#((reposting to join the chain)) | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

honeydippedfiction · 1 month ago

Note

I just know the first time Joe made Angel really lose it was while he had her folded in mating press. I'm talking brain mushed, pussy soaked, squirting for the first time, voice hoarse. And Joe is ferallll about it - 🐯

Navigation

Warnings: Suggestive/Spicy Scenes, (Graphic depictions of consensual sex, oral sex, squirting, mating press). MDNI🔞

WC: 3.3k

A/N: god they freaky

Join my Taglists here or message me

• you DO NOT have my permission to copy my work, upload as your own, translate, or repost on any other website •

It starts with distance.

Two weeks apart, and it might as well have been a lifetime.

Angel had flown home for a long-overdue family reunion—sun-soaked afternoons spent dodging nosy relatives, navigating folding chairs and spades games, and fielding the same question over and over again: “And where’s that boyfriend of yours, the quarterback?” Every time she answered, her smile dipped a little, heart tugging just slightly.

Joe had wanted to come. He tried. Looked at flights, rearranged his schedule twice, even called his coach hoping to work around the mandatory spring workouts and media junkets. But LSU football had its own orbit, and this time, it didn’t make room for her.

So they made do.

It became routine—midnight check-ins and grainy FaceTime calls lit by lamplight. He’d be shirtless in bed, chain glinting against his collarbone, voice low and teasing. She’d be wrapped in a silk robe, hair tied up, skin glowing from her nighttime routine, legs curled up on her childhood bed like she wasn’t slowly unraveling for him on camera.

“Tell me what you’d do if I were there,” he whispered one night, voice all gravel and heat.

Angel didn’t hesitate. She bit her lip, slid her hand slowly up her bare thigh, her voice soft but wicked. “I’d ride you, real slow. Just enough to keep you desperate.” She angled the camera downward, just enough to tease, just enough to let him ache.

Joe groaned, shifting in bed, the muscles in his arm flexing as he wrapped a hand around himself. “You tryna kill me, baby?”

“No,” she murmured, letting the strap of her robe slide off her shoulder. “Just reminding you what’s waiting for you.”

They flirted like that almost every night—pushing each other to the brink and then pulling back just enough to keep the longing sharp. It was all heat and suggestion, until both of them were left breathless, skin buzzing from a lover’s absence that was starting to feel unbearable.

By the time she flew back, something heavy and electric had built between them.

The sun was barely setting over LSU’s campus the day she returned, and spring break had turned everything into a blur of loud music and too-little clothing. Someone was throwing a courtyard party—a DJ, drinks, half the football team and more than enough bikini-clad students dancing like summer had already arrived.

Angel didn’t dress to be subtle.

She stepped into the courtyard like a storm: skin kissed by her hometown sun, bikini black and strappy, barely covering anything at all. Her curls were still damp from her shower, and her smile? Dangerous. Calculated.

She knew exactly what she was doing when she walked in.

Joe was already there, leaning against the edge of the makeshift bar with a red Solo cup in hand, sunglasses pushed up into his hair. His friends were talking, laughing, slapping each other on the back—but he wasn’t listening. Not really.

Not when he caught sight of her.

His whole body stilled, eyes locked on hers like she was the only real thing in the world. And for a second, neither of them moved—just stared, devoured. Every breath, every memory, every missed moment crashing into that one silent look.

Angel was the first to smile. She sauntered over slowly, hips swaying, the way she knew drove him crazy.

Joe watches the way her hips sway when she walks over like she owns the damn place, like she’s not the same girl who had him gasping her name through the phone just nights ago. Her skin’s glowing, her lips glossy, and her eyes say come get me then when she leans in for a hug that lingers too long.

“Hi, stranger,” she said lightly, fingers brushing his bare arm.

“Missed me?” she murmurs, mouth brushing the edge of his jaw.

“You have no idea,” he growls, already hard beneath his swim trunks.

Joe set his cup down without taking his eyes off her. “You wore that for me?”

Angel arched a brow, smirking. “Maybe. You like?”

His jaw flexed. “You’re tryna get me arrested.”

“Then take me somewhere private before you commit a felony,” she said, low and sweet, lips brushing the shell of his ear.

He didn’t need more convincing.

They stayed just long enough not to be rude. A couple drinks, some small talk, a slow dance where Joe’s hands stayed glued to her waist, fingers pressing into skin like he couldn’t believe she was real again. She laughed, leaned into him, whispered a few unholy things that made his eyes darken instantly.

And then they were gone.

Back at his apartment, the door had barely clicked shut before Joe was on her—kissing her like a man possessed, lifting her with strong hands under her thighs, her legs wrapping instinctively around his waist.

“You wore that just to fuck with me,” he growls against her neck.

“Maybe,” she breathes, nails dragging down his back. “Worked, didn’t it?”

He’s manhandling her bikini top off, walking her backward toward the bedroom as she tugs at his waistband.

“I missed you,” she gasped against his mouth.

He didn’t slow down. “Missed you too, baby. Been losing my fucking mind.”

She giggled, breath hitching as he dropped her onto the bed and peeled her bikini off like it personally offended him. “You had FaceTime.”

“Not the same,” he growled, crawling up her body, eyes drinking her in like he hadn’t seen her in years. “Couldn’t touch you. Couldn’t feel you shaking under me. Couldn't make you cum the way I need to.”

She whimpered, threading her fingers into his hair. “Then do it. Show me.”

And oh, he would.

That night wouldn’t just be sex. It would be everything—weeks of pent-up tension, all the teasing, the longing, the whispered late-night fantasies exploding into something raw, primal, and consuming.

It was the moment before the storm. The inhale before the quake.

Because Joe wasn’t just going to make love to her.

He was going to ruin her.

Σ>―🧡→

It started like it always did—the soft brush of lips against hers, the low rumble in his chest when she opened for him, the warm slide of his tongue that made her toes curl. She loved the way he kissed, like it was a slow build, like he had to savor every second, every sound, every taste. She loved that his mouth was hungry, but also patient, that he’d take his time, but still manage to make her heart race in a way she’d never felt before.

This kiss was no different—except that it was. There was a hunger in him she hadn’t experienced in a while, not since the days they were still exploring each other, when everything was new and all they wanted was to spend every second pressed together.

Angel was already breathless when he finally pulled away, but before she could complain, his mouth trailed down her jaw, to her neck, to the hollow of her collarbone, and then lower.

She arched off the bed as he licked a slow stripe up the center of her body, his hands skimming up her sides, the rough pads of his thumbs flicking over her nipples. He teased her like that, just barely touching, until she was gasping, fingers clutching at his shoulders.

“Joe—”

“Shh.” He lowered his mouth, circling one nipple with his tongue before sucking lightly. She bucked, her hips rocking against his stomach, seeking friction. He chuckled against her skin, moving to the other nipple, giving it the same treatment.

When she whined, tugging at his hair, he finally relented, kissing down her stomach, hands sliding down to her hips. He gripped her tightly, thumbs digging into the crease of her thigh, and lowered his mouth to her cunt.

His tongue slipped between her folds, and she cried out, one hand fisting the sheets, the other twisting in his hair.

“Fuck, Angel,” he murmured, licking up her slit again, parting her, drinking her in. “I’ve been dreaming about this. About how wet you get for me, how sweet you taste.”

She gasped as his tongue flicked over her clit, slow and teasing, his eyes locked on her face. He watched her, like he was memorizing every reaction, every little thing that made her shiver or moan or writhe on the bed. He swirled his tongue around her clit, then closed his lips around it, sucking lightly.

“Joe!” She jerked, her hips canting up to meet him.

He smiled against her. “So sensitive.”

“Please—”

He didn't let up, using his mouth like he was starving, like he needed to devour her whole. It was so good, so perfect, and yet—

“Need you inside me,” she gasped, tugging on his hair. “Now, please.”

He made a sound low in his throat, but obeyed, surging up her body to take her mouth in a deep, filthy kiss. She could taste herself on him, and it made her head spin, made her cunt throb.

He reached down, gripping his cock and lining himself up. She was already so wet, so ready, and when he pressed into her, she could have cried from the sheer relief of it. He stretched her so perfectly, filled her so completely, and when he was buried to the hilt, she let out a ragged breath.

He didn’t give her time to adjust, just pulled out and slammed back in, making her cry out. She wrapped her legs around him, her ankles locking at the small of his back as he pounded into her. It wasn’t like the gentle, sweet lovemaking they’d been doing before she left. No, this was pure, unadulterated fucking, and she was here for it.

“Fuck,” she moaned, meeting his thrusts, her hands gripping his shoulders. “Just like that.”

“You feel so good.” He dropped his forehead to hers, his breath hot on her lips. “Been dreaming about this pussy. Need you so much.”

“Take me,” she whispered, kissing him hard. “Make me yours.”

He groaned into her mouth, his thrusts getting harder, deeper.

She felt the coil in her belly tighten with every thrust, her breathing ragged as he fucked her just right.

“Fuck—this pussy missed me?” he groaned, eyes rolling back.

“Yes—fuck yes—” She wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him closer.

He pulled back and thrust again, harder this time, the bed creaking under them.

He found a rhythm, a pace that was relentless, deep, every thrust perfectly angled to hit that spot inside her that made her sob. One of his hands slid up to her throat, not squeezing, not choking, just holding—his thumb brushing over her jaw like he owned her.

“You like that, baby? Feel me right here?” Joe groaned, his hand pushing on her lower stomach over the bulge there.

She nodded, gasping, her eyes rolling back. “Y-yes. Fuck, harder—”

And he gave it to her.

Hips snapping into hers, the sound of skin on skin slapping off the walls, her moans growing louder, messier, more desperate. Her nails raked down his back, her thighs locked around his hips, clinging to him like she was about to fall apart.

And she was.

The coil inside her snapped, her body shaking as the orgasm tore through her. She cried out his name, her cunt clenching around his cock as he kept pounding into her, drawing out her pleasure, making her feel every ounce of it.

She was still shaking when he buried himself inside her, groaning her name against her neck as he came. She held onto him, her legs still wrapped around him, as he shuddered above her.

Angel whined as she felt Joe slip out of her, his cock still rock hard. “Baby–”

She didn’t even get the chance to finish.

He kissed her, a deep, searching kiss, before he pulled back to look at her. His eyes were dark, intense. Hungry. And then he moved down her body, kissing his way down her chest, over her stomach, to the apex of her thighs.

He hadn't even touched her yet, and her heart was already racing.

“But I'm not done with you yet. Gonna take my time with you,” he said, his voice low.

She gasped as he licked a broad stripe over her cunt, still sensitive from her orgasm.

“Joe!”

“I know you can cum again, Angel. I know you can be a good girl for me.”

And with that, he lowered his mouth to her and began to eat her out, slow and methodical, his tongue working her clit, his fingers slipping inside her. She was still sensitive, and within seconds she was writhing, her hips bucking against him. But he held her down, his arm across her hips, his fingers pressing inside her as his tongue circled her clit. She gasped, her fingers twisting in his hair, and when she came, she cried out his name again, her body shuddering.

She didn't even have time to catch her breath before Joe moved up her body again, his cock hard again and pressing against her entrance. Joe’s on her, hands gripping her thighs, folding her effortlessly into the deepest angle, her legs pressed to her chest, body pinned beneath his. He kissed her as he pushed into her, and she moaned against his mouth. He was so deep, so thick, and even though she'd just cum twice, she wanted, no she needed more. She needed all of him.

When he was fully sheathed inside her, he pulled back, looking down at her. His curls fell over his forehead, his eyes intense as he gazed down at her.

“You take me so good, baby,” he rasped. “Always so perfect.”

She whimpered as he started to move, thrusting deep and hard, the new angle making her eyes roll back.

“Oh—fuck—” she gasped.

“Yeah, that's it. Take it.” He kissed her again, his tongue sweeping into her mouth. She kissed him back, her hands gripping his biceps, her legs wrapped around him. He broke the kiss, looking down at her again, his gaze intense. “You're gonna cum for me again, baby. One more time.”

“Yes—yes—”

His grip on her hips tightened, and he slammed into her again, again, again. No mercy, no hesitation.

Just filthy, hard thrusts that made the bed rock against the wall. She screamed, her hands scrambling for something, anything to hold on to, but there was nothing—nothing but his body, his cock driving into her like he was trying to brand her with every thrust.

Her third orgasm ripped through her like a tidal wave, and she came all over his cock again, soaking him. Her body trembled under his, but still, still, he didn’t let up. His body pressed into hers, hands braced on her legs keeping them pinned to her chest, his cock buried deeper than ever before, driving into her, dragging along her walls, making her sob and shake.

The angle was brutal. Relentless. She’d never felt like this before—full, owned, like she was completely at his mercy.

And Joe? Joe was gone. Whispering filthy things in her ear, hissing her name through clenched teeth, praising her for being such a good girl. He was watching her, gaze locked on hers, as she unraveled completely, as her body broke apart under his.

It was too much. It wasn't enough. It was perfect, it was terrifying.

She could feel the sweat dripping down her spine, her hair plastered to her forehead, her entire body shaking. She couldn’t stop cumming, couldn’t stop clenching, couldn’t stop begging for more. And he was relentless, never letting up, never slowing down, never giving her a second to breathe.

She was shaking, her whole body trembling as he kissed her, his fingers working her clit, her cunt still pulsing around his cock.

Angel gasped, eyes wide, mouth open. Her whole body froze.

“Joey—!” She squealed, trying to push at his chest. “Wait—wait. Can’t—something’s wrong—”

Her breath caught, her eyes rolled, and her whole body began to shudder.

And Joe felt it, too—that tightening, the frantic pull, the way Angel’s walls clamped around his cock like her body was begging him to fuck it loose.

Joe groaned. Loud. Wrecked.

Ferally turned on.

“Yeah?” Joe grunted, voice low, rough. His hips snapped harder now, more urgent, more demanding. “You gonna give it to me, baby? Come on. Let it go. Show me.”

And Angel did. Just like that. She came completely undone.

Angel shattered beneath him. Her legs trembling, her back arching off the bed.

An almost wounded cry spilled from her lips, and for a split second, Joe thought he'd done something wrong, thought he'd hurt her or pushed her too far, but then—

Then, she squirted for the very first time.

It caught her by surprise, her body overwhelmed by too much, too fast, her hands weakly pushing at his chest.

But her eyes—

Her eyes said, Don't stop. Don't ever stop.

Joe lost whatever control he had left.

"Oh fuck—Angel—" He snarled, his voice more animal than man as he held her hips down, watching in pure disbelief and raw, unfiltered awe as her pussy gushed around his cock. "Oh, fuck—baby—"

His hand dove between them, fingers finding her clit and rubbing tight, fast circles over the sensitive bud.

“Look at you making a fucking mess baby.” Joe panted, his voice wrecked. “Angel—baby—fuck. You didn’t even know what you could do—”

“I—” Angel sobbed, her hips jerking beneath him. “Oh fuck—oh fuck, please—I—”

“Yeah.” Joe groaned again, pressing down on her clit as he slammed into her, making her squirt again, harder this time. The slick gushed out of her, soaking his cock and dripping onto the sheets, making a fucking mess, but Joe couldn’t stop, didn’t want to stop. “That’s it, baby. Let it go. Look at what I do to you. Mine.”

He fucked her through it, through every single wave, pounding into her soaked pussy, growling every single time her walls tightened around his cock.

“Fuck—fuck—” he rasped, his forehead pressed against hers, his eyes locked on her face. “Angel, baby, I’m gonna—fuck—I’m gonna—”

“You can—” she gasped, still squirming, still writhing. “Please, Joey. Please—”

He fucked her harder, his hand tightening on her hip, the other braced next to her head. He was going to cum, he knew he was, and when he did—

When he did, it was with a snarled curse, his cock pulsing inside her as he emptied himself, filling her with thick ropes of cum. He groaned through his teeth, his forehead still pressed against hers, body shaking as he kept thrusting, slow now. Drawing out every pulse, every spurt, every drop.

Angel moaned at the feeling, warm and full and messy. She could feel his cum leaking out of her as he pulled out, but he didn't go far, just dropped his weight on her, burying his face in her neck, kissing her there before he rolled them over so she was on top, straddling his waist.

She could feel him, softening inside her now, and she shuddered, her body still sensitive, still twitching. She could feel the mess between them, feel his cum and her slick still leaking from her. Joe's hands smoothed up and down her back, gentle now, soothing.

“That was—” She swallowed, still trying to catch her breath. “Wow.”

He chuckled, pulling her down to kiss him. His mouth was warm, comforting, and she kissed him back, slow and sweet.

“Mmm,” he mumbled against her lips. “Perfect.”

“Yeah,” she sighed, resting her forehead against his. “Perfect.”

He kissed her again before she could pull back, then wrapped his arms around her, holding her close.

“Love you,” he murmured, his voice soft, his eyes closed.

“I love you, too,” she said, and she could feel his smile against her cheek.

They stayed like that for a while, both breathing heavily, before he finally pulled out and laid her beside him. He pulled her into his arms, her back to his chest, and kissed the back of her neck.

“Welcome home,” he whispered.

She smiled, snuggling closer to him. “It’s good to be back.”

JB9 Taglist: @lilfreakjez, @dasia21, @superanastasia1981, @gg-trini, @wickedfun9, @irishmanwhore, @danielle143, @kayyybay, @destinyg237

251 notes · View notes

mumoolin · 1 month ago

Text

— only the sun has come this close, only the sun (kageyama tobio)

tobio kageyama loved consistency. that's why he stayed consistent in living a life with his beloved childhood friend.

THEMES ⋮ f!reader, childhood friends to lovers, bantering, kageyama tobio's love language is gift giving and acts of service kinda, badly written (a repost from a year ago) 3k words

tobio kageyama was probably somebody you could call your best friend. you grew up together, cooped up in the warmth of your mother's homemade soup as its scent lingered around your house's living room. (he always stayed around since his parents were always somehow busy with grown-up jobs)

you could remember the day as clear as his transparent water bottle back in elementary, containing that weird flavoured water (energy drink?) that he always drinks. (he claims it'll help him grow taller, though you think he's already tall enough.) (you like it better when you're the taller one.)

five-year-old you's face was glued to your living room's fan as you watched a movie you thought was interesting (you were bored) your mom was calling from the front door, but you couldn't bother moving. your eyes gawked towards the handsome male lead, eyes seemingly yearning for the pretty female lead. you don't really know the plot, as you came across it though flicking through channels, but you'd take anything over doing another chore under the hot sun. you wondered how actors make emotions look so real.

sweat trickled down your forehead despite the fan cooling you down (sheesh, summers in miyagi were harsh), but you didn't complain. you didn't notice at first, really, but a boy sat beside you, probably wanting a gist of the air coming from the fan too.

"he's staying here with us till dinner. be polite and greet him, okay?. his parents will be busy with work, and apparently, his grandpa went to his sister's practice. they're the kageyama's next door. stand up, would you?" your mom half scolded you when you scowled and pinched your cheeks as she urged you to stand up to greet the boy sitting beside you. you didn't even notice that they walked towards your spot.

"hi, nice to meet you." you looked over to the boy meekly. you've never really had many friends, and you've never befriended a boy, ever.

"i'm kageyama tobio. i'm five. do you play volleyball?" the weird kid asked you, his cobalt eyes looking at you intensely. was he serious? but you were glad your mom finally left you alone.

"no, i don't really like moving around. kinda." you saw him nodding, sitting down again as he joined you to watch the movie right after. he kept fidgeting with the volleyball he had with him (you wondered where he pulled that out from) (he was probably holding it when he introduced himself, but you couldn't really be paid to bother)

"why do you watch people kissing? you should switch the channel to the volleyball one," he looked at you intensely again, so you wondered if that's just how he normally looks at people. with.. passion? you really don't know.

"adult couples kiss a lot, it's normal. i'll switch the channels." you offered so that maybe he would stop pestering you by bouncing the volleyball on his hands (it made a weird sound against your house's wooden floor)

the television screen glitched slightly before stopping on a channel showing a volleyball game

"the number two guy's my favourite. he's good at setting and never misjudges a ball, " tobio rambled. you wondered what he meant by those terms, but at the end of the day, only he can fulfil his volleyball ranting endeavours—maybe until the day you started listening.

you fiddled with the keychain chained to your new randoseru, the one that your dad had brought for you (you gasped at the price tag since daddy dearest forgot to take it off and ended up shocked.)

nervous was an understatement for what you were feeling. it was your first day in elementary school, and you definitely woke up and got up too early. gobbling up your breakfast and brushing your teeth, you bid your father goodbye and kissed your mother on the cheek, setting off to the house next to yours—kageyama's.

you rang their fancy doorbell, and a girl spoke (his sister, probably. mom-geyama leaves early and comes home late, as you have noticed from too many forced sleepovers set by your mom)

before you could hear the girl greet you, she hushed somebody nearby (tobio) for running around the house early in the morning, and the intercom shut off.

tobio kageyama, in all his glory, wacked open the door, speeding towards the gate in front of you. and before you knew it, he was already in front of you, a paper with scribbles on his right hand, his volleyball on the other.

"miwa wrote this down. she said to follow all of the landmarks she described here. you should hold it." tobio handed you the paper, and your gaze immediately swept over the paper, carefully reading its contents.

"i'm sure there are lots of volleyballs there, tobio. why bother bringing that?" you asked, pointing at the worn-out leather-wrapped rubber ball in his hands. six year old you still couldn't comprehend the love and passion the boy had for the sport (it was too intense for a simpleton like you) but you thought it was just as much as the love you had for your gameboy.

"it won't feel the same as this one. i've been practicing with it for years," he said, but you weren't really having it.

"it might get confiscated, tobio." that apparently did the deal, as he threw it back to the front yard of his house.

that year's summer was not spent with your gameboy or your cringeworthy romantic films. it wasn't spent catching bugs or sleeping lazily around the house with your cat, grumpy (who weirdly looks a lot like tobio with his messy black fur and striking blue eyes.) it was spent tossing balls to the ravenette in your small backyard (thanks to your mom who hates your gameboy more than anything in the whole world) but you enjoyed it, probably because you were with tobio.

you were doomed the moment you fell for his adulation.

"tossing balls to me won't require that much moving, don't worry." was what he said a moment ago. now you were dripping in sweat in your snoopy tank top while you eagerly drank cold water from your fridge. tobio was occupied with your fan in your living room. turns out his love for volleyball can't really beat the summer heat.

