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#spooning for bass
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I should do a full cover of “Ten Sho Sho Ten Sho” like I did another song where I play all the parts separately and then stitch them together on a multi-square split screen.
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possumkingluca · 1 year
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ok i have the only character i've actually played him <3 (i will not shut up about him and the campaign he's in)
Azazel Hiraeth Kilig Strake Silverquill Student (this started as a strixhaven campaign and we just kept going after graduation.) Also a noble (which is a little more important then the fact he was an english major) Lizardfolk College of Eloquence Bard
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(ft his fancy little outfit for the 5 years he had some form of peace in-between graduation and the fucking apocalypse)
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explosiontooth · 2 years
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Wish I had the capability to draw I NEED countryklok I think it would be funny
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januaryembrs · 3 months
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BLACK CAT GIRLFRIEND | Spencer Reid x reader
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request: Hey Congratulations on the 2K! Do you think you could write something with Spencer Reid and a Reader who has lots of tattoos and/or piercings? Like she's the whole "bad girl" stereotype but Spencer and her complement each other so well and have a very sweet and mature relationship. I would love something like that.
description: the team meet Spencer's new girlfriend and she doesn't look quite like they'd imagined
word count: 1.1k
main masterlist
authors note: I officially hit 2k followers this morning!! see my post here for requesting but lets start this milestone off with a bang!! thankyou so much :))))))
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Morgan had to admit, you weren’t exactly what he’d envisioned when Pretty Boy had been talking his ear off for months about the girl in his apartment building that had slipped him your number. He wasn’t judgemental, not by a longshot, but Spencer had always seemed like the type to date the preppy, library geek, or even the cutesy geneticist if Maeve had been anything to go off of. 
It’s not like you weren’t hot, he could see that you were a mile away, but you looked like you’d sooner break someone’s wrist for so much as talking to you than fall for their resident genius. 
You smiled tightly, shaking Derek’s hand with a crushing grip, as Spencer introduced you to his team, the obnoxiously loud bass almost drowning out his words as the six of you stood in the bar. 
“Nice to meet you, Spencer talks about you all the time,” You said politely, and no sooner had you let go of the man’s warm hand, two arms were thrown over your shoulders and you were tugged into a hug. 
“I’m Penelope- oh you’re so pretty, Morgan isn’t she so pretty? You should marry Spencer then you can be boyfriend girlfriend for, like, life-” The perky voice was all a jumble as the blonde pulled away, cupping your face, rubbing down your arms kindly, sweetly, like you were swallowing a warm spoon of honey. 
“Penelope, newbie rules, remember,” Emily chimed in, seeing your eyes widen at the sudden intrusion of personal space. She could see this ending with the pretty pink bows Garcia had plaited her hair in torn to shreds on the sticky floor, right next to her long barbie locks if your intimidating figure was anything to go off, “Not everyone likes hugs,”
“No, no,” You replied, smiling gently at the woman who was softer than cotton candy, “Hugs are nice,” 
“We’re going to be very best friends, I can feel it, which is funny because my tarot actually said I’d meet a strong Taurus woman- or are you a Scorpio-” Penny’s smile was dazzling, but she was soon ushered to let go of the bear like grip she had on your shoulders by a chuckling Morgan.
“Let the other kids play with her, babygirl,” He said, and you were pulled in another direction towards Emily who gave a polite handshake. 
“Nice ink,” She said with raised brows as she saw the intricate sketches that covered the back of your hands, trailing up your arm and under the band tee you wore. She knew who they were, though they only dragged up memories of her own days of thick eyeliner and rebelling against her mother. “They must have hurt like a bitch, I got one on my hip and could barely sit for one hour,” 
You snickered, nodding, seeing her eyes trailing over the ones on your ankles and knees where your ripped jeans flashed them all. 
“Bones hurt the most, though the one on my ass is up there for the worst ones,” You replied, and Penny’s brows shot into her hairline, though she giggled like a schoolgirl being told a secret.
“I think we’re gonna need to see the proof on that one,” Morgan teased flirtily, the way he always did, the way he did even with JJ who had a whole child and partner, because it was his natural state of being. 
Spencer smiled as his team warmed to you, though he was quick to pull you to him with a gentle arm around the waist. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust Derek, that man was practically his brother, he’d taken bullets for the guy, but he liked having you close, even if to just remind himself that you were all his, including said tattoo on your buttcheek that he’d seen plenty of times. 
The team didn’t need to know that, but you could tell your words had reminded him of it as he pressed a shy kiss behind your ear.
He was careful to avoid the studs and links that glittered from your ear lobe, wrapping over the cartilage on your helix, though he loved to stare at them on nights where you tied your hair up and he could count every one of them. To him you were a work of art, complex and detailed with every glance he stole. You were an illustration in one of his many books, everything he imagined for himself times a million. 
“I’m going to go get a drink, do you want one?” You said, looking up at him with puppy eyes, like a lovestruck teenager, fat adoration in your gaze. It oozed out of every inch of you, and JJ thought for a moment that you looked nothing like the scary doberman woman that Spence had originally brought over to meet them. You looked in love, the saccharine, soft and dazed kind of in love. 
“Let me get it for you,” Spencer rooted around his pocket for his wallet, turning to see Morgan’s beer bottle running low, “You having another one?”
“I’m good, my man, you just sort yourself and your lady out,” Derek flashed him a thousand watt smile and clapped him on the shoulder as you entwined your fingers with his, pulling him through the cluster of people and towards the bar, “What a stud,” 
Penelope giggled again, leaning towards her adonis best friend with honeyglow cheeks, watching their genius get led like a dog on a leash. 
“Oh lover boy had got it bad,” She drawled, watching Reid, their Reid, develop an uncharacteristically protective stance as a few men at the bar shot looks up and down your body. She couldn’t blame them either, you were a sight for sore eyes. “Okay, so do I have to be the first one to point out how hot she is or have I maybe had one too many margaritas?” 
“She seems nice,” JJ chose her words carefully, still not entirely sure she would have ever put the two of you together but she saw the way Spence’s eyes got round and longing when he looked over you. He’d clearly said something to make you laugh, and an inked hand raised up to brush his chocolate curls out of his face lovingly, “She seems good for him,”
A murmur of agreement ran through the four of them, Emily taking one more sip of her martini as her eyes roved over your figure returning with something fruity and colourful, “Anyone else dying to know what’s on her ass?” 
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waldau · 1 month
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the most handsome man in the world — seventeen | 1,165 words | fluff
i just needed to get this out of my system okay
gender neutral reader. warnings: none.
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premise: you tell your boyfriend you've seen a guy you consider to be the most handsome man in the world, wait for him to react, and then show him a picture of him that you took. you know, because he's the most handsome man in the world.
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seungcheol
what do you mean you’ve seen a guy more handsome than him? isn’t he broad enough to fill up your entire line of vision? pouts at you cooing over said man on your phone till you hit a little nerve by saying the guy looks like he’d be so good to cuddle with that he immediately marches over to see who you’re giggling over. only to find his face staring back at him. immediately wipes off his frown and tickles you for having done something like that.
jeonghan
is aware that this has to be one of your traps where you want to draw a reaction out of him, so he holds out on giving any commentary for however long he can. it’s only when you roll over in bed, clutching your phone to your chest does he finally break, sneakily pulling you into himself so he can see who you’re talking about. it’s him, of course. had no doubt it would be him but he had to confirm. becomes the big spoon for the rest of the night.
joshua
you don’t ever bring up other people or their attractiveness in conversations, so joshua is mildly interested in hearing if you’re going to elaborate on this guy. doesn’t even consider said person to be a threat till you say something about this guy looking reliable enough to imagine a future with. his curiosity wins and he leans over to see his face lighting up your screen. gives you a kiss to remind you he’s going to fulfill that dream one day.
junhui
is torn between wanting to know who this person is and also not wanting to know because…do you actually find another guy more attractive than him? didn’t you say he’s the most handsome person you know? keeps to himself till you run up to him and show him your phone, only for him to see a picture he’d sent you when he’d been working out at the gym. makes sure to take some more photos for you.
soonyoung
laughs. oh, yeah? really? but then it turns out you’re not joking, because you’re blushing over someone he doesn’t even know? and you’re not telling him about it? chases you around the house to sneak a peek at your phone and collapses into a blushing mess when he realizes it’s him you’re talking about. gives you bear hugs and forces you to cuddle with him for a while to make up for the stress you caused him.
wonwoo
raises an eyebrow when he hears you talking about this really handsome guy you saw in the queue at the cafe today. gets curious the more you talk about him; how didn’t he notice this guy when you did? traps you in place against the wall to see who you’re talking about and can’t help but smirk when he sees it’s himself. gives you a smug kiss and tells you he wants to hear more about what you think of this guy.
jihoon
hears you, nods, focuses his attention back to the song he’s working on and wonders if it could use some more bass. it’s only when he’s about to finalize the song does he realize you were talking about…someone else? spins around to see you lounging on the couch and asks who you were talking about because he wants to jog his memory. feels slightly satisfied when he sees a picture of himself. so he did hear you right. he didn’t.
seokmin
he’s more curious about who you consider to be hot apart from him, more than the fact that this other guy could be a threat to him. indulges in you talking about this guy and theorizes about who it could be till you finally just show him who you were talking about because he apparently couldn’t get a hint. oh. it’s him. he blinks. almost squeals. peppers your face with kisses because his mind is all blank except for you.
mingyu
pouts. becomes a grumpy baby. even if you’ve seen someone more handsome than him (which is impossible, by the way), do you have to rub it in his face? feels more antsy the longer you talk to him about this guy. pulls the puppy face till you show him who you’re looking at. seeing his face on your screen is the last thing he expected, somehow. feels relieved for a few seconds before he makes you promise never to scare him again like that. takes payment in the form of cuddles.
minghao
another one who knows this is one of your ideas to get him to react some way. nods along and even says oh, really? when you tell him about how handsome this guy is, and how you feel kind of shy when you just think about him. doesn’t even need to look at your phone to know there’s no one else you’re talking about, so he tilts your chin to make you face him and presses a kiss to your lips, asking you if that’d help make you less shy.
seungkwan
you’re seriously talking about another guy? right now? stares at you in disbelief, at the fact that you’d do this after he spent his morning making you breakfast and cuddling with you because you seemed a bit exhausted. he’s sure he’s stared enough to burn a hole through your head. you roll over with a laugh and show him who you were looking at. it’s his own self bent over the stove, trying to figure out how to switch it on. pouts and doesn’t face you till you lure him with kisses.
vernon
overhears you talking on the phone with your friend about this handsome guy you saw while you were out on a walk today evening. you don’t stop talking about how he looked at you, how nice his smile was, and how good he looked against the setting sun. his brain runs in loops trying to figure out which guy looked at you like that while your hand was in his. opens his phone to see some pictures you’d taken of him, with the sun setting in the back. smiles and presses a kiss to your head when you’re done with your call.
chan
instantly competitive. him being drunk doesn’t change the fact that he’s the most handsome man in the world. struggles to pull himself out of your embrace to see who you’re talking about so he can give both of you a piece of his mind, only to find a picture of himself smiling goofily at the camera. that’s me, he says, mind a bit slow. where’s the guy you were talking about? turns out he’s the one you’re talking about. snuggles back into you like nothing was ever wrong.
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taglist: @bookyeom @wootify @strnsvt @cloudycaramel @thepoopdokyeomtouched @minnieminshi @nonononranghaee @hrts4hanniehae @viewvuu
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losersclublol · 2 years
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i love songs
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writersblog20 · 1 year
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Nobody else but you
Pedro Pascal x reader
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Credit to gif maker!
Summary: Your friendship with Pedro gets tested when you watched the last of us together. It was already hard to contain your crush for Joel but for Pedro felt like an impossible task. But maybe you were on the same page all along.
Warnings: FLUFF, SPOILERS for episode 3 of TLOU! Bit of anxiety if you squint, mention of daddy issues (shocker), very heated kiss but no smut
Words: 4,2K
Nobody else but you
You came home late at night from a very tough day and you couldn’t wait to be cuddled up in Pedro’s arms and sleep. You and Pedro were very good friends although you couldn’t say that you and Pedro had a normal friendship. You cuddled together, sought comfort in one another etc. I mean it never got any further than cuddles and falling asleep together. So it wasn’t new that either you or Pedro would crawl in your or his bed. Today was no different. You stayed over at Pedro’s house for a while because of work and he offered that you would stay with him and you had no problem with that at all. Besides, you both got closer to each other since you stayed there.
You grumbled when you softly opened the door and placed your bags on the table. The lights were already out so you figured that Pedro was already asleep. I mean it was 4 AM…. You were partly a concert photographer so you had a drum and bass show, those were always tough, knowing that there was a very big chance that you would be done around 8 in the morning so you were happy that you got home ‘early’.
That’s also how you met Pedro, you had to photograph him multiple times and after that you both just continued to walk into each other. So when you found yourself at a party where he was, you both talked for the entire evening and the rest is history.
You tip toed to the bathroom and took a warm shower, did your skincare and took a shirt from Pedro, putting it on you and tip toed to Pedro’s room. You slowly opened the door, trying to be as silent as you could and carefully walked over to the bed. He laid on his side towards you. You opened the covers and pulled his arm up so you could cuddle with him.
