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#when you see something that isn't right you should try to speak up no matter their perceived influence
fakehelper · 1 year
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anyway as I'm working on adding more gifs to my Quannah Chasinghorse pack, I realized that some of my gifs, while better than the original video, still wash her out a bit so I'll be editing them! And just in general, here's just a reminder that when you make mistakes, it's always better to own up to them and try to make things better rather than giving up.
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hairmetal666 · 8 months
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Steve knows he falls in love too easily. Nancy told him, Robin too.
But falling in love with Eddie Munson is hard.
They're supposed to be friends after Vecna. They're supposed to be friends, but Steve can't get past what Eddie did in the Upside Down; how he put himself in a position to nearly die, how Dustin got hurt. It's not fair. He knows it's not, but it doesn't make the anger go away.
Eddie's part of the group now, though, and Steve won't leave him out, no matter how angry. They're all at movie nights, at pool parties, at Hellfire, at Corroded Coffin gigs. It's just that Steve and Eddie don't speak. And Steve is okay with it. If it's what it takes to make sure that they're all hanging out together, not talking to Eddie is a small thing. He's pretty sure Eddie doesn't mind. At least, he seems as uninterested in hanging out with Steve as Steve is with him.
It doesn't need to be anything more than that, and it isn't, not until Steve goes upstairs to get more sunscreen during one of the pool parties, and walks back downstairs to find Munson waiting for him in his kitchen.
"You need something?" He asks, unable to fully hide the way he jolts with surprise.
Eddie twists the rings on his fingers, something Steve's noticed he does whenever he's nervous. "You have a problem with me, Harrington?
"No, of course not," he answers too fast.
"C'mon, man. You can barely stand to be in the same room with me."
"That's not true! We're in one together right now."
Eddie rolls his eyes so hard that it has to hurt. "Don't do that. Don't pretend like you don't know what I mean. You can't stand to be alone with me for more than thirty seconds."
Steve splutters, searching for a plausible reason.
"Is it cause--" Eddie swallows, hand going back to cup his neck. "Is it cause you heard me tell Robin that I'm gay? Back at the hospital. Is it because--" he cuts himself off.
Something in Steve's chest clenches hard, warmth swooping dangerously in his stomach. "No," Steve says, means it. "I didn't hear. I didn't-- it has nothing to do with that. It's--that's cool. Thanks for--yeah, that's cool."
Eddie's smile is a brittle little thing. "Then, what else?" Eddie pulls a chunk of hair over his mouth. "I can't think of any other reason you'd hate me so much."
"I don't." And Steve hopes it's coming off as genuine. "I promise."
He can't help remember the camaraderie, the understanding, that started to grow between them in the Upside Down. The "don't cha, big boy?" of it all. They could be friends. They should be.
They shouldn't get into it. Not right here, not right now when the kids' splashes and excited screams filter through the sliding door.
"You're a shit liar, Harrington."
"Ed--I'm not--"
"You know what? Don't bother. I'll just--" He jolts in the direction of the front door.
"Don't be stupid, Munson."
"God, I can't believe I didn't see it before. You just fucking loathe me."
"I do not. Grow up."
"Oh, yeah? Then what's your problem?"
"There isn't--"
"Stop lying!"
"You didn't fucking think!" He shouts. Loud enough that the noise outside cuts off. "You pulled that shit in the Upside Down and you almost died! Dustin got hurt!"
Eddie blinks his big brown eyes in stunned surprise.
"I told you, I said, 'dont try to be cute or be a hero or something.' And you know what you said? Do you?"
Eddie won't look at him now. "I had to make a choice, Steve."
"It was the wrong one!"
"I would do it all again. No matter what you say. I would do it to draw the bats away. To protect Dustin."
"But you didn't."
"There was no other way to stop them, Steve! They would've gotten through, into Hawkins."
"It doesn't matter."
"You weren't there! You can't tell me--"
"Yes, I can! I know."
"You don't! You think--"
"I almost lost you!" He screams. "You nearly died in my arms, Eddie. And for what?"
Falling in love with Eddie wasn't easy. It was blood and near death; it was weeks in a cold hospital room while Eddie existed in a drug-induced twilight state; it was agonizing convalescence and physical therapy and changing bandages; it was Eddie leading dnd sessions with bright eyes and contagious enthusiasm, herding the kids to the arcade and video store, theatrically serving snacks at movie night; it was festering, senseless anger at the near loss of something.
Eddie's lips tremble. "Steve, I--"
"It doesn't matter." He turns away to slide a hand down his face in an effort to wipe away the emotion. "You're fine and we're--it doesn't matter."
"I'm sorry," he whispers. "Steve, I'm sorry. I wanted--I thought it would help. I thought--"
And Steve has to admit, he does, the whole terrible contradiction of it all. "I know," he whispers back. "I would've--I know."
"I thought I was protecting Dustin. I thought I was buying you guys time with Vecna." Eddie's voice breaks. "I didn't--I--" He squeezes his eyes shut.
In the quiet of the kitchen, they gravitate to one another, foreheads resting together.
"I should have been there, Ed. I shouldn't have left you two alone. You almost died, and I--"
"Sweetheart, I'm right here. We're right here."
They don't kiss, but they're close enough that their mouths brush with each breath they take.
"Don't do that, again." Steve clenches his fists into Eddie's cutoff t-shirt. "Promise you won't ever--"
"I promise, Stevie. I promise. I'll be by your side until the very end, whatever it is."
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llamagoddessofficial · 5 months
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How would the Bad sanses feel about kids?
Horror isn't a fan of how children have a habit of immediately bursting into terrified tears when they look at him. Kinda rude. He copes by deliberately scaring them; if a kid looks at him he pulls his scariest face. Might even say "boo" just for effect. Deep down, though, he does like kids - before it all went wrong in the Underground he used to dream about being an uncle to Papyrus' future children. When he's around you, he catches himself thinking about it... his own kids would like his face just the way it was, wouldn't they? So long as he was a good dad, it wouldn't matter what he looked like. That sounds so wonderful.
If he somehow finds a kid who isn't frightened of him, he will go full papa bear mode. Horror's the most likely of the bad guys to find a lost child and scoop them up.
Dust... avoids children like the plague. He shares Horror's habit of deliberately scaring them. He has a lot of reasons. He's a dangerous mass murderer, that's one; he also doesn't do great with noise. The sound of a crying or shouting child grates at him like nails on a chalkboard. Not to mention the fact that he's had enough of dealing with childish behaviour after a few hours around Killer.
... He also doesn't like being reminded of all the kids that used to live in his Underground. He doesn't like looking at little faces and remembering how Papyrus used to smile at him, the big brother who was supposed to keep him safe, the exact same way. The thing about having high LV is you get very used to being numb... those stabs of emotion, when they do get through, are too much.
He likes seeing you interact with kids, though. You're much better than he is, softer and kinder. Makes him think about what could've been.
Killer is great with kids. He's exciting, he's funny, he's got endless energy. He perfectly channels the 'fun uncle who clearly wants kids and would be an amazing dad', and the presence of children grounds him, taking the edge off of his worse traits and continuously pulling him down to reality. But he's also a terrible influence when left unattended. Give him an hour, and he'll be showing them how to properly hold a knife, telling them how crime isn't really that bad, and that they should totally just bite their bully as hard as they possibly can.
If a child lets him pick them up, Killer will constantly be trying to catch your eye. His huge grin speaks volumes; so when are WE gonna make our own one of these?
Nightmare says he doesn't like children. He definitely acts like it, too, he's cold and intimidating. But deep down, he's always wanted kids of his own - and he's bitter, because before he was corrupted he used to be really good with kids. Dream was (and still is) better at entertaining children but Nightmare could comfort the introverts; shy kids who cried around Dream would happily fall asleep on Nightmare's shoulder. Not anymore.
The thing is... when kids are around him for a while, you'll start to see hints of something underneath the grump. You'll notice he never raises his voice. You'll hear how his tone slips into something stern, yet calm. You'll see the 'strict but fair' edge to his sockets and mouth, you'll notice how despite all the talk of not caring his tentacles will ALWAYS catch anyone whose tiny feet are unsteady. There's a dad under there.
He's in no place for kids right now. But he does think about it - when you're around he thinks far more than he'd ever admit. He imagines giving someone the childhood he never had. If only.
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cuubism · 7 months
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i went to physical therapy for my stupid broken arm so as is my legal obligation i HAD to make ship content about it. everything is ship content that's how it is
cw injury, referenced abusive relationships
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Hob's had plenty of clients come to physical therapy who clearly don't want to be there. Plenty of others who are reasonably frustrated by the work and time involved in regaining functioning after an injury. But this is the first time he's just had someone be... quiet. Resigned.
Dream sits with his hand cradled to his chest, barely speaking, only answering when Hob asks a direct question. He's reluctant to give Hob his hand when Hob asks if he can look at it, like he thinks Hob's grip is a bear trap that will snap down and crush the bones like whatever had done so the first time. Hob still doesn't know what that was. All he knows is the bones have been realigned and healed over but the dexterity in his hand still isn't right. That was what Dream had said, in the first spark of passion Hob had heard from him. It's not right.
But he does eventually give his hand over. His bones are so fine and delicate, and each movement hesitant. Cautious. Hob tests the flexibility. The strength. Dream is right, it's not where it should be. He still doesn't know what happened.
"I won't make you tell me if you really don't want to," Hob says gently. "But it is important to know how it happened to make sure we rehab it the right way. Did you get it caught in something? I've seen guys come in with machine injuries like that."
Nothing about Dream suggests "person who works with heavy machinery." But who knows. Hob will try not to stereotype.
"No," Dream says quietly, looking down and away from his hand like he can't bear to see it. "I. I am an artist. My ex... he felt that I cared more about my art than about him. Perhaps I did. And he was... frustrated. I suppose."
Hob can put the rest of the pieces together in his mind. "Jesus," he breathes, and Dream flinches.
"I have an unfortunate ability to involve myself with such people," he says.
"No, it's not your fault," Hob says automatically.
Dream narrows his eyes. "You presume to know that?"
Hob raises his hands in surrender. "Never mind. I won't pry." He's not Dream's therapist. His job is to help him with his hand, not... whatever else is going on in his life.
He takes Dream's hand carefully between both of his own again. Presses down lightly on his knuckles. "So. Crushed. Like that?"
Dream nods. Hob still doesn't know all the details, but he's imagining a boot going down hard on the top of Dream's hand. The thought is sickening.
"Can you fix it?" Dream asks, like he doesn't dare to hope.
"Well, you already had it repaired surgically, yeah?" Hob says. This strikes him as a bit of good luck--hand fractures are not simple--but he doesn't want to undercut Dream's confidence even further by saying so. He's usually pretty good at reading his clients, and he's already sensing that Dream is holding onto his determination to be here at all by the barest thread. Best to build him up as much as possible. "So it's just a matter of strengthening the muscles again."
He's fairly confident he can get him back to a usual level of functioning with it. The question is whether he can return him to the specific level of dexterity he needs for his art. He doesn't say that. Not yet.
Finally, he gets the tiniest of smiles out of Dream. He's really lovely when he smiles.
(He's pretty when he doesn't smile, too. Hob would have to be blind not to notice it.)
"So," Hob says. "Let's look at the current range of motion, yeah?"
Dream tilts his head. "Did you not already do so?"
"For regular motion, yeah. But I want to see where it's impacting your drawing."
Dream draws his hand back, looking uncertain.
"Come on." Hob hands him a pen and paper. "Show me. I promise I know nothing about art. If it's not up to your usual standards, I'm not going to be able to tell."
Finally, Dream takes the pen, and starts sketching.
Hob watches, noting the way his hand trembles, his uneven grip on the pen. Notes how quickly he gets demoralized when it doesn't turn out the way he wants. Hob can make out what he's written and drawn, but it's clear from Dream's expression that it's far from how it's supposed to be.
"This is just a starting point," Hob reminds him. He has a feeling he's going to be doing a lot of those sorts of reminders with Dream; he does not seem to find optimism easy.
Then again, if someone who supposedly loved him had hurt him like that, Hob would probably find optimism a bit difficult, too.
Finally, Dream drops the pen, clearly frustrated. "I have tried to paint at home, too. It has not turned out any better. You should throw those away." He gestures to the sketches. "They are terrible."
"Nah, I'm gonna keep them," Hob says, and puts them in his folder. "For comparison later." It could also partially be because he finds Dream's drawings of cats, imperfect as they are, charming. Sue him.
"As you insist," Dream says.
Hob gives him documentation on some other exercises he can do at home. Tries to think through what might make him feel better with his art. It feels, somehow, so important to make him feel better.
"At home, go easy on trying to use a pen, or paintbrush or whatever, it's hard on your hand," he finally says. "But you probably want to get back to your art, so-- okay, don't make fun of me if this is stupid."
Dream just raises an eyebrow, waiting.
Maybe Hob should try to learn more about art before he gives advice. Nevertheless, he forges on. "Holding a pen is tough, but if you wanted to like, finger paint or something? That would probably be fine. Might be good for flexibility, even."
"Finger paint," Dream repeats, enunciating each word.
"I told you not to make fun of me if it was stupid."
Dream smiles, just a small thing, like he finds Hob ridiculous but in a charming way. Good enough, Hob figures.
"Very well," Dream says at last. "I will take your advice."
Dream simply walking out had felt like a distinct possibility, so Hob will take this as a win.
"Hey," he says later, catching Dream for a moment as he's checking him out. "It's going to get better, yeah? Trust me. Don't worry too hard, just give it time."
He really shouldn't make promises like that. But he can't seem to help it, with Dream.
Dream considers, then says. "I do trust you."
Hob finds that it means a lot. Now he's just going to have to earn it.
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d-targaryenshoe · 9 months
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The Arrival Of A Miracle - Anthony Bridgerton
Word count: 1666
Summary: Oh how wonderful it is when new life joins us in this adventure called life, is it not?
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The chamber is elegantly decorated with antique furniture and delicate china tea sets. Violet Bridgerton, an elegant and wise woman in her seated on a comfortable armchair. 
And Eloise, a spirited and intelligent young woman joins the both of you with a cup of tea.
 "It's so lovely to have this moment of peace amidst all the chaos, isn't it?" Violet chuckled, taking a sip from the hot liquid in her teacup. "At least for the time being."
"Yes, indeed. I can't believe this little one will be joining us shortly." You smiled, placing a hand upon your bump covered by your green gown.
"Time flies, my dear. It feels like just yesterday when Anthony was a baby himself." The mother sighed, slightly lost in memories, smiling at you. 
"Speaking of babies, it seems like everyone else in London is busy with their own affairs." Eloise joked, making you chuckle as well. "I hardly see anyone these days."
"Well, Eloise, life does tend to get busy, especially when there's a new addition to the family on the way." Violet silenced her daughter, pointing at your bump. 
"I must admit, it's quite overwhelming at times. But having tea with all of you brings such joy and comfort." You said, looking at both the women in the room. "Truly."
"My dear, you're doing wonderfully. We're all here to support you every step of the way." Violet assured, placing her hand on yours.
"Absolutely! And once the baby arrives, we'll have even more reasons to celebrate." Eloise laughed, taking a biscuit from the table.
"Indeed, Eloise. Our family will grow, and our love will only deepen." Violet agreed. "Could I ask something?"
"Oh, most definitely, what's the matter?" You asked.
 "I've been searching for this specific book for weeks, and I can't seem to locate it anywhere." Eloise almost begged. "My brothers are no help at all. One of them is always painting and the other is making sure a nursery is completed."
"Eloise, y/n is close to birthing a child, how could you ask such a thing?" Violet scolded her daughter.
"It's okay, I'd be happy to help you out." You answered, getting up from the couch with some difficulty. "We can go to the library together and search for it."
"Really? You would do that for me?" She asked, eyes wide with happiness. "Thank you so much. Let's go right now."