"stay away from my fan, knucklehead. this is your fault." your actions said otherwise as you hand him a milk popsicle—the one you knew he liked, that's why you pestered your dear papa to buy a whole pack for when kageyama came over—while he steadied the fan to face you.

"we can share, if we don't we're both gunna die of heat stroke." you could see the genuine fear in tobio's eyes. he was dumber than you, after all. you hurriedly set the fan to move it's head around the two of you.

he was always there.

grampa-yama was watching tobio when you came over. there were three chairs set out near their television. tobio ran to the door to greet you, then excitedly schlepped you to sit on the chair next to the one he was sitting on.

"big sis miwa's at practice. this is grandpa. grandpa, this is my friend." kageyama spoke, not facing you, or his grandfather. his eyes were glued to the tv, watching a volleyball game. his grandfather smiled to you kindly, pushing a plate of biscuits towards you.

"nice to meet you, tobio's friend." tobio certainly did not get kageyama kazuyo's smile, as his grampa's was warm and welcoming. his was plain awkward. even his dimples did not make up for it.

while tobio was busy in the toilet, you whispered to grampa-yama, "did you know tobio's really really dumb! sensei made him write 'i will not sleep' many times in the blackboard. but sensei always says i'm a genius, that's why i help tobio in addition."

grampa-yama laughed at you, messing up your hair. "we've all got different strengths, it's nice to know tobio has such a funny friend."

"heh, i am the funniest. hey, which high school did you go to, tobio wants us to go there, but he won't tell me its name."

"shiratorizawa, dear. shiratorizawa." grampa-yama said proudly, taking a sip once more from his tea. "he might've just forgotten the name."

you sat there until tobio came back.

"what team is winning? you asked, taking a bite of the yummy biscuit set in front of you. "the blue one, we cheer for that one." tobio answered, looking at you with a smile.

grampa-yama was sweet and kind.

your afternoon passed just like that, and now you were in tobio's room, full from dinner (takeouts). tobio always insisted on alying out two futons, despite having his own bed, just to lie down beside you (and bug you the whole night, probably).

"why'd you always sleep next to me? you coddle my blanket, too! stupid-tobio!" you scoffed slightly, tugging your blanket away from his pouting face.

"well, this stupid-tobio lays out a futon for you. 'm not stupid! he argued, tugging back the blanket. what was the use of two futons when you shared a blanket, anyway.

elementary passed by in a blink, and now you were fourteen, almost finished with junior high school. the first day was spent with tobio, as per usual. you both made a habit out of walking to school and home together (which didn't really matter to you, he was always around anyway), so he's probably your best friend by now.

you do everything best friends do; he eats dinner at your house, you sleep over his. you let him play on your gameboy and he asks you to toss balls for him.

kitagawa daiichi was pleasant (for you), but you couldn't really understand why tobio's volleyball teammates liked having you around.

"why do i have to sit through your practice? i'm busy," you reasoned, although tobio's teammates, kunimi and kindaichi, probably couldn't care less.

"he's less mad when you're around. he's probably in love with you or something. deal with it for a while longer, please. i can't bear with that stupid guy anymore." kindaichi sighed, walking over his water bottle while kunimi followed. you didn't really understand. tobio was nice, nice to you, and nice to your mom. maybe it was because of grampa-yama not lifting his head from the hospital bed.

speaking of the devil, he entered the gymnasium holding two cartons of drinks. (you assumed the strawberry milk was yours. he always got it for you). he stabs the straws of the two drinks before handing the pink one to you (you were right) and hurriedly sipped on his drink.

"just a few minutes more. we can go home after. sorry."

"i don't mind, i'll wait for you here."

walking with tobio was warm, you thought. it should be cold, but it didn't really matter. your left hand was holding his right, shoved in his jacket's front pocket. you were weirdly flustered.

you don't know when it started. when you checked yourself double in your room's mirror before going out with tobio for his volleyball practice. you started picking out cute clothes to wear whenever he came over to your house. you started to indulge yourself in cosmetics—like all the girls in your class do—to seem more grown-up and mature. tobio didn't get it at all. he also didn't get why you don't change into your joggers when you attend his practices. you'd always sit pretty in a skirt. (which is the reason why you're shivering when you step out of the gym. tobio has to wait for you to change into his extra joggers.)

nontheless, he knew not to bother you about it that much. though he thought you were the prettiest when you were just you.

he spends half of his allowance buying you pretty hair clips, and your favourite was the first one he gave you, the one with a pretty sakura flower on it. he shows up randomly in your house (at 8 am or 8 pm, no in between), just to hand you a pretty hair clip, eat dinner with your family, scowl back at grumpy, and chat with your dad. it's his way of telling you you're pretty. (giving pretty things to a pretty person makes sense to him) (and maybe gaining your parents' approval) he loves how you wear one every day when you greet him in the morning.

grampa-yama has passed away, and tobio has changed a lot. he might be the same with you, but you noticed he shut off practically everyone. you somehow feel bad for kunimi and kindaichi. maybe they were speaking the truth. tobio never stopped being sweet as you mull over the words kindaichi once said.

"he's probably in love with you."

tobio didn't get the shiratorizawa sports scholarship, and didn't pass the written exams, either. you felt guilty, somehow. all those weeks of studying with sticky notes and audio lessons came to waste 'cause you couldn't help tobio.

"it's okay. i'm not really good at studying like you are. i'm glad you're in. I've got a backup school, so i'll be alright." tobio tried to convince you, but the shakiness in his voice said otherwise.

"what's your backup school? we'll take the test together. doesn't matter if i passed the exam, school won't be the same without you, tobs." you said, wrapping your scarf around his neck. he always forgot to bring his own.

winter was coming, but your cold heart just started defrosting.

karasuno is pleasant, nonetheless. (you've been saying 'pleasant' about all the schools you've attended.) you sometimes wonder why you and tobio never went out with other people like normal teenagers do. you guess you could say that it's always been the two of you. high school kids have broken up into cliques back at kitagawa daiichi, so boys and girls being friends weren't normal at all (according to your pesky classmates who dubbed you as 'kageyama's girlfriend'), although you were grateful, somehow. grateful that you're the only one nicknamed as that.

tobio has grown taller, his face more defined. you notice girls staring when he played in the gym. you were glad his face held a scowl as you trudged past the gawking girls, handing tobio a drink

high school is no different with junior high. you still went to school and walked home with tobio, as you always do. but there's this uncut tautness gaining its roots. tobio put more effort and time with volleyball as you did with your studies (and your new psp), and you somehow weren't surprised. walking home was spent alone with your headphones while tobio set balls in karasuno's gym.

there came days when you rarely saw your best friend. sadness was an understatement.

from: tobio :3

about: english

can you help me with english? our captain said i should ask for help from someone who's in college prep class. my teammate won't help me

to: tobio :3

about: english

[unsent] did u miss me

[unsent] why'd u only talk 2 me when u need help

kay, come over.

from: tobio :3

about: untitled

i'm coming over, want anything?

to: tobio :3

about: untitled

nothing

you weren't really surprised when he rang your doorbell, but you didn't get up like you always do. you let it ring three time till your mother answered. you hear quick, quiet footsteps nearing as you busy yourself with your new psp

"i need to pass this or else I'll stay back when the team goes to tokyo. please help me."

"i will."

you couldn't really last long mad at him. not when those cobalt eyes were already doing a good job pleading. on his hands were a carton of strawberry milk, a packet of gummies, and a chocolate bar. he always knew what you liked.

your afternoon was spent teaching tobio with what works with him most. which was in volleyball terms. but somehow, you weren't really surprised to hear that he placed some words wrong in the test and had to stay back. that's when you realised you could never in your life be mad at kageyama tobio.

after thanking tanaka-senpai through the phone, tobio and hinata drove off to tokyo in a car driven by tanaka's sister, saeko. luckiness was a trivialization. tobio, who was almost dozing off, felt his phone ring as he took a bite of his onigiri

from: important (open immediately)

about: tokyo

howd u get 2 tokyo? hotaru told me she saw u and ur ginger teammate hop on in a college girl's car

to: important (open immediately)

about: tokyo

she's my teammates' sister. i'll buy you souvenirs here if we're able to go out. sorry for failing the test, I'll do better next time.

it was dark when he came back to miyagi, ringing your doorbell in a sweaty t-shirt. his right hand was holding a paper bag, and on his face was a nervous expression (his face wasn't really expressive, you just know how to read him from all those years of playing uno) (his face looked sour whenever he lost)

"what's that you're holding?" you queried, holding a towel so that he can wipe off the sweat trickling down his forehead. you knew he'd run to you right after. you knew he'd ring your doorbell three times, and you knew he'd never come empty handed.

"souvenirs, for you. i told you i'd buy you souvenirs. i gave money and pleaded to takeda-sensei to buy merlot for your mom and dad. i like you."

"what?"

"i like you. hinata and yamaguchi saw your message and thought you were my girlfriend. they told me that you might be jealous that i went to tokyo in another girl's car. so there, i like you. please don't get jealous."

you swore you felt the air shift, as your hands got numb and your head went through an information overload. were you jealous? you thought. maybe a bit. a college girl with a car was a hundred times cooler than you, nevertheless you never really thought about it. but tobio just confessed, should you answer? (gee, you were just fourteen) (if only you knew that your ominous text message gave him all the push) you chased after his retreating figure at your gate, the paper bag filled to the brim with snacks and hairclips dropped at your front door as you hugged the back of tobio kageyama, who claimed to like you.

"knucklehead, you can't just say that out loud and expect me to watch you leave."

for the first time in his continued existence, tobio's heart feels full and whole

to: tobio :3

about: untitled

get home safe, suitor. :)

#꩜ random scrawls (bonne nuit)#kageyama tobio x reader #tobio kageyama x reader #kageyama tobio #tobio kageyama #haikyuu x reader #haikyu x reader #karasuno x reader #haikyuu kageyama #kageyama fluff #haikyu fluff #haikyuu fluff #kageyama x you #kageyama x y/n #kageyama hq #hq x reader #hq imagines #haikyuu imagines

213 notes · View notes

thewritergx · 6 months ago

Text

Lake Tahoe: Rafe Cameron x Thornton F!Reader

Summary: Rafe spends Christmas with the Thornton's on their yearly trip to Lake Tahoe when his feelings for the shy girl become too much to handle. I was supposed to post this like two weeks ago, but I got extremely busy, so happy late Christmas. I hope ya'll like this because it was a total bitch to write.

Warnings: Drinking, Mention of lost loved one (Rafe’s papa), Smut Containing: Soft!Rafe x F!Reader, Topper's little sister, Kissing, Begging (by both parties but mostly Rafe), Dry Humping, Oral (F!Receiving), Unprotected P in V, Cumming in your mouth.

Word Count: 5K

EXPLICIT SEXUAL CONTENT. MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Please feel free to like and repost. Click here if you’d like more stories from me. Text divider from @cafekitsune.

The bar is dimly lit, a warm glow from stripes of red and green Christmas lights cast shadows across the low-set tables. Conversations from couples and friends echo off the wall, blending into a quiet hum under soft piano music. Snow falls outside, covering the building in a thick pristine powder. It grows heavier, white flakes swirling in a biting wind. The ground is coated in a thick layer of pale white, covering any signs of the road or sidewalk. The wind howls a fierce and chilling gust that vibrates the bar's windows.

It wasn’t like you hated snow, but the cold never set well on your skin. You were used to sixty-degree winters with the occasional rain, a heavy contrast to the twenty-degrees and constant snow of Lake Tahoe. Your family has been visiting Nevada for the past three years. Slay rides, hot coffee, and campfires always made the trip fun, but it was growing old, and less exciting with each repeated year. Rafe joining the family breathed new life into the trip, an excitement dancing on your skin as his shoulders brushed against you on the seven-hour plane ride. You had hoped you were hiding it well, the lingering feeling of need that crept up anytime Rafe was around.

You spot Rafe from across the bar, his tall frame clad in a thick sweater, sleeves pushed up to his forearms to expose his tan skin. The soft material clings to his chest, a gold chain dangling from his neck. Rafe’s eyes lock onto you, watching the way you ease across the bar and settle on the stool next to him. His eyes rake over you, taking in every detail from your boots to the way your hair falls down your back. He takes a pondering sip of his bourbon, the golden liquid settling on his lips as he swallows. His dark green eyes meet yours in silence, your cheeks and nose rosey from the cold.

“You want a drink?” Rafe blows a quiet huff of air, an intense broodiness clinging to him like a second skin. He glances over at you, a cocky half smile formed at the corner of his mouth, his voice low and smooth under the music.

“What are you drinking?” You ask, turning your body to him.

Rafe smirks at the question, a hint of amusement you rarely see. “You’re not going to like it”. His eyes flicker over you. A low gruff as he chuckles hits your ears, another rarity.

“Let me try it.” You furrow your eyebrows, examining the ice that clings against the glass.

Rafe studies your face for a moment, that cocky smile creeping up again before he pushes his glass towards you. “Sure, but don't say I didn't warn you”, he replies, watching as you wrap your mouth around the rim of the glass, lips landing right where he previously was.

Your face turns sour, lips puckering as you swallow the cold drink. “What is that?” You laugh, whipping your lips with the sleeve of your sweatshirt.

Rafe grins, his green eyes dancing with amusement. “It's just an old fashioned. Nothing crazy,” he chuckles. “Told you, you wouldn't like it.” Rafe gestures to the bartender, signaling them over with a wave of his hand. Even away from the Outer Banks, he has people at his beck and call.

“Can I get a vodka cran? Put it on my tab” He instructs the bartender, waiting as the man dressed in all black brings back a glass. “Here, you look like the type.”

“Hey, what does that mean?” You laugh, placing your hand on his warm chest. You would never tell Rafe, but Vodka had always been your go-to.

Rafe studies you again, peering down as a spark of green glimmers against the Christmas lights. His gaze falls down his body, landing on the way your hand lingers against him. “Nothing. I can tell you prefer it sweet, not too strong.” He clears his throat, his tone a playful mockery as he leans closer into you.

You shudder at his words, a slight shiver running through you as you grab the glass from his hands, fingers ghosting over his.

“Cold?” He asks, his expression soft.

“I’m freezing. I wish my parents would pick somewhere warmer for vacations”, you mumble, taking another quick sip.

“Here. Take my jacket.” You watch as Rafe grabs his jacket, the muscles in his shoulders flexing as he places it around you. He drapes it over your shoulders, hands brushing the fabric up and down to create a warm friction on your skin.

You nodded your head, a quiet “thank you” scarcely audible over the music as you pressed your legs firmly together.

“Have you seen Topper?” You glance around the room, looking for any sign of your brother. He was supposed to be here having dinner with you and the rest of the family. It was just like him to run off, quickly leaving you and Rafe behind as he partied with some random girl. Your voice is less than thrilled, a dash of annoyance in your tone.

“I saw him leave a while around”, Rafe smiled, “had some blonde chick with him”. Topper had been a good friend, but Rafe was lying if he said he considered him a real, true friend. If Rafe was being completely honest, he only accepted the invitation to your family's vacation to spend more time with you, the girl he was reluctantly pinning over for the last year and a half.

Growing up, Rafe was constantly by Topper's side. When someone asked, he would say they were best friends or that he was like a brother to him. But in the back of his mind, Rafe knew. He knew the only thing still tying him to Topper was you. You were always lingering close by, a constant presence in his peripheral vision. Rafe didn't know when it happened but he stopped hanging out with your brother to spend time with him and switched to getting quick off-hand glances of you. You would be laid up by the pool, a tiny bikini clinging to your tanned skin, or sitting in your living room with a book, your legs spread out over the polyester. Everything about you pulled him in, a yearning he had kept quiet for far, far too long. You were a constant tease, always lurking in the background of his life. Just close enough to make you impossible to ignore but always out of his reach.

Now, he was stuck here with you, your hands lingering on him like a warm blanket. He was never a big fan of Christmas, especially not now that his father was dead and the rest of his family was refusing to speak to him. He hated to admit it, but the only choice he had for this Christmas was to third-wheel on your trip. He felt out of place, like a burden to everyone around him, even if Topper had guaranteed that he was welcome to accompany the family.

Rafe glimpses at the windows, watching the heavy snow fall silently. “Is it always like this?” Rafe stands motionless next to you, taking a big swig of his whiskey to cover the slight concern in his voice.

“No,” You laugh, watching the way his shoulders tense. “A storm is coming through. It’ll pass”.

“I don’t like it”, Rafe mumbles, his grip on the glass becoming strained. “Maybe we should get going. The hotel is just a block down. I’ll walk with you.”

“Okay,” You mutter, swallowing the remainder of your vodka. “You want your jacket back?”

“I’ll manage”. Rafe places a firm hand on your waist, his jacket loosely hanging as you stand from the stool. His grip is protective, a warm presence against the chilling air. “Besides, you look like you need it more than me. You’re shaking”.

He slips his hand in yours, fingers encasing yours as he leads you past the crowd and towards the exit door. Electricity surges through you, a hot blush covering your cheeks.

Rafe’s motions are fluid, the muscles in his back tensing under his sweater and he guides you into the cold night air. The frozen ground crunches under your feet, echoing in the silence between you. Rafe groans, the cold air hitting his face with an unexpected violence. He keeps his grip tight in your hands, a reassuring warmth in the freezing temperature.

Rafe leads you through the front door of the hotel. The lobby is a quiet ghost town, only a couple of the hotel staff linger behind the front desk. The air between you is still, almost like a storm is not raging just outside the thick walls. Rafe’s fingers finally loosen in yours, his eyes trailing over you as he gently brushes a bit of snow from your cheeks.

“I’ve got a fireplace in my room.” His fingers dance across your soft skin, a small smirk tugging at the corner of his lips as he loiters against your cheek, tracing along your jawline. “You can come warm up”. His eyes lock on yours, watching the way you shudder against his touch.

“Oh, u-um…o-okay,” you whisper, your eyes meeting Rafe’s as he towers over, his body close enough to fill yours with warmth.

The elevator ride is quiet, your breath hitching as Rafe presses the button to the fifth floor. He leads you towards the room, his strides are quick and calculated against the carpeted hallway. He stops at room 514, pulling out a key card, and quickly unlocking the bedroom door. Rafe gestures you inside the spacious room, an elegant and comfortable room dominated by a large fireplace. Soft carpet blankets the floor, a queen bed in the center.

“You look very pretty, by the way”, Rafe clears his throat, standing awkwardly in the doorframe, his hands stiff by his side.

“You think I’m pretty?” You mumble, a shy nervousness causing your eyes to fall to the floor.

Rafe shuffles, taking a step towards you. In a single passing second his body is pressed against you, his hand resting on your chin to force your eyes on his.

“I’ve always thought you were beautiful,” he smiles, tracing the plump skin of your lips with the pad of his thumb. It’s a gentle motion, one that forces a red-hot blush on your cheeks. You search for anywhere to look, darting your eyes between Rafe and the doorway.

“Getting shy on me, princess?” Rafe smiles, the hand on your lips traveling down to your jawline, tracing every inch of the velvety skin. You nod your head in a deafening silence, unable to stop the involuntary trembling of your body.

In all the years of knowing Rafe, he had never been this close. He never even made a pass at you. You figured he must not be into you, the way he used to frown at you from across the room at parties.

“It’s okay, I knew you would be. My shy, little girl”. His hands fell to the zipper of the jacket he had placed around you, slowly pulling the cold metal down until it clicked loose. His hand brushed against your shoulder, fingers hooking the thick material until it was falling down your waist onto the floor.

“Rafey,” you finally speak, your breath low and fatigued. You force yourself to look at him, studying the way his Adam’s Apple bobs as he swallows. His eyes dart between yours, hands falling to the small of your back to pull you fully into him, your arms resting around his neck.

“Can I kiss you, princess?” Rafe’s voice is barely a whisper, almost inaudible in the white noise of the snow crashing down outside.

You try to respond, begging yourself to say that simple three-letter word, but your voice is stuck deep in the back of your throat. Instead, you give him an exasperated whine, your eyes pleading for his touch.

Rafe almost laughs, watching you squirm into him, your legs pressing tightly together. As much as he wanted to laugh, and release some of the thick tension built up, nothing was funny. He wished it was humorous, watching you try to fight off the desperation your body was echoing, but it was serious, deadly in the way your little moan sent an intoxicating jolt straight to his cock.

His eyes darted between yours, studying the way your eyelashes peered up at him. He bowed his head, bending his shoulder as leaned into you. Rafe’s small breaths ghosted over your lips, the grip on your back turning to iron. Every muscle in him tenses, his forearms flexing against your body.

Rafe groans, finally meeting your lips in the kiss he has spent years daydreaming of. It’s deep and insistent, his tongue gliding past your lips to explore the warmth of your mouth. He pulls you impossibly closer, molding your molding into his until you are practically one. A raw intensity ripples through him, burning just beneath the surface of his skin as his tongue dances along yours, prompting a low moan from your throat to echo into him. It vibrates through him, his body stiff and hard as his hands roam over you. Every curve, every soft dip is met with a possessive touch, his fingers tracing red hot patterns over the fabric of your clothes. His movements are slow, calculated even under the intoxication of your lips. His hands make a home on your sides, cold fingers gently slipping under the hem of the warm fabric of your sweater. Fire burns through him, the sensation of your smooth skin sending bolts of electricity straight to his cock. Rafe’s hands continue on a dangerous trail upwards, calloused fingers caressing your stomach and ribs.

Rafe’s lips leave yours, both gasping for air as he trails down your cheek, kissing a sloppy path down your jawline to your neck. You whisper his name, all shaky and out of breath as his teeth scrape at the skin, sucking a crimson mark easily seen by others. You should stop him, but your mind is in a daze. Whatever neurons in charge of firing were clearly asleep, your only thought focused on the way his hands travel up your shirt. His fingers trace the outlines of lace, feather-light and reverent as he lingers against the hem of your bra. He takes his time, eyes locked on yours as he teases the material, his fingers tracing the intricate pattern of the fabric before he cups your breast in one hand, his palm warm and firm against your flesh.

Your hands fall to Rafe’s chest, the gentle rising and falling of each breath expanding his muscles under your touch. He shivers at the contact, squeezing the subtle fat of your breast.

