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rip-quizilla · 2 years ago

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1405 Peach Tree Lane

Pairing: Older!Neighbor!Eddie Munson x Reader

Summary: You like to watch your older, tatted shirtless neighbor now his lawn. He likes to watch you laying by your parents’ pool in those swimsuits that make his mouth water. Eventually, the inevitable happens when he invites you across the street for a drink.

Word Count: 8.2K

Tags: 🔥SMUT, modern au, age gap (Eddie 40s, Reader 20s), daddy kink, praise kink, degradation kink, slight breeding kink, spitting, light dom/sub, unprotected sex (reader has an iud), oral sex, p in v sex, shower sex, masturbation in a hot tub

(A/N: This is some of the filthiest shit I think I've ever written. You're welcome. Also I was very quick with the proofread, so if you see any spelling or grammar mistakes, no you don't.)

💜💜💜

Everyone in the posh gated community of Forest Hills knew about 1405 Peach Tree Lane.

The house was beautiful, as were all the houses in the upper-crust neighborhood- but the house wasn’t what people paid attention to.

Every housewife in the neighborhood knew that if they were lucky and timed their morning jog just right, they’d catch a glimpse of the toned, inked-up adonis who lived there while he shirtlessly mowed his lush green lawn.

You might not have done much speaking with the housewives in your parents’ neighborhood, but you knew about 1405 Peach Tree Lane- you had a perfect view of its front lawn from your lounge chair by the pool in your parents’ backyard. Luckily for you, all that separated your backyard from 1405 was a short wrought iron fence and a narrow stretch of road.

You didn’t mind living with your parents during the summers you spent home from college; they gave you plenty of freedom and while they were at work during the day, you got to spend the afternoon lounging by the pool, reading a book and soaking up the sun.

As well as soaking up the view of the way that same sunlight glinted off Mr. 1405’s sweaty, ink-riddled skin.

You didn’t speak to him- what would you even say? “Hi, it’s nice to meet you, my favorite part of the day is guessing what your tattoos mean.”? Or maybe, “Hey there neighbor, mind if I count the freckles on your shoulders? It’s for science.”

Eventually, the inevitable happened- he caught you staring.

He didn’t make it awkward, though. In fact, from the way he simply smiled and waved at you, you wondered if he thought your eyes meeting him had just been a coincidence, and you hadn’t been ogling him for the past thirty minutes and some change. You’d smiled back, thankful for your huge sunglasses that hid the way your eyes had widened under his attention, and waved in return.

An even bigger surprise had been that he spoke to you this time.

“That book any good?”

His voice, heavy with labored breathing under the exhaustion from finishing up his lawn work, had caught you completely off guard. You’d laughed nervously, sticking your bookmark between the pages and pushing yourself up from your face-down position on the flattened lounge chair.

“Oh! Ah-ha, uhm, yeah!” you shifted your weight back until you were sitting on spread knees and looking up at the source of the voice. On the other side of your parents’ fence stood Mr. 1405 Peach Tree Lane, sweaty and slightly sunburned on the tops of his shoulders. His curly brown hair had been piled into a messy knot atop his head, and you took note of the details that you hadn’t noticed from far away- a smattering of silver studs that decorated his ears, along with one on his nose. Five o’clock shadow that dusted his jawline. A more detailed view of his tattoos, some of which looked older than others but all of which looked very, very sexy on this man who had so much sex appeal already.

The crinkling of his plastic water bottle as he squeezed about half of it into his mouth filled the silence between you. After a loud gulp he piped up again.

“What’s it about?”

Your brow wrinkled confusedly before you remembered that he had just asked you about your book. “Oh!” you replied dumbly, looking down at the book as if you had completely forgotten that books even existed- looking at him had taken up your entire mental capacity, apparently. “It’s, uh, it’s a memoir! It’s this cool old lady’s life story, she does not hold back, so the narration is pretty hilarious a lot of the time.”

The inked-up Greek god smiled and nodded, eyebrows raising in interest. “That does sound good.” he mused, and his voice took on a slyer tone when he added, “What’s your definition of old, like thirty-five?” He chuckled as if he’d just told a funny joke, but your smile had all but fallen from your face.

“That’s not old,” you replied, not taking the joke, “This author was in her late seventies when she published this book, but even with that being said, this book is just told through such a youthful spirit- it’s easy to forget how old the author is when looking at her words.” You gripped the paperback a little tighter in your sweaty hands. “Plus, old people definitely don’t have the energy to mow their own lawns, and I have a feeling you’re not thirty-five.”

That seemed to catch him off-guard. A surprised laugh escaped him, exploding from his lips before they formed an intrigued grin and his arms crossed over his tattooed chest.

“Oh yeah? How old do I look, then?”

You grinned back, making a show of removing your sunglasses so that you could peer at him with greater focus. “Hmmmmmm…thirty-six?”

Another laugh, this one heartier than the last. “You flatter me, sweetheart.”

God, his voice is like brown sugar.

You tried again. “Forty, then.”

“Older.”

“No way.”

His grin became a smirk. “Are you patronizing me right now?”

You threw up a girl scout salute. “Scout’s honor, I would never.”

He chuckled. “Well, girl scout, I’ll be forty-five next month.”

“I’ll be sure to warn my parents about the rager you’ll be throwing.”

He peered up at your house behind you, like he just now noticed its- and your parents’- existence. “Nah,” he said, “No ragers for me, that ship sailed when I was your age.”

You smiled sweetly, placing your sunglasses atop your head. “At least let me bake you a cake, then, wouldn’t be neighborly to let you have a boring birthday.”

“You’d bake a cake for ‘lil old me, sweetheart?” His tattooed hand splayed over his heart, sweaty and shining in the blaring afternoon sun.

You giggled. You could get used to Mr. 1405 calling you ‘sweetheart’.

“Sure thing, just tell me what name to write in between ‘happy birthday’ and ‘forever young’.”

A flash of dazzling white teeth replied, “Eddie. Eddie Munson.”

That was when you rose a step above the housewives of Forest Hills- to them, he was still Mr. 1405, but to you? He was Eddie Munson.

You entertained yourselves with little conversations here and there whenever Eddie worked out on his lawn. You, always in a swimsuit and him, never wearing a shirt. You would ask him about his tattoos- what they symbolized, which ones he’d drawn himself before they were replicated on his flesh. He would ask you about what you were reading- it was always changing. Sometimes nonfiction, sometimes romance, fantasy, lit fic… he seemed impressed by your insatiable reading habits.

One day, however, he’d been particularly interested in a book whose cover bore a bare-chested gentleman and particularly busty woman in a corset.

“What’s today’s read, girl scout?” Eddie had greeted you with a nod toward the obviously risque reading material and a knowing smirk as he let his arms dangle over the black bars of your fence.

You looked up, glowing from the sweat that’s gathered on your dewy summer skin and smiled tightly. “Oh, just a period romance. Ball gowns, forbidden love, the scandalous touching of hands without gloves on- things like that.”

“From the looks of that cover, I don’t think their hands are the only naked body parts touching in that story.”

You laughed, glancing at the cover as Eddie waggled his eyebrows. “You’re probably right, but who knows? I’m only on the second chapter. I’ll keep you posted though.” you punctuated that last part with a wink.

“Oh please do, princess,” Eddie said with a wolfish grin. “I love a good smutty romance novel.”

You gawked. “No way you read this shit, you’re bluffing.”

Eddie raised a hand as if swearing on a bible. “Scout’s honor.” he said, mimicking your swear from the day you’d met.

You shook your head, smiling ear to ear. “You must be the first man I’ve met who openly admits to reading smut, and I respect that.”

Eddie shrugged. “Easiest way to know what women want- they’re literally writing me an instruction manual. It’d be stupid not to read them.”

You bit your bottom lip before you could stop yourself, making a mental note of that little tidbit of information. “And you enjoy them?”

“It’s porn, sweetheart,” he said, gazing at you incredulously. “Who wouldn’t enjoy it?”

“It’s porn with a plot.”

“I’m a sucker for a good plot, especially if the plot involves sucking.”

You barked out a laugh. “And one could also argue that it’s more emotional porn than physical.”

“Are you insinuating that I don’t have a heart? Because I’ve got one, princess, and it bleeds, it yearns-”

Eddie pantomimed grasping at his own heart in his chest, putting on a fucking one-man show as he hung onto the fence for dear life as if his heart were truly bleeding out. You laughed- that was something that seemed to happen more when Eddie was around- you laughed more than usual, so much that you found your cheeks aching whenever he walked away.

This time, something else ached as you watched him return to his lawn. As you continued to read, you were acutely aware of the heat between your thighs, the wetness that accumulated as you pictured corseted girls and muscled viscounts making eyes at each other across a sea of dancing courtiers. You imagined yourself, cornered in a rich rose garden bathed in moonlight, struggling to stifle your moans as a man in a tailcoat left a mark on your neck. You felt his hand hiking up your layers of petticoats until it reached your thigh, the only thing separating skin from skin being the white fabric of his gloves. You pictured his eyes, brown and bottomless as he moaned at the feeling of your hands tangled and tugging on his soft brown curls-

Uh oh.

You took a deep breath, bookmarked your page, and slipped into the cold water of the pool. You sincerely hoped that Eddie hadn’t been serious about an update on the smut in your novel; you didn’t exactly want to let slip that at some point, you’d stopped picturing the viscount and started picturing him.

But would he mind? Would he be upset to know that you’d pictured his hands on you, his lips on your pulse, your fingers in his hair?

You weren’t sure he would.

In fact, you had a feeling he might actually picture you in situations that weren’t too different. After all, you weren’t blind- you’d noticed the way his eyes would flit down from your face when the two of you were talking. He didn’t seem to put much effort into hiding his once-overs, his raking gaze that seemed more than pleased by the way your swimsuits hugged your curves, pulled your cleavage together, cut higher on your hip than your shorts ever would. Whenever you pulled yourself up from lying on your stomach, you’d seen how his eyes followed your ass hungrily as it left his line of sight.

That was the moment that you realized- Eddie Munson, more than likely, wanted to fuck you.

And you definitely wanted to fuck him.

So the next time he came over to see you after mowing his lawn, you offered him a beer.

“I’m already halfway through mine,” you said, leaning back to give him a full view of the way the sweat on your breasts shone in the hot sun. “don’t make me day drink alone.”

A salacious grin curled on his plush pink lips. “I could be tempted,” Eddie peered at the cooler beside you. “What are you drinking, sweetheart?”

You opened the cooler so that he could see the six pack of light lagers in shiny green bottles. Eddie wrinkled his nose distastefully. “Alright, young padawan,” he sighed, unlatching the gate to your backyard. “It’s time you learned your first lesson from Master Munson.” He didn’t enter the backyard, simply opened the gate and waited for you to join him outside your parents’ property.

You quirked an eyebrow; this was new territory. That wrought iron fence had always served as a sort of barrier between the two of you, never occupying the same space and keeping each other at arm’s length- flirty banter, but with boundaries.

Now, you smiled shrewdly as you slipped on your flip flops and crossed the threshold into Eddie’s space, following him across the narrow street to his driveway.

“Oh so I’m your student now, Master?” you quipped, launching him into a dark chuckle and a shake of his curls.

“Christ,” he cursed under his breath low enough that he probably thought you hadn’t heard- but you did. “Well, your college friends are obviously shitty teachers if your drink of choice is a basic ass bottle you can grab at the goddamn gas station.”

You scoffed, “Oh, what- are you trying to say you’re one of those pretentious beer snobs who only drinks micro-brewed IPA’s named after bad puns?”

Eddie laughed out loud, smiling ear to ear at you over his shoulder. “Oh that’s exactly what I am, princess!” The harsh sunlight finally relented as the two of you crossed into Eddie’s garage, and you followed him in a beeline to the old refrigerator in the corner opposite from his impressive-looking toolbench.

You nearly moaned with relief when the cool air from the fridge hit you as Eddie opened the door and grabbed a couple of unmarked silver cans from the middle shelf. You eyed them cautiously, which Eddie saw and snorted at when he saw your expression. “Not poisoning you, sweetheart, no need to worry.” He opened a door beside the fridge that you guessed- judging by what you could see past the doorway- led to his kitchen. “A friend of mine is a home-brewer, he gives these to me and the guys for free. Way better than any cookie-cutter shit you’ll find at a college party.” He held the door open for you, nodding his head toward the doorway. “You coming inside? It’s hot as hell out here.”

You hadn’t expected him to invite you into his home; it occurred to you suddenly that you were still only wearing your swimsuit. Smiling shyly, you stepped through the doorway, the chill of the air conditioning rolling goosebumps over your damp skin. Eddie stepped into the kitchen and immediately began opening the cans, handing one to you.

You eyed the can cautiously, raising an eyebrow at him. “Do I want to know what I’m about to drink?’

He smiled mischievously, inclining his head toward you as he held his can aloft. “First lesson, padawan- trust your master.” He tilted the can in your direction, to which you sighed and tapped your can to his.

Your eyes widened in surprise when the cold, bubbly liquid hit your lips. It wasn’t anything like you were expecting- instead of the tepid wheaty taste that you were used to. At first the drink was tart, but after a second it faded into a fruity dryness that reminded you of white wine. Its flavor was so light that you couldn’t even tell you were drinking beer.

“This is beer?”

Eddie chuckled. “Technically it’s a sour, but yes- it’s a type of beer. Dustin said it was a champagne sour, so if you like wine then hopefully this’d be up your alley.”

You smiled as you took your second sip. “I do like wine.” you murmured, testing the flavors on your tongue. “Like this, too. Your friend ever think about selling what he brews?”

“Dustin?” Eddie asked, laughing as if the question were something funny. “Oh I have no doubt he’ll try to sell it one day, but he’s not going to even think about it until he knows he’s perfected his recipe.”

As you took another sip of the cold drink, you felt another wave of goosebumps run through you. Coincidentally, this was the moment that Eddie fell perfectly silent. You peered over your can- his eyes were fixed on your chest. You became acutely aware that the goosebumps had resulted in your nipples growing so hard, you thought if something-anything- were to accidentally brush against them, you might moan from the sensitivity.

Stifling a smirk, you shivered and hugged your upper arms. “Brrrrr it’s cold in here!” you said coyly, “I guess my body temperature got a little too used to the heat.”

Eddie’s chest heaved slightly at the way your tits bounced and squeezed together when you shivered. He cleared his throat, looking down at the beer can in his hand for a moment. “I’ve got a hot tub, you know,” He spoke up, peering at you to gauge your reaction. “Downstairs. You’re welcome to it.”

You took another sip. “Only if you join me.”

His dark eyes snapped up to yours, lips curling up at one corner. “Yes ma’am.” he said, his voice lowered an octave and a bit huskier than before. You held his eye contact, mirroring his lopsided grin with a charged, heavy-lidded gaze.

Eddie led you to a staircase down the hall and said he’d be right back with a towel for you after he changed into swim trunks.

“Aw, no speedo?” you smirked. Eddie appeared unphased. “Mental note,” he murmured to himself, “the princess is eager to see my thighs.”

You giggled, “There might be more tattoos there I haven’t seen yet,” you countered, “How am I supposed to keep figuring you out if I don’t know the meaning of each and every one?”

Eddie placed his forearm above your head on the wall, leaning into it until he was close enough for you to feel his breath on your hairline. “You know, you seem to spend a lot of time staring at my body, kid-” You bristled at his blatant omission of the nicknames you liked. “-I’m starting to feel objectified.”

You forced the smile from your face, looking up at him defiantly. “I could say the same thing about you, Mr. Munson,” you replied, “-and I’m not a ‘kid’.”

His position didn’t change as his eyes raked over your nearly naked body, drifting from your eyes to your lips and catching on your cleavage. “Don’t I know it, sweetheart.” he whispered, before pushing off the wall. “Hot tub’s already heated, just push off the cover and hit the green button. I’ll be down in a sec.”

And then he was walking down the hall to what you could only assume was his bedroom. For a moment, you thought about following him… but if you were honest with yourself, you were actually pretty curious about this hot tub. So down the stairs you went, carrying a silver can of sour in each hand.

Eddie’s basement was cozy, but he had utilized the space to its full potential. The majority had been filled with workout equipment to create a home gym, the walls lined with floor to ceiling mirrors that created the illusion of a larger space than it actually was. Sitting on stylish wooden slats was the hot tub, topped with a brown leather cover. To the right of the hot tub was a door with a small window that was just at your eye level. Upon closer inspection… yep, that was a sauna. Eddie had a sauna.

Shaking your head in disbelief, you made a mental note to ask Eddie what he did for a living- as far as you could tell, he was the only one who lived here. How did a single guy in his forties have so much money to burn?

Placing yours and Eddie’s drinks down on a nearby surface, you removed the cover from the hot tub and pressed the green button as Eddie had instructed, and settled into the hot, bubbling water. God, it was relaxing. Just then, you heard footsteps descending the stairs.

Eddie appeared, his hair let down from his normal messy bun so that it fell in dark chocolate curls that cascaded over his shoulders. His swim trunks, simple and black with little white skulls lining the cuffs above his knees, hugged his thighs in a way that made you salivate. Tattoos you'd become all too familiar with danced across his skin, and you suddenly felt the need to taste them.

Eddie smirked when he saw you getting an eyeful without even trying to hide it. “How’s the water?”

You hummed, relaxing further into jets against your back. “Sooooooo nice.” You sighed.

Eddie climbed into the hot tub to join you, making you squeal as he practically fell into the water, splashing you as he submerged his head just enough to wet his hair and shake it out like a golden retriever.

You giggled, doing your best to ensure that your hair wasn’t wet enough to make you look like a wet rat. “I’m starting to think you’re a teenage boy trapped in the body of a middle-aged man.”

Eddie narrowed his eyes at you, tattooed arms stretching out over the edges of the tub as he relaxed into the seat across from you. “Hey now,” he said, voice laced with warning. “Careful with the term middle-aged there, kiddo.”

You matched his gaze, challenging. “Kiddo?”

“Yeah.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Eddie’s gaze was heavy, cocky as he looked down his nose at you. “Practically a baby.”

You grinned. “That one, I don’t mind.”

Eddie’s smile grew in tandem. “Oh, she likes to be ‘baby’, but not ‘kiddo’, huh?”

You leaned back into the water, looking up at the ceiling with a smug smile on your lips. “That’s right, grandpa.”

Suddenly, you felt a tug on your ankle and you were underwater. You emerged, spitting chlorine out of your mouth, struggling to force it from your nose as Eddie’s cackling rang in your ears. You gasped, sputtering in shock as you tried to catch your breath.

“You are a child!” you squealed as he tugged your ankle again- you hadn’t noticed his hold still grasping tightly- not forceful enough to bring you back under the surface but enough to remind you that he could.

“So not a grandpa, then?” Eddie teased, stroking the curve of your ankle with his thumb.

You gritted your teeth together, strategizing. “No, that would be too kind. You’ve got the maturity of a teenager. Luckily for me-”

Using Eddie’s grip on your ankle as leverage, you forcefully pulled yourself forward by your leg and launched yourself right into his lap, bending your knees so that a second later, you were straddling him.

You watched triumphantly as Eddie’s eyes widened, looking up at you with breath that hitched in his throat as you finished your sentence.

“-I know how boys like you think.”

The humor between the two of you dissipated in that instant, Eddie’s eyes blown wide and dark as he watched the way the water in your hair dripped down your neck and between your breasts, which were now inches from his face. If he leaned forward, he could catch that bead of water with his tongue. If he reached up, he could hold your tits in his hands, test their weight. Press them up, squish them together, squeeze…

You felt him growing hard beneath you, and smirked triumphantly. “See?” You said smugly, grinding against him teasingly. “Right on schedule.”

Eddie chuckled, his breathing strained as he shook his head exasperatedly. “Got me all figured out, do you princess?”

You nodded, finding your rhythm as you continued to grind against his hardening cock through his swim trunks. “I think I’m starting to.”

You shivered despite the warmth as Eddie trailed his hand from your ankle up your leg, your hip, your waist…finally resting at the apex of your sternum to splay across your neck. You hadn’t been expecting that- you faltered, breath hitching as he tested out a gentle squeeze and hummed to himself.

“Mmmmm…” He looked you over with passive attention, taking account of the way your eyes widened and your pulse quickened under his thumb. “...you know, I’m starting to figure you out too.” His other hand cupped your hip, pulling you to sit directly on his erection and holding you in place so you couldn’t grind. “You’re used to getting away with shit you know you shouldn’t do, isn’t that right, baby?” You sighed softly in response, pinned into place by his lust-blown eyes. You balanced on a precipice- on one side, obedience, which you knew would satisfy him. On the other, eventual obedience with a little bit more fight; more of a gamble, but you were willing to bet that he would enjoy that best.

“You really thought you could eye-fuck me every damn afternoon,” Eddie said, his hand on your neck moving lower to fondle one of your breasts over your swimsuit. “-and there wouldn’t be consequences?”

You breathed heavily, chest rising and falling under his hand. “I mean…” you drawled, still smiling smugly despite his authoritative tone of voice. “...I was kinda hoping for consequences.” you brought both hands out of the water, gesturing vaguely to the room around you. “I’m here, aren’t I?”

A second passed before Eddie’s hands suddenly grabbed both of your wrists, forcing them behind your back. You gasped, cheeks hot from the water and the position you were in, straddling his lap with both shoulders shoved back to force your breasts front and center. He saw the look in your eyes and leaned forward, lips brushing the shell of your ear.

“I can get rough sometimes, baby.” he said, voice low and husky. “Tell me it’s too much at any point and I’ll stop, okay?” You nodded, a shy little mm-hm escaping your bitten lips. Eddie crossed your wrists over each other, holding them behind your back with one hand as his newly free one reached up to caress your cheek.

“Fucking Christ, you’re cute.” he mumbled. “Cute little baby, all alone in her parents’ big house all day, so bored she had to go and be a slut for the neighbor. That right, baby?”

Your eyes were wide and wet, mouth opened in a slight pout as you ground your freed hips on his hard cock once again, whimpering needily. You nodded your head up and down, eager to hear more filthy words tumble from his lips.

Eddie wasn’t satisfied with that. A hand came up to grasp your hair at the base of your neck, tugging on it firmly but not painfully to force your head to nod up and down emphatically. “Use your words, baby, say ‘yes, daddy, I was a slut.’”

You gasped, surprised. You’d never called anyone daddy besides your actual father, and you’d certainly never called anyone that in the bedroom- or a hot tub, for that matter. However, his brazen demand that you call him that while you straddled him like this sent rolling waves of pleasure straight to the apex of your thighs.

“Y-yes… daddy…” You struggled against your instinct to be embarrassed, arching your back against your restrained hands and looking down shyly at your cleavage. “...I was a slut.”

“Look at me.”

Your eyes flicked up to his, wide and obedient. He was smiling at you, beaming with pride and adoration. His hand slid from your hair to the back of your neck, pulling your face to his. “Good girl, baby.” he praised, “I’m gonna kiss you, is that okay?”

You nodded eagerly. “Yes, please!”

That earned you a chuckle. “So polite, baby girl, good job.”

Eddie’s lips felt like the most comforting thing that a person could feel on their skin. His kiss felt like fresh sheets still warm from the dryer. His tongue was like a strawberry that was perfectly ripe, sweet and wet and a rush of relief. He explored you, he learned you, his lips devoured all they could reach and whenever they couldn’t reach, his tongue took over to fill in the blanks.

As you whimpered and squirmed in his lap, Eddie cooed, “What’s the matter, baby, something wrong with your legs?”

You shook your head, moaning into his mouth. “I need something on my clit, Eddie.”

“Something? You’ll just take anything on that clit baby? Is that what you're saying?”

You panted, straining against his rock hard dick for some kind of friction. He was right, you would take anything. “Yes, please touch me, Eddie.”

He made no move to do so, only looking at you pointedly with his eyebrows raised. When you realized your mistake, you corrected, “Please touch me, daddy.”

He smiled smugly, a cat watching a mouse. “Good girl,” he praised, “but I’m not sure you’ve earned that.”

Your face fell, eyes going wide as your lips formed a full-on pout. “But-” you began to stutter, but Eddie wasn’t finished.

He let go of you, pushing you gently off you and guiding you under the water to one of the seats in the corner of the tub. The jets coming off it were strong, nearly too much on your back as you turned to sit, but Eddie stopped you before you could settle into the seat.

“Princess, I want you to keep your knees open and ride your pussy on that jet stream until you cum.”

Your jaw dropped open. Whipping your chin over your shoulder to look at him in his seat opposite you, you stared and waited for him to specify or maybe apologize for misspeaking- there’s no way you heard him right. But then he repeated himself, and you realized that yes, you had.

“Press your pussy up against that jet stream under the water, and make yourself cum. Don’t use your hands. Don’t rush. I want you to fall apart in my hot tub, and I’m going to stroke my dick while I watch you do it. That okay, sweetheart?”

You were learning a lot of new information about your neighbor today.

You smiled devilishly over your shoulder at him, taking in the sight of him lounging in the opposite corner of the tub as he took in the sight of you. “You’re a kinky motherfucker, aren’t you?”

Eddie reached across the tub and wound an arm around your waist, pulling you in for a quick but heated kiss. “Yeah, I am.” he murmured into your lips before pushing you back toward the jets. “Now make yourself cum, I want you tight.”

He laughed at the pathetic little whimper that you let slip involuntarily as you situated yourself against the jet stream. You balanced your weight on your knees, spreading your legs enough to open your pussy further inside your swimsuit. Once the pulsing stream of water made contact with your clit, your automatic impulse was to flinch away; the stream was strong, almost too strong. However, with a little shifting and repositioning, you eventually found an angle that pulled a moan from your mouth that sounded almost pornographic.

“That’s it, baby girl,” you heard Eddie’s rough voice behind you, and you couldn’t help but sneak a peak over your shoulder at him. Eddie sat with legs spread open and one arm slung over the lip of the tub, his other hand palming the erection you knew was only growing harder over his swim trunks. This told you he was a patient man, a man who liked to be teased a little before taking what he wanted. A man who liked to play with his food before he ate it.

You could play, too.

You pulled your eyebrows together, pouting your lips the way you’d seen him react to earlier. “Am I doing it right for you, daddy?” You moved your hips up and down against the jet, putting on a little show for him.

Eddie raised a brow, amused. “I don’t think I can answer that question for you, sweetheart.” he said, sighing heavily with pleasure as he tilted his head this way and that to take you in from every angle. “Don’t worry about me, baby, just make yourself feel good.”

You smiled shyly, nodding in response and turning your attention back to the jets. You maneuvered your hips against them, grinding on the strong jetstream as it hit your clit at angles that you didn’t even know existed. You lost yourself in the sensation, letting your eyes fall closed and humming little sounds to yourself as your heart rate picked up, that familiar pleasure bubbling up in your lower belly as your movements grew faster and more desperate.

Eager to see if Eddie was enjoying himself as much as you were, you glanced over your shoulder to look at him. What you saw was breathtaking- Eddie, his wet curls clinging to his dewy skin, muscles flexing under his tattoos as he fisted his cock underwater. You couldn’t see it clearly due to the raging bubbles, but the flesh-colored underwater blur was enough for you to know exactly what he was doing. You had known he would jack off to you- he’d outright told you he planned to- but seeing it was enough to turn you on so much that it became the thing that pushed you over the edge.

“Daddy, I’m cumming!”