You heard a low grumble, letting you know that Pedro slowly woke up. You laid with your back to him and pulled his arm over your body.  Before you could get completely comfortable, Pedro already placed his arm tightly around your waist and pulled you against his chest as the little spoon. “You’re home early.” He mumbled into your ear while his nose nuzzled into your freshly cleaned hair. “I know, I’m exhausted.” Pedro mumbled and pulled you closer to his chest in response while tucking your head underneath his chin. You closed your eyes and focused on Pedro’s breathing as it slowly lulled you in a deep sleep, which wasn’t hard when you felt on the safest place on earth.
~time skip~
You woke up by the sunlight that peeked through the curtains. You felt a pounding headache coming up as you sat up on Pedro’s bed. Your head felt heavy and you let yourself fall back on the bed, letting out a loud groan from annoyance that you woke up while you were still extremely tired until you smelled something from the kitchen. Now that you fully started to wake up, you heard soft music coming from downstairs. You smiled to yourself, knowing that Pedro made you breakfast. You felt the butterflies going through your body and all of a sudden you didn’t mind waking up.
Yeah you were in love with the older man, I mean who wouldn’t be right? He was the sweetest, most caring person you’ve ever met. He was a goofball but when you needed comfort he could give that too. Pedro was so precious that you would defend him until the end of your life. Besides, let’s not forget how excruciatingly handsome he is.
You sat at the edge of the bed, goosebumps covering your body from the cold. You looked around and saw Pedro’s sweater laying besides you with a sweatpants underneath of Pedro. He had laid it out for you. You smiled to yourself and grabbed the comfortable clothes. The hoodie still smelled like Pedro and you couldn’t resist to bury your nose in it once you put it on your body. You were excited to see Pedro so you quickly put the sweats on and freshened up before walking downstairs.
You saw Pedro in the kitchen, dancing a bit to a song that was playing in the kitchen as he flopped the pancake over. There was already an entire plate filled with pancakes. You smiled to yourself and from the cuteness. Pedro turned around for the coffee and saw you standing there with a smile which he duplicated as soon as he saw you.
“Hey! Good morning sweetheart.” He told you with a big grin on his face and walked over to you to give you a hug. His face was buried in your neck and you could feel his hot breath on your skin. You tightened your arms around him. He kissed the top of your head before stepping out of the hug to go check on the pancake. “Did you sleep well?” he asked you with a soft tone in his voice. “Yeah, just short. I still feel completely exhausted and my muscles ache.” You chuckled as it was no surprise. The whole entire night running around to get the best picture was sometimes a lot. Especially with drum and bass party’s.
Pedro gave you a soft look while he put the last pancake on the plate. You walked up besides him to get yourself and Pedro another coffee. “What about you? Did you sleep well?” you asked him. “After you got home safe, yes.” You smiled flustered to yourself and your heart fluttered up by the small but still big gesture for you.
You both sat down and ate the pancakes while you told him about your evening. Your work was almost never boring and it brought some great stories with it. After breakfast, Pedro went to the store to get some grocery’s while you opened your laptop and started going through all the pictures of the night and started editing them.
Only when Pedro came home with all the groceries, did you stop for a second and helped him placing everything away. You saw that Pedro got a lot of snacks and your favorite drinks making you smile to yourself. At this point Pedro didn’t have to do much for your heart to fill itself up with love. “Hey, the new episode of The last of us is out tonight…. Want to watch it together? I’m really curious what you think of it.” You looked up at him “Fine, but you guys better don’t break my heart this episode.” You pointed towards him.
You LOVED the Last of us. Especially Pedro’s character Joel. You didn’t want Pedro to notice your ongoing crush on his character but first of all, the daddy issues that you have are certainly not working in your favor with this goddamn show and second, the salt and pepper hair….. god that did things to you that are better left unsaid.
Pedro smiled but didn’t say anything about it. “So we’ll watch it together?” Pedro asked hopeful. You wondered what was going to happen this episode because you knew Pedro didn’t really enjoy watching himself on screen. “Yeah, we’ll watch it together.” You smiled and got back behind your computer. Pedro’s smile went big, knowing that you agreed to watching the heartbreaking episode with him.
~time skip~
You had no idea how long you’ve been behind your computer editing the pics but when you looked outside, it was already dark out. Pedro was making dinner and poured a glass of wine in for the both of you and made his way towards you while he had to wait for dinner. Pedro softly patted your shoulder and without looking away from your computer you stood up so Pedro could sit down on your chair. When he did, he placed his hands carefully on your waist as a hint that you could sit down again.
You sat on his lap while Pedro rested his head on your shoulder looking at your skills with the editing. You tried to concentrate but sitting currently on the lap of the man you’re in love with wasn’t helping your case whatsoever. “God you’re really talented. I mean, I already know that but you surprise me every time.” You smiled at the compliment. You had only 5 pictures left to edit before you could send it. You quickly edited them while Pedro held you close, his arms wrapped around your waist, head still resting on your shoulder and at this point, you only wanted to cuddle up with Pedro.
When the timer in the kitchen went off, you stood up again. Pedro reluctantly let go off you and stood up before he kissed your cheek. “Dinner is almost ready, mi corazon.” He told you and you felt your cheeks heat up at the kiss he planted there. You were done and had send it to your client and closed the laptop, helping Pedro with the table.
You chatted a bit through the delicious dinner and finished your wine. “Thank you so much for cooking tonight. It was absolutely delicious!” you told him as your plate was now empty. Pedro smiled at you “My pleasure sweetheart, I know you’re exhausted and tired.” You nodded. An night like that drained your energy for at least 2 days after the event and Pedro knew that. One time, he went to a concert with friends were you worked and he saw how hard you were working and running around, sitting or laying down in the weirdest positions just to capture that one pic. Pedro was dead beat after that night and he didn’t even needed to work so he could imagine how much energy it took from you.
You helped Pedro with the dishes as you danced to the music in the background and laughing a lot together before you both plopped on the couch for the episode. You rested against Pedro’s side, his arm around your shoulder and you let your head rest on his chest.
You were met with the characters Bill and Frank and you became attached to them in no time. “They better live a happy life and nothing bad is going to happen to them….” You remarked and gave Pedro a side eye, knowing  that there probably something bad going to happen. Pedro just kissed the top of your head and you concentrated back on the tv. When the scene came up where Joel and Tess met Bill and Frank, you couldn’t help but smile. Pedro could you feel smile against his chest and looked at you and the way you smiled softly at the screen made his heart flutter and he couldn’t hide the smile that was creeping up on his face.
Your smile fell when Joel warned Bill about the gates, knowing this was going to get into play soon and of course you were right. You finally came at the scene where people tried to get through the gates and where Bill got shot. Your eyes filled itself with tears and you sniffled, making Pedro look worried at you. Pedro placed both of his arms around you and nuzzled his face into your hair. “It’s not fair.” You murmured through tears when you thought this was the end for Bill.
But when the scene came up where Frank was in the wheelchair and Bill stepped out, you stopped crying and your mouth open in surprise. “Did they just bamboozle me?” you were in shock and Pedro chuckled. You felt tears slip again when the painting scene was coming up and obviously the end….
You started to cry your eyes out and Pedro sat up completely. He chuckled softly but pulled you in a hug. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to make you cry sweetheart, I’m sorry.” He told you apologetic while kissing the side of your head multiple times. “They deserved the world. I’m happy that they had a good life together for an apocalyptic world and stuff and that they died happy together but it’s not fair.” You cried out. Pedro smiled sadly at how much you were invested in the character and how sensitive you could be. Some people didn’t liked that but Pedro made sure that you felt safe enough to open up to him and show your sensitive side. That meant that you trusted him and in all fairness, he absolutely loved and adored your sensitive side.
Pedro comforted you through it but you stopped crying when Joel and Ellie appeared again. Every time Joel came on screen he could feel you smile against his chest, making him look at you with a smile. He started figuring out that you REALLY like Joel. You smiled at the car scene where Joel put the seatbelt on Ellie and you couldn’t hide your grin because you were so caught up in the episode. Pedro raised his eyebrow and smiled from amusement. You sniffled when the episode ended and you stood up, wiping the tears away as you made your way to the kitchen “My god what an episode.” You said quietly, still not over Bill and Frank.
Pedro followed you, feeling a bit worried. You made some tea and you felt Pedro behind you, his hands rubbing up and down on your arms and his head resting on your shoulder again. “I’m sorry.” He told you, making you turn around. “You owe me!” you pointed playfully with your finger, poking his chest. “Yes, yes I do. I do owe you. I’ll make you all the pancakes in the world.” He told you, referring to Joel, making you cry again. “That’s not fair Pascal.” You told him, making him chuckle and pulled you in a hug. “I’m sorry baby” he chuckled but adored it.
"Do you like Joel?” you looked shocked at the sudden question as Pedro looked at you with amusement. You quickly turned around to make the tea. "Uhh why you as?"
“I could feel and see you smile every time he was on screen.” Pedro teased you a bit.
Yeah you had a crush on Joel but that was because Pedro was playing Joel. And of course the caring dad nature of Joel but still. You shrugged, trying to play it cool. “Maybe I do have a crush on Joel.” You tried to act calm and collected. “A crush even?” Pedro teased you even further with a huge smirk on his face. You felt the heat creeping up and smiled shyly but tried to keep your cool. But obviously Pedro got really excited to hear that you had a crush on his character and asked further like an excited child. “So, what is it that you like about Joel?” Pedro asked you with a big smile and big eyes, his attention fully on you while he couldn’t stand still from excitement.
You chuckled at Pedro but felt your cheeks heat up now that you realized that you had to answer his question. You shrugged “I don’t know, I guess his way of acting maybe? Ya know the caring side and stuff.” You tried to shrug Pedro off. “Awww come on, tell me! I want to know!” Pedro held strong with still a bright smile, knowing that you tried to ditch the question.
You couldn’t look at him while you were debating if you should tell him or not. You kept quite for a moment so Pedro peeked his head besides yours from curiosity. “My god, P” you chuckled at his antics. “Please? It means so much to me hearing that from you!” you smiled softly. You knew Pedro really held your opinion high. “Like what everyone says on the internet P.” you told him, hoping that it would click inside of his head but the moment you looked at him you saw him digging in his memory.
“Well most say that they really like that I’m playing Joel and well you know, the dad of the internet.” He said the last sentence with a proud grin, making you chuckle and shake your head at his innocence and confused state. You walked up to Pedro and placed your hand on his cheek. “You’re too precious, Pedro. ” you told him with a soft smile while Pedro looked at you surprised, his brown eyes big as they met yours. You rubbed your thumb softly on his cheek before walking back to the couch. You could almost swear that Pedro was blushing and it made your stomach flutter by the thought of you letting Pedro Pascal blush without trying.
Pedro was surprised and stood still in the kitchen. His cheek was warm where you had placed your hand. He softly looked down at the floor as he touched his cheek where your hand was. Pedro always had a feeling that you had a crush on him and he knew what the internet said but he wanted to hear the words from your mouth. He wanted to hear you say that you had a crush on him and not on his character. He had a crush on you and he wanted more than your friendship. It started to weigh on his shoulder. Pedro walked back into the livingroom where you were chilling on the couch.
“Can I ask you something princesa?” Pedro asked when he sat down next to you. You hummed a little in response that he could. “Do you have a crush on me?” Pedro simply and directly asked you, taking you by surprise. You almost chocked on your drink and your heart started beating so extremely fast that you thought that it was trying to run out of your body.
You didn’t dare to look at Pedro right now while you started to get extremely nervous. “Ehhh, why you ask?” you chuckled uncomfortable. Pedro took your hand in his and started playing with your fingers. “Do you?” he asked again. You had no idea what to say and got so caught up in your head that you forgot that you stayed silent for a long time. “Because I do.” He told you in a whisper but loud enough to get you out of your thoughts , snapping your head towards Pedro. He was already looking at you and once your eyes met his, your features softened just like his. “What?” you whispered, not believing that you heard that correct.
“I have a pretty big crush on you.” Pedro told you but looked down to his hand that was playing nervously with yours. You placed your other hand on his cheek, making him look a little surprise at you. “Are you serious right now?” you knew he was but still. He nodded and you felt a warm feeling take over your body and you went with your hand through his messy hair. Pedro closed his eyes at the comforting feeling. “I do. I do too have a pretty big crush on you. although I don’t think I can call it a crush anymore….” You confessed. Pedro’s eyes shot open and a smile appeared on his face.
“You do?” he asked a little excited, making you chuckle. “Yeah I do.” You both started to giggle while Pedro placed his forehead against yours. His messy hair tickling your forehead. You went with your hand softly over his cheek, feeling his stubbles underneath your hand. Pedro placed his hand on your cheek as well “Can I kiss you?” he asked you, making you smile like a highschooler again and nodded. “shut up and kiss me.” Pedro’s smile got brighter and softly placed his lips on yours. You both enjoyed the close contact before Pedro started to kiss you deeper and sensual. He tried to show all his love through that kiss and got did it flutter your heart.
You moved yourself and sat on his lap. Pedro’s hand went from the back of your neck to your hips giving it a light squeeze. You placed your hand back on his cheek and the other disappeared in his hair. You could feel his tongue against yours and your stomach released all the butterflies that were stuck in the cage. You subconsciously grinded yourself on him and Pedro moaned in the kiss, spreading heat to completely somewhere else as the kiss turned more heated. His fingers dug into your hips, helping you grind down on him. Pedro turned around with you still in his lap and laid you down on the couch. You both got out of the kiss, out of breath and stared at each other while Pedro hang above you, his hand still resting on your side. He looked down at your body and back to you with a smirk, making you feel flustered. His hand moved from your side to your cheek, his thumb softly rubbing your skin. You felt all giddy with the adorable look that he had on his face right now and started giggling shyly again, making him chuckle as well and placed his lips back on yours.