Rafe stands motionless for a moment, his only action the gentle caressing of his hands running up and down your sides. His eyes roam your face in thought, wondering just how far you’ll let him take this. His hands grip your hips tighter, his thumbs stroking the bare skin between your shirt and pants, as he gazes down at you with a look of conflicted desire.

“Can I-Will you let me…Fuck, you got me all messed up, princess.” His voice is shaky, the usual roughness betrayed by a yearning need of desire. He clears his throat, swallowing hard as his eyes flutter closed. For a moment he just breathes, holding you against him in a stoic mystery of private thoughts. “I want you…I-If you let me. I p-promise I'll make you feel fucking good. I’ll be gentle. J-just please, please let me inside you. God, I need you so bad, baby.” The words come spilling out of him, like a rush of freedom granted after a thousand years of silence. You swear he’s staring into your soul and you can’t help but wrap your lips around his again, this time a hungry desperate action, leaving a layer of his saliva around your mouth.

That’s all Rafe needs. The confirmation that you want him, that you need almost as much as he does. Rafe grabs at your thighs, a sickening desperation as he hoists you up to wrap your legs around his waist. His hands grip under your ass, squeezing at the fat concealed by a pair of denim jeans. His tongue dances in your throat, his steps messy and uncalculated as he searches for the bed.

The kiss grows more heated and desperate as his hands grip onto your ass, squeezing and kneading at the flesh there before he drops you on the bed, his hips pushing against yours in an anguished attempt for any kind of friction. His body traps you, your back pressed into the warm soft mattress and his muscular frame.

Rafe breaks the kiss, leaving your chest heaving as he gazes down at you with pleading lust-dark eyes. “C-can I take t-this off?” he asks, his voice low and hoarse as he tugs gently at the hem of your shirt. “Please, please let me see you.”

Never would you have expected Rafe to be so tender, the way he begged for just a hint of you almost making you cum right there. “Oh god, yes. Please Rafey, I-I need you,” you whine, your back arching off the bed and into his chest.

Rafe's eyes darken with desire at your words, his control snapping at the way you cried out for him.

“I know, baby. I got you”, he groans, his hands gripping your shirt tightly and quickly pulling it over your head. He tosses the fabric to the floor, his eyes roving over your exposed skin with a longing admiration. "So fucking pretty," he murmurs, his hands running up your sides and caressing your flesh.

Rafe's gaze drops to your bra, his eyes fixed on the lace that covers your breasts. He stares at the thin material, reaching out to caress one of the straps with a shaky hand, his eyes still locked on the way your tits bounce free. Rafe's hands are quick, his fingers falling to your back and unhooking the bra with trembling motions. He drags it down your arms, his eyes ghosting over your bare chest. He swears for a moment he dies, brought back to life by the way your hard nipples sit erect in the air, the subtle pink bud breathing new life into him.

"Fuck," he mutters, his hands immediately coming up to touch your skin. His fingers trace over your flesh, kneading fists full of fat before attaching your nipples between his fingers. Little moans flow out of you, your hips bucking into his relentlessly.

“So soft”. His voice is hardly above a whisper as he peppers wet kisses down your collarbone landing on the bone that separates your breast. He licks a long strip between the two mounds, slipping a nipple between his teeth and sucking. He bobs his head a bit, the swollen bud becoming impossibly harder as his warm tongue teases you.

“Rafey”, you whine, the unfamiliar gentleness of his touch relaxing your body. Your hands fall on his hair, the dirty blonde locks almost too short for you to grasp. He loves the way your hips writhe into him, just as pathetic and needy as him. He gasps at the feeling, his hard cock pressing against you. Even through layers of jeans, you feel him, hard and tight. Rafe growls around your nipple and presses himself against you until you're a grinding mess of moans and whimpers.

“Are you trying to make yourself cum like that, princess?” This time, he lets out a chuckle watching your failing attempt to get off on him. He hovers over you, snapping his hips against yours as your head falls onto his shoulder. “Let me help you,” he smirks, shuffling above you. He stands at the foot of the bed, fumbling at the button of your jeans. His fingers are shaking, his breath hitching as they tug at the fabric, quickly pulling the annoyance down your legs. You're left in a pair of thin panties, the light blue fabric becoming more of a dark grey as your arousal soaks the material, an obvious mark of how undone Rafe has already left you.

He towers over you, green eyes a shade darker than normal as he spreads your legs. A newfound confidence washes over him, and he’s pulling his sweater off in a swift motion. His tan muscles hit the cold air, his eyes roaming over the way your pussy lips are outlined, in clear view even though the panties hugging at your sides. He almost loses right there, watching you all sprawled out and begging for him.

Rafe undoes his jeans, his movements quick and urgent as he tries to get them off, throwing them off the bed with a light ‘thud’. You can’t help but stare, mouth watering at the way his boxers press against him, a large bulge pulling at the fabric.

Rafe’s motions are smooth as he positions himself on the bed, his back against the bed frame, pillows keeping him at a ninety-degree angle. You grasp your waist, pulling each leg by his thighs so you're straddling him. His hands grip your hips, holding you in place as he pushes you back in forth on his clothed cock. Even through his boxers, he can feel your slick wetness, his fingers digging into your sides as you buck into him.

“That’s it. Fuck, grind my cock baby.” That’s all he has to say before you’re throwing your head back, bouncing your tits in his face as you practically ride him. Sharp gasps escape you, the smooth skin of your thighs pressed against his as your hips stir in a string of circular motions, massaging your clit with his hard cock.

Fuck,” he growls between gritted teeth, his jaw clenched as his eyes flutter close. “You…you gotta slow down baby”. He knew he wouldn’t make much longer for his cum to spill out of him, not with you crying above him and using him like some kind of sex toy. Rafe dragged a finger to your panties, quickly rubbing soft motions with his thumb, circling your clit with gentle strokes.

It’s enough to push you just over the edge of no return, your legs already shaking as your stomach tightens. “Fuck, Rafe,” you cry out, your hand grabbing at Rafe’s shoulders.

“Yeah? You gonna cum for me baby?” He growls, pulling your hips harder against him and rubbing his thumb faster.

You nod your head, crashing your lips against his as your orgasm hits you like lightning, a single bolt sending shots of painful ecstasy to every nerve.

Rafe wraps his arms around you, still gasping for air as he flips you into your back, his body weight crashing down on you.

His hands dig into the hem of your panties, his eyes fixed on the fabric as if he’s completely entranced, not a care in the world other than what’s concealed underneath. "I need to taste you," he mutters, his voice gravelly with need. "Can I taste you?"

His words sent an uninvited shiver through you, your cheeks growing hot with embarrassment. You fight not to turn away, a gasp leaving your lips as he spreads your legs.

Rafe was no stranger to your shyness, always turning away when he looked too long or brushed against you. His eyes roamed over you, fingers lightly brushing your thighs. “Don't get all shy on me now,” he smirked, your adorable blush sending shockwaves to his cock. “Please, please let me do this,” he begged, lightly pulling at your panties again.

“I…O-okay,” you whined, watching your panties fall down your legs and Rafe sinks to his knees. He snaked his arms around your thighs, holding you in place as he smothered your skin in soft kisses. His hand made smooth up and down motions against you, his breath hot against your core as he spread your legs, hooking your ankles around his neck.

Rafe lost it, the sight of your swollen pussy in his face. You were so fucking perfect, arousal leaking out of your dark pink hole and onto the blanket under you. He ghosted his lips over your clit, mankind small quick motions with his tongue as his fingers spread your labia apart. Your clit was so pretty, swollen, and hard against him as he sucked his lips around it.

“Fuck, ohmygod” Your words came out in one syllable, euphoria dripping from your throat as Rafe lapped at your pussy, soaking you in his salvia. His spit ran down your legs, mixing with your arousal in a warm concoction of need.

“Taste like heaven, princess. Fucking heaven” he groaned against you, vibrating your clit between his teeth. Rafe could do this hours, days even he thinks. Swirling his tongue through your folds and cleaning the mess you made against him just moments ago. The way you're moaning his name, your hips bucking into his mouth as you dig your hands in his hair, it’s too much for him to take.

“Oh, Rafe!” You pray the walls of the hotel are insulated enough to drown out your cries, your brother just on the other side. Your head falls back, spine arching in the air as you tremble around him.

Rafe needs more, needs to feel you stretching around him hopelessly as he drills into you. But he can’t rush, wanting even more in this moment for you to cum in his mouth, let him swallow every drop of wetness that falls onto his tongue.

“That’s a good girl. I knew you would like it,” he groans, sucking at your clit with vengeance. “Don’t I always take care of you?” He asks, recalling moments when he drove you home from parties or picked you up after school. He was always there, just a phone call away from rescuing you if you ever needed it.

“Ah! God, Rafe. Please, I-I’m gonna…” you were cut off by your own gasps, a second orgasm coursing through your veins.

“Good fucking girl,” Rafe growled, quickly standing to his feet and tugging his boxers down. He knows he should probably open you up with his fingers, help stretch your walls a bit before he pounds into you, but he feels like he’s got seconds to last before he’s nutting in his underwear like a bitch.

“Fuck, I need you baby. Please, can I put it in?” He whines, a sound so foreign to you, that you almost can’t recognize it’s him. Rafe tried so hard to wait for you to tell yes, but he’s already rubbing the tips of sick against your pussy, your slick wetness painting the underside of his.

Rafe grabs at your legs, pulling you farther back until your ankles hang on his shoulders. “Fuck baby, need to hear you say it. Tell me I can take you. Tell me this pussy is all for me”

The tip of cock pressed into you lightly, dangerously close to dipping inside you. Rafe can feel your walls clenching, the warmth of you on his cock destroying all the strength he has.

“Please, Rafey. It’s yours. Please, please, please,” falls from your lips, your fingers digging into the blankets as Rafe shivers his cock inside. One swift motion and you are seeing stars, the pit in your stomach filling with rapture.

Rafe swears you were made for him, taking his cock until his balls are pressed against your ass. He tries to be gentle, pulling out so tormentingly slow. He finds a steady, rhythmic pace as he slams back into you, your legs shaking like you just ran a 5K.

“Fuck, ain’t gonna last long with you squeezing me like that,” Rafe groans, pounding into you with an unforeseen violence even he didn’t know how to stop.

“I need you to cum baby, please. Cum around my cock, need it so bad.” He practically cries, biting at his hand as he watches the way your tits bounce with every thrust.

“Close,” is all the strength you have to say, your eyes clenched tight as Rafe slams into your cervix. He brings his hand to your clit, rubbing soft circles that make your mouth snap open.

“Fuck!” You scream, bucking your hips as much as movements would allow. In a second you're following his instructions. Your walls are like velvet, hugging his cock so tight he’s afraid he might not be able to stop. He growls at the thought, wishing he could flood you full of his hot thick seed.

“Shit,” he whispered through gritted teeth, pulling his cock out faster than he ever would have hoped. “Open that pottery mouth baby, fuck” Rafe grabs your hair, gently pulling you so sit just under his cock, your tongue pressed against his tip as he strokes every bit of his cum into you.

“Fucking swallow it,” he demands, pumping harder as he shoves his head passed your teeth, hitting the back of your throat as ropes of his juices fill you. Salty and bitter, but a welcomed taste you always dreamed of.

“Good girl” he whispers, watching you scope the drops running down your chin into your mouth, sucking your finger as you swallow.

“You okay,” he asks, a hint of nervousness overshadowed by breathless huffs.

“Great,” you laugh, pulling him next to you on the bed. You run your hands down his chest, the veins in his arms lightly sprinkled with sweat.

“You know I’ve always liked you more than your brother,” Rafe chuckles, running his fingers through your hair.

“Yeah, me too” you smile, sprinkling his shoulder in light kisses.

“I meant what I said at you being mine. I don’t ever want to be away from you.” Rafe pulls the blankets over your body, holding you tight as the storm outside continues to brew, the hollowing audible again.

“I meant it when I said I was yours.” You close your eyes, Rafe's strong arms warming your body.

278 notes · View notes

lxkeee · 1 year ago

Text

₊˚ෆ 𝗡𝗔𝗩𝗜𝗚𝗔𝗧𝗜𝗢𝗡 (author info & masterlist)

↬𝑨𝑩𝑶𝑼𝑻 𝑴𝑬

↬𝑨𝑫𝑫𝑰𝑻𝑰𝑶𝑵𝑨𝑳 𝑰𝑵𝑭𝑶

third year college student | education major | sleep deprived 24/7 | a bundle of depression & anxiety | has multiple tumblr accounts @lxkeeeeee [sideblog for repost] & @lxkeeeee [main account] @hoshxnaa [KAIJU NO. 8 side blog] | made this account to dedicate to lucifer from hazbin hotel | plays genshin impact and honkai star rail | would be writing for she/he readers but mostly fem aligned reader | cat luvr, has 7 cats actually | shit humor — inconsistent —has rizz(training order jk) — my english doesn't english sometimes | indecisive | lazy | self indulgent writer

animated lines used are made by cafekitsune

𝐑𝐄𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐒𝐓 𝐏𝐀𝐆𝐄

𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐂𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐕𝐄𝐑 must be at least 15 years old to join!

↬𝑴𝑨𝑺𝑻𝑬𝑹𝑳𝑰𝑺𝑻

• END GAME [MULTISHOT]

— one | two | three | four | five

• MY LOVE, IS MINE ALL MINE [MULTISHOT]

• Lucifer comforting fallen angel! reader

• Lucifer eating reader out [nsfw]

• My GAYDAR is never wrong!

• The Devil has his own charms [Lucifer charming Adam's third wife headcanons]

• Obsession [Lucifer being obsessed with you headcanons]

• Lucifer taking care of his sick s/o

• What's it's like when the princess of hell walks in on her dad doing the devil's tango with his new lover?

• Lucifer with thigh worshipping both fem and male headcanons

• To-do List [Father Lucifer x Daughter! Reader] [Platonic] | MALE/SON VERSION

• Lucifer x overlord! fem! reader (part one | two)

• Chained by desires [oneshot | smut]

• Fly me to the moon [Lucifer x archangel raphael! fem! reader] [misc.]

• I'm in the wind, you're in the water [Lucifer Morningstar x Mermaid! Reader]

—Part One | Part Two

• Two sides of the same coin [ex-husband! Lucifer Morningstar x ex-wife! Angel! Reader]

—Alternate Universe: one | two | three

• IT'S BEEN SO LONG [Lucifer x Adopted angel daughter! Reader] [platonic]

— one | two | three | four

• Heaven and Back! [Alastor's mom! Angel! Reader x Lucifer]

—one | two | three | four

↬𝑴𝑰𝑺𝑪𝑬𝑳𝑳𝑨𝑵𝑬𝑶𝑼𝑺

• Keeping up with The Seven Heavenly Virtues [A Two Sides of the Same Coin socmed side story]

—one | two | three | four | five

↬𝑪𝑶𝑴𝑰𝑵𝑮 𝑺𝑶𝑶𝑵

• CICATRIZE [FULL SERIES] | coming soon

• Can we become we? | coming soon

• Unconditionally [Lucifer x male! sinner! reader] | coming soon

• Enchanted to meet you [angst]

• ME AND THE DEVIL [Lucifer Morningstar x Azazel! Male! Reader]

• Pasilyo/Panalangin oneshot

• Lucifer x cupid! Reader

•

#lxkeee writes #lxkeee hazbin hotel masterlist

1K notes · View notes

scariusaquarius · 26 days ago

Text

rehab. 47.

Avenger! Bucky Barnes x Winter Soldier! Fem! Reader

Summary: While on a mission to find any more possible super soldiers that were a part of the Winter Soldier program, Steve and Bucky make a discovery in an abandoned HYDRA base that was cleared out a few years prior to their mission. They discover the Reader, a long-forgotten soldier that was still asleep within a functioning cryostasis pod; still awaiting orders. While Bucky isn't happy about it, he is put up to the challenge of helping to rehabilitate the soldier in Wakanda where she may be able to become a person again.

A/n: Last chapter was such a whirlwind omg and can you BELIEVE bucky knocked reader tf out, i'm so done with him LMAO also, i am my own worst enemy. i thought my wallet got stolen, ordered a new drivers license, made an appointment with the social security office, attempted to order a new birth certificate, and locked all of my cards and credit accounts. only to find out, i stole my own wallet. it was in pants i wore three days ago even though i swore i had it with me yesterday. im so fuckin mad lmfao. Also, for the mind part, I was writing to a couple songs: Stuck in a Loop by Soul Blind, In Your Head by Cloudyfield, The Crying Room by the Yagas, Screaming by Loathe, Pneuma by TOOL, and Is It Really You? by Loathe. also. this chapter was 11k words.

Also, if you enjoy my work, please consider buying me a coffee! If you would prefer to read Rehab on Archive, you may do so right HERE!

This is an au where Bucky joined the avengers but still rehabilitated in Wakanda (sometime before Infinity War [canon divergent cause NOPE]). I am NOT fluent in Russian, so I did use google translate cause I couldn't find a good translator that I trusted. If anything is wrong, PLEASE let me know!! Also, I tried to list as many warnings as possible so you know what the story will contain as chapters are posted. Stay safe!

NOTE: I DO NOT GIVE PERMISSION FOR ANY OF MY WORKS TO BE FED INTO AI FOR BOTS, I DO NOT GIVE PERMISSION FOR MY WORKS TO BE TRANSLATED, REPOSTED, REWORKED, ETC, IN ANY WAY, SHAPE, OR FORM!!!

Genre: Slowburn, Enemies to Lovers/Friends to Lovers, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Humor, Drama, Dark Content Rated: Explicit Warning: Angst, Dark Content: Graphic Depictions of Sexual Assault, Blood and Gore, Mentions of Manipulation, Kidnapping, Canon-Typical Violence, Body Horror, Nonconsensual Body Modification/Scarring, Emotional and Physical Abuse, Mentions of Murder, Mentions of Suicidal Thoughts/Ideation, Graphic Depictions of Human Remains, Mentions of Sexual Coercion/Manipulation, Death, Misuse of Drugs/Forced Drugging, Self-Harm (Graphic Depictions and Mentions), Nightmares

Author: ScariusAquarius

rehab masterlist. / rehab masterlist 2. chapter 46

Her mind was quiet.

Floating in a void of black, (Y/n) felt frozen; her limbs heavy, her body weighed down as though invisible chains were anchoring her in place. Her head throbbed, the pain blooming from her skull and bleeding down the back of her neck like fire in her veins. Something unseen crawled over her skin, ghosting like cold fingertips or insects, and she flinched, but couldn’t move fast enough.

There were sounds; distant and warped, like hearing the world through a thick wall of water: voices, music, the clash of fighting. None of them made sense, yet all of them sounded familiar.

She opened her eyes.

Nothing but pitch black.

A tightness bloomed in her chest, crushing her ribs, choking her throat. Her breath caught, sharp and panicked—and when she opened her mouth to scream or gasp or anything, bubbles escaped instead. Dozens of them danced upward into the dark, shimmering like they were underwater.

Panic surged through (Y/n), her heart beginning to race. Her arms moved first, slow and clumsy, and then her legs kicked into motion. She was swimming upward, desperate for light, for breath, for something. And far above her, cutting through storm-cloud water, a golden glow flickered like sunlight through waves.

She swam harder, desperation clinging to her like leeches. The closer she got to the surface, the louder the voices became: fragmented echoes from every part of her life, bleeding together into a wall of confusion.

"Please, don't make me do this!"

"I told you to stay out of my office!"

"Sugar, don’t you worry about a thing. Baltimore will be fun!"

"I wrote something new for you to see, (Y/n)!"

"I’m so sorry."

"I hate you! I hate you, I hate you, I hate you!"

Oh god, someone save me.

(Y/n)'s swimming became desperate as she got closer and closer to breaking the surface despite her lungs burning, and when she finally broke through; the sunlight burned her vision from the brightness. Her eyes closed, and when she breathed in deep gulps of oxygen and opened her eyes again, (Y/n) was no longer in the black waters of the void.

Instead, she was standing in the Danger Room, Bucky standing in front of her, and (Y/n) was horrified to find that she was pointing a gun at Bucky. The dead bodies of the Avengers and Wakandans were strewn around behind him, and blood was pouring down the walls; a distinct copper smell filling her nose.

Bucky's metal arm was seemingly ripped off, the arm malfunctioning and sparking on the floor, and the part attached to his shoulder was sparking as well. Almost every part of his body was covered in blood and wounds, and his eyes were disgusted as he looked at her.

"I should have left you were I found you."

"You don't mean that."

She cried, her hand shaking but unable to lower the pistol.

"You're a monster."

"I never meant for any of this to happen."

Bucky hissed out, taking a staggering step forward as blood began to pour from his mouth.

"This is all your fault."

"No, please, I didn't want this!"

(Y/n) watched in horror as bugs and maggots began to crawl out of his mouth, his body twisting grotesquely, and his blue eyes began to become red and bulge before his eyeballs burst within their sockets, and she screamed in fright as Bucky begged.

"Kill me. Make it right."

Kill me. Kill me. Kill me. Kill me. Kill me.

It's not real.

The voice was unfamiliar, making (Y/n) freeze as Bucky fell over, and she was trying not to watch as his body began to bubble and melt before her.

You're just having a nightmare, (Y/n).

Who was speaking? (Y/n) didn't recognize the voice, and she glanced up at the ceiling in confusion before her blood ran cold as all of the dead bodies in the room were suddenly standing all around her; staring her down. (Y/n) was sobbing, staring down at her feet as blood and insects began to crawl towards her boots.

You don't have to be afraid.

"Make it stop."

She whispered, clenching her jaw tightly and squeezing her eyes shut again. However, despite her eyes being shut, it was almost as if she could still see everything.

You have to choose to stop.

She was caught off-guard by the statement. What did the voice mean by choosing to stop? None of this was her doing. None of this was her fault. She would never hurt her friends this way.

Friends.

(Y/n) paused, slowly opening her eyes as she looked up, and in front of her was Rebecca. Her heart stopped, the shock of seeing Rebecca making the whole room seem to stop and freeze in time, and the woman was wrapped in a glow of sunlight. The woman tilted her head slightly, a small smile on her face, and in her hands was a white lily.

"Remember the sunlight."

And suddenly, everything disappeared.