And with that, the younger Bridgerton took a hold of your hand and pulled you towards the library.
Entering the library, you're greeted by the smell of old books and the sound of pages being turned. 
"Wow, this library is impressive. Do you have any leads on where we should start?" You asked, placing a hand on your back as you felt some subtle pain.
"Well, I've already checked the history section, the adventure section, and even the rare books collection. But no luck so far." Eloise sighed, randomly reading some titles of books.
 Eloise is meticulously going through books about unsolved mysteries and hidden secrets. "... It must be here somewhere."
You walk a little further into the library, reading some book titles as well, hoping you'd find the book, at least to help Eloise out.
Suddenly, Eloise's hand brushes against a book that feels slightly different from the others. 
But at a sudden moment your face twists in pain. As Eloise walks towards you with a book in her hand.
"Y/n, are you alright? Shall I get Mama or Anthony?" She asked worriedly, placing the book on the shelf, and placing her hand on your back. 
You took a deep breath, placing your hands on the shelf, trying to steady yourself. "It's too soon. The baby isn't due for another two weeks, El."
"I don't know much about this but this child is coming," Eloise said, looking around her if there was anyone that could help her out "We must get you to your room."
"I... I can't wait any longer. The baby is coming." You panted, cradling your bump with one hand, feeling how the pain got worse.
"We'll do whatever it takes to ensure the safety of our child," Eloise assured, taking hold of your hand, and leading you out of the library.
You smiled weakly, grateful for the support of your sister-in-law. 
Eloise smiles back, determination etched on her face. She took your arm and supported you as you both started to make your way up the grand staircase.
Eloise and you slowly walk up the staircase, each step becoming more challenging for you. Eloise whispers words of encouragement, trying to keep you calm.
"You're doing wonderful, y/n. Just a few more steps and we'll be in your chamber." Eloise encouraged, breathing along with you.
Your grip tightens on Eloise's arm as another contraction hits. You wince in pain, but bravely soldier on. "I can't do this, El."
"You're stronger than you assume, y/n Bridgerton. Remember, soon you'll be holding your beautiful babe in your arms." Eloise smiled, rubbing the lower of your back, hoping to soothe some of the pain.
You reach the top of the staircase and continue down the hallway towards your room. 
Eloise helps you into the room and guides you towards the bed. You collapse onto the bed, your face pale and sweaty.
"You, try to stay calm, I'll get Mama and make sure that wicked brother of mine, returns home," Eloise said, kissing your cheek one last time.
Descending the grand staircase with purpose. She spots her mother, across the room. "Mother, we must act fast! Send the midwives to y/n's room and fetch Anthony immediately. She has begun the labor upstairs in their room!"
Anthony Bridgerton bursts through the doors of the Bridgerton residency. Noticing the stares his mother and sister are giving in his direction. 
"It's your wife, dearest." Violet began.
"Where? Where is my wife? What's the matter?" He asked, noticing Eloise nodding her head subtly towards the hallway upstairs. 
"Anthony, my dear, there's no need to worry. Y/n is in good hands. She's in your room." Violet explained, placing a hand on her son's shoulder. "Preparing for the arrival of your child." 
"I just want to be there for her, Mother. I want to hold her hand and support her through this."He answered, looking down at the wedding ring on his hand.
"And you will be. Y/n knows how much you adore her. She knows you'll be by her side every step of the way." She smiled as Anthony's eyes lit up with determination.
"Yes, I will. I'll be the best father and husband I can be." Anthony nodded his head. 
"I have no doubt about that, my son. You will be a wonderful father, just like your own father was." Violet spoke with tearful eyes.
"Thank you, Mother. I won't let her down."
"I know you won't, my dear. Now, go to her. Your wife needs you." Violet insisted, motioning her hand toward the staircase.
Anthony nervously enters the room, his heart pounding with anticipation. He glances around, noticing the midwife preparing the birthing supplies. The room is filled with an air of both excitement and trepidation.
"Is everything alright?" Anthony asked the midwife who was taking some sheets for the bed.
"Yes, Mr. Bridgerton. everything is going well, soon you'll child will be here." The woman answered.
He takes a deep breath, trying to calm his nerves. He walks over to your side, are you're lying on the bed, your face flushed with pain. 
"You're doing amazing, my love. Just a little longer." Anthony whispered against your forehead, softly smiling. .
" Oh, the pain! I can't bear it any longer!" You cried, leaning back into the pillow. 
"Just a little while longer, my lady. You're doing wonderfully." One of the midwives reassures, adjusting the gloves on her hands. "Just a few more pushes and we'll have the baby in your arms."
"Don't leave me, Anthony. I need you." You sighed, squeezing his hand.
"Alright, my lady. On the count of three, give me one more big push." The midwive said as you we're pushing the best you could. 
"Come on, my love. You can do this." Anthony encouraged, placing his hand on the back of your neck.
The birthing room is filled with a team of midwives bustling around, preparing for the imminent arrival of the baby.
"Just breathe, my lady. You're doing great." The midwife said as she saw sweat beads on your forehead as you clutched Anthony's hand tightly.
You gritted your teeth, leaning back in your bed. "I can't... I can't do this anymore."
"Yes, you can, my love. Just a little longer." Anthony said, removing the strands of hair on your sweaty forehead.
You gather all your strength and push with all your might. The room fills with the sound of your pains. 
 Anthony's face breaks into a fragile smile as he hears the cry of a babe. "It's... it's a miracle."
"Mr. Bridgerton, It's time for you to cut the umbilical cord. Are you ready?" The midwife said, holding out the scissors towards Anthony. 
"I mostly am" The woman hands him the pair of sterilized scissors. He takes a deep breath and approaches the baby, who is in the hands of the midwife.
"Here we go, little one." Anthony carefully cuts the umbilical cord, feeling a mix of excitement and nervousness. The baby lets out a soft cry, signaling its arrival into the world.
"It's a beautiful and healthy baby boy!" The midwife said as she took the baby and gently placed him on your chest. Your eyes filled with tears of joy as you held your newborn close.
"Welcome to the world, my son. We will love and protect you always." Anthony spoke as his eyes were filled with tears.
"Our little miracle. Our family is complete." As you both gaze at your newborn son, the room is filled with a sense of pure bliss and the promise of a bright future.
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mondaymelon · 1 year
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— 𝗵𝗶𝘀. ♥
໒꒱ || :feat~ diluc, venti, xiao, abyss!aether x gn!reader ໒꒱ || cw: this wasn't supposed to be yandere... but it morphed into one. (WAS SUPPOSED TO HAVE SOFT XIAO AND EVERYTHING... mb) ໒꒱ || ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ (open!) : @manager-of-the-pudding-bank, @iamdedinside, @ilyuu, @achlysis, @swivy123, @solxima
⤷ how they make you theirs. ♥
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A heart-shaped box of chocolates and a fresh bouquet of red roses? There's no doubt it's DILUC who's left them on your doorstep.
It's not uncommon for the stoic man to find it difficult to express his emotions... and often, the redhead feels as if you aren't aware of how much he adores you.
Ah, but then again... his affection for you is much more intense than he'd like to admit, so perhaps it's for the better that you remain unaware.
That said, it can't hurt to leave a couple of gifts for you, right? Presents are a thing that are meant to make one happy, and whenever you're happy, so is he. Anything from sweets to flowers, possibly even a handful of jewels or a pendant... leaving them for you is the least he can do to make sure you know how loved you are.
Or perhaps... "love" isn't exactly the suitable word to describe the expanse of emotions he experiences whenever he sees you... after all, how could a mere four letters explain such a feeling that seemed to consume him, devour him whole?
But that aside, if you happen to confront him about the matter, softly thanking him with a faint tint to your cheeks... be careful, he might not be able to hold back his feelings any longer! As soon as you excuse yourself, Diluc mutters into the air, one gloved hand tentatively covering his mouth, his face flushed beyond belief.
"Ah, next time, should I gift you the severed hand of anyone who dares touch what is mine?" ♥
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What should've been just one drink with VENTI has turned to two, to three, to...
It's almost laughable, how the drunken bard has practically attached himself to your arm, clinging to you what seems to be rather loosely - yet the moment you try to weasel out of his grasp, his arms tighten around yours.
You can see by his dazed expression and the way a drunken flush has descended across his face that he's far from sober... and you're quite sure that you aren't better off yourself. Sensing his gaze, you turn as the male begins to speak, his words hopelessly slurred together.
"Hey hey, why do you keep trying to... escape...?" He pouts as he leans closer to you, pressing his face against your arm. "I...I'm not that unbearable, am I?"
"Eh? No... it's just a little hot in here... and you're too close. Back up a bit, would you?"
"Don't wanna." Did he usually act like this, or was his current state just making him all the more clingy? You supposed it didn't really matter, but the room did seem quite warm, especially with how Venti's heat mixed with yours... oh, were you blushing? Was that what it was?
Perhaps that would explain the way there's this odd thumping in your ears... is that your heart's own rhythm? Ah, no, it must just be the alcohol taking its toll.
"Hehe," Venti's voice somehow rings crystal clear amidst your foggy senses. "You're quite cute when you're like this, you know~" Since when had you leaned into his arms? He speaks some more, but his next words are barely heard by your ears:
"It makes me want to lock you up so that only I will be able to lay eyes on you... a beautiful dove that is mine." ♥
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There was something about you that seemed to draw XIAO in, a something that seemed to enrapture him.
And that fact, in and of itself, frustrated him. To feel so attached to something as fleeting as a mortal? Mortals, whose life could be vanquished like one blowing out a candle?
Ah, perhaps "frustrated" wasn't quite the word for it. After all, an angered someone wouldn't monitor your every move, would they? ...But he's doing this for your own good - at least, that's what he tells himself. Humans are fragile, more than anything, so he'll take the matter of your life into his hands and make sure you won't ever get hurt! He's truly being the benevolent adeptus, isn't he?
Oh, but now you seem worried, all of a sudden. You're trembling in his arms, weakly telling him about how you can always feel someone's gaze on you - how you're scared, how you... need him?
Fuck, he can't control the twisted smile that makes its way onto his face. You've admitted it, haven't you? You can't live without him.
And that's exactly what he wants.
To be beside you every waking second, to own your gaze, to own you... yes, he needs you as much as you need him.
As you curl up in his arms, basking in his quiet warmth as you slowly drift into sleep, his voice emits the quietest whispers.
"Don't worry, love. As long as I'm here, you won't ever need to worry about anyone. Your gaze, your attention... it's all mine." ♥
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He had already traveled these lands once, and AETHER's once vibrant world had grown gray... except...
Oh, but then you appeared. An anomaly, but a welcome one nonetheless.
Yes, you were something stunning.
In this dead realm, you were alive. Alive in the way you looked at him and alive in the way your eyes seemed to light up at the sight of him. It's something that starts off small - that is, his feelings for you. For the time being, delightfully innocent. Yet those emotions would only begin to swallow him whole, to consume him, bind him into a pit of no escape.
When had these affections grown so dire?
Perhaps he had merely turned a blind eye. He is well aware of how his heart longs for you, how his mind has grown clouded with nothing but thoughts of you, how he wants you to be his, and his only... ah, but was that truly such a selfish thing to hope for? Surely not. After all, in such a place he resided in - where all would heed to his beck and call... surely he could have you, right?
"My prince, is something wrong? You've been acting distant all morning." You trail after him as he attends to his work, eyes full of concern.
He turns, slowly. "Why are you so hesitant to call me by my name?"
"Oh, but I could never..." You shake your head at the thought.
His eyes narrow as he takes two swift steps forward, grabbing your chin in his hand and forcing it upwards. "Then take it as an order. Say my name."
"...Aether."
It sounds so perfect on your tongue.
"Ah, that's it. Let my name grace your lips, and don't you dare let it go. After all, and I'll make sure of it... You're mine." ♥
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(a/n) boo bitches im back <;33
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eamour · 7 months
Text
emotions do not matter.
! this post was highly inspired by former loa blogger aphrodite apprentice !
emotions and feelings, the way neville coins these words, are of different nature. when speaking of emotions, we are speaking of unconscious emotional experiences. feelings, however, are a conscious act and usually a reaction to our emotions — which, according to neville, are the secret to help us manifest.
emotions vs feelings.
an emotion is an immediate reaction to your emotional state of mind, whereas a feeling remains a lot longer and is felt for a longer period of time. emotions could be joy, fear, anger, lust or sadness. the counterparts in feelings would then be happiness, anxiety, bitterness, love or depression. if something unpleasant happens in your life, you will react to it emotionally first. only later, you will be able to form a feeling. as you can see, an emotion is a lot more intense and often manifests in a physical reaction (ex. facial expressions), not based on any reasoning while in contrast your feeling is based on logical reasoning. you could say a feeling is a way of explaining an emotion with thoughts which you have felt due to external experiences. this also means that not every feeling will always be accurate enough to explain an emotion and how you actually feel emotionally.
emotions cannot manifest ...
once again, a feeling isn’t the emotion itself. your feeling has nothing to do with our emotional state of mind but rather your mental state of mind. that means that your feelings, longterm, are more concerned with what you feel to be true or false, right or wrong and real or unreal.
mental · relates to the mind; thinking process.
emotional · relates to emotions; feeling process.
... only feelings can.
especially because a feeling does not necessarily have to correlate to an emotion, it is entirely up to you to define your feeling. you could replace feeling with what you accept, know or believe to be true. it's a thought. and an emotion isn't. you may not help the way you emotionally feel — and you shouldn’t! you should never suppress an emotion and feel sad, angry, etc. — but you can make the conscious decision to define your feeling. and since a feeling is a state, after all, you can manifest anything you'd like while feeling like you are at your lowest (or highest). your emotions will not manifest!
emotions arise.
as i was saying, an emotion is a pretty much sudden response. you may lose something and feel bad about it, maybe you had a fight with your friend or perhaps you were told some unsettling news. whatever it is, you will always feel some intense type of way from time to time.
emotions fade away.
the thing is, emotions come and go. you may feel super joyful one minute and then feel super sad the next. that’s totally normal, and we are definitely not trying to fix our wonderful human nature in any way.
emotional responses.
emotions are a response. when manifesting, when changing your feeling, you might also experience emotions of some sort. you may feel euphoric of manifesting something that has always felt very prestigious or hardly available to you.
but the same way, you could not feel anything at all. some manifestations aren’t going to move you the way some manifestations do, but that’s not an issue! the premise is, you don’t HAVE to feel excited. you don’t have to jump out of happiness whenever you think about how you manifested to find your keys you had lost the other day. remember, emotions come naturally. you don’t have to force them.
accepting and persisting.
the only thing you really have to do is to accept your desire as yours and persist in that assumption. feel it to be true, to be real, to be factual. that’s what feeling the wish fulfilled means. the feeling of your assumption to be realty.
with love, ella.
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dirtytomatoedwrites · 11 days
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HIS GIRL - PART 1
Summary: You were always Topper’s girl—until Rafe decided you were no longer his.
Paring: Rafe Cameron x Fem!Reader
Strictly 18+ No Minors to Interact
Warnings: Dark!Rafe, Rafe/Reader, Topper/Reader, Dub-Con/Non-Con, Coercive Behaviour, Fingering, Oral (w receiving) Drinking, Graphic Scenes / Smut.  
Author's Note: Hi my loves. I'm alive!! Trying to survive. The year has been a tough one but wanted to tell you all I love you. Wasn't feeling motivated and then suddenly inspiration struck and I've been writing this dark/rafe fic on and off for months but then when it came time to post it was too long to do as a one shot so I'll release it slowly over the next couple of days as short parts. Part 2 will hopefully be up tomorrow. Love you guys and I hope everyone is well ❤️
Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Please don’t steal or copy bits of my writing or any writing from other writers cause karma will get ya.
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“You wouldn't believe how happy she makes me,” Topper says, leaning back against the porch railing overlooking Tannyhill. His voice is thick with that syrupy sweetness that makes Rafe want to shove him clean off it.