You put your legs around his body and Pedro carefully put his body on yours, holding himself up by his elbow. The kiss was more sensual and passionate right now. Pedro got out of the kiss after a while and pressed a kiss to your nose and to your forehead. His arms got underneath your body and he sat up, you clinging to his body.
You were chest to chest again. “Can you hold me please?” you asked him softly. “I’ll do whatever you ask me to do sweetheart.” He told you, placing a kiss on your cheek and placed his arms tightly around you, pulling you as close to his chest as he could. You wrapped your arms around Pedro and hid your face in his neck, giving him goosebumps over his entire body. He softly rubbed your back and let you hug him for as long as you needed to.
You softly placed kisses on Pedro’s neck, giving him more goosebumps and his breath was shaky. You got out of the hug and looked at each other before giving another passionate kiss.  “So I guess I’m sleeping next to you again tonight?” you asked, making Pedro chuckle. “When don’t we sleep together?” he asked you jokingly, making you laugh and Pedro just looked mesmerized at you, proud that he could make you laugh. “So… I want to take you out on a real date.” Pedro told you. You couldn’t hide the smile from your face and nodded. “Yeah, I would really like that.” Pedro smiled even brighter.
You yawned slightly, making Pedro giggle. “Yeah let’s go to bed mama, you still need rest.” he told you and kissed your forehead. You got off of Pedro’s lap and helped him up, reaching out your hand for him to take. You wanted to turn away towards the stairs but Pedro still held your hand and pulled you carefully back to his chest. You started to feel very shy and giddy. Pedro placed a finger underneath your chin and kissed you again.
Once he broke from the kiss, you started to giggle again. “Sorry I already know that I’ll never get enough from you.” Pedro smiled and wiggled his eyebrows, making you giggle again at his flirting and softly swapped his chest, walking away from him. Pedro chuckled and while he put out every light, he still had a permanent smile on his face.
You got freshened up, got rid of the comfy clothes and put on Pedro’s shirt again before laying down in bed, waiting for Pedro to join you and of course the man didn’t take very long before he entered into the bedroom. He smiled as soon as he saw you. “Hiya mama.” He said with a smirk, making you giggle. He crawled on top of the covers, towards you. You felt your entire face heat up and your smile so bright. Everything this man did now towards you made you shy as hell. You weren’t used to this anymore for a very long time. Hell nobody had even treated you like the way Pedro did.
Pedro sat on top of you, his legs on either side of your body as he held his own up by his hands. He came closer to your face, kissing you passionately again. Your hands found his hair and Pedro got out of the kiss. “I really like it when you play with my hair.” He told you, his minty breath against your face as you smiled out. “I really like your hair.” You told him, softly combing it with your fingers. Pedro smiled at you “You know, I can be Joel if you want me to.” Pedro playfully said but you shook your head. “I don’t want Joel, P. I want you and no one else.” Pedro’s eyes softened and looked like he could cry from happiness while he attacked your face with kisses, making you giggle. He was on the edge of telling you that he loved you with his entire heart but he didn’t want to scare you off. He wanted to give you all the time in the world and letting you set the pace.
He gave you one last goodnight kiss for the day and got underneath the covers next to you. You both laid face to face and stared for a while in each other’s eyes. You scooped yourself closer to him. You rested your head against his chest while his arms were around you. Pedro placed multiple kisses on your head before saying: “Goodnight, mi amor.” You smiled against his chest and he could feel it like before so he pressed a kiss on your head again in response. “Goodnight, handsome.” You told him with all the courage you had. You heard and felt him chuckling. You shrugged “You are.” You told him simply but the man besides you was blushing like crazy.
“Me? Have you seen yourself? You are drop dead gorgeous" He told you, making you both smile. You looked up at him and he was already looking at you with a cute smile. You softly kissed him and got back to your warm and comforting place: Pedro’s arms. You both closed your eyes, happy that finally  the secret was out. The air was lighter around you and a weight had been lifted off of your shoulders. You were so happy and content with exactly where you were and that was right here besides Pedro.
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sillysillygoofygoose · 10 months
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Cuddling With Toji Headcanons!
MDNI
Depending on his mood, Toji is either the most clingy person ever or the most "ew, don't touch me" person ever. And there's no in-between.
"Wait, baby c'mere..." Toji rolls over in bed, facing you, grabbing at your waist. You roll your eyes, gripping onto the sheets to stop him from rolling you over.
"You said you didn't want to cuddle... well, no, you said, "Ugh, no, not right now." And swatted me away." You smirked to yourself, theatrically crossing your arms over your chest. He groans, attempting to uncross your arms.
"Well, I changed my mind. C'mon, let me hold you." His calloused hands pull your back flush against his chest.
BIG SPOON. This man grabs you and holds you tight, like his own personal teddy bear.
"Holy shit, Toji, no one's taking me away." You whine as you attempt to loosen his grip on your torso, eventually breathing out a sigh of defeat. He grunts in response, nuzzling his face into your neck, smiling softly.
Avid hair-player. Toji LOVES scratching at your scalp and innocently studying your subtle spilt-ends when he can't fall asleep. If you have curly hair (like me! Where are my curly babies at?? 😩🥰) he focuses on a single curl, wrapping it around his finger and watching it slightly unravel.
"You're gonna make it frizzy, stoooooppppp."
I think he's very mischievous. Pinching and tickling your tummy, kissing your neck, playing footsie with you.
"Ew, wait, why are your feet so cold?" You pull your knees into your chest, trying to escape the freezing skin of your boyfriend's feet. "You're so dramatic, c'mon, they can't be that bad." He took the criticism oddly personally, slightly pouting at you as you laugh, "Put those icicles AWAY!"
While you're watching TV, your spot is permanently on his lap. His favorite time of the night is when you're so tired that you stop caring about the program, shifting in his lap to face him. He always pecks you on the cheek after you nestle your face into his shoulder.
The only time you get to hold him is when he's dead tired or blackout drunk. He'll never ask for it, either. Even when he's upset or sad, he finds comfort in holding you.
"Fuck, 'm sorry... didn't mean to wake ya princess." Toji stumbles into your dark bedroom, exhausted, deeply frowning when he sees the outline of your soft figure sit up. "It's okay, I wasn't sleeping too well anyway." You gently speak out into the darkness, hearing Toji strip of his work clothes. The soft foam of the mattress sinks as Toji sits next to you, hunched over. "Tired?" You ask, rubbing and scratching at his drowsy shoulders and back. He hums, hovering over you slightly, allowing you to pull his head to your chest, attempting to envelop his brobdingnagian body in your small arms. "Love ya to pieces, sweets." Is the last mumble you hear before bass-like snores fill the room.
Toji, much to his dismay, learned that he can not fall asleep without somehow feeling you.
After an explosive fight, Toji found himself tossing and turning on the small, boxy couch. After hours of trying to soothe himself to sleep, Toji began the short journey of walking to the bedroom, tail between his legs. Once he arrived outside the door, he quietly swung it open, standing in the middle of the door frame, arms dangling at his side. A beautiful combination of "Mom, I threw up" and creepy home-intruder.
He trudged over to your side of the bed, pushing your shoulder passive-aggressively to wake you up. "Can I sleep here? Please. I know you're mad... just, please?" He pointed at his side of the bed, embarrassed by his own actions, feeling wildly pathetic. You grunt in confirmation, the desire to be unbothered overtaking your previous anger. He smiles, plunging into the sheets, trying to hold you. His smile quickly vanished when you pushed him away, accompanied with a half-hearted "nuh uh".
He huffed, crossing his arms like a child until you begrudgingly offered out your hand to him. He interlocked his fingers with yours, taking what he could get, squeezing tight. Not long after, he's knocked out, sleeping like a baby.
This one felt a little lackluster idk 😕
Hope you enjoyed! Xoxo
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duuhrayliegh · 2 months
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equal and opposite (consequences, pt. 2)
a/n: first of all, yall really showed out with the comments and reblogs on the first part of this so THANK YOU SO MUCH like i haven't written anything that i felt was good in months so to have such an overwhelmingly positive response to that post felt amazing!!!!
if you haven’t read part one, i highly recommend checking that out first!!!!
anyway, i hadn't originally intended for this to go anywhere else, but as i've said before bartender!bucky & peanut just wouldn't go away so here we are!!! i hope this lives up to the expectations and if we want more PLEASE LET ME KNOW I LIVE TO PLEASE
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“Can you please just sit down? I don’t understand what’s happening to us!”
“That’s the problem!”
He throws his hands above his head out of exasperation. They land on his hips as their new resting place and he levels you with a frustrated glare. A glare. Apparently, you’re not worth the energy it takes to filter the emotions from his tone or expressions. That luxury must be saved for his plethora of mistresses.
“You don’t understand me anymore!”
“Understand you?”
Going home has become harder and harder. Despite desperately wanting to fix your marriage, it seems your efforts might have been in vain. No matter how hard you try, your husband has made every effort to avoid having a real conversation with you. To say you’re at your wit's end would be generous.
“Yes! Coming home to you is too stressful for me. I’m in the office all week and then I come home to a wife who doesn’t put in any effort to make herself desirable for me.”
Your jaw dropped, as did the wooden spoon in your hand. His words float through your head on repeat. That voice you used to love, the same voice that vowed to always love and cherish you in his wedding vows. Now, you’re cooking for a man you don’t know.
“Then why stay with me? If I’m so clearly not what you want, why stay?”
There’s a drawn out silence that is accompanied by softly heaving breaths and the simmering pot of homemade spaghetti sauce.
“You’re what I want in a wife. You just don’t understand my needs in the way that Shelia does.”
Your blood boils. Shelia—the latest girlfriend in a string of girlfriends. How dare he? You turn to the stove and begin clicking everything off. You fume while gathering your purse and keys to a home that you no longer feel welcome in.
“This is why I didn’t want to get into this. You’re too emotional and I knew you’d play the victim whenever I’m suffering too!”
You roll your eyes, refusing to engage because you’ll only hurt yourself more. Instead, you pry the door open and slam it shut before trekking off down the hallway.
You don’t have a plan, all you know is that you need to get out. You’re lucky that you were wearing a hoodie and jeans whenever you started getting into it with John. It’s not the first time that you had to get out, so you’ve learned over the past few months.
Wind whips against your cheeks when you exit your apartment building. You pull your hood over your head and start walking aimlessly. You reach for your phone and dial the first number you think of.
You never stop walking, street lamps lighting the sidewalk with a pale yellow light. There’s an irritating sting starting behind your eyes that you refuse to acknowledge. You don’t have to listen to the trilling of the phone line for long before it’s interrupted.
“Commando’s. How can I help you?”
The music in the bar is loud enough that you can clearly make out Steve’s divorced dad rock playlist. A rush of relief shoots down your spine and you breathe a sigh while enjoying the subtle ambiance through your phone speaker.
“Hello?”
It’s only then that you realize you’ve been on the phone for the past thirty seconds without saying anything.
“Bucky?”
“Peanut?”
“Hi, uh--I didn't have your number and I didn't know who else to call."
"Hang on, Peanut. I'm here, hang on." Suddenly the music is reduced to a bouncing bass line. "Are you okay?"
You continue walking, breathing in the stale air of the city as you debate your answer. For the most part, sure, you're okay. You’re not physically harmed in any way, just a deep emotional hurt that persists through the stark cold of the air around you. But if someone looked twice, or you spend more than half a second around someone you're comfortable with, that answer wouldn’t hold water.
"The wheels, Peanut, I can hear them. I need you to answer me. Are you okay?"
Bucky's voice is soft and grounding. Your heartbeat starts to match the steady baseline of the bar's music.
"I'm okay?"
Bucky's soft laugh echoes through the phone speaker, "That sounded like a question more than an answer, Peanut." He then pauses and sighs, "What did he do now?"
You suck in a sharp breath, debating on how to answer his question. The lead weight that had previously settled in your stomach begins to lessen as you hear Bucky’s voice.
On the one hand, Bucky has become the person you feel the most comfortable with. You don't have anyone close to you in the city because you moved out here to support John's career. Your family is on the other side of the country, and it's not like you've had a whole lot of time to build a support system here.
On the other, Bucky didn't sign up for this. He didn't sign up for a broken wife that isn't even his! You have no connection to him outside of becoming a regular at his bar and forming a possibly misguided attraction.
“Peanut? Come on back to me."
“Sorry, Buck. I just—“ you trail off, not entirely sure how to handle yourself.
“Don’t worry about it, Peanut Butter.” You laugh softly at the lengthier version of your nickname while he continues talking. “Look, how about we meet somewhere so we can talk?”
“Aren’t you working tonight though? I can just come to the bar.”
No matter how appealing Bucky’s offer is, you don’t want him to risk his livelihood for you. You aren’t worth that, not really.
“Not anymore, Pea. You’re more important to me. The guys here can handle the bar while I leave to take care of my Ps and Qs.”
You giggle again, unsure of where he comes up with these iterations.
“There she is.”
The words are murmured low, as if he was just speaking to himself. As if it’s a remark not meant for public consumption, just a murmur of his adoration.
“There’s a little hole in the wall on 115th and North. It’s called Winnie’s. Meet me there and you can talk for however long they’re serving coffee.”
"Don't diners always serve coffee?"
"They sure do. And Winnie's is a 24-hour diner. Which means," There's a loud shuffle on his end of the phone and then his voice cuts through. "you can talk to me for as long as you want, Peanut."