-BUCKY-

The Danger Room had powered down the second that (Y/n) had dropped, the lavender and vanilla scent heavy within the room. Bucky was sobbing, his blue eyes wild as he shook (Y/n), begging her to open her eyes and to say something. His ears were ringing, and his heart was pounding in his chest as he checked (Y/n)'s pulse with shaking fingers.

It was faint, but it was there, and while Bucky was relieved, there was a soul-crushing guilt running through his veins. Her face was a mess—her cheekbone on the left side had clearly fractured, the skin already turning a mottled shade of deep plum and gray.

Her cheek looked sunken, misshapen, and a thin line of blood had trickled from her nose from the impact. It was the kind of injury he'd seen before—one meant to break a body, not just subdue it.

The doors to the Danger Room opened, and Sam came running in with Tony hot on his tail. Sam was quick to place his hand on Bucky's shoulder, trying to pull the man back as Tony attached some sort of Stark tech to her head.

An apparatus suddenly came out of the device, and her face began to slowly start to restructure itself as the apparatus scanned her face. Despite the life-saving measures being taken, Bucky felt as though he had already killed her. Sam was speaking to him, but Bucky couldn't hear a thing. Sam shoved him a little, forcing Bucky to jump back into the present and glance over at Sam as the man exclaimed.

"Bucky! Look at me, you did what you had to do. Alright?"

"I...I didn't mean to...I didn't notice..."

His voice trailed off as tears filled his eyes, and Sam shook his head as he shook Bucky's shoulders.

"No, man, listen. She was trying to kill you, alright? You had to stop going easy at some point. Besides, we got her to stop. That's the point."

Bucky glanced over at (Y/n) again, his stomach becoming nauseous as he watched Tony's tech fix her sunken cheek and lighten the bruises, and his bottom lip trembled.

"I..I don't know what to do."

"Let us do our jobs, alright? Just take a breather."

Bucky felt weightless yet incredibly heavy at the same time. His stomach was in knots, his ears still ringing, and he stumbled as he slowly stood up. Tony glanced at him, stating as Bucky looked over at him.

"She's breathing, so that's a start. (Y/n) will be fine."

Bucky swallowed thickly before walking out of the Danger Room, and he ignored the looks from Wanda, Charles, Hank, Peter, and Logan as he passed by. He needed to find somewhere safe and fast. He could hear the kids all throughout the Institute, their chattering sounding like bees buzzing in his ear, and Bucky's breathing was starting to quicken.

He couldn't orient himself, and there was no amount of help that could keep Bucky from panicking. Somehow, Bucky found himself in the garden, sitting on a bench in front of the white lilies that were swaying in the wind. There were storm clouds in the distance, but they were rolling in slowly; thunder sounding in the distance.

The wind was picking up a bit, and Bucky was starting to fully panic. He was hyperventilating, his chest feeling cold and tight, and he was sweating. Bucky's hand came to his shoulder where his metal arm was attached to his flesh, and his fingers started to scratch incessantly at his skin.

Bucky was beginning to feel a bit lightheaded, and thoughts were racing through his mind NASCAR fast, the sound of bone cracking echoing through his mind over and over again. He remembered the way (Y/n) dropped like dead-weight, her head smacking against the floor, and Bucky was sobbing.

He didn't even realize he was crying and that blood was on his fingers; pain shooting through his back and shoulder, and Bucky's eyes fluttered as his vision began to tunnel. Suddenly, there was another weight on the bench, and Bucky glanced over to find Logan sitting there quietly while smoking his cigar.

All of a sudden, Logan's hand shot out and wrenched Bucky's wrist into his grip, and Bucky jolted, his eyes wide as he stared at Logan.

"That's enough. Pull yourself together."

Bucky's chest was still heaving, and Logan's tone became stern.

"You think you're the first person to break someone you care about? Join the damn club."

Bucky stuttered out.

"You don't understand-"

Logan shook his head, muttering.

"I understand a lot more than you think I do, bub. I've been around a lot longer than you."

Logan then took a deep breath before glancing at Bucky, his grip loosening on Bucky's wrist slightly.

"You didn't kill her. You just made it easier for us to be able to get her down and start working on her."

Bucky's eyes filled with more tears again, and he insisted.

"But I hurt her. I broke her goddamn face, Logan."

Logan frowned, stating.

"Yeah, and? She’s alive. You want a medal for feelin’ guilty, or you wanna help her? Do yourself a favor, and get your ass grounded, bub. Stop talking and start breathing."

"What?"

Logan rolled his eyes before saying.

"I really hate repeating myself. Start. Breathing. In. Out. Or I’ll knock you out so you can calm down the easy way."

Bucky was caught off guard before he began to breathe. His heart was beginning to steady, his head no longer feeling foggy, and Bucky began to become more aware of the pain from scratching at his skin. The scent of Logan's cigar was beginning to fill his nostrils, and Bucky's nose scrunched slightly from the smell before he heaved out a heavy breath.

When Bucky was finally calm, Logan slowly let his hand go before he turned away from Bucky to stare out at the flowers.

"What's the story with the arm, anyway?"

Bucky swallowed thickly before frowning slightly in confusion.

"What do you mean?"

"What do you think I mean, dumbass?"

Bucky glared at Logan for a moment before he glanced back at the lilies.

"Back in '45, Steve and I were leading a mission with the Howling Commandos. There was a scientist named Armin Zola that was with HYDRA...he'd kidnapped my unit and experimented on us before Steve got us out. We found out that he was passing through the Austrian Alps."

Bucky swallowed thickly before glancing down at his metal arm, clenching his fist a bit.

"We invaded the train, ambushed the soldiers, and when Steve had his back turned, there was a soldier that tried to get the jump on him. I protected Steve, and the blast from his gun blew a hole in the side of the train, and I fell out."

Bucky's expression became forlorn, his voice cracking slightly as he continued to speak.

"Steve tried to save me, but...the handle I was hanging on broke, and...I fell. I don't remember a lot, but I think my arm was cut off during the fall...or after...it's a bit fuzzy. I just remember someone dragging me through the snow, and then I woke up on a table with a metal arm."

Logan was quiet for a moment before his took a big puff of his cigar.

"IMy claws weren't always metal."

Bucky glanced over at Logan, asking.

"What?"

Logan held his hand up, and with a slick metallic sound, sharp metal came shooting out from between his fingers. Bucky's eyes widened slightly, and Logan suddenly realized that Bucky had never actually seen them before.

"You've never seen 'em before, huh?"

Bucky shook his head before resting his elbows on his knees, looking at the metal with intrigue.

"My claws were bone back then; was born with them. Sometime in my life, Stryker found out, and you know the rest. Got pumped with adamantium and here I am now."

Logan glanced down at the claws before they retracted with a loud noise, and Bucky pursed his lips slightly before asking.

"Does it ever stop feeling like they don't belong?"

Logan was quiet for a moment, regarding Bucky with a thoughtful look on his face before he replied.

"Sometimes. Everyone's got good days and bad days, kid."

Bucky glanced away before looking back as Logan added.

"When it comes to belonging...well, nobody really belongs anywhere. It just matters that you go where you know someone's got your back when shit goes wrong."

Bucky sat back in his seat before muttering.

"I never thought I'd find an old man as fucked up as me."

"Fuck you."

Bucky snorted, and Logan couldn't help but to smirk a bit before offering his cigar to Bucky. However, Bucky scrunched his nose up in disgust, shaking his head.

"No thanks. I don't smoke."

"I don't really smoke them for the taste."

Bucky raised his eyebrow, asking.

"Then why do you smoke them?"

Logan tilted his head slightly, stating.

"Got a heightened sense of smell because of my mutation. Smoking masks all the different scents. If I don't have something to mask all the smell, it gives me a migraine."

Bucky nodded after a moment, replying.

"It's probably not as strong as yours, but I also have a pretty good nose because of the serum. Got pretty good hearing too."

"It comes in handy when you wanna eavesdrop."

Bucky snorted again, shaking his head before quipping lightheartedly.

"Well, unlike some people, I try to be respectful."

"Don't effect me."

Bucky shook his head, and the two men sat in silence for a moment before Bucky stated gently, looking over at Logan with a sincere expression.

"Listen...thanks for...being here."

Logan was quiet for a moment before he replied.

"Don't mention it. Gotta look out for one another."

-MEDBAY-

The room was cold and quiet; the hum of different bits of machinery running droning in the background. (Y/n) was lying on the table, eyes closed and covered in a light sheen of blue from the machinery above her.

Small bandages were placed upon her face, soft sensory nodes attached to keep an eye on her brainwave activity, and although Tony's technology had helped to heal most of her face; it wasn't able to touch the bone.

Tony was standing nearby the table, his arms crossed and face stoic. His fingers were steepling against his arm as he watched her vitals, and Hank was busy with adjusting some things within the diagnostic tray located at the end of the bed.

At the head of the bed, Strange was mumbling softly to himself as his fingers slowly spun in a circle above (Y/n)'s sternum; runes faintly glowing across his fingers as he worked.

Just outside of the Medbay and watching through the window, Charles was sitting with a hand to his chin; his face expressionless as he thought to himself. Peter was sitting nearby with his knees to his chest, his arms wrapped around his legs and a sad look on his face. Wanda was holding a comforting hand to his shoulder, watching as (Y/n) slept.

Sam was leaning against the doorway, his arms crossed and a frown on his face. He was staring down at the ground, feeling almost shameful as Sam tapped his foot almost impatiently. Ororo was standing near him, her eyes empathetic as she glanced at Sam, and Hank's voice made everyone immediately perk up.

"Her vitals are stabilizing and steady, but there's some activity in the hippocampus. It's...almost like something is looping."

He scratched his head slightly, and Tony stated, frowning as he looked over Hank's shoulder.

"I've seen this before at Shuri's lab in Wakanda. It's the failsafe...probably trying to reactivate."

Strange shook his head, his eyes still closed as he replied.

"It's because of the rift within her mind. The bridge between her body and her mind is still quite large, and we need to work fast on getting this failsafe deprogrammed quickly."

Charles hummed to himself before stating, rubbing a hand to his chin once more.

"Theoretically, we could keep her in a sleeping state until we are able to do so."

Peter quirked his eyebrow up, asking.

"You mean like...Sleeping Beauty?"

Charles nodded, and Sam just huffed.

"Just tell us what we need to do. We can't leave her like this, and Bucky's going to run himself down into the ground if this goes on for any longer."

Wanda glanced at Sam, asking with a frown.

"Where is he? It might be a stretch, but...perhaps he could be the one to start mending that rift."

Charles shook his head, stating quietly.

"When I went into her mind...it was like the Winter Soldier was a completely different entity. I've never seen anything like it. It's...almost as though HYDRA made the Winter Soldier persona have autonomy."

Ororo was confused, tilting her head as she asked incredulously.

"A different entity? How is that even possible?"

Strange sighed, his hands lowering as he shook his head a bit, and he glanced at the window as he explained.

"It's not an entirely different entity nor is it just programming, but a splintered consciousness. That thing inside her mind—the Winter Soldier—it’s not merely a persona. It's a parasite, carved out of trauma and forced obedience. Had I known this sooner, I would have never let her bond with it."

Strange shook his head, hands on his hips as a slightly guilty look came over him. Wanda shook her head, stating gently.

"Nobody could have anticipated this. HYDRA has been improving their methods for years and creating heinous schemes like this since the beginning. We would have never thought that they would do something like this, however."

Ororo looked confused, asking as she stepped forward a bit, her eyes glancing at (Y/n) as the woman slept peacefully on the table.

"A parasite? What do you mean?"

Strange glanced at the woman, explaining with a tilt of his head as he looked back down at (Y/n).

"Something like that. When HYDRA fracture her psyche by activating this failsafe, they didn't just bury her memories or her identity. HYDRA anchored the programming to her limbic system and into her emotional core. They fed it pain until it grew teeth, and now it functions as a separate self. Like a weaponized and homicidal echo."

Charles frowned before entering the Medbay and stopping right near (Y/n)'s head, his lips pursed as he added.

"Caused by trauma, and reinforced with repetition."

"Exactly. That's why none of us have been able to reach (Y/n) within her mind. The Soldier is acting like a gatekeeper, and anybody that tries to intrude, it will act accordingly."

Hank hummed, holding a hand to his chin then.

"This is all so fascinating...and it explains why they would need to install the failsafe within her actual genetic makeup. Altering the brain chemistry just enough for it almost cause Dissociative Identity Disorder, and reinforcing that other identity to be strong enough to keep the light from (Y/n)."

Sam rubbed his face, asking.

"So, we're dealing with a Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde?"

"That's a bit of a distasteful analogy, but yes."

Strange confirmed, and Peter suddenly stood up, stating with a slight shyness to his voice.

"I’ve been watching the neuro-imaging patterns since she's been here. It seems as though the failsafe’s triggered by a feedback loop through the hippocampus and amygdala—her memory and fear centers. When she feels threatened or out of control, the code reboots."

Ororo looked surprised, asking.

"So, it's triggered by her fear?"

Peter nodded, wringing his hands a bit more as he explained further.

"Fear, pain, trauma. HYDRA basically… booby-trapped her emotions. But if we sequence her current gene expression, we can isolate the epigenetic markers that respond to those triggers."

Hank's eyes lit up with awe, and Tony couldn't help but to nod in pride before adding as he clapped Peter on the shoulder.

"So, then let's engineer something that can isolate those epigenetic markers without wiping clean the slate."

Hank pointed out, his foot tapping almost impatiently as he spoke.

"We'll need some type of technology that can deliver the protein directly to the hippocampus, and a fast-track simulation. She's not stable enough for trial and error."

Wanda suggested, shrugging her shoulders.

"Perhaps we should tell Princess Shuri. With her tech combined with Tony's and with a team of skilled scientists, you might be able to completely reverse everything HYDRA has done while Strange, Charles, and I can work on her psyche and suppressing the Soldier."

Just then, the doors to the Medbay opened, and in walked Logan and Bucky. Bucky was avoiding eye contact with everybody in the room, and he instead walked to stand beside (Y/n). His face was almost expressionless until it softened as he watched her sleep.

"What's the plan?"

Tony pursed his lips a bit before he stated.

"We're gonna engineer some nanotech that's gonna try to isolate her epigenetic markers where the failsafe has been integrated and deliver the protein directly to the hippocampus. Well do a fast-track simulation beforehand, however, just in case something happens so we can perfect the system."

Bucky nodded before Charles stated.

"While they are doing that, Ms. Maximoff, Doctor Strange, and I will work on her psyche and start mending the bridge between her identity and her mind itself. She is essentially locked within her own mind because of this Winter Soldier persona. HYDRA was able to make it almost autonomous, so it is acting as a gatekeeper."

Bucky looked up, frowning in confusion.

"Wait, did you say it became autonomous? How is that possible?"

Strange stepped forward, crossing his arms as he stared down at (Y/n) before looking over at Bucky.

"Think of the mind as an endless hallway of rooms. Normally, a person's identity is the building that houses these rooms. HYDRA, however, didn't just create its own room in her mind. They built a prison around the identity as a whole and gave the jailer free will. It's not autonomous like you and me, but it's growing close. The programmed instincts that were reinforced over the years, the trauma and abuse...it gave it permanence while repetition gave it power."

Charles then spoke, Wanda nodding along with him.

"And fear gave it control."

Despite Bucky still being a bit confused, he was slowly grasping what Strange was saying. However, Strange noticed that Bucky didn't entirely understand and sighed heavy.

"(Y/n)'s Mind equals Castle. Identity equals Room. HYDRA equals Moat around the Castle. Winter Soldier Identity equals Jailor keeping (Y/n)'s Identity as a hostage. Do you understand or do I need to break out the crayons?"

Bucky glared at Strange, muttering.

"No thanks, Jackass, I got it."

Strange ignored the curse, shaking his head before looking down at (Y/n) again. He began to explain more, rubbing his chin thoughtfully.

"HYDRA shaped this identity with such ruthless precision that it behaves like an independent consciousness. Not sentient, but reflexive...almost like a psychic immune response."

Tony cut in, shrugging his shoulders a little as he glanced at Bucky.

"It doesn’t question orders. It only protects itself and prevents anything that might unravel its purpose. Including her."

Bucky and Tony shared a quiet look before Bucky glanced down at (Y/n) again, stating with a frown.

"So, in order to get (Y/n) back, we have to get past this...thing."

Tony nodded, and Charles seemed intrigued before asking.

"Forgive me for asking, Sergeant Barnes, but...what was it like for you when you were in the Winter Soldier state?"

Bucky felt on-the-spot, a strange sensation of embarrassment going through him, and Bucky swallowed thickly before stating quietly.

"It's like you're drowning, but you're aware that something is wrong. Everything gets muffled when you're activated, and you can't do anything but obey. Your instincts are sharpened, but there's a part that wants to run...and that part gets weaker the more time goes by that you're locked in the Winter Soldier state unless something happens to jog your memory, like me and Steve."

Bucky glanced down at his metal hand, whispering softly.

"I remember watching my hands do things I couldn’t stop; hearing commands and obeying without question. It wasn’t just physical… It was like my soul was sitting in the back seat, chained up, and I was watching the outside world from a window."

Charles nodded before he stated quietly.

"When I reached her, it was freezing. She was locked in a cage that was covered in snow and ice...and there were parts of her that were disappearing into a mirror. Every mind is different, but hers...felt lonely. And then, the Winter Soldier came."

His words were vague, but Bucky understood what he was implying. The room became a bit quiet as Charles seemed to become a bit emotional, Hank placing his hand on Charles' shoulder comfortingly as the Professor spoke.

"She is such a lonely child. There was hardly any hope within her. I am...I am afraid that we will be too late."

Strange was looking down at (y/n) with a softened expression, and he shook his head.

"We won't be too late. There is a possibility that we can use to give us more time."

Tony glanced over at Strange, frowning heavily.

"You're not implying what I think you are, right?"

Strange nodded as he glanced at Tony.

"If used precisely—and sparingly—the Stone can help stabilize the time dilation within her psyche. The failsafe is locked in a feedback loop. To us, it’s been minutes. But to her, it could feel like years. That kind of distortion can fracture a person completely. We won't know for sure how this failsafe is working, however, until we are able to get inside of her mind because of the growing disconnect between her and her physical body."

Wanda's expression grew thoughtful as she nodded slightly.

"If we slow it down… we’ll have more control over the environment inside her mind."

Charles added, looking at Strange as the Doctor nodded to him slightly.

"And we’ll be able to move more freely inside the mental plane without triggering deeper defenses, if I am to understand this correctly."

Sam perked up, however, asking as Logan scratched his head with confusion on his face as he tried to understand everything.

"What are the drawbacks?"

Strange then shrugged, stating.

"Well, one of us could die within her mindscape because of the Winter Soldier, something could go wrong and cause her whole entire mind to collapse and render her braindead, we could accidentally erase her identity and leave just the soldier. You know, the works."

Sam gave Strange an exasperated look, and Bucky sighed.

"Listen, I don't care what we do as long as we get (Y/n) back. There's no room for failure."

Bucky then looked at Strange with a firm look on his face.

"None."

"I can't exactly control what happens."

Bucky wasn't exactly satisfied with the answer, and Peter spoke up quietly, making everyone in the room look at him.

"What about the other Avengers? Shouldn't we let them know what's going on?"

Bucky shook his head, glancing at Peter as the young man looked at Bucky with a worried expression.

"If we tell the rest of the Avengers, then there's a chance that they are going to want answers that we don't have, disagree with what we're doing, or tell us to wait. We can't waste any time whatsoever right now."

Peter pursed his lips before nodding, and Charles comforted Peter with a gentle nod of his head.

"We will inform them, but after we make the first move. Time is of the essence."

Peter was satisfied with their answer before he sat up a little straighter after glancing down at (Y/n) for a moment. Strange stepped forward then, pulling the Eye of Agamotto from within his robes, and his voice became solemn as he spoke.

"If we do this, then we must enter with intent, with control, and with anchors. If you lose focus, you will get lost. If that happens, I cannot guarantee success."

The room was quiet; tensions rising, and Bucky pursed his lips as he hovered over (Y/n). Her eyes were still closed, her face still and slightly sweating, and Bucky's voice was an amalgamation of grit and steady grief.

"We'll succeed."

Strange looked at him, then at Wanda and Charles.

"Then let us begin."

Charles, Wanda, and Strange all came to stand around (Y/n). Strange was at the head of the table above her head with Wanda and Charles on either of her sides, and the Eye of Agamotto began to glow green. A circle appeared over (Y/n)'s chest, and runes began to climb up over the walls like ivy. The lights began to flicker, a strange whispering filling the room, and Strange instructed.

"We must conjoin hands to create a link between us all. Stark, Hank, Peter, you all must begin the physical deprogramming of the failsafe once we are all inside."

Peter sprung up from his seat to assist Tony and Hank as the two men began to prepare, and Strange took a calming and focusing deep breath, his eyes closing as Wanda, Charles, Bucky conjoined hands. Strange then reached out, grabbing a hold of Wanda and Charles, and he murmured as the link began to form.

"Remember and anchor yourself to (Y/n). Her scent, her presence, her voice, anything that can help you to stay focused."

Bucky was nervous before his eyes closed, and a strange sensation of being pulled began to tug at him. He was still sitting as far as he was aware, but Bucky was beginning to feel weightless. Suddenly, Strange stated before a huge force seemed to tug on Bucky's whole body.

"Prepare yourselves, and do not resist."

Bucky's grip on Wanda and Charles tightened, his jaw clenching as his lips curled back and his eyes scrunched shut even tighter. The second that the spell snapped shut, the four of them were gone; a gust of wind entering the lab as they disappeared.

-(Y/N)'S MIND-

The second that the group landed within her mind, there was a heaviness that befell the group. It was a mix of fear, pain, danger, and a strange sensation of dread. It was a feeling of 'we're not supposed to be here,' and it was permeating through every bone, every muscle, and every part of their minds.

Bucky and Strange instantly recognized where they were, and Charles and Wanda were both trying to gather their bearings. Bucky and Strange frowned heavily when they noticed that something was wrong.

The light brown wallpaper that had adorned the cozy living room was stained with black mold and ripped in places. The entertainment center was still the same, but the TV was playing simple static; the TV glitching slightly as if it was a projection. The coffee table was splintered in certain places, the Bible that was open now completely blank of words, and the lavender and vanilla candle that had been burning was snuffed out.