Rafe leans against the opposite post, staring into the darkness. The summer air is suffocating, clinging to him, weighing him down, but not half as much as Topper’s words. He can’t stand the way Topper talks about you. His girl. Always his girl. Like he owns you, like he can hold your happiness in the palm of his hand and keep it there.
“She’s different, you know?” Topper keeps going, like he’s trying to sell you to him, as if Rafe hasn’t already memorized every detail, every curve of your lips, the way your eyes light up when you laugh or the soft timbre of your voice.
“She’s perfect, always so positive.. Like she literally sees the brighter side of life and the good in everyone. Sometimes... sometimes I feel like I don't deserve her, ya know? Like she can do so much better and yet somehow- she's picked me... I dunno it makes me want to do better. She makes me wanna be a better guy for her...”
Rafe's mouth curls into something that could be a smile but feels more like a scowl. He scratches his forehead.
“A better guy, huh? Jesus—Top, do you even hear yourself? You haven't even fucked her yet, and you're already actin' like a sap.”
It’s easier to mock, easier to keep up the front than to let anyone see how it really feels. How every time you laugh at one of Topper’s stupid jokes, it feels like a punch to Rafe's gut, a reminder that you’re still not his.
Topper doesn’t notice. He never does. Just keeps grinning like an idiot, like he’s won the fucking lottery.
“Can you just shut-up and be happy for me, man? Just this once? Look, it doesn't matter anyway. Cause it's time. Me and her are going to take our relationship to the next level.”
The words hit Rafe harder than they should, his fingers flexing, gripping the edge of the porch railing until his knuckles turn white. He doesn’t say anything at first, just feels his chest tighten, feels the familiar burn of jealousy flare up like a live wire. Because all he can think about is you, Topper’s hands on you, Topper fucking you, and it makes him want to break something, anything.
He forces himself to speak, keeping his voice steady, casual, like he’s just shooting the shit.
“The next level, huh? With little Miss Sunshine?” His smile is a thin, cruel line. “Thought you said you two were taking it slow, isn't she the type to wait for marriage or some shit."
Topper laughs, an easy sound that grates against Rafe’s nerves. “She’s not a virgin Rafe, she’s been with other guys before.  We’re just you know, trying to get to know each other first.  That's what I love about her. She wasn't going to just sleep with me after a couple of dates.  I had to prove myself to her and now it feels… it feels right. It’s the next logical step and I know she feels the same….” He says it like it’s so obvious, like he’s stating a fact, and Rafe’s skin prickles with a heat that has nothing to do with the summer night.
And there it is. The image that really makes Rafe's blood run cold: you, too sweet and naive, believing in something as stupid as love, and Topper, ready to ruin it with his clumsy hands and superficial feelings. This is the same guy who was pining after Rafe’s sister claiming to be in love with her only to have suddenly found you “the one” and had fallen head over heels in the span of a a few weeks.
No. That can't happen. Not like that. Not with you. Not when Rafe is the one who really cares about you. Had feelings for you longer than he’d dared to admit. Way longer before Topper swooped in and put a claim to you.
Rafe swallows hard as a new plan slowly takes shape in the dark recesses of his mind. If Topper wants to take things to the next level, fine. But it won't be with you. Not if Rafe has anything to say about it. He’ll get to you first. He’ll be the one you remember, the one who shows you something real, something raw. Because you deserve better than Topper. Or maybe, you deserve someone who isn't afraid to give you everything—the good, the bad, and the ugly. Someone like him.
Rafe smirks, letting his eyes slide over to Topper, keeping his tone light, almost teasing. “Yeah, well, good luck with that. You're gonna need it...”
Because he’s already decided. This isn’t over. Far from it. He’s going to make sure you know exactly what you’re missing before you ever let Topper Thornton fuck you. He’ll find a way. He always does.
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The music pulses through the house like a living thing, the bass vibrating in Rafe’s bones as he moves through the crowd. Bodies sway, drunk on cheap beer and the promise of a good time. Laughter spills into the air, mingling with the scent of sweat and weed, but Rafe has only one thing on his mind tonight: you.
He spots you almost immediately. You’re standing in the kitchen, a red Solo cup in your hand, laughing at something Topper is saying. Topper’s arm is draped around your waist, and Rafe feels a familiar flicker of irritation—a heat that curls in his chest like a slow-burning fire.
He watches the way you tilt your head back, your eyes bright with amusement, looking at the blond idiot like he'd hung the moon and it takes everything in Rafe not to walk over and tear Topper’s hands off you.
Instead, he waits, watching, calculating.
Topper leans in close, murmuring something in your ear, and you giggle, playfully swatting at his arms, your fingers drawing circles on Toppers' wrist. Rafe’s jaw tightens. He needs an opening, a chance to get you alone, and then he sees it—a flash of movement as Topper's phone buzzes in his pocket. Topper pulls it out, glances at the screen, and Rafe catches the brief look of annoyance that flits across his face. Perfect.
Topper leans down to you, his voice barely audible over the music. “Hey, babe, I’ve got to take this. It’s my dad. I’ll be back in a few, okay?” He kisses you on the forehead, and you nod, giving him that same sweet, innocent smile that makes Rafe’s stomach twist in knots.
As Topper slips away into the crowd, Rafe moves. He slides up next to you, a casual, easy grin on his lips, as if he just happened to be in the right place at the right time.
“Hey,” he says, his voice just loud enough to be heard over the music. “Topper leave you all alone?”
You look up, surprised but not unhappy to see him. That’s good—he can work with that. He's worked with less.
“Yeah, he had to take a phone call,” you said with a small smile. That smile. It's cute. You're cute. So fucking cute that Rafe’s mind spirals into the gutter. He wonders what you’d look like if he wiped that smile right off your face, watch your face contort with ecstasy—what sounds you’d make if he were to shove his cock down your throat. He 's sure you'd look just as cute all teary eyed and drooling.
Rafe leans against the counter, close enough that his arm brushes yours, but he doesn’t miss the way you pull back slightly. It’s subtle, not rude, but clearly setting boundaries. That’s fine. He'll enjoy tearing those boundaries down.
“He always gets those calls at the worst times, doesn’t he?” he says, keeping his tone light, but he knows exactly what he’s doing. Planting the seed. Making you think.
“I guess.” You laugh, a little uncertain, and Rafe knows he’s got you hooked, just a little. “But to be honest, I don’t mind. His dad’s helping him prep for an interview he has next week..”
“Oh—is that who he said was on the phone? His dad?” He lets the words hang in the air, just enough to make you wonder, to make you question.
You frown, just a flicker, but he sees it. “Well, yeah... who else would it be?”
Rafe shrugs, as if he hadn’t meant to say anything at all. “Oh, nothing. It’s just... Topper talks a lot. To a lot of people. Friends... Other girls... It's probably harmless, but, you know... people talk...” He flashes you a quick smile, a little sheepish, like he’s just looking out for you. "People talk..."
Your brow furrows, confusion and a hint of worry crossing your face. “What other girls?”
He waves a hand dismissively, playing it off. “It’s probably nothing. I shouldn’t have said anything. Just... you know how it is around here. People love to gossip; it’s mostly hearsay anyway.” But he knows he’s hit a nerve. He sees the doubt flickering in your eyes, the way you bite your lower lip as if you're turning over his words in your mind.
Before you can ask anything else, he changes the subject, shifting the focus.
“Hey, forget about it. Let me get you a drink. You look like you could use something stronger.” He reaches for a bottle on the counter, pouring two shots of something clear and potent, handing one to you with a grin. “Topper will just have to catch up when he gets back.”
You hesitate, just for a moment, but then you take the glass, smiling back at him. “Okay, okay” you say, clinking your glass against his.
The first shot goes down easy, the warmth spreading through your chest, and Rafe watches you closely, a satisfied smile playing at the corners of his mouth.
“Another?” he asks, already reaching for the bottle, not giving you time to think or say no. You nod, a little more eagerly this time, and he pours again, his movements smooth, practiced.
One drink becomes two, then three. Rafe keeps them coming, always ready with another pour, keeping your glass filled, keeping the conversation light and funny, distracting you from the fact that he'd only had one to your three. Distracting you from the way your head begins to feel pleasantly fuzzy. He’s careful, calculating, making sure you don’t notice how he’s watching you, gauging just how tipsy you’re getting.
By the time the third shot is gone, you’re giggling, swaying just slightly where you stand. A fucking lightweight if he’d ever seen one. Your cheeks are flushed, your eyes a little glassy, and Rafe knows he’s got you right where he wants you. He moves closer, his shoulder pressing lightly against yours, his voice dropping to a softer, more intimate tone.
“Hey, let’s get out of here for a bit. It’s too crowded, and you look like you could use some fresh air. What do you think?” He says it so smoothly, so surely, that you don’t realize the kitchen is already empty.
You blink, a little slow, unsure, but then you nod, laughing softly. “Yeah… maybe… for a few minutes...” Your words slur just a bit, but you don’t notice, don’t seem to care. You’re too wrapped up in the haze and the banter you're sharing.
He reaches out, fingers brushing lightly against your wrist, a touch that lingers, and this time, you don’t pull away. “Come on,” he urges, his voice low and coaxing. “Just for a bit. I promise it’ll be worth it.”
You nod again, and he leads you outside, into the cool night air, away from the party. He knows he's in dangerous territory, anyone can see you leaving with him but he doesn’t care. He’s too far gone. Drunk on the idea of having you all to himself, away from the lights, away from Topper, where it’s just you and him and the night.
And as he guides you down the porch steps, he knows he’s one step closer to what he wants. One step closer to having you, in whatever way he can. One step closer to making sure you’d never look at Topper the same way again.
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PART 2 / STORY MASTERLIST
Thanks for reading x If you enjoyed it please like / reblog / comment as I would love to know what you think. Part 2 will be up tomorrow but in the meantime lots of love ❤️
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whateveriwant · 7 months
Text
No thoughts, just Punk!Simon.
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Punk!Simon who dresses like he shops exclusively at Hot Topic. We're talking band t-shirts, combat boots, leather anything he can get his hands on. His style is bold, accessories maximized, and his entire wardrobe can be condensed into one of three colors: black, gray, and dark gray.
Punk!Simon who likes to wear lots of jewelry. Thick chains, bulky rings, decorative pins pressed into his jackets. His pieces are mostly silver and always real, none of that fake, turn your skin green shit. Keep him far away from metal detectors because he will set them off.
Punk!Simon who listens to only the grungiest of grunge rock music. Ask him for recommendations and he's spouting off six or seven bands that are so underground they may as well reside in the Earth's mantle. Don't leave him in charge of the playlist when driving together unless you want a bad case of tinnitus for the next four hours.
Punk!Simon who’s tatted up to high heaven. You thought he only had his left sleeve done, until you saw him working out without his shirt on one day. Turns out it doesn't just stop at his shoulder, but continues downward, wrapping around his trunk like vines of black and gray ivy.
Punk!Simon who's sporting more than one set of piercings. You ask him how many he has and (with a smirk) he tells you six, and you try to take a mental tally of the ones you've seen. 1) eyebrow 2) industrial 3) nostril 4) snake bites 5) areolas 6) . . . 6) . . . . . Huh. Where's the sixth?
Punk!Simon who experiments with a little body modification. Not just the normal piercings and tattoos, but things many people would consider to be on the more extreme side. Stretched lobes, sharpened canines, . . . bifurcated tongue? 👀
Punk!Simon who, on an uncharacteristically unmasked day, grabs your attention as you enjoy a round of drinks with friends. One minute you were sitting there, chatting, just minding your business, and the next your gaze was locked onto Simon's tongue as it darted out from in between his plump lips. You tried not to let your eyes linger, but you couldn't help it. You'd never seen something like that before in person. A tongue split right down the center, cut with surgical precision from the looks of it. It had clearly been done on purpose, not an accident or deformity, but you hadn't expected to see it as you watched him lick away a bourbon droplet from the corner of his mouth. As you stare, said mouth then curves slyly, impish, into a grin just shy of wicked. The movement makes your eyes dart upwards, where they meet Simon's, and he's giving you a look that says one thing: Caught you.
With that taunting expression, Simon turns in his seat, plants his elbows on the table, and blocks out the rest of your group as he asks lowly, “Somethin’ the matter, sweet’eart?”
His tone makes you startle, eyes rounding in surprise, mouth fluttering open and closed like a flailing fish. “N-No, I was– I– You– I–”
“Wha's wrong?” His brow furrows, teasing. “Cat got your tongue?”
Oh, the bastard.
But the reminder has your gaze dropping back to his lips unthinkingly, almost like you secretly wish he'll grant you another peek for your sick fascination.
He doesn't, keeps that serpentine tongue tucked within the confines of his jaw, but it's like he can read your mind because his smile curves further, drawing even closer to you as he says, “Curious?”
It's like the rattling of a deadly snake's tail, the way he hisses out the question. It means to warn you of danger ahead, of expert predation, of total and utter annihilation should you let him take a bite.
You drag your eyes back up to his smoky ones, half expecting to find slitted pupils that speak of poison. There isn't, just a mirthful quirk to his brow, and a solitary nod is all you can offer him in return.
“‘S alright.” He tips his chin in encouragement. “Go on, then. Ask.”
Another glance to his lips as you rummage through the dense brush that entangles your brain. Plucking one of the first you find, you ask, “Does it hurt?” eyes moving back to his.
That earns a little chuckle from Simon, an even smaller shake of the head. “Not now that it's healed,” he tells you truthfully, cheek dimpled in amusement. A beat passes, him waiting for another of your questions, and when you don't conjure one up, he jokes, “That it?” Clearly, he expected a barrage.
You take a second, searching for another, then simply, “Why?”
“Why what?”
“Why'd you do it?”
Simon raises his shoulder in a shrug. “Dunno. Wanted to do somethin’ fun; different I s’pose,” his reasoning is as carefree as his voice sounds. He leans back in his seat, crossing his arms over his chest. “Plus, ‘s more useful than you think,” he tacks on at the end, something mischievous glinting in his eye. Deception maybe. Bait definitely.
Useful, he says? You doubt it. Having a second tongue sounds like a burden honestly. You'd have to learn how to talk, eat, and drink all over again, just like when you were a small child. But if he said so, and with such confidence, then it begs the question: “How?”
How is having a second tongue useful?
Throughout your entire conversation, Simon's maintained steady eye contact with you, his focus never faltering from yours. But now, as your brow creases in confusion, Simon breaks away, lids lowering as he gazes down at the floor. He rolls a thought around his head for a moment, that cheeky look still etched into his face. When he huffs an amused breath through his nose, it only deepens his smirk that much more, and then slowly, painfully unrushed, his eyes rake up, up, up your body, until settling on yours once again.
The look he gives you now is dark, a grin like the devil’s as he peers up at you. The tip of his forked tongue pokes out as it makes another swipe across his bottom lip.
No thoughts, except for Punk!Simon who takes you back to his place and shows you just how useful two tongues can be.
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randomshyperson · 2 months
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Hey
Hope you get rid of this writers block soon ✨
How about hand holding no 34 with Wanda 🥺
Wanda Maximoff x Reader
prompt: holding hands while driving | warnings: none.
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When you suggested taking the lead, it had much more to do with the crestfallen witch in the front seat than the retired Avenger's possible fatigue from driving for a few hours. Don't let Barton hear you say that.
Wanda gave you a brief smile as you took the driver's seat, and unfortunately, your attempt at conversation ended up being disastrous because you simply didn't know what to say to her.
Losing her country, and her brother, and growing up in a civil war only to be dragged from battle to battle her whole life doesn't seem like something you can fix, no matter how many bad jokes you say to try to make her smile. Still, you think you should keep trying. Because Wanda is so special, she's so sweet and clever, and you enjoy her company so much. She deserved all the good things life had to offer, even if she didn't believe it.