You moaned, mouth hanging open as you rode out your orgasm against the harsh stream of the jets, overwhelmed and overstimulated by the physical feeling and the intense eye contact that you held with Eddie the entire time as your body gyrated and spasmed. He watched you with hungry eyes, lapping up the scene in its entirety and committing every second to memory.

“Good girl, good fucking girl, keep fucking that jet, baby.”

You whimpered, hips jerking away from the stream as it hit your clit at an angle that was a little too intense, and your limp, still-needy body floated over to Eddie. He chuckled, still stroking his cock lightly in the warm water. “Aw, I’m sorry baby, was that too much?”

You shook your head, still eager for him- he’d barely even touched you, and yet you were so desperate for this man. “No, I can take more.”

His eyes had a darkness to them that made your breath hitch. “How much can you take, sweetheart?”

You moved to straddle your knees on either side of one of his thighs, not close enough to grind against his cock, but certainly in a perfect position to rub your pussy along his leg, teasing him. “I’ll take whatever you wanna give me, daddy.”

A low groan sounded from deep in Eddie’s chest. “You might regret saying that one, babe.”

You couldn’t resist matching his warning with a challenge. “Bring it on.” you said sweetly, and it incited a little chuckle in him. He reached back and pressed a button on the hot tub, causing all of the bubbles to stop.

“Get out, dry off.” he said, nodding to the neatly folded towels he’d placed beside the hot tub. “You look like you could use a shower.”

You stayed put, confused. “You… but…”

He cut you off, cupping his wet hands against your face. You could feel the pads of his fingers on your cheeks, wrinkled from prolonged time under the water’s surface. “Sorry, sweetheart, I forgot you don’t like following instructions unless you know you’re getting something out of it.” You scoffed at his condescending tone, but all he did was smile. “What I meant to say was- get out. Dry off. I’m going to fuck you in my shower. Mmkay?”

Your eyes widened, excited by his words and elated by a strange submissive, post-orgasmic euphoria. “Okay.” you replied, but when you saw his testy look in response you quickly amended, “Okay daddy.”

“Good girl.”

The two of you dried off before heading back upstairs. Eddie let you down the hall to his bedroom, which you were sure was filled with so many interesting mementos on the walls that you were sure it would take you hours to study all of it. The first thing to catch your eye was the golden record, framed and mounted beside his dresser. When Eddie saw you looking at it, he supplied an answer without waiting for you to ask.

“Ever heard of a band called Corroded Coffin?”

You searched your brain but came up empty. “No, I don’t think I have.”

Eddie chuckled to himself, like you’d just participated in a joke you weren’t in on. “Most people haven’t. But I bet you’ve heard the song Upside Down on the radio, yeah?” He hummed a couple bars of the chorus, which you recognized instantly.

“Oh yeah! I love that song!”

Eddie grinned. “‘Preciate it, babe.”

Shocked, you glanced up at the record and back to him. “Wait, you wrote that song?”

He shrugged as if to brush it off, but you could tell he was proud. “It was a group effort, my band and I wrote and recorded it together. After that, though, when the offers for record deals and tours and shit started pouring in, it became clear to most of the band members that this wasn’t what they wanted to do for the rest of their lives- band broke up on good terms, we just had some differences when it came to future plans.” He reached up and stroked the frame affectionately with his thumb. “But one-hit-wonder money was still enough to get my name out there, make some smart investments. I’m a music producer now.”

So that’s how he made all this money. The big empty house made sense now. “That’s pretty cool, actually.” you said, smiling at Eddie. You relished the sensation of his hands as they slid around your waist.

“You wanna see something even cooler?”

Before you could answer, Eddie was scooping you up into his arms and tossing you over his shoulder. You squealed, laughing as his palm hit your ass cheek with a loud smack! He carried you into his bathroom, placing you on his vanity counter before kissing the laughing smile right off your face. You felt his hands as they worked your bathing suit off you, freeing your breasts from the confines of the damp fabric. Eddie wasted no time, pulling one of your tits into his hand and encircling your nipple with his mouth, sucking sensually. You moaned, hands fisting into his hair. He only left your skin to turn around and turn on the shower, giving the water a chance to heat up.

Once the bathroom had sufficiently filled with steam, Eddie picked you up from the counter, pulling your legs around his waist and your arms around his neck. You kissed him greedily, wetly, and hungrily as he walked the two of you into his spacious tiled shower, which was larger than your dorm room closet back at school.

You relaxed your legs around him in a silent ask for Eddie to put you down, which he obliged. The moment your feet hit the wet tiled floor, you began to sink to your knees until…

You snorted.

“Why do you still have your swim trunks on?”

Eddie had taken the time to take off your bathing suit, but you hadn’t even realized that even after carrying you into the shower, he hadn’t even taken a second to undress himself.

He looked down, noticing this for the first time, same as you. “I, uh… I don’t know. I was-” he flashed you a smirk that was equal parts embarrassed and sexy. “-preoccupied, I guess.”

You couldn’t help but laugh as you knelt before him, now eye-level with the drawstring of his swim trunks. “Well let me fix that, then.” you said softly, working your delicate fingers into the waistband and pulling his trunks down until they hit the floor.

God. He was a sight to behold. And you were right, he did have thigh tattoos. They were large, twisting images of hellish creatures, undoubtedly older but still in good shape since- judging by the paleness of the skin they decorated- they probably never saw the light of day.

You reached up, lightly tracing them as you turned your gaze to his cock. It was at full mast, eager and waiting for your mouth to encircle it and, hopefully, make Eddie moan your name.

Which he did.

The way your lips covered the head of his cock, the way your tongue generously licked the shaft under, over, around, the way your hands were warm and welcoming as they lightly played with his balls- all of it made him moan, gasp, groan your name. He called you baby, called you princess, moaned and pulled your hair as he fucked your mouth, and you just about burst into flames when he shoved his cock so far down your throat that you swallowed on it accidentally, pulling a growled “Goddamnit, sweetheart, fuck-” from his lips.

When he pulled you off his dick by your hair, his eyes were humorless and hungry. He crouched down, leveling your eyes under the hot water from the showerhead.

“Are you on birth control, sweet girl?” he asked.

You nodded, “I have an IUD.”

He kissed your forehead firmly, one hand still fisted in your hair. “Good girl,” he murmured. “Now I can grab a condom, they’re right over there in the cabinet under my sink.” he continued, nodding vaguely in the sink’s direction. “But baby, I have been fantasizing about the way your pussy’s gonna feel for a long ass time and I hate to ask you this, and you’re allowed to say no, but-”

“Fuck me raw Eddie.” You wanted it. You needed it. You needed him. “I fantasize about it too. I think about it every day, I touch myself to you before going to sleep and wake up wishing your cock was the thing waking me up. When I’m lying by the pool reading those stupid smutty novels and some lord is fucking a lady in waiting up against a wall, I can’t focus on it! I can’t because I want it to be you and I want to feel your cock inside me, and I want it to be your cum that drips down my thighs and your lips on my-”

He cut you off there, splaying his free hand on your neck and kissing you until you were laid horizontally on the hot, wet floor. He climbed on top of you, and in a moment your mouth fell open at the sensation of his hard cock splitting you open from the inside. He didn’t spend a moment waiting for you to adjust to his size or murmuring praises into your ear- he knew you wanted all of him, and you knew he wanted all of you, and that was all you needed. You moaned, you practically screamed, and above all you clutched him for dear life.

“Dirty girl,” Eddie growled into your ear, thrusting into you deep and hard. “Dirty books, dirty mind-”

He leaned back so that his face was directly above yours and grabbed your cheeks, squeezing to force your mouth open. Your lips parted, and Eddie spat harshly into your mouth before shoving your mouth closed around it. His eyes were feral, wild with lust and dominance. “Swallow.” he commanded, you obeyed in an instant. He felt your throat moving against his hand and smiled deviously. “Dirty mouth, too.”

He picked up his pace, spearing into you at a pace so relentless that you couldn’t even keep track of the noises coming out of your mouth- an incoherent stream of sounds and swear that would have made a sailor blush. He matched your dirty noises with his own, all the while dicking you down into his shower floor as your brain went haywire at the lewd noises of skin slapping against skin that echoed through the bathroom.

“God, this pussy is so fucking tight,” Eddie groaned, “good girl, cumming so hard for daddy back there. You gonna cum on my cock this time?”

You moaned, “Need something on my clit, daddy.”

Eddie pecked your lips with his own, and the way it made your heart skip a beat was like a reward. “Good girl, always tell me what you need, okay?”

You nodded, smiling giddily from the sudden subby euphoria. “Okay, daddy.” You made a mental note that kissing Eddie Munson while his cock was inside you gave you your new favorite kind of high.

Eddie reached down and began drawing small, soft circles with his fingertip on your clit. The richly gentle sensation was decadent, pulling deeper, louder moans from you as Eddie continued to fuck you. “Oh I feel you getting tighter, baby girl, that feel good?”

“Yes!” you practically yelled it.

“Yes what?” He taunted.

“Yes daddy!” you cried, arching your back against the tile. He was fucking you ruthlessly, ravaging you mentally, and the way his dirty words melted into you made your brain go so hazy that you weren’t sure if your vision was clouding or if it was just the steam in the air.

Your release was growing closer, that heat in your core coiling tighter and tighter, ready to burst with pleasure. “I’m gonna cum soon, daddy.” you whined.

Eddie’s dick hit you in that perfect spot inside over and over, and you leaned your face against his hand as he cupped your cheek affectionately. “Yeah? You gonna make a mess all over daddy’s dick?” You pouted, nodding ‘yes’ in response. Eddie smiled at the way you could be so cute and so filthy at the same time- he fucking loved it. “That’s probably gonna make me cum, sweetheart, you want that? That pussy’s gonna grip my cock so tight that it fills you with cum, huh?”

You were whimpering and pouting and letting the sluttiest little sobs fall from you now. “Yes, daddy, fill me with cum, please!”

“You want me to fill you with cum? Fuck all that cum inside you?”

“Yes!”

“Yes what, sweetheart, gotta tell me whose dick you’re cumming on-”

“Daddy!” you cried, “Daddy’s dick, I’m cumming on daddy’s dick!”

“Fuuuck, yes, cum on daddy’s dick you little slut-”

Eddie’s filthy words tumbled from his lips as your pussy pulsed around him, fluttering walls squeezing him tight from the aching pleasure that shot through you. His cum filled you, and the size of his load reflected just how long it had been since he’d cum into anything that wasn’t his own hand. When he finally pulled out, a stream of both your releases oozed out of your hole and onto the floor. Eddie stared at it, fascinated, and he silently used his finger to catch the milky liquid and push it back into your hole. You whimpered, overly sensitive and puffy, your pussy lips inflamed and screaming, but Eddie was gentle as he sheathed his finger completely inside you, ensuring that his seed stayed exactly where he’d put it in the first place.

He pulled you up to a sitting position, smiling gently. “Hi.” he whispered, placing a soft kiss on your temple.

“Hi.” you giggled, a giant smile stretching out across your face, blissed-out and more than satisfied.

Eddie stroked your wet hair out of your face, gazing down at you adoringly. “I’m sorry if that was a little… much,” he winced. “I may have gotten carried away, usually I would talk to you to see if that kind of stuff would be okay, but I was just so fired up-”

“Eddie,” you interrupted softly. “I loved it.”

He grinned, grateful and relieved. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

Eddie pulled you against him, your body fitting itself nicely against his naked chest as water poured over the two of you from above while you sat holding each other on the floor of his shower. He sighed, completely and utterly content. “Yeah.”

***

The rest of the summer days in your parents’ neighborhood went like this:

Wake up imagining what you and Eddie would do today. Touch yourself when necessary.

Do whatever chores needed doing around the house, sometimes making batches of lemonade for Eddie when you knew he would be working on his lawn that day.

Lounge by your pool and read a book- this part hadn’t changed.

Spend the rest of the afternoon at Eddie’s. These afternoons usually consisted of activities like discussing the whatever book you were reading, drinking whatever strange new beer Dustin had come up with, and fucking each other’s brains out.

The next month, Eddie celebrated his birthday. He didn’t throw a rager (true to his word) but he did have a little get-together. To your surprise, he invited you.

You got to meet his friends, their kids, their dogs- and see the way Eddie smiled for hours without reprieve when they were around. This whole summer, you’d been figuring this man out bit by bit, but it wasn’t until that night that you truly felt like you knew him.

You baked him a cake, as promised. Three layers of funfetti sponge, vanilla frosting and decorated with oreo crumbs and rainbow letters that spelled out “Happy birthday, Eddie, forever young”.

He wasn’t this way with the rest of the neighbors. To them, he would always be Mr. 1405 Peach Tree Lane, but with these people? With his friends? He was Eddie Munson. Now, you were included in that group of people who were allowed to know him, and how wonderful he really was.

You felt so incredibly lucky that you were a part of that.

#eddie munson x reader #older!eddie munson #neighbor!eddie #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson #eddie stranger things #stranger things fic #modern au

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noctiva · 4 months ago

Note

Yandere Toby hc-🪽

angel anon I see all ur asks in my inbox… what are we hehe *twirls hair*

Yandere!Toby Headcannons

CW!! Stalking, obsessive behaviour, mentions of death + murder, 18+ content, sexual content

slight NSFW under the cut! minors do not interact!

—

Yandere!Toby thinks he’s doing it all for your sake

Because he knows what’s best for you, and what’s best for you is him.

He knows how to treat you better than anyone else. Knows all of your favourite shows, foods, hobbies, and places to go (maybe only because he sneaks around your house when you think you’re alone, peeking through the windows to gaze at your beauty)

Yandere!Toby leaves you gifts and love notes. Pretty rocks he thinks you’d like, animal bones he cleaned just for you, pretty jewelry and hair clips he stole from his victims. All slipped into your mailbox, or left on your porch wrapped in a ribbon.

Yandere!Toby won’t hesitate to kill, but he’ll do it discreetly - leaving you wondering why all of your love interests just keep disappearing.

Yandere!Toby has snuck into your house once or twice (or three, four, five times) to steal little items from you that he’s sure you won’t miss.

Besides your favourite sweater - he took that too. Stuffing it with a pillow so he can fall asleep cuddled up against your scent, dreaming that one day he’ll have his arms wrapped around your body instead.

(And you don’t want it back, because more often than not he ends up hopelessly rutting against it - the smell of your perfume getting him harder than he’s ever been)

Yandere!Toby is patient at first. Hopeful that you’ll realize the truth eventually (the truth being, that you’ll be happiest with him).

But that patience doesn’t last long, because why don’t you get it? Why are you wasting time with all of these idiots when he’s right here? Showering you with love and appreciation you could never find elsewhere?

Though, he’d never really blame you. You were perfect. The fault was laid on every one else. For distracting you, leading you astray. Keeping you from him, and tainting your mind.

Yandere!Toby keeps trophies from all of the people he’s killed to gain your affection. His favourite being the jar of teeth that rests on his nightstand.

Yandere!Toby has your name carved into the handle of his hatchet. Because he’s doing this all for you. Not caring how bloody he has to get if it means the end goal is your lips on his.

Yandere!Toby likes to watch you sleep.

Likes to see you so peaceful. That’s when you’re the most beautiful, in his opinion. All blissful and unaware.

He could do anything to you. Anything.

But he’d wait. Because if he wanted a limp doll he’d just go back to humping your sweater. He wanted to hear you cry out his name, feel your nails drag down his back.

So the worst he’d do while you were sleeping was snip off a lock of your hair. From the back, so you wouldn’t notice it as quick.

He keeps it in a locket around his neck.

(But he often takes it out to sniff it.)

Yandere!Toby stole a Polaroid camera just to document you.

And when he prints the pictures out, he sticks them right on the wall next to his bed.

Pictures of you sleeping, at work, laughing with friends.

The pictures of you undressing, he keeps in his nightstand. Along with a pair of panties he snagged from your drawer.

He would return them, so that you could wash them and reinvigorate the scent of your laundry soap - but he’s sure that the new stains would catch your attention.

Yandere!Toby knows it’ll only take time. Because one day, you’ll have no choice but to love him - because there’ll be no one else left.

—————————————————————————☆

this is my first time doin a list of headcannons so I hope it’s alright 🙏🙏

thank you for the request!

#toby rogers #creepypasta #creepypasta headcanon #creepypasta x reader #creepypasta x you #ticci toby #ticci toby x reader #ticci toby x you #ticci toby x female reader #toby rogers x reader #Toby rogers headcannon #ticci toby headcanons #ticci toby hc #creepypasta hcs #creepypasta x female reader

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crescenthistory · 1 month ago

Note

heyy, i’ve never done this before so sorry if i’m doing it wrong. can i request a barty crouch jr x fem! reader where the reader’s mom said something really mean to her and the reader’s hands start shaking cause she’s nervous and there’s no way to really stop it and then like barty comforting her or trying to make it stop. sorry ik it’s like a lot 😭 but thank you :)

hi my lovely nonnie<33 you're not doing it wrong at all, this was perfect! i am sending you the biggest hug 🫂

wc: 1.6k

cw: fem!reader, anxiety attack/averted panic attack, fluffy hurt/comfort, implied abusive mother, established relationship, physical affection, minor pyromaniac!barty

It was a terrible idea to open the letter in the Great Hall.

You knew that, truly you did. Yet somehow you seemed to forget between every letter just how awful they would always be, somehow assuming, hoping that this one would not be as bad as the last.

It wasn’t as bad as the last – no, your mother’s most recent letter to you, sealed in a scarlet red that burned through your retinas, far outdid the others. The letter itself was not even mortifyingly long, it was barely half a page, but each word cut through you as if the edges of the letters were knives sharpened against your heart.

The worst words seemed to be illuminated by neon lights, screaming off the page at a volume that surely the entire table, if not the entire hall, would be able to see. Your pain served on a silver platter beside the dinner feast you had been bestowed this Saturday evening.

You should be prepared for this by now, you told yourself. She should not be able to get to you.

Your best wishes and efforts were neglected, and she still got to you – every time.

You had entirely zoned out of any and all conversation when the owl discreetly dropped your letter off. The light parchment was clutched between your fingers in your lap as you disappeared into a bubble where only two people existed, one of which was not even present; only her words.

All sound and light around you drifted off into the abyss as your mind spiralled backwards through memory after memory, and the further away you seemed to go, the less control you had of your body. Your hands could not, would not let go of the paper, even when they began to shake. It was a terrible tremor, one that threatened to take over your whole body, spreading through your nerves like poison until it would eventually reach your voice and strip you of the ability to talk back to the shadows.

As your elbows began to shake, you had half a panicked mind to think about how you must surely be bumping into the students you were sitting beside, having entirely forgotten who you were sat with today yet being deeply terrified of angering them.

Before you managed to beat yourself up for failing to keep your elbows in, the person to your right suddenly scooted away, pushed out of your periphery.

In their place, came Barty. He straddled the bench, his whole body facing you. “Hey, hey,” he murmured, so quietly you could barely hear through the inferno inside. You were still trembling while clutching the parchment, eyes burning a hole through it.

Barty scooted closer to you, body almost flush against yours as he dipped his head down to catch your eye. A couple of his acid green strands fell in his face as he did so, a distracting stimulus.

In an act that felt heroic despite its mundaneness, he put both of his hands above yours, bringing them back down into your lap. He did not seem to mind at all that the letter got crumpled beneath both of you; he just engulfed your hands with his scratched up ones, squeezing.

“Hey, dragă, look at me, would you? Hm?” His voice was painfully gentle in a way you know almost none others had heard. A gift and a blessing.

You felt rude as you struggled to reward him with his own gift, your eyes glued on where the letter had been, your shoulders beginning to shake as your tremor spread. The heavy weight of his hands helped ground you, if only a little, and you found your body aching to lean sideways into his body.

Slowly, your mind was catching up. Barty had abandoned Evan and Regulus on the opposite side of the table, probably when he felt your foot slide away from where it rested beside his under the table in favour of tucking beneath your seat as panic began to seize you. Now he was here, and you were sure that meant eyes were on you – but at least he was here.

“Don’t mind her,” Barty urged quietly. He squeezed your hands intermittently to help bring you back down into your body. “Don’t mind her one bit love, she has no fucking clue what she’s talking about.”

You’re vaguely aware that he’s not cursing your mother out the way he would on better days, being mindful of your fragility in the moment. The realisation that he knew that this was a reaction brought forth by your mother simply from the state you were in both warmed and pained you.

“It’s alri–” you began, voice unsteady.

Barty kissed your cheek stubbornly, whispering against your skin. “It’s not. Fuck her, and anything she says. But you’re alright, dragă.”

With stuttering movements, you turned your head sideways to look at him. The tears that had been brimming in your lash line were slowly drying out as you could see every golden speck in his green eyes.

You let go of the letter that you had been clutching in despair. All crumpled up, it tumbled out of your lap to land on the floor beneath the Slytherin table. The tremble of your hands wasn’t eased in the slightest, but now you could turn your palms upwards and intertwine your fingers properly with Barty’s. He wasted no time crushing your hands to his, almost painfully so, a delicious press that helped soothe the stutters away, locking your limbs in place.

You let out a breath. Barty swallowed its remnants on your lips as he leaned in to capture your lips in a fierce kiss, body now flush against your side. He brought your tangled hands up to his chest, making you feel the beat of his heart.

“You’re good, baby,” he murmured, pressing small, sweet kisses around your face. Giving you as much stimuli as possible to tether you from floating away into your own mind. “You’re so good, I’ve got you.”

You closed your eyes, trying to memorialise his touch in your mind and use it to replace each treacherous word tumbling through you. At last, it felt like you could breathe a bit easier. The tremor that had been spreading throughout your body was slowly retreating.

“I shouldn’t have opened it,” you murmured. “I don’t know why I try.”

“Because you are painfully, awfully kind.” Barty pressed your hands harder against his chest, in stark contrast to how softly he kissed your closed eyelids. “I don’t know why you bother, but that’s the magic of you.”

“I don’t know if I want to anymore.” It slipped out past your lips before you could think. Barty retreated to look at you with his head tilted sideways, waiting for your eyes to open and meet his.

When they did, he whispered. “Then don’t. That would be an act of kindness towards yourself.”

As if you had been granted permission, you slumped your body sideways, leaning your weight against his chest. He moved to hold both of your hands with one of his in favour of wrapping an arm around your waist, holding you close to him. The tremor was almost completely gone now, leaving you weary. You were also increasingly feeling like there were a thousand eyes on you and had an instinct to hide – though you could at least hear your friends around you chattering away like normal, giving you space.

“Okay?” Barty asked, lips moving against the shell of your ear.

You nodded. “Yeah. I think so.”

You were about to thank him for being sweet, maybe give him another kiss. Before you could, though, Barty swiftly moved to scoop up the discarded letter with his boot and grabbed it with his free arm around you.

“Wonderful!” he declared. The next thing you knew, he tossed the letter into the air beside the bench and cast a quick incendio, making the whole thing burst into flames before smouldering to ashes.

Maybe the eyes on you earlier had been imagined, but this time they most surely were not. A small scream sounded from the Hufflepuff table adjacent to yours along with a general gasp from most in the vicinity. Regulus’ eye roll was silent, but you knew in your heart that if you turned your head, you would see it. Barty just cackled at the reactions, his hand already having retreated to hold you close.

“Mr. Crouch!” The unmistakable sound of a frustrated Professor McGonagall sounded from across the Great Hall.

Barty looked downwards at where you were all but trying to hide in his arms. He flashed you a grin, but you could see the lingering concern and love in his eyes. “Ready to dart, my love?”

“I think we have to.” You weren’t even able to sound upset with him.

“Good. I’ve got an owl I want to send and a girl I want to spoil silly.”

Despite your still slightly unstable legs and though you would stop him from sending that owl, your face was finally blessed with a smile as you let Barty drag you out of the Great Hall with his hand in yours.

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heartnearu · 2 months ago

Text

warm silence | p.sh

park sunghoon x f!reader [ONE SHOT]

synopsis: you brighten sunghoons world the same way the sun brings warmth to a cold day. to him, you’re everything. you’re the hush in his heart, the softness in all his hard edges, the steady in his storm, his anchor, his home. yet somehow, you felt out of reach—like a dream he could never quite hold onto.

genre: angst / romance / SLOW burn

tropes: childhood best friends / first love / boy next door / coming of age / SELF SABOTAGE

DISCLAIMER!! i am no professional. i am simply an insomniac with an idea. my writing may be terrible but this is only for fun. this is FICTION!

WC: 8k

songs: when the sun hits - slow dive | all i need - radiohead | we are the people - empire of the sun | meet me halfway - black eyed peas

NOTE: high school! AU | reader uses she/her pronouns. i currently cannot think of any possible warnings, but if you suggest what i should put after reading it i will happily do so :)

⊱ ─── ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ ─── ⊰

the persistent tapping on his window pulls sunghoon from the restless dream that had kept him from getting a good night’s sleep.

with a groan, he turned over and buried himself beneath the blanket, wishing he could somehow melt into the mattress and eventually disintegrate into the air so he could at least be at peace.

who needs him this early anyways?

whoever or whatever it is that’s tapping annoyingly can wait until later when he actually has the power to socialize. he’d rather apologize for ‘not hearing’ their calls or say that he ‘thought it was a bird’ than lose sleep and get up early.

he should be grateful—after all, he was awaken from a bad dream that never seemed to end. but he still clung to the hope of getting a few more hours of sleep, convinced nothing could stop him. sleeping is one of the very few escapes that asked for nothing in return.

the constant tapping went to a sudden halt. with his eyes still closed, sunghoon smiled at the profound silence as he shifted in his bed to get comfortable.

everything from his sheets to his current position felt perfect—he could already tell that it was going to be a good few hour nap by how he was sinking into the mattress.

just as sleep began to take him, a voice suddenly shattered the silence.

“sunghoon! you’re lucky i don’t have anything else to throw at your window, because i promise you i would’ve kept going!”

at the sound of your voice, sunghoon’s eyes snapped open—without skipping a beat, he quickly got out of bed, almost face planting onto the floor in the process due to the blanket tangled around his legs.

by the time he was at his window, he was flushed and out of breath but opened the window without hesitation. across from him was you, leaning against your own window.

you blinked at his sudden presence in front of you and paused as he caught his breath. his gaze settles on you, eyes tracing your features with a quiet intensity, trying to memorize every detail.

an odd feeling blooms in his chest, subtle but persistent. it feels like he misses you, though you’re standing right in front of him, and he can’t quite understand why.

it’s feels as if it’s the first time he has seen you in a while, even though you did homework together just last night.

he pushes the feeling aside, deciding he’ll make sense of it later. just as his lips parted to voice his concerns—you burst into laughter.

the confusion growing on his face only fueled your giggle fit even more. you didn’t notice how his features softened at the scene in front of him.

you put a hand on your chest, trying to catch your breath,“if i would have known that calling for you worked more efficiently nowadays, i would have done so twenty something rocks ago.” you raise your voice slightly so he can hear you,“anyways.. you got less than fifteen minutes to get ready to leave because we’re gonna be late!”

“late?” sunghoon questioned with furrowed brows, “late to where?” he slightly tilted his head as he pondered what you could mean.

he couldn’t recall making plans with you—though he didn’t exactly oppose the idea of going out with you spontaneously.

