as a sibling?”

A shrug with yet another glance at his hair like it holds the answer. 

“I’m not the only one who sees you as my sibling, I know the deity has kinda unofficially adopted you as well.”

“Huh? The deity? Like the mask, the thing you use in game? Has adopted me?”

“Mhm, he’s the one who encouraged me to get out, it’s a little complicated but basically I wore the mask a bit too much.”

Just another thing I’ve done wrong then, or maybe not seeing as he seems to be fine with what is happening and the fact that it’s gotten him out of the game. 

“You gonna explain what you mean by that?”

“Nah not yet, gotta come to terms with it myself as well before any of that.”

[drabblesbyjubs]

Headcannons about Astarion and his PTSD

Tws// PTSD nightmares and attacks, disassociation, sexual trauma, Astarion’s backstory stuff, minor spoilers for unascended Astarion’s ending. Minors begon

A quick note before we start; PTSD manifests itself differently on a case to case basis. Thats why its so hard to understand, even amongst people who have it; two people who experienced the same traumatic event may react completely differently from one another to certain things. That being said, these are just my headcannons for Astarion based off of my experiences with PTSD.

Astarion’s nightmares have always been rough on him. They didn’t come every night, not like they used to, but when they did, there was no telling how he’d react when he woke up.

He may blink awake, that oh so familiar feeling of dread but also of pure numbness creeping over him. He would sit staring at the ceiling for hours, or at least until you woke up, nearly thoughtless the entire time.

When you noticed, he sometimes wanted to scoot closer and cuddle you, other times just humming an acknowledgement of your awakening before zoning out again. He would eventually get up and moving, but for a few hours, he felt like a complete detachment of himself.

Other times, he would jolt awake, not recognizing you as the one safe thing in his entire life. He lashed out at you once, demanding you leave, scrambling for his knife. He was shaking so hard he couldn’t even pick it up. When those red eyes softened in familiarity, the guilt that swamped him was the worst thing he’d ever felt.

Occasionally, he would awaken in a similar trance of not recognizing you. He would usher you out of bed and insist you had to go, leave, run for the woods and never look back. If you don’t, you’ll never see the light of day again. He will get you.

You knew these times were draining for him, and some days, he just needed some time to sit and reflect for a while; reflect on everything for the past two hundred years, from having his freedom cruelly ripped away, then regaining it, then losing it all over again. It was a lot for you just hearing about it, so you could only imagine how overwhelming it could be to him.

He still tried not to let it rule his life, though, and thats where you came in. You made an easy distraction, something to focus on and give to, something normal.

At times he would lose his focus, but you were always there to keep him on track. While you weren’t the cure for his trauma, you helped to guide him through it as he built comfort in himself and his new life.

You were there through the anxiety, the panic, the angry outbursts. Gods, he always felt terrible for those. But you stayed, because you knew about him, and you knew why, and you knew he was trying. You by no means made excuses for him, but you never shamed him for the things he couldn’t help.

Your patience was the thing he didn’t know he needed. Your understanding, your empathy. Things he would have found weaknesses a mere month ago were the reasons he loves you now. And he wouldn’t have it any other way.

..

Super quick hcs, ive got some actually good ones rotting away just need to remember where I put them

[s0lam33y]

interlinked

What’s it like to hold the hand of someone you love?

Sometimes I wonder if people in the palace think we’re just friends. We could be mistaken as such since all we do is crack jokes in the lab. Good friends crack jokes. But then again good friends don’t kiss each other’s cheek or rub each other's waist so there’s that.

“You think the palace knows about us?” I question as my hand rubs against the shaved hair along Shuri’s nape. I expect her to freeze but instead, her lips continue to trail along my abs and she secures an arm below my back.

“You think we act like it’s a secret, my love?” She asks like the smartass she is but I let it slide because of the name she calls me. She kisses my side and I feel her lips right above my ribcage.

“No, we haven’t said anything, do you not need to make an announcement to the council or something?” I wonder. I’d think that the council would like to keep track of her affairs.

She lets out a breath before speaking.

“No, the council does not dare to question me on who I lay with unless I choose to marry, would you prefer if I let it be known that we are together?”

If she had it her way, she’d yell it from the rooftops. I’d rather not draw attention to myself.

“No, it’s fine.” I sigh. I have so many questions that I want to ask. Am I someone she’d marry? We haven’t been together for long enough for me to even ask but I know her.

Her free hand rubs up and down the side of my thighs, her fingers gripping at the skin there before she looks up with dark brown eyes but with pupils larger than plates.

“I can tell you’re thinking, what is it?” She questions. We’re both young still, I just turned 22 and finally made a solid career in being Ironheart. But I still ain’t help but wonder if she wants a marriage. I’ve never spent time thinking about it, not until her really.

I’ve never been keen on the whole idea of it. Marriage seems so suffocating to me like everything good in a relationship ends after the knot has been tied.

“The whole marriage thing would you do it?” I blurt.

Her nose scrunches as she thinks.