Despite the slight desolation of the room, there was still sunlight filtering through the windows; echoes of a Doris Day record playing, but it was warped; the record sounding as though it was skipping every few seconds.

Wanda and Charles felt extremely uncomfortable, but Strange was on guard while Bucky was frowning and glancing around the mindscape.

All of a sudden, there was a distant whisper coming from the hallway that led into the kitchen, and Strange and Bucky shared a look. It sounded like (Y/n)'s voice, but nobody in the room could make out what was being said.

"I must admit that this is....incredibly unsettling."

Wanda walked up to the pictures that were on the wall, her fingers coming up to touch the faceless people in the pictures, and Bucky frowned deeply when he noticed that (Y/n) was missing from some of the pictures.

"We should keep moving."

Strange muttered, feeling his hackles rise with every moment he stood in the room, and Charles asked him.

"Do you feel that presence? It's...it's as if the Soldier is watching us."

Strange stated cryptically as Bucky rested his hand on his sidearm despite the gun having no real use.

"That's because they are. We need to move quickly."

Wanda's fingers filtered through the sunlight peeking through the blinds, muttering with fascination.

"The sunlight isn't real...it's...cold."

Her words hung heavy, and Strange walked to the hallway before pausing. Bucky joined him, and he muttered.

"That definitely isn't how it's supposed to be."

Instead of the hallway leading into the kitchen, it was elongated. Doors were on either side of the walls, shut tight and dark shadows bleeding beneath the frames. The end of the hallway seemed to open to a completely different living room that neither Strange nor Bucky had ever seen before, and Strange's hand began to glow orange as he mumbled a quick protection spell over the group.

The TV suddenly began to emit feedback, everyone looking back as whispers came through; sounding distorted and angry.

"Оставлять." (leave)

Bucky and Strange shared a look, and the two muttered.

"We should probably listen."

"Good idea. Let's go."

The group began to walk down the hallway carefully, Strange lighting the way with his magic, and as they left, a reflection in one of the picture frames showed a fifth person that wasn't with them; a woman in a white lab coat and covered in blood and soot and two crushed legs watching them as they left.

When the group made it into the new living room, Bucky frowned and glanced around. It looked as though it was from the 70's, a conversation pit in the corner of the room where another TV was settled; frozen on a still of President Eisenhower when he was giving his speech on modernizing the Atomic Energy Act of 1946. The screen was glitching, replaying the same moment over and over again.

There was a record player sitting against the wall just beside the TV, and the needle to the player was glitching; no music coming through this time. The kitchen looked as though it had been burned; scorch marks all over the walls and a strange, black fog covering the floor.

The decorations on the walls looked incomplete; some of the decorations looking as though they were glitched with other pieces of the decorations. There was a picture on the wall that had a half of a chair coming through it, and Wanda muttered.

"It's...almost like a video game that is glitching. I've never seen anything like this before."

Charles replied as he moved closer to the picture, inspecting the chair and becoming perturbed when he noticed a blood stain on the seat.

"It is a representation of how fractured her mind has become. Memories are becoming warped...forgotten."

Bucky was quiet, glancing around before his eyes became drawn to the hallway that was turned completely upside down and slowly gyrating. The house was creaking loudly, as if there was a force moving the home back and forth like a skyscraper, and Bucky felt strangely sick to his stomach.

"This might be where (Y/n) grew up with Robert and Doris. She hasn't told me if she remembers this place...but it wouldn't surprise me if she doesn't want to remember it."

Suddenly, there was a voice that echoed around them, making the group become tense and put their hands up as if they were ready to fight.

'You are going to go into science whether you like it or not!'

'I don't want to!'

Shards of mirrors suddenly came shooting from the walls, the environment darkening as the sound of a woman sobbing echoed around them. Bucky, however, didn't recognize the voice, and he clenched his jaw.

"I really don't like this."

Wanda's hands were glowing, red whisps flowing around her hands as she stated.

"Reality here is becoming incoherent. It seems as though she is collapsing. The longer that we stay in a certain mindscape, the longer the memory and metaphors begin to blur."

Charles placed his fingers to his temples, closing his eyes for a moment before he stated grimly.

"I cannot reach her very well still...but it feels as though she is losing herself. She has nothing to hold onto...we must tether ourselves."

A low rumble passed through the floor as the hallway’s rotation slowed, clicking unnaturally into place as it settled upside down. At its entrance, a child's voice echoed faintly, whispering like a breeze through trees.

'Don't go in there. He's still in the basement.'

The walls flickered, the scorched kitchen glitching into a sepia-toned 1950s kitchenette and then back again, and Bucky swallowed thickly before asking.

"So, how the hell do we tether and to what?"

Strange glanced back at Bucky with a thoughtful gaze, stating.

"The one thing that she has held onto closely is Rebecca. We can try to tether to that core memory, but it's risky."

Bucky was looking at Strange with a firm look, muttering.

"You're the expert here. I'm just along for the ride."

Strange's hands lit up again, and he mumbled to himself as he began to tether the group to the memory of Rebecca, but the house began to shake; the TV beginning to give extreme feedback. The record began to play a distorted track, but Bucky wasn't able to tell what it was as different songs turned into a mess of one; playing over one another. Strange winced and let the spell dissipate, stating.

"The Soldier already has a hold of it. There's no way to do this the easy way."

Wanda sighed heavily, glancing around uneasily as dust came falling from the ceiling.

"As long as we stick together, we should be fine."

Strange began to lead the group down the hallway, but int he corner of his eye, he watched as a small child ran across the shards of mirrors before disappearing. Swallowing thickly, Strange pursed his lips before continuing.

At the end of the hallway was the door to the basement, and there was dirt covering the ground by the door. Strange knelt down as he gently touched the dirt, feeling the soft coldness of the earth, and he noticed a footprint within the dirt. Glancing back up, Strange glanced to his left to look directly into (Y/n)'s childhood room. The door was wide open, glitching as half of the door suddenly became sideways every few seconds.

His blood ran still for a moment as he noticed a child's face glancing at him from around the corner, and Strange shot up. Bucky was perturbed, asking as Strange watched the child disappear around the wall.

"What? What is it?"

"Nothing. We need to keep moving."

Strange reached for the door to the basement, and the door opened, leading to a cramped staircase. Leaves and dirt and twigs were littering the steps, and the further down the group went, the more that wood turned into moss and grass. When they made it down into the basement, they were startled to find that it wasn't a basement at all.

They were now standing in the woods, a menacing greenish gold light filtering through the trees. It was twilight, the mindscape lit up just enough for the group to see where they were going, and Bucky instantly felt sick to his stomach.

"I know these woods."

Charles hummed, moving to sit beside Bucky as the man kept a stone-cold expression as he glanced around the wooded area.

"Meltzer Woods."

Wanda made a face as her boot sunk a bit into mud, and she shook the mud off with a grimace as she glanced around.

"This is one of the first few places that (Y/n) remembered, is it not?"

Bucky nodded, and he glanced at the trail that led deeper into the woods, gnarled vines and thorns covering the path.

"Yeah. She used to hang out with my sister here a lot."

Strange was uneasy, glancing around the woods as the light of the twilight sun seemed to spin around them slowly as if it was an inverted lighthouse. Suddenly, a voice came filtering through as the woods seemed to begin curling in on itself.

'I just want to be me!'

Fire burst into the mindscape, Wanda yelping, and Bucky flinched as Strange's eyes widened slightly. The door behind them slammed shut, splinting in on itself as it seemed to get sucked into a void of nothingness, and the smell of gasoline and melting rubber met their noses.

"Time to go."

Strange immediately began to levitate and fly down the trail. Wanda assisted Charles and Bucky, using her powers to lift them both and follow after Strange as the woods behind them erupted into flame, collapsing in on itself as screams of pain and horror echoed around them.

'Mom! Wake up! Please!'

The sound of metal twisting sounded around the group, and Bucky was panicking slightly as he felt unsteady, not used to being levitated as he was. He was struggling to stay vertical, waving his hands a bit, and Strange had to dodge around flying car parts that were slamming down into the ground.

Blood began to ebb and bubble up from the ground, old photos and broken children's toys appearing through, and there were journal papers starting to fly around chaotically. The light in the woods turned a deep and angry red as more mirror shards shot up through the ground, and if Bucky looked hard enough, he could see a reflection of (Y/n) in one of them.

She was simply watching and staring as they levitated away. Blood was running down her face, her eyes hollow and empty, and her mouth was closed in a firm line. She was in the clothes she had worn while at Wakanda, and he was horrified to find that mirror shards were coming out of her body as well; frostbite affecting different parts of her body, and Bucky exclaimed.

"Wait, that was (Y/n)!"

Strange hissed out, going faster.

"No, it wasn't. Anything that you see here is not going to be (Y/n). It's the Soldier trying to bait you to separate. Do not believe anything that you see!"

Strange became unsettled as his hands began to tremble, his brows furrowing as he grit his teeth.

This wasn't real. His hands were steady. That wasn't Christine's voice that he was hearing.

'I can't do this anymore, Stephen.'

Strange was becoming irritated, and the group was in a similar state. Wanda was biting her lip, her powers flickering slightly as she heard a voice she hadn't heard in a very long time.

'What, you didn't see this coming? You should have known.'

No, it wasn't her brother. There was no possible way. This was just a defense mechanism that was activating. They had to keep going.

Charles was wincing heavily, clutching a hand to his head as he attempted to block the voices of children that he couldn't save and help, their cries echoing through his mind painfully.

'Why couldn't you save us? Why did you let us suffer?'

No. No, this wasn't real. He had to stay calm and tethered. He was trying to block the voices, but it was becoming difficult. However, for a second, the voices quieted, and Charles was subtly surprised to see Wanda holding his hand with a pained expression as they continued to fly down the trail of Meltzer Woods.

Bucky, however, was horrified as he heard Rebecca's voice echo around, screaming and begging for him not to hurt her. If he looked in the woods, he could see a distant mirage through the trees of him as the Winter Soldier; standing over Rebecca with a pistol aimed at her head. She was bloodied and broken, and her head turned from looking up at the Winter Soldier to stare directly into his eyes with fear.

Then, the mimic of him turned as well, but instead of his face, it was a black shadow, and he cried out when the mimic pulled the trigger. Bucky was losing it, and Strange grabbed a hold of Bucky's shoulder, glancing at him with a harsh expression.

"Get it together. You need to stay calm! It's not real!"

Bucky was starting to hyperventilate slightly, and the mindscape responded. The jagged mirrors became even more jagged, the branches of the trees gnarling, and the blood coming up from the ground became hot; steaming in the coldness that was starting to grow within the atmosphere.

His hand came to his dog tags, clutching onto them tightly, and the warmth of the metal was grounding enough for his breathing to steady just the slightest. A distant air-raid siren began to sound, and the trees began to snap; the dense forest becoming a desolate land of anger and instinct, and Bucky's muscles were tensed so painfully that he almost felt like stone.

Up ahead, Strange could see a door that looked like a metal cell door. It was cracked open, white fluorescent light flickering through the crack, and he announced.

"There's a door up ahead!"

Wanda's hand burst with red light as her power activated, and she let out a cry as she yanked the door open. The second the group made it through the door, Strange slammed it shut, the sound of the woods crashing into the door made everyone's blood run cold. However, the door barely budged; standing firm.

Bucky dropped to the ground, stumbling down to his knees as he heaved in one breath after another. The sound of the gunshot was ringing through his mind, the image of Rebecca dying replaying in his mind like a broken record, and a hand on his shoulder made Bucky look up. Charles was looking down at him, a soft yet tense look on his face as he murmured softly.

"That part of you is done. Remember your sunlight."

Instantly, an image of (Y/n) went through Bucky's mind, and he swallowed thickly before wiping his face of the tears that had fallen down his bearded face. Bucky slowly stumbled up, and Charles took his hand from Bucky's shoulder. When Bucky turned around, however, his jaw clenched.

They were in a HYDRA lab. Equipment and diagnostic machines were littered around the room, cabinets full of different colored chemicals lining the walls. There was a strange black substance on the floor, and Bucky was perturbed to see elements of the previous environments within the room as well.

The record player from the unknown home, broken pictures from Aunt Mavi's house, leaves, twigs, and dirt from Meltzer Woods, and a snuffed out lavender and vanilla candle that was half melted; glass and all.

In the middle of the room was a mind chair, and the group froze when they noticed a completely black shadow sitting in the chair. Strange immediately brought his hands up, orange encasing his fists, and Wanda's eyes lit up red as she glared at the shadow. Bucky's metal arm whirred as the plates shifted to reinforce his arm, but Charles was the only one who didn't seem worried.

Slowly, Charles brought his chair to the front of the group, Strange glancing at him and blinking wildly as Charles approached the shadow.

"What the hell are you doing?"

Charles didn't answer Strange. Instead, Charles stopped halfway from the shadowy figure sitting in the Mind Chair, tilting his head slightly. Suddenly, a warbled voice hissed; echoing around the group as the shadow slowly stood up.

'You overstepped, and now you'll crawl back under whatever rock you came from and wait to be told when to breathe.'

The shadow was glitching, its head twitching sideways every now and then; bones cracking with every twitch, and Charles just stared at it before he started quietly.

"You are so full of hurt, dear girl."

The shadow paused for a second, and Bucky frowned heavily as it began to take on a more apparent shape; shrinking down slightly. Charles didn't hesitate, coming closer a bit more as he murmured.

"What they did to you was unfair."

Disembodied sobs began to echo around the room, cracks appearing in the walls and the ceiling, and the lights flickered slightly. Mirror shards shot through various parts of the room, and when Bucky breathed out, his breath was becoming visible. Snow began to fall from nowhere, and the shadow shrunk more.

"It was never your fault, (Y/n)."

The shadow clutched at its head, a distorted scream coming from it, and Charles spoke louder this time.

"You never deserved any of this. But you can choose to be more...to become more than what they did...than what your father did."

The screams got louder until the lights suddenly shattered. The room was plunged into darkness for a moment before the room mysteriously lit up, and instead of the shadow, there was a little girl standing in front of the mind chair.

Bucky's eyes widened as he looked at (Y/n), her childish face wet and full of tears as she cried softly. Charles' expression softened, and he came closer to her.

"What is the matter?"

(Y/n) sniffled before she cried out.

"Why? Why didn't Daddy ever want to play with me?"

Charles' expression became sad, and Strange was on edge, a foreboding feeling beginning to fill him.

"Professor, back away."

Charles, however, didn't listen. Instead, the man simply looked down at (Y/n), stating softly.

"Your father valued something for more greater...something that cost him something far more precious than all the recognition and power in the world."

(Y/n) balled her fists and held them to her eyes, sniffling as she whimpered.

"I don't like it here. They do mean things to me. I want to go home."

Charles sighed softly, and he whispered softly.

"I understand."

Suddenly, the image of (Y/n) froze for a moment, and Charles' expression became grim. Wanda's eyes widened, and she exclaimed as she let out a powerful blast that was aimed at the apparition.

"Professor, get back!"

Suddenly, a gloved hand ripped through the girl's chest, blood splattering on the ground, and Bucky watched in horror as the Winter Soldier clawed and climbed out from within the body. Bones cracked and limbs became limp as the soldier made its way out, and when the Winter Soldier stood up; her limbs healed and shifted back into place.

Charles was wide-eyed as he looked at the Winter Soldier before he frowned heavily and held two fingers to his temple. The Winter Soldier was frozen in place for a moment, and it allowed Charles to move back as Strange instantly murmured a spell. Orange runes wrapped around the Winter Soldier, but the soldier cracked through the spells.

Her eyes never left Bucky's. Bucky didn't know what to make of the scene at first, the child body of (Y/n) turning into dust and fading away over the soldier's shoulder, and Bucky frowned heavily. Wanda levitated a metal table, launching it at the soldier. The table hit, knocking the soldier back a few steps, and a deep growl echoed around them.

The snow began to become heavier, the room becoming colder, and the mirror shards were starting to crack, blood pouring down along the edges. Red light was being reflected from the mirrors, and Bucky could see the different mindscapes from all of the shards in the room. Just as Strange went to launch another attack, the soldier grabbed a chair and threw it at him. In the moment that Strange took to deflect the chair, the soldier launched herself at Bucky.

Bucky met the ground-shaking punch by blocking it with his metal arm, and he threw an uppercut, missing the soldier by an inch as she threw her head back.

The force of Bucky’s missed uppercut blew the snow into a brief spiral, scattering the frost off the ground. The woman snarled, the sound coming from deep within her chest, and she swung again. This time, however, she landed the blow, and Bucky went skidding backwards across the black ink-slicked floors. Wanda shouted, her voice breaking as she sent a red whip of magic towards the soldier's legs.

"She's locked completely in!"

Before the magic could reach the soldier, however, the soldier stepped into one of the black puddles and disappeared into it in a whisp of black smoke. Instantly, Wanda, Charles, Strange, and Bucky grouped together; back to back and looking around at the floors. The room was beginning to groan as if the building was shifting, and suddenly, the Soldier's hand shot out from one of the puddles and wrapped painfully around Bucky's ankle.

She was trying to pull him in, and Wanda quickly shot another red whip at her wrist. It wrapped tight, forcing the soldier to lose her grip only for the Soldier to snap it with brute force, shards of red magic cracking like glass.

“She’s not just locked in. She's in control here. We're fighting on her terms."

Charles stated as he watched the soldier's arm disappear back into the puddle, and Strange frowned heavily as he began to murmur.

"We need to flush her out. Wanda, can you cover the puddles?"

Wanda nodded and began to move furniture over the puddles, her eyes red and sweat pearling at her brow. She was starting to become fatigued, and Bucky shot his gaze to the only puddle left in the room that was in front of the Mind Chair. The black puddle bubbled, and the Soldier came crawling out with an annoyed growl.

Because of the fury that was running through the soldier, the mirror shards around the room began to flicker like water before showing different images.

One was of (Y/n) in the Mind Chair while in the process of being wiped, her screams echoing throughout the room. Another shard showed (Y/n) training with a gun in her hand, taking the gun apart and putting it back together as fast as she could. Another showed (Y/n) sobbing under ice water, writing with Rebecca, being raped by Rollins.

It was horrific and daunting, and Bucky had to shake his head to stay focused. Bucky gritted his teeth, forcing himself to stand tall as he faced the Winter Soldier with a stoic expression.

"I'm not fighting you. You don't want to do this."

The soldier lunged at him, the murderous intent vivid as she raised a knife towards Bucky. Bucky, however, didn't raise his fists to continue fighting. Instead, Bucky grabbed onto her wrists and pushed back while hissing out roughly.

"This isn't who you are anymore."

His teeth were clenched, and Bucky locked eyes with the soldier despite the frost crusting her eyelashes.

"You know me. You know I've been where you are. I am where you are, but I got out, and you can too. You don't have to stay here!"

The soldier froze, but just for a second. Her eye twitched, a flickering echoing through them, and she lunged back before a gun materialized within her hand. It flickered and glitched; unstable, but it didn't matter to the soldier. Pointing it at Bucky, her voice was small; sounding almost muffled and distorted as she asked.

"Тогда почему мне все еще больно? Почему мне все еще так холодно?" (Then why do I still hurt? Why am I still so cold?)

Bucky's eyes softened, and he whispered to the soldier.

"Because just like me...you forgot the sunlight too...somewhere along the way, you forgot...but you told me that even if you forgot the sunlight, you wanted to remember that you chose to stand in it. Don't you remember?"

The soldier seemed to glitch a bit, a pained expression coming across her eyes, and the gun within her hand began to falter; shards of glass shooting out from the metal, and Bucky pushed forward.

"It's time to let her go."

The Winter Soldier shot her gaze up, an angry look on her face as she exclaimed.

"Отпустить? Отпустить? Те, кому нужно отпустить, это ты!" (Let go? Let go? The ones who need to let go are you!)

Suddenly, the ground split open beneath them; jagged edges tearing across the floor like veins. The lab twisted, warping into a horrendous medley of half-woods, half-cell; shards of every memory colliding into one another, spinning in the mirrors like a storm. Strange yelled a warning to Bucky, and the man brought his hands up to shield his face from the blistering cold wind.

"I can't do that."

Bucky shook his head, and the Soldier let out an angered cry, lunging at him again. Her movements, however, were desperate; sloppy and wild. She was leaving herself open, and Bucky grabbed onto her hands again. Instead of pushing back, however, Bucky embraced her tightly.

She began to yell, beating and thrashing against him as she continued to yell in Russian, and Bucky held onto her tightly, whispering.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry that I couldn't save you."

The soldier faltered for a moment, and she then bit down onto his shoulder harshly; teeth sinking in and blood bursting around the soldier's teeth. Bucky winced, but just held on as tightly as he could.

"I'm sorry that you never had the life that you wanted."

She was starting to tear at his skin, and Bucky grit his teeth in pain before he exclaimed.

"I'm sorry that I let you forget."

Tears filled Bucky's eyes as he whispered in pain before her teeth began to release his shoulder.

"Please...please don't leave me too."

The soldier was frozen, limp within his arms, and she cried softly.

"I don't know who I am anymore."

However, before Bucky could say anything more, the soldier's body slowly began to turn into dust; materializing into nothing. The mindscape slowly began to settle, the furniture no longer glitching, the mirror shards slowly retreating out of existence, and the room was no longer as freezing cold as it had been.

Just behind the Mind Chair, a cell door slowly opened up. However, Charles, Strange, and Wanda were all taking breathers as Bucky looked down at his hands that still held a few pieces of dust of the soldier; a solemn look on his face and the pain in his shoulder beginning to ebb up his neck.

The pain in the soldier's voice had been genuine, and Bucky was taken back to a time when he, too, was distraught over his inability to remember his life before HYDRA after reuniting Steve albeit with hostility.

Her eyes had held so much pain and grief that it had rattled him deeply. Clenching his fist, Bucky's nostrils flared and he took a deep breath, his voice rough as he stalked towards the cell door.

"We need to keep moving."

Wanda glanced at him, asking.

"Bucky, are you alright?"

Bucky paused for a moment before he answered.