You end up getting so distracted by your own thoughts that you don't notice that Wanda has been stealing glances in your direction for a good few minutes until she finally calls you.
"Huh, sorry, I was distracted." You mumble, glancing at her quickly before focusing on the road again. "We'll be there in the morning if you're wondering."
She's looking at you funny. Maybe you mumbled something. It wouldn't be the first time you've let your thoughts slip away. It doesn't recall you that Wanda didn't need you to speak to know what you were thinking, and focused on the road, you didn't notice the brief red flash of her eyes either.
"I wasn't." She retorts, perhaps more harshly than she'd like. You don't know, but Wanda hates how she's a disaster whenever she tries to talk to you. But still, you never seem to mind her clumsiness. You laugh weakly, nodding. She uncrosses her arms, her nervous fingers gripping the seat. "I mean... this trip isn't so bad. And I wouldn't mind staying in the car a little longer."
You hum thoughtfully, clicking your tongue afterward. "I get it, I guess. The car feels safe, right? While we're here, no one on the team is fighting, nothing is falling apart. It's calm. It almost feels like... well, just a trip between friends." The tables have turned a bit, and now it's Wanda who feels the sudden urge to comfort you. You, who have been nothing but kind and considerate, who are watching your entire family fall apart because of a mistake she made in Lagos, even though everyone keeps telling her it wasn't her fault. 
"Maybe we should stay here." She murmurs, and at the same time, you both glance in the rearview mirror, where Clint and Scott are sleeping in the backseat. "Maybe we could just not leave." 
"We already left, Wands." You sigh sadly. One of your hands goes to the gearshift, there's a small curve in the road. "I did it, in Berlin, when I refused to fight my brother. And you did it, when you agreed to leave the Tower and get in this car." You say, one hand resting on the seat. "Maybe it's finally time for us to be proud of our choices and start standing up for what we believe in. Not just as a team, but as individuals." She knows you're talking about the accords, but she doesn't want to think about it again. Because for the past few weeks, everything has been a mess and within a few hours, she has the feeling that there won't be any more Avengers. So Wanda stops squeezing the seat and decides to squeeze your hand instead. You look at her immediately, before turning your attention back to the road. She makes a motion of pulling away, seeing your shoulders tense, but you adjust your grip to intertwine your fingers together. Her heart skips two beats in a row, but even with her voice cracking, she speaks; "You're right. We should honor our choices. And our feelings." There's a soft blush on her cheeks, which when you notice it in the rearview mirror, spreads to yours. 
You nod in agreement and don't let go of her hand anymore.
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sanjisboyfie · 1 year
Text
yandere luffy headcanons
HAS BEEN LIVING IN MY BRAIN FOR A BIT TOO LONG it needed to be on the interest for everyone to see
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yandere ! luffy . . . does not like at all when people eat up too much of your time, it really, really ruins his mood. he's seen people on the islands you've visited be really attracted to your charisma and it really pisses him off. he doesn't even want to imagine someone else coming into your life and being more important than him. no matter how angry he gets about it, though, he won't blame you. he'll blame the other person.
he's making unsatisfied noises at how long you've been standing and talking to the old lady about the prices of the goods. to him it was too boring to be conversing about it for so long, but now he was also getting annoyed with how attentive you'd been to her.
"let's go! let's go! let's go!" luffy began berating you for staying there for so long, trying to tug you away from the old lady.
"ah, he's quite lively isn't he?" she didn't seem bothered by his behavior, but luffy was bothered by her comment.
"you're takin' up too much of our time, old lad-" a hand clamped onto luffy's mouth before something rude could properly leave luffy's lips.
you bowed apologetically to the woman and dropped beri into her hands and took your share of the groceries.
"yay, thank god," luffy sighed, draping himself over your shoulders to increase skinship, "let's just go back to the sunny, please!!!"
yandere ! luffy . . . very clingy, beyond the normal bounds of that word. he feels as though it's only right that he should be practically living in your skin. he's your portable human backpack, wrapping his arms around your neck and legs around your waist. he also accidentally found out it was the perfect way for him to spy on you and whatever you did. he'd be watching with an attentive gaze at the tasks you do, who you talk to, etc. and he loves it. all he has to do is rest his chin on your shoulder and then he gets to see everything you see? he loves it.
yandere ! luffy . . . who definitely has zero concept of what manners are when it comes to people besides you. he doesn't really care if the person he's talking to thinks his tone is rude or brash, they're not you so it doesn't really matter to him how he speaks to them. he just looks at them as if they're weird for demanding more respect from him and then he blatantly refuses to give it to them. why should he respect other people that aren't you? that's weird...
yandere ! luffy . . . asks the most invasive questions, with an innocent smile on his face too. another thing he does with an innocent look is threatening people, wayyyy too casually.
"do you want me to kill them?" he grinned, laughing to himself - as if the idea would be funny. the person he was referring to was some woman that was shooting her shot with you. she was smiling ear-to-ear and gently asking if you'd like to spend time with her, somewhere quiet. luffy overheard as he was sitting behind you and whipped his head around, looking her up and down.
"luffy!" you'd scold him, chopping down on his head at the threat. he didn't pay your words any mind though, a displeased look on his face.
"she's interrupting our time together, though," luffy whined, pointing a finger at the woman who was now more baffled than bashful, "you! don't think you'll get away with this! i'll beat you up!"
"luffy! stop!!" you defended the poor woman, but she had already ran away in fear.
"good, she's gone! c'mon, have some of this meat!"
yandere ! luffy . . . places his strawhat on your head knowing that it makes everyone that interacts fear for their life. the hat has become an image associated with the intimidating captain and the destruction he brings to enemies that step in his way. also it makes him happy, fuels a possessive desire in his soul.
yandere ! luffy . . . doesn't really know exactly what he wants in terms of a relationship with you because he just isn't informed or has experience in that stuff. but ! he does know he wants you, completely. he wants you and will not stop striving for you until all of you is his to have, own, and keep. (emphasis on keep because you won't ever be leaving him)
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chaostroberry1 · 3 months
Note
I need a part 2 of Beelzebub x Arché! Reader. What if the gods held a court meeting to see the potential danger of the reader and Odin's goals. When Odin wants to evade the assumptions of the people in the congregation (or even to the point of telling the reader to kill everyone there), the reader instead says that he does not want to destroy the people of gods or humans because he plans to marry Beelzebub.
Or showing how he REALLY loves Beelzebub by fuckin him shamelessly infront of them all.
Tyy pookie!! ^⁠_⁠^
Bro I love this😭 primordial god reader is mad interesting.
Beelzebub × Dom!male!primordial god!reader
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....
All eyes were on you, as you as you feasted on food, ignoring everyone's prying eyes. Man, food has really became tastier huh? It's been so long since you've eaten like this. Beelzebub just sat there uncomfortably, glancing at you a few times before returning his eyes down.
Everyone was suspicious of Odin, if anything bad was included in his plans that could potentially lead to the destruction of the gods, everyone knew they had to stop him.
Odin was obviously aware that there were too many of the strongest gods there, capable of ganging up on his ass. But, he knew that none of them combined, could leave a single scratch on you. But look at you over there, moronic and stupidly eating food without a care about giving respect. Hey, to your defense, you were alive before zues, and possible as old as the other primordials.
it should be THEM to pay their respects to you. But it was a little difficult to believe that you were older, looking at how young you acted. like a matured/(not really) matured young adult who probably eats pizza slices for dinner.
"Hey, old man. Are you sure you ain't up to anything suspicious? Things don't seem very 'normal' to me." Shiva spoke, two of his arms on his head while having his other two arms crossed. Odin closed his eyes, starting to get irritated, wanting to avoid anyone's assumptions and suspicions of his plans.
"I have no idea what you are talking about."
"then what about the guy sitting in this room right now? Doesn't seem to me like he's anyone you'd just walk by." Loki teasingly joked, knowing he'd get on the old man's nerves. "I agree, seeing a primordial god...isn't something you'd just see out of the blue" Thor spoke, everyone gathering their assumptions and ideas for the so called "all-realm-altering god".
Finally, Odin's last nerve popped, before he slowly spoke. "(M/n), if you want to prove to them that you are really so powerful, why don't you just kill everyone here?"
Everyone's eyes popped open, immediately turning their heads to you, who stopped chewing, your eyes slowly darting up to meet their gazes.
"No."
"what do you mean 'no'? You don't plan on killing all the gods and ruling over all realms?"
"Its not that I can't. I'm simply uninterested." With one more chew, you continued "I plan to marry Beelzebub." And with that statement, everyone was speechless. Zues chuckling while Loki grinned, "my my, I didn't know that even an all powerful deity would be interested in such.. matters~"
"ooh! Ooh! I have a question! How strong are primordial gods? Can we fight? Please please please??" A hyper, dog like god spoke. His name was...Anubis? Right, that's his name. He's quite energetic, you only chuckled and shook your head. "No, not right now. Once I settle in, I'll give you a good fight, okay buddy?" He whimpered sadly at your response, sitting down with a huge frown.
Then, you suddenly got serious as you looked back to the others.
"now, speaking of our marriage. If any of you try to interfere with my plans, it will end in bloodshed. Every single one of you will have their heads displayed on a shelf. Do not test me."
That statement was enough to make everyone feel dread. They knew that no matter how strong or respected they were, they can not lay anything on you. You were far more than just powerful. An unmeasured type of power that many seeked to have, but could never get.
Your hands trailed onto Beelzebub's face, giving him a heated kiss, and a beast like grin. His pretty face was a huge turn on.
you felt lust grow when you eyed Beelzebub, before standing up and bending him over. Everyone's mouth dropped when you started brutally fucking him at an intense speed, as he just took it, whining and crying for you. His legs spread wide open, his hole already very agape, which was proof of your cock inside of him a little while ago before the meeting.
"still so wide and pretty for me..."
Everyone present just decided to leave, knowing that they couldn't utter a word in your presence. Beelzebubs moans the only thing that could be heard in the room while you put him in multiple positions.
Odin sighed, deciding that he'd just have to talk to you some other time. For now, everyone should just leave you to the poor god, who was bended over and now covered in kisses and hickies. Your wife, male wife, as you'd like to call it.
When I tell you all of Valhalla shook from the force and speed of your pounding, I mean it.
You couldn't wait for the marriage, you'd fuck him in front of everyone after you'd seal your kiss, and that was a mental note you made sure to remember. You wer gonna show everyone who your territory was. And how they couldn't do a thing about it. Man, he'd look so pretty in a wedding dress.
You couldn't wait.
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notafunkiller · 1 year
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you were mine just yesterday - co-written with @marvelouslizzie
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Summary: It's been a while since your break up with Bucky happened, but you're still not over him. You try to move on, go out, and have fun with your friend, Steve, but you end up in the same bar you two went to often. It also just happens that Bucky is there too, with Natasha by his side. It doesn't take long for you two to end up getting into old habits.
Pairing: exes!Bucky Barnes x female reader
Word count: 10.7K
Warnings: 18+, second chance romance, teasing, dirty talk and pet names, language, jealousy, fingering, nipples play, oral séx (the reader receiving), choking, clit play, metal arm, no condom (but they are both clean and the reader is on birth control), aftercare, alcohol (but she is not even tipsy), death mention, no mention of y/n.
Bucky Barnes Masterlist
Please, do not repost or translate without my permission! I really hope you’ll enjoy it, I can’t wait to read what you think.
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The screams he hears when he opens the door and holds it so Natasha can get inside first already make him regret agreeing to this. He absolutely hates crowded places, but at the same time the food is great here, and it's literally one street away from his apartment, he can suck it up a little.
“Come on, I'm starving.”
Bucky looks around, trying to spot anything and anyone that could be suspicious, but everything seems fine.
“You can't relax even for a second, can you?”
He rolls his eyes, but right before he can comment something sarcastic in return, he hears it... your laugh, followed by a strong smell of cherries, and he immediately looks toward the bar. There you are: dressed in a lovely shirt and your favorite pair of pants, with a huge smile on your face. You look out of this world but you aren't alone, no. His stomach aches at the sight of you sharing drinks with his fucking best friend as if nothing else matters.
“Bucky?” Natasha's voice isn't enough to make him tear his eyes off you. “Hey! You said you're starving.”
“What the fuck is this?”
Bucky’s voice doesn’t go unheard by Steve.
“Oh shit,” he mumbles. “Bucky is here with Natasha.”
The moment you hear Natasha’s name you feel like someone punched you in the guts. You instantly start looking around and it doesn’t take long until you finally see them together, standing there and looking for a place. Bucky with Natasha… Why doesn’t that surprise you? A better question: Why does it hurt that much to hear it? You should have expected this.
“We should go and say hi. They're staring.”
“Is this a fucking joke?” Bucky finally looks at Natasha with a deep frown. “Did you know this?”
“Know what?”
He finds it hard to speak as if something was stuck in his throat. “About... them.”
“I didn’t know they would be here.”
Bucky seems like he doesn’t know what to do. He's trying his best not to have a breakdown right then, because how could this happen to him?
“Maybe we should leave,” you say to Steve, feeling uncomfortable already. You are in no mood to watch Bucky and Natasha together. But when you make a move to stand up, Steve gently touches your hand to stop you.
“You can’t run away from him forever.” He’s right. You can’t. You don’t feel like facing them today, but you shouldn’t be the one running either. You slowly sit back down, feeling grateful that you aren’t alone.
“Can you suck it up a little, Barnes? I won’t act like I didn’t see them just because you can’t face your ex, who, by the way, is still our friend.” Natasha rolls her eyes at him, hiding her smirk and starts to walk toward the bar. “Plus, they look like they’re having fun.”
You notice Steve smiling, but you have no idea why. When you see Natasha coming toward you and Bucky following her like a puppy, you understand and try to fake a smile, too, before taking a big sip from your drink.
“Hi. What a coincidence, nice to see you here.” Natasha leans in to kiss Steve on the cheek, then you after you let the glass on the table.
“Hi,” you force the word out of your mouth as nicely as you can. It’s not that you dislike Natasha. On the contrary, you find her a smart, well-traveled, obviously, woman. You liked her opinions in most of the conversations you had, but it doesn’t mean you aren’t jealous of her when she’s around Bucky because of the same reasons.
“So nice to see you, Natasha.” Steve keeps the conversation going. “Bucky!” He tilts his head just a little to see him behind Natasha.
You don't dare to look, though. Your hands are already sweating. Seeing him so close would make your state even worse.
“Steve.” You close your eyes instinctively at the sound of his voice, but you open them when he mentions your name too.
“Hi.”
“What are you having? This looks sooo tasty.” Natasha has always been good at making conversation regardless of her feelings, and you never wished more than then to be like that too.
“Oh.” Steve casually stirs his drink with the cocktail pick. “It’s a cherry cocktail but it’s not on the menu.”
“Of course.” Bucky steps aside from behind Natasha and comes closer to you with a serious, unreadable expression. “The famous cherry cocktail.” His tone is dripping in sarcasm as he leans in and, without any warning, he takes Steve's glass and downs it in three seconds. “Less flavor than usual.”
You don't realize the death glare you're giving Bucky until you feel Steve's hand on your skin, probably trying to calm you down. You can’t believe his audacity. This is the man who broke your heart and left you and he thinks he can just come here and act like this? Hell no!
Bucky's eyes fall to your arm and leans in again, placing the empty glass down and taking two cherries from the cherries glass.
“It’s fine,” Steve says in a way that is extra calm.
“Yeah, it is fine.” You find yourself agreeing immediately. “I can get them to make you a better one.”
“Well, I am curious now.” Natasha gives you a warm smile. “Or do we interrupt something?”
“I can order you one, as well, if you want.” You offer with a fake smile on your face, ignoring her implication. You can feel Bucky’s gaze on you even though you aren’t looking in his direction.
“No need. Come on, Nat. I’m starving.”