“well..” you pause and cocked your head as you thought about it for a second, almost mimicking what sunghoon had done unconsciously. “not exactly late but you know, we wouldn’t get the usual view we do when we go around this time.”

you wave your hand trying to dismiss him,“go change, ask questions later” you try shooing him back into his room.

he frowned,“you’re no help. how do you expect me to change when i don’t even know where we’re going?”

you roll your eyes and smile,“you worry too much, just change and meet me outside. don’t forget your keys and your license ‘cause you’re driving today. just wear something you’ll be comfortable in and won’t regret wearing later, okay? see you in a bit hoonie!”

your eyes sparkled in anticipation before you closed your window, leaving no time for sunghoon to question you any longer.

sunghoon sighed and shook his head with a faint smile—what was he going to do with you?

・୨ ✦ ୧・

you hummed with the song playing on the video you watched on your phone as sunghoon started his car.

sunghoon tapped on the screen, trying to connect his phone to bluetooth,“so.. where are we going? ‘cause i can’t go anywhere without knowing a little bit about this place that you want us to go to.”

he turns to you with a lopsided grin, handing you his phone so that you can play music.

“hm.. i guess you’re right. well, i wanted to go to the lake we always used to go to when we were kids.” you replied, unlocking his phone so that you can get to spotify.

“the one our moms took us to every summer?” he asked, raising a brow.

you hummed, still scrolling on his phone looking for songs to put in queue. “yeah. we haven’t gone in a while and i wanted to go with you before we get busy with college after we graduate in a couple days.”

you paused to ask if he wanted any songs in particular, when he shook his head you continued scrolling, “i know we have summer and all but.. i don’t know…everything will feel too real by then. plus this is basically us just doing stuff we used to do before we’re sent off to ‘adult life’ where things are actually somewhat serious.”

sunghoon understood what you meant.

recently, everything has been feeling so stressful yet freeing because you guys will finally be able to leave the hellhole known as high school.

you both have been stacked with work from your teachers who swear that they’re ’preparing you for adult life’ but the both of you know it’s a load of bull, most of it is just filler work because they have nothing else for students to do since it’s the end of the year. they just want to keep students busy and get their pay check but what sucks is that it’s a part of his grade, meaning he had to do it.

with a destination now in mind, sunghoon starts driving.

he glanced at you and snickered. “so, is that why you decided to wake me up with a handful of rocks accompanied with your terrible aim? who would have thought that someone as amazing as you could miss a target as big as my bedroom window.” he says sarcastically.

you gasp at his sarcasm,“don’t be rude,” you reach over to flick his temple but failed miserably due to him being able to somehow grab your wrist before you got close enough to hit him.

you gave up and let out a dramatic huff,“you’re just mad that i was smart enough to throw the ones that were a little too big at the wall so that i don’t break your window the same way you broke mine last time.”

“i was twelve!” he quickly defended,“and that’s not fair, yeji basically set me up for failure that time! she swore it wouldn’t break. plus it was the only thing we had available to throw that would make enough noise to catch your attention”

he heard you stifle a laugh as you remembered the day sunghoon’s little sister gaslighted him into believing that your window was indestructible simply because she was bored and wanted to watch the new spongebob episode but couldn’t because she was grounded.

“whatever, whatever.” you dismiss with a grin,“you’re both at fault, all that trouble to see spongebob through my window just for you guys to get grounded for another week AND not even getting to see said episode.”

sunghoon scrunched his nose in fake annoyance, barely hiding the smile tugging at his lips as you continued laughing.

he glanced at you, eyes soft with something unspoken, as a quiet warmth began to stir in his chest. his gaze shifted back to the road as he shook his head, laughing slightly at the memory.

once the laughter died down, you turned to him with a sigh and a lingering smile.

“yeah, i decided if we’re already going to be doing something we did together when we were younger, why not go all out?” you shrugged with a grin,“this our last time being ‘kids,’ or at least free from responsibilities—might as well make it fun and worth our while, right?”

sunghoon chuckled and nodded,“right.”

・୨ ✦ ୧・

the two of you had been at the lake for hours, talking about everything and nothing all at once. it was filled of laughter and nostalgia.

you took pictures with your digital camera, claiming that memories were meant to be preserved—not just remembered. sunghoon agreed with a quiet smile as you both recorded random moments on his camcorder he kept in his car—just in case memories like these came around.

you had brought along a blanket and a picnic basket packed with a blend of both your favorite dishes, that were long gone by now. he wasn’t sure when you had packed everything, but he didn’t question it.

sunghoon watched you closely as you rambled about a game that recently came out.

a unsolicited storm of unspoken feelings returned and sat heavy in his chest, but he stayed quiet. how could he tell you what was on his mind when it might ruin the peace you shared?

a sigh escaped him, soft and unbidden—born from the ache of everything left unsaid. but the thought of losing you, someone who had come to mean everything, sealed his lips with silence.

he wanted nothing more than to hold you gently—to treat you with the love he knew you deserved. but how could he, when you had no idea how deeply sunghoon felt for you?

you’d been in each other’s lives for as long as either of you could remember, and who’s to say your feelings hadn’t stayed the same?

he only wished he had shown you, back then, that he saw you as more than just a friend. it would’ve made his current predicament easier to deal with. but no amount of wishing could turn back time or rewrite the silence he’d left behind.

now, he could only choose between staying silent and protecting your friendship or voicing his feelings and hope that you feel the same.

the call of his name pulled him out of his thoughts, he blinked at you as you looked at him with knitted brows, confused. “are you okay? you blanked out for a second.”

sunghoon felt his face flush the moment he realized you noticed his silence.

“huh? oh–” he rubbed his neck, flashing a shy smile,“just.. thinking about the next few days.” he swallowed hard, hoping hoping you couldn’t hear the thudding in his chest.

you looked at him quizzically, eyes narrowing slightly before you hummed and turned away in thought.

he exhaled, relief flooding his chest when you didn’t question him further. and yet, a quiet ache remained. the words he’d spoken clung to him, far heavier in meaning than he’d let on.

a few beats of silence passed between the two of you.

it wasn’t uncomfortable—even with the ache in sunghoon’s heart, your presence felt like a warm embrace.

for a fleeting second, it felt like the world and all it’s problems had melted away. there were no words, just a shared stillness that felt like home.

time seemed to pause, and for a while, it was just you and him—nothing more, nothing less.

sunghoon can feel something unspoken had passed between you.

your gaze drifts back to him, soft and searching.

“sunghoon,” you uttered, laced with something he can’t quite place—something that makes his chest tighten.

he hums in response, eyes flicking away from yours, like he’s afraid of what he might find there. terrified of mistaking something so small for something more.

“sometimes,” you begin, voice barely above a whisper—like you’re carrying something fragile that might shatter something if you let them out.

“i think i care about you more than i should.”

his breath hitched as an invisible hand gripped his heart with so much force, he could feel the pain in his chest.

his eyes trailed back to you and absorbed your expression—unguarded and achingly vulnerable.

oh, how he wishes he could confess every thought racing through his mind—wishing he could tell you how much you truly mean to him. how deeply he cares about you.

the words are hidden under his tongue, aching to be set free. he feels the pull on his heart, its desperate to let you in.

when he finally opens his mouth, his voice betrays him.

"maybe we both do.” he paused,“but... you shouldn't say things like that unless you mean them."

・୨ ✦ ୧・

his mind was everywhere but where it needed to be.

he hadn’t slept—not with your words still echoing in his head and the weight of his own response haunting him long after the moment had passed.

he couldn’t focus, he wouldn’t let himself. his mind keeps circling back to yesterday's conversation.

how could he be so stupid? he had you right in front of him but he let you slip from his grasp.

you were so close yet so far.

maybe it didn’t mean anything. maybe nothing had changed.

god, he hoped so.

you laughed it off, changed the subject like it was nothing. he didn’t want you to—but what could he have done? he wasn’t going to force you into a conversation you don’t want to be apart of.

he wanted you to say something, to add on to what you were saying, maybe even explain what you meant, anything—but he just sat there, letting you grow distant.

you didn’t act differently on the drive home.

if anything, it was the same as the ride to the lake. it was your playful teasing and easy laughter paired with his sarcastic remarks and lighthearted banter.

you both parted briefly to shower—the lake air still clung stubbornly to his skin after the drive.

sunghoon thought that you would take that chance to no longer be in his vicinity, but surprisingly, you still came over to watch star wars with him and yeji in honor of may fourth.

you even stayed for dinner and shared laughs with his family; it was nothing new, but the twisting in his gut never left. the weight of what he didn’t say rested on his shoulders like judgment—unshifting and brutal.

you acted like everything was normal.

but that’s what scared him. because he knew you.

he knew how you avoided conflict. he knew how you’d smile through discomfort and pretend everything was fine, just so things wouldn’t get weird.

you wouldn’t tell him if he had hurt you. you wouldn’t call him out for messing up. you’d just carry it alone—and that thought alone made the ache in his heart grow sharper.

you didn’t deserve that.

you don’t deserve someone like him—someone who couldn’t even say what he really wanted without being terrified of what could happen.

you deserve a love without hesitation, and he longs to be the one to give it. he'd give up everything without a second thought if it meant he’d have an eternity with you.

it’s not even about whether you return his feelings anymore. it’s about whether you’d still choose to stay his friend, knowing he wants something more, when you don’t.

if he knew for a fact that you would still be by his side one way or another, he would confess and take the rejection. he really would.

but the thought of you pulling away, drifting so far that the two of you stopped speaking altogether—that would break him.

at least, that’s what he tells himself.

you’ve been part of his life for so long, so woven into every moment that mattered, that he simply cannot imagine a future without you in it. and now, all he could think about was how he could be the reason why you’d want to distance yourself.

he hated the thought that it might’ve been his fault.

you offered him something delicate, something unspoken and real—and he broke it before he even realized what he was holding.

that mistake might’ve cost him the one thing he never wanted to lose: you. and the only person he has to blame is himself.

or maybe… maybe he imagined it all.

what if he took it all out of context? what if he overanalyzed every word, every glance—searching for signs that weren’t even there?

maybe he was reading too far into things, twisting moments into something more than what they really were.

obsessing over gestures that were never meant to mean anything—because deep down, he so desperately wished they had.

though his mind swirled with endless possibilities, what bothered him the most was that he hadn’t seen you all day.

・୨ ✦ ୧・

sunghoon’s leg bounced anxiously under his desk—eyes flickering between the board, the clock, and his phone as if it’s going to make time go by faster.

with an irritated huff, sunghoon slumped back into his chair, arms crossed tightly over his chest—impatient and clearly annoyed by how painfully slow the class was dragging on.

every second felt deliberately stretched, like the universe was playing a cruel joke on him.

he needed to get out of this classroom.

his eyes scanned the room, trying to find something to distract him as he waited for the bell to ring.

his thoughts drifted back to this morning, he found it strange when you didn’t come out to walk with him to school at the time you usually do. still, he waited.

as the minutes ticked by and the first bell crept closer, his confusion only deepened.

what was taking you so long? you hated being late.

his mouth pulled into a faint frown.

were you avoiding him?

sunghoon bit the inside of his cheek, debating whether to knock and ask your mom if you’d left early or just leave.

he wanted to do the former but what if you needed space? he knew you wouldn’t tell him if you did—not because you didn’t care, but because you’d never want to hurt him.

you'd never been good at saying no, it just wasn’t in your nature.

so, he walked to school alone.

jake sat beside him, eyeing sunghoon with concern—to him, sunghoon was acting weird. nothing like his usual demeanor.

sunghoon wasn’t exactly known for being cheerful and all smiles, but even for him, this felt off—and he had no idea why.

jake leaned in slightly. “sunghoon,” he whispered, careful not to draw the teacher’s attention.

sunghoon stayed lost in thought, seemingly unfazed, offering no response.

jake glanced at jay, seated on his other side, who looked just as worried.

“what’s up with him?” jay murmured, nodding toward sunghoon.

jake shrugged and glanced back at sunghoon once again,“i’ve been trying to figure it out all day. he’s just been.. out of it.”

the two exchanged hushed theories, voices low, trying to piece together what could’ve left sunghoon so distant, so unlike himself, so distraught.

the sudden sound of their teacher clearing his throat brought their whispers to an abrupt halt.

they tensed as they recognize the previously unnoticed presence behind them.

they laughed nervously as their teacher shot them a sharp glare. they quickly turned back in their seats and sat up straight.

sunghoon observed the exchange with a quirked brow, only now realizing the teacher had moved from the front to the back of the class.

somehow, he missed it entirely—but there was no time to dwell on it as the bell rang, echoing through the halls, signaling the end of class and the end of the school day.

sunghoon shot to his feet so fast it left jay and jake exchanging bewildered looks before they rushed to catch up to him.

by the time they finally caught up to him, they were at the far end of the school.

jake and jay paused, trying to catch their breath before confronting sunghoon.

sunghoon did a double take when he noticed them.

“what are you guys doing here?” he asked, glancing between them with a questioning look.

“we were trying to—” jake began, panting, “—hold on.”

he doubled over coughing between words, “oh my god, i’m dying.” jake said dramatically.

jay and sunghoon grimaced and patted his back, trying to help him with whatever it is that he’s slightly choking on.

jay turned to sunghoon after giving jake his water bottle and making sure he was okay. “what he was trying to say is… what’s going on with you today? are you okay?”

jake's forehead creased with worry as jay's eyes narrowed slightly, scanning sunghoon for answers.

at the question, sunghoon’s eyes avoided jay’s, landing on the door in front of him, like it held all the answers.

he nodded slowly, shifting uncomfortably on his feet,“yeah.. why wouldn’t i be?” his hands constantly readjusting the strap of his bag.

jake followed sunghoon’s gaze, and the moment his eyes landed on the door, his mouth parted in realization.

he nearly smacked his forehead, kicking himself for not thinking of it sooner. nudging jay to get his attention, he subtly nodded toward the door.

jay turned to look—and only then did it hit him where they had followed sunghoon to.

they stood in front of the student council room—the place the council always hung out when they weren’t in class.

there was only one reason sunghoon would come here, and it’s to find you.

jay and jake exchanged a look, the pieces starting to come together—they finally had an idea of what might’ve been weighing on sunghoon.

the only problem now was figuring out how to get him to open up to them.

right before any of them could do or say anything, the door swung open with frustrated mumbles trailing behind it. their attention snapped back to the door, expecting to find you.

instead, they were met with jungwon—and a look of confusion from the student council president himself.

he stilled, eyes scanning each of their faces trying to recognize them. the four of them stood there for a moment, wrapped in a brief, awkward silence.

the three older boys stood frozen, unsure of what to do or say. it felt like they’d been caught red-handed despite not having done anything wrong.

jake opened his mouth, prepared to break the silence, but jungwon spoke first.

“ah, sunghoon hyung.” jungwon’s stiff posture relaxed slightly as recognition settled in. “sorry—it took me a second to figure out who you guys were.”

he greeted jay and jake as well, giving a quick bow before continuing, “we’ve been stuck in meetings all day because of your graduation coming up so my head is a little scrambled.” jungwon let out a sheepish laugh, clearly embarrassed.

sunghoon stood back, quietly observing as the three of them caught up—jungwon had been swamped lately with end-of-year duties, so it had been a while.

sunghoon chimed in occasionally with a comment or two, but for the most part, he stayed reserved. content to just listen.

he zoned out for a couple minutes, thinking of the other places you could be when jungwon suddenly perked up beside him. sunghoon’s eyes drifted back towards him due to his sudden movement.

“oh! sunghoon hyung, i almost forgot to tell you—” sunghoon hummed in acknowledgment, waiting for him to continue. “noona asked me to let you know she had to leave about thirty minutes ago during her free period. she got a call from home and said she’d explain everything later. she also apologized for not messaging you—said she didn’t have her phone on her, and that she’d explain that too. although, i’m not totally sure what happened. she was kind of rambling and talking really fast while running around trying to grab all her stuff.”

sunghoon smiled softly, knowing that was very on brand for you.

he already felt lighter knowing that you had promised to talk to him later. “thank you for letting me know jungwon-ya.” jungwon only nodded before jake started poking at him.

as jake teased jungwon over something trivial, sunghoon laughed and joined jake’s antics��noticing how relaxed jungwon looked for once.

jay’s shoulders shook with quiet laughter. “yah, give the poor kid a break,” he said, grinning. “he’s barely had time to breathe, and here you guys are messing with him.”

jungwon let out a dramatic groan. “next time, I’m just going to pretend I don’t know you guys and walk right past.” a mischievous glint sparked in his eyes as he added,“or i might just pull the student council president card on you.”

the three of them gasped in mock disbelief.

“you wouldn’t!” jay accused, pointing dramatically.

jungwon smirked, raising his brows. “oh, i would.”

“no way…” jake clutched sunghoon’s shoulders. “is this what betrayal feels like?”

sunghoon fought the urge to laugh, turning away from jungwon with exaggerated flair.

“i—i can’t even look at you right now.” he suddenly collapsed onto jake, dramatically wailing,“oh, what has my precious child become!”

the four of them burst into laughter at the sheer stupidity of their conversation. the air around them feeling light and tender.

jungwon grinned, his dimpled smile shining bright. “oh, what-ever! i’ll do what i must to survive. besides, you senior citizens are graduating this weekend. talk about going out with a scene.” he shook his head, clearly joking.

sunghoon found the conversation around him fading into a blur.

・୨ ✦ ୧・

he wasn’t sure how he got there, but sunghoon was at your doorstep, torn between raising his hand to knock or going back home to wait for you to find him first.

he glared at your front door, teeth tugging at the cracked skin on his lips—anxious, uncertain.

he wasn’t sure what to expect.

were you just going to move on like yesterday never happened? the idea made his brows crease.

he didn’t want you to brush off what you said yesterday—but he had no idea how to bring it up himself.

what if you didn’t mean it the way he thought you did?

had he really let himself believe you meant something more?

had the line between his desires and your intentions blurred so much that he couldn’t tell when you were just being friendly?

his jaw clenched in quiet frustration.

when had your actions become so hard to read that he couldn’t tell where genuine affection ended and casual kindness began?

maybe the line was never blurred—you were just kind, and he was just foolish enough to hope it was something else.

with a heavy sigh, sunghoon’s head dropped into his hands as the weight of it all pressed down on him.

his mind was spinning, thoughts pounding so loud it hurt—each one louder than the last, his skull throbbing.

it shouldn’t be this hard, but it always was.

he stood there, swallowed whole by the never ending spiral he always found himself in.

he scoffed under his breath.

why did he have to be such a coward?

a voice spoke up behind him, startling him. “unless you’ve got secret powers, you might want to try knocking, sunghoon-ah.”

sunghoon stepped back, heat rising to his cheeks as he turned to face your mother.

he dipped his head with a sheepish grin, “ah, sorry, imo.” he laughed nervously, hand reaching up to scratch the back of his head. “i wasn’t sure if anyone was home.”

she glanced at him with amusement.

“i see,” your mother said with a knowing smile, brushing past sunghoon to unlock the door. “there’s no need to stand out here like a stranger, sunghoon-ah.”

once the door was unlocked, she pushed it open and gestured him to come in. “you know you’re always welcome here—so don’t to hesitate to knock. you’re practically family at this point.”

sunghoon smiled faintly, bowing in gratitude before stepping inside.

his gaze swept the room with a quiet kind of recognition—that familiar feeling from yesterday settled over him again.

it was déjà vu, laced with something heavier. a hush of melancholy lingered in the air.

it was that same quiet ache, longing mixed with sorrow—as if he’d slipped into a memory he desperately wanted to relive.

sunghoon refused to acknowledge it, pushing the feeling aside.

instead, he made small talk with your mom—asking how work had been, how your dad was doing and when he’d be back from his work trip.

not even an hour had passed when he heard the soft click of the front door.

everything around him faded into silence the moment he saw you. all he could do was take in your presence.

“eomma! you won’t believe who i saw at the market.” you groaned, placing the grocery bags on the floor and slipping into your house slippers with practiced ease.

you rambled on, only to pause mid-sentence when your eyes finally met sunghoon’s. your features lit up.

“i was wondering when you’d show up.” you said, smiling so wide, it reached your eyes. “what took you so long?”

he hadn’t realized you could shine this brightly—your smile lit up the room, your eyes glittering with something pure.

sunghoon felt it hit him all at once, like light pouring through cracks.

the noise in his head faded, the heaviness in his chest eased, replaced by something warm and light that touched the sore parts of his heart.

you always had that effect on him—your presence settled into him like sunlight seeping through closed curtains.

you made him feel seen, even without him having to speak. and he kept chasing that quiet sense of peace, drawn to the only thing that ever truly grounded him.

you.

you went on,“have you been waiting long?”

sunghoon shook his head and walked over, “i got here around the same time as your mom.” he replied. gently taking the grocery bags from your hands.

your fingertips brushed his, lingering like fire on his skin—a sensation that burned deeper than he’d ever admit.

after a quick glance at the time, you gave a small nod with a faint smile. “so, about thirty minutes ago? that’s not too bad.”

sunghoon set the bags on the counter and began handing you items as you put them away, falling into an easy rhythm beside you.

the two of you slipped into conversation, unaware of the fond smile your mom wore as she watched from across the room.

she excused herself, saying work had worn her out and she needed to wind down for the night.

you both wished her goodnight after confirming she didn’t want anything to eat.

once you finished organizing the kitchen, you dragged sunghoon to the living room.

“seeing that you’re here, i figure jungwon was able to reach you, right?” you question with a knowing grin.

sunghoon let out a soft chuckle as he settled onto your sofa.

“didn’t expect you to forget your phone—you’re usually glued to it. for you, that’s like saying you forgot how to breathe,” he teased, flashing a dimpled grin. “what happened? decided you finally wanted to touch grass?”

you rolled your eyes. “ha, ha. very funny.” you flicked his forehead lightly. “i’m laughing so hard, i think i might pass out.”

he laughed. “you should be grateful, you basically have a comedic genius for a friend.” he tilted his chin smugly,“not many people can say that.”

“oh my gosh, you’re so right!” you replied, voice dripping with sarcasm. “how could i not when i have front-row seats to your one-man show, delusions and dimples? truly, i’m blessed.”

he leaned back, still grinning. “i’d ask for a tip, but i already know i’m your favorite act.”

you scoffed. “oh, absolutely. i tune in every week just to remind myself what not to laugh at.”

he shot you a playful look,“just say i’m funny—your pride will survive, i promise.”

“yeah, you’re funny—” you paused, a mischievous glint in your eye,“—looking. ohhh!” you gasped dramatically, yelling as you covered your mouth and pointed at him before bursting into laughter.

he threw his head back with an exaggerated groan. “you’re unbelievable.” he bit back a smile, shaking his head in mock defeat.

once your laughter faded, you finally took the chance to explain yourself.

“anyways, like i was saying before you decided to be funny,” you said, shooting him a playful glare. “i forgot the council had meetings all day today. i was rushing to get ready and thought i put my phone in my pocket, when i didn’t. i didn’t even realize until i got to my first meeting at seven. so i couldn’t text you not to wait on me since i was already stuck at school with the rest of the council.”

sunghoon nodded along, eyes focused on you as you spoke.

“then, when we were done with the meetings,” you continued, “my dad called the school trying to get a hold of me since i wasn’t answering my phone—he wanted me to pick up the gift he got for my mom for mother’s day this weekend. i tried seeing if i could go after school ended so you could come with me after your class, but he said the store wouldn’t hold it if someone else wanted it. so i left in a rush again and asked jungwon to do me the favor of letting you know.”

you pursed your lips, trying to think if you’d missed anything.

“and once i got home, i was waiting for you—but then my mom called and asked if i could grab a few things from the store. and now…” you gestured loosely around you, shrugging. “here we are.”

he blinked slowly. “wow. you really know how to keep a guy on his toes.” he tilted his head, voice light. “next time, just send a carrier pigeon.”

you arched a brow, fighting back a smile.

“and spoil you with instant updates? i’d hate to ruin the suspense.” then, with a dramatic hair flip, you added, “you know i’ve got a mysterious and nonchalant persona to maintain.”

sunghoon scoffed, “yeah, right! you’re like, the least nonchalant person i know.” he threw a pillow towards you, chuckling lightly. “you’d trip over your own ‘mysterious aura’ five minutes in.”

you waved a hand dramatically. “well, being unforgettable is kind of my thing. i keep things interesting.” then, with a pointed stare, you added, “you clearly don’t understand the art of subtle chaos.”

sunghoon hummed, then gave you a small smile, his eyes softer now.

“you really didn’t have to explain all that.” he nudged your knee with his. “but i’m glad you did.”

you gave him a small smile in return.

“i just didn’t want you to think i was avoiding you or anything.” your voice dropped a little. “i would’ve told you if i could.”

“i know you would’ve,” he gave a small shrug. “i just didn’t expect an explanation. i mean… it’s just me.”

you looked at him, expression gentle.

“you don’t have to be ‘someone special’ for me to care. you just… matter to me.” he felt your eyes on him—careful, almost hesitant, like you were trying to read him. “i explained myself because i wanted to, not because i had to.”

his heart pounded so hard it echoed in his ears, and for a moment, he wondered if you could feel it too.

・୨ ✦ ୧・

confetti surrounded everyone after the principal congratulated the graduating class for the final time.

cheers in the stadium echoed, the moment felt euphoric.

students tossed their hats into the air, laughter and tears being mixed in the breeze.

happiness lingered—the kind that comes with endings, beginnings, and everything in between.

sunghoon turned to you with a wide smile, met instantly by yours. your eyes shined beneath the confetti filled sky.

he swept you into his arms, spinning you in a whirl of celebration and color, your laughter rising above the chaos in a way that made everything else fade.

his heart felt light, full of pride and something softer, as he thought about how far you both had come.

after the ceremony and dozens of photos, both your families came together for a celebratory dinner—laughter, stories, and congratulations shared over clinking glasses and full plates.

sunghoon watched as his family effortlessly blended with yours, the familiarity between them clear in every laugh and shared memory.

moments like this had always stretched into hours—it was just how things were. and he wouldn’t have it any other way.

his eyes scanned the room until they landed on you, sitting beside his sister.

the sight made him smile—he cared deeply for you both, and watching you get along always stirred something warm in his chest.

his head tilted slightly when he caught yeji’s mischievous expression, paired with your confused one as you tried to follow whatever she was saying.

it wasn’t until yeji caught his eye and shot him a wink paired with a smirk that his heart sank.

what was she telling you?

he shifted in place, debating whether to walk over or let it play out. but the way your brows furrowed had him already taking a step in your direction—just in case.

once he was close enough, sunghoon caught yeji saying,“he once cried over a dog in a movie and blamed it on ‘allergies.’ don’t let the cool act fool you.”

he let out a quiet groan from behind her. “will you ever let that go? seriously, it’s like your life mission is to embarrass me in front of people who aren’t family.”

he had no idea what the conversation was about before that, but he could only hope yeji had stuck to harmless stories and nothing more dangerous.

you laughed before teasing,“ i thought he was nonchalant.” you glanced at him with a grin. “guess the act’s been cracked.”