"Thank you, Bucky." You aren't as loud as you meant to be, but you know he hears you when he hums before you end the call.
Shoving the phone in the pocket of your jacket, you search for street signs.
And now you stand in front of Winnie's, a sixties diner straight off a movie set. Bright neon illuminates the street below, bathing you in a turquoise light that you're sure is not at all flattering. The front door is encased in chrome and vinyl covers the seating throughout the restaurant.
You push through the front doors and spy a large jukebox on the left side of the building. There's no host stand, so you peer around the seats in search of your bartender.
"Welcome to Winnie's. hun! Just take a seat, we'll be right with ya!"
An older woman yells from behind the bar top. Her graying hair is pulled into a neat bun at the base of her neck and you're just about to read her nametag when you hear a familiar voice.
"Peanut! This-a-way!" Bucky stands from a booth in the corner, grabbing your attention and everyone else in the restaurant.
A bright blush colors your cheeks as you make your way to his booth in the corner. The linoleum floor of the diner becomes increasingly interesting the closer you find yourself to Bucky. To be completely truthful, you've never seen Bucky outside of the bar, so this is a jarring, but welcome experience.
He's still wearing those annoyingly large boots and tight white shirt that never fails to distract you when you're sitting on the twirly bar stools. His metal arm is on full display, the gold in-lay catching the light as he twists a straw wrapper into a tight spiral.
Bucky stands to greet you once you reach the booth, leaning toward you and wrapping you in his warm embrace. Your breath catches at his sudden body heat, but you waste no time in curling your arms around his torso.
"This might be the dumbest and most obvious question, but," he pulls back from the hug and gestures toward the seat across from him, "how’re you doing?"
A stifled laugh escapes as you settle into the worn vinyl seat. Instead of answering, you pull a less-than-convincing smile that you know Bucky can see right through. Evidenced by the fact that he laughs sarcastically at the look of it.
"Yeah, thought as much."
"It's just all becoming too much, I think."
An older woman brings two coffee mugs to the table, gripping a half-full coffee pot in her other hand. You stop yourself before you divulge anything in the presence of strangers. You don't need to burden another random stranger with your problems, Bucky is more than enough.
“Who's your friend, Jamie?"
Bucky smiles while introducing you to the woman. He extends the same courtesy to you, placing the name of the woman in front of you.
"Peanut, this is Winnie. She's the owner and operator of Winnie's diner."
Bucky pours a healthy dose of sugar into your coffee mug and then drops a spoon into it before pushing it across to you. You're in the middle of taking a large sip of the hot drink when Bucky continues talking.
"She's also my mother."
“Oh!"
He laughs as you sputter, completely phased by his nonchalance about introducing you to his mother. To be fair, you don’t really know Bucky outside of him being a great listener and mixologist. Winnie laughs and talks with the both of you before politely excusing herself to take care of her other customers.
“Your mother?”
Bucky leans forward and locks eyes with you.
“I’m so sorry. She wasn’t meant to be working today, but you would have met her one way or another.”
There he goes again, that dizzying nonchalance that bleeds into every word he speaks. Your mouth opens to speak, but you're still in a state of stunned that has you stumbling on your words.
"I'm just kidding, Nutter Butter." Bucky laughs and you hum while picking at your cuticles.
"Sorry, just took me by surprise."
"Clearly."
Bucky glances at your hands that are resting on the table and shifts around his side of the booth. There's a brief moment of silence as you mull over what Winnie has said.
"Did she call you 'Jamie'?"
Bucky lets out a loud laugh. One of those laughs that sounds like the feeling snuck up on everyone, including the person laughing.
"That's what you focused on, Peanut?"
You're smiling more in the past five minutes with Bucky than you have in the past five months with John. Bucky stops shuffling and then removes his coffee cup from the saucer it sits on. He slides the tiny plate toward you as you talk.
"Thank you for meeting me, Buck. Like I said, I think I'm just getting too tired of his bullshit. He really came at me today with the attitude that this is all my fault." Bucky nods as you continue speaking, "As if I'm the one who asked for an open marriage."
Bucky reveals a Ziplock bag and dumps the contents of it into the saucer in front of you. You're just about to start a rant when he nudges a salty shell into your hands. You glance down for half a second before getting the ball rolling.
"John asked for this! He's the one that's causing all this... this turmoil in our relationship. I haven't gone on a single date! I haven't caused a single issue. All I've been trying to do is understand things from his point of view, but he won't even give me the time of day to do that. I can't even suggest something like marriage counseling because he runs out the door the second he sees me enter a goddamn room."
You stop to take another long sip of your coffee while Bucky sits back and lets you rant at him across from yet another counter. You can see him chewing on the inside of his cheek, clearly holding back from saying something.
"I don't even know what to do anymore!" You huff and shove your hair over your shoulder. "What do you think?"
"Do you want my honest opinion or do you want me to just be here for you?"
"I want you to be you."
"Okay." Bucky nods, you crack open yet another peanut and place the shell on a napkin next to the plate. "I think you should start considering divorcing ol' Johnny boy."
"I can't do that."
Your response is immediate. Too quick to be healthy really. The shell of the peanut cracks between your fingers, revealing the salty perfection inside.
"Alright, divorce is off the table. How do you feel about separation?"
"No."
"Why?"
"It goes against everything I was raised to believe. I was brought up under the idea that the person you marry is the person you stick next to no matter what."
"Even when that person isn't extending the same courtesy?"
"I just--" You sniffle, peeling open yet another peanut. "I just want to be loved, Bucky. I don't understand what I did to make him look for love and affection from someone other than me."
Bucky reaches across the table and covers your hand with his, rubbing his thumb against your knuckles soothingly. You found yourself in this same position three months ago. It was when Bucky first told you of his interest in dating you.
To be perfectly honest, you were about two slow blinks away from folding into his arms then. Nothing's changed. You're still half a second from completely melting for the man before you, but you can't get over the fact that you're married.
"Peanut, you may never understand his reasoning. Especially when he won't sit down and explain anything to you. I think you should do what's in your best interest. If you don't want to divorce or separate, then you need to surround yourself with people who will give you that love and affection that you need."
A soft lull coats the pair of you and you allow your eyes to lock with Bucky's. What you find there shocks you.
Pity is something that you never, ever want to experience, but with a shitty situation like your marriage, you've come to expect it. Every time you glance in a mirror or catch your reflection in a store window, or even a puddle of water, you find your own eyes layered with that sickening sadness that accompanies self-pity.
However, in Bucky's clear blue eyes, you find nothing but determination. Determination for what is the question you're now faced with. In all reality, Bucky has no dog in this fight. He has no reason to be helping you the way that he has. Bucky's expressed interest in you, sure, but that doesn't constitute going to the lengths that he does.
"I just want you to be happy."
"Do you think you could make me happy?"
"Absolutely."
You nod while popping the last peanut into your mouth and wiping your hands off on your jeans. You stand unceremoniously and then hold your hand out to Bucky. He stares at your outstretched hand in half-baked shock and then jumps at the opportunity.
"See ya later, Ma! Love ya."
"Will you be home for family dinner?"
"Nope, gotta take my Peanut to the ballgame!"
Bucky rushes you out of the diner and pulls you to a heavy-looking motorcycle. You laugh as he pries open one of the saddlebags on the bike. He reveals two helmets, one white and one black. Both have sleek features with a face cover that reflects Bucky's sharp features.
"What?" His laugh that follows is full of nervous energy as you continue to laugh. "What's so funny?"
"It just--" You snort quietly, "You would drive a motorcycle."
"Oh yeah? And why's that, Peanut Brittle?"
You wave your hand as if you're circling his whole body and shrug while smiling your ass off.
"You just gestured to all of me."
You both break into a fit of laughter, only for Bucky to break it off and unclip the chin strap of the white helmet.
"Well, does safety also fit with..." he does the same gesture as you, "all this?"
Bucky gently rests the helmet on the leather seat of the motorcycle and then leans over to you.
"You might want to pull your hair back. Trust me I love your hair down, but whenever you're riding it's easier in the long run."
"Oh, okay." You begin to pull your hair back when you remember that your hair tie is on the counter at your apartment. "Actually, I think I'll suffer the consequences."
Bucky glances at you and then asks, "You need a tie?"
He prompts you to turn around and he quickly coaxes your hair into a neat ponytail at the base of your neck. You turn back to him with wide eyes, your hand reaching back to check the hairstyle.
"Come on. I've got plans, Payday! I've got ideas to romance ya!"
You laugh while Bucky beams and puts the white helmet over your head. Once it's secured, he swipes the visor up and boops your nose. You scrunch it in retaliation and he shakes his head at you. He grips the sides of your helmet and tilts your head to the side. A loud Bluetooth signal sounds and a robotic female voice informs you that the device has been connected.
"So, basic rules of the bike. I lean, you lean." He taps on the side of the helmet he just fiddled with. "This is a microphone, so we'll be able to communicate without the visors being up. Don't be afraid to squeeze if you feel a little wobbly. I promise I can handle whatever you give me, Peanut."
You flush at his words, thankful that you're already wearing the helmet so he isn't privy to the bright red coloring overtaking your cheeks. Bucky slips on his own helmet and mounts the bike in one smooth motion. His hands glide to the handlebars and then he turns to face you and jerk his head in the opposite direction.
You release a deep breath and give yourself a mini pep talk before placing your hands on Bucky's shoulders. The difference between them keeps you grounded as you swing your leg over the back of the motorcycle. His voice shoots into your ears, a breathy fuck me that wasn't meant for your ears.
"You ready?"
This question is at a normal level, and you respond in kind. The bike roars to life beneath you and you jolt toward him, arms immediately wrapping around his waist tightly.
"Hold on tight, spider monkey."
You giggle and interlock your fingers above the waistline of his jeans. Now, you can feel every breath he takes, every minuscule contraction of his muscles from every movement he makes to control the beast between his legs. You try to take steady breaths in order to control your heartbeat and match Bucky's, but the faster he goes, the faster your heart beats against his back.
City lights blur past as you find your rhythm behind Bucky. The more comfortable you get, the looser your grip becomes around him. He takes you through downtown with all the newer, hipster restaurants inhabiting the busy streets. Bucky begins to slow and you look up to see his profile illuminated under the bright red of the traffic stop.
His feet rest on the ground beside the bike, holding it upright while it rumbles idly. Bucky leans back into you, his hands moving from the handlebars to your thighs. He traces the skin that's exposed by the rips of your jeans. The loose material allows just enough space for his fingers to burrow beneath and trace meaningless patterns into your skin.
Butterflies make themselves known in the pit of your stomach, along with another slightly less prominent heat building at his touch on your skin.
"We're almost there, Peanut Brittle." Bucky's voice is melodic through the microphone. You could fall asleep listening to him read a phone book.
The bike thunders to life again as Bucky releases the clutch. More buildings fade as he continues to steer the two of you down the less traveled streets.
"Where are you taking me?"
"Somewhere fun!"
He laughs at your little groan. Surprises aren't necessarily your favorite thing, but if it's Bucky, maybe it'll be tolerable.
Suddenly, Bucky drops his right hand from the bars and indicates his next turn. The pair of you lean in that direction slightly as he slows into a parking lot of a roller rink. The sign for the Rockin' Roller Rink has a bright yellow arrow blinking toward the building at the base of its billboard.
He rolls into a parking spot near the entrance and pops the kickstand out to steady the bike. You peel yourself off of his back and rest your hands on your thighs while taking in your surroundings. Bucky slips his helmet off and then turns his torso to face you.
"As much as I love you on my ride, Peanut, you have to get off first."
You flush red beneath the visor and quickly dismount. However, in your rush to get off, you don't realize how unstable your legs are as they bear your full weight after the ride. Bucky's hands shoot out to your waist as he remains on the bike, a wry grin on his lips.
"Sorry, should've warned you about that." He stands in front of you and dusts off your shoulders before deciding that you're okay. "It's because of the riding position when you're on the bike. If you aren't used to that, it can be a little jarring the first few times."
He takes your helmet and then removes the keys from the ignition. Bucky bends at the waist and hooks his key carabiner to your belt loops.
As he straightens to his full height, he remarks with a wink, "Plus, the vibrations don't help much either."
You squawk unattractively and smack his chest with the back of your hand while he belly laughs. His metal hand hovers over your lower back as he guides you into the double doors of the roller rink. While he pulls open the door for you, you think about all the times that your husband has failed to do even that act of basic decency.
You shake your head as you walk in, determined to put him out of your mind. That is until you remember the one stipulation of your open marriage--you both have to disclose when you go on dates. Your mind drifts to all the unanswered texts he's sent you about his various dates. Little quips that accomplish nothing but remind you that your husband sees you as less than. A relationship that he no longer has to put effort into and hasn't for some time now. You take your phone from your back pocket to shoot John a quick text, a sour look overtaking your face as you do.
On a date, be home later. You’re quick to swipe your phone onto do not disturb and shove it back into your pocket. You aren’t ready to face the hypocrisy that John will manage to cook up.
"You okay, Peanut?" Bucky's voice clears everything. All the swirling doubt, the immense turmoil that you feel when you think of John, everything negative is wiped when you focus on Bucky.
Perhaps that's also an issue. Maybe you need to be single instead of dating. Maybe you need to love yourself before anyone else can effectively love you. What if that's the real issue? The real reason why John had to seek affection outside of your marital bonds. Maybe it was because you were so unloveable to the point that it was more effort to work through your issues than find an effortless partner somewhere else.