Nat…
“You sure?” You are only looking at Natasha and ignoring Bucky. “I can talk to the bartender and he can bring you the cocktail. He’s a good friend, he wouldn’t mind.”
Bucky puffs, shaking his head.
“You okay, Buck?” Steve can't help but ask.
“Yeah, are you okay?” You try to look as casual as possible.
“If I weren't, would you offer me a drink made by your good friend, too?” His eyes and voice don't tell you much. He asks you this in the most casual way possible. Even Natasha looks surprised.
“I think you need something stronger.” Your eyes are wandering to Natasha for a second. “Since you already tried it and didn’t like the cherry cocktail that much.”
He shrugs, not denying what you said despite it being a huge lie. Then he smirks and looks at Natasha and Steve. “I assume you don't mind us joining you, right? I'm starving.”
Of course he doesn’t ask you. He knows your answer and still decides to do this. Okay, if that’s what he wants…
Steve turns his head to you, asking you indirectly if this is okay, and you nod, trying not to look affected. Especially when he sits next to you with Natasha on his left.
You instinctively move away from him and closer to Steve.
Bucky starts to take off his jacket as he speaks. “I'm not gonna eat you, you know?”
“Hmm?” You give him a look.
“I'm not into human meat, don't worry.” He takes off his gloves. Your eyes immediately fall to his hands and you feel the sadness spread inside you. It’s so overwhelming to be around him, yet you don’t want to give him the pleasure of seeing how hard this is for you.
“I’m aware. I’m just more comfortable like this.” You reach for your drink and take a sip, turning your attention to Steve. “Should I order a new one for you or would you rather drink something else?”
Bucky puffs. “He can order for himself. He is over 100 years old, doll.”
You ignore Bucky’s comment and look over to Natasha. “Do you wanna try the cocktail, Natasha?”
She hesitates, looking at you and at Bucky, and you try not to roll your eyes.
“Do you have any suggestions with strawberries? I love strawberries.” She points to Steve. "He does, too."
 “I’m more of a cherry girl, but we can ask my friend. I’m sure he has some good suggestions.”
“Such a close friend”
“Yeah.” You ignore Bucky and raise your hand. The bartender gives you a smile before coming closer.
“Hey. Is everything alright?”
“Everything is fantastic. I just need another one of these.” You raise your nearly empty glass. “And Natasha wants to ask for your recommendations for a drink with strawberries.” You point at her while saying her name.
He gives a few options and both Steve and her agree on one.
“What about you?”
Bucky looks at him bored. “A burger: chicken, extra pickles, please.”
“Any drinks?”
“Your cheapest beer will do.” You respond instead of Bucky, and he immediately gives you a questioning look and lifts his eyebrow. But he doesn’t seem to care, and the bartender just nods and leaves.
 “So,” Natasha starts. “For how long have you two been hanging out?”
Steve looks at Bucky. “We never stopped hanging out.”
“Why would you?” Natasha winks at you, and Bucky feels he is going crazy. Many images of you and Steve laughing, walking together, even kissing take over his mind.
“Exactly.” You smile in response.
“What about you two?” Steve asks with a mischievous smile on his face.
“What about us?” Bucky asks immediately, giving Steve a hard look. “Do you want to gossip with the ladies present?”
 “That never stopped you before.” You didn’t intend to say it out loud, but it’s already out there.
Bucky's head instantly turns to you. “What?”
“I said that never stopped you before.” It’s too late to back out so you decide to go for it. Bucky usually doesn’t care who is around. He says what he wants to say when he wants to say it. So your presence shouldn’t stop him.
“I heard you the first time. I was waiting for additional explanation.”
“Oh, good. I thought your hearing was getting worse for a sec.” You just look into his eyes. “You always say what you wanna say. So why would us being present stop you now?”
“My senses are perfect, thank you for your concern. Natasha and I are hanging out, too, obviously.”
Your bartender comes back with the drinks and that stops the conversation. He puts your drinks by one by, saving Bucky’s beer for the last.
“We’re out of our cheapest one so I brought the second cheapest. I hope that’s okay.”
 “I'll survive,” Bucky murmurs.
“Your burger is coming up in five minutes.” And with that remark, he leaves you four alone.
“This tastes amazing,” Steve smiles, squeezing your hand, and Natasha immediately agrees.
“Yeah.”
“Glad you like it.”
“Want to try it, Bucky?” She asks him with an innocent smile, which makes your blood boil.
Bucky shakes his head and drinks from his bottle. “Ah, this tastes too expensive.”
“You’ll survive,” you whisper, imitating his tone.
“Oh, I will.” He gives you the most charming smile you've seen in a while and takes your glass to take a sip.
“Will you stop drinking other people’s drinks without asking them?” You can’t hide how done you are with his entitled ass.
 “You'll survive, I'm sure.” He mocks you without a care in the world. You can feel the tension increasing, but you have no idea what to do. You can’t control your reactions, and he keeps pushing you.
“Oh, I will, but…” You move closer to him just a little. “If you need… you know… some help you can have a drink on me.”
 “Hmm.” He chuckles and moves closer, too immediately catching on to what you meant. “Don't worry about it, I am sure Nat would cover me.”
“I am sure she would.” You smile back, fighting the urge to roll your eyes and break the glass into tiny pieces, so you just put your drink in front of him. No way you are gonna keep drinking that.
“Hey, Adam!” The bartender looks at you from a bit far away. “Same drink, please.” He winks first and then nods.
Bucky frowns and downs the drink, trying to look unaffected. “You had no problems sharing drinks with me before.”
“Now I’m more careful about what I put into my body.”
Steve tries to mask his laugh by fake coughing, but you notice anyway. So Bucky must do it, too.
“I can see that. You don't mind sharing drinks with my best friend now.” He gives you a bitter smile for the first time in ages. The way he emphasized the word drinks makes you wonder what’s running through his mind.
Adam comes back with his burger and side dish, and you feel your mouth water. “Enjoy and let me know if you want anything else.”
Bucky takes a big bite from his burger as you reach out to his fries and take a couple without a care. If he can freely drink your cocktail, you can steal some of his fries.
Natasha and Steve look at you surprised.
“What are you doing?” Bucky asks, chewing loudly on purpose.
“Taking some of your fries.”
“Thought we don't share drinks and food anymore. We moved on from that. We passed that stage.”
You remark his and Natasha's closeness again and feel your blood boil.
“So it’s okay for you to do it, but it’s a problem when I do it?” Yet you take another fry and put it inside your mouth, looking directly into his eyes. You want him to know this is not about fries or sharing stuff.
Bucky's surprise is visible all over his face. He's simply speechless even after Adam brings you your drink and you give him a forced smile.
“Thanks, Adam,” You say like everything is fine. “I will use the restroom. Would you keep an eye on my drink for me, Steve?”
And you leave without waiting for an answer.
You go to the restroom, lock your door and sit down. You just need a minute alone because all of this is too much for you. Seeing him with Natasha tonight is hard enough, but he keeps challenging you. He acts like nothing is changed, but everything changed when he decided to walk away. Even though you don’t wanna admit it, your feelings for him are still there and they’re making everything harder.
You take a couple of deep breaths and remind yourself this was going to happen one day. It just happened to be today and you can get through it. You’ll be fine.
You get up, unlock the door and just wash your hands, splashing some water on your neck, too, before you look at yourself in the mirror. At least you are looking alright.
You jump when you hear the door opening and turn around just to see Bucky locking the door again.
“This is the ladies’ room!”
He looks at you as if he can't understand what you're saying.
“I said this is the ladies-”
“I heard you the first time. What the fuck do you think you're doing?”
You puff. “I should be the one asking that question.”
“I am not here sharing drinks with your best friend, am I?” He walks toward you.
“No, you are here with Nat.”
Bucky washes his hands in response, not understanding how you can compare Nat with Steve. You are here on a date with his best friend.
“Have fun with Nat and stay away from my drinks.” You leave the ladies’ room, but he’s right behind you.
“I wasn't finished with you.”
“That sounds like a you-problem. I have a drink that’s waiting for me.”
“Just be honest and say Steve is waiting for you.”
“Just like Nat is waiting for you.” You look like you are tired of this conversation already when you snap.
“Are you having fun, doll? Are we bothering you? Did you want to enjoy your date all alone?”
You make a face when you hear the word date. So that’s why he was acting like that. He thinks you are on a date with Steve. “What I do with my life is none of your concern! Just go and enjoy your own date.”
“None of my concern, right?” His calm facade is finally falling. “You are on a fucking date with my best friend!”
“Oh, so that’s why you decided to be an ass? Because you think Steve picked up the toy you threw away?”
When he gets so close to you, you feel like you're suffocating. “Careful.”
“Or what?”
“You forgot what happens?”
“Oh,” you say in a mocking tone. The audacity he has! “Well, too bad you don’t get to do that anymore.”
“Does he do that?” He closes his eyes, still too close to you. “Do you let him touch you? Is this why he isn't around?”
You raise your hand instantly, wanting to slap him right there for crossing a line, but you manage to control yourself, remembering his past. You see him closing his eyes instinctively and you sigh. You might be mad at him, but you wouldn't hurt him like this. He is not a bad person… And you don’t wanna bring his trauma back.
You take a deep breath and retreat your hand.
“Maybe he isn’t around because you are an ass, did you consider that?”
“Why him?” He opens his eyes. “I would take all of your slaps instead of living through this.”
He sounds so weak, and tired, and sad. There is a part inside you that gets angrier because he thinks so low of you, but there is another part that understands and wants to assure him you would never do that to him.
“Why him what? I’m not dating your best friend, Bucky. Pull your head out of your ass!”
He freezes. He really freezes and lets out a deep, deep breath as if he's been holding it for a long time. His forehead drops until it meets yours, and you gasp surprised.
“I was going insane, baby. I felt like my life was just...”
You take a step back, not letting yourself enjoy his touch or his baby. “It doesn’t change the fact that you are here with Nat.”
“What about Nat?”
“What about Nat?” You repeat his question. “Did you forget she’s waiting for you? Or the fact that you suddenly left me? Me not dating Steve changes nothing. So stop calling me baby or doll or whatever charming pet name you come up with.”
Bucky laughs humorlessly as he shakes his head. “You think I'm really with Nat? You think I could ever replace you? That I'd even try?”
“Then why the fuck did you leave me?” You are so close to shouting, but you still don’t want people to hear you. Your eyes are getting filled with tears.
 “Why do you think, huh? Do I look happy to you? You think I'd leave you to date Romanoff?”
 “Why not? She’s perfect!”
Bucky looks at you dumb-faced. “For who? For what? Why do you...”
“For you! You two are a perfect match!” You take a breath, trying to contain your emotions. You don’t want to cry in front of him.
He is instantly touching your arms again, making you shiver. “Why would you say that?”
“Because even if you aren’t dating now, you will realize how perfect she is for you eventually. So go back inside. Don’t let her wait.” You sniffle, your head is slightly shaking because of all the emotions you are holding back.
His flesh hand grabs your chin and you feel his hot lips on top of yours before you can react.
The way he kisses you makes you wanna cry even more. It reminds you of everything you tried so hard to forget yet never managed to…
Even though you want to give in, you take a step back. You can’t handle another heartbreak.
“Don’t…” The tears start to fall down. “Just don’t.”
“Do you not want me?” His eyes are teary, too, and there is nothing to hide anymore. But he can't ask this, he can't do this to you. He is unfair. He left you, he broke it off. He...
“Do you have any idea how much you hurt me?” You try to dry your tears with the back of your hand. “You can’t just come back, kiss me and expect everything to be fixed!”
 “I am so fucking sorry, baby. I wasn't trying to hurt you.” He stops himself and sighs. “I really don't deserve you. I keep making you cry.”
“Saying sorry isn’t enough, Bucky. What did you think would happen when you left me? Did you think it wouldn’t break my heart? Is this what you want to hear? That you broke my heart when you left me? Here! I’m heartbroken because of you. Happy now? Can we go back inside now?”
“I just wanted...” He shakes his head, wiping off his tears. “Let's just get inside.”
“What did you want Bucky? Tell me. What did you wanna hear?”
“I'm not worth it, that's fucking clear. I am sorry for this whole mess I brought into your life.”
“Don’t ever say that!” You angrily point your finger at him. “You know how much I think you deserve. This is solely about you leaving me. You made that decision, remember? I opened my heart to you and you left me! Don’t make me feel guilty about getting hurt.”
 “Don’t you realize how dangerous it is?” He says desperately, looking you in the eye. “I would get you killed... we all would...”
“Really? Is that why you left me?” It angers you more than you imagined. This is probably the worst reason he could give you. Like you were safe before meeting him. As if he didn’t save your life.
“Bucky?”
You jump when you hear Natasha.
“What?” He snaps, looking at her. There is nothing in his eyes that can be even close to desire, you notice.
“Are you gonna come back or should we leave and let you cry for the rest of the night?”
“No, Nat, we're leaving.”
You grab Bucky’s arm and drag him out despite the shocked look on Natasha’s face, and Bucky just lets you.
“Pay the check. He's gonna transfer you the money for our order later,” you say casually while half of the restaurant looks at you.
Steve throws him his leather jacket without hiding his smirk, and Bucky catches it, giving him a typical Bucky look without saying anything.
“Where are we going?” Bucky finally asks when you’re outside and you let go of his arm.
“Your place obviously. Did you walk or took the motor like a lazy ass?”
Bucky rolls his eyes and puts on his jacket. “I walked.”
“Fine. So we are walking back to your place then.” You wait for him to move as he laughs and shakes his head.
“What?”
“You said that when we met too.”
You roll your eyes. He’s always been a stubborn ass. You remember him insisting the serum will do its job and he’ll heal faster, but you couldn’t just let him bleed, so you had to drag him to your place. “Just walk.”
“Bossy.”
“If I remember correctly, you said that when we met.” You don’t wait for him and just start to walk, trying not to think about what he said.
You miss his huge grin and his boyish look, but you hear his footsteps. He reaches your side in no time. “I missed you.”
You close your eyes for a second and try really hard not to say you missed him too. “I can’t do this again, Bucky. I can’t get my heart broken for the second time.” You sound like you are in pain.
He nods. “I didn't even think you’d want that.”
“I just don’t understand what you are trying to do.”
“You deserve to know the truth and the context, so you can stay away from us for good.”
You huff, but you don’t say anything. You two walk in silence for a while and luckily it doesn’t take more than five minutes to arrive at his place.
You get to his door and the familiarity is killing you. So many memories come to your mind and you're not even inside yet.
When you finally step in, it's like time has not passed: the TV, the couch... except for the sheet. The sheet is back on the floor.
“Are you sleeping on the ground again?”
Bucky sighs, taking off his shoes. “Can we ignore that? Let's focus on your questions. Do you want a glass of water?”
“Answer my question while pouring me a glass of water then.”
“The man who almost killed you when we met?” He opens the fridge and takes out the water bottle before directly handing it to you. “He's a part of the new wave of Hydra.”
You look at him, feeling completely confused. You don’t even notice the water bottle.
Hydra?
 “They might know about you...” He bites his bottom lip entirely, showing his frustration. “We managed to take a few down. They are careless as fuck, so young and dumb.” He just puts down the bottle on the kitchen counter.
 “You… left me… because you think they are after me because of you?”
Bucky looks away. “Does it matter?”
“Isn’t that why I am here? Because you wanted me to know the truth. So just tell me. Is that why you left me?”
“He knew your name, where you work, your family.” Bucky pauses, trying to control his anger. “He knew we were together. I have no idea how because you know... you know I never let my guard down. And what if they’d have gotten you? What if they do? You need to stay away from me, us.”
He can’t believe Steve or the rest thought it’s okay to continue to be around you.
“So you decided to leave me alone, be a more vulnerable target. Good job Bucky! Very well done!” You start to clap. “You are the dumbest person I have ever met.”