“nonchalant is literally my brand.” he side-eyed yeji. “you just love ruining the mystery, don’t you?”

yeji rolled her eyes. “oh please. unnie’s been in your life longer than i have—she already knows you’re not nearly as mysterious or nonchalant as you think you are.”

sunghoon frowned,“with all this betrayal, it’s obvious who the favorite park is—and which graduate you’re rooting for, yeji.”

you nudged his arm. “don’t worry, you’re still my favorite… most of the time.”

yeji crossed her arms, smugly. “don’t be mad because she likes me more, oppa. i’m just the better choice.”

he let out a soft laugh, shaking his head. “you two are unreal.”

the three of you kept talking, laughter fading into softer conversations as the night wore on.

slowly, the house settled into silence as people slipped out the door with quiet goodbyes and others deciding to call it a night.

yeji followed soon after, claiming she was tired before bidding the two of you goodnight and retreating to her room.

sunghoon glanced to his side when he felt the warmth next to him vanish—your absence noticeable the moment you stepped away.

he stayed quiet, simply watching as you walked toward the front door, stopping before you reached it.

you turned back to him with a grin. “you coming, or not?”

his smile softened. “wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

he stood and made his way over to you, grabbing his jacket and keys along the way.

with a small gesture, he nodded ahead, letting you guide him through the quiet night—because somehow, being with you always felt like the right direction.

・୨ ✦ ୧・

sunghoon’s fingers tapped along the steering wheel, matching the rhythm of the song blaring through his car speakers.

he drove toward a familiar spot—the one the two of you always seemed to end up at when it felt like it was just you and him against the world.

you sat beside him, singing along without a care, creating your own little performance as he drove.

a faint smile lingered on his lips, your presence grounded him, yet stirred the familiar ache in his chest.

being beside you felt like holding onto something precious with both hands—afraid it might slip away, even though it was right there.

you slip so seamlessly into the cracks of his world, filling spaces he didn’t even know were empty.

you’ve become the quiet force holding him together, the part of him that made the rest feel less scattered.

he glanced back at you, his gaze tracing your features like they were something he could never get tired of looking at.

his eyes shifted back to the road.

in a world where everything kept changing, you were the one thing he always wanted to stay.

the moment sunghoon pulled in, you were already out of the car—like the place had been calling your name.

sunghoon watched you jump out with a shake of his head and a grin.

“you know, normal people wait for the car to stop first,” he called after you, though his tone was all fondness.

he lingered for a second, eyes trailing after you as you ran ahead.

there was something about the way you lit up in certain places, like this one, that made following you feel like the easiest choice in the world.

he made his way to you, breathing in the crisp mountain air as the city shimmered below.

you spun toward him with a glowing smile, eyes glistening like the city lights dancing behind you.

“you always take your time, huh?” you teased, hand slipping around his wrist as you led him to the bench—your shared place to watch the world glow from a distance.

he smirked as he took a seat beside you. “maybe. or maybe I just like seeing if you’ll wait for me.”

you laughed softly, as the lights below flickered like stars. “well, you make it really hard not to.”

while you admired the city below, sunghoon’s gaze never left you, quietly memorizing the moment he already feared of losing.

you both sat in silence, your presence a quiet comfort against the cool summer night.

it’s not like he didn’t want to say anything, he simply didn’t trust his voice. you were just inches away—yet somehow, you still felt out of reach.

he wondered if you knew.

if you could feel how his heart always settled in your presence, how you turned the weight he carried into something lighter.

if you noticed how silence never felt heavy when it was shared with you.

he didn’t need the city lights or the view. he just needed this—whatever this was. whatever you were.

he desperately wanted to reach towards you and tell you everything that he was so afraid of saying.

he ached to tell you, to unravel every truth he’d buried.

he longed to close the distance, to finally speak of the weight in his chest, but the fear that opening his heart would drive you away still lingered—the fear that honesty might cost him the only thing that ever made him feel whole.

but he could feel the confession resting on the tip of his tongue—ready, waiting, willing to let you into his heart.

and though those quiet fears still lingered, their grip was loosening, slowly releasing him from the weight they carried. because right now, in this moment,

it was just you and him.

“this view always has been beautiful.” you murmured, glancing over. but when you turned, he was already looking at you—like the view didn’t matter at all.

“it is beautiful,” he whispered, eyes still on you.

your expression softened into something tender before you turned your gaze back to the city below.

the silence stretched between you as his gaze followed the gentle curve of your profile, admiring how the lights kissed your skin.

he called your name under his breath, barely audible—like part of him hoped you wouldn’t hear it, and the other part needed you to.

a curious hum escaped you as you turned to meet his eyes.

“I…” sunghoon sighed, pressing his lips together.

he looked away for a moment, searching for the right words, before turning back to you.

your gaze hadn’t wavered—still fixed on him, calm and patient, as if you were giving him all the time he needed.

your expression remained soft, touched with quiet curiosity, silently urging him on.

just as his mouth parted, ready to tell you everything—the words stalled on his tongue, trembling at the edge of something real.

for a heartbeat, everything stood still.

but then, almost subtly, the moment began to slip.

the lights dimmed, the cold crept in, and your face, that so clear just seconds ago, blurred around the edges.

he reached for you, hands trembling—desperate to hold onto you as you disappeared into the dark.

you were slipping through his fingers like something that was never meant to stay.

the memory of you blurred, fading into a silence that felt heavier than anything he’d ever known. he felt like he was drowning as the unfamiliar darkness swallowed him whole.

he had been so close. so unbearably close, with his heart in his throat, ready to pour it all out—ready to tell you how much he cared, how deeply and hopelessly he loved you, like his heart had been shaped only to hold yours, and no one else’s.

how loving you had become the only thing that made sense, the only thing that felt like it was written into his bones, something he was meant to do.

something that just came naturally.

how you were the quiet ache behind everything he touched, how his heart had been quietly, endlessly breaking with a love he never quite knew how to give—but had always, always wanted to give to you.

・୨ ✦ ୧・

sunghoon shot up from his bed, breath shaky and uneven.

it took him a moment to remember where he was, to realize you weren’t there.

the silence in the room felt colder than it should’ve, your name still clinging to the back of his throat.

sunghoon jumped at the sudden voice that pulled him out of his daze,“you okay, sunghoon?”

his gaze landed on the two figures standing across the room, having just stepped through the door.

jay and jake stood still, concern written all over their faces—whatever they had been talking about before was clearly left behind the moment they saw him.

it wasn’t until then that he truly registered where he was. not with you. not under the city lights. but here, in his college dorm.

he blinked, trying to slow his breathing, but the weight in his chest hadn’t left. it sat there—heavy, hollow.

sunghoon gave a small nod, though it was far from convincing. “yeah,” he muttered, barely above a whisper. “just… a dream.”

jake looked like he wanted to say something else, but didn’t. instead, he shared a glance with jay—one that said enough.

jay’s frown deepened, concern etched across his face, but neither of them pushed.

the room fell into a quiet tension, the kind that only came when something important went unspoken.

sunghoon didn’t meet their eyes. he looked down at his hands, and they were still trembling slightly.

he had been so close.

the dream still clung to him like a second skin, impossible to shake. it settled in his chest, quiet but suffocating.

all he could do was dwell on what could’ve happened—what he should’ve said when he had the chance.

his eyes drifted to the photos pinned to his wall, pictures of you and him frozen in time, smiling like nothing would ever change. but he knew better.

he was just the friend you grew up with—the one you’d never see that way.

he’ll always be yours in silence, but never in name.

⊱ ─── ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ ─── ⊰

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆ MIV— hope you enjoyed! i also apologize if some of the wording does not make sense, i did go over it but in a rush so it's not perfect. i spent days on this because i kept getting side tracked. the amount of times i paused bc i was crashing out is crazy. but i can’t really complain bc im the one that’s writing it so i could quite literally change whatever i want LMAOOO. now that i finished this, i actually have to do my homework. i do not think i will be posting a story or update until maybe the end of next week because of my finals. so, i apologize in advance but college is just kicking my butt rn 😢

please DO NOT steal, plagiarize, copy, repost, alter, or translate ANY of my works in any way.

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galactic-magick · 7 months ago

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A Proper Date: Viktor x Reader

Summary: Viktor wants to take you out on a proper date. Sequel to my fic "The Handsome Assistant."

Words: 1.2k

Warnings: mostly just fluff, some mentions of suggestive stuff towards the end

Author's Notes: Reworked my Arcane masterlist to reflect the reading order for my Vik fics that are in the same continuity, and future fics will now be added to it in the correct order. Thank you guys for all the love it really means the world to me!

Life is sweet ever since Viktor’s been in it—and even more so now that you get to kiss him every day.

In all honestly, your routine hasn’t drastically changed. You still distract each other at work way too much, and he still keeps you in conversation long past when you should go home. But now you also stop by each other’s apartments, cook for each other, and spend late nights together in the Academy library and labs working on projects.

Your roommates love him, letting him in even if you’re out doing errands at the moment. Today is one of those days, a bright smile stretching across your face when you see him upon arriving home.

“Viktor!” you drop your things and skip into his arms. You look down and see he’s dressed up a bit more than usual, and your eyebrows scrunch in confusion. “What’s the occasion?”

“I’ve been wanting to take you on a proper date,” he says. “We can go whenever you’re ready.”

“Vik, you know I don’t need fancy dates—“

“Hush.” he presses a finger to your lips. “Go put on something nice, alright?”

You nod, rushing back to your room to change. You meant what you said, you really haven’t minded never having a “proper” date. Neither of you make a ton of money, really just enough to live on and maybe a tiny bit leftover, so you’ve never expected to be taken out to restaurants or really any sort of activity you have to pay for. Most times your dates are making dinner for each other after work, Viktor making you the delicious recipes of his ancestors, mainly. Other times you just people-watch out in the city, chatting about anything and everything. You honestly would do anything with him no matter what it was.

Viktor’s eyes soften at the sight of you when you return to him, taking your hand to leave.

When you approach where you’re going, your grip on his hand tightens and your jaw drops.

“Viktor, you didn’t…”

Your gaze falls onto one of the fanciest restaurants in Piltover, complete with live music and an open ceiling with a perfect view of the stars, both things he knows you love.

“Viktor, this is too much,” you whisper, still flabbergasted. “I would never ask you to pay for a place like this.”

“What makes you think you would have to ask?” he chuckles, pulling you inside. “I’ve been saving up to take you somewhere nice.”

The inside is truly gorgeous, no doubt full of decorative items that are worth twice everything you own. The live band’s sound fills the entire room, setting a soft mood for a night under the sky. You feel entirely out of place, looking at everyone around you, but your eyes always return to Viktor, who’s looking at you like you’re the only thing of value in sight.

He insists that you order anything you want, of course, despite your protests. He wants to treat you, and eventually you have to accept that.

When you finish eating and the restaurant winds down to close, he asks the waitress something that you don’t quite catch while you’re listening to the last song. Viktor hands her quite a decent tip, then motions for you to follow her.

She leads you both to the back of the restaurant, passing multiple signs that say “Staff Only,” then finally gesturing to a tall flight of stairs.

“Up there,” she says. “Don’t stay too long though, I could get in big trouble if you’re caught.”

Viktor thanks her and she leaves the two of you alone.

“I...may have convinced her to let us go to the roof.” he smirks.

You glance back at the stairs, “Vik, you really don’t have to do this for me.”

“I’ll be fine, don’t worry,” he assures you. “Just...go slow.”

The amount of stairs is ludicrous, but it’s not too long before you reach the top and open the door to the beautiful starry night.

You go as close to the edge as you can without falling, craning your neck to look at the miraculous view. Viktor is close behind, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you back.

“Careful, darling,” he mumbles into your shoulder, kissing it before looking up for himself.

You stare in silence for several minutes, Viktor still holding you close.

“Can we live up here?”

He chuckles, “That might be too high a request, I’m afraid,” he nuzzles his nose into your hair. “But I assure you, someday I will give you a place with a view like this.”

You turn around, surprised by the unwavering authenticity in his features. You’ve only been together for a few months now, was he really already thinking about a future with you?

“Viktor—“

His expression quickly changes into one of panic, “My apologies, I didn’t mean to be so forward—“

“No, Viktor,” you wrap your arms around his neck, your faces inches apart. “I’d like that someday too.”

Sneaking back out goes smoother than you expected, and Viktor insists on walking you home as usual. There’s a warmth to your heartbeat, a welcome contrast to the chill outside. You can’t believe he went through all the trouble to arrange this night for you, genuinely wanting to surprise you with something extravagant.

When you arrive to your apartment, Viktor walks in with you when you’re met with quite the sight on the couch. Your roommate, Eli, is snuggled up with Sevika, and your snickering quickly wakes them up.

“If I had known you were having a date night too, I would’ve stayed out with Vik longer,” you laugh.

“Well we were going to go to my room, but someone fell asleep on the couch,” Eli nudges Sevika.

“Hmmph,” Sevika grunts, too groggy to properly retaliate.

“We’ll leave you be, then,” you giggle all the way back to your room, pulling Viktor behind you.

“Those two are certainly...something,” Viktor says as you close the door.

“I’m just glad they’re happy,” you shrug. “Anyway—sorry—I didn’t even ask you if you wanted to stay. You can go home if you’d like. Just maybe close your eyes walking back through the living room…”

“No, no. I’d like to stay.” he nods.

“Okay.” you sigh, slowly coming to the realization that this will be the first night you’ve spent together. It’s a bit terrifying, if you’re honest, no matter how much you love him.

You continue, avoiding his gaze, “But just so you know, I’m not ready yet to—um…”

Viktor takes your face in his hands as you drift off, “You don’t have to explain yourself, love. I would be more than happy to simply sleep next to you tonight.”

You nod, most of your anxieties subsiding.

You borrow some pajamas from your roommates that would fit him, then get changed yourself. Your bed certainly isn’t meant for two people, but you both snuggle in well enough to be comfortable. You rest your head on his chest, listening to his heartbeat.

Viktor rubs your arms and back, pressing kisses to your head. Holding you long after you’ve fallen asleep and his own arms have gone a bit numb.

He smiles at your stirs and snores, your fists gripping him closer the further you drift. He may never be able to go back to sleeping alone after experiencing this.

“Someday...I’ll give you everything you could ever want.” he whispers, closing his eyes.

#viktor arcane x reader #arcane viktor x reader #viktor x reader #viktor arcane #arcane viktor #arcane x reader

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ccscocoapuffs · 1 year ago

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Thomas Hewitt NSFW Alphabet

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex) Tommy is the absolute sweetest boy you could ask for when it comes to aftercare. Though he doesn't understand the full concept in a complex manner he understands the need to take care of you. He will pull you close to him and rub his hand through your hair while he gives little soft kisses to you. Though if you want him to clean you up he prefers to do so with his tongue if you catch my drift.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s) Tommy loves everything about you, he thinks you're perfect in every single way imaginable, however he certainly has a thing for thighs, he's far to shy to admit about the dirty thoughts that cross his mind that involve yours wrapped around his head. As for his personal favorite of himself, He doesn't have one. Thomas struggles with a lot of insecurity towards his looks but if you were to praise a certain feature of his he would start to gain confidence and eventually start to love that part of himself.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically) Thomas is actually a little shy about finishing. He doesn't like making a mess on you cause it makes him feel as though he has done something wrong. He prefers to cum inside you in general though as he feels sex is for making a baby. Luda is obviously the one who taught him that sex is strictly for marriage and procreating and he will respect his mama's teachings.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs) Tommy is secretly a bit of a risk taker, though he would have to have a large amount of trust with you before that side of him would show.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?) Thomas has zero experience before you mostly because of most of the towns people being afraid of him. He certainly will learn most things from what you two engage in together. Thomas does know a few things from a magazine he got ahold of once from Hoyt's room.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying) Finding a position to accommodate Thomas's size is slightly difficult, Thomas is very tall and is of a heavier build in general, he isn't very flexible at all so super complicated is out of the question for him. He has two favorites though, cowgirl and doggy style. Doggystyle is probably his ultimate favorite though because he likes to grab you by the neck and pull you up to his chest.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.) Thomas prefers to remain serious during sex but afterword's when you two are cuddling and calming down from your high he likes to pamper you with soft kisses that make you both chuckle.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.) Look at the man. He has a damn bush.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect) He is very romantic, having sex to Thomas is one of the most romantic feelings possible in a relationship. Intimacy is something that he struggled with at first mostly because of his insecurities in himself, though if you show him pure love and build a bond with him then you with have very intimate moments with him.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon) Thomas really doesn't jack off, he feels its a waste because he prefers to spend that time with you and make it mean something.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks) Thomas has a few kinks, size kink, breeding kink, and a slight choking kink. He can be a little hesitant to try them though.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do) He prefers the bedroom of course but he won't say no to you no matter where you are. Hoyt has definitely walked in on yall inside the barn a few times.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going) The sheer fact that you love him for him is enough for Thomas.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs) Hurt you. Thomas accidentally gave you a bruise once from gripping your hips so tightly while he was lost in the feeling of thrusting into you and the poor boy sobbed. He is terrified of hurting you.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.) Now you may think that he wouldn't go down on you because of his mask, you'd be wrong. Thomas loves to go down on you, though he will take of his mask he wants to eat you out underneath the covers. He actually is pretty damn good at it. He definitely is a giver.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.) He really doesn't care about the pace but he for sure goes deep and hard.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.) He doesn't mind them at all, he actually really likes the thrill of the risk.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.) As previously mentioned if Thomas is very comfortable with you and ready to fully open up then he definitely will be more risky with you. He will bend you over anything and anywhere and hope you two can finish quick enough before someone walks in.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?) He can last usually 2 rounds, he lasts not all that long though, considering he doesn't really have experience this is something that really isn't all that surprising.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?) No Thomas doesn't own toys, if you have them then he may be interested in trying them with you. If you have a bullet vibrator that is very beginner friendly then he down for letting you run it up and down him.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease) Thomas doesn't tease at all, he gets straight to the point and wants to enjoy the time he has with you to the full extent.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.) Thomas can be much louder than one might think. He tends to let out very long and deep groans as he throws his head back.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character) Thomas secretly likes when Hoyt walks in and starts cussing at you two about being damn rabbits. It gives him a bit of confidence in the fact that you chose thomas out of everyone and you aren't embarrassed to please your man.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes) He THICC. Thomas is roughly 8 inches in length but damn that girth is hella big. Thomas never thought much of how big he actually was until he got with you and heard how loud you moaned when he slipped inside.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?) Surprisingly high, he loves the fact that you love him and considers it a privilege that he gets to fuck you so he wants to cherish it as many times as he possibly can.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards) Pretty quickly, he works all day at the factory then around the house. Then he comes to you and gives you his all, the poor boy is hard fucking worker and deserves his sleepy time.

#fanfic #slashers x reader #texas chainsaw massacre #thomas hewitt #thomas hewitt x reader #slasher smut #slashers #tcm #tommy hewitt

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mika-thexd · 8 days ago

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t-taph x reader ?🥺👉🏻👈🏻

A/n: OMG YES??? I LOVE TAPH SM THAT LITTLE MUTE PIGEON HAS ME ON A CHOKEHOLD AND IT DOESN'T HELP HOW LITTLE FANFICS THERE ARE OF HIM 😭 and since your request isn't really specific I assumed you wanted a band au or my mic's and drums au? I don't know if you wanted it but hey! If you don't like it then you could request more (totally not me inviting you to request more 🥺) this is also when the reader and taph are high school teenagers so there's no suggestive stuff here

Bass guitarist! Taph

Bass guitarists never get any attention do they? A forgotten middle child between the lead singer and the electric guitarist, important to hold a place in a band but not eye catching enough to get attention.

I mean, if you're easy in the eyes then people will turn to you from time to time, they will cheer for you then and there. But what about those who conceal themselves to the public? A bass guitarist that held a mysterious aura with them, all dark and ominous. Will they get attention?

In one way or another they do, although from a small percentage, a small percentage that is demeaned as underrated to any band fan base.

And Taph wouldn't trade that for the world.

Don't get him wrong, he loves attention from time to time, but in the long run? His anxiety could never. So why was he in a band? Because of his friends of course, since they knew how Taph can be they assigned him as a bass guitarist with Guest.

A perfect fit for someone so closed off but also had a dash of mischief.

And attention shouldn't make him this nervous right? It's just one person staring at him with so much concentration that it can rival two time's concentration on their keyboard, right?

It was almost as if they were trying to engrain his face in their eye sockets, but he just ignored it throughout the concert and continued his strumming, sometimes glancing at the crowd.

They would eventually leave right?

Unfortunately for Taph, the world isn't that fair, so when all of them went back to their "studio" which was just shedletsky's garage, he thought that he could finally rest from all the judgemental stares.

That was before the same person showed on shedletsky's front door, banging the door and calling out to him. It made him flinch but he kept going with his practices.

"SHEDLETSKY OPEN THE FUCKING DOOR BEFORE I BREAK IT DOWN"

He jumped at the sudden loud voice booming through the house. Shedletsky just sighed and stopped his humming "you guys continue your practice, I have a little bird to take care of" he grumbled before leaving the garage. Taph tilted his head "🫵🤔🚪💥🤛" (whose that knocking the door down) he asked as Shedletsky looked at him "oh, you'll meet them don't worry" he said and continued his grumbling towards the door.

Taph shrugged and looked down again to strum two cords over and over again while day dreaming.

Then, in the corner of his eyes, Taph could see another person walking beside him. The person was radiating sunshine and rainbows, if he wasn't looking down, he would've been blinded by them.

"ELLIE! my favorite electric guitarist!" The person exclaimed as they ran up to Elliot with a bright smile on their face. Elliot chuckled and hugged them back "hello to you too" he greeted them. Then they pulled back and started to talk eachother about random stuff.

This lasted for about fifteen minutes before moving to the other members, and you all greeted them and engaged in small talk. Until finally their eyes pulled towards Taph. His dark cloak blending in the darkness, with gold accents. You naturally gravitated to him as they watched him play his guitar with intensity.

Until finally, a flash of recognition brightened up their head, "you're the newest guitarist aren't you?" They asked when they suddenly appeared in front of him, he jumped at the sudden closeness and sweat dropped.

When he finally saw them, his eyes widened in shock before backing up abit— you were the one that eyes him intently while cheering for the other members.

"Woah..." They said in amazement as they gazed at him with no space in between them— Their sense of personal space, gone when they saw Taph just minding their own business. Builderman saw this and scolded you lightly about it "don't do that kid" he said as he pulled you back at the scruff of your neck like a mother cat carrying their kitten.

"Sorry... It's just that—" you then pointed at him while he dumbfoundedly pointed at himself too in confusion— as if questioning you about it. "It's been decades since you guys accepted a new member to your band!" They exclaimed as they circled him like a shark.

Builderman just sighed at your antics and shook his head tiredly, "as much as I want you to socialize with my members, I don't want them to be uncomfortable" he said as he lightly pushed them towards another band member, "you can meet him when he's not overwhelmed"

You sighed in defeat, "fineeee" they said as you dragged along to the other members.

Taph tilted his head at builderman, "🫵🤔❓" (who was that?) He asked him "that was-" he said as he said your name. Taph nodded; you definitely piqued his interest, not only did he get a rare instance of attention from a person, it seemed as if they were close with the band members.

He wanted to know more about them. But unfortunately he had to wait

Well, truth be told he didn't really need to wait, because that moment came when you guys had alone time— no not THAT kind of alone time you dirty minds.

They were sipping their Boba while adjusting the strings of Chance's guitar while grumbling. And a few feet away from you, there was Taph observing you.

You could feel his intense stare, but they really couldn't care less because you had other things to fix, and that was Chance's guitar.

"Stupid chance... Always having their guitar off tune... Now I have to fix this shit" they grumbled underneath their breath.

Then your gaze flickered towards him, he jumped, startled by the sudden eyes that stared him down "Y'know you're not as slick as you like to pretend" you said, your amusement laced in your voice.

Since there wasn't any point to try to hide, he walked over to you and sat on the speaker in front of you. "👀🫵🔧❓" (what are you working on?) "Oh, I'm just fixing Chance's guitar because nobody wanted to" they said while twisting and strumming the guitar; he was surprised that they understood sign language, but he wasn't complaining.

"You're the newbie right?" They asked, he nodded and you hummed in acknowledgement. Then you set the guitar down, already done with fixing the guitar. They observed them, although you didn't lean in to him. Which he was thankful for, he didn't really want a stranger to invade his personal space.

"What was your name again?..." You then stared at the roof, then you snapped your fingers and pointed your finger at him "Taph right?" You asked, he nodded in confirmation.

"You were supposed to be an electric guitarist right?" They asked as they sipped their Boba. He nodded, again, and you hummed. Yeah, the conversation was one sided, but what could you expect with a mute boy and a person that was too tired to function? But weirdly enough, the silence wasn't awkward, it was just... Comfortable, like talking to the stars late at night.

"🫵🎶👬❓" (are you friends with the band members?) You nodded, "yeah I am, what about you? What made you join them?" You asked, genuinely curious. "😎🏆🎤💃➡️👀👥🗣️👉🫵" (I won a talent a competition, the saw and asked me to join them) you nodded and chuckled abit "sounds like them alright, let me guess, they begged you until you agreed?" He chuckled before nodding, you smiled.

The conversations were a little awkward with him, but you made it work, you would ask him questions he would answer, then you would Yap again. A true "yapper x listener" friendship.

And with the silence of music and the notes of a guitar, was You and Taph's relationship blooming.

You guy's friendship bloomed after that one fateful encounter in Noob's room. You started to get more and more comfortable with him, and in return he started to get more and more cheeky to you. The others saw this and smiled; Taph wasn't really a sociable person, so seeing him being playful to a friend made them feel like a proud parent, especially Builderman, since he wasn't attached to his side now, instead he was attached to you.

"Taph c'monnnnnn TEACH ME THE WAYS OF THE BASS GUITAR"

You screamed as you shook him back and forth, Taph just chuckled at your desperation, the mute pigeon not moving from his place.

He actually was gonna teach you, but where's the fun in immediately agreeing and not seeing them suffer? So he dragged this cat and mouse chase as long as he could, well, as long as your short ass patience could.

You stopped shaking him and slumped back, he shook his head in amusement "🙄🫡📚🧠➡️🫵" (ugh fine I'll teach you) and your eyes lit up, "really??!" "😒✋🫵🍑🪑⬇️" (yeah yeah, now sit your ass back down) you shot your fists up in the air in excitement. "HECK YEAH"

Then you looked around for a chair, then your eyes saw Taph sitting at the only chair, Taph saw this and tilted his head in confusion, an awkward silence quickly followed.

"... You're sitting on the only chair"

Another beat of silence followed that made him process the information, and the only response was a shrug— not really taking the situation seriously

"WH-WHAT DO YOU MEAN-" you then imitated his shrug as if to confirm the outright stupidity of it all"-WHAT DO YOU MEAN??" he then shrugged again "🫵😤🪑🎯🦵🦵😎" (you can just sit between my legs) you looked at him like he grew three heads.

"ARE YOU DUMB OR ARE YOU FLIRTING??" you screamed as you backed away from him while throwing an accusatory finger at him, he just rolled his eyes "🙄👉🪑❌🪵⬇️🧎‍♂️" (fine, but don't blame me if you're gonna have a hard time) your eyes twitched when he replied, you can just feel his sassiness radiating from him. "I-i can't believe you!" You said with a red face and your heart beating fast.

So now you have two options: either struggle while practicing because you wanted to have dignity, or just suck it up and actually practice peacefully, either way you're sacrificing something.

You gulped down your saliva and grumbled "fine you fuckin asshole" he then smirked and tilted his head, as if to tease you. "Move asshole" he just chuckled but made way for you. You sat down and crossed your arms "I did not agree to this" you angerly said.