“Yes. However, here marriage is more unique than it is in the states.” She mentions as she pulls my shirt down over the bottom half of my stomach.

“How so?” I ask as she sits up so her back is against the headboard. She gathers me in her arms so I’m straddling her.

“It’s more of a spiritual thing…not just in the palace, we don’t marry simply out of obligation or to aid with royal ties…We don’t marry just because of love either…it plays a role…the spiritual connection you have with someone, the values you share is what makes a marriage, what drives it I think is Your understanding of each other.”

She tells me more. About her parents, how they didn’t speak much and they didn’t need to. She denies the fact that they were always peaceful but they always pushed each other out of their comfort zone for each other’s sake.

“I’m sure that I love you, that was never in question, Rianna. I know you understand me, and I know I understand you as well, but I understand that American ideas of marriage are different. So we don’t need to do anything unless you’re comfortable.” She promises.

My brain goes blank just for a second. And all I can think about is how lucky I am to have her.

“What do you think about it?” She wonders with a squeeze to my waist.

“I don’t know…I’ve never really wanted to get married, I’m not sure why…I don’t want it right now, I don’t know if I’ll want it later.” I admit. Her chest falls and rises all the same. She presses a warm palm to my back beneath my shirt and kisses my forehead.

“Then we won’t discuss it until you want to.”

“Do you want it? Marriage?”

She pauses and then answers.

“Someday, perhaps. But I’m in no rush…You’re the only person I’ll marry, so if you aren’t ready then we aren’t…I don’t mind waiting for you.”

I can’t top that. But I know I’d wait for her too.

“By the way, the palace definitely knows we’re together because I forgot to soundproof the room once.” I can hear the laugh she’s attempting to hold back while she sleeps.

“Are you serious?”

“Unfortunately yes.”

I think I’d marry her. Not today or tomorrow but someday.

————————-————————-—————————

Two fics in one day? anyway lmk what y’all think. I hope the shuriri girlies are still around 😩

[thyme-in-a-bubble]

It’s beneficial for others, but usually ends up hurting you

A/N: this was an old blurb originally posted back in the summer of 2022. kinda forgot I never reuploaded it... I remember writing this in a frenzy after being in a fight an ex friend. or well, idk if you would call it a fight when it was just them shamelessly and blindly not comprehending why their words and opinions hurt me........ ANYWAYS! good thing that person isn't a part of my life anymore. that relationship really was a great reminder of the important lesson that not everyone deserves your kindness or to be your friend.

warnings: Spencer Reid x reader, hurt/comfort, hyper empathy, meltdown, the aftermath of dealing with some stupid people

∼ gentle reminder that feedback, but especially reblogs are the way you support writers on here ∽

masterlist | join my taglist

“Hey,” you heard, causing you to peek open your eyes and see Spencer hovering over you. 

Letting out a small hum in response, you attempted to offer him a small smile. Kneeling down next to your vertical position on the couch, he gently rested his chin on your arm.

“How long have you been laying here?”

“I don’t know,” you whispered, staring firmly at the corner of the ceiling. 

You felt one of his fingers hook around your cold ones, “did something happen?”

“No,” you automatically replied, then tried again, “or well, maybe? I don’t know… I’m fine, really, it was nothing.”

“I think your body disagrees with you there… you’re shaking.”

“Yeah, I know, and my pulse is all funky and my circulation is weird,” lifting up your left hand to check, “see, it looks like I have blue nail polish on. I’m okay, my head is fine, my body’s just not on the same page about how I should react, that’s all, I’m just waiting it out.”

“Are you sure that your body is the one that’s not reacting logically?”

“Yeah.”

“What happened?”

“It was nothing, just had a conversation with someone who has polar opposite views on some things, and they sometimes hurt me… not intentionally, of course, and I don’t try to make them change their mind, we’re all different and that’s beautiful, but I just tried to make them understand that what they said hurt me and they just couldn’t see it. And I think because I understand them, and where they were coming from, I don’t feel like I can be mad at them. They’re my friend, just because they have opinions that hurt me doesn’t mean I can make them out to be the bad guy.”

“So, you make yourself the bad guy just to what, potentially save a friendship? Avoid conflict?”

Squeezing your eyes shut, you sighed, “urgh, hyper empathy sucks. I wish I could just be mad and that’s it, but no, I have to understand, empathise, and then I feel bad for them and feel like I can’t just be angry with them. It complicates everything,” zoning out for a moment, you revealed, “you know, a lot of bad things have happened to me in my life, a lot of bad people have hurt me, but my first instinct is never to be angry, it takes me years to just be plain mad at them. I have to fight tooth and nail to discard the compassion and simply be angry.”

“Being hyper empathetic is like a superpower. It’s beneficial for others, but usually ends up hurting you yourself instead,” he grabbed a hold of your hand, trying his best to transfer you some of his warmth, “and you just take it because that’s what you’re used to.”

Peeking over at him, you took a deep breath and let his words sink in.

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