“Do you honestly think I left you unprotected?” Bucky puffs, as if he can't believe you'd ever think that.
“Then why did you have to leave? What was the point, huh? If they already knew all that stuff about me… about us… What the fuck was the point?”
“What if they kidnap you or kill you just have me back?”
You sigh. “You know that’s always a possibility in our world right?”
He hesitates before speaking. “What if they trigger me?”
You take a frustrated deep breath. There is no way they can do that again. No way! But if he thinks that, then it means he doesn’t trust himself or his skills. Again. “You accepted the defeat already.”
Bucky snaps immediately. “Do you not understand I could kill you? I could kill you and not even...” He closes his eyes unable to look at you as he speaks. He could not recognize you. He could make you suffer in the worst possible ways if you were his target.
“This is why I said you accepted the defeat already!”
 “I could kill you...” Bucky repeats so shaken.
 “You wouldn’t.” You’ve never been more sure in your life.
 “How do you know that? I almost killed everyone...”
 “You didn’t kill Steve.”
Bucky gets closer again, shocked by how calmly you talk about his worst nightmare. “I can't risk that. I cannot risk your life.”
 “So you would rather leave me alone and heartbroken.”
 “Yes.” His answer comes instantly. “If you're alive, that's-”
 “And go back to sleeping on the ground!”
“It's not like I sleep much anyway.” The way he says it... like it's not a big deal at all amazes you.
“You know what bothers me about all of this? Something I didn’t think you would do...”
“What?”
“You took my choice away.”
Bucky is shaking when he hears you, completely taken aback.
 “Instead of telling me about all the risks, you decided on your own. I would never do that to you.”
“I dreamed about this. I... I saw you,” he pauses. “I was choking you."
 “Not something you didn’t do before.” Your response comes instantly, without much thinking because the tension is killing you and you want to lighten the mood a little. “Choking, I mean.”
And he smiles. You make him smile and it feels like you won the lottery. “You quite liked that.”
“You did, too.”
“I did, you were very pretty.”
“You know that’s not what I meant.”
Bucky sighs, not knowing what to say. “I'm sorry for putting you through all of this.”
“There’s something else you should also apologize about.”
“What?”
“For taking my choice away...”
“I am sorry for that,” he says instantly. “But I don't regret it. I made the right choice.”
“If you don’t regret it, we don’t have anything to talk about. I don’t need your sorry.” If he doesn’t regret it, what’s the point of this conversation?
“Your life is worth everything to me." His voice is so soft as he speaks.
“I understand that, but it doesn’t make it any better.”
“I am sorry for not telling you." He keeps apologizing.
“You don’t regret it, though. So… I don’t know where to go from here. Maybe I should go.”
He tries to hide his disappointment. He's being unfair and he knows it. “If that is what you want... let me grab the hamlets and I can give you a ride.”
“I don’t need a ride.” You don’t want to be that close to him on his motorcycle. You can handle yourself. You wish things were different, that he had told you the truth. You would have to make him see things from your perspective, but he didn’t share anything with you. He pushed you away completely.
“No fucking way.” Bucky shakes his head. “You should know this by now.”
“You’re not my boyfriend anymore so you don’t have a say.”
“No,” he simply responds.
“The sooner you accept that you have no say in my life anymore the better.” He can’t keep acting like he’s a part of your life. You understand his fear, his good intentions, but he refuses to see the whole picture. You’re not safe either way and he still protects you. He could have done it and still be by your side.
Bucky comes even closer to you. “It's not safe. Did you not hear me until now?”
“So dropping me off is somehow safer? Do you ever hear yourself? You told me you left me because my life was in danger and you don’t regret breaking my heart. And now you wanna drop me home and make me a target again? Is sleeping on the ground killing your brain cells too?”
“I have a fucking metal arm.” He raises his left arm. “I didn't mean just Hydra's dumb men. I mean normal dumb men too.”
“I did not forget that you have a metal arm, but you did since you broke up with me. And you apparently also forgot that I can handle dumb men all by myself. You chose this! You had your reasons, I get it, but you can’t just come back whenever you feel like it, okay? You can’t go all passive-aggressive like you did to Steve because I am on a date. You can’t offer to drop me off. If you’d decided to get out of my life, stand by that choice. Since you don’t regret it, it shouldn’t be that hard.” With every sentence, your anger is rising. You don’t realize you say the words like you’re spitting them out.
“I did not mean it like that.” He ignores the comment about how you can handle yourself because there are limits to that. “I regret not being with you, deciding that for you if that's what you mean, but I don't regret making this choice for your own good. And you would have gotten bored of me anyway. I have too much baggage, too. You shouldn't have to deal with this shit."
You shake your head, absolutely crushed by his words. How can he think he’s so hard to love? How can he… “If lying to yourself helps with sleeping at night, go for it, but that’s not the truth.”
Bucky sits down on the couch. “You cannot deny I am right.” He sighs. “Let me call you an Uber at least.”
“You want me to lie and I can’t do that, Bucky. You were the love of my life. I would never get bored of you.” You don’t know why you are saying all this. You thought and think about him constantly. He wasn’t just your boyfriend, he became your best friend.
You can see the surprise and happiness all over his face right away. He's glowing.
“You were mine, too, I hope you know that.”
“I didn’t. Not until now.” You bite your lip, trying to hold back your tears. It’s just so hard.
“I wish things could be different, but I promise I'll keep protecting you.”
That makes something inside you snap. “It could’ve been different! But you chose this!” Your anger is suddenly pouring out. “I don’t want your protection. You are either in my life or out of it. There’s no in-between. Do you understand me?”
“No.”
“God, I hate you so much! I hate how stubborn and stupid you are! I hate that you never listen to me! I fucking hate how you make me feel!”
Bucky stands up. “Do you think this is easy for me? Do you think I don't want to talk and hold you and make love to you? Do you think it's easy, huh? No! But someone has to make these decisions! I won’t let you die because you're stubborn.” He's so red and angry. “I am not worth it.”
 “For fuck’s sake! I’ve had enough of this, okay? One second you tell me you have to stay away and another that you wanna make love to me. You treat me like shit and then kiss me! Why do you do that, huh? Why?” You don’t wait for a response, letting out everything you have been holding in. “I don’t fucking care if it’s easy or not. You know why? It wasn’t my decision. YOU DIDN’T LET ME CHOOSE YOU. So if you are suffering that’s on you, pal. My suffering is on you, too. Now get out of my way. I wanna go home.” You try to breathe and control your anger again, but it feels impossible.
“What do you want me to do? Risk your life?”
“I want you to get out of my way and stay away from me. I’m done with talking, arguing, and crying.”
“You won't see me.” He looks away as he promises you that, and you feel like crying more than ever. That's it? “But you have to promise me you won't see the others.”
“The others?”
“Natasha, Steve, Sam. We are all the problem.”
“Oh, hell no. Fuck no! No!” You point your finger at him, angrily. “You don’t get to decide shit anymore. Especially not about my life. You are done with making choices for me!”
“Did you not hear what I told you tonight? They should know better. I will have a discussion with them about it too. They are so stupid-"
“I don’t fucking care. Should I spell it out for you? Would that make it easier for you to understand? I DON’T FUCKING CARE! You don’t want to be in my life, fine. Your decision, but them… I’m not giving up on anyone.”
“Why are you so fucking stubborn? We are talking about death and life.”
“I made that choice the day we met, okay? When you fucking saved me. I’m way passed that point. They are my friends, too, and they will stay that way. This conversation is over.”
“I'll call you an Uber.” He murmurs, knowing continuing this would not a wise decision. He expected more from Steve at least. He knew how dangerous this is. At least Sam and Natasha seemed to understand.
You’re surprised when you see him suddenly giving you a funny look. “What?”
“I can't believe you really thought I could be with Natasha like that.”
Of course this would come and bite you in the ass!
 “I always thought you two would be a good match.” That was always on the back of your mind, thinking if they gave it a chance it would work amazingly. She is beautiful, powerful, lethal… and Bucky deserves the best. Seeing them together double hurt.
He gasps as if he can’t believe this. “What?”
“Why are you so surprised?”
“We were together and you thought I could ever replace you with her?” He sounds hurt and confused at the same time.
 “Yeah. I was sure that would happen one day.”
He stares at you completely blank for a while and you don't know what he's thinking. You were honest.
“And you say I gave up on us? You thought I am gonna-”
“It doesn’t matter, Bucky, okay?”
It does, actually, very much, but you’re so tired and hurt and simply without energy.
“Fuck it.”
You don't expect him to take you by the back of your neck and kiss you, surprising you for the second time on the same night. You don’t understand why this set him off or what he’s trying to do. All you can think of is how much you missed this.
He whimpers when he realizes you don't reject him and licks your bottom lip.
You wanna cry. You wanna hit him. You wanna push him away, but you also want to keep kissing him. You hate how conflicted you are feeling.
He closes his eyes, letting you go. “I don't know why I...”
You know how that sentence would end. You don’t need to hear it. He doesn’t know why he can’t stay away from you.
“So you are really that dumb.”
He stares at your lips. “Fuck, maybe I am.”
 “You definitely are, but I am dumber.”
You grab him by the collar and kiss him again. He doesn't hesitate to open his mouth and let your tongue find his, his hands grabbing your ass and bringing you so close that you feel his hard-on.
“Fuck.”
Everything feels overwhelmingly familiar and you missed this so much. You missed his lips, his taste, his touch, his smell… You grab his face with both of your hands and kiss him however you want, however you need.
“No one can replace you, alright?”
“Then what is the point of all this?” His face is still between your hands. “You want us to live in agony for the rest of our lives?”
“I just want to keep you safe, baby.” He kisses your palms. “I really don't want to risk your life. I couldn't survive!” He's haunted by that image of you dying, him killing you… He wouldn't be able to move on with his life.
“But I don’t wanna live like this.”
“How do you want to live?” He finally asks.
“I wanna be with you, Bucky, but you don’t let me. You don’t let me have you. You don’t let me move on. How am I supposed to live like this?”
 “You want someone else?”
 Seriously?
“I said all of those things and that’s what you heard?”
“I heard you, but it's all a mess. I am a mess. I would understand.” His tone is ice cold. He's so frustrating.
You grab his face with one of your hands again and force him to look you in the eye. “Would you really understand?” You question because you are damn sure he wouldn’t. “You would rather have me forgetting all about you and moving on than being with me?”
He seems to think intensely for a couple of seconds, contemplating, imagining different scenarios. You can feel his jaw clenching and you bite your lip.
“You know there is no turning back then, right?”
You don’t understand what he means. “Turning back from what?”
He kisses you as if that is the only answer he can give you. And kisses you. And kisses you until you feel the salty taste of his tears.
Your heart breaks seeing him like this. So vulnerable and tormented. You break the kiss, look at his face, and you feel yourself tearing up.
 “You're so fucking stubborn, baby.”
 “So are you.”
Bucky smiles, kissing away a few tears on your cheeks. “Can I have you?”
“You gotta work for that.”
That doesn’t seem to deter him. “Yeah? Good, I love working.”
“Yeah? Because it’s not gonna be easy.”
Bucky smiles sadly. “When do I like it easy?”
“I mean it, Bucky. You have to earn my trust back.”
He takes a step back. “And I mean it, I'm here to prove that. I know what a hard and long process it is, and I would never leave you alone again unless you are tired of me. I will protect you with my life, I promise.”
You can’t believe the switch he made. Finally!
“Good. Now come and kiss me because I missed you.” You finally admit it out loud. He’s being vulnerable, so can you, but he hesitates a little.
There’s something in his eyes, maybe it’s the willingness to do anything to earn your trust back, including holding back and waiting, but you don’t want to wait.
“I said gaining my trust will take time. I didn’t say I wanna wait, Bucky.”
“What's the difference?” He’s reluctant, not wanting to make another mistake.
“The difference is I am horny.” It’s been too long. You can’t hold back anymore.
A playful smirk takes all over his face as he comes closer to you. “Are you now? And what can I do about it?”
“I don’t know. What can you do?” You dare him like you don’t know all the things he can do.
“Depends.” His hands grab your neck softly.
“On what?” It’s astonishing how easy it is to fall back into habits.
“On the limits you want to set.”
“You know my limits.”
He looks at you surprised. “But do you trust me with this?”
“My trust issues aren’t over this, and you know it.” He always knew when and where to stop. Never made you feel unsafe. Your only problems are the way he left you and how his actions hurt you.
“Intimacy means a lot of trust,” he says but brings his hands down to your shirt anyway.
 “I know. If you didn’t turn into someone else during the time we were apart, I trust you with this.”
“I don't have protection.”
You give him a look. “If you don’t wanna do it that’s fine.”
He snorts, literally ripping your shirt in half, buttons flying everywhere. “Yeah, I totally don't.”
His actions don’t surprise you. You are used to him ripping your clothes. You just look at your teared-away shirt, amused.
“Sounded like many excuses to me.”
“Do you not see my fucking erection?”
You look down, smiling. “Oh, I do see it.” It’s not something you can ignore.
“You lied to me,” he says in a low voice, taking off your bra in a couple of seconds using his flesh hand.
“About what?”
“About Steve. You wanted to drive me crazy.”
“I didn’t say anything about Steve.”
Bucky raises his eyes from your boobs to your face. “You let me think you are dating him.”
“You assumed I was dating him because we were out together and he was trying my favorite cocktail.” You start to unbuckle his belt, incapable to wait any longer. You missed him and his cock so much you are aching. “Take off your shirt.”
Bucky groans in annoyance. “Don't remind me. You made it for him.” He sounds like a jealous kid. “Take it off yourself.”
 “Yeah, I was gonna make it for Nat, too.” You finally unbutton his pants and push them down without paying much attention.
Bucky laughs, tilting his head.
“What is so funny?”
He takes off his shirt. “Your voice is getting higher when you're angry.”
“And?” You raise an eyebrow, challenging him to continue.
“Did Nat piss you off or something?” He unbuttons your pants, too, as he asks.
“You piss me off.”
Bucky smiles. “You tend to say that a lot. Nat doesn't think that.”
“What does she think?”
He pulls down your panties and you're surprised a little. You expected him to rip them.
“I guess I don't piss her off.”
You grab his face and make him look at you. “I bet you are on your best behavior around her.”
Bucky bites his lip. “Maybe I am.”
“Now who is lying?” You grip a little harder.
“I don't know, doll. Who is lying?” He moans.
“You enjoy it, don’t you? Seeing me like this? Getting me all worked up?”
You feel his hands on your hips all of a sudden. “You're getting flushed when you're worked up. So beautiful.” He leans in, trying to kiss you, but you don’t let him. You push him back. “Couch or bed?”
“Couch, it's closer unless you want the bed.”
“If you fucked anyone on that couch, I’m not even going close to it.” You look at him in the eye while saying that. It makes your skin crawl.
He grabs your face. “If you think I did this, maybe we shouldn't do anything.”
“What? We weren’t together.”
“I see.” His voice is so low that you barely catch it. What you said goes both ways.
“Don’t go all grumpy and jealous again. I didn’t fuck anyone.”
He puffs relieved. “I'm not grumpy.” He kisses you desperately, though, lifting you at the same time until you wrap your legs around him, and carries you to the couch.
He sits down and his hands drop to his sides, letting you find a good position on his lap.
You push him on his back while trying to make yourself comfortable. “Lay down.”
 “I can't reach your tits from there.”
“Just lay down. You are gonna like this.”
He leaves a kiss on both of your breasts before doing what you said, waiting eagerly. You move closer and closer under your pussy is right above his face. He doesn't say anything, and quickly pulls you completely down as if you'd have changed your mind any second if he hadn't done it. You lose your balance for a second but quickly grab the arm of the chair for support.
His tongue is everywhere for a while before stopping on your clit directly. He teases you, though, licking around it, and you can't stand it. You move your hips, trying to get his tongue right where you need it, and he chuckles, sending small vibrations to your clit.