He rolled his eyes and just set the bass guitar on your thighs, the plastic slate bare and cold against your skin, which contrasted to the burning feeling of being flustered.

He then rests his chin on your head, which did not help, it just makes things worse for your heart, which in question was beating so fast it could run a marathon.

And to think that Taph wasn't any better either, he's just lucky that his cloak hid his face, which was red as a tomato by now, but he couldn't stop the teasing, it didn't stop his growing need to fluster you more.

He just smiled while signing the things that he knows on how to strum a bass guitar, "🫵❓🤔📖🎸🔤"E"➰" (do you know what the e string is?) You just gulped and shook your head, not trusting your voice to say your thoughts.

And while he was teaching you how to play the bass guitar, a growing, nagging feeling crept up to both of you.

Love

"What in rom com did I just walk into?"

A/n: to the other requests I have in my inbox: GUYS IM WRITING THE REQUESTS RN IM JUST SLOW 😭 anyways 😋 I hope you Taph toe suckers love this

#mic's and drums rivalry #forsaken #forsaken x reader #taph forsaken #taph #taph x reader #taph forsaken x reader #fluff #oneshot

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starry-nights-garden · 2 years ago

Text

Ateez Reaction ✧ When they weren't your first bias

✧ Ateez all members x gn!reader ✧ genre: fluff, humor ✧ warnings: none

Hongjoong:

the nr 1 overly attached jealous bf in front of atiny so obviously he has to play his part when he finds out that you originally biased Seonghwa

makes you wish he had never found out tbh jdbdjxjjd

but you just can't deny it when he finds your old stash of Seonghwa photocards

"I'm not upset, it's fine. People's tastes can change." - says that while sounding VERY upset

will leave it at that for now but will get a giggle out of reminding you of this in the most unexpected moments

gives you a gift that you don't react to super enthusiastically: "Well, it doesn’t have Seonghwa’s face on it, so I get that you don't like it."

you don't hug him back once because you're distracted by something else: "Well, I'm not Seonghwa, so I get it."

you don’t pick up his call because you weren’t looking at your phone: “You’d have picked up if it was Seonghwa, right?”

will he ever stop? nobody knows

at this point you can’t even tell whether he’s just messing with you or if he’s actually still petty about it kasdjöfklas

Seonghwa:

his pride is definitely hurt when one day you mention to him that you used to be a Yeosang stan

“What do you mean? Like… I wasn’t your first bias?”

you try to brush it off by telling him people’s tastes change, it’s really not that deep

well, it is that deep to him kasdljföas

“Like… you liked someone else before me? It wasn’t love at first sight??”

turns out he always thought he was your first bias and now you just shattered his entire worldview ksdjfkal

needs to know exactly why you liked him, in as much detail as possible, so he can do better!!

thinks this is some kind of competition, even though your little celebrity crush on Yeosang is long over ksadjflkas

actually it’s quite charming and definitely entertaining to see him making such an effort, so you decide to watch for a while before starting another attempt at reassuring him that he’s just perfect the way he is in your eyes, and he can stop comparing himself with his team member now :’)

Yunho:

deliberately startles you by sneaking up to you from behind when he catches you watching a Mingi fancam

“Oh? What’s that?”

softly laughs at you when you instinctively hide your phone screen jasklfjösadk

but then you also scold him for surprising you like that

he’s quick to apologize and sits down next to you, already having figured out what’s going on

“Was your first bias Mingi?” - you can’t but admit to it

but Yunho just acknowledges it with a nod - he knows you like him best now and he doesn’t mind that you used to like someone else

“So your type are tall guys?” he questions and then laughs about it

yeah, this one’s just completely chill about it, really he sees no reason why he would be upset about something like this

Yeosang:

barely even reacts when you tell him that your first bias was Jongho

"Ah." - simply shrugs it off??

so you go on with your conversation which eventually drifts off to a different topic

you're thankful that he doesn't really mind or seem jealous

you'd go as far as to say you're glad you have such a mature boyfriend!!

... until you're about to walk away to go do something else and you hear him mutter something under his breath

"I'm much better than him anyway."

???

so you turn around and say "what" and he's fully ready to explain lol

"Well, first of all I'm more handsome than him. I'm also much nicer to you. Also I personally think I'm a better dancer."

gives you a full list of reasons why he’s better than him that sounds a little too much like he had prepared it in advance jcjdjxjx

San:

“Wow, Y/N, I expected better from you!!”

ngl you’re scared to death when you hear him yelling that from the other room, but once you find him holding up all your Wooyoung merch the tension leaves your body at once

obviously the first thing that comes to mind is asking him whether he’s jealous that you used to bias his best friend aksdjflkas

“I mean- You never even told me about this!!”

you try to calm him down by telling him it was just a phase, San is now your nr 1, etcetc, but he just won’t let it be

“No, I mean… how can you keep these when you’re dating me now…” his voice just gets smaller and smaller sakdfjlas

poor bby is actually upset about this, so you resort to the only thing you can imagine would work to calm him down

you take the merch away from him and give him a big hug, letting him rest his head against your shoulder

he pouts at you and makes you kiss him as reassurance, because he is obviously jealous, but also he would never admit that out loud laskdjfka

tries to act like nothing happened after getting all the cuddles he needs to feel better about it lol

Mingi:

it’s when you’re cleaning your apartment together that you stumble upon all of your Yunho merch and you immediately feel guilty about keeping it a secret from him

you figured he might be hurt over it, and though you were looking for a good time to tell him about it, that moment just never came

“Ah, right… I used to be Yunho biased actually…” you briefly explain and try to laugh it off

“Yeah, I knew about that.” - his unbothered reaction catches you off guard, so you ask if he’s not upset

“Why would I be upset? He’s my bias too!”

?????????

ends up looking through your collection with you and you swear he has heart eyes a few too many times aksdfjökas

so all’s well that ends well, right? wrong.

because several days later he will wake you up in the middle of the night and confess that maybe he is a little jealous after all…

needs you to reassure him that you’re nothing more than Yunho’s fan, and Mingi is the one you love the most now!!

Wooyoung:

"What do you mean, you liked Hongjoong??"

you can tell it never even crossed this guy's mind that you could've ever biased someone other than him lol

when it eventually finished sinking in and he stops perplexedly staring at you he just??? pats you on the back??

"Aaaaa, you did well choosing me over him!"

pats your head now??

"I'm actually much better than that guy, you know!!"

gives you a full on speech about how awesome he is and explains to you in detail how basically you'd be doomed if you dated Hongjoong lol

"I mean, he's a great guy! Don't get me wrong! But taking care of you? I mean, come on. You know you can always rely on me, but him??"

expects you to praise him and tell him he's right at the end of it

WILL complain if you don't do that, and the only way to console him is you stroking his ego a bit and lots of kisses :')

Jongho:

when one day you casually mention to him that you used to bias San, you can literally see his brain trying to process that fact

starts sulking???

acts like he's super upset and lowkey complains while just pouting about it

you know he's acting but what you don't know is whether he's just acting or if he's also a little upset (he's VERY upset)

he's also so so embarrassed that he's this upset about something so stupid, so obviously he has to do his utmost to confuse you so you wouldn’t notice his inner turmoil djbdbd

he'll eventually get over it, but the initial shock runs deep lol

will definitely tease you about it at some point or use it as a way to win an argument jdbdhhd

"Oh, would you have been upset about that if it was San too?"

and well, now you're angry, so he's quick to make it clear that he was just joking and will definitely make it up to you with a kiss

#ateez reactions #ateez fluff #ateez scenarios #ateez x reader #atz x reader #ateez fanfic #ateez imagines #ateez fic #hongjoong fluff #seonghwa fluff #yunho fluff #yeosang fluff #san fluff #mingi fluff #wooyoung fluff #jongho fluff #reaction #fluff #humor

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nexxen24 · 1 month ago

Text

Free Beer For A Year: Walker X Reader

Pairing: John Walker X Reader

Summary: When you and John are left at the Watchtower boredom starts to set in, but when he tells you about a bar and a perfect game of darts for free beer for a year, you decide to go have some fun and turn a simple contest into a bet.

Warnings: Just some language.

Word Count: 4090

AN: Since you all liked the first one, I thought I'd do it again!!! This one is a bit more lighthearted, less heavy and a bit cringey by the end imo haha. It's also a break from One Last Job since that fic got too heavy haha. Feel free to send over more John x Reader ideas!!(Also I love you if you get the references to the fake names the Reader and John use).

Free Beer for a Year

The last thing you wanted was to be stuck at the Watchtower with John F Walker…but there you were and sure Bob was around but he was always in his own head and you got bored easily. Half of the team, aka Ava, Yelena and Alexei were on some long winded mission that was going to take a few days, Bucky was off actually being a congressman in DC and dealing with Sam so that left you and a big empty tower…well…empty minus John Walker. The man was a nuisance, annoying and mean spirited with a massive mouth and an even bigger ego, determined to push every button that ever existed.

It didn’t help that Walker was also a good looking man, not hard on the eyes and blessed with a head of blonde hair that always sat at just the right angle. You needed other people in the Watchtower so their attention could keep you from just sitting there and staring at John like he was some kind of painting in a museum, or a statue…a handcrafted, marble statue.

“No…not now,” you muttered and shook off the thoughts, going back to aimlessly stirring a drink you hadn’t touched in the close to twenty minutes you’d been sitting in the living room.

The TV was turned off, Bob was down in the library, even John was nowhere to be found but you just couldn’t make yourself do anything, it was maddening. Bob had made the undiagnosed ADHD joke before and you never believed him…but now. Maybe it was the past catching up with you, you were a HYDRA test subject like Bucky, grabbed in the early 2000’s as a young adult, thanks to a SHIELD mission gone wrong and experimented on when they dipped into mutant genes rather than just super soldiers. Portals, extremely good accuracy and enhanced durability is what you came out with and you know…trauma. Having Bucky around helped but with him gone…the memories were suffocating and you debated screaming just for the hell of it when Walker himself sauntered in.

Your eyes locked for a split second and you tried to keep yourself sane despite the display that he just brought forth into the common area, the tank top and shorts combo, not to mention his sweat drenched hair and half smile, it was intoxicating. He didn’t look away until you did and you just knew the guy had a smile on his face knowing that he got you, that he made you feel something, made you flustered. Anyone with eyes would be flustered and while John didn’t have the rock solid and carved chest of a classic comic superhero, his was more natural, soft and huggable in a weird way but still healthy and reflective of a training schedule he followed like it was a religion.

Your mind wandered back to a moment a couple weeks ago when the memories leaked into your dreams and turned them into nightmares so you were up way earlier than normal with absolutely nothing you could do about it. Sleeping wasn’t an option and since it was closing in on 4am, no one else was awake so you started to wander, looking into corners of the Watchtower you’d never seen before and eventually stumbled into the massive gym two floors below the common area.

It was needed for a group like this and state of the art with only the best technology Val’s money could buy. Hologram training programs and workout equipment that not even pro-athletes had the pleasure of saying they trained with, not to mention a whole collection of equipment you couldn’t even begin to understand. Your workout of choice was a nice run through Central Park with Yelena and Ava in tow, maybe a coffee after, not the contraptions the boys seemed to adore.

So you were just staring at one of them, trying to figure out how it all worked when John walked out from grabbing a shower and him bumping into a table and letting out a curse made you turn. You immediately regretted turning, spotting John in a pair of workout shorts, shirt off since he was in the process of putting it on when he hit the table. Your eyes locked on the shorts, hung low on his hips and when your eyes moved across his chest in appreciation and finally met his eyes you frowned at the smile on his face. It was cocky, like always, and you just knew that being so enamoured by a shirtless John was fueling his already massive ego.

“Like what you see?” he asked and you looked away.

“Just wondering why you're up,” you muttered and he pulled on the shirt in his hands.

“Why? Too early?”

“It’s like 4:30,” you shot back and John shrugged.

“I’m normally up this early, I like to workout before everyone else is up, then cook breakfast.”

“You sure it’s not lingering military training?” you asked and he chuckled.

“It might be,” he muttered and got to work, setting up the machine and doing some strength training as you lingered by the door, unsure if you should leave him be.

“Good luck,” you said and decided it was best to leave, let him do his own thing and you’d see him later when he made breakfast for the team.

Hearing John admit that he was so stuck up about his workouts because of the military opened up your eyes to other things that he did because of it, the way he kept his room neat and always grabbed his food last, no matter what. As much as John refused to admit it…he cared for the team and maybe in some way…you especially. He didn’t look that annoyed when you two were left alone with Bob at the Watchtower and you liked the smile he shot you when he walked into the common room. Now, he was sitting across from you as you eyed the flyer he handed you when he walked in, a bright smile on his face.

“What is this?”

“An idea of what we can do today.”

“Free beer for a year,” you read and he grinned. “How?”

“So…the bar is new, it opened like a week ago and they have this promotion where if you chug three of their signature pints of beer and play a nine dart finish, you get it for a year.”

“A nine dart finish?”

“You have to complete a game of darts, as in three sets, in only nine darts. The traditional nine-dart finish requires a score of 60 with each of the first six throws: that is, with the first two shots of three. Leaving you with 141 to score on the last three darts which can be done in a few ways but a treble 20(60), treble 19(57) and a double 12 is probably what they’re after.”

“I’m assuming it’s pretty hard.”

“Professionals train their entire career for this game, the six sixties are already challenging but that 141 just adds a whole other layer. But…your powers…”

“I can do it no brainer,” you muttered and he nodded, a wide grin on his face. “Isn’t shooting darts after drinking beer…dangerous?”

“Probably, the bar might not last and no one has managed it but today is the last day and you know me, I love beer.”

“What if…I want to win and don’t want to share,” you shot back and he frowned at you.

“I mean…I’m pretty accurate but we’ll share the beer.”

“No…I want to beat you,” you said and John grinned.

“Okay…what do I get when I win?” he asked and you chuckled.

“Oh…that’s rich coming from you.”

“What do I get?”

“Whatever the hell you want,” you challenged and had a small, miniscule hope that he’d ask for a kiss and really make the day interesting. “Loser buys. Food and the challenge.”

“Fine, I’ll take that bet. Be prepared to run drills with me at 4am every day.”

“That’s what you want?” you asked and he shrugged. “A training partner.”

“Why? What do you want?”

You thought for a second about what you could possibly gain from him besides a kiss that he might argue you were using to hold over his head. Asking for a kiss was a challenge in itself and a part of you worried he’d be offended. But there was another thing and John waited with baited breath for what you were gonna say, curious as to just how bold you were willing to be.

“If I win,” you began and grinned. “You have to start sleeping in.”

“What?”

“No more being up at 4, at least until 8 or 9.”

“Sleep in,” he muttered and you wondered if that hint of disappointment was really there.

“Yeah…you’re not military anymore, you can afford some more sleep.”

“Okay…I can do my workout at 9,” he said and you smiled, glad he seemed to like the idea of getting a bit more sleep every morning.

Sure you enjoyed seeing him workout early in the morning when you couldn’t sleep but the eye bags were clear, the fatigue was real and it had leaked into his daily life. If winning against him in a game of darts was going to make him sleep, then that was what had to be done, so you gave him a nod.

“Shall we?”

“Of course, let me change.”

You nodded as John wandered off, sending you one last grin as he moved down the hall to get ready for your outing. You kind of hoped that he’d win, that he’d change his mind of making you a workout partner and a kiss might be on your horizon, or maybe a bit more. For as much as John annoyed you and drove you insane and acted like an asshole for literally ninety percent of the time you were around him, there was something about him that drove you insane…in a different way. Maybe it was the smile or the way his hair sat just right and how he got all sweaty when he worked out for too long or the stolen glances at the end of missions, a silent confirmation that you were okay.

Or it was the moments where the memories of HYDRA came flooding back to you, the moments on missions where you ended up in one of their old bunkers and suddenly couldn’t think straight. There was a moment months back, a particularly bad mission where things got real dicey, inside a HYDRA facility of all places and the memories began to become too much. John was there, he caught your eye, he pulled you aside and even offered a hug when they wouldn’t stop.

That moment, pressed against his chest with all the nonsense going on around you was like a small moment of peace in a world full of fear. As much as John was eager to pick fights and be an ass, you’d seen his softer side and the softer side made all the little quips and the back and forth more than worth it.

***

Big Cat Bar was located in Jersey, not New York but since the two states were practically next to each other, it wasn't that long of a drive. A part of you was worried that being Avengers and being out in public would cause you to be recognized but John didn't look that concerned. He was currently trying to park the car, a shared Black Ford Explorer, as you spoke your worries out loud.

“Won't we be recognized?”

“Just brush it off, say you get it a lot but aren't them.”

“Does that work?”

“I went with Yelena to get coffee a week back and there was this guy who kept looking at us, even though Yelena was in casual clothes, even had a hat on. Finally, I asked him about it and he went: “Are you that fake Captain America on the new Avengers team?” And I brushed it off and said I just looked like him and the guy went, “Oh good, that guy sucks.””

“He didn't.”

“He did, Yelena still hasn't forgotten it.”

You chuckled as John frowned and finally got the SUV into a good position before he cut the engine and jumped out. Getting recognition for your work was a new experience since before…everything was done in the shadows. Before HYDRA you worked for SHIELD, as one of their field agents, specializing in infiltration and recon, a master at being in the shadows. Not being seen was a blessing in your line of work, it meant you got the job done and did it right. Sure back when you saved New York from the debris and then Void the recognition was nice…but foreign, unheard of to you. Even being in crowds was a lot and you stuck close to John as he walked over to the bar, a wide smile on his face.

“What can I get you?”

“We'd like to try your challenge.”

“Nine darts for one year?” The bartender asked and John nodded. “Alright, it's twenty bucks per entry and you have 3 hours to complete the game. We allow for extra time since lining up shots is quite hard. Oh also, the challenge ends if you miss one of those 20s on the first few darts.”

“Really?”

“I mean, there's no coming back.”

“Alright, we'll be careful,” John assured and handed the guy his card, eyeing you as a way of reminding you that you’d owe him if you lost.

“Good luck,” the guy said and handed over the three pints as you both got to chugging them.

At least the signature was good, quite good and it went down smooth, shared with John over a plate of nachos that he ordered because you needed fuel for the task at hand. After the three of them you could understand why any regular human would be tipsy but for two enhanced humans, you both felt fine. The bartender from before walked over to supervise and handed over the nine darts, reminding you both of the rule…miss one of the triple 20’s on the first six throws and you're out. He looked smug when he said it, under the impression you were gonna fail the first throw like most people but he was underestimating you.

Your ability, the one to do with accuracy, was unique…you picked a target and as if you weren't in control, your body lined itself up perfectly to hit it and it didn't matter what the projectile was. Guns, darts, even bottles of water chucked towards Bucky in training, every single one was thrown with perfect accuracy. John lacked the perfect part but he was still scarily accurate, the serum enhancing his vision and reflexes which allowed for small miniscule changes at the last possible second. He'd be a formidable opponent and lined up his shot as you picked the small slice of the triple 20 ring. When you reached back to throw the dart you could feel the way your arm tilted slightly back, adjusting since you were off and gave John a grin.

“Patrons of Big Cat, let us welcome our next two hopefuls trying to win free beer for a year. Who are you?”

“Uh…Lewis,” John muttered and you raised a brow as he turned to you.

“Ummm…Alice.”

“Lewis and Alice. You have three hours to throw nine darts and get to 501, I'll have you know that this is only possible if you manage to hit the triple 20 on each of the first six throws. Miss one…and you can't make it. Do you agree to these terms?”

“Yes,” John said and you gave the guy a nod.

“Alright, I'm Sean, find me at the bar when you're done,” he said and you could barely hear him mutter about how that wouldn't be long from now.

“Ready?”

“More than ever,” you muttered and breathed out before letting the dart fly, hitting the twenty nearly at the same time as John.

The small crowd gave you a cheer of encouragement and you laughed, grabbing the second and a sip of the fourth beer that you guys ordered just for fun. You eyed the twenty ring and your body adjusted as John had to manually move his arms to get himself in a good position. But the adjustment worked and the second dart also hit its mark as you glanced back at Sean, the man's jaw dropping.

“This is almost too easy,” John shot back and you chuckled.

“Almost, we should look like we're struggling.”

“Hey, we're giving them a show,” John shot back in reference to the crowd that had gathered around you.

“Let's give them more.”

You spent the better part of close to an hour, shooting all six triple 20's and the crowd had only gotten bigger. Sean had even wandered over, abandoning his place at the bar to ogle at your accomplishments. You were close to making it all the way to 501 and your accuracy hadn't slowed, even with another beer and a mojito in your system. You could keep going all night but knew that people were starting to be a bit suspicious of the pro dart players that just so happened to stumble in. The last three darts had to count and you stopped lining up your shot as John raised a brow.

“Yes?”

“I'll go after you, let's make this last.”

“Okay then, enjoy the show,” he muttered and you rolled your eyes as he set himself up.

You stood back a bit to give room and to admire the outfit he chose, a pair of cargo shorts, a white t-shirt, a Georgia Bulldogs hat and a button down adorned with small pictures of what looked like parrots. It was hot for New York in June so it felt appropriate and it was almost jarring to see him so casual. A few months back John refused to go anywhere without looking like an undercover cop but being around the team had made him soften a bit and you liked it. He looked like some kind of suburban dad out at the bar with some friends and it was a look you could learn to appreciate.

Your own attire had him turning his head when you stepped out in jean shorts, and an old Ramones t-shirt with an oversized blue and white flannel thrown overtop and your own hat, a Rangers hat since hockey had always been your sport of choice. It was casual and you liked being casual, it meant you were free to relax. No longer stuck in tech wear or spandex, easy to move and run in sure but not easy to relax in and you'd been waiting a long time to just relax.

“Watch this,” John muttered and nailed his seventh triple 20 of the round, lining him up for the nine dart finish.

“I can do that,” you muttered and moved up, eyeing the target before your body adjusted and you hit it a few seconds later.

“Nice shot.”

“You sound like Wii sports,” you shot back and he chuckled.

“Maybe I'll find a Wii online and I can beat you at golf at home,” he suggested and you smiled at the thought of a New Avengers Wii tournament.

“We'll make another bet,” you said and John sighed, lining up his next shot, a triple 19.

“You'll probably lose that one as well,” he muttered and nailed the nineteen as the crowd roared, excited to see someone actually complete the nine dart finish.

“Oh, I doubt it,” you muttered and nailed your own nineteen without even really looking, really amping up the crowd.

“You're showing off, Alice,” he shot back and your spine tingled at the way he said your fake name.

“I always do, Lewis,” you said and smirked at the way his jaw clenched.

“One last shot before you need to workout with me.”

“And if we both win?”

“I guess it all works out,” he muttered and turned, grabbing the ninth dart and letting out a deep breath.

John adjusted himself, his arm shaking just a small bit as he pulled back and let the dart soar, the crowd silent in anticipation. He needed that twelve and he needed it to be doubled, being only 24 points away from 501. John watched as the dart looked like it hit the small outer double ring but upon further inspection, something was wrong.

“Sean?” You called and he walked over, stepping forward to examine the board before calling you both over.

To your collective shock the dart missed the ring by barely an inch, sitting on the wrong side of the small metal wire in the single twelve space. John was twelve away in nine darts and his perfect set was incomplete. The crowd let out a collective gasp when Sean announced it, shocked that after all this, the godlike dart player had finally missed. John sighed and you gave him a solemn pat on the back, wondering why he didn't look as upset as the crowd felt.

“I guess I'm sleeping in tomorrow,” he muttered and you grinned, almost forgetting about the bet.

“Yeah…”

“That's not what you wanted,” he said and you eyed him, moving back to throw your last dart. “Is it…you didn't want me to just sleep in.”

“No…I didn't.”

“Why not pick something else?”

“Because I was worried.”

“Of?”

“Of you thinking I made this stupid bet just to get what I wanted, that I was too chicken to act on my feelings and instead used this to avoid it.”

“Feelings?”

“Yeah…for you.”

“Really?”

“Look…don't get me wrong, you suck. But I can't get enough of it. Every time you say one of your stupid quips or start fights or call out bullshit while also doing something wrong it drives me insane.”

“In a good way?” John asked and you chuckled.

“In a great way,” you assured and he smiled at you as you set up your last dart, knowing you could hit that twelve with your eyes closed. “I'll share my beer.”

“Oh…I don't fucking care about the beer.”

Your eyes widened when he grabbed your face as soon as you let go of the dart, pulling you in for a kiss. Sure enough those feelings weren't your own, John shared them and had been trying to find a way to get you alone for months. He assumed a simple game would do the trick and was thrilled when you turned it into a contest. He was going to change his mind if he won, the workout idea was nothing but bullshit, a way to get you to go. He loved the competition and the way your eyes lit up as you kept nailing every throw, getting closer and closer to that 501.

When you and John finally turned to look at the board the dart wasn't even close to the 12 and most of the crowd had disappeared. You were shocked, for the first time since HYDRA you missed, you didn't hit your target. But when John pulled you into another kiss and practically wouldn't stop the whole ride back to the tower you understood. You hadn't really been aiming at the twelve, you didn't care about the beer, you just cared about him. Sometimes your powers were finicky, they aimed at things you never intended to hit but were just on your mind at the time. John was one of those things and sure you missed the twelve but no one could argue you didn't still hit your mark.

For the next year, you and John frequented the Big Cat, first as a couple friends trying to figure out feelings and then on a couple dates. You liked their signature ale after all and the nachos weren't even half bad. But the best part was the small photo they hung above the dart board of the couple that got so close, that threw eight perfect darts. To everyone else you failed that night, you missed the mark but to you and John it was a perfect game. A perfect nine out of ten to put it in dart terms and you wouldn't change it for anything. Not to mention the relief when he kept your demand as well and you found yourself enjoying sleeping in next to him...way past 9am.

Sure the free beer would've been nice and your outings definitely wouldn't cost as much…but someone to share it with…now that was priceless. And it was all thanks to the slow creep of boredom settling in and the world's stupidest bet.

#john walker #mcu fanfiction #thunderbolts*#fanfic #marvel #marvel fanfic #john walker fanfic #john walker fanfiction #john walker x reader #john walker fluff #beer and darts #bets and kisses

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saxophonesir · 5 months ago

Text

Part four of my white passing Tim Drake agenda

It started with a joke.

Dick had been helping Tim clean up his apartment—by which he meant Dick was lounging on Tim’s couch, making comments, while Tim actually cleaned.

Tim was reorganizing his bookshelf when Dick, scrolling through his phone, snorted. “Man, I swear, Bruce has us all collecting languages like trading cards. What are you at now? Five? Six?”

Tim rolled his eyes, shifting a stack of books. “Seven.”

Dick let out a low whistle. “Show-off. What are they?”

Tim didn’t even look up. “French, German, Spanish, Russian, Latin, Greek, and Mandarin.”

Dick froze. “Mandarin?”

Tim, still distracted, hummed in confirmation. “Yeah.”

A beat of silence. Then—

“Huh.”

Tim turned, eyebrow raised. “What?”

Dick sat up, studying him like he’d just grown a second head. “You speak Mandarin.”

Tim frowned. “Yeah? So?”

Dick gestured vaguely at him. “Since when do you speak Mandarin?”

Tim rolled his eyes. “Since I learned it, obviously.”