A cold finger taps your temple causing you to blink harshly and refocus on the man before you. This man who's become your safe haven, your harbor in this horrific storm that is your marriage. The man who brings peanuts to his mother's diner because you called him to meet up. The man who knows you better than your husband who you've known for half your life.
"The wheels," your bartender reminds you as he pulls you to the side of the room. His arms envelop you until all you can process is biceps, one cold and one warm. Bucky's cheek rests against your head and you can't find it in yourself to stop from melting into his touch. "How about this," he shifts away from you just enough to meet your eyes, "you just take it one hour at a time?"
"One hour?" You ask, brows furrowing skeptically at the concept. You've never been someone who just focuses on the thing in front of you. Your whole life you had a plan--get married, have kids, and secure a stable home life. Although, now that you think about it, your way isn't really that effective. What has your way got you? A decaying marriage, no kids, and a job that you tolerate at most.
"Just one at a time. Nothing can be that daunting if it's one at a time." He smiles big and leans forward, "And let's face it, your first hour is going to be spent watching me almost bust my ass on rollerblades."
You giggle and look at the ground, only for Bucky to lift your face up with a finger on your chin. He stares deep into your eyes, making you think if you stare long enough, you'll meld into one. His grip changes so that most of his fingers cup your jaw, allowing his thumb to trace your bottom lip. His metal finger tugs downward on your lip, releasing it from the hold between your teeth.
"That's definitely one of my current favorite noises you make." He struts off to the front counter, you trailing behind with a confused look on your face at his dopey smile. The implications of his comment seeping into your bones causing a deep heat to light in the pit of your stomach.
As you approach the teller, Bucky's already disclosed his shoe size for the rental pair of skates. The teenager behind the counter makes a bored grunt at the instruction and turns to you, waiting for your size before they trot off to fill the order. Once again, you're left alone with your bartender.
You lean against the raised platform, shoulder digging into the overhanging lip of the counter. During this brief moment of solitude, you take your time taking in Bucky. He really is a mountain of a man, coming in at six-foot-five inches of corded muscle and steel, he's really nothing less than impressive.
His hair just brushes the top of his broad shoulders, though you hardly ever see it down. He always manages to have it tied securely at the base of his neck. However one time, you remember walking into the bar only to see Bucky behind the bar, as usual. Except his hair was bundled on the top of his head. Little wisps of hair fell from the looser hold, framing his forehead and neck. On top of that, he was wearing a red henley that was at least two sizes too small with the sleeves rolled up, showing off his differing forearms in the dim light of Commandos.
It's safe to say that during those few hours you spent with Bucky looking like that, you were a little slower to respond. What's interesting though is that Bucky looks nothing like John. You always thought that John was your ideal man. Based on who you married, you would have assumed you'd be more attracted to Steve than Bucky. Instead, you find yourself lacing up a pair of rental roller skates, that might give you athlete's foot if you're not careful, with the imposing dark-haired man next to you.
"Why bartending?"
The question floats between you as you take the floor. Glistening hardwood reflects the bright neon of the strobe lights and your image beside Bucky. You watch as he glances down at you before refocusing his attention on the path in front of him.
"Well, if I'm being honest, I kind of stumbled into it." He wobbles dangerously as he speaks, hand jutting out to grasp yours in an act of safety. "Shit, sorry." He apologizes sheepishly but makes no move to drop your hand.
You giggle beside him, butterflies awakening from his act of self-comfort, a feeling you haven't felt since your relationship with John began. Bucky squeezes your hand, straightens his back, and pulls you around the rink.
"When I was discharged, it wasn't so much as bartending as it was the ownership of the bar. It gave me a chance to gain some semblance of control back." He stares off into the distance as he speaks as if he's reciting words he said time and time before. You peer up at him, waiting for the rest of his explanation.
Even though you've known Bucky for as long as you have, neither of you has really delved too deep into your pasts. To say you know next to nothing about Bucky's time in the military would be generous. You hum while you ponder his answer.
"Does that need carry into other aspects of your life?"
It's a genuine question, something to move the conversation along because you honestly want to know more about the man beside you. The double entendre of the question doesn't process until you see Bucky blushing beside you with a wry grin. Your eyes bulge, words stammering out of your mouth without finding their full forms.
"Oh-- uh, n— that's not wh--" Your eyes drop to the ground beneath you, the sleek wood reflecting the neon disco of the roller rink lights.
Bucky chuckles beside you, slowly rubbing his thumb against the knuckles of the hand he still holds. He steers the pair of you to the side of the rink, locking you against the slightly sticky bannister with his strong forearms. You quickly level him with a questioning stare as he leans forward and takes a deep breath, undoubtedly getting a strong whiff of your soft vanilla and cherry perfume.
“I’m trying to be very good for you, Peanut. So I’m going to say this once and then we’re going to continue with our date and it isn’t going to come up again until you bring it up yourself.” Your nod is almost imperceptible, but considering how Bucky continues without consequence, you figure he was just mentally preparing himself for his next comment.
“I am enamored with you. I want to have sex with you. I have fantasies that revolved exclusively around you. However, I’m not putting any pressure on this relationship or you. I understand that you need time to process your grief and your marriage, but just know that I’m more than happy to help you through the process and I certainly hope that I’m the first one you go to once you get to a place when you feel confident enough to explore your sexuality.”
You flush at his words, a hot streak racing up your spine before settling in your cheeks, blossoming them into a heavy shade of crimson. Bucky’s left hand comes up to your forehead, brushing away a strand of hair out of your face.
“But not only that, I want to have a relationship with you. I want the late night cuddles. I want the early morning breakfasts. I want to come home from the bar and take a shower with you. I want to wash your hair. I want you to massage my shoulders after a long day. I want to host Saturday barbecues with you for my family and our friends. I want to drive you to the bookstore and regret driving the motorcycle after you get so many because I just can’t say no to you.”
Bucky’s hand drifts down your arm, tracing the soft skin, taking his time to lace his fingers with yours. He pulls you away from the ledge, leading you two into the hustle and bustle of the roller rink. A smile stretches across his features as he tugs you along, a slow steady silence backed by the bumping base of the house music. You fumble with who to respond to him, but you eventually decide that no words are necessary. You know that yiu’ll be able to discuss things further later, you allow yourself to fall into the comfortable company that is your favorite bartender.
Time passes by at a rate you aren’t able to fathom. One moment you’re skating circles around Bucky, laughing as his arms jut out to his sides, steadying himself as he sways and wobbles. You flit out of his reach for a beat only for his arms to wrap around your waist, bringing you to his warm front. You squeal as you clutch his arms, the difference in temperature providing a level of comfort that you’ve been craving for months now.
You tilt your head back to rest on his shoulder, his long hair tickling the apples of your cheek. Soft puffs of air hit your face as he peers down at you, his gaze flickering between your eyes and your lips. He remains stoic, only his eyes giving you any indication that he wants more out of your current embrace.
“Attention all Rockin’ Roller Rink patrons, the rink will be closing in ten minutes! Please return all skates and other rentals to the front desk before leaving.”
The voice over the loudspeaker startles you causing you to jump in Bucky’s embrace. He tightens his hold on you, ensuring that you don’t topple over on your wheels. You breathe out a heavy sigh creating a slight distance between you.
“Come on, let’s go.”
Bucky is quick to follow you to the benches on the side to you could change your shoes so you can return the skates. You’re sure to take out your phone from your back pocket before sitting down. Against your better judgement, you swipe across the screen to turn off the silencing option. The screen illuminates and dozens of notifications flood the screen and you cringe. You shouldn’t feel bad, yore only doing what constitutes an open marriage. You sent the text, that was all that was required of you, and let’s be honest even that was more than what John deserves. Bucky leans back, shooting a glance at your now busy phone.
“Wow, he sure doesn’t miss a beat, does he?”
“Yeah, I’m sure everything he’s texted me the past two hours has been entirely supportive and not at all condescending or hostile.” Sarcasm bleeds into your words, making Bucky chuckle under his breath.
“Oh, ol’ Johnny boy? Nah, he’s nothing but a big old softy who knows that he’s only getting it as good as he’s giving it.” You huff at the comment just as your phone begins to buzz on the tabletop.
A groan leaves your mouth, slipping out before you can filter it. Bucky eyes you as your finger swipes the call button to accept. You haven’t even gotten the phone to your ear before John’s voice carries through the speaker, shouting expletives and derogatory remarks about you.
“Are you fucking kidding me? You’re on a fucking date right now? I can’t believe you!”
Your whole body cringes, and you rush to shove your shoes on to take the call outside. You leave without saying a word to Bucky, unable to look him in the eye while the supposed love of your life berates you over the phone.
“John, I don’t know what you’re upset about.” You tried to remain calm while he carried on. “I followed the single rule that you set in place.”
Bucky takes your free hand and leads you to his bike, leaning against the seat while he watches you pace in front of him. Your once smooth features are now ridged and tense, worry lines aging you ten years the second you get on the phone with John. Your forefinger and thumb find home on the bridge of your nose, pinching the bone there to prevent the sudden headache. You finally stop in your tracks, stomping your foot out of exasperation and then steel your voice.
“I refuse to allow you to speak to me this way, John. You’re the one that opened our marriage, I’m simply following the precedent that you set. I honestly have no idea what your issue with this is.” Your eyes dart to Bucky, “Now, I don’t feel comfortable coming home when you’re speaking to me like this over the phone, so don’t wait up. I’ll come home when you cool off.”
Tears begin to rim your lash line as John continues to shout his lungs bloody. You refuse to meet Bucky’s eyes as you lower the phone, thumb hovering over the end call button. A dark metal palm extends your way, a silent ask for the phone that you don’t have the strength to deny. Bucky watches you as he brings the phone to his ear, listening to your husband’s rant.
“This is completely fucking ridiculous! You’re my wife and I demand you come home and we talk this out like adults. You’re being so unreasonable, right now. And the fact that you think it’s acceptable to text me you’re on a date instead of asking if you could go on one? Who the fuck do you think you are? It’s best you remember who you belong to. You’re so in for it whe—“
Bucky laughs, your head shoots up, eyes locking with his for the first time since you’ve evacuated the roller rink. The laugh is a short, sardonic laugh. One you’ve never heard him make before, almost as if he’s using it as a throat clear. Your breath catches in your throat, knowing how John reacts to being challenged in any capacity.
“Now, I don’t know who you think you are, talking to my Peanut the way that you are. But I’ll tell you one thing for damn sure, you aren’t going to be speaking to her that way ever again.”
It’s another thing about Bucky you’ve never experienced. His tone. It’s dull, lifeless, but full threats that made your skin grow cold and your spine stiffen. You knew Bucky would never cause you harm, but those who hurt the people he loved? The same respect isn’t extended.
“And who the fuck is this?”
“I’m the guy.”
He’s eerily calm, the type of calm you’ve never seen him. You’ve been a distant onlooker while he deals with rowdy bar guests, having to throw out drunk customers who reached their limit and then some. But this… this was something else. John is still yelling, sure to be disturbing your neighbors earning you yet another noise complaint, possibly the one that gets you evicted from your apartment.
“What guy?”
“The guy that’s going to rip your spine out through your throat if you threaten my girl again.”
The world stills. The noisy streets of Brooklyn fade as you search Bucky’s eyes for any semblance of a joke. His eyes have darkened, latching onto yours with a depth that you’ve never seen in them. He reaches for you, pulling you in between his legs by your belt loop. You can hear the stammering on the other end clearly, John’s never had anyone stand up to him with such sincerity.
“If you’re done being a pussy, I’m a little preoccupied. If you’d like to continue this conversation, you may do so anytime at my bar. Howling Commandos. You can Google it and me in your free time. Right now, I’m on a date and you’re interrupting it and disturbing my girl.” Bucky’s hand snakes around your waist, pressing his chin to your chest while maintaining eye contact with you. “Now, apologize to her.”
He switches the phone to speaker mode, allowing you to hear the weakness invading John’s voice. All the while, Bucky’s eyes never leave yours. Your body melts into him, his warmth something that you didn’t realize you were craving. John stammers on his end of the phone, eking out excuses as to not apologize. Bucky clears his throat once more, the action causing his Adam’s apple to bob against your breasts.
“Apologize, Johnny boy.”
“I’m sorry, Y/N.”
Three monotonous beeps echo out into the silent parking lot. Wind whips against your cheeks, igniting a shiver through your body. He shoves your phone into his front pocket before wrapping his other hand around your waist. Bucky shifts again, pressing his forehead into your stomach instead of staring up at you. Your arms come up around his shoulders, burying your face into his soft hair.
“Thank you.”
Bucky says nothing in return, squeezing your middle before pulling back to meet your gaze.
“Let’s go, you can stay at mine.”
He pushes against your hips so he can reposition himself over the bike. You’re quick to stop him, remarking something about him just taking you to a hotel for the night. He cuts you off before you can fully finish your sentence.
“I’m sorry Peanut, but you surely don’t think I’m about to let you spend the night at some sketch hotel by yourself. And I’m certainly not going to let you go back to that apartment with that temperamental skeeze of a husband you have.”
“Let me?” You back up, resting your hand on your now cocked hip.
“Peanut.” Bucky stares up at you, “I didn’t mean it in that way. I’m sorry. I’m only saying that I want you to be safe and I don’t feel comfortable leaving you in either of those environments. I would be much for comfortable if you came home with me so that I could protect you.”
You shoulders relax, in the back of your mind, you know that he didn’t mean anything by it. John always sets you on edge, and it’s unfair of you to put those emotions onto Bucky.
“You’re right, I’m sorry. It’s just… John.” Your sentence trails off, no ending really needed because you know that Bucky understands.