“Just stop teasing me,” you say impatiently. There’s no time for games.
You don't understand what he murmurs, but you feel his tongue finally on your clit at the same time he gets a finger inside you. That gets a loud moan out of you.
“It wasn’t that hard, was it?” You complain while he pumps his finger in and out.
You feel Bucky's vibranium hand making its way to your chest, and you gasp at the cold touch right on your nipple.
 “You always find a way to do what you want to do.” But you aren’t complaining. It feels really good.
He adds a second finger inside you just when you finish your sentence.
“Oh, fuck you!” You say after moaning loudly. He’s definitely doing this on purpose.
He doesn't hesitate to move his fingers in a fast pace, opposite to the way he is using his tongue, which you know he does on purpose. Old habits...
“Just lick it properly if you don’t want me to torture you later.”
He pinches your nipple in response.
“Just stick your tongue out.” You move yourself a little bit away from his mouth.
He opens his eyes instantly and frowns. “What are you doing?”
 “Taking matters into my own hands.”
His eyes glow and he immediately opens his mouth, sticking his tongue out eagerly. Then you grab his hair and lower yourself onto his mouth, gently riding it.
Bucky moans, keeping his tongue as flat as he can. He can literally die like this and he'd be the happiest man on earth.
You slowly pick up your pace, listening to your body and the need to come grows when he moans just because you tug on his hair a little harder.
His fingers start to move again, surprising you since you're the one riding his face.
It makes your knees shake; it becomes harder to move for a second.
“Oh fuck.” You curse loudly. “I’m gonna- come.”
He whimpers in approval and adds a third finger out of nowhere. You can’t say anything. The only thing you can do is moan while riding his tongue. Bucky keeps the same pace, squeezing your breast at some point until you finish all dizzy.
You take deep breaths, still holding onto the arm of the couch. Then he grabs your hips, lifts you up and you find yourself on your back. You yelp because of his sudden move. He kisses you before you can say anything and spreads your legs at the same time. You feel the wet tip of his cock right at your entrance and you moan, giving him access to deepen the kiss while raising your hips slightly so you can feel more of him.
“That was so good. I missed you so much.”
You stare at his wet chin and cheeks and smile. Your face is now wet, too, but you don't care as you kiss him again. You kiss him until you feel breathless. Then you look at him, still high from your orgasm.
“I think I should’ve been the one to say that.”
“I missed you so much.” He repeats as he pushes inside you,
“Oh fuck.” It feels so good, even better than you remembered. “I missed you, too!” You sound breathless.
“I fucked my fist a thousand times thinking about you.” Hearing that turns you on even more.
“Yeah?” So you weren’t alone because you thought about him. Only him. “I imagined my dildo was your cock like a thousand times, too.”
Bucky's thrusts are finally getting faster. “Yeah? Was it good?”
“Some great some underwhelming orgasms. Yours?” You wanna know so badly.
“Nothing can compare to your pussy.”
“Not even another pussy?” You want to push him, so you don’t hold back your question.
He grabs your face. “I'm inside yours right now and you wanna talk about other women?”
“You know what I want to hear.” And it’s definitely not other women.
Bucky's eyes soften a little as he kisses your nose. “I haven't been with anyone else. And no pussy can compare to yours. No one can compare to you, stubborn little baby.”
You don’t feel any shame when a loud moan escapes your lips. That’s exactly what you wanted to hear.
“Harder?”
“Whatever you want.” It’s like your mind suddenly switched off.
Bucky brings his vibranium hand to your mouth. “Suck then.”
You don’t say anything, you just wrap your lips around his finger and start sucking.
“Good girl.” He starts thrusting a little harder, enjoying the way you look so out of your mind. “My good girl, taking my cock so well. Did you miss it so much?”
You wanna say something, but your mouth is occupied. So you moan instead.
“A fucking sight.” He groans, taking his thumb out of your mouth despite your protests. “Never letting you go.”
“Oh, you finally made up your mind,” you say in a mocking tone.
“Gonna choke you with my cock next and we'll… fuck! see if you'll mock me then, too.”
“You can choke me now, you know.”
Bucky brings his flesh hand to your neck instantly and you frown. As much as you enjoy him finally slowly returning to his own habits, he's still being careful.
“Really?” Your eyebrow raises automatically.
“What?”
“If you’re gonna hold back, maybe we shouldn’t do this.”
He sighs. “It's been a while, I don't want to hurt you.”
“Can you even hurt me?”
Bucky stops mid-thrust and raises his eyebrow. “What?”
“I think you might be getting old. Or maybe the serum is wearing off.”
You didn't expect him to bite it so quickly, but he does, grabbing your thighs and finally fucking you harder. “Gonna make you scream.”
“You are definitely getting old.,” you say half breathless.
“I won't make you bleed, baby. We can go harder than this after you get used to having sex with me constantly again.”
“I meant your memory.” He’s going really fast and it makes it harder to speak. “You forgot what I asked for.”
“Want me to choke you?” He moans, realizing what you mean. “Beg for it.”
“Just choke me, old man.”
He says something, but you don't understand what, and when you feel the cold metal on your neck, you don't even care. You close your eyes in pleasure.
“Like this? Is this what you want?”
“Yeah.” The words barely leave your lips. It feels amazing.
“No dildo can replace my cock, can it?”
“No.” You shake your head. “Nothing can.”
“No other man, either, right?” You feel his wet kiss on your neck. “No other super soldier. Not Steve.”
“Steve?” You can’t believe he’s actually asking this. Is he that jealous?
“No one else.”
You grab him by the hair and force him to look at you while you speak. “I don’t want anyone else. Do you hear me?”
Bucky smiles. “I don't hear you. Can you repeat it?”
“You bastard!” You smack his chest with a big smile.
“Bastard?” Bucky laughs, slowing his thrusts.
“Old bastard.” You laugh with him.
“Fuck, I'm gonna make your ass red.”
“Make me come first,” you say in a challenging tone.
He squeezes the sides of your neck a little harder than before and the pressure makes you dizzy in the best way. “You're so wet for me. So fucking wet and perfect for my cock.”
Your mouth opens but nothing comes out. No words, not even moan. Bucky smiles when he feels your whole body trembling and a few of his hair strands fall all over his face. His flesh hand goes to your clit, circling it a couple of times in the middle of your orgasm.
“Oh my fucking god…” You murmur. It’s like your whole body is electrocuted.
“Can you take my come, baby?” He asks squeezing your neck a little more. “Gonna give it to you. Gonna...”
“Yes, please.” It is like a whisper, but you know he can hear you. “Please.”
That's all it takes for him to come. And come. And come. A lot, you can feel it filling you and probably dripping out on the couch because there's so much come. You kiss his forehead and hair, anything you can, still feeling out of this world. It's like you could fly.
You missed this... Feeling like being one with him. Sharing this high. It feels you with all kinds of emotions.
“God, I missed this.”.
“Of course you did.” You giggle.
“Did you not?” He fishes once again before bringing his head to your boobs and licking all over them.
“Fuckkk.” Your laugh turns into moaning. You want to push your breasts more into his mouth. “You have no idea how much I missed you.”
He sucks your right nipple in return. “Ihm.”
“If you keep sucking it I might come again.”
Bucky sucks even more, bringing his vibranium to your other breast.
“Move your hand on my clit,” you say after moaning loudly.
He does it quickly, making sure to tickle you before finally touching your clit. You giggle first, then moan when you feel his mouth sucking on your nipple while his fingers work on your clit. You close your eyes and let yourself enjoy this double stimulation.
“So soft.” You can barely understand what he says while still sucking. You take a sharp breath when your legs start to tremble. He's enjoying every single whimper of yours as he keeps moving his mouth and hand at the same time.
You love hearing the sounds he makes while sucking on your nipple. You run your hands through his hair and enjoy your high to the fullest until it feels too much. You grab his hair and move his mouth away from you.
“That’s… that’s… enough.”
“Why?” He sounds like a little kid.
“I’m… sensitive.”
Bucky takes his mouth off immediately with a pop and kisses you as an apology. You tremble under his touch once again, sighing right after it.
“I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay.” It’s obvious that you don’t mind. You sound content and satisfied.
He completely gets out of you too while licking his finger. “Gonna get you a towel and a glass of water. And a blanket.”
“Why a blanket?” You look at him confused while Bucky stands up hesitatingly
“For you...”
“Did you sell your bed or something? Are we sleeping here?” You joke.
“I was gonna make you some fries...”
“Fries?” You straighten up a little, surprised.
“Yep. I think I have some pickles, too.”
“Okay.” A warm smile spreads on your face. This is the Bucky you remember. He smiles, too, and goes to the bathroom probably, but you hear his chuckle anyway.
*
“Come on, one more.” You try to force the fry inside his mouth, but he's a stubborn man.
“They are for you, baby. Eat!”
“If they are for me, I decide what happens to them and I want you to eat one more.”
Bucky rolls his eyes but takes the fry anyway. “Happy?”
“Very.” You take another fry and start chewing. “You know we should talk, right?”
“Well aware, yes.”
“Are we gonna or…” You’re hesitant because it feels good to be like this with Bucky after a long time, but you also know you should be talking and sorting things out.
“I was waiting for you to start.”
“The problem is I don’t know what to say.” Or where to begin. You feel like you’ve already said everything. Or better yet, you screamed it to his face.
“What do you want to know?”
“Are we trying again or are you gonna say this was a mistake?” It’s at the back of your mind. The fear of him leaving again…
“This could never be a mistake, love. I was simply trying to protect you the best way I knew. I will protect you.” He sounds genuine, but it doesn’t change how you feel.
“If you leave me again, it doesn’t matter why, you won’t have another chance.” Your tone is more serious than before. You want him to understand this. You can’t keep playing this back-and-forth game over and over again. You don’t believe in second chances, but this is an exception. The only exception you are ever willing to make because you understand his intentions, how his mind works, how his trauma still hits him. Dealing with Hydra again is a scary thing. You can’t imagine how he felt when he found out.
He looks at you so proud. “I know. I am lucky I got another chance in the first place. I am not even worth it.”
“Stop with the self-degrading talk, will you? I can’t stand it.” You always hated the way he talked about himself. He’s worth everything.
“But it's the truth.”
“I can’t believe you went back where you started the moment you left me. The self-degrading talk, sleeping on the floor…” It bothers you so much, like it’s somehow your fault, but you know it isn’t.
Bucky closes his eyes. He's not proud of it, but there is nothing he could have done to control it. “I am a lost case, I know.”
“Bucky,” you say in a surprisingly firm tone, and he opens his eyes back. “You’re worth everything, but you gotta believe it yourself first. I can’t magically make you see how wonderful you are. I don’t have that kind of power.”
 “Sometimes I feel it, but sometimes... there are some really hard days, you know?” He sighs. “The past I had, my Winter Soldier past, too, the mess... it's hard to believe I deserve some kind of peace, but I'm trying.”
You know he is.
“You are a wonderful person, especially when you are not an asshole who thinks he knows the best for everyone.”
“I'm a super soldier, remember? I'm used to making these kinds of decisions.” He gives you a small guilty smile.
“You know what soldiers are meant to do right?” You quickly continue without waiting for an answer. “It’s definitely not making decisions.”
“No?”
“No. Good soldiers follow orders.”
He smiles. “I'm a bad one, don't you know? The worst soldier.”
“Until further notice you are not allowed to make decisions.”
“It's not that simple.”
“No, it’s pretty simple. Don’t tire that beautiful head of yours. It’s not meant to make decisions anyway.” You try to sound like a 40s husband on purpose.
Bucky's head snaps to you. “You sound like my grandfather.”
“So you are familiar how this works.” You finally give him a smile.
“I'm gonna take care of you. No one will hurt you.” He still doesn’t get it, so you decide to explain.
“You will do whatever I say until I trust you to make your own decisions.” Your voice is firm. You don’t like it, to be honest, because you know this is super hard, especially for someone like him... giving away the control knowing everything he's been through, but what choice do you have?
Bucky frowns. “What does that mean?”
“It means if you want me back, you will let me decide on things for a while. You took my choice away and made us both suffer. Letting me decide is how you earn my trust back.”
His stomach aches. “I don't feel... what does that mean? There are many things, I can't just...”
You can see the panic so clearly and you realize how this must have sounded. “Calm down, Bucky. I don’t mean everything. Just things about our relationship.”
“Your safety is off the table,” he says without hesitation, and you’re surprised he doesn’t protest about something else. “You can decide on everything else.”
“Nope. That’s what got us here.” You sound calm.
“You don't understand the level of the danger.” His voice is trembling. “Everything but your safety.”
“You fucking left me over this, Bucky!” You raise your voice a little because what if he finds another Hydra member and tries to leave you again? “How can I trust you and accept this? How can I know you won’t do it again and say it is for my safety?”
“Conditions. Name them all, I am up for it, but I cannot play around with this. I couldn’t sleep for weeks because of it. Please... I need to be in control just in this aspect. I need to protect you.”
You think for a second. “You talk to me first. That’s the condition.”
Bucky leans in and steals your fry, agreeing happily immediately. “Done.”
“And you need to respect my decisions. Even if you don’t like them. I don’t like yours all the time, but…”
“When did I not respect your decisions? I think you are very bright and rational, usually.”
“When you didn’t even ask me and took a decision for me.” You look into his eyes daringly.
“Would you have stayed away from me? And I said usually.”
“I wouldn’t and it would be my decision.” He can’t use this against you.
“Why?”
“I could hide, I could act like we aren’t together, I could act like I hate you, but I can’t stay away.”
“We could never act.” He kisses your forehead.
“Fine. We could only see each other in secret then.” That was another possibility.
He smiles like what you said reminds him of something. “When can we have a date?”
“Tomorrow?”
“I hope you won't change your mind.” He grabs your head and you squeeze it.
“I won’t ever change my mind about you.”
You kiss him before placing the plate on the coffee table and resting your head on his chest where it feels like home.
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ihopeiexplode · 4 months
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📱 “confessions” [←Previous | Next→]
It's been weeks. No matter how hard he tries to make up for what he said nothing's changing it's frustrating him so much. Why won't you go back to how you used to be whenever you two hung out? Did his words affect you that much?
Not only that, whenever you two are together your always silent, you always talk about something whether it be about your day, your interests, or anything that comes into your mind, but now whenever you two hang out you barely speak to one another
He hates it. He misses hearing your voice, he misses hearing your laugh, he misses spending time with you like how you used to before
He's tired. He wants to know what's bothering you that much. But he knows you won't say anything.
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Once you reached there you slowly approached Sukuna feeling skeptical, why would he want you here for no explanation whatsoever?
As you stood in front of him you could notice he felt irritated and pissed
"so what do you need?"
"what does Yuji have that I don't?"
"what?"
"how come you hang out with him more than me? You are supposed to hang out with me, not him. He's not your partner for this project i am"
"so how come you spend more time with him instead of me? Not to mention you're always laughing and smiling whenever you two hang out."
After he said that you'd sigh before running your hand through your hair before staring back at him with a obvious scowl on your face
"does it really matter if we don't spend that much time with each other? Like you said we don't have to necessarily befriend each other for this project, it's useless if I end up mistaking our relationship for friends because as you said, you'll just stop talking to me and we'll be back to how we were after this is over"
"so tell me Sukuna, why does it bother you so much that I'm treating you differently than how I used to?"
With that, he just clenched his fist before stepping closer to you
"Isn't it fucking obvious that I like you y/n? Are you this oblivious? I liked you for years, since middle school to be exact, do you really think I'd make such an effort to plan hangouts you like if I hated you? I did all of this just so we could end on good terms so at least I'd have a slight chance to be with you."
"I said all of that stuff back then only because I didn't know how to Express my feelings. I know no matter how hard I'll try you'll never love me back, I know no matter how hard I chase after you, you won't ever look my way."