Dick scoffed. “No, I mean—why?”

Tim blinked, thrown off by the question. “…Why does anyone learn a language?”

Dick narrowed his eyes. “Okay, but, like… was it just for missions? Or did you—” He cut himself off, his brain finally catching up.

Tim saw the exact moment it clicked.

Dick’s eyes widened slightly, his expression shifting from confusion to realization to something softer. “Wait. Is this a family thing?”

Tim sighed. He should’ve known this was going to happen eventually. “…Yeah. My mom was Chinese.”

Dick stared at him. “Holy shit.”

Tim rolled his eyes again. “Really? That’s your reaction?”

“I mean—! I just—!” Dick gestured wildly, clearly thrown. “Dude, how did I not know that?”

Tim shrugged, turning back to his bookshelf. “I don’t really talk about it.”

Dick was still staring, his brain visibly short-circuiting. “I just assumed—you know, rich Gotham kid, white parents—” He groaned, dragging a hand down his face. “God, I’m an idiot.”

Tim smirked. “Finally, something we can agree on.”

Dick huffed, then, after a pause, asked, “So… do you actually use it? Like, can you hold a conversation?”

Tim hesitated, then admitted, “…My Mandarin is kind of crap.”

Dick’s brows shot up. “But you speak seven languages?”

Tim groaned, flopping onto the couch beside him. “I know! It makes no sense! I can read it fine, my grammar’s solid, but my accent—” He shook his head. “Apparently, I sound awful.”

Dick snickered. “Like, ‘off’ how?”

Tim glared at him. “Like, I sound like a white guy reading from a phrasebook.”

Dick lost it, doubling over with laughter. “Oh my god—”

Tim shoved him. “Shut up.”

Dick was still grinning. “No, no, it’s just—it’s so you! Of course you’d be perfect at every other language but sound like a tourist in the one tied to your own family.”

Tim scowled. “Glad you find it funny.”

Dick nudged him playfully. “Hey, it’s kinda endearing. And, you know, we do have a bunch of native speakers in the family. If you ever wanna work on it, I’m sure Damian would love to mock—I mean, help you.”

Tim groaned. “Great. Exactly what I need.”

Dick grinned. “Hey, I think it’s cool. And, you know, if you ever do wanna talk about it, I’m all ears.”

Tim glanced at en gave a small nod. “Yeah. Thanks, Dick.”

Dick beamed. “Anytime. Now, say something in Mandarin. I gotta hear this accent.”

Tim threw a pillow at his face.

Now, Bruce. Bruce prided himself on knowing everything about the people in his life. It wasn’t just a habit—it was a necessity. Information was protection. If he knew, he could prepare. If he could prepare, he could keep them safe.

It wasn’t arrogance—it was necessity. Their lives depended on preparation, on understanding the people they fought alongside. He had contingency plans for all of them, profiles meticulously detailed, habits cataloged. He knew how Jason held his jaw when he was about to throw a punch, the exact lilt in Dick’s voice when he was covering up exhaustion, the barely perceptible shift in Damian’s stance when he was about to lie.

And yet, somehow, he had missed something so fundamental about Tim that it made him question everything.

He had overheard it by accident.

A rare quiet evening in the manor, Damian and Tim sitting at the long dining table, a chess game between them. Bruce had only been half-listening as he went over case notes, his mind caught between the present and the ever-growing weight of unfinished business. Then, in a tone that was more observational than judgmental, Damian had said, “Your pronunciation is dreadful. It is almost shameful, considering your background.”

Tim had groaned. “Yes, thank you, Damian. I’m aware.”

Bruce hadn’t thought much of it at first—until Damian continued.

“It is strange. You should be more naturally inclined toward it.”

Tim had sighed. “Yeah, well, language skills aren’t genetic, Damian. And just because my mom was Chinese doesn’t mean I grew up speaking it fluently.”

Bruce had stilled.

It was such a small thing. Just a few words exchanged between brothers.

But they hit Bruce like a blow to the chest.

Tim’s mother was Chinese.

Janet Drake—distant, sharp, refined—had been Chinese. And Bruce had never once thought about it. Never questioned it.

And suddenly, all the little things he had overlooked over the years began to piece themselves together.

The way Tim brewed tea with an almost unconscious precision. The books on his shelves, some with spines marked in Chinese characters. The way he sometimes hesitated before saying certain words, as if recalling something half-forgotten. The fact that he had never quite seemed at home in spaces meant for him, never quite fit into the image of “Timothy Jackson Drake” that the world had constructed around him.

Bruce had missed it.

And that realization settled deep inside him, alongside all the other failures he carried when it came to Tim.

Because, of course, he had missed it. Of course, Tim was the one son he had never quite been able to read.

With Dick, there was warmth, openness. With Jason, there had been fire, defiance. Even Damian, for all his sharp edges, had a clear, undeniable presence.

But Tim?

Tim had always been quiet. Always watching. Always adapting. A chameleon in any situation, taking up only as much space as the moment required. He was easy to perceive, but never to see.

And now Bruce was wondering—how much else had he missed?

The thought lingered with him long after Damian had won the chess game and Tim had grumbled about it. Long after they had cleared the board and gone their separate ways.

That night, Bruce found himself in the cave, staring at Tim’s file on the Batcomputer.

It contained everything—height, weight, medical records, case history. But nowhere in those cold, analytical lines of text was the truth of who Tim was.

Who he had always been.

Bruce sat in the dim glow of the monitor, fingers steepled, jaw tight.

For the first time in a long while, he felt like the world’s greatest detective had failed to solve the most important case of all.

His own son.

It makes sense now, in everything Bruce had dismissed before. When he overheard Tim practicing Mandarin with Damian, his accent just slightly off. When he’d caught sight of an old photo of Janet Drake, tucked away in a folder on Tim’s desk. Or when it was the tea—chrysanthemum, Tim had said absentmindedly one night, a quiet tradition carried from his mother, a detail Bruce had never thought to ask about.

It was staggering.

Not because it changed anything—Tim was still Tim. But because he had missed it. Because it made him realize just how much he had always been missing when it came to Tim.

It was a quiet night in the Cave when he finally said it.

“I didn’t know.”

Tim, hunched over the Batcomputer, barely looked up. “Know what?”

Bruce hesitated. “That your mother was Chinese.”

Tim’s fingers froze over the keyboard.

For a second, there was nothing. Then, slowly, Tim turned, raising an eyebrow. “You didn’t?”

Bruce exhaled, feeling something heavy settle in his chest. “No.”

Tim studied him, and Bruce could see it happening—Tim processing, assessing, deciding how to react.

Then, with a faint, almost amused scoff, Tim said, “Huh. And here I thought you knew everything.”

Bruce closed his eyes briefly. “I should have.”

Tim was quiet for a long moment, and when he spoke again, his voice was unreadable. “Does it bother you?”

Bruce’s eyes snapped open. “Of course not.”

Tim tilted his head slightly, like he was testing Bruce’s reaction, looking for cracks in his composure. “Then why bring it up?”

Because I failed you.

Because you’re my son, and I should have known.

Bruce exhaled. “Because I realize now how much I’ve overlooked.”

Tim blinked at that, clearly not expecting the admission.

Bruce pressed on. “I… I’ve always felt like there was something missing. Like I was never able to connect with you the way I do with the others.” His jaw tightened. “I thought it was just me. That I was failing in some way.”

Tim’s expression flickered—something unreadable, something quiet.

“…Bruce.” His voice was softer now, less guarded. “It’s not like I was hiding it.”

“I know.”

Tim glanced away, drumming his fingers against the desk. “…Guess I just never thought it mattered.”

“It does,” Bruce said simply.

Tim let out a slow breath, then, after a pause, smirked. “Well. If it makes you feel better, I barely speak Mandarin anyway. My accent’s terrible.”

Bruce gave him a look. “Yes, I’ve heard.”

Tim groaned. “Oh my god, not you too—”

Bruce let the corner of his mouth quirk up, just slightly.

Tim rolled his eyes, but there was something lighter in his expression now, something easier.

And Bruce… Bruce felt it, too.

Maybe they weren’t as disconnected as he had always feared.

Part three

#tim drake #batman #bruce wayne #batfam #dick grayson #asian tim drake

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ghostlynightpanda · 21 days ago

Note

Hey there! Your Ranpo fics are the best! I love how well you capture his character! If it's alright with you, could I ask for some comfort/fluff with him? Only if you want to! What I was thinking of was Ranpo starting to date a reader/partner who wasn't always treated well throughout their life, causing them to be awestruck and kinda unnerved by basic human decency. They're confused when he doesn't yell or berate them for minor mistakes, force them to do anything or go anywhere they don't want to, and doesn't withhold his affection as punishment, since that's what usually tended to happen with their family or when they let people get too close. Eventually it sinks in that Ranpo is a safe space who adores them, although they don't unlearn a lifetime of abuse overnight and still have their anxious moments. They start to become more relaxed in the relationship and even with their friends around the office. I'm sorry if this is too dark or specific or hard to form a plot around. You can ignore this with no hard feelings if you have any issues with it. I understand completely.

Footprints to You

synopsis: After a lifetime of neglect and emotional abuse, you find a new beginning with the Armed Detective Agency—and with Ranpo Edogawa, whose unwavering care teaches you that love doesn’t have to be earned through perfection. As you navigate old fears and new happiness, you slowly learn what it means to be safe, wanted, and loved simply for being yourself.

content/warning: Ranpo x fem!reader, mentions of toxic ex-relationships, fluff, hurt/comfort, -4.498 words

The office was unusually quiet for once.

Sunlight streamed lazily through the large windows of the Armed Detective Agency, throwing soft golden shapes over the wooden floors. Papers shuffled, fingers tapped lightly against keyboards, and Kunikida's quiet sighs floated across the room as he adjusted his glasses for the third time in ten minutes. Somewhere in the corner, Atsushi laughed at something Yosano had said, and the air carried that strange kind of peace only found at the Armed Detective Agency when no one was being attacked or sent into mortal danger.

You were happy.

Genuinely, softly, happy.

Your eyes drifted to the small, crinkled bag tucked deep inside your bag—the one you'd been carrying around all day like a bomb with no timer. A snack. Nothing big. Just a little sweet thing you saw last night while shopping. Limited edition. Strawberry-flavored. Ranpo's favorite.

You hadn't thought much of it when you bought it. He'd love this, you had thought, standing in the convenience store aisle with your arms full of things you didn't need. It wasn't a big deal, just something small. A little gesture. Normal couples did things like that, right?

And yet, the bag had remained untouched in your possession all morning and afternoon, weighing heavier than it should've, your stomach turning every time you even considered giving it to him.

What if he thinks it's weird? What if he thinks you're weird? Clingy? Needy? Even, pathetic?

You swallowed.

Ranpo sat just a few desks over, lounging in his chair, feet propped up on his desk like he owned the place. (To be fair, emotionally, he sort of did.) His hat was tilted slightly to the side as he munched happily on a handful of sugary snacks, looking completely content.

He wouldn't get mad… right?

Still, the thought of approaching him made your heart race. You stared down at your bag as if it would answer for you. You should just forget it. Throw it away later. No harm done.

But then he glanced over at you. Bright green eyes catching yours. His head tilted in that sharp, inquisitive way he had when he was moments away from saying something that would embarrass you in front of the whole agency.

You panicked. Stood up. Walked over too fast.

"Hey, uh," you started, trying to keep your voice even. "I, um… got something. For you."

He perked up immediately. "For me?" His eyes sparkled, amused and expectant.

You fumbled with the bag, hands trembling just slightly. "It's, uh… nothing big. Just something I saw. Yesterday. Thought you might like it. But it's stupid, so if you don't want it, that's totally—"

Ranpo snatched it from your hands before you could finish. His face lit up like a kid on Christmas morning.

"No way—strawberry? You do love me!"

You flushed hard. "I never said—!"

"Too late!" he grinned, already tearing into the packaging. "You definitely love me. Look at you, all flustered. Caught red-handed being sweet." He took a bite and groaned dramatically. "Mmm. Perfection. 10 out of 10. I might even solve a case without complaining today."

You laughed, just a little, but your chest was tight.

It wasn't just the teasing. It was the way he looked at you—so open, so happy, like your small gesture hadn't just been accepted, but celebrated. There was no suspicion in his eyes, no calculation, no weighing of your worth behind every smile.

No asking, what do you want in return?

And that's what rattled you. Because this… this wasn't normal. At least, not the kind of normal you knew.

You hadn't been yelled at. You hadn't been accused of being weird or overbearing or attention-seeking. You hadn't been made to feel like a burden.

You had just… given someone a snack. And been smiled at like it meant the world.

How was that real?

Why weren't you being punished for wanting to be kind?

Ranpo leaned over suddenly, poking your forehead with one sugar-dusted finger. "Hey. You're thinking too hard again."

"I'm not."

"You are. I can deduce it." He wiggled his fingers dramatically. "Super detective powers, remember?"

You rolled your eyes, but the corners of your lips tugged upward despite yourself.

Ranpo grinned wider. "Relax, sweetheart. You're allowed to be nice to me. I'll even return the favor later. With a kiss. Or a riddle."

"Those aren't equivalent."

"You're not equivalent. You're extraordinary."

You froze.

He said it so easily.

For a moment, the hum of the office faded.

Ranpo was still chattering, pleased as ever with his snack, feet swinging childishly beneath his desk, but his voice blurred at the edges of your hearing. His affection felt too easy. Too natural. Like standing in warm water when you were used to ice.

Your hand hovered near your side, curling slightly into your palm as a memory surfaced, unbidden:

—

A kitchen. Dimly lit, the yellow bulbs overhead buzzing faintly. The clock on the wall ticked too loud in the silence.

You sat at the dinner table, feet barely brushing the floor. Maybe five or six years old.

Your parents sat across from you, not even glancing your way. The sound of forks scraping against plates echoed in the empty conversation.

"Mom," you tried, softly at first. "Mom, can I—?"

A sharp intake of breath.

Your mother's fork hit her plate with a metallic clang. "What now?"

You shrank slightly in your seat, throat tightening. You hadn't even asked yet.

Your father didn't look up from his food. "Don't start," he muttered.

You swallowed hard, heart thumping. "I just… I wanted to show you what I drew today."

Silence.

Your mother let out an irritated sigh, pushing her plate slightly away like the food had lost its appeal. "We don't have time for your nonsense. You're always talking. Can't you just—" She waved her hand vaguely, like shooing a stray dog. "Be quiet for five minutes?"

You looked down at your drawing—crumpled in your fist, wrinkled at the edges.

It wasn't that you didn't understand. They were busy. Grown-up stuff. You shouldn't bother them. You shouldn't need things. You shouldn't take up space.

That's what being good meant, right?

Being small. Being silent. Being invisible.

So you bit your tongue, nodded, and folded the paper in half. And then again. And again. Until it was a tiny square no one could see.

—

The sound of Ranpo happily crunching his snack brought you back to the present.

His eyes were still on you. Watching. Not with annoyance, not with exhaustion—but curiosity. Care.

He was never annoyed when you spoke. Sometimes he was annoying, sure—but never annoyed with you. Not once had he told you to be quiet.

And still, that old instinct lingered like a splinter beneath your skin: small, sharp, impossible to ignore.

You clenched your fist once, then slowly, carefully, let it go.

Ranpo leaned forward suddenly, plucking another snack from the bag and holding it out to you, like an offering. "Wanna share?"

Just like that. No test to pass. No hoops to jump through. No price.

"…Yeah," you said softly. "I'd like that."

And this time, when you smiled, it didn't feel forced.

The peaceful hum of the office didn't last much longer.

Kunikida's phone buzzed sharply on his desk, slicing through the gentle background noise like a blade. He answered, sharp and efficient as always, eyes narrowing almost immediately.

"Another theft," he muttered, barely a minute later, already moving to pull his notebook from his coat pocket. "Downtown. Jewelry store, smash-and-grab, broad daylight. The police think it's the same thief from last week."

You straightened in your chair slightly, listening as Atsushi and Yosano gathered around. You could already feel the shift in the atmosphere—the easy calm replaced with that focused buzz you were starting to recognize as the job.

"They've got officers posted, but if he slips away again, we're to step in," Kunikida continued, scribbling something into his notebook before snapping it closed. "Atsushi, Yosano—you're with me. Dazai's out with another case, so we're short."

His eyes landed on you and Ranpo.

"You two stay here. This should be simple, but if he gets away again, we'll need Ranpo's ability—and possibly yours, Y/N, depending on how much of a trail he leaves behind."

You nodded quickly. Support. You could do that. That was safe. Not too much pressure yet. And Ranpo would be here—

"Ohhh," Ranpo sighed dramatically, stretching his arms up over his head, his snack bag balanced precariously on his stomach. "Do I have to work today?"

Kunikida didn't even glance at him. "You'll be backup. Stay sharp."

Ranpo stuck out his tongue but made no further complaints. That alone told you he took it more seriously than he pretended.

Within moments, the others were gone, leaving you and Ranpo alone in the office.

The sudden quiet felt heavier now, somehow. Without the background chatter, it was just… you. And him. And the steady thrum of your heartbeat in your ears.

Ranpo glanced over at you, smirking lazily. "Looks like it's just you and me, detective."

You smiled faintly, tucking your hands between your knees to steady yourself. "Guess so."

He stared at you for a moment longer—like he could see every racing thought behind your eyes—and then just leaned his chair back further, resting his head against the top with a contented sigh. "Hope they don't catch him right away. I'm kinda in the mood for showing off."

You huffed softly through your nose, relaxing a little despite yourself. His confidence was ridiculous. Childish, even. But it worked. Anchored you.

Still… being alone like this, waiting, knowing you might be needed—

The thought made your stomach twist.

What if you messed up? What if your ability, Echo Trail, didn't lead you anywhere? When activated, it allowed you to see the footprints or movement traces of any person who had walked that path in the last two hours. The footprints appeared faintly glowing to you alone, trailing the exact route the person had taken in that time span.

But… what if you followed the wrong trail? What if more than one person had been there and you led the others to the wrong place?

What if they all realized you weren't good enough to be here after all?

What if Ranpo realized it?

The thought curled sharp around your ribs.

He noticed the shift in your posture, of course. Nothing got past him, even when he pretended not to care. "You're doing that thinking-too-much thing again," he pointed out lazily, tipping his hat down to shield his eyes like he was about to nap.

You tried to shake it off, tried to answer lightly. "Sorry. Just… want to be useful."

Ranpo cracked one eye open.

"Useful?" he repeated, like the word itself offended him. "You think I'd hang out with someone useless? You're already useful. And cool. And, y'know—you're dating me. Which means your life is basically perfect."

His grin was infuriatingly smug.

And somehow—somehow—it worked. The knot in your chest loosened a fraction.

But still, that old voice lingered. Not Ranpo's. Older. Sharper. The one that whispered, What if you fail again? What if they see it too?

—

A different voice now, not your parents. Lower. Crueler.

"Can't you do anything right? Is it really that hard to be useful for once? God, you're pathetic."

A plate shattered on the floor, and the sick feeling curling through your stomach had nothing to do with broken porcelain.

—

You blinked, forcing yourself back into the present.

Ranpo, oblivious to your spiraling thoughts—or maybe, aware of them but pretending otherwise for your sake—held up another piece of his snack between two fingers like a peace offering.

"Want another bite? Lucky flavor."

You snorted softly despite yourself. "You're making that up."

"Maybe," he said. "But it worked, didn't it?"

The call came not long after.

"Kunikida here. The thief slipped through. Backup's needed."

The tension in his voice was clear, even through the static of the speakerphone.

Ranpo groaned dramatically, sitting up straighter, brushing snack crumbs off his lap like it was the greatest inconvenience in the world. "Finally."

Your heart was already hammering as you grabbed your jacket, fingers fumbling for a second at the sleeves. This was it. This was you being useful. Needed.

You met up with them near the southern district—busy streets, too many people, too much noise. Kunikida gave you a quick rundown.

"He ran east from the scene. Black sneakers, worn tread, size around 10. Gray hoodie, jeans."

Ranpo was already stretching his arms like he was about to take a nap in the middle of the chaos. "Bet I'll solve it before you can write another note about it."

"Focus," Kunikida barked, before turning to you. "Activate your ability. If we can narrow it down fast enough, we might still catch him."

Your throat was dry. But you nodded, pushing past the sharp edge of hesitation building in your chest.

The world shifted faintly.

Around you, faint glowing footprints bloomed into sight like ripples on still water. Fresh ones, old ones, crossing, weaving—dozens of them along this busy sidewalk. Your stomach twisted at the sheer number.

Too many.

You scanned, hard, breathing shallow. Some prints glowed newer, sharper at the edges. Others dulled and blurred, evidence of how long ago they'd been left.

But the others' information helped. You filtered, narrowing by weight, stride, the tread pattern you could glimpse here and there.

There—black sneakers. Recent. Sharp glow. That had to be it, right?

"I've got something!" you called, pointing.

"Good work." Kunikida nodded. "Ranpo, you're with her. Follow it. Radio in if you find him."

"'Course," Ranpo said, already happily strolling beside you like this was a pleasant walk to a candy shop. "Lead the way, detective."

You moved quickly, weaving between pedestrians, following the trail. It led down one street, then another, turning sharply at a corner—

But something was wrong.

The footprints didn't look the same anymore. They'd become messier, overlapping more with others. You slowed.

Ranpo glanced at you, lazy smile still in place. "Something up?"

You swallowed. "I… I think… I think we picked up someone else's trail. Somewhere around that last corner—"

The realization hit like cold water to the chest.

You'd followed the wrong trail.

Wrong.

You messed up.

The shame was immediate. Your pulse roared in your ears, a sick, curling dread rising in your stomach.

Now came the yelling. The frustration. The punishment. The silent treatment. The—

"Eh?" Ranpo blinked at you. "Everyone messes up sometimes."

You stared at him.

That's it? That's it?

Ranpo dug into his pocket lazily, pulling out a crumpled piece of candy, still wrapped. "Want one? It's melon flavor."

He smiled like you'd just solved the case already.

Your breath caught in your throat. No irritation. No disappointment. Not even confusion about how you could screw up. Just… acceptance. Like it was the most normal thing in the world.

You opened your mouth to speak, but nothing came out. Just stunned silence.

Ranpo tilted his head. "What? Did you expect me to cry about it or something? It's fine. We'll just go back and fix it."

Like it was nothing.

Something in your chest gave a sharp, painful squeeze, and you weren't sure if it was relief, or disbelief, or both fighting for space inside your ribcage.

No yelling. No cruelty.

Just a piece of candy in his hand, offered without condition.

And that was somehow more disarming than anger ever could've been.

You forced yourself to breathe.

You messed up. But Ranpo's steady, almost ridiculous calmness grounded you more than anything else could have. His smile wasn't pity. It was just… trust. Unshaken. Like he knew you'd figure it out.

You swallowed, nodding to yourself.

"Okay… Okay. Let's go back."

Retracing your steps carefully, you walked back to the intersection where you must have lost the real trail. The glowing footprints still crisscrossed everywhere, but now you were looking with sharper focus. You ignored the blur of older tracks, narrowing your search to the freshest, sharpest edges—the ones that pulsed faintly with recency.

There.

A second set. Smaller footfalls, slightly shorter stride, worn tread on the heels. Not the ones you'd followed before.

Your heart kicked harder in your chest. "I've got it this time."

Ranpo grinned. "Knew you would."

You didn't even stop to absorb the words, too focused now. Following this trail was easier, more certain. The glowing footprints wound around side streets, narrowing into less crowded alleys. A good sign. He'd gone somewhere to hide.

After a few blocks, the trail led to an old industrial building near the port, rust creeping up the side panels, a broken window near the back.

Your hand fumbled for your radio. "Kunikida—we've found something. Abandoned warehouse, near the old docks, south side."

"Good work," Kunikida's voice came through, sharp and clear. "We're five minutes out. Don't engage on your own."

"Sure, sure," Ranpo chimed in, "we'll just play hide-and-seek until you catch up."

You could feel your pulse in your throat as you both waited. Ranpo didn't seem tense at all—if anything, he was digging around in his pockets for more candy.

When the others arrived, it didn't take long to corner the thief.

Atsushi flanked one side, Kunikida covered the exits, Yosano watched the back in case he tried anything desperate. Ranpo, of course, hung lazily near the doorway, giving the occasional unhelpful comment like "If he jumps out that window, I'm not chasing him."

It didn't matter. The thief tried to bolt—but with coordinated precision, Kunikida and Atsushi had him subdued and handcuffed before he even made it to the alley.

The adrenaline finally left your body when the police arrived to take him into custody. Standing there with the others, watching the officers drive him away, you let yourself exhale fully.

They didn't even look angry. No one was disappointed. No frustration, no silent glares.

Just: "Good job."

Ranpo stretched lazily next to you. "See? Easy. Told you you'd be great."

Your throat tightened again. Not from shame this time, but from something you didn't quite have words for.

—

"Why do you always ruin things?"

Your mother's voice, sharp, eyes barely flicking to you over the rim of her coffee mug. "If you're not going to be helpful, then don't be here at all."

—

But standing here—beside Ranpo, with the ADA—you weren't ruining anything.

You were here. And for once, it felt like maybe that was enough.

Your apartment was quiet, warm with the late sunset spilling through the windows in soft orange hues. Everything felt peaceful.

Ranpo was already sprawled across your couch like he owned the place—which, to be fair, wasn't far from the truth at this point. He spent nearly every free moment glued to your side, and at this rate, he was probably here more often than at his own place. Not that you were complaining.

Sort of.

Maybe.

He had his socks half-off, one arm thrown lazily over his eyes as if the entire case earlier had been so exhausting, even though you'd been the one doing all the chasing. Crumpled candy wrappers formed a small collection near your coffee table.

You hovered awkwardly near the kitchen, chewing your lip.

It was late. You should start cooking.

The thought curled in your stomach like a knot. If you didn't, what if

You shook the thought away before it fully formed. Ranpo hadn't ever yelled at you before. But still… old habits were hard to kill. Even if he never had, that didn't stop your brain from whispering: What if this is the time?

—

It hadn't always been bad. That's what made it worse.

You remembered the early days—when his laugh had been loud and infectious, his hand warm in yours as you walked home together late at night. He used to tease you gently, surprise you with cheap little flowers from convenience stores, joking about how you deserved better than whatever life had handed you before him.

"I'll take care of you," he'd said, thumb brushing your knuckles. "You won't have to worry about a thing."

It almost sounded nice back then.

But slowly, that warmth shifted. Tilted.

It started small. A sharp tone when you forgot to answer a text. A frustrated sigh when you hung out with friends instead of going straight home.

Then one evening—

He walked through the door, bag slung over his shoulder, already scowling.

"Seriously?" His voice was sharper now, impatient. "It's not that hard to have dinner ready when I get here."

You blinked at him, hands nervously twisting the dish towel. "I—I didn't know when you were coming home—"

"That's not the point," he snapped. "What else do you even do all day?"

Something in your chest twisted painfully. You stared at him, mouth open, searching for that soft, teasing boy you used to know.

But he was already walking past you, muttering under his breath.

It's not that hard.

From that moment on, you started keeping track of the clock more. Started apologizing more. Started shrinking into yourself whenever the front door clicked open.

—

You stepped toward the fridge, already planning the quickest meal you could throw together before Ranpo got—

"Oi."