"I just want to find her. If we stay here any longer, something else might happen. We don't know what Tony and the others have been able to accomplish yet. If they haven't been able to deactivate the failsafe, we're just sitting ducks and waiting for the next round."

Strange nodded a long, stating.

"Bucky's right. If we can reach (Y/n), then we might be able to have a better chance at subduing the Winter Soldier again if she reappears."

Charles hummed, nodding as his eyes glanced around the lab; watching as the last puddle of ink slowly disappeared into nothing.

"Yes, I agree. If we reach (Y/n) before another possible reactivation loop, then we might be able to break her free of the chains that bind her."

Wanda was quiet, subtly wiping her nose free of blood that had begun to trickle down; wincing slightly as she stumbled a bit. Strange glanced at her, concern in his eyes before he looked at Charles.

"If there is even a her left."

Charles gave Strange a disapproving look, but Strange didn't pay any attention to him. He was watching Bucky and the way his fists were clenched, his balance swaying slightly from the pain, and Strange pursed his lips into a thin line.

The trio began to follow after Bucky, and Bucky wasted no time in swinging the cell door open. Charles' eyes widened, and he stated quietly as he looked at the room.

"This...this is where I reached her."

Bucky shivered slightly at the freezing temperature of the room, frost and ice covering every surface. There were complete mirrors all around the room, some blackened and some covered with frost; obscuring the image within, and snow was falling down from the ceiling.

Bucky's breath left his chest as he laid eyes upon (Y/n), who was lying on her side and slowly being covered by the snow. A distant echo of the singing voice of Doris Day was gyrating around the room, and (Y/n)'s frostbitten lips were subtly mouthing the lyrics.

Bucky made his way towards (Y/n), and while he did, the snow and frost beneath his boots began to melt; lush green grass slowly starting to sprout. Bucky ran to the cell door of the cage, but when he tried to use his right hand to rip the cage door off, he yelped when bars burned him from how cold they were.

Instead, Bucky grabbed with his left arm and gave a loud yell as he single-handedly ripped the door from the hinges. The door embedded itself into the wall opposite of the cage; sinking into the concrete almost like putty.

Carefully, as gently as Bucky could, Bucky placed his arms around (Y/n) to slowly lift her up. The snow that was covering her body slowly began to melt from the warmth that was emitting from his body. His facial expression softened, relief coming over him before he became concerned again.

She seemed to be almost completely frozen, her body rock-solid despite the subtle movements of her lips, and Bucky was gentle as he brought her close; pulling her out of the cage. As Bucky enveloped her in his warmth, the frostbite began to slowly dissipate. Her breathing became more apparent, and when her body no longer felt as though it was in a state of rigor mortis, she became limp as Bucky held her close.

"(Y/n)?"

The ground beneath him was starting to sprout more grass; subtle sprigs of baby's breath sprouting around him, and (Y/n)'s eyes slowly fluttered for a moment. She looked exhausted, as if she had been sleeping for a long while, and when her tired eyes met Bucky's, (Y/n) whispered.

"Bucky?"

Bucky couldn't help but to let out a relieved little laugh, his eyes growing wet and nostrils flaring as he nodded down at her.

"Hey, beautiful. Gave me quite the scare there."

Slowly, the darkened room began to light up a bit; glimmers of light filtering over the walls as (Y/n) began to become a bit more aware. She relaxed in Bucky's hold a bit, resting her head against his shoulder as she spoke weakly.

"It got so cold...I couldn't...reach out. I couldn't stop it."

Bucky shushed her quietly, shaking his head as he brushed his hand over her cold cheek.

"I know. We all know. It's not your fault, baby girl."

His skin warmed her cheek up considerably, and (Y/n) seemed relieved to feel the warmth as she sniffled softly; gazing up at him.

"I just wanted to do what was right...I never meant to hurt anybody."

Bucky was firm as he stated, shaking her just the slightest for emphasis.

"It's okay. I'm here now."

(Y/n)'s eyes filled with tears, and she whispered to Bucky softly.

"I almost forgot you...I was terrified that I would never see you again."

Bucky swallowed a bubbling cry, whispering gently as he brushed his hand over her cheek again; cupping it gently.

"Nothing would ever keep me from reaching you. I'm here to stay, to help you remember...and if you forget, I'll remind you. However many times it takes, however long it takes."

As Bucky spoke, the frost on the mirrored walls began to weep, melting into rivulets that shimmered with the brightened sunlight. Grass bloomed further, and from the corners of the room, birdsong began to echo; faint, but growing. Within the melody of the birds, children's laughter began to whisper. (Y/n) sniffled softly before she looked up to Bucky.

"Can we go home?"

Bucky nodded, and through the fatigue, he picked her up bridal-style. As he turned around, the door that the group had gone through was now a familiar door engraved with Wakandan emblems; sleek with black and gold.

Familiar voices began to filter through the door: Steve's teasing tone, Natasha's gentle Russian, Clint's joking voice, Sam's motivational words, Thor's thunderous laugh, Peter's shy reminiscing, Tony's confident quips, Bruce's hesitant offers, Shuri's scientific lingo, and T'Challa's amused laughter.

As Bucky stepped toward the door, each footprint left behind not frost, but flowers. Baby’s breath, white lilies, yellow daisies; little blooming things where there once was snow. As the group approached, the Wakandan door opened on its own, releasing a warm breeze that smelled faintly of jasmine and ozone. The laughter grew louder, more real, and light engulfed the group as they finally made it out.

Also, if you enjoy my work, please consider buying me a coffee!

TAGGING: @ravenswritingroom @mggslefttit @softpia @thebl00dwyrm @buckvoidsyy @chonkybonky @seemsxsketchy @tilldeathripsusapart @vicmc624 @mgchaser @aash3 @samfunko @seventeen-x @valckenaux @babybeeelle @sc4rrc @cjand10 @bane-y-zane @notsostrangerthing @thenameswinter99 @bumblebeebutter @torntaltos @highhopes1008 @muchwita @starstruckfirecat

#bucky barnes x reader #james buchanan barnes x reader #james bucky barnes x reader #winter soldier x reader #the winter soldier x reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes #james bucky barnes #the winter soldier #winter soldier #marvel #marvel x reader #captain america #captain america x reader

83 notes · View notes

obsessedwithceleste · 1 year ago

Text

Daisy Chains and Kept Promises

George Weasley x reader

Based on this request🫶🏽

Summary: George Weasley was never one to break a promise. Especially not one sealed by a daisy chain ring.

word count: 3.2k

©️ obsessedwithceleste. all works posted here belong to me and should not be reposted or copied in any way or form.

It was the first sunny afternoon in what seemed like forever, but in reality had only been a few days, and the residents of the burrow were eager to escape onto the vibrant, green lawn.

“Fred, George you stay out of trouble now!” Molly shouted from the kitchen as you run out the door with the twins.

“Come on now, it’s our last summer before they ship us off to Hogwarts! We gotta make the most of it!” Fred replies, sprinting out to the shed where the Weasleys stored all their brooms.

“Hurry up Georgie, or I’m taking the good broom!” You tease as you race past the other boy, snatching the best broom from the rack before he has the chance to protest.

“Aw c’mon! Why’s she always get the good one?” Ron complains as he catches up with you all.

“Oh shut it Ronald,” George retorts, not bothering to give his youngest brother a second glance.

The four of you spend the afternoon zooming across the field, a beat up quaffle tossed between you in carefree bliss as the sun shines down on you and Ginny watches from the ground below.

Eventually you all tire and you find yourself lying in the shade of the old oak tree that loomed over the garden. Thankfully the rain had scared off the gnomes that had a habit of sneaking into the garden for a tasty treat.

“Show me how to make those daisy crowns? Like the muggles?” Ginny asks, bringing over fists full of the little white flowers.

“Not now Ginny,” Fred sighs, rolling his eyes at the young girl.

“No, no, we can do it now,” you argue, patting the ground next to you, gesturing for the younger girl to sit beside you.

“Yeah, let her stay,” George agrees, smiling fondly at you.

Fred snorts at his brother, eyes rolling once more.

“You always side with her, you’re supposed to be my twin! How are you two going to survive without each other?” Fred retorts, leaning back against the tree.

“It’ll only be a year, then y/n can join us in the fun,” George replies happily.

“Oh at this point you might as well just marry her,” Fred responds with a huff.

You feel your cheeks begin to grow red and you turn to focus all your attention on the young girl beside you, showing her how to intricately wrap the stems together to form a chain of daisies.

You’d known the twins for as long as you could remember. You’d practically grown up with them. Your father Remus did the best he could raising you on his own, he really did, but it was hard. Especially on full moons. The Weasleys always took you in on those nights, often resulting in you staying for days while Remus recovered.

George had had a soft spot for you since the beginning, always being the slightly softer twin while Fred was more severe and brash. You could remember a particularly bad night when it had been storming, the loud thunder making you shake with fear. George had stayed up with you all night, making sure the storm didn’t get you. You had been seven at the time.

It had started back then you supposed, your little crush. It had confused you at first as you had thought of all the boys as your brothers, but now, at the ripe old age of ten, you could tell that Georgie was different from the other Weasley boys.

“There!” George announces excitedly, shaking you from your thoughts as he brandishes a single daisy up into the air, its stem tied rather roughly in a small circle.

Without warning, he grasps onto your hand, sliding the makeshift ring onto your finger, looking rather pleased with himself.

“There. You’re my wife now,” he says proudly as you stare at the little flower adorning your finger.

“You didn’t do it right! You have to ask her to be your wife. Everyone knows that!” Ginny exclaims, watching the two of you with a dopey little grin on her face.

“Oh. Right. Y/n, will you be my wife?” Georgie asks, batting his eyes dramatically at you and sticking out his bottom lip.

“Yes I will,” you reply with a laugh, admiring the pretty daisy that now sat on your finger.

“You two are so gross,” Fred says, making a face.

“Oh, oh! Do the promises! The ones where you say I do!” Ginny urges excitedly, clapping her hands.

“Alright. Do you promise to always laugh at my jokes, always be there for me when I need you, and always take my side when we argue with Fred?” George asks.

Fred begins to make dramatic gagging sounds.

“I do.” You reply with a giggle as Fred just glares at you. “And do you promise to always make me smile, always protect me, and always make me hot chocolate when I can’t sleep?”

“I do.”

It was dark. The whole house was dark really. All the time. Dimly lit and constantly smelling like mold and rotting wood. And the furniture seemed to be permanently damp, the coldness settling into your bones.

You hated it here at Grimmauld Place. The constant shrieking of decrepit, old portraits, the eerie feeling of constantly being watched. The only positive attribute about living in this wretched place was the fact that Remus had never been happier.

It had taken months to do it, but after Harry had been able to help Sirius escape the dementors, Dumbledore had inconspicuously been able to move Sirius into Grimmauld place where you had been staying ever since.

It had been strange at first, no doubt. You had only just met the man, but he grew on you quickly. Like a fungus. You loved seeing how comfortable he made Remus who visibly softened whenever the other man was near. And you hadn’t seen Remus smile as wide or as often, well ever. You could tell that the two of them were just meant to be side by side, and honestly, that was enough for you. Especially in dark times like these.

“Lighten up love, we have a surprise for you before dinner,” Remus announces, entering the drawing room where you sat wrapped in a pile of blankets, a book in hand as you tried to ignore the screeching bag lady in entry way portrait.

“Is it another one of those horrendous sweaters that Sirius keeps digging up from somewhere?” You ask, nose scrunching at the thought of another one of the putrid smelling things being presented to you. You didn’t have the heart to tell him that you detested the nasty things, so you had been giving them to Kreacher to dispose of rapidly. “I know I keep telling him that they’re lovely, but how many of the things does he think I need?”

Remus just laughs, shaking his head. “I’ve told him to move onto something else, but he’s determined to fill your wardrobe I think. But no. It’s not another sweater. For now at least. No, I do believe you’ll quite enjoy this little surprise.” He tells you before leaving you to your book and your thoughts.

Dinner time couldn't come fast enough as you eagerly eyed the clock every fifteen minutes, only to be disappointed by how little time had gone by.

About thirty minutes before the three of you usually ate dinner, you began hearing a chorus of voices coming from the entry way. And not the familiar voices of the Black family portraits.

"Well where is she then?" a loud voice asks.

Hearing the voice, you immediately perk up, not quite believing you'd heard correctly. This place might be driving you mad.

"Oh bloody hell mate, don't seem too eager now," comes the sarcastic response.

You'd know those voices anywhere. Practically throwing yourself from the couch, you eagerly scramble to the door and down the staircase to be greeted by the whole Weasley family grinning up at you.

"Look Georgie, there's your wife, don't get your knickers in a twist now," Fred scoffs.

You fly into George's arms, sighing contentedly as his arms wrap securely around you.

"Well hello to you too," you hear him laugh as he gives you another squeeze before releasing you.

You hadn't seen him, or the other Weasley's for that matter, in what felt like ages. He and Fred had grown their hair out, and you didn't quite remember them being so tall last you saw them. His smile never changed though.

Bashfully, you greet the rest of the Weasley bunch, even Fred giving you a quick hug, before rubbing the top of your head affectionately and effectively tossling up your hair. You stick your tongue out at the boy in response, batting his hand away.

"I missed you all, so much! I've been going absolutely bonkers being here alone for so long," you tell them.

"Well not to worry love, we'll be here all summer. Hermione too, though she's not coming for another few weeks." George tells you.

Feeling eyes on you as you laugh with the boys, turning to see both Sirius and Remus gazing at you intently, eyes flickering between you and George.

Sirius silently points at you, then George before drawing a line across his neck with his finger before giving you a wink. You feel heat creeping into your cheeks as you turn back to the boys.

"What are you all doing here?" you ask eventually as the adults begin to file into the kitchen.

"Came to be used as house elves of course," Fred replies, earning him a nudge from George.

"Mum said that Sirius volunteered the house to be headquarters for the Order," Ron butts in.

"Yeah, then mum volunteered us to help clean the place up," Ginny adds.

You make a face at that.

"We have a lot of work to do then, this place is disgusting," you tell them, leading them up the stairs to the room you'd been staying in. On your way up the stairs, George's hand never leaves yours, fingers intertwined as you guide him up the dusty staircase.

"Long as there aren't any spiders," Ron replies, eyeing the spiraling stairs with suspicion.

You just look back at the boy with concern, pity overtaking your face as his own face turns pale.

For once Grimmauld place was silent. A rare luxury you'd found, especially since the Weasley's had moved in. Not that you minded, the red headed family made the grim, old place feel alive and vibrant. Something you thought the it needed desperately. But you liked the quiet too.

It had been a strange couple of weeks as everyone, the adults especially, seemed to be on high alert. And who could blame them? Hermione had just moved in, sharing a room with you and Ginny. You could hear their breathing now as you stared up at the dark ceiling above.

After the Weasley's arrival, you had all spent countless hours decluttering Grimmauld place. Sweeping, dusting, banishing the more mouthy portraits to the attic. It was hard work, but you had loved every second of it with George making you laugh until you keeled over, tears streaming down your face. His presence just made everything better. You thought so at least.

In the darkened room, your mind drifts to the conversation you had heard between the adults just hours ago. It definitely wasn't a conversation you had been meant to overhear, but Georgie had given you a pair of extendable ears that he and Fred had developed, and you just couldn't help yourself.

"Oh really Sirius, they've all practically grown up together, George would never do anything to hurt her," Molly had said.

At the mention of George's name, you just had to find out what they were talking about.

"We never said he was going to do anything malicious, we just don't want to see her get hurt," Remus replied with a heavy sigh.

Her?

"They're practically adults, you can't protect her forever. So what if they fancy each other? They're not children!" Molly retorts.

"Oh that's rich coming from you. Just the other day you were going on about young witches and wizards rushing into marriage during the first war. And how many times have you told the twins that they're forbidden from joining the Order hmm? They're adults, Molly, you can't protect them forever," Sirius responds.

"Oh but at least I've done all I can to protect them up to this point. What have you done for y/n? Nothing. Because you've been locked up!" Molly spits. You can hear the fury in her voice.

Your fists ball up in rage at her comments. None of it was Sirius's fault. He didn't do anything wrong. How dare she?

"That's enough!" you hear Remus cut in, a sharpness in his voice that you hadn't heard before. "We weren't coming to attack George, or the way you raised any of the children. We were simply raising our concerns, as any good parents would. Now that we've made our point, if you don't wish to interfere, fine. We won't either."

After that the only thing you had heard was the shuffling of feet as they abandoned the dining room. They had most definitely been talking about you. No doubt about it. You hadn't realized they were concerned about you. They never said anything. And it was only Georgie. The two of you had been married for six years now. In all the ways that mattered to you at least. He would never hurt you. In fact, he'd made it a promise.

Mind racing and unable to sleep, you slip out of bed, careful not to make a sound as you slowly creep to the drawing room that you so often took refuge in. To your surprise however, a dim light was already flickering inside when you approached, and a familiar head of red hair sat facing away from you on the sofa.

"Georgie?" You whisper cautiously, not wanting to spook him.

His head turns in surprise, but his face lights up when he sees you.

"What are you doing this up this late, love?" he asks.

"I could ask you the same."

"Fair enough. Just a lot on my mind I suppose."

"Me too," you reply.

A silence falls between the two of you as you stand, watching mesmerized as the light flickers on and off of the boy's handsome face.

"Want me to make you a hot chocolate?" George asks finally.

A smile grows on your face and you instantly perk up at the mention of your favorite treat. George always knew how to put you to sleep, and he always made the best hot chocolate. Nodding enthusiastically, the two of you make your way down to the kitchen where George begins gathering supplies.

One thing you'd always admired about him was that he never minded doing things the muggle way. While Fred was always quick to magic his way through things, George was content taking his time.

"Help stir the milk so it doesn't burn?" he asks, gesturing to the pot now on the stove.

You silently take the wooden spoon from his hand, fingers brushing ever so slightly, before focusing on the task at hand. George sets out two mugs on the counter before helping you melt in the chocolate.

It all felt terribly domestic. As if there wasn't a sociopathic murderer on the loose. Like it was just the two of you.

It isn't long before George is pouring the dark liquid into the mugs, sprinkling in a few little marshmallows and a cinnamon stick or two and the both of you are retreating back up to the drawing room.

The first sip sends shivers of satisfaction down your spine as you lean into George who wraps his free arm around you. You pull a blanket over you and revel for a moment in the comfort.

"Care to share what's been on your mind?" George asks, breaking the silence.

"Only if you go first," you reply, not quite sure how to explain that he was really the only thing on your mind these days.

George just sighs. "It's nothing you we haven't told you before," He tells you. "Mum is just fighting for her life to keep Freddie and I out of the Order, but Moody agrees with us. We're of age. There's nothing she can do to stop us."

"Will you be safe?"

"Safe as can be. Mum has made sure they don't give us any real missions. Just patrolling Diagon Alley since that's where we set up shop."

You simply nod your head, letting it fall against the boy's chest as you feel his even breathing and let it overtake you. You'd never admit it out loud, but you were grateful for Molly to an extent. The twins had an abysmal lack of self preservation skills, and you didn't know what you would do if you lost Georgie.

"And what's going on in that pretty little head of yours?"

You feel your shoulders shrug as you think carefully of what to say.

"I overheard our parents talking today," you mumble, not exactly sure where you were taking this.

"Oh?"

"Dads are worried about us," you tell him, hiding your face in his chest.

"Worried?"

"I dunno. They said something about your mum talking about how a lot of wizards and witches rushed into marriage during the first war, and there was a lot of talk about you being of age and what not. It got intense. There was a lot of yelling."

You feel George's chest rumble with soft laughter at your words.

"Well that's a silly thing to be worried about considering we've been married for years now at this point," he says.

You're not sure if he's joking or not. Maybe the exhaustion was finally getting to you.

"I'm being serious Georgie. I didn't know they were so worried about me. And Sirius sounded so upset," you reply, sitting up to take another long sip of your hot chocolate.

"So am I." he responds, looking you dead in the eye. The usual mischievous gleam is gone this time and you know he's never been more serious about something. "You know I'm not one to break a promise."

The air grows heavy as you feel yourself freeze for a moment at his words before you sink back into his warm embrace.

"I still have it you know. Your ring. Your mum charmed it for me so it wouldn't wilt. She knew all along," you tell him.

"She tends to have a sixth sense when it comes to these kinds of things."

Another silence falls between the two, but this time, the silence brings comfort as you feel your eyes growing heavy. George tries to stifle a yawn, but it escapes anyway. It was later then you had realized.

"I'm glad it's real for you too," you murmur, leaning further into the boy as your eyes flutter close. Something about being in George's arms provided a sense of security you couldn't find anywhere else.

"It was always real. I'd never break a promise to you, love."

bby's first non-slytherin boy fic🫣

don't ask me if I edited this- the answer is no and I don't want to talk abt it💀

tag list: @sol-lupin-black @breeistired

#harrypotter fanfiction #george weasley #george weasley x reader #george weasley x y/n #george weasley x you #fred weasley #harry potter universe #gryffindor #golden era #george weasley fanfic #george weasley fanfiction #george weasley imagines #gryffindor boys #sirius black #remus lupin #remus x sirius

617 notes · View notes

sparklysung · 7 months ago

Text

✨MEDDLE ABOUT – s.j.y.✨

pairing – sim jaeyun x female!reader

genre – smut | non-idol!au, university!au, strangers to lovers!au

warnings – kinda dom!reader (?), awkward!jake, oral (f. receiving), a bit of grinding maybe (?), mentions of alcohol and weed, pet names (mainly pup or puppy), physics major!jake, chemistry major!reader, reader calls jake a nerd lol. lmk if i forgot something!

word count – 2.370 words

summary – the one where jake ends up on his knees, eating you out after meeting you in a crowded bar.

note – so i guess i’m back? from the dead? i’m so sorry if anyone cares that i literally for like a hot minute:’) i’m approaching the end of my university program so i’ve been super busy in the past couple years. stressed? all day every day. wanting to graduate asap? hell yeah. anyway, this was obviously inspired by meddle about – chase atlantic since i’ve been obsessed with them lately. pls lmk what you guys think, i’m trying to get back into writing and this is the first piece i’ve been able to finish so far lol. but pls be kind with me or i’ll cry lol i’m really anxious about posting again but fuck it we ball. this was also not proofread so ignore the errors if you find any lol. also lmk what y’all think about maybe starting a playlist type of series? with different idols and songs?

well, come and get it now,

when jake agreed to go bar hopping on a regular wednesday night with his friend group, he was not expecting the chain of events that would lead to where he was now.

sure, he was hoping for a good time, especially since wednesdays were designated ‘dollar beers’ and the usually expensive alcoholic drinks were at a more accessible price. it was the perfect opportunity for broke college students to go out and get drunk while on a budget.

that was why he did not put up much of a fight when jay let him know about their plan for the night, quickly coming to terms with the idea that he was going to have to show up to class horribly hungover. he knew no matter how many excuses he offered, jay was not going to take no for an answer.

so, at 8 pm, jake took one last look at himself in the mirror, psyching himself up for what the night had prepared for him, before heading to jay’s place.

come and get it now.