"I know no matter how hard I fucking try to move on I can't. No matter how hard I try to tell myself I don't like you I know deep down I do."
After he finished his little rant he stepped back before realizing he said more than he should've. Then he looked at you only to see your eyes widening
"you can't be serious right?"
"I am."
"..."
[⛩️] @: Likes & Reblogs R appreciated! ^^
A/N: short part ik 💥💥🔥‼️ I also realized how I'm almost done with those series should I make another one when I'm finished w denial
Taglist: @catobsessedlady @hellomeow12 @0-candlecove-0 @shivzypuff @swirlingcurses @1-800-choke-that-ho @attackonnat @chilichopsticks @getoxmahito @memenojutsu @uhnanix @ichorstainedskin @needtoloveoutloud @love-me-satoru @s-j320 @allthestarsarecloserrrrrrr @goj0sunglasses @svtvrnal @haitanibros0007 @punkhazardlaw @mslydiaa @jayathelostdragon @caileysdead @rixyaaaa @minzxec @rzcnlb
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viranellee · 1 year
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i know our mornings (were as good as it ever could be)
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synopsis: eddie thinks he's doing a pretty good job at hiding his relationship with the youngest dunne sister. until he isn't.
warnings: smut, dirty talk, usage of alcohol & drugs, billy dunne
a/n: thank you so much for the love on the previous eddie post! this is shit but it's eddie smut and that's all that matters
⁠♡
It all happens so fast you think you’ve imagined it - one minute you’re snorting your (fourth, maybe fifth) line of coke and reaching for another glass of beer, and the next you’re being pulled by your hand until you can breathe in the fresh evening air through your slightly powdery nostrils. You’re still looking down at your feet, hands outstretched and trying to regain your balance, which is a surprisingly hard thing to do using a coked-up brain, when the mystery assailant, probably Billy, starts speaking. You sigh and brace yourself for yet another lecture.
“The fuck do you think you’re doing?”
Welp, that’s definitely not Billy. You don’t know if you should be happy about it or not.
You look up and meet Eddie’s eyes, his eyebrows so furrowed that the annoyed wrinkle between them is especially pronounced - you want to reach out and smooth it out with your fingers, you want to tell him that as hot as he looks when he’s pissed off, he shouldn’t be getting wrinkles this early on. You don’t do any of that.
“What does it look like I’m doing?” You respond instead, putting a hand on your hip with such force that you make yourself stumble a little bit. In the blink of an eye, Eddie is holding you by the waist, concerned, and you pray to every single entity out there to just make the goddamn sequin dress separating your bodies disappear into thin air, simply to feel his large hands against your skin. “I’m having fun.”
Eddie lets out an exasperated sigh and tilts your head upward, cleaning up the cocaine residue around your nose. A part of you finds it weirdly cute.
“Too much fun.” He tells you and you shake your head.
“I’ve seen you do, like, six lines one after another. You can’t just lecture me when you do the exact same thi-”
“That’s because I’m used to it, I can handle it.” Eddie interrupts, grabbing you by the chin gently. He’s looking at you right in the eyes, wanting to drive his point home, but all you can focus on is his lips. “You could barely handle a shot of whiskey before and now you’re drinking and doing lines like you’ve done it all your life.”
You roll your eyes, although you understand what he’s trying to say.
“Eds, just leave me alone. I’m not going to die or somethin’. I’m just having fun.” You defend yourself, but the hiccups in-between your words do absolutely nothing to convince the man in front of you.
In fact, something flashes in his eyes. It’s a look you see rarely, but one you recognize as the look he gets when he sets his mind to something. You don’t get to dwell too much on it, because he’s crouching and picking you up, and before you know it, you’re thrown over his shoulder with such ease it makes something at the bottom of your stomach flutter.
“Eddie, put me down, now! What are you doing!?” You protest and hit his back with your fists as hard as you can, waving your legs in the air. He doesn’t even flinch and instead places a hand on your calf and squeezes, a gesture you can only interpret as “calm the fuck down” - and something in you listens, despite the drugs and liquors in your system screaming at you to keep acting bratty.
You vaguely recognize Warren’s wolf-whistling at the pair of you, but you don’t pay him any attention - by the time he’s asked for your room key at the reception desk in that deep voice that drives you crazy and you’re in the luxurious elevator, you’re already half-asleep but still have enough leftover energy to complain.
"Can you put me down now? You’ve proved your point.”
In response, Eddie’s hand moves higher up your leg, slipping underneath your dress. You can feel yourself blushing as he starts drawing circles on your inner thigh.
“Hm, I really don’t think I have, sweetheart.” He tells you and you want to strangle him for knowing exactly what buttons to push to make you speechless.
The rest of the elevator ride is spent in torturous silence, as he absentmindedly drags his fingers across your skin and you stubbornly hold in your whimpers and gasps, because you’d rather die on the spot than have him know how sensitive his touch makes you.
Only he can make me feel like this, you think to yourself in a striking moment of clarity.
After what feels like an eternity, you finally arrive at your floor. Eddie confidently walks towards your room and opens it - as soon as the door closes, he strides over to the bed and gently drops you onto it. You’re looking at the ceiling, thinking about nothing and everything at the same time, as he removes your heels. When he stands up and kisses your forehead, ready to leave so you could get some sleep, you grab him by the collar.
Sleep is the last thing on your mind right now.
You kiss him hard, and he responds immediately - you feel his heart thumping when your chests press against each other, and you’re pretty sure he can feel yours too. He moans into your mouth when you tug on his hair and you feel like you’re on the brink of getting what you want - except, he pulls away from you. You look at him, confused, and when you reach out to try and bring his face towards you, he grabs your wrists in one hand.
“You’re drunk, sweetheart. We can’t.” He explains and you want to cry. Why did he have to be so thoughtful?
“But I want you.” You try and he just smiles at you, wide and toothy, as he stands up. You catch his hand. “Can you…can you at least sleep next to me? We don’t have to do anything, I just..."
He turns to look at you and you see surprise painted across his features. You open your mouth to take it back, tell him you don’t know what you’re talking about, play it off as the drugs talking, but he’s already dropping his jacket on the ground and getting into bed with you before you get the chance to say anything.
He opens his arms, inviting you to come closer and you gladly take the invitation.
"You're cold." You tell him when you lay your head on his chest and feel him wrapping his arms around you. He smells like cigarettes and citrus. It’s your favorite smell in the world.
“You’re hot.” He responds, grinning as he kisses the top of your head, and you giggle.
It’s the last thing you remember before you fall asleep.
You wake up horny. Not unusual by any means, considering you fell asleep horny and next to Eddie. Still, you know you can't ignore it for long.
As your eyes adjust to the sunlight pouring in through the windows, you feel Eddie, still asleep, wrapping a long arm around your waist and pulling you towards his chest. His gentle hums do nothing except fuel the growing need in you to have him. You decide to do just that.
Careful not to wake him, you slowly move down his body and when you reach the part you're craving the most, you greedily undo his belt like you're opening a Christmas present. You pull his jeans and boxers down at the same time, impatient, and immediately get to work.
You run your tongue from the tip to the base, savoring the shiver you receive in response. You do that a couple of times but as soon as you take him in your mouth, Eddie gasps and you know you've woken him up, because you feel a hand in your hair.
"Shit, baby, good mornin' to you too." He laughs and the rasp in his voice makes you throb.
You take him in deeper, tracing the vein in his shaft with your tongue and Eddie practically howls. Biting his lip, he buries his other hand in your hair too as the sounds of your gagging and his moaning overlap.
"I love this fucking mouth on my cock." He breathes out. "God, I can't get enough of you. Come 'ere."
You shake your head as you press open-mouthed kisses down the shaft.
"No, I want you to cum in my mouth." You declare stubbornly and he swears out loud at your words.
"I'll cum in that pretty little mouth as much as you want me to, but I need to be inside of you right now, baby, please." He almost begs and you look at him beneath your eyelashes.
He's panting heavily, his bottom lip slightly bloody because he bit it too hard, brown eyes glazed over and hair splayed out on the pillow beneath his head like a halo. He looks like a mess and it's the prettiest thing you've ever seen.
Well, how can you say no to that?
You crawl towards him and he grabs the dress you've slept in from yesterday and pushes it up your body, hastily trying to remove it. You help him and soon, the dress is a mere clothing item on the floor. Left in only your underwear, he licks his lips as his eyes look you over. If it was anyone else, you would have felt like a piece of meat being ogled at, but his look only turns you on even more.
You tug on his shirt, wanting it off, and he complies immediately.
As you climb into his lap and undo your bra, Eddie watches, mesmerized, when you start grinding on his cock like a woman starved, your tits bouncing along with every movement. In an attempt to tease him, you reach out to play with your nipples, but he smacks your hands away, shoves his face in your chest and starts worshiping your tits with such vigor you think you can cum from this alone.
"Eddie! Oh!" You mewl and he groans in response, tugging your underwear down your thighs. He rubs a finger against your folds and your head gently knocks against his when his finger glides right inside of you.
"So fuckin' warm and tight and all for me. Only for me." Eddie whispers, kissing your neck. You nod, burying your fingers in his tangled hair.
"Only for you. Always for you." You whisper in his ear and he exhales sharply, relieved, like he's being told something he never once thought would be true.
You don't even notice when one finger has become two, and two has become three in your haze of pleasure until Eddie pushes you down onto the bed, looking at you like you've hung the moon and stars. You smile at him and pull his face down to kiss him, and you can feel him chuckling against your lips. Wrapping your legs around his waist, you melt in his embrace. In response, Eddie grabs your hips, something you've noticed he really likes doing, and carefully enters you. You open your mouth in a silent scream, and he groans loudly, squeezing you so hard you're sure he'll give you yet another pair of bruises. You don't mind though, not at all.
"You okay, sweetheart?"
"Very much am, Roundtree."
---
"What did you just say?"
Warren laughs nervously, scratching the back of his neck.
"Look man, I don't fuckin' know, all I'm saying is that I saw them leaving together."
It's quiet in the breakfast hall as Billy ponders on what to do.
"I get that she's our little sister, but she's grown up now. Even if she is, y'know, sleeping with him, why should that matter? I mean, it's Eddie, do you really think he'd do anything to hurt her?" Graham argues, gesturing with the utensils in his hands as he speaks.
Daisy and Karen nod in agreement.
"He's got a point, you know. I really don't think it's that big of a deal. They've had the hots for each other for a while now, too, it's only natural." Karen adds and Billy's mouth turns into a tight line as he death glares the uneaten toast on his plate.
"Good morning everyone!" Eddie greets his band members when you and him enter, suspiciously cheerful. Billy's glare only becomes more hateful.
"Morning." He greets with gritted teeth, carefully observing the way Eddie gallantly pulls out your chair first, before sitting on his own. Everyone else around him also seems to notice, if Daisy and Karen's quiet giggles and Warren and Graham clearing their throats were any indication.
"Aren't you going to get breakfast?" Graham questions and you smile innocently back at him.
"Nope, I've already eaten." You respond and Eddie adds a "I'm very full, actually."
Awkward silence descends on the table for a moment before Roy arrives as well.
"Hey, Roundtree." He starts, an accusatory finger pointed at the bassist's neck. "What kind of vampire were you fooling around with? Jesus Christ, son, look at the size of that thing."
A beat passes as Graham chokes on his water.
"Roundtree, you fucking son of a bitch, I'll kill you."
---
BILLY DUNNE: The prick was fucking my sister behind my back. Of course I decked him.
KAREN SIRKO: And people call women the emotional ones.
WARREN ROJAS: Dude, I thought I was hallucinating, for real.
DAISY JONES: So overdramatic.
GRAHAM DUNNE: [sighs]
EDDIE ROUNDTREE: Worth it. [smiles]
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cerastes · 11 months
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FNAF but you are a Rhodes Island canteen staff on a night shift trying to prevent Ceobe from raiding the kitchen .
It's a late night at the Rhodes Island canteen, the Elite Operators have an early deployment, and supplies are looking adequate... That is, as long as no incident occurs. Unfortunately for whoever is on shift, Rhodes Island is well known for its late night incidents, incarnated in nefarious individuals whose gluttony eclipses even the most furious of Catastrophes... And the Elite OPs are not going to be happy campers if they can't get their calories for their arduous missions...
--Five Nights At Rhodes!--
Your objective is to protect the delicious ingredients in the pantry from morally bankrupt evildoers that would greedily consume all they can get their hungry little pizza fingers on! Play as one of four culinary heroes to keep those fiends away from the Elite's caloric intake, or face the crushing guilt of seeing Rosmontis go hungry with a rumbling tummy!
The Centurions of Flavor:
Gummy
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"The sign clearly says 'Ceobe not allowed', why are you still coming in!"
Known for world-class fried eggs and a healing enthusiasm, this Ursine Defender isn't just a soothing smile to have around, and can use her very own Reinforced Door to fully restore and strengthen one of the doors to the pantry! No means no!
Matterhorn
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"Ethan, seriously, you can just ask for a sandwich... You're messing our inventory of available ingredients if you take them on the down low!"
Bodyguard, enforcer, butler, and renowned chef, Matterhorn works with the finest Kjerag ingredients, and knows a thing or two about keeping unwanted company out with his Sublime Sandwich, which can temporarily distract would-be interlopers with its peerless taste and aroma!
Kal'tsit
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"If you want something done right, sometimes you have to do it yourself... Especially when the would-be crisis jeopardizes the stock of instant noodles in such dire and relentless a fashion."
The boss always has your back in Rhodes Island, and this emergency deployment is no exception! Any logistic is an important logistic! With her Spinal Assistant, Kal'tsit can order Mon3tr to hold one door while she holds the other one! There's no getting a fast one in on this Feline!
Just A Canteen Staffer
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"I literally just work here."
With no special abilities to speak of, well... It's going to be a long, long night.
Crooked Adversaries:
Ravenous Hellhound
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The nefarious nibler, infamous for her indignant disregard for signaling, reviled for her Indomitable March: What she lacks in tricks, she makes up for in pure perseverance, relentlessly trying to force her way in no matter how many times she's repelled. The countless signals that say "Ceobe Not Allowed" are said to be a ward against the Hellhound. A useless ward, that is.
Renegade Interloper
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He moves like the shadow of a ghost, a feared culinary assassin that will make your ingredients and food vanish into the misty night, leaving behind no trace. This Persistence Predator will oftentimes camp outside a door almost completely invisible, waiting for your guard to grow lax. If one pays close attention, however, one might discern small ripples in space where there should be none, or hear a faint music from the Interloper's treasured earbuds...
Prowling Miscreant
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The hunter's creed is that a mighty beast is only as strong as its weakest point, and her eye is already trained on the canteen... And the habits of its handlers. You'll be Drawing Dead the moment you think you have a leg up on the Miscreant, as she'll first observe your habits, and then continuously attempt entry from the routes you neglect the most, usually by syncing up with the advance of other Adversaries.
The Ghost of Babel
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Feared for their truly wild consumption habits and seemingly unmatched ability to find their way into the pantry, this hooded enigma's wiry, fragile frame betrays their supernatural wiles. This unique Adversary doesn't move in the same way as the others, instead wandering the Area seemingly randomly, concocting their Magnum Opus by collecting all sorts of information and intel that we can't even begin to comprehend. If this is completed, then the Ravenous Hellhound will turn into a creature only known as "Golden Ceobe" and become completely unstoppable. Due to their timid nature, however, they can only work towards the Opus by being in a calm state of mind, achieved by not being observed for a period of time.
The full game COMING SOON to all stores in Columbia, Victoria, Great Yan, not Gaul, and Leithanien! Don't miss out on all these Centurions and Adversaries! Preorder now and get a code to an early download of the DLC Centurions [Fiammetta Who Aggressively Doesn't Want To Be Here] and [Just A Canteen Staffer the Holungday], as well as early access to the challenging DLC Adversaries [Scary Guy] and [D.I.D.I.]!
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