Before you even touched the handle, Ranpo's voice broke through your thoughts, sharp but not harsh.

You turned, startled, only to yelp softly when he reached out, grabbed your wrist, and pulled you down onto the couch like you weighed nothing.

Right onto his lap.

"Wha— Ranpo— I need to—"

"Nope," he said simply, arms wrapping around your waist as if he was restraining you for your own good. "You don't need to do anything. You're exhausted."

"But—"

"Not a 'but,' detective," he smirked, finally lifting his arm from his eyes, green gaze meeting yours with a glint of something soft beneath all the teasing. "You don't have to cook. Not for me. Not when you're tired. Especially not just because I'm here."

You blinked, heart hammering for entirely different reasons now.

"I—I don't mind—"

"I do," he interrupted, but not unkindly. "Seriously. Why make a whole thing when we can just order something stupid and greasy and I can spend all night annoying you on your couch instead?"

Your breath caught somewhere between a laugh and something fragile and aching.

No irritation. No disappointment. No subtle emotional punishments. Just Ranpo being Ranpo—unapologetically attached to you and making sure you knew it.

"I'd much rather hold you than watch you run around doing stuff for me like I'm some old guy who can't work a stove," he added, already pressing his chin against your shoulder like a lazy cat. "I like you, not whatever weird dinner you were about to microwave."

The words I like you rang louder in your chest than you expected them to.

And suddenly, without meaning to, you felt that familiar wave of confusion again. The why of it pressing against your ribs like an unanswered question.

Why was this okay? Why wasn't he upset? Why—

But then his hand squeezed yours gently, grounding you, steady and real.

"Seriously," he said again, quieter now, "stop worrying about stupid stuff. Just stay here with me."

So you did.

Not because you had to. Not because you were afraid not to.

But because, you wanted to.

The food came late—greasy takeout in flimsy containers, nothing special. But it was perfect anyway. You sat cross-legged on the couch, both of you eating lazily, Ranpo stealing bites off your plate like a mischievous child.

Afterward, you barely remembered how it happened—somewhere between cleaning up and complaining about Ranpo hiding wrappers between the cushions, you ended up curled against his chest. His pullover smelled faintly of sweets and that subtle something that was just him. His hand was absentmindedly stroking your hair, your back, not needing a reason or a goal—just to be close.

It was nice.

It was terrifying.

Even now, with his warmth all around you, your mind twitched nervously, waiting for the other shoe to drop. Waiting for a sharp word, for coldness, for that inevitable switch you'd learned to anticipate.

You shifted slightly, muscles tense, gaze flicking up to him like you were bracing for impact.

Ranpo's hand paused.

For a second, you thought maybe this was it. That you'd annoyed him, touched him wrong, said too much—

Then his arms tightened around you, his chin lowering so his lips brushed your hair.

"You know," he said quietly, no playfulness now, only warmth, honesty, "you don't have to keep waiting for me to get mad."

Your breath caught.

"I'm not stupid," he added softly. "I see it. The flinching. That look you get when you think you're bothering me, or when you're just… waiting for something bad to happen."

You swallowed hard, throat tight. His tone wasn't accusing. Just knowing.

"I don't need to be the world's greatest detective to figure that out," he murmured, a faint huff of amusement softening his voice. "It's obvious. You've been hurt. Someone made you feel like… like you weren't allowed to exist comfortably."

You didn't answer. Couldn't. Your chest felt too heavy.

He shifted just enough so you could see his face—soft eyes, lips curved into a small, knowing smile.

"I don't want the fake version of you," he said simply. "I want you. The whole you. Even the messy, annoying parts. Even the parts that get scared sometimes."

Your lip wobbled. "But what if that's not good enough?"

Ranpo blinked, like the question itself was almost laughably ridiculous. "'Course it's good enough. I'm not here because I want a maid or a personal chef. I'm here because I like you. You don't have to earn that. You don't have to perform for me."

His hand moved up, brushing your cheek gently with the back of his fingers. "You just have to be here. With me. If you want to tell me stuff, I'll listen. If you don't, that's fine too. I'm not going anywhere either way."

Silence.

You stared at him, blinking fast, not sure if you wanted to cry or laugh or both at the same time. For once, you didn't hear the echoes of angry voices in your head. Just his. Soft. Steady. Safe.

Finally, you let out a shaking breath, leaning your forehead against his collarbone.

"Okay."

Ranpo smiled against your hair, like you'd just given him the most valuable treasure in the world.

"I love you, you know," he added, almost lazily, but there was nothing careless about it. "Just figured I should say it more."

Your throat felt thick. "I love you too."

It wasn't perfect. You weren't healed, not by a long shot.

But for once, that felt okay too.

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#bungo stray dogs #bsd #ranpo edogawa #bsd ranpo #ranpo x reader #ranpo edogawa x reader #ranpo edogawa fluff #ranpo fluff #ranpo edogawa angst #ranpo angst

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billiethepumpkin · 1 year ago

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An Expanded Family: How They'd Be as Step-Parents

Warnings: Rated R. This content is intended for readers ages 18 years or older. If you are a minor, do not interact.

Contains: GN!Reader. Multiple family situations. Deceased parents. Coparenting. Absent parent. Blended families. Adoption of a younger sibling. Step-parent behavior.

Featuring: Izuku Midoriya. Ochaco Uraraka. Tenya Iida. Momo Yaoyorozu. Shoto Todoroki. Mirio Togata. Hitoshi Shinsou.

Author's Note: All characters are written to be adults because I am an old fuck :)

Izuku Midoriya

It had been the first thing he learned about you. You were a parent. Parenthood was deeply engrained in the way you operated, especially in the Pro Hero space.

When you started dating, though, it became so much more complicated than that.

He started overthinking immediately.

Deku was a lot of things. A lot of little kids looked up to him. He met people every day, but the pressure of meeting your little one was extremely high.

Sometimes you'd catch him mumbling to himself, practicing how to talk to a little kid. He knew that screwing this up might mean losing you forever.

But there is literally no possible way that he could screw it up. In any universe.

He decided to go with you and your four year old son to a playground. He put together a picnic and everything.

Izuku was perfect.

You were sure you fell in love with him all over again, watching him on the playground with your baby.

He was a little awkward at first, but as soon as your son asked him to play tag, Midoriya was all over it.

Your baby had him climbing up slides, going down fireman's poles, swinging on swings, the works.

And you couldn't tell who was having more fun: Izuku or your son.

Sometimes, Deku would come over and babysit for you while you had to run off to work or to run an errand.

Izuku always just treated them like playdates or sleepovers, though.

He asks your son's permission for everything first. Especially when he's about to take big steps in the relationship, like moving in.

But when Deku asked your son if he could move in with you guys, your son got all wide eyed and excited.

"Yeah!" he exclaimed, smiling wide. "It'll be like a big sleepover!"

Midoriya knew your son had another parent, whether they were involved or not. He wasn't really trying to take over the father role.

It just fit him so well.

Soon, he found himself making pancakes and packing lunches and planning birthday parties.

Midoriya loved the life he had with you and your son. He loved it much more than he had anticipated.

And when you saw how much he loved your son, and how much your son loved him, it sealed the deal for you, too.

Ochaco Uraraka

Ochaco was surprised to find out you had kids. You were always so put together.

Not that parents can't be put together, she supposed, but you just didn't really seem like the parent type when she met you.

But whenever she came over while your twin daughters were there, she immediately saw a different side of you.

It made her fall that much more in love with you.

The first time you asked her to babysit, you were on your way to the hospital to see your sister have her own baby. Their other parent was never really in the picture, and everyone else that you would normally ask to watch the babies was also going to the hospital.

Uraraka volunteered almost immediately.

She had been with the twins and you enough times that she thought she had the hang of it.

However, they were only three years old, and whenever it came time to feed them, Ochaco realized she knew so little about children.

Nothing she offered seemed to satisfy them. It took her a while to figure out what they wanted, with their picky palates.

But she did it, eventually.

She knew the routine. Dinner. Bath time. Show on the couch. Then bedtime in the room they shared.

That night, you came home to find your two girls asleep with their heads on Ochaco's lap, her head leaned back on the couch as she dozed, too.

You merely giggled and brought your two girls to their own beds, then brought Ochaco into bed with you.

After that, it took her a while to feel comfortable watching the girls without you.

But she was very good at following your parenting style whenever it was the two of you!

And, man they loved her.

Any chance they got, they dragged Ochaco into the floor to play with them.

Coloring books, ball games, dress up, anything they could convince her to do.

With your permission, she had even floated them a couple of times.

And it warmed your heart when you heard one of them ask her, "Ochaco, will you be my Mama?"

Tenya Iida

You only got your baby every other week.

Your son was still a newborn, and his other parent was still very much a part of his life.

You wanted to make as much of the time you had with him as possible. So originally, Iida wouldn't come over during the weeks that you had him.

However, all of that changed when his dad wanted to switch weeks for a family event that you'd had going on.

You'd been so absent minded about it that you had forgotten to tell Iida.

Tenya had offered to just go back home and to reschedule his visit for the following week. But you thought that was as good a time as any for him to meet your son.

Iida met your baby while he was sleeping.

He was quiet and attentive, taking in the entire nursery. He didn't think you had shown him that part of your house before.

And even though he loved you and your son, it took a long time for him to really feel like he was part of your family.

I mean, you were seemingly still really close with the baby's other parent. He was never going to be able to step inside the bubble of your family.

Especially because Iida never really did the whole "step-father" thing.

At least, not in the way that anybody else usually did it.

He was more clinical, more calculating, the way he was with everything.

He didn't give the baby any baths or diaper changes for the first six months that you knew him, at least. He felt like it was inappropriate for him, as someone who isn't even related to the baby, to be doing those things for him.

He would do almost everything else, though. Feeding, playing, walks, different learning exercises, cleaning, more feeding.

You knew that everything he ever said or did was only because he cared about you and your baby.

However, he was always insecure about it. He never thought he'd be able to get your ex to trust him, and he never wanted to give either of you a reason not to.

Until you had a conversation with him about it.

You had a heart to heart about how it felt like you were doing a lot of things alone in your relationship and that you needed him to do a little more.

It was then that he told you how much he worried about things like diaper changes.

After you had a long talk about it, he revealed that he had no problem with those kinds of things. He just worried that it would affect the baby's development, to have a stranger around for intimate moments like diaper changes.

After that, he started to help more. He became stronger and stronger as a caregiver for your baby.

He would never be the baby's father. You both knew that. And Iida wasn't trying to be his father. All Tenya wanted was to love both of you for as long as he could.

Momo Yaoyorozu

You had a ten year old daughter when you and Momo started dating.

In fact, Momo met your daughter almost right away. She didn't have much of a choice because you had a really hard time finding childcare for her while you were away.

Your ex wasn't in the picture and didn't want to be. You didn't want them to be either. And your family didn't exactly raise kids the way you wanted your daughter to be raised. So it was just you and your daughter for the last ten years.

Until Momo came along.

She started out as just a really good friend.

Plus, now your daughter had someone else to look up to in her real life. Momo was smart and powerful, and you wanted your baby to have a woman in her life to look up to. Momo was perfect.

And then it became so much more than that.

Soon, Momo was over every single day. She picked up your daughter from school when you couldn't. She helped with homework and studying. She made dinner and taught your daughter everything she could about math and science and chemistry and hero work, everything she could get out of her system

And your daughter really didn't know how to feel about Momo because she just came on so strong all the time.

I mean, your daughter did like Momo.

It was just hard for her not to have some big feelings. She only had one real parent, and she didn't like any of her other family because of how mean they were all the time.

And Momo went from her parent's friend that sometimes tutored her to the person that sometimes steals her only parent.

And sure, it was cool to have a superhero as a stepmom.

But really your daughter missed the days when it was just the two of you.

When you noticed, you were heartbroken. You apologized over and over, and you promised your daughter that you could plan more days for just the two of you.

Momo was fully supportive of you having more alone time with your daughter. She knew it was important for your daughter to have that bonding time.

Momo just wasn't really sure how to react at the news that your daughter wanted her around less. She hadn't really considered how much she cared for you and your family until then.

Somehow, even though Momo knew how important it was for your daughter to have you as a support system, she still felt rejected and sad. She didn't want to leave you alone.

Momo pulled away for a while. Not because she was angry or anything, but because she didn't know how much space she was supposed to give you to be with your daughter.

Eventually, your daughter did start asking about her again.

"When is Momo coming back over?" she asked one time on the way home from school. "I miss her."

It took a long time, but you eventually learned to balance your time with Momo and your time with your daughter.

Shoto Todoroki

You took in your younger brother when your parents passed away.

You were happy to do so. The two of you had always been close, and you were happy to be the one who takes care of him.

But he was a bitter, emotional thirteen year old boy whose parents had just passed away. And there was nothing you could do to ease his pain.

You did everything you could think of. You started both of you in therapy. You spent quality time together. You made his favorite meals. You invited his friends over. But nothing consoled him.

He was mean and angry. He was sad and anxious. He insisted on being alone the majority of the time.

And you spent so much time trying to help him heal that you ended up isolating yourself.

That was when you met Shoto. He was a good shoulder to lean on. He was never judgmental of you or your situation. He always listened and never spoke until the time was right.

Todoroki also put you first, the way that you were never able to. And you fell in love with him months after your brother moved in with you.

You were extremely careful of the way you presented your relationship to Shoto to your brother. You thought it would be too quick of a change for him so soon after the last one.

Your worry actually led to you keeping it a secret for a little over a month.

It wasn't on purpose. You always meant to tell your brother that you had a boyfriend. But at first he just wasn't responsive to anything you said.

But then he met Shoto on accident.

Shoto went into your apartment to grab something you needed for work. It was only meant to be a quick trip to the apartment, and your brother wasn't meant to be there.

But he was. Your brother had skipped school. Apparently it's something he'd been doing for a while. He would just walk home after you left for work.

Shoto found him, and they struck up a deal. Todoroki would teach him some skills in combat and he would avoid telling you about the skipping class if your brother would stop skipping school altogether.

Suddenly, Todoroki became best friends with your younger brother.

Your brother became more social, more active. He started talking to you again. He started getting better grades in school. He started joining you for family dinners.

And when you were finally able to tell your brother about the nature of your relationship with Shoto, it turned out that he already knew.

Apparently, he overheard you on the phone with Todoroki one night.

Todoroki became increasingly protective over your brother.

He took your brother to nightly training sessions to help him work off his emotions.

Your brother even convinced Shoto to try going to therapy himself, something he had considered but never actually went through with.

After that day, they started becoming closer. Almost brotherly, almost the relationship you knew Shoto was missing from his siblings.

You knew they both needed each other.

And Todoroki was so spoiling for the both of you. He took you both on trips. He bought you gifts for holidays. He took you to dinner and to his Pro Hero parties and banquets.

Every once in a while, he would work late, and he would refuse to come back to your place because he didn't want to wake up your brother.

And one day, when Todoroki had been at his own apartment for several nights after being on late night patrols, you heard your brother ask you from the other room, "When is Shoto coming home?"

And ever since then, the three of you became a happy family.

Mirio Togata

You and your daughter met Mirio in the park.

Your daughter had been just six years old. Her other parent had passed away when she was an infant.

Your parents lived far away, and your partner's parents couldn't bear to look at your daughter now that they'd had to bury their own child. And you couldn't really blame them because of how much she looked like her other parent.

It was just the two of you, you and your baby.

Mirio had brought is own daughter, one from a previous marriage.

Their divorce had been amicable, though his ex-wife had since made some poor life choices and was no longer able to visit or take his daughter on the weekends. So they spent their days visiting parks and playgrounds.

You met because your daughter had taken quite a fall off of the swings and scraped up her hands, and Mirio's daughter had helped her up. Mirio, then, helped her find you so you could bring her home.

You were thankful, and you took your daughter home after a brief exchange of niceties.

From then on, you always noticed him at the playgrounds you frequented. Your daughter became very good friends with his, and you found it in your best interest to become friends with Mirio.

The rest is history.

You found out that your daughters would be going to the same elementary school. And from then on, they did everything together.

Meaning that you and Mirio now did everything together, too.

Mirio was particularly doting on your daughter.

He would play with her whenever she asked, no matter how silly the game was.

He would give her piggyback rides into school.

He would nurture her whenever she needed loving.

But he also never neglected his own daughter. He made sure they still went out on their father-daughter dates to cafes and parks and playgrounds.

Watching him love the kids so much created a longing in your heart that was so strong you couldn't deny that you had feelings for him.

Eventually, things spiraled until the two of you were much, much more than friends.

You hadn't exactly explained anything to your daughters yet, but during a play date, they walked in on the two of you kissing.

It was innocent enough. Nothing got remotely steamy. But it was just an innocent moment.

You both startled when you heard "OoooooOOOOoooh!" from the two tiny voices peaking around the corner.

You all started laughing, and your daughters came bounding in the room. "You loooooove Mirio!" your daughter teased.

"Yeah, I guess I do!" you said with a smile, looking at him lovingly.

Mirio was just as doting and loving on your girls as he had been the entire time.

A couple of months into your relationship, you discovered that you were pregnant. And then a few months later, you welcomed a new baby boy into the family.

At first, your girls were so loving and doting on their brother. They "helped" feed him, change him, and bathe him, which really meant just talking to him and giving him lots of kisses.

But you could tell that something with your own baby girl had gone awry.

She would cling to you all hours of the day. She always wanted to be cuddling you, right by your side every minute of the day.

Eventually, she let it slip that she thought you and Mirio loved the new baby most.

You decided that you had to do something. Your baby had to know that you loved her just as much as the rest of the family.

So you set up a special time after the baby was laid down for bed at night where you all did something together.

Sometimes you'd watch a show and cuddle under blankets on the couch. Sometimes you'd play board games together. And sometimes you would take turns reading parts of books.

You each took your girls out on solo adventures whenever you could, making sure to spend time with them just as you did one another.

You did your best to make sure that your family unit all felt loved the way they deserved.

Hitoshi Shinsou

Shinsou actually met your eight year old son first.

You had been holiday shopping on one of the busiest nights of the year.

You knew you shouldn't have brought him with you. You knew you should've just waited until your parents could watch him.

But now, here you were, frantically running around the shopping center, waiting for your eyes to lock with his.

You couldn't help but shame yourself while you searched for him.

First, you got pregnant in high school. You knew you weren't mature enough to have a child, and all of this proved it. You were still a child yourself. You had no business raising a kid all on your own.

And then you saw it.

You saw your son being led through the crowd with a man with purple hair, and you finally breathed a sigh of relief.

Fast forward to a year and a half later, and you and that man were moving into the same apartment.

Shinsou had proven to be an amazing parent, even if he really hadn't seen himself as a parent before.

He knew he wasn't really the "step-dad" type, and he never pretended to be.

He just wanted to care for you and your son as much as possible.

Hitoshi really struggled at first.

Sometimes, when he was over, he just couldn't understand why he could wake you up in the night with some love and affection.

Eventually, you explained that your son's face was peacefully sleeping on the other side of the wall between your bedrooms. "What the hell would you do if he walked in, 'Toshi?" you had eventually asked.

The look on his face seemed like he'd seen a ghost when you asked.

It took him a long time to get used to the schedule, too.

You and your kid got up so freaking early.

And yeah, he knew it was for school. But that didn't mean he wasn't grumpy about the alarm buzzing on your bedside table at six every morning.

One morning, though, he had been awake when your son had woken up from a nightmare.

You would have been happy to wake up and be there for your son. But Hitoshi also knew this was his chance to really bond with him in a way he hadn't been able to. So he got up and led your son into the kitchen.

Hitoshi took the time to heat up some milk with honey and cinnamon mixed in, just like in that movie he had watched with you and your son recently... Oh, what was it called?... He couldn't remember.

They talked about the dream. Shinsou told your son all the ways that he remembered to be brave when he was afraid.

And ever since then, your son went to Shinsou for everything. It was like he was obsessed with your boyfriend.

Ever since then, they were best friends, always getting into one thing or another together.

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wwinterwitch · 25 days ago

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girl next door – bucky barnes x fem!reader

summary: bucky's feeling so lonely that he developed a little obsession with a camgirl, unaware that she's his neighbor

pairing: bucky barnes x fem!camgirl!reader

word count: 14.6k

tags: SMUT (like a lot!! but there's also plot), kinda loser!bucky at first, camgirl stuff (let's pretend i know how it works), m and f masturbation on and off camera, mentions of porn, dirty talk, alpine makes an appearance, bucky is dumb because he could've easily recognized you tbh, fear of catching feelings, overthinker!reader i guess, pet names (doll, baby), kinda softdom!bucky (he's sweet and shy sometimes but oh so sexy), kinda sub!reader, body worship, oral (f and m receiving), fingering, multiple orgasms, protected p in v (just the pill tho), awkwardness, a pinch of fluff

a comment and/or reblog is always appreciated!

all masterlists | marvel masterlist

It all starts on a casual Friday night.

Most people would be celebrating the arrival of the weekend, doing or planning something fun. But not Bucky. Oh, no, not him. He's far too worried about other things. His own way of…celebrating.

It’s important to make one thing cristal clear: he doesn’t have an issue. It's not like he has an addiction or anything. However, he does enjoy masturbating from time to time. Every guy does it. It's fine. Perhaps Bucky enjoys it a little too much, but it's not an obsession by any means.

He also enjoys watching porn when he does it. Again, nothing wrong with that. Completely normal. It just gets him in the mood. He has a few preferred selections that really get him going, having perfected his list of porn videos to fit his precise likes. The ones that fit all his requirements to get really turned on. The ones that make bursting in his hand...as satisfactory as a handjob can get.

It's not like a handjob isn't phenomenal. He loves it! But sometimes he wishes he could have someone to help him out from time to time. It’s been a while since he’s had sex with someone, so logically he’d find himself missing that sort of intimacy from time to time. Is it too lame of him to admit he wants to be accompanied by someone else rather than the actors featured in the movies he watches?

The only problem is that Bucky doesn’t really have the energy for all of that, because it means having a level of socializing that he just doesn’t have. He tried online dating for a while, and although it did help him find a few casual hook ups here and there, he eventually got bored of it. Going to a bar all by himself is not an option either because it only makes him feel like a creep. And there’s absolutely no way he’ll ask Sam or Joaquín to join him, because he knows the consequences of that.

But he just found a literal goldmine tonight.

Usually, he doesn't pay any attention to the ads that pop up in the porn sites he regularly visits, but this time one of them piqued his interest when he read the large banner with neon red letters: FEELING LONELY? LET A SEXY CAMGIRL CHANGE YOUR LIFE NOW!

It's as if the universe is answering all of his prayers. A girl live streaming herself for the viewers' pleasure? Now, that's something that might interest him. The spontaneity of it all. The fact that someone is right there at the same time with him, even if it's through the camera. It might help provide what he's looking for with barely any effort from his part. And if it doesn’t help, at least he gave it a try.

He signs up to the website almost immediately, looking through the profiles of the girls that were streaming at the time. That's when he found you.

First thing that catches his eye is your profile photo. You, looking back at him with sinful eyes, wearing a baby pink lingerie set. Unlucky for him, he's unable to make much of your face, hidden behind a white bunny mask that prevents him from knowing what you actually look like aside from your body.

But he doesn’t really need to know how you look to already feel like he knows you. The answer to all of his prayers. He was meant to see this ad tonight and find you. The unbelievably hot girl with the bunny mask.

Without thinking twice, he paid for the required subscription to your profile in order to have access to all of your content– a private gallery filled with photos of you and the privilege to access your streams with zero restrictions.

He clicks on the icon with the little camera that has a red light on it, entering your livestream. There's quite a few people watching, some leaving comments on a live chat or sending you various donations.

Bucky's practically unable to take his eyes off you. You’re wearing the bunny mask you were also wearing in that photo, currently posing for the camera as you show off a new dress you bought a few days ago, making sure to show your ass to the camera, leaning just enough to show your lace underwear.

You've got to be the hottest woman he has ever seen, from the way you carry yourself on camera, to the way you're able to keep the audience engaged with your captivating personality– not to mention he finds your body incredibly attractive too. And your voice...holy shit. Your sweet and angelic voice is enough on its own to make him painfully hard already.

The stream continues. Bucky watches as you take a seat on your pink desk chair, adjusting the camera to a good angle before you start removing your dress, leaving you in just your underwear.

“Oh, you like my panties? Thank you so much,” you read a comment out loud, smirking playfully as you show them off. “I'm sure none of you will be sad when I take them off, though.”

Bucky can't help it– you're so hot, it's like he's incapable of physically handling it. He hears you read a few more comments while he quickly works to get rid of his pants and boxers, leaning back on his bed again as he keeps his eyes glued to his laptop.

His hand wraps around his cock just as you begin trailing your hands down your body, almost taunting the viewers because they have no way of touching you right now. It's like you're a goddess, fully aware that you deserve to be worshipped. And if that’s the case, he's completely devoted to you and you alone.

Before he knows it, you’re removing your bra for the audience. He’s seeing your naked tits for the first time and he's absolutely in love with them already. The thought of being able to hold them in his hands before putting one inside his mouth is just...fuck, it makes him moan out loud as he continues to stroke himself.

He keeps watching, barely keeping it together when you finally take your panties off, casually lifting one leg so it rests on the armrest of the chair, properly exposing yourself to the camera.

Bucky's mouth practically salivates at the sight of your wet pussy fully on display for him. It’s a mystery how he doesn’t come as soon as he’s hearing you moan for the very first time when your fingers start circling around your clit. It's heaven. You are his heaven. Everything he's been looking for and more.

He spends his Friday night watching you make yourself come with your fingers and a few sex toys, moaning over and over. Watching you orgasm has got to be his new favorite thing in the entire world. Needless to say, he came in his hand until he just didn't have anymore in him to give. It's all for you. Every last drop is for you and you only. His goddess. His heaven. His prayer.

You really are changing his life already.

From that day forward, he never once missed any of your streams. Lucky for him you're consistent with it, showing up from time to time to entertain your viewers. Sometimes you're sitting in your pink chair, others you're relaxing in bed. One time you were in your bathtub.

He loves all of it. All of you. He can't believe he has met someone as perfect as you. As lame as it might be, you’re probably the person he interacts with the most these days…even when you don’t even know he exists. It’s starting to feel as if you're someone he knows in real life.

Well, perhaps you do have some idea of who he is, because a few comments here and there on your live chat might've slipped from his side, eager to catch your attention. He was incredibly pleased when you read some of them out loud, practically addressing him personally. But that’s all the communication he’s had with you.

But then...another treasure. It happened when you were ending one of your lives.

"I know some of you will get very excited with this news," you started, smiling at the camera. "I'm booking a few private calls, in case you're looking for a fun time just the two of us." Your voice is suggestive, but also incredibly sweet. Music to his ears. "You better hurry if you want to get one!"

This is the perfect opportunity to get closer to you. It's great! He can't wait to have a one-on-one interaction with you. The streams are great, of course, but to have the chance to be only you and him…that’s something he's willing to do whatever to get it.

All he needed to do was pay a few extra dollars and submit minimal information about which options of the ones you were offering in your profile fitted his schedule better to have this private session with you with absolutely no distractions. He was able to successfully book his session for next week. Sunday at midnight. From that day forward, it's practically all he could think about.