“you made it.”

jay commented as soon as he propped the door to his apartment open, a satisfied smirk adorning his face.

jake trailed behind his friend like a lost puppy, a bit anxious and painfully sober. once they reached the nicely decorated living room, the group was finally complete.

by the look of it –if the others’ flushed cheeks were something to go by–, the night had already begun.

his friends were chatting loudly, the sound of laughter and alcoholic beverages being passed around filled the otherwise neat area. the cold night air made him shudder as he joined the group, the smell of weed coming from the balcony making his lungs burn.

baby, show me what you’re doing,

before he knew it, jake found himself surrounded by sweaty bodies, the stuffy air enhancing the effect of the weed he had smoked earlier. the music blasting out of the multiple speakers scattered around the bar, the bass making his body feel numb.

jake joined his friends, dancing with not a single care in the world, the concerns about school quickly slipping out of his intoxicated mind.

it felt great to finally be able to relax for once.

however, just as he was starting to enjoy the night, he somehow managed to make a fool of himself.

“fuck,” jake yelp, utterly embarrassed. “i’m so sorry, i swear i didn’t mean to spill your drink!”

come and turn around.

“you can make it up to me by getting me a new one?”

the sound of your melodic voice made his head tilt upwards, following the source, shame washing over his body when he got a look at you.

you were hot.

a little stunned by your pretty face, he struggled to say something.

“o-of course!” he blurted out a little too loudly for comfort, and jake’s cheeks grew hot when you giggled at his awkwardness.

we only met each other just the other day,

“i take it this is not your scene?” you wondered out loud, obviously trying to start a conversation with the cute boy.

“uh, something like that,” he mumbled, scratching the back of his head, visibly nervous. “i don’t usually go out on weekdays, especially when i have class morning classes the next day.”

“i see,” you hummed, thinking about your own morning classes tomorrow. but who cared, right? have fun now and deal with the consequences later.

“so, uh, what’s your program?” you smiled to yourself at his attempt at keeping the conversation alive, relieved to know he interested in you enough to engage with you.

“chemistry.”

his eyebrows shot up at your words, impressed.

“no way, i wasn’t expecting that.”

“yeah? what’s yours?”

“physics.”

you gasped loudly, feigning shock, and he smiled abashedly.

“good thing i’m into nerds.”

but you already got me feeling some type of way.

you were so bold with your words, so smooth with the way you flirted with him. your honey-like voice had him blindly agreeing with you, almost in a trance-like state. you could be asking him to trade his soul for a chicken nugget and he would instantly agree, no questions asked.

the way you blinked at him, long lashes fluttering so innocently as your glazed over eyes stared straight through him, spiking up his heart rate. your body leaned closer with his every word, fingers toying with a loose strand of your silky hair in such an endearing way his fuzzy mind could not comprehend.

it had to be illegal to be this attractive.

and you were guilty as charged.

now, if i could figure it out,

one thing led to another and soon your lips were on his plush ones, leaving a kiss that felt like a cup of hot chocolate in the winter. warm and sweet.

jake was able to shake off the initial surprise and deepened the kiss. one hand found its way into the nape of your head, pulling you closer, and the other to the small of your back. his touch was hot and reassuring, allowing you to get lost in the feeling of his mouth on yours.

your short dress rode up revealing more of your thighs as you reached for his broad, strong shoulders for support, your weight leaning on his athletic body. and to your delight, you could already feel the hardening bulge in his pants.

he pulled away, his breathing uneven and lips swollen, appearing dazed.

“wanna get out of here?”

i’d take you back to my house so we can meddle about.

jake barely managed to lock the door before you were pushing him against it, arms going to wrap around his neck to bring him in for a kiss. your hungry lips on his, your hot body against him, the scent of your perfume. the combination of sensations overwhelming his senses and leaving him panting for air.

he couldn’t get enough of you.

jake noted to thank jay later for almost dragging him out of his house.

your ministrations, the gentle but eager touch of your hands and your searing lips on his sensitive neck had jake struggling to keep up, far too aroused to think straight. his pants had become considerably tighter since he met you earlier. and he couldn’t help but push his hips into yours, searching for some much needed relief.

the giggle you let out at his desperate attempt at humping you had a frustrated whimper almost escaping the poor boy.

so pretty.

“aw, is my puppy getting impatient?” you asked in the most taunting tone, getting off on teasing him.

“y/n, please, i need something,” jake pleaded, cock throbbing in his jeans. “anything.”

and who were you to deny such a polite boy?

somehow you both managed to stumble into his room, hands never leaving the other.

‘cause it’s not just a figure of speech,

jake’s body fully sprawled on the bed trembled when you brought a hand to cup the tent in his jeans. his groans only grew louder, raw with desire as you slipped your hand under the fabric and made direct contact with his length.

jake thought he was having a fever dream from how stupidly hot his body felt. each caress of your soft hands had him weak on the knees, hips bucking to follow your touch, not caring about how needy he seemed.

your panties were drenched as you felt him up, mouth watering at the thought of his dick fucking your throat until you choked.

but that could wait. what you needed right now was his mouth on your dripping core.

you got me down on my knees.

“fuck, please,” he whined, “let me taste you.”

jake looked at you from his place on the floor, looking all desperate to get his hands on you. you could see his pretty eyes shining even in the darkness, a glint of need letting you know just how much he wanted you.

slowly, you lifted your dress to reveal your underwear, your fingers teasing the hem of the garment.

he swallowed, his mouth uncomfortably dry. his own fingers itched to reach for you and get your panties off himself, too eager to get more of you to wait.

your eyes scanned the boy in front of you, eyebrows scrunched together, a bead of sweat dripping down his temple. despite your limited vision, you could easily make out the outline of his cock in his pants. you almost wanted to jump straight into business just to get a look, wondering what shade of pink it was.

key word: almost.

“what’s wrong, puppy?” you teased, biting back a smirk. when he only huffed in response, you decided to push further. “speak up, sim, i asked you a question.”

his hard cock twitched from the confines of his jeans at your tone.

you looked annoyed, tapping your foot impatiently as you waited for an answer.

“i need you, please,” his words came out slurred, too horny to care.

you nodded, raising a brow at him. “it wasn’t that hard now, was it?”

his body almost vibrated with excitement when you pulled your panties down your legs. you stepped closer to him once they hit the floor, and his eyes immediately shot to the discarded piece of clothing, breathing getting heavier when he found the wet patch at the crotch.

among the wide range of traits you possessed, liar wasn’t one of them. the sight of him, on his knees, begging to please you, had you rubbing your thighs together. your neglected core dripping with arousal.

“be a good pup and eat me out.”

jake perked up as soon as his brain processed your words, scooting closer without a care for his knees. he hummed when you gasped at the feeling of his tongue licking a stripe up your slit.

it’s getting harder to breathe out.

jake groaned when you pushed his head closer, his nose digging into your pussy and putting pressure on your clit. his hands immediately went to grab at your thighs, gripping them for dear life.

he was enamoured with the way your hips bucked into his mouth, your plush lips letting moans escape. it was like music to his ears.

girl, just scream it out,

jake could barely breathe but he didn’t care. all he could think about was the intoxicating scent of your arousal, how sweet you tasted on his tongue. he could feel a mixture of your juices and his saliva drip down his neck, and he felt like he was about to cum in his pants like a bitch in heat.

his hips desperately humped the air, too engrossed in making you cum all over his face to feel embarrassed. your fingers tangled in his soft locks, tugging at the roots whenever his tongue swiped just right only egging him on to work harder.

tell me what you’re thinking about.

“j-jake,” you whined, feeling the knot in your stomach tightening at the speed of light. “don’t stop.”

bet, he thought.

if the way your thighs were trembling around his head was something to go by, he knew you were close.

feeling you fall apart just from his mouth only was driving him insane. he couldn’t wait to see you take his cock, velvety walls stretched around his thickness. he wanted to hear your sweet moans as you struggled to fit him whole, pussy too tight for such a big dick.

hell, just the idea if it had jake eating you out like he would never get pussy ever again. his skilled tongue poked at your entrance, trying to push it as far as he could, relishing in the squelching sounds filling the room.

“fuck,” he moan into your pussy when you pulled his hair a little harsher than before, the vibrations directly against your clit sending you over the edge.

you swore your mind blanked out for a second there. your orgasm washed over you like a tsunami, leaving you light headed. your body convulsed as if you were experiencing a demonic possession first hand, hips humping jake’s face like a rabid dog, riding out your high. and if it weren’t for jake’s grip on you, you would’ve hit the floor.

once you regained a hint of control over your body, you pushed his head away from your sensitive core.

to your satisfaction, jake looked as equally as fucked out as you. his once pristine shirt was now clinging to his toned body due to the sweat, his dark hair disheveled and sticking to his forehead. his pupils were blown out, chest heaving up and down at a concerningly fast pace.

you had him exactly how you liked men, utterly ruined.

with a sly grin on your face, you pulled him back up on his feet by his shirt. before he could yelp, your lips crashed against his in a heated kiss. jake stumbled towards you, unintentionally pressing your body into the cold wall behind you.

his hands grabbed your hips to pull you impossibly closer, need to feel more of you. your fingers wandered back to his hair, playing with the strands of silky hair and hissing against your lips when you pulled a little too hard.

his body felt like it had been lit on fire, the touch of his large hands almost burning you, leaving behind an invisible outline of his hand on your skin. the kiss you shared grew more passionate, more desperate with each passing moment, your tongues waltzing to the pace of your fast-beating hearts.

although you were enjoying the heated exchange, you both needed more.

no, i wanna see you undress now.

you hastily removed your clothes, tossing them somewhere in the room. jake followed suit, matching your eagerness, ready to pounce on you the moment he got the chance.

soon you found yourselves all over each other once again, hands touching and feeling up the other’s body, lips finding each other with a growing intensity.

jake placed you on his bed, looking down at you like you just escaped his wildest dreams.

i wanna hear you confess now.

“i want you to fuck me, jake.”

–lia:)

#enhypen smut #jake smut #jake enhypen smut #sim jaeyun smut #jake sim smut #kpop smut #enhypen jake smut #enhypen jake x reader smut #kpop oneshots smut

150 notes · View notes

cosmickid-inmotion · 24 days ago

Text

Dirty Little Secret

Joel Miller X fem!Reader

TLOU Masterlist : Main Masterlist

Join my taglist!

Summary: Joel doesn't acknowledge you exist, outside of when Ellie is away and he fucks you into the mattress before sending you on your way. So, you make him jealous. Finally, Joel decides to lay his claim.

Warnings: PIV sex, riding Joel, slapping, choking, hair pulling, cutting, carving into skin, violence, blood play, possessive Joel, jealous behavior, toxic relationship? Im gonna say SLIGHT dub con bc it's not predicussed and negotiated kink but everyones having a good time in the end.

A/N: Reposting to this account but the authors note made me happy. I was already writing it then I saw @toxicanonymity posted something similar in their Raider Joel series at the time. I reached out and asked if it was okay to post this despite similarities bc I didn't want any bad will. Little did I know it would lead to friendship with someone I care so deeply about. Toxy also inspired a lot of TWW and is who got me into Boyd Hollbrook, which is why I saw The Bikeriders and Yall know how I love that movie. Such a chain reaction I can link back to posting this the first time 2 years ago.

***

Joel Miller was desperate to teach you that you belonged to him, and him alone. He’d carve it into you if he had to.

“Think you can just whore yourself out for a drink huh?” He spoke gruffly, large hand wrapped around your neck.

“Drinks, Joel. I got one for you too, but you’ve yet to say thank y-” You were cut off by him tightening his fist around you, cutting off your airways.

“Yeah, because you stole his that he was intending on drinking with you.” As your vision began to spot, and you wondered if maybe you took things too far, he let go. “Now what the fuck was that about?”

To say you didn’t mean to upset him would be a lie, so you didn’t, but could bare to tell him the truth. The truth that you were tired of sneaking around, tired of him completely ignoring you because he didn’t want to deal with people (Maria and Tommy) telling him you were too fucking young, or having to explain anything to Ellie, although you were near certain she already knew. You just wanted him to fucking acknowledge that you existed outside of fucking you senseless. As you were straddled across his bare lap, his cock speared inside you, and his free hand moved your hips to his liking Joel took his hand off your throat to deliver a crisp slap across your face, stinging with the anger you both felt as he hate-fucked you,

“ANSWER ME!”

“YOU IGNORE ME!” Screaming, you shove him back so that even though he sat up-right, his head hit the wall, but you don’t stop. “You won’t even fucking look at me in town” You grip the touch of grey that pepper his hair, yanking his face towards you as you continue to shout while still spit open on his cock “You avoid me like the plague and I have to sneak into your house in the middle of the night like a common!” Your anger took over, slapping him back although not nearly as hard. “Fucking!” Another slap. “Whore!” Your attempt at a back hand was stopped in its tracks by Joel bruising grip on your wrist.

You were eye-to-eye, faces no more than an inch apart and you felt like he was deciding your fate in that moment. Maybe he’d kill you, but you couldn’t find yourself regretting anything, the slapping nor flirting with the other man… you’d stood your ground, and if this was how you met your end, with Joel’s dick in you, so be it.

His next words, however, surprised you. All the fury was still there and he spoke through gritted teeth, but he spoke nonetheless. “Don’t you ever doubt what you mean to me.”

You pause for a moment, staring him down and determined not to break… but tears welled up in your eyes and your quivers, the intensity and passion in Joel's eyes too much to bear.

“Why are you embarrassed of me?”

Quicker than you thought possible, Joel let go of your wrist and pulled you into a searing kiss, harsh and rough and full of passion. Sucking on your tongue, his hips thrust up into you, fucking you again.

“I’m not embarrassed, never.”

“Then why do you treat me like a dirty little secret?” You cry, forehead to forehead.

He swallowed hard. “I don’t- I-... I’m a mess. I didn’t want you wrapped up in that.”

“I want it all, Joel. All the mess, all the shit, everything that comes with being with you- ohmygod - I wanna meet Ellie, I want you to introduce me to Tommy as your girlfriend-mmmhhhmmph- I want everyone to know I’m yours.” You began to ride him again, invigorated by your confession. You loved him, you didn’t want to be his dirty little secret anyone.

“Then you’ll have it, sweetness, because you are mine ,” he slapped both asscheeks and squeezed then harshly, painfully. “Fucking mine .”

Joel sloppily made out with your face, missing your mouth half the time; it didn’t matter, he just wanted to devour you. Mouth hung open, you panted in time to his cock hitting inside you, allowing him to taste whenever skin he desired, to lick into your mouth when he focused enough to get there. He moved down your throat, sucking and licking an nibbling as he went.

Breathless, you whine for him. “Mark me, Joel. Please, make sure everyone knows I’m taken.”

Groaning, Joel got to work sucking painful, dark hickies on your neck, breasts, shoulder, obvious and purple and for the world to see, but it wasn’t enough. The more he marked you, the more frustrated and frantic he grew as his cock split you open wide on him. It didn’t matter, because the hickies showed you were taken, but not by who, and what’s worse? They’d fade. He palmed your breasts and with a frustrated growl, Joel clamped down on your shoulder, biting hard. Impaled on him, you scream as he bites, gripping Joel’s shoulders but never stopping rocking on him. Pulling away, he only proceeded to bite again, the blood he was drawing covering his face and he whines, he fucking whines for you.

“It’s not enough” Breathless are his words. “It’s gonna fade, it’s not enough” He bites your arm, desperate and feral for you, for your taste.

“Make it permanent, then.”

Confused, he gazes up at you, red smeared on his face, puppy dog eyes looking for answers, before reaching into the nightstand and pulling out a pocket knife.

A small smile formed on his kiss bruised lips. “Yeah, you want me to mark you up forever?”

Nodding, you beg. “Please Joel, please, carve your name into me!” You cry for him; you need this, you need him… you need to know he wants you to be his forever.

“Yeah, sweet girl? You want my name on you? You sure?”

“More than anything ” His dick is throbs inside you, and you know neither will last much long at this rate, not with how you two have been hate fucking all night.

The metal was cool on your skin, and you stopped moving so fast, not wanting t mess up with work, but Joel thrust up into you, causing you to scream for him.

“That’s it, princess, scream my name, let everyone know who's wrecking this pussy.” He kissed you, firm and passionate, before the first slit on your thigh stung on you. He wasted no time finishing the J and going on to the O. “Gonna make sure everyone knows your mine, baby, no ones gonna dare look at you with my name on you.” The E was difficult, but the way you were screaming in pain spurred him on.

“JOEL! FUCK ME, JOEL!” You begged for more, warm blood dripping down your thighs and onto the bed.

He obliged, shifting the angle a bit and hitting that delicious spot inside you. Your screams of pain were indistinguishable from the pleasure, coming on his cock, squeezing him tight. Joel scooped up some of the blood and thrust his fingers down your throat and causing you to gag.

"Choke on your blood, baby, just like that, just like how you love to choke on my cock."

You do as you're told, tongue swirling around his fingers, but you take both hands and cover the in the blood dripping down. The, you plant your hands firmly on his chest with a slap, handprints marking him... Your nails pinch into his pecks, dragging them down and drawing blood as he shouted your name loudly. There was no way in hell you were a secret anymore.

“Making… you… mine” Joel grunted with every thrust, slicing both lines of the L as he came inside you, dropping the knife with shaking hands.

You collapse onto Joel, exhausted and in pain and dizzy, but you couldn’t find it in you to regret what the two of you had just done.

“Fuck” You hear him mutter, and you hold him close, burring your face in his neck. “What the fuck did I just do…”

But you hold him tight, not letting his post-nut clarity drag him down. “Thank you”

“For… what?” He was breathless, adrenalin and cumming all taking it out of him.

“Making me yours” You kiss his neck, sucking just enough to leave a small hickey; your own parting gift.

You can year him hum, lifting you off him and onto the bed before getting up. When he returned, he man handled you onto your none-wounded side, and began taking care of the wound. It was a while before it stopped bleeding, but Joel cleaned it, and bandaged it up with gauze.

“Do you regret it?” He asked you, but his voice sounded like he knew the answer.

“No, do you?” Your eyes drooped, but you tried to stay awake. He’d kick you out of his bed and out of his house in a little while. He always did.

“Not a single bit. ”

You saw a smile, content smile on his face and he slide into bed, and you moved to get up on your own accord he grabbed your wrist.

“Stay”

That was not what he expected. “What about Ellie?”

Joel pulls you to him, his hand resting on your thigh that bore his name. “She’s gone tonight with a friend, but if she’s back in the morning… well, she’s 16, I think she can handle me having a lady over… just maybe don’t go to the bathroom or downstairs without me. She won’t hesitate to shoot.” Joel smiles fondly and chuckles talking about his daughter.

Looking at Joel now… he was so far removed from the man who was choking you early, the man you slapped… He was opening up his world to you, allowing you in. “I’d love to stay, Joel. If that’s what you want…”

“It is” He quickly assured, before kissing your nose. “It is, sweetness. I want you with me… forever. We can figure out the rest tomorrow, meet Ellie, meet Tommy, his kid...”

“I’ll be with you forever Joel, just like your name is always with me. Forever.”

He held you close and tight, but careful with your wound. “Forever. I am yours and you are mine, forever.”

You were no longer Joel's whore, his dirty little secret... your own little secret on your thigh was proof enough of who you belonged too.

***

Thanks for read or rereading!

#the last of us #the last of us hbo #dark joel miller #joel miller #joel miller smut #dub con #fem!reader #fem reader #joel miller reader #joel miller fanfiction #joel the last of us #tlou hbo #tlou smut #smut #joel miller x you

81 notes · View notes

tnbsecretsanta · 8 months ago

Text

Welcome to the Advent Calendar 2024!

Didn't make it to Secret Santa due to lack of time? Don't worry! This year, there will be a complementary event called "Advent Calendar" where you can spread your love for the series without sticking to a schedule!

What is an Advent Calendar? Traditionally, an advent calendar is a special type of calendar that counts down the days until Christmas Day, starting from 1st December.

How do I participate? Simply create a Tumblr or Twitter post with the activity indicated for the day and use the tag #TnBAdvent24, and we'll reblog/retweet it!

Do I have to participate every day? No! The point of this side event is for you to spread your love for the series without the pressure of a schedule like in the Secret Santa! You can participate any day you want: one, two, ten, all of them! Your choice!

Can I participate in the side event if I joined the Secret Santa? Yes! This event is entirely free, so that you can participate at your leisure.

If I missed an activity from a previous day, can I still post it? Yes! Just use the tag we'll reblog/retweet it! We just suggest that you don't use an activity scheduled for a later date and wait until the indicated day to publish it.

Happy creating!

See below the cut for the text version of the activities indicated

1st - Start reading a Fanfic (emphasis on start, no need to finish it the same day)

2nd - Create a NEXT power

3rd - Which Proverb would make for a good episode title?

4th - Share your favorite piece of official art

5th - Post a WIP (This can be any work-in-progress related to T&B, a merch collection, a shrine, a cosplay, art, MMD video, ita bag, progress of your read-through of the manga, that stuff!)

6th - Share your Favorite Tiger & Bunny-related song (This means any song made for Tiger & Bunny specifically, including character songs and music used in the episodes and credits)

7th - Re-watch any episode of Tiger & Bunny (and then feel free to post a review of it)

8th - What do you want Tiger & Bunny to collab with next? (Collaboration in this context is a collab with another property, such as a company like Sanrio, a store chain like 7-11, restaurant/fast food chains, games, and similar)

9th - Make a fancast for a hypothetical Live Action Adaptation of Tiger & Bunny

10th - Share a headcanon - new or old - that you have

11th - Share an instance of "Tiger & Bunny Spotting" you've seen IRL (T&B Spotting is seeing things like their colours or associated animals-theming in unexpected places. Pets can count for this; If it's not your pet, ask for permission before posting.)