“Come on. Get on, Peanut Butter. We aren’t far from my place.”
You mount Bucky’s bike, his left hand immediately going to your thigh, his fingers threading themselves between the rips of your jeans to feel the soft skin of your knee. The ride to Bucky’s apartment is quiet, the rumbling of the motorcycle beneath you is powerful and steady. Every chance he got, Bucky would slip his fingers into the rips of your jeans, aching to be close to you in every way possible. You lean forward, resting your helmeted head against his back while he drives.
If there was one thing that you never would have guessed, it’s that Bucky Barnes would have pale green wallpaper in his apartment. Not just a pale green, he proudly declares that it’s agate green, the color he spent weeks painstakingly debating between that and nurture green. You giggle as you toe your shoes off at the front door, quietly taking in his personal space.
The exposed brick melds with the dark countertops in a way that’s almost soothing. The pendant lights above the island cast a soft glow over the open floor plan. Bucky turns to face you, peeling off his leather jacket and hanging it on a hook beside the door. You catch his eyes, only to be distracted by the wall of bookshelves on the far end of his apartment.
“Oh my god, Bucky I had no idea you were so interested in reading.”
He laughs, shoving his hands in his front pockets while walking behind you as you approach the stacks of books he has scattered throughout his home.
“I’ve always enjoyed reading. When I was deployed there wasn’t much to do other than read. I had my Ma send me all different kinds of books, from new releases to her favorite classics to stuff my little sister was reading in school.” He stands beside you, shoulder to shoulder as you glance up at him. “Guess I never kicked the habit, though there are worse vices that a person could have.”
You hum, refocusing your attention on the books, but only for a second as Bucky reaches his hand out and leads you up the stairs to the lofted bedroom. Bucky’s comforter matches the green walls that sits behind his TV. Not only that, but his pillow cases vary from overly fluffy to soft silks. The mixture of textures and fabrics is almost too much for your brain to comprehend. You’re about to question it when Bucky returns to your line of sight, a dark Henley in one hand and a pair of boxers in the other.
“I don’t have any pajamas for you, but you can wear these.”
He’s almost sheepish as he presents you with the clothes, a light blush casting over his cheeks. It’s so interesting to interact with him. At times, he’s the most suave man you’ve ever met, and at others, it’s like he’s a lovestruck teenager who’s just got their first girlfriend.
You thank him and follow behind him as he leads you to the en-suite bathroom. Just as Bucky begins to explain where everything is, he bends down to the bottom cabinets and retrieves a spare toothbrush.
“Planning for extra company, huh?” You joke while poking him in the side as he stands next to you in the doorway.
Bucky’s tongue peaks out of his mouth, his teeth catching on his bottom lip as he stares down at you. His eyes do that thing again, the same thing he did just before he laid out his feelings for you earlier. Your breath catches in your throat, is he leaning closer? Are you inching toward him? What are you doing?
“Bucky,” the tension breaks, a dam of emotions behind held back by your dedication to your marriage. “I feel like I should explain.”
His hands rest on your shoulders, quick to silence your worries. He leans forward, dotting a quick kiss to your forehead. Bucky lingers, the soft press of his lips shoots warm and fuzzy feelings through your bones.
“Tomorrow. You’ve had a long night. We can talk about everything in the morning.”
A weight of anxiety lifts from your shoulders as you watch Bucky begins descend the stairs, lush blankets and pillows in hand. You turn back to his room, allowing yourself to sink into his private space.
You peel back the duvet and sit on the edge of his mattress, unsure if you should fully dive into his being. If you’re quiet enough you can hear Bucky downstairs, shuffling on the couch in an attempt to find a comfortable position.
Your eyeline floats over his bedside table, the lamp atop it casting a pale yellow glow over the entire room. The surface next to you is covered in items that are unequivocally Bucky—a worn copy of Journey to the Center of the Earth, a leather bound journal, the few gold rings that he something adorns his digits with while bartending. His rings clink against each other as your fingers drift over the cold metal.
Among his assorted objects is your phone on his charger. The light pink case is slightly out of place, but not enough to be obnoxious. You smile to yourself while lying back in his sheets.
You really do owe him an explanation. Bucky deserves more than some broken woman who’s in a shitty marriage. He deserves the world and then some. All you can offer is a somewhat clear thought process.
You think on John’s actions today. He really showed you his true colors. You start to wonder if he really cares about you or if just cares about having a wife. If it’s the second one, why does it have to be you?
You flip to the other side, now facing the back wall of windows. Your mind is about as calm as the city right now. New York is never quiet, even this far out in Brooklyn. You’re never safe from the light pollution that constantly blocks out the beauty that is the natural night sky.
It makes you long for your hometown, the wide open spaces with vast fields of nothingness that stretch for miles on end. Maybe it’s time you pay it a visit. It would be nice to escape the hodge podge of a life you’re currently living.
Squeezing your eyes shut, you force yourself to slow your breathing. Distantly you can hear Bucky begin to snore, a low monotonous sound that you cling to. For the first time in months you feel secure. Your muscles decompress, your brow unfurls and you allow yourself to truly relax.
With everything that’s going on, Bucky deserves more. You deserve more, but that can all wait until tomorrow.
Tomorrow. That’s a good thought.
305 notes · View notes
hellfirenacht · 4 months
Text
Water Balloons
Summary: You’ve been dating Eddie for a few months, but never talked about the future.
Tags: Eddie x Reader, sfw, fluff, neither reader or eddie want kids, mentions of breeding kink but it’s Reader being a little shit, NO ACTUAL KINKS INDULGED IN, no use of y/n, fem!reader
Notes: I have nothing against breeding kinks or parent!Eddie fics. But this is for anyone who does NOT enjoy those specific things. 
Bassed off of this post by @deathbecomesthem 
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You and Eddie laid on the roof of his van, a blanket under you both as you stared up at the sky. The two of you had been watching the late summer sun slowly disappear over the horizon in shades of fiery reds and oranges. Now the two of you stared at the stars above, creating new constellations as your fingers intertwined. 
This had been the best summer of your life. Eddie had asked you out the second he ran off the stage in his graduation gown, diploma in hand. You had barely said yes before slamming your lips against his. He’d been waiting two years to ask you out, not wanting you to have to explain to people that you were in your early 20s and dating a high schooler. 
Summer days were stretched with Eddie visiting you at work, day long games of dungeons and dragons, hanging out at the pool, and driving around with music blasting. Nights had been endless memories of the Hideout, watching him play, sneaking into his trailer when Wayne was at work, and long conversations that would only end when the sun came up. 
You didn’t think it could be better than this, which is why you had been putting off this conversation for so long. 
Eddie was talking about how he’d snuck into the High School to play Dustin’s latest one-shot. Without Eddie as the DM, the other members had been taking turns running different smaller campaigns. 
“The kid has imagination.” Eddie said, his hand giving yours a squeeze. You could feel the clunky rings on his fingers digging into your skin but you had grown used to the feeling by now. “He always threw me off when I was in charge but he’s on a whole other level as the DM.” 
“Did anyone catch you sneaking in or out?” you asked, looking at the small sliver of moon above. 
“Not a soul.” he looked over at you and grinned. “Besides, what would they do? Expel me?” 
“Arrest you for trespassing.” you nudged him with your own grin. “Remember, I don’t have bail money.”
“I’d break out.” Eddie said. “Get myself a spoon and start digging.” 
You giggled and ran your thumb over the back of his hand. You’d always had a thing for his hands before, but after dating they were one of your favorite parts about him. His fingertips were rough and calloused from playing guitar, but the rest of his hand was smooth and soft from the lotion you’d always put on him when you applied it to yourself. He used to pretend he hated it, but now he always offered his hands whenever you pulled out your lotion. 
“I ran into Cass Finnigan earlier.” you said, trying to keep your tone casual, as if your heart wasn’t beating out of your chest. Things were going so good, why ruin it?
“Cass?” Eddie sounded surprised. “Huh, I haven’t seen her since she graduated."
“She’s pregnant. Probably about three months.” you said, your voice going a little quiet. The pause between the two of you was closer to term than Cass. 
“Yeah?” You could hear a strain in Eddie’s voice that you wish you knew what it meant. Was that stress? Yearning? Gas? Most times Eddie wore his emotions on his sleeve but your own anxiety was clouding your reading of him.  
“Yeah.” you echoed. “Surprised me, considering how young we are.”
“Too young.” Eddie said, and you felt him shift next to you. 
“Way too young.” 
The silence between you stretched miles, each of you trapped deep inside of your minds as you thought about a former classmate's pregnancy. 
You decided to rip the bandaid off.
“I don’t want kids.” You said, staring harder at the sky. You held your breath, waiting for the shoe to drop. Kids had never been something that appealed to you, not in a million years. The idea of children, pregnancy, parenthood, none of it sounded rewarding or exciting. It only filled you with dread and anxiety. 
You’d lost boyfriends over it, partners that you had really liked. They all said the same thing. That you were still young, still in school, of course you didn’t want kids now. You’d change your mind. 
You never did though. 
As you held your breath, Eddie deflated next to you. Shit, this was going to end the same. He was going to repeat those same tired lines and you’d have to break this off. 
Then Eddie started laughing.
“Oh thank Christ.” he said, rubbing his face. “I was terrified you were dropping a hint that you wanted to start a family.” 
“What? Oh no- Eddie. Eddie, no.” you shook your head quickly, the tension in your body starting to ease up a little. “But I mean it, Eddie. I don’t want kids. Ever. Like, ever ever. I don’t want pregnancy, I don’t want to adopt... I don’t want to be a parent.” 
“Me either.” Those two words could have knocked the wind out of you. 
You sat up and looked down at him. Eddie looked so pretty with his long hair splayed on on the blanket and brown eyes that reflected the stars that you had just been looking at. 
“Do you mean that?” you asked firmly. “Because I mean it.”
Eddie sat up and faced you, not letting go of your hand. “I’m not dad material.” he said. “I never have been, and I never will be. Being a parent scares the shit out of me. I wouldn’t even know what to do with a kid even if I had one.” 
“I think you need to feed it sometimes.” you gave him a smile. “Take it for walks twice a day and teach it not to poop on the floor.” 
Eddie laughed, and pushed you down so that he was on top of you. “No, that’s me you’re thinking of.” he joked. Moving his legs on either side of your hips. 
“Oh, I hope you’re housebroken, Munson.” you laughed. “Otherwise I want a refund.” 
“Sorry, I don’t do returns. You know this.” he kissed your cheek.
“You’re so fucking weird.” you giggled, wrapping your arms around his neck. 
“I believe the word you're looking for is freak, sweetheart.” 
Your fingers ran through his hair and he closed his eyes, a faint smile on his face. “You’re really okay with that?” you asked. “I know we’ve only been dating a few months, but I don’t- I’m not just dating you to date you. I want this to be real. If you want kids, we can stop this whole thing and-”
Eddie didn’t let you finish, cutting you off with a kiss. “No returns.” he said firmly before kissing you again. “I don’t want kids.” Kiss. “You don’t want kids.” Kiss.
You couldn’t resist messing with him, and looked up at him with a grin that Eddie learned quickly meant trouble. 
“Oh but Daddy, don’t you wanna knock me up?” you said, batting your eyelashes. The look on Eddie’s face was priceless as he looked at you like you’d eaten a bug. He tried to get off you but you grabbed him and pulled him back. “Come on, Eds, let’s make Granny Eckard right and get some Munson Jr. Jrs running around!”
“Absolutely not, oh no. Get off me, woman!” Eddie struggled to pry you off, but you just held him tighter. 
“Don’t you wanna... uh....be my Daddy and also be the father of my children?” you laughed, tears streaming down your cheeks. 
“I think my poor dick just went into early retirement.” Eddie said dramatically. “I may never get it up again because of this conversation. And what will you do then, hm?”
“You have fingers and a tongue still.” you wiggled your eyebrows. “And I have plenty of toys if those go limp, too- MMFFF...!”
Eddie had covered your mouth with his hand, and despite how pale he had gone for a second he was now laughing hard. “Stop talking. You’ve abused your talking privileges for the night.” Eddie looked down at you. “I’m gonna let go, and you’re gonna stop making it weird. Can you do that?”
You nodded, still shaking with your laughter. It was tempting to keep going, but you wanted to check just one more time. 
His hand pulled off your mouth and you both sat up again, your giggles echoing in the small park that you were in. 
“I mean it.” Eddie said, taking your hand again. “I don’t want kids either. I could live the rest of my life with just you and I’d be happy.”
Your heart jumped up in your throat. “The rest of your life...?” 
Eddie realized what he said quickly. “I mean, you and I have been friends for years and I know that the whole dating thing is new for us but... yeah. I know I’m not exactly Mr. Romantic, but...”
That was enough for you, and you took his hand and kissed his knuckles gently. “So... kids no, but open to marriage?” 
“Not right now.” he said. “Later.” 
“Aww, am I not enough for a whirlwind, runaway marriage?” you smiled. “Not gonna drive me to the courthouse right now and make an honest woman out of me?”
“Considering how your specialty was always a bluff check, I doubt anyone could make an honest woman out of you.” Eddie snorted. 
“I guess you’re worth the wait.” your leaned closer to him. “You were always worth the wait.” 
“You’re gonna make me blush.” Eddie said, cupping your cheek and kissing you softly. “You know... since we’ve agreed that kids are off the table, I do have a half used box of condoms in the back of the van that could be used right now.” 
“Oh, and what happened the the other half of the box?” you smirked, knowing full well what happened. 