12th - Come up with a food or drink themed around a character. Actually making it is entirely optional!

13th - Come up with an 'Alternate Universe' (AU) plot. You don't have to write anything beyond a plot synopsis or roles.

14th - Ramble about your favorite character or pairing!

15th - Share either a "hidden Gem" fic, or your favourite fanfic! Maybe it's both?

16th - Pitch a Season 3 or Third Movie plot

17th - Post a meme you really like, or make a meme from scratch

18th - Share your favorite OR your most wanted piece of Tiger & Bunny Merchandise

19th - Tell us about your favorite Villain

20th - Picture/Write about yourself as if you lived in Sternbild

21st - Assign a song you like to a character or a pairing

22nd - Share your favorite piece of fanart! Make sure to credit the artist, or repost the art directly through reblog or retweet or similar features.

23rd - Share your favorite piece of trivia about any Tiger & Bunny character

24th - Tell us what Tiger & Bunny means to you

25th - Free Day! Happy Holidays!

#TnBAdvent24 #tiger & bunny #tiger and bunny #barnaby brooks jr #kotetsu t. kaburagi #taibani

144 notes · View notes

holyblonded · 2 months ago

Note

are the other teams ever worried about chickie joining barça? like we all know she's never but like-they don't..?

— every transfer window is a collective heart attack across europe

— arsenal tries to play it cool like “she’s committed to the badge” but beth is absolutely texting chickie at midnight like “tell me you’re not leaving i will cry”

— united players are like “nah she’s not going back to spain she’s a gunner” but there’s a nervous twitch in their eye

— chelsea acts smug until chickie wears a barça shirt to training as a joke. it ended up on instagram and millie bright nearly faints

— psg has a full internal briefing every six months titled: “operation do not let chickie return to barça”

— the barça girls? yeah they’re feral. vicky once commented “come home” under a random post of chickie’s photo dump

— alexia doesn’t say anything but reposts chickie’s arsenal highlights with captions like “miss u”

— sam has to sit chickie down like “you are NOT leaving. i will chain you to your locker”

— meanwhile chickie is just vibing. wearing both arsenal and barca merch like it’s normal

— reporters ask her about it and she grins and goes “i love barca with my whole heart! i also love arsenal! i also love soup!” and offers nothing else

— every team secretly refreshes her insta story like they’re stalking an ex.

— arsenal pr team has a designated “chickie doesn’t want to leave” press pack. it’s used monthly.

— tldr: the girl has every european club shaking and she’s just skipping around north london eating ice cream

#answered asks 💌#woso community #·˚ ༘ always sunny in australia: asks

89 notes · View notes

honeydippedfiction · 20 days ago

Text

Daddy's Bodyguard

Navigation

Synopsis: Sometimes there comes a time when a baby can hold the whole world in her chubby hands, other times? She's ready to fight anyone who gets close to her father.

Warnings: Zariyah is a mini menace

WC: 3.3k

Join my Taglists here or message me

• you DO NOT have my permission to copy my work, upload as your own, translate, or repost on any other website •

Tuesday Morning – Cincinnati Bengals Training Facility

Joe adjusted the strap on the diaper bag over his shoulder as he bounced Zariyah gently on his hip. She had a pastel Bengals onesie on—complete with little tiger paw booties—and a pink satin bow headband that Angel had tied with surgical precision before heading to the ESPN office.

“Okay, baby girl. Ready to show these grown men who’s boss?” he murmured as he walked into the facility.

Zariyah babbled in response, her tone fierce and deliberate. One of her hands clutched a stuffed football rattle, the other gripping Joe’s chain like she owned it.

As soon as the door opened and the sound of cleats and sneakers echoed around them, she went on high alert. Wide eyes. Head turning. And then—

The Glare™.

It was sudden, sharp, and devastatingly effective. Zariyah’s tiny brows furrowed as she zeroed in on the first assistant coach who approached too quickly.

Joe grinned. “Yeah. She does that now. She’s, uh…a little territorial.”

“She gets that from her mom,” Ja’Marr said, strolling in from the weight room with a bottle of Gatorade. “Hey, munchkin! Come to your favorite uncle—”

Before he could even finish the sentence, Zariyah’s head whipped toward him and she let out a loud, opinionated babble, complete with flailing arms and a dramatic scowl.

“She’s mad ‘cause you said you were her favorite,” Tee called from behind, already walking over with his arms out. “Z-Baby, don’t listen to Ja’Marr. You know it’s me, right?”

Joe couldn’t stop laughing. “Y’all are ridiculous.”

Zariyah turned toward Tee, still glaring, but then let out a very suspicious-sounding “Da-da,” as if confirming that her loyalty wasn’t up for debate. She snuggled closer to Joe’s chest and gave both uncles the side-eye.

“She really glared at me?” Tee asked, feigning hurt.

“Gave me the death stare too,” Ja’Marr added, hands on his hips. “That’s fine. Whatever. I’ll win her over. Wait till she sees the little Bengals tracksuit I got her. Custom embroidery and everything.”

Joe adjusted Zariyah on his hip and looked down at her. “You threatening your uncles now, Z? Just protecting me like a little linebacker?”

Zariyah blinked up at him, then reached for his face with both hands and said, clear as day: “Da-da.”

The locker room melted.

“That’s it,” Tee said. “We lost. She’s a Daddy’s Girl for life.”

“She been a Daddy’s Girl,” Joe replied smugly, planting a kiss on her forehead. “She just letting y’all know the pecking order.”

Later, when Coach Taylor passed by and dared to pat Joe on the shoulder, Zariyah snapped her head around so fast it startled him. She let out a low grumble of disapproval.

“Oh my god,” Ja’Marr whispered. “She’s really guarding you.”

“She’s built like a mini bodyguard,” Tee added. “Little pitbull in a pink bow.”

Zariyah didn’t smile once the entire team meeting. She perched on Joe’s lap in the film room, eyes narrowed, watching every man who got near her dad like they might be plotting to replace him.

And by the time Angel FaceTimed them during lunch, Zariyah lit up only for her.

“Hi mama,” Joe said, turning the screen so Angel could see their daughter.

Zariyah’s eyes sparkled. “Muma!” she squealed. Then, like a tiny gremlin, she glanced at Tee trying to feed her mashed banana and let out a warning babble.

“She’s been cussing us out in baby language,” Tee said.

Angel just smiled knowingly. “Good girl. Keep your boys in line.”

Bengals Facility – Late Afternoon

Angel stepped through the doors in black biker shorts and an oversized LSU crewneck, laptop bag slung over her shoulder, sunglasses pushed up into her curls.

She barely made it three steps before Ja’Marr appeared like he’d been waiting all day for his moment.

“Ohhh, look who finally showed up,” he said, hands flailing dramatically. “Come collect your little security guard.”

Tee popped up behind him. “No, seriously, Angel. Your daughter has been terrorizing grown men.”

Angel raised an eyebrow, amused. “Terrorizing?”

“She growled at Coach Taylor,” Ja’Marr said, deadpan. “Growled.”

“She tried to smack my hand when I offered her fruit snacks,” Tee added.

Angel snorted. “That sounds like something you deserved.”

“She glared at the equipment guy just for handing Joe a water bottle,” Ja’Marr went on. “Like—how dare he hydrate her father.”

Angel laughed, finally making her way toward the lounge, where the lights were dim and a few players were lounging in compression gear. And there, in the far corner on the oversized couch, was Joe.

Reclined back. Hoodie pushed up to his elbows. Legs stretched out.

And sleeping on his chest like a pink-bowed angel was Zariyah—tiny fists curled against his shirt, cheeks flushed, pacifier in her mouth, her little tiger booties hanging halfway off her feet.

Angel slowed to a stop. Her chest tightened.

“Y’all talk all that shit, but she looks like peace right now,” she whispered, smiling.

“Yeah, now,” Tee whispered. “She ran a whole dictatorship all day and then passed out like a tyrant after battle.”

“She doesn’t like people touching Joe,” Ja’Marr said. “You gotta earn your way into the circle.”

“Apparently even I don’t have clearance,” Tee added.

Angel moved quietly toward the couch, careful not to wake her, then crouched and brushed a hand down Zariyah’s curls.

“Time to head home, mama,” she whispered.

Joe stirred, voice low and sleepy. “She knocked out like ten minutes ago.”

Angel leaned in and kissed his cheek. “You look knocked out too.”

He hummed. “She wore me out more than practice did.”

Angel slipped one hand beneath Zariyah’s back and started to lift her gently.

That was her first mistake.

Zariyah’s eyes snapped open—wide and unblinking.

The glare hit immediately.

Brows furrowed. Bottom lip jutted. Tiny little snort of warning.

Angel blinked. “Excuse me?”

Ja’Marr lost it from the other side of the room. “SHE’S GIVING YOU THE GLARE NOW?”

“Yo!” Tee shouted, practically doubled over. “She mad at you now?!”

Joe just groaned into a smile, eyes still half-closed. “Told you. She’s protecting her man.”

Angel looked down at her daughter—still glowering, now fully awake—and tried not to laugh.

“You glaring at me?” she asked, incredulous.

Zariyah sucked harder on her pacifier and narrowed her eyes like she didn’t trust Angel at all.

“You really think I’m a threat?”

Joe’s voice was thick with amusement. “She watched you take me away one too many times, babe. She knows what’s up.”

Angel shook her head, speechless. “I carried you for nine months, fed you from my body, and this is the thanks I get?”

Zariyah offered a dismissive babble.

Ja’Marr, from the corner: “She said what she said.”

“Honestly,” Tee added, “I’ve never respected anyone more.”

Angel sighed dramatically, scooping her daughter up anyway while Zariyah grumbled in her arms like she was planning a mutiny.

Joe finally sat up, rubbing his eyes. “She’ll forgive you in like five minutes. But she’s keeping score.”

“Just like her mama,” Ja’Marr mumbled.

Angel shot him a look. “Careful. You’re next on the glare list.”

And sure enough, Zariyah looked over her shoulder and gave one last stern side-eye to the entire facility as Angel carried her out—like she’d be back. And next time? Y’all better act right.

Later That Evening – Burrow House, Cincinnati

The drive home had been…tense.

Zariyah sat in her car seat with the air of a wronged woman—arms crossed over her little chest, cheeks puffed out, pacifier dramatically hanging from her lips like she was barely tolerating the betrayal. She refused to babble. Refused to giggle at the stuffed lion Angel dangled at red lights. Even when Angel sang her favorite lullaby, Zariyah just stared out the window like she had paperwork to file and enemies to blacklist.

Angel glanced in the rearview mirror and sighed. “You really mad I took you away from Daddy, huh?”

Zariyah didn’t answer. Just gave a single, slow blink.

Angel shook her head with a quiet laugh. “Unbelievable.”

By the time they made it into the house, Angel had managed to wrestle her laptop bag inside, kick off her slides, and balance her attitude-riddled child on one hip. She dropped her keys in the bowl by the door and exhaled like she was clocking out of a shift.

“Okay, ma’am,” she muttered to Zariyah, “you’ve been holding this grudge for like—three hours now. That’s gotta be a record.”

Zariyah didn’t blink. Didn’t smile. Just nestled deeper into her mama’s hip with a sigh as if to say, I’m tired, but I’m still upset.

Angel carried her into the living room, already switching gears. “Let’s put on some Miss Rachel or ‘Bluey,’ okay? Chill out before bedtime.”

She bent down, gently setting Zariyah on her soft pink play mat with all the toys—rattles, plushies, and a musical mirror that lit up. Then she turned toward the TV to queue up the cartoon.

That was mistake number two.

The second Zariyah’s butt hit the mat, she yelled. A high-pitched, indignant screech that echoed through the whole house. And then—

SLAP.

Right hand came down like a gavel.

SLAP SLAP.

She smacked the play mat with both hands like she was laying down the law, eyebrows drawn tight, face twisted in a fury of betrayal and inconvenience.

Angel whipped around. “Girl!”

Zariyah glared at her mother with her bottom lip poked out, then threw one of her plush toys dramatically to the side.

Angel stared. “You know what? You got one more time to act like you pay rent in here.”

Zariyah yelled again. Slapped the mat again. Didn’t break eye contact.

Angel crossed her arms. “Oh, so we’re throwing hands now? Over Bluey?”

Zariyah babbled back like yes, ma’am, I have several complaints.

Angel pressed her fingers to her temples. “Lord, please give me patience before I set this baby outside like a porch package.”

She plopped onto the couch and grabbed the remote, turning on Bluey anyway.

“I’m not arguing with someone who can’t even wipe her own ass,” she muttered.

Zariyah quieted for a beat, still frowning—but the second the intro song started, her tiny head whipped toward the screen. The glare faded slightly. Her little fist relaxed.

Angel watched her carefully. “Uh huh. Thought so.”

She leaned back with a sigh, finally taking her first real breath of the day.

And just when she thought the tantrum was over—Zariyah reached out, grabbed the blanket from the couch… and pulled it over herself like a diva.

Angel blinked. “I cannot with you today.”

A pause.

Then a quiet laugh slipped out of her, despite herself. “Just like your damn daddy.”

Burrow Living Room – 6:48 P.M.

Angel propped her phone against a nearby sippy cup, flipped it to record, and pressed play.

“Go ‘head then. Tell the people how mad you are.”

The video started with Zariyah dead center on her play mat, cheeks flushed, curls slightly frizzy from the car seat, bow now crooked from the drama she had personally curated.

She stared into the camera like she was about to air the entire household’s business.

Then—

SLAP.

Her tiny palm landed hard against the plush mat.

SLAP SLAP.

She glared past the phone at her mother like she wanted to speak to management.

“You done?” Angel asked from behind the camera.

Zariyah said nothing. Just stared. Breathing heavy. Still fuming.

Another slap.

Then, just before the video ended—

“AAAAHHH!” Zariyah screeched, voice high and defiant like she was rallying a protest.

Angel stopped the recording. Deadpan. “Bet.”

She clicked send and dropped it in the Burrow Family group chat:

🎥 Zariyah’s attitude era has arrived. Come collect y’all’s grandchild/niece. I’m done.

Within thirty seconds:

Robin (Joe’s mom):

LMAOOO. Not her smacking the mat like she paid for it 😭 She is 1000% your child.

Jimmy (Joe’s dad):

You sure she didn’t get that from your side of the family? 👀

Tee:

OH MY GODDDDDDDD 💀💀💀 She still mad about earlier?!?! This baby holds grudges.

Ja’Marr:

She hit that mat like it said something about her mama 😭 I’m scared. And I’m not even there.

Jess (Sam’s wife):

She’s so cute even when she’s evil 🥹🖤

Sam Hubbard:

Can’t believe I got glared at by someone under 2 feet tall today

Finally, a reply popped in from Joe, who was still at the facility, feet up in the QB room:

Joe:

She inherited your mean mug and my dramatics. We’re doomed.

Angel:

No. I’m doomed. Y’all just visit the chaos. I live with it.

Then a little heart reacted to Joe’s message—Zariyah’s photo as the sender.

Angel blinked. Then cackled. “I know damn well my baby didn’t just react to that like she understood the assignment.”

She looked over.

Zariyah was sitting upright now, hand still hovering threateningly over the mat like she wasn’t finished.

The bow had officially slid down over one eye.

Burrow Living Room – 7:22 P.M.

The door creaked open.

Joe stepped in, duffel bag slung over one shoulder, hair still slightly damp from a post-practice shower. He toed off his sneakers and glanced around the quiet foyer before hearing it—

The babble-yelling.

It came in waves from the living room, high-pitched and unrelenting, layered with the sharp thuds of palms slapping plush.

SLAP.

“BabababababA!!”

SLAP. SLAP.

“GAHH—da—MAHH!”

Joe blinked. Stepped into the living room.

And there she was.

Zariyah.

Facing away from him. Still in her play clothes from earlier, bow barely hanging on, cheeks flushed and fiery as she lectured her mother in full toddler rage. She was seated on her mat like it had personally offended her, babbling at full volume while alternating between smacks and dramatic scoots.

Angel sat cross-legged on the couch, completely unfazed, phone already in hand. She clocked Joe’s entrance with a look that said don’t say a damn word, just watch.

Zariyah flailed her arms again, yelling louder.

Joe smiled. His heart swelled.

She was still mad.

Quietly, he set down his bag, folded his arms, and leaned against the doorway—watching this tiny little tornado let her mama have it.

SLAP. SLAP.

“GAAHH—buh—da-da—NO.”

Angel snorted softly. Whispered to her phone camera, “Day two of being terrorized by my own child. Exhibit C.”

And then—

Joe cleared his throat. Soft, calm, just enough to be heard:

“Hey, baby girl.”

Zariyah froze.

Her entire body stiffened like a cartoon villain getting caught mid-monologue.

Slowly—so slowly—she turned.

The second she laid eyes on him?

All that rage disappeared.

Her whole face lit up like Christmas.

“DA-DA!” she squealed.

And then? She launched into motion—hands smacking against the mat in a mad dash crawl, grinning wide, arms stretched as she hauled ass across the floor toward Joe like she hadn’t spent the last forty-five minutes slapping furniture and yelling at her mom.

Angel gaped, phone still recording. “OH. MY. GOD.”

Joe knelt down, scooping her up just as she reached him. “Hey, princess,” he cooed, nuzzling her cheek. “You giving your mama a hard time?”

Zariyah squealed again, kicking her legs, smile all gummy and triumphant as she nuzzled into his neck like the sweetest baby in the world.

Angel was still filming. “You see this, right? She switched up the moment you walked in.”

Joe glanced over her head, smirking. “Nah, she’s been perfect all day. Haven’t you, Z?”

Zariyah gave a tiny proud babble and tucked her face into his hoodie.

Angel stopped the recording with a dry laugh. “Y’all are so full of shit.”

She attached the video to the group chat:

🎥: “Not her pretending she hasn’t been cussing me out in Baby for an hour. Wait for the switch-up.”

Tee:

NAHHHHHHH 💀💀💀 the turn and run??? I’m done

Ja’Marr:

Zariyah is a master manipulator and she is SEVEN MONTHS OLD 😭

Robin:

Her commitment to the bit is inspiring

Joe:

What can I say? My girl’s loyal

Angel:

She loyal to you and ready to fight me. She’s seven months deep into her villain origin story

Later That Night – Zariyah’s Bathroom

Steam curled up from the warm bathwater as Angel knelt beside the tub, rolling up the sleeves of her LSU crewneck while Joe perched on the toilet lid, towel draped over his shoulder, watching with a soft smile.

Zariyah sat in the water, surrounded by floating ducks, a squeaky starfish, and her favorite pink stacking cups. Her curls were damp and wild, cheeks dewy from the heat, hands busy splashing and rearranging her bath toys like a tiny CEO managing bath time inventory.

She still wasn’t talking to Angel. Not really.

She wasn’t glaring anymore, sure—but every time Angel reached in to rinse her shoulder or scoop water onto her back, Zariyah would go very still. Not slapping. Not smiling.

Just… quiet judgment.

“You really gonna ice me out the whole bath?” Angel asked, raising an eyebrow.

Joe snorted behind her. “Babe, she’s making you work for it.”

Zariyah picked up the duck. Glared at it. Then flung it at the side of the tub like it owed her money.

“See?” Angel muttered. “Baby Mafia boss.”

Then, just as she reached for the washcloth—Zariyah suddenly turned. Reached out. And grabbed Angel’s thumb with her chubby little hand.

Angel blinked. “What’s this?”

Zariyah blinked back. Then gently patted her mom’s wrist with the other hand.

Angel softened instantly. “Oh. We’re friends again?”

Zariyah made a high-pitched little mmm! sound and gave her the tiniest hint of a smile before dunking her cup back underwater like nothing had happened.

Joe grinned. “You got forgiven. Congratulations.”

“I’d like to thank the Academy,” Angel deadpanned, wiping Zariyah’s arm. “And Johnson’s lavender body wash.”

Thirty Minutes Later – Master Bedroom

Joe stepped out of the walk-in closet shirtless, gray sweatpants riding low on his hips, towel slung around his neck. His curls were still damp, and his eyes were already drooping a little.

Angel lay curled up under the duvet, watching the baby monitor like it was a high-stakes movie.

Zariyah was finally down. Dressed in a zip-up footie onesie covered in tiny moons and stars, pacifier in her mouth, arms sprawled dramatically above her head like she’d just fought her last war of the day.

“Can’t believe she played me all day,” Angel murmured. “Sided with you, treated me like an intruder, then forgave me like she was the one wronged.”

Joe climbed into bed beside her, tugging her into his chest. “She gets that from you.”

“Lies,” Angel yawned, but she curled into him anyway. “She gets your dramatic ass and my ability to hold a grudge. That’s a deadly combo.”

Joe chuckled, kissing the top of her head. “She’s lucky she’s cute.”

“She’s lucky she looks like you,” Angel muttered. “Or I might’ve left her at the facility.”

Joe laughed louder at that, the sound low and warm in his chest. “You ever think about how we really made her? Like… she’s ours. Our exact chaos and DNA combined.”

“Mmhmm.” Angel trailed her fingers along his ribs. “And you still wanna try for another someday?”

Joe paused.

“Be honest,” she added with a sly smile. “That little tantrum shook you a little, huh?”

He groaned. “A little?! She slapped the play mat like she was ready to unionize.”

Angel laughed so hard she buried her face in his chest.

“I mean… I still want more,” Joe said after a beat, softer this time. “But if the next one comes out with her attitude? We’re cooked.”

“Facts,” Angel whispered. “We’ll just pack our things and hand the house over to them.”

Joe exhaled a tired chuckle, kissed her again, and reached for the monitor one more time.

Zariyah stirred.

Both of them froze.

She smacked her lips around the pacifier, sighed, rolled over, and went still again.

Angel: “She heard us talking.”

Joe: “She’s always listening.”

They stayed quiet another second… then slowly relaxed.

And from the monitor, their seven-month-old daughter snored gently—tiny dictator finally off-duty.

162 notes · View notes