“Well, you see sweetheart, a few weeks ago we decided to have a water balloon fight but we ran out of balloons so me and Jeff had this idea-” 
“Eddie no!” you laughed, smacking his arm. “Seriously? Where was I during all this?”
“You abandoned me.” 
“I was at work wasn’t I? Remind me to quit tomorrow.” 
Eddie pulled you in closer “Well that’s only where a few of them went. The rest went to this really hot chick who somehow decided to take a chance on the biggest freak in Hawkins.” 
“Lucky her.” you said, pecking his lips. “So... wanna show me these makeshift water balloons? For science, of course.”
“I thought you’d never ask.” Eddie said with a smile. 
Eddie helped you down from off the top of his van, and you just knew that this was it. No matter what happened after tonight, you knew that you both were in it for the long haul. No need to change or force things just because of what everyone said you should do. From then on, it would be just you and Eddie, and that would be enough.  
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corvidcleric · 1 year
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[start i.d.: nine colored sketch drawings of various dimension 20 characters. the first is fig playing her bass, her hair shaggy in her eyes. the second is gorgug and fabian slouched on a couch, looking away from each other but forming a hand heart together. the next four are individuals of baron, markus st. vincent, adaine, and pib. the seventh is kristen and tracker spooning. the eighth is fig and ayda standing so close their noses touch. the last is of sofia with la gran gata around her shoulders. end i.d.]
a bunch of doodle requests from twitter. hi
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blarefordaglare · 23 days
Text
Grandmothers and Soup
Or: Wild and Wind’s grandma make soup together, chaos ensues because that’s what I live for.
_____
“So, you cook for my grandson?” The older women looked at the champion, his knife slicing through the fish. Her wings held a similar sandy blue to the sailor, yet faded with time.
“Yup,” 
“Are you making soup?”
“Yup,” The cubed bass made its way to the skillet, along with a couple of vegetables, courtesy of the villager’s welcoming. 
The grandmother’s eyes squinted, “You’re making it wrong.” She saw the cook’s grip harden around the knife, but still continued, “Really wrong.” 
“Well,” Wild chose his words carefully,   the familiar phrase ‘respect your elders’ ringing in his mind, “How should I cook it?” 
The older woman grabbed the spoon, smiling, “Glad you asked.” Opening the cupboard, a small jar, holding spices with aromas that mix in ever the perfect shape, “You need this, it’s the secret ingredient.”
“Are you sure?”
“Of course I’m sure.” 
“Of course I’m sure,” the woman smiled as she handed Link the bowl of soup, “There is plenty to go around.” 
Link grinned, chiming a quick ‘thank you’ before heading back to his waiting family. 
“I got an extra bowl of soup for you!” He grinned as he presented the warm bowl to his sister, “You wanted it, right?” 
The younger girl in question smiled, “Thank you!” Link nodded in accomplishment, watching the other’s wings sparkle with a cheery hue, before dimming again, “Is it true you’re going to the castle?” 
Link’s smile temporarily faltered, before forcing it back up again, “Yeah, but I’ll be back before you know it! It’s not like I’m going to die there.”
The two share a laugh. 
“So see you later?” 
“See you later!” 
Link Wild’s eyes flashed back into reality as he stared blankly at the older women, “And here I thought I was the only one who had senior moments,” she laughed, “You’re still young, but then again time flies for heroes like you.” 
Wild gave a small smile as he gazed back at the pot, “Soup’s done?”
“Not quite yet, we need to let it sit, have I introduced you to Aryll yet?” The grandmother placed the dirty cookware in the sink, preparing to wash later.
“No, you haven’t,” His head shook, “Wind- ah, Link’s sister, right?” 
“That’s right,” she agreed, “Aryll, come say hi to our guest!” 
Hyrule watched as the pair walked away, and then gazed back at the soup. Taking the ladle, he slowly parted his lips to try the warm liquid, “Something’s off…” 
Opening his pouch, he took some spare wood bark -that’s what cinnamon was made of, right?- gazing at it before chucking it in the pot. The soup also didn’t seem too thick, so he also grabbed an ear of corn, for some cornstarch.
Cornstarch thickened things up, right?
A couple rocks could also be used for minerals as well… 
A few extra ingredients later, and the soup looked fixed. The traveler smiled in accomplishment before ladling the soup in bowls, so it could cool off.
A delicious soup indeed.
Bonus:
Wind’s grandma + wild: Here’s the soup!
Wind: This soup tastes like s[REDACTED]
Warriors: *somehow teleports into the scene, holding a bar of soap* WHAT DID I JUST HEAR???
——
second fanfic will be posted later tonight
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headcanonsandmore · 2 months
Note
Can you do the "all the Doctors" thing, but what would they do if they started a band?
I certainly can!
One: Gets gently pushed into it by Vicki. Can actually play the piano rather well, and starts chuckling to themselves when he starts getting into it. Ian and Barbara got a little sick of the solos after over half an hour, though.
Two: You'd think that a recorder wouldn't be a good instrument to play in a band, but you would be as pleasantly surprised as Two was. Gets on surprisingly well with the hippie crowd, although Jamie has to keep them from getting pulled into smoking illicit substances which may or may not be legal. With time lords, who knows what the effects could be?
Three: Can practically play any instrument given to them because "my dear fellow, it would be vain to explain why". Jo loves it when they play Beatles songs. Has an unfortunate habit of playing in venues that later get attacked or blown up by the Masters scheme of the week.
Four: Pulls the weirdest looking string instument you've ever seen out of their enormous coat, plays some weird jazz-fusion stuff that sounds like a cat making love to a washing machine, grins unnervingly and walks off stage. The stage is a random cafe that hadn't even asked them to play. No-one ever speaks of it again, just in case they come back.
Five: Likes to play ABBA on the rhythym guitar, much to the amusement of their kids young friends. Insists on explaining the themes of each song before starting. Has an unfortunate habit of falling over halfway through their set and knocking themselves unconscious. Given the time period, they often get requests to play "That's Entertainment"; doesn't mind playing it but wishes Tegan and Nyssa would stop sneaking away halfway through to snog in a cupboard somewhere.
Six: Loves playing the drums. Their main inspiration is Keith Moon. Mel says it's good exercise for them. Peri is just glad that they don't wear their coat whilst trashing about with the drumsticks, because that would be a chasm too far.
Seven: Spoons. Ace rolls her eyes but knows that they enjoy it. Is surprisingly popular amongst latter-day beatniks and jazz fans. Often gives some lecture after each song. The difference is that, unlike with Five, people actually listen instead of groaning.
Eight: Just has to sing. You would not be able to stop them. They are surprisngly good at it, although sometimes you wonder whether the words have a hidden meaning.
War: Doesn't play anything, for obvious reasons.
Nine: Bass guitar, and in a very no-nonsence sort of way. Can get down and be funky with it. Rose loves it, and enjoys dancing along, which makes Nine very happy.
Ten: Maraccas, weirdly enough, and often with Donna. Both of them are laughing. The rest of the band doesn't really understand why but it seems to work so who cares?
Eleven: Glockenspiel. No, seriously. Amy and Rory don't know where it came from, and it's actually starting to get a little worrying. Especially when Eleven insists on practicing at 3am with no warning.
Twelve: Lead guitar, obviously. Nothing but shredding solos and awesome punk-style riffs. The fact that they don't have a top-selling album is mindboggling.
Thirteen: Fiddle in a folk-punk-fusion band. Very good at it and is having the time of their life. Loves to dance whilst playing. The happy love songs are their favourite, but has a habit of tripping over their feet on stage if they catch Yaz smiling at them.
Fugitive: Doesn't play anything; again, for obvious reasons.
TenThree/David Doctor/ sorry-mr-tennant-i-cannot-call-you-fourteen: Traded in the maraccas for a trumpet. Donna has a trumpet now too. Things seem to be going well for them.
Fifteen: Sampler. Creates tons of exciting sounds based on all of their previous lives, blending them together in a hopeful, joyeous mix. Well, so far anyway. We'll have to wait and see...
Thanks for the ask!
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blake-1030 · 3 months
Text
Ghoul heeadcanon’s, cause why not??
No NSFW
Aurora
Definitely collects things, like trinkets or coins
Doesn’t like potatoes (idk)
Doesn’t understand he concept of cars, because they don’t have them in the pit
“Why don’t the humans just walk?”
Probably doesn’t understand buses, planes, and boats. That sort of thing
Cumulus
Loves glee, her favourite character is Mercedes
Is an amazing chef
She definitely says “oops” when she knocks something over
Doesn’t understand why sexism exists. Because in the pit all ghouls and ghoulette’s are treated the same
“Wait, human girls are treated like that?”
Cirrus
Can’t cook for the life of her
Her ringtone is definitely a recording of one of the ghouls saying ‘ring ring’ over and over again
I can picture her tapping the top of door frames when she walks under them
Doesn’t understand why humans don’t have elements
Mountain
Also taps the top of door frames (definitely teases Dew that he can’t reach the top)
Can’t cook, but is an amazing baker
He has a greenhouse outside and keeps smaller plants on his windowsill
Doesn’t understand that he’s a literal giant and just thinks everyone else is tiny
Phantom
Tried to learn how to cook, is now permanently banned from being within three foot of an oven ever again
Dances around with headphones in the middle of the night
Gives all the ghouls random hugs at the most random times
Like, they could be getting a pot out of a drawer and phantom will just walk up and hug them
Doesn’t get why Dewdrop is so warm
“I’m a fire ghoul, that’s why” Dew said to him one time
“Huh?”
Swiss
Loves shortbread for some reason
Picks the ghouls up and carries them around
Tried to pick mountain up once and practically broke his back
Loves drawing
It’s still sinking in that Phantom and Aurora are still getting used to earth, so sometimes he’ll say something and the new ghoul/ette won’t understand and he’ll be like “how do you not know that?”
Dewdrop
Is an oven so in the winter everyone clouds around him
Hates to admit he likes to get hugs
He may seem all angry and excited all the time, but as soon as you massage his scalp it back he is like a puppy
He keeps a small pendant in his pocket that Aether gave him before he left
He DIDNT ever hate Phantom because he replaced Aether. He accepted that Aether wasn’t coming back, so he was okay with phantom
Rain
Tried to teach Cumulus bass for some reason????
Eats practically every meal with a spoon
Cereal, noodles, soup, and toast are half of what he eats
Ironically hates the sound of rain
Loves to annoy Mountain
Like poking him and humming all the time, but mountains too much of a sweetheart to say anything
That just annoys rain lol
Is actually an amazing drawer, Swiss taught him how to draw
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millerscoffee · 11 months
Text
at my fingertips
⟣ queer friendly fic ⟢
2.3k | frankie morales x santiago garcia x f!reader
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rating: 18+ MDNI
warnings: THROUPLE – everybody is dating each other!!, established relationship, threesome obv, smut w/ fluffy bits, piv (unprotected), oral (m - m receiving, m - f receiving, f - m receiving) – everybody's sucking fish's dick ok, cum play, kissing (m/m, m/f), dirty talk – this is all dirty who am i kidding. hints of sub!santi + sub!frankie + dom!reader. probably not the best spanish you've ever read - sorry! no use of y/n.
summary: you, frankie, and santi are celebrating your one year anniversary in costa rica after everyone ignoring their feelings for each other for three years – though frankie and santi for way longer.
A/N: just doing the lord's work, hold your applause. JUST KIDDING. idk man i've been thinking about this a lot lately, and i have a soft spot for two tough ex-military dudes (who look very bbg) making out (etc.) in reader's presence idk IDK IDK. please let me know if you enjoyed this!
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An entanglement of three naked bodies bathed in the sunlight of a California King sized bed. It had been a year exactly, today in fact, since you and your boys decided to do this. To really do this, not just skirt around the subject for three years. You met them volunteering, hitting it off immediately. None of you knew it would end up like this. But three years is exactly how long it took for you all to come to your senses about this.
Now here you were, sandwiched between your two favorite humans somewhere in paradise.
Costa Rica, to be more specific. It was humid, skin sticky between the three of you as you begin to shift, a reaction from morning light spilling over your eyes. Santi shifts with you, an inhale thick through his nose as he pulls you closer. You feel protected between the two of them, a lazy grin to yourself when you notice Frankie has taken the position of little spoon – his back splayed against your chest.
Your eyes remain shut while you drape your thigh over Frankie's hips and nuzzle your face against the back of his neck, letting your hand shift over top of Santi's when it snakes around your waist. Frankie's not remotely awake yet, but you can sense Santiago's eyes creeping open from the touch of your fingertips.
There's a part of you that knows he will always be on high alert from the life he's had, the life they've both had, but in this moment he is not awake in defense or protection, or a dream that has left him in a cold sweat. No, this morning is in full surrender. He feels vulnerable against your back as you press against him, his nose brushing into your hair, and you will your eyes open.
Gingerly, Santi thumbs over your abdomen in this lazy formation and it's enough to make you want to stay like this forever and feel a rush of heat pool at the base of your stomach.
You think you stifled the shudder fluttering through your body, but as always, Santi knows you better than you think he does. Without a word, Santi's fingers walk down your pubic bone, just over the mound at the top of your clit. You huff out a breath, noticing that you'd been holding your inhale. His touch bringing you back to earth.
This breath against the back of Frankie's neck makes the man to move a bit in his sleep and you both freeze to notice if he will wake up, not really wanting to disturb him. "Cariño," he whispers, his voice gruff and full of sleep and it's the sexiest sound in the world. You can tell he's barely done anything to make you believe he's awake, but Santi's fingers spread your lips apart and he marvels at how wet you are when he dips his middle finger between your folds.
"Amor, ella está muy mojada." The bass from Garcia's low voice vibrates against your back, and you try to not completely fall apart at the drop of a hat. But you can feel Santiago's cock stiffen, notice Francisco's body become more awake at the sound of his boyfriend's words, and it's almost too much to take. The heat in the room turns your cheeks and lips a feverish colour, and you bite down a whimper when Frankie rolls onto his back to witness Santi playing with your pussy like two animals in heat.
From behind, it's like you can hear Santi's lips form into a hazy grin the second he sees your shared lover – half proud and half eager to get him involved. He pulls his fingers from you slowly, and the lack of friction would make you whine if you hadn't witnessed those same fingers tempting onto Frankie's tongue. Like a kitten, Frankie laps at them, suckling your wetness at the tips of Santi's fingers with his big brown, sleepy eyes staring at the both of you.
It sears right through you.
Frankie wraps his mouth around Santi's fingers to tease you both, and a groan can be heard from behind you at just how good he is at teasing you both and you groan in response, pushing your ass back against Santi's cock. A hitched sigh escaping you when Frankie moves Santi's fingers from his mouth for one of your breasts. He moves down the bed to greet them as the lover behind you eases one, then two of his fingers into you. There's no need in preparing your body, you're so wet, after all... and a bit prepared from the night before.
Panting as you push the back of Frankie's head into your tits, his skilled tongue flicks at your nipples. Santiago has different plans, however, as he replaces his fingers to line his cock up against your hips. Hissing when he takes a handful of your ass to pull it back and expose your pussy for him. "Christ," he mutters under his breath, teasing the head of his thick cock against you. You moan, urging Frankie up to meet your mouth and you kiss him hard. With tongue, your explore his throat and a guttural moan comes from you when Santi pushes into your walls. He's thick and deep into you in no time, his trained cock rubbing against that spot inside of you just over the hilt.
"Ajustada– fuck. Fucking tight," you hear a growl against your ear, and you've done this enough to know just how your body gets to them both. You stifle what would be a scream when he moves his hips, and you desperately search for Frankie's cock with your hand. However he pulls your grip away and shakes his head, causing you to moan and let out a frustrated whine at the same time. New record.
Instead, he presses his forehead to yours for the moment, and insists you look into his dreamy eyes. "That's it, you're being such a good girl taking Santi's cock like that. I know, he's so big. Isn't he, princesa?"
The way Frankie is speaking to you sends your body into overdrive. Santi's cock now snapping into you with no remorse as his calloused fingers rub your clit just the way you do when you show off for them. Garcia's free hand grips into the front of your hip, urging bruises to come to the surface later on in the day, but it feels so delicious in the moment all you can do is cradle your bottom lip into your mouth and keep a furrowed brow.
You can't see Santiago behind you yet, but you know how hot he looks when he's fucking: concentrated, his hips moving almost magically, and the occasional groan leaves his throat right against your ear. It sends a shiver down your spine.
What's worse is Frankie knows just how fat and thick Santi's cock feels inside of you because it's been in him too, and it makes your skin hot to know his words are from experience. So many times you've seen them together in one way or another, and there is nothing you three haven't shared with each other. You're irrevocably in love, and it brings your heart to new heights every time you're together.
This morning those thoughts flood you when you can't quite look into Frankie's eyes anymore. They're rolling into your skull, cock-drunk and all you can hear the squelching of your drenched pussy from Santi moving in and out of you.
You can feel him start to brink, too.
Morales won't let you slip just yet, though, and firmly grips your jaw, your body tensing. "Look at me, keep your eyes on me," Frankie is usually smooth when he speaks, but this demand is a bit harsh. Pope hisses at your tightening pussy in response to the man in front of you and you come hard without much more warning. Your eyes loll as your mouth slacks open, and Frankie knows better than to shove his tongue in your mouth – not yet, not til you've come down. "Thaaat's it. Just like that, babygirl. Our good girl." His whispers turn into petting of your face before his gaze is just above your head, watching Santi come apart, his hot load spilling itself into you when his toes curl.
Being a pilot, it makes sense that Frankie has a knack for taking care of people, but it's another level when he's like this. Your ears are ringing and stars fill your eyes, but you can still feel their presence as they praise each other. When Santiago leans over you to mouth and lick into Frankie's mouth. You groan at how it feels, how much it makes me want to stay like this forever. You lean up into their mouths lazily, licking into their kiss and they gladly invite you in. Tongues crash, and you feel Santiago squeeze you, holding you tight because you're their girl and nothing would ever change that.
The comedown feels like heaven with a view of the jungle just outside your window, and you nestle your neck into Frankie's jaw, his fat cock catching your eye from the position your head is in. "Can we share you, please?" You look up at him with an amorous glance, and Santi grunts at the prospect. Both of you making strained noises when he pulls out, but you know what the moan was really about.
Fish's face is still soft from sleep, but more possessive as his pupils are blown. Without saying a word, he takes your arms to help you onto your knees and positions your body to straddle his head. Your breath staggers, not really knowing if you can take another orgasm, but you can't help but sink down onto his mouth. His goddamn mouth.
Santi has other plans, sinking his body between Frankie's legs and he looks so fucking gorgeous like this. It was a long build up of years to see him this vulnerable, and you savour it every chance you get.
His mouth teases Frankie's cock and to watch it twitch uncontrollably sends your senses ablaze. He's a natural in wrapping his mouth around the leaking head. Frankie's cock must've been aching from just waking up from how flushed it was. It's too much to take in, blood surging towards your cunt in desire once more.
This isn't anything new, nothing to make you raise your eyebrow or question why things were happening the way they were, and when you sink your hips down over Frankie's mouth, you let out a sigh of admiration for the two of them. Your boys with their mouths preoccupied, love coursing through the veins of everyone in the room. Your body is still warm from sleep, growing stickier from the muggy weather and the heat rising between the three of you.
It's then Frankie's skilled tongue flicks over your cunt that you tremble. Bracing your hands on the soft form of his belly, his hands encourage you to sit down more and bring your weight on top of him. All the while, it's Pope who's in front of you now. Whose eyes are heated as they stare into yours, working the other man's cock in his mouth with precision. The sound of Frankie's muffled moans vibrate your core and send your hips to grind down against his tongue. A gasp rattling your ribcage, you feel him suck and lick Santi's cum from your cunt. "You're so fucking dirty, Frankie. You know what he's doing, baby?" You speak with seduction, ogling down at Santi.
"He's lapping your cum right from my hole. Such a filthy thing."
Both of your men moan at that, loving when you speak to them degradingly. You've never been too shy to put them in their place.
"Good boy, honey. Keep that tongue on me like that," taking your tits into your palms, you tug and roll your nipples. To feel the sensation, but you notice Santi's blowjob getting messier from his mouth watering at the sight of both of you.
Frankie's hands make contact on the breadth of your ass and it's cause for your voice to quickly turn from sultry to a slew of desperate whimpers. His tongue now merciless on your clit until, "Frankie!" Yours thighs are shaking on either side of him, unable to hold your balance, your body gives into bending over his chest. Now face to face with Santi and Frankie's cock.
Riding out the waves of please, Santi pops off his mouth on Frankie's cock, feeding it to you without giving you choice – he already knows you want this. Want to send Morales over his edge as you taste the perfect mixture of Frankie's increasing precum and Santi's saliva. His own mouth preoccupied with the balls of your shared lover. That's just when Frankie can't take anymore. "Ah, mierda!" You hear Morales behind you, his face pressed behind your thigh. His cum hits your mouth, almost taking him all down, but not quite – saving just enough to kiss Santi with. To share Frankie's cum with him, your tongues mingle.
---
When you all are spent – giggling at each other, making fun of each other lightly from just how taxed you all really are, it tugs your heart. To be held close in the comfort of Frankie's strong arms, Santi lazily stroking the other man's hair while you swirl your fingertips over the hairs on his thigh.
The three of you finally got it right.
After a group shower, the three of you spend the day exploring the jungle and beach, eating fresh fruit. You're all walking down a beach when lean down to pick up two seashells. A grin spreads over your face, knowing they'd have to put it back, but keeping it for the walk wouldn't hurt.
You turn around, handing them each a symbol of your appreciation for them in their own unique ways. Your companions.
"Happy anniversary, goofs."
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oh-saints · 1 year
Note
can you write unrequited love with mason mount like you did in "sick"?
uuuu as spicy as this gif coming right up!
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done
when you decide you have enough of mason playing with your heart.
mason mount x bff!reader
word count: 1.1k
note: i actually had the inspiration to try writing from the 1st person POV during my subway ride to work but it went *poof!* when i got to my desk ☹ and as usual, i happen to always write around dawn so ofc this is not beta-read.
you shouldn’t have said yes to him.
you shouldn’t have said yes.
you shouldn’t have gone to the club.
you should’ve gone to your therapist because this is getting out of hand.
how many times are you going to say yes to every of mason’s call?
“you really need to stop sticking up for him just because you’ve been friends for years,” you know that your therapist’s going to repeat that line, just like every other session you’ve had with him. he’s not wrong, your therapist, but he’s not entirely right because he doesn’t know what you truly feel.
and you never let him know what you truly feel.
out of duty? out of love? heck, if you know.
the bass at the club is pounding as hard as it can your head, in hope to quiet down the sadness and devastation and desperation and depression away from the dance floor. but it certainly doesn’t stop your tears from running down your cheek at the sight of mason kissing a random girl so passionately like the world’s ending tomorrow.
well, in all honesty, your world’s ending tomorrow because you recognise it. you know what’s coming and it’s synonymous with all those sad songs and tragic stories you used to combine together when you’re younger. nothing beats reading slice-of-life books with a good, fitting soundtrack, no?
ironic how the combo’s now beaten by reality.
you know mason’s going to go home with that girl—another club, another random long-legged bimbo—and you know he’s going to either dump her in the morning or date her by the end of the month. if it’s the latter, then he’ll certainly break up before summer comes around the corner and the cycle’s going on a full circle once more.
he’s truly committed to the line he said when he’s doing casuals only the last time Tatler interviewed him—god, you’re there and you feel like puking. and by doing so, he’s also truly committed to breaking your heart every chance he gets.
yes, his girlfriend—whichever she is—will always stir up something so you and mason won’t hang around while they’re dating. but that’s not what breaks your heart the most. not even the words that flat-boobs idiot said about you. it’s when he comes back to you after dumping the girl and acts as if nothing happens.
yet, you always says yes to his plea of going to a party with him to celebrate his newly single life. even after knowing the pattern that he’d always desert you later on and you have to take a taxi home, all alone.
your therapist once asked, “have you confronted him about how he feels?” and you could only answer it with, “most of the time, i forget.”
but you know yourself better. you don’t want to burn the bridges.
however tonight, different than any other night, the bridge might as well been burnt down to ashes the moment your tears fell because fucking hell. you recognise the girl; new, upcoming starlet that comes from golden spoon. you want to hate her like usual for ending your world by tomorrow but you can’t because she’s basically everything you’re not and you know they’re a match.
he’s boisterous, she’s calm. he’s an active social butterfly, she’s everyone searches for.
but you can’t bring yourself to hate her because it means happiness to mason and it’s what matters to you the most. and it means he’s staying for longer than 3 months, which further leads to you probably sidelined for longer than usual.
you’re supposed to hate it, the fact that you’re getting replaced by someone miles better. but you can’t and you hate yourself instead. you start blaming yourself with all the things only an insecure person can think of, but you know you’re not insecure.
mason made sure of that—he’s good at building confidence—but he’ll never know why. he’ll never see why.
ironic because he’s got the clearest set of brown eyes and you will always love them till the ground buries you 6-feet down, even when you know those eyes will never see the watermarks on your skin because when it comes to you, he’s always blind.
blind to the fact you’re the one who stuck up when the teachers at school looked down on him going through the footballer path; blind to the fact that you’re the one who finished his homework whenever you knew he forgot because you wanted him to prove those teachers wrong too; blind to the fact that you were the one who put an umbrella over his head when he got turned down by the girl he liked; blind to the fact that you move down to London to be with him.
blind to the fact that you do that because you love him.
the very reason you never read those ‘childhood friend to lovers’ trope.
but unlike the endings of those kind of books where the characters reciprocate feelings, mason mount doesn’t even know how to appreciate someone who’s always by his side. he thinks it’s always something given to his plate and only then it feels like someone drops a bomb on your head.
how can you love someone so deeply when he’s stuck in his own head?
“i’m going home, mason,” so you cut their public make-out session to say it to his face, and the man’s shocked at your use of his first name. you never do that, not once in your entire time being friends. “i’m done.”
poor boy only thought you mean by done for the night. that you’re done because it’s tiring to see him doing his deeds like every other night. imagine his shock when he calls you the next week for another party, only for his calls to be answered by “the number you’re calling does no longer exist.”
he frowns so deeply ben had to straighten the crease out. there’s nothing happening in your life that can possibly lead you to cut off your line or to change your number. he calls your office and your assistant answers, as usual, but when he says he’s looking for you, the line goes silent for a full minute.
“hello?”
“mason,” a deep breath. “she resigned a week ago.”
“what? why?”
“if only we know,” and he knows your assistant’s not lying because he knows regret when he hears one. the company’s best asset leaves at her peak. “she goes in to the CEO office one minute and the next, she’s out of the building for good. boss says she’s done here.”
then it clicks him.
you’re done with him, once and for all.
and it’s too late for him to fix it.
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