You're not particularly thrilled to do these private sessions with random men that were subscribed to you, because most of them are a bit (a lot) creepy. Hopefully this time at least one of your bookings is a woman, since they're way more fun to talk to. But still, even when you don’t like the idea that much, you need the extra money and the quickest way to get it are those private conversations.

Just as you predicted, most of the guys that paid for those sessions are middle-aged creeps who just wanted to watch you touch yourself while they watched in silence. Not a single attempt at making some conversation before you get to it. Not one of them asks about how you're doing, or even takes the time to say goodbye to you. Granted, they pay for the sexual content...but a simple 'thank you, have a good night' wouldn't hurt anybody!

This particular day, you only have one session booked at midnight, so you decide to take a few pictures of you before you have to log in, posing at the edge of your bed with your lingerie set. Since you still have half an hour left, you entertain yourself by selecting the exact pictures from your improvised photoshoot that you would like to post tomorrow to keep your profile as active as possible.

Exactly at midnight, you get the notification that your client is already connected and waiting for you. Sitting comfortably on your chair, you fix your hair and your bunny mask before logging in as well, silently hoping that it's a woman this time...

You're met with nothing. Whoever's on the other side of the call has both their camera and microphone off. This is not a good sign. Definitely not a woman or a half-decent guy.

Still, you act like nothing's wrong, smiling up at the camera. “Hello!” you greet cheerfully. A few seconds pass, until you see a message on the chat. Oh my fucking God. They're asking if they have to turn their mic and camera on. “Yeah, I mean...that way I can see and hear you. Of course you don't have to if you don't want to,” you reply, feeling more and more unease about whoever is on the other side of the screen. “I personally think it's more fun that way...but it's completely up to you!”

On the other side, Bucky is absolutely freaking out. He didn’t fully register in his brain that you would expect to see and hear him too! Of course he should've seen that coming. What is the point of having a one-on-one call with someone if you can’t see the other person? How did he completely forget about that little detail?

His apartment is a complete mess, his bed is unmade...shit. You'll think he's some kind of caveman with the way his clothes are scattered around the floor and his sheets are all over the place.

Panicking, he runs outside his room to the living room, knowing that place is a bit more tidy. He throws a few empty beer cans and an empty pizza box from last night to the floor to make room for his laptop on the coffee table. His heart is racing, still hesitating, but he doesn't want to keep you waiting any longer.

He turns his mic and camera on, mortified to see himself on a small rectangle on the left upper corner of his screen. The only thing that gives him some sort of comfort is the smile you offer him when you're finally able to see him.

“Now, that's a lot better!” you comment with a playful giggle. What a sight. He might be a complete weirdo, but holy fuck does his muscles look good with that shirt! And the way he runs his fingers through his hair in order to push it out of his face...

For the sake of professionalism, you decide to leave it at that.

You’re about to talk, but he beats you to it. “I'm so sorry I kept you waiting. I should've known you were supposed to see me as well,” he offers with an apologetic smile, looking genuinely ashamed of that little incident.

Fuck, his voice. “It's okay, no need to worry. I'm assuming this is your first time ever chatting with a camgirl like this then?”

“Uh...it's– well, yeah,” he stutters, feeling embarrassed to reveal his inexperience when it comes to this whole thing. “I found the website like two months ago. I saw your profile and...well, here we are.”

“Here we are,” you repeat with a smile, thinking his awkwardness is somehow endearing. “Well, you paid for this session, so I'm entirely yours for an hour. We'll do whatever you want to do.”

Your comment certainly gets to him, mind flooding with images of what exactly he would do to you if you were here on his couch with him right now. He would spend more than an hour trying to give you exactly what a goddess like you deserves. But as he thinks about voicing any of it, he can't bring himself to it, feeling way too vulnerable now that you can see him. It's just way too personal now. He enjoys it, but it's also incredibly intimidating.

He would really like to have you moaning just for him for an entire hour, but he still wants to be respectful. It doesn't feel right to him to just jump straight into it. It doesn’t feel right to give you instructions based on his own preferences either.

Perhaps he's not made for this.

“Can’t we just...talk a little bit first?”

You’re a bit surprised by this outcome, but you try not to let it show, continuing the interaction as normal instead. “Sure. What do you want to talk about?”

Bucky shrugs. “Anything, really. How are you?”

He wants to punch himself in the face. How are you? Really? It feels like he's just digging himself an even bigger hole with each word that comes out of his mouth. At least you don't look like you're thinking his question was the most pathetic thing you've heard in your life– he knows for a fact that you’re definitely thinking it, but at least you’re kind enough to hide it.

“I'm alright. I went out for lunch today with a few of my friends.” Taking a brief pause, you notice he doesn’t have much to say, so you decide to continue in hopes to make him feel less nervous. “We're doing this thing where we try a new restaurant every now and then like we're food critics,” it’s all you add, because you’re not really sure how far he's willing to listen to you before he's asking you to take your clothes off.

“That sounds fun. How was it?” he asks, sounding genuinely interested. That rarely ever happens in these private sessions. “What was the final rating?”

“Well, we all agreed that the food is good but a bit expensive. Location is very good too but the place lacked decor and identity. It was overall a seven out of ten.”

“Wow, you really are invested in this.”

His comment makes you laugh. A genuine laugh. “It's becoming a hobby of mine, I think.”

“It's a nice hobby. I can't remember the last time I tried going to a new place to get food. I always visit the same three places.”

“Well, that's good too. It means you're more of a habit kind of guy. Besides, if the food's good, why venture out to other places?”

“Yeah...thing is, I just prefer them for the prices.” He makes you laugh again, which immediately makes him smile. What an achievement it is to make you laugh twice already. “Is it okay if I ask another question?”

“Of course.”

“Why the bunny mask? I mean, I get that you might need it to avoid creeps knowing what you look like, but...is there any meaning behind it?”

For a moment, you genuinely forgot about the mask. The conversation and overall vibe of him is so comforting, it feels like you're just facetiming with a friend. “There's really not much meaning behind it. I just found it at a sex shop and it looked cute so I bought it. It was this or just a regular lace one.”

“I think the other one would've looked good on you too,” he comments, already starting to feel a bit more comfortable. “I mean…I doubt anything would ever look bad on you.”

“Thank you. Aren't you a sweetheart?” you reply with a smirk, voice starting to get slightly more seductive now, sensing he’s easing into it. “Is it okay if I ask you a question now?”

He gets slightly nervous, not sure of what you might ask. He tries to play it cool to avoid looking like a fool again, the image of his mortified face appearing on the screen when he first turned the camera on still haunting him. “Sure.”

“Why did you end up on the website?”

The question stuns him for a minute, thinking about his answer for a bit before clearing his throat. “Uh, to be completely honest...porn just wasn't doing it for me anymore,” he says, feeling incredibly embarrassed once again, but trying to ignore it for the sake of the conversation. “I wanted to explore something new.”

“I see...and what drew you to my profile?”

Bucky smiles shyly, which you think it's the cutest thing ever. “You said ‘a question’,” he points out, making emphasis on the fact that it was supposed to be just one.

“Oh, don't be like that,” you reply with a pout, knowing you'd get your answer anyway. “I'm just curious, that’s all. I wonder what made you want to pay for the privilege of watching me.”

You can tell your words are starting to get to him, judging by the slight shift in his body language. The way his jaw slightly clenches, spreading his legs just enough for you to notice, the nervous fidgeting of his hands...he's trying to keep it together. It's fun, in a way. To see just how much you need to push in order to watch him break.

“I really liked your photo.”

“Yeah? What did you like so much about it?” you push further, eager to see him break and fully relax into this experience. “I can't imagine it was just the bunny mask…”

He can feel himself losing it already. He's getting hard and you've barely even done anything yet. Like any other desperate freak who watches your streams– although, perhaps that's all he really is. A massive freak who enjoys paying to watch a girl touch herself in real time while he masturbates to it.

“You look very hot in it,” he offers, which makes you smirk wider. “And your tits look phenomenal.”

You giggle at the compliment. “They're gorgeous, aren't they?” you ask almost immediately, cupping them with your hands as you begin to gently massage them, noticing the way his eyes darken at the sight of it. “Would you like to see them?”

Silence. He can feel his cock practically twitching inside his trousers. “Yes.”

“Manners, James,” you remind him, and he looks surprised because he wasn’t exactly sure if you even know his name.

He allows himself to breathe, feeling almost frustrated by how turned on he is right now. “Y-Yes, please. I'd really like to see them.”

“Now, that’s much better.”

Pleased with his words, you begin to slowly remove your bra from your body, making sure to take your time with it to make him feel even more desperate for it. You could see it in his face. The way he's becoming more and more impatient as you slide the straps down your arms, making sure the bra stays in place in your chest before completely removing it.

He can't help himself anymore, having to adjust his pants in an effort to make room for his cock inside his clothes. It's practically impossible to ignore the bulge in his pants, immediately making you wonder how he might look with absolutely nothing on his body. The idea already makes your head spin.

“So pretty…” you hear him mutter under his breath as he watches you play with them for his entertainment. “Such gorgeous tits.”

His words make you let out a soft moan, encouraged by his undivided attention to everything that you're doing. As soon as he hears it, his cock is twitching again inside his pants, making him almost grit his teeth because it's just too much. You're too much.

“I can tell you really like them,” you comment playfully, hinting at the massive erection inside his pants. “Why don't you relieve yourself? I bet you're dying to.”

His heart beats fast against his chest, uncertainty invading him momentarily once again. “Can I?”

You can't help but think how adorable he is, even under these circumstances. “Yeah. I want to see what it is that you do to yourself every time you watch me.”

Bucky practically groans at your words, immediately trying to get rid of his pants and boxers before sitting back down on the couch. You watch him, cock hard and thick it almost makes you salivate. It's perfect. Oh, the amount of fun you'd have with him inside your mouth...

The thought alone is making you clench around nothing, also starting to become a bit desperate for this to continue. Still playing with your breasts, another soft moan escapes you when he begins to eagerly stroke himself.

In other circumstances, he would probably be very embarrassed to masturbate in front of someone he barely even knows, but you make him feel oddly comfortable. That, and he's also incredibly turned on. He couldn't possibly wait any longer without proving himself some sort of relief.

Your eyes focus on his hand, moving up and down his thick cock, a series of soft grunts and moans escaping his lips. It's a mesmerizing sight.

“Can you...would you please touch yourself too?” His voice is absolutely desperate, eager to see more of your body.

An innocent smile appears on your face, a hand slowly trailing down your stomach to the edge of your panties. “How can I say no to you when you ask so nicely?” you reply in a playful voice, your hand sneaking underneath your underwear to finally be able to alleviate some of the pent up desire that’s been accumulating in your body.

Bucky moans even louder now, watching you spread your legs, head resting back on the chair as you enjoy the sensation of your fingers rubbing lazy circles over your clit.

“Take them off,” he says, not once stopping to masturbate in front of you. “I need to see.”

You're way too turned on at this point, doing exactly as he says without a playful remark or slow, teasing movements. You stand up from your chair, turning around and making sure that your ass is at the centre of the image as you slide your panties down your legs, hearing Bucky's appreciation in the form of another deep groan.

Taking a seat on the chair again, you waste no time before your hand is in between your legs again. You notice Bucky's hand starts to move faster at the sight of you completely naked for him and him alone. “Fuck, I wish you were here with me tonight…” you hear him mutter under his breath.

“What would you do to me?” you ask immediately, eager to hear him explain exactly what it is he'd do to you if you were sitting next him on that couch.

“I'd put my hands all over your gorgeous body...worship you the way you deserve,” he starts, making you moan out loud as you also begin to imagine what it'd be like to be able to feel his touch. “Play with that sweet pussy until she's nice and ready for my cock...fuck, I'd stay up all night with you...make sure you're satisfied.”

The situation is probably getting a little out of hand, noticing how all your sense of professionalism starts to disappear when he talks like that to you. You almost forget he's a client. That he paid for just an hour of your time and that's it. That you're evidently allowed to enjoy yourself while you work, but always remembering it's just a job. You won't be talking like this again because you have other bookings next week and he needs to pay again for this privilege.

But how could you possibly control yourself when this hot guy is moaning for you while he masturbates on camera, claiming he's willing to spend the entire night fucking you? And how is this the same guy who was barely able to talk to you when the call first started? It’s like you didn’t even notice when he went from the shy, never-done-this kind of guy, to an absolute menace who’s able to talk like that.

His words echo in your head, creating a sinful image in your thoughts that encourage you to slide your fingers inside of you, desperately craving your high. “Fuck, James…” you let out, which makes him completely lose it.

“God, I'd have you scream that over and over...make everyone knows how good I'd fuck you.”

“I bet you'd fuck me nice and hard, huh? Just the way I deserve...you'd do exactly as I please, wouldn't you?”

“Yes...yes, anything you want. I'd treat you like a queen.”

You keep moaning, fingers rubbing fast circles on top of your clit again, feeling like you're getting closer to your orgasm. It's clear to you he's almost there too, breathing slightly ragged and brows furrowing just enough in deep pleasure.

It’s the hottest thing ever. You watch as his legs tremble, a deep moan escaping him as ropes of semen spill out of his cock. He looks like the orgasm is painfully satisfying, consuming him entirely as he throws his head back. The sight alone is enough to make you reach your high too, your entire body shuddering with the waves of pleasure that overtake you.

Then, his eyes focus back on the image of you on his laptop, watching you catch your breath as you adjust your position on your chair again.

“Who knew you'd have such a filthy mouth, James,” you comment jokingly, which makes him chuckle.

“Couldn't help it,” he replies with a light shrug, just then realizing the mess he made around his coffee table. “I, uh...shit, I should probably clean up.”

You can't help but giggle. It's a shame it's time to probably have to say goodbye to him.

“Yeah, I'll probably take a shower before going to bed.”

“Wish I could join you.”

His voice sounds way too soft now, nothing like what it sounded like when he was talking about fucking you all night. “You're cute– incredibly hot, of course, but also very cute.”

He smiles shyly. “Thanks.”

There's a brief pause before you clear your throat. “Well, the hour's up so...we'll have to get going.”

“Oh. Yeah, sure...sure,” Bucky nods, evidently disappointed. “Could I– is it okay if I ask you something?”

He makes you smile again. “Of course.”

“Did you...did you enjoy that? Like, genuinely enjoy that?”

You probably shouldn't answer. It gives you the impression that he's also forgetting this is strictly a one-time thing unless he decides to pay for more. It's a service. You're a camgirl. Not his friend or his girlfriend. Not someone who will be available for him whenever he needs it.

But you couldn't help yourself. “I really did.”

Luckily, he doesn't push any further than that, seemingly pleased with that answer. “Okay. I really enjoyed it too…” he says shortly after, sounding just as awkward as he did at the beginning of the session. “I, uh...hope you have a good night's sleep.”

“You too.”

“And good luck with your future restaurant reviews.”

You giggle, slightly shaking your head. He really is way too cute. “Thank you.”

“Bye.”

Then, the image of you on his laptop disappears. He immediately feels alone once again, debating if this idea of subscribing to a camgirl and getting private calls with her was even a good idea in the first place. Perhaps it'll make him feel worse in the end, especially because he didn’t expect to like you so much.

How is he supposed not to grow any sort of attachment to you? Not only are you smoking hot, but also funny and nice to talk to. Is he really this pathetic that he immediately starts to feel a certain way for a random girl he pays to watch on the internet?Feeling frustrated and confused, he decides to clean up the mess he made and get a quick shower before (hopefully) going to sleep– if he manages to get you out of his mind.

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

As soon as you wake up that morning, James is all that you can think about. The memory of him orgasming in front of you will probably be engraved in your brain all day. And it wasn't just the sexual aspect of it...he’s genuinely pleasant to talk to.

Of course you've had clients that you get along with just fine, managing to have a nice conversation before having a bit of fun together. You've had those kinds of interactions with other men and women before. And you have genuinely enjoyed those interactions with those people. But there's just something about him. You feel almost insane for thinking this way, but it's true.

There's just something about James that you can't quite get over.

But the worst thing you can do is to allow yourself to develop a stupid crush on one of your clients, because that's just a recipe for disaster. You're fully aware he pays for a bit of company and you enjoy receiving the money for providing that sort of companionship to someone else online. That's all it is. This is not an online dating situation. You have other clients and he's probably subscribed to other camgirls.

You walked inside your kitchen as you debated what to eat for breakfast. You opt for a bowl of cereal because it’ll be a quick meal to have before getting ready for the day ahead, knowing you have a lot to do– from paying a visit to your mom at lunch to heading over to your campus for your afternoon lectures.

As you open the fridge, you realize you're out of milk. Frustrated, you close the fridge and go back to your room to put a pair of shoes on before grabbing your keys for a quick visit to the store that's just around the corner of your street.

You open the door of your apartment, barely able to catch a glimpse of the tiny white animal running inside your apartment. Evidently confused, you look back inside your place, eyes meeting the ones of a small kitten that casually sits on your couch, letting out a soft meow.

Careful not to spook the cat, you walk towards it, hoping it doesn't try to scratch you in the process. Luckily, the animal seems calm enough, not reacting much when you hold it in your arms to take it out of the apartment.

Before you could even begin to wonder where the cat might’ve come from, you notice the door of your neighbor is wide open.

“Alpine!” you hear someone yell from inside, sounding quite worried. Judging by the groceries left on the floor, you can only guess that your neighbor was returning from a trip to the store and their cat took that as the perfect opportunity to venture outside the apartment.

The neighbor rushes outside with a worried, yet slightly annoyed look on his face, which makes you think this isn’t the first time this has happened. In all the (approximately) seven months since you moved into this apartment, you've never met this neighbor. You were aware that someone lived there, but that's about it. You didn't know anything about them because they just don't go out that much, apparently.

“Ah, there she is!” he exclaims with obvious relief as soon as his eyes settle on you and the cat, walking towards the two of you. “It's like she enjoys finding opportunities to sneak out.”

You freeze when you realize what is going on. The face, the hair, the voice...this has to be some kind of joke. This really can't be happening. There's no fucking way that this is genuinely happening.

You watched this man come all over his hand last night!

Standing completely, you simply watch as he retrieves the animal from your hands, taking note of how he scratches her little head as soon as he’s holding her.

“Thank you for catching her,” he says shortly after, turning to look at you now.

Still unable to say anything, you stare back at him in complete disbelief. For a moment you fear that he might've recognized you, but soon enough you realize he actually didn't. The bunny mask certainly works to keep your identity hidden. Besides, you're wearing a large hoodie and a pair of leggings, which is an outfit that drastically differs from sexy lingerie. And he's looking at you in bright daylight, not the LED lights you have in your bedroom as the only source of light.

Knowing you're probably making a fool of yourself, you offer him an awkward smile. “No problem,” you say rather hurriedly, immediately making your way towards the elevator.

From the elevator to the store and then from the store to your apartment, you're unable to stop thinking how incredibly ridiculous this situation is. What are the odds that he would be your neighbor? It's not like he lives in the same city, street, or even the same building– he's your fucking neighbor.

Your neighbor is one of your subscribers. Last night you had a private session with your neighbor. You touched yourself in front of your neighbor and you watched him masturbate on camera. All of that going on and it turns out he lives across the hall from you!

After that encounter, you prayed and hoped to never meet him again outside your apartment. Lucky for you, it's been three days since the incident and you haven't seen him.

The idea of him living right there barely leaves your head. The whole thing is insane. It’s so crazy, in fact, that you just have to share the whole story to your group of friends when all of you reunite to have a couple of drinks at your place.

“Alright, alright. Let's address the most important question here,” one of your friends says after you’re done explaining your current dilemma, looking right at you. “Is he hot?”

“That's the problem. He's the hottest guy I've ever seen in my life!”

“Bitch, you better go to his apartment right now to tell him what is going on!” another one of them exclaims between laughter.

“Yeah. I mean, how is it possible that you still haven't fucked this man? Physically, I mean.”

“I'm not gonna go to his apartment and tell him I'm one of the camgirls he's subscribed to! That's so weird,” you immediately refuse that idea entirely. “Not to mention that it's completely unprofessional.”

All of your friends look at you like you just personally insulted all of them.

“Oh, sure. Right. I'm sure he'll be soooo upset to find out you live right across from him.”

None of them could understand how you're missing out on the opportunity to fuck your hot neighbors (who, clearly, would absolutely have sex with you), but they eventually decide to let you be, still silently hoping you’d come to your senses soon enough and just go for it.

Perhaps they don't fully grasp how dangerous it is to get involved with him. If you can't stop thinking about him now, it'll be even worse if you have sex with him. Maybe you would’ve already knocked on his door already if you were completely certain that he’ll be nothing more than a hot neighbor you occasionally hook up with, but there’s a part of you that fears it’ll get out of hand. The mere risk of exposing yourself to even the tiniest of possibilities of developing feelings for someone is completely out of the equation. Nope. You won't allow that to happen.

Your friends left around two in the morning, and even when you didn't plan on making a stream today, you’re so drunk that you decided to do one. You’ve done drunk streams before and they're always super fun.

Deciding to post a quick photo to your page to announce you’ll be streaming in a few minutes, you get the LED lights and your bunny mask ready before starting the livestream, waiting for people to start joining. “Hi everyone,” you greet the ones already logged in. “This is more of a casual type of stream...perhaps a shorter one too. I don't know. I didn’t plan it, to be honest. I'm just drunk and horny,” you ramble, letting out a soft giggle.

'Love the dress' someone commented.

“Oh, you like it?” you ask, standing up before starting to pose for the camera, showing off your floral dress to your viewers, making sure to lift it up just enough to reveal you're not wearing any panties at the moment, removing them before starting the stream. “I might keep it on tonight because I think I look really cute in it...I don't know, what do you guys think?”

Most people in the chat agreed with you, but of course some people wanted you to take it off as well. Then, you see him. You remember James' username perfectly.

'Keep it. You look so beautiful.'

You hate how his compliment makes you feel. Happy, excited, nervous. And it has so much power over you too, because that's all you need to fully decide that you'll keep it on.

The stream continues. You interact a bit more with the chat before disappearing from view to grab one of your sex toys. A vibrating purple dildo.

“I don't really know why I'm so horny today,” you admit casually to the audience, taking a seat. You look straight into the camera, taking the dildo into your mouth as if you were giving someone a blowjob, which almost immediately earns you a few extra donations. “I guess I always get super horny when I'm drunk.”

You take a few extra minutes to use your mouth to play with the head of the dildo, wanting to give the audience a show, your available hand sneaking underneath your dress to touch yourself while you do it.

The dildo starts vibrating in your hand as you press it to your aching clit, leaning back to enjoy the pleasure it provides. You look at yourself in the camera, making sure your pussy is on full display for your viewers.

There's a ton of praise in the chat, which only encourages you to continue, enjoying the attention you receive. You can't help but focus on another message from James. 'You look so hot right now'. You could hear his voice in your head as you read it, which only fuels your desire to keep pleasuring yourself.

After stimulating your clit for a while, you press the dildo against your entrance, starting to fuck yourself with it. You were sloppy with it, desperate to reach your orgasm. And as embarrassing as it is to admit, there’s only one person in your mind while you keep playing with yourself. The dildo slides in and out of you, making you moan and squirm in your seat, and all you can imagine is James on top of you, thrusting in and out of you at the perfect pace to make your eyes roll to the back of your head. You picture his hands on your body and the breathless praise that would come out of his mouth while he fucks you just like he promised he would if he ever got the chance– fuck you like the queen you are.

Needless to say, your orgasm (and the second one that followed right after) were out of this world. All thanks to James. Satisfied enough, you end the livestream to finally go to bed.

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

It's been about two weeks since you found out about the hot neighbor, and luckily you guys haven't run into each other again. That has helped a lot to get over the initial shock of knowing he lives right across the hall. That, paired with the minimal communication on your streams, has helped to slowly get him out of your mind.

And that's because Bucky knows better than to behave in full stalker mode with you. He keeps the interactions minimal because he doesn't want to seem like a creep, but deep down he knows he's absolutely doomed.

He's infatuated with you. He gets excited when he notices you're streaming, and it's impossible to watch any other camgirl that aren't you. No one compares to you. No one is as magnetic and beautiful as you. But he knows he's meant to keep his distance, because at the end of the day you're a woman doing her job online and he's just a random loser who pays for your content. That's all it'll ever be.

He can't resist himself, however, when he looks through your page and realizes that there's still a chance to book a private session with you.

As soon as you notice his booking, you're met with the inevitable debate of whether or not you should say something. Sure, you could just stay quiet and keep receiving his attention (and money) completely anonymously, occasionally waving at him in the hallway until he eventually puts two and two together about who you really are.

Is it better to go over to his apartment and formally introduce yourself, or just let him figure it out on his own? 'Hi, James, so this is crazy! But it's me! the camgirl!' or 'Holy fuck wait a minute you're the camgirl! And you never told me!'

Or...moving to another apartment?

As much as you'd like to pack all of your things and get the hell out of this building, you know realistically speaking there's only two options: come clean about your identity or play dumb.

So there you stand, staring at your front door like an idiot for what feels like ages before you eventually make your choice. Fuck it! He'll find out sooner or later because he's your freaking neighbor, and it'll be painfully awkward either way! At least hearing it from you right away is slightly less awkward.

Knocking on his door, you stand right outside his apartment, nervously playing with your fingers as you keep debating if this is even a good idea. Perhaps the only option has always been moving out. And why if he just never figures it out? Is this a bad idea? Should you go back into your apartment and just play dumb?

But then he opens the door. Fuck.

He offers you the type of smile someone offers to a neighbor they barely know. Not the one you give to a girl who watched you masturbate through a camera. “Hi...is there–?”

“I need to talk to you.” The words come out of your mouth without really thinking. “Sorry, didn't mean to interrupt you.”

He shrugs nonchalantly, looking extremely confused. “What is it?”

“Seriously?” Are all men this dumb? It's all you can think about as you stare back at him in disbelief. “Don't you recognize my voice?”

Again, the same confused expression on his face, but this time you can sense some sort of curiosity. Perhaps his brain is starting to have the tiniest of suspicions, or at the very least he's realizing your voice does sound familiar.

Then, you raise your hands to your head, gesturing for him to imagine two ears on top of it. “Bunny ears…”

It’s like he goes through a million emotions in a matter of seconds. Extreme confusion, realization, shock, extreme shock, disbelief, shock again, embarrassment, confusion and shock and embarrassment. He just can’t believe you’re actually standing in front of him. That he saw you a few weeks back and had absolutely no idea it was you.

“Yes, exactly,” is all you say, finding his reaction entirely appropriate because this truly is mind-blowing.

“I– you–” he attempts to speak, completely in shock still. “You live here?”

“Uh, across the hall, yeah.” Noticing he's probably just going to blurt things out that barely make any sense or just stare at you in silence, you decide to take the lead. “I was debating whether or not to say anything after that time we saw each other. I swear I had no idea that we were neighbors before...well, you know.”

Despite how awkward the situation is, you can’t deny you're enjoying the way he blushes when you hint at that night. It's actually a bit unfair that he manages to be this attractive even under such awkward circumstances.

“That's why your face seemed so familiar...I just guessed it was because you live across from me and maybe I just saw you around,” he mutters, still beyond mortified and feeling very much stupid for not figuring it out then.

“I noticed you booked another session so...I don't know. It felt wrong not saying anything and pretending like I don't know you're literally across the hall from me.”

“Oh…” He didn’t even remember the session.

He looks incredibly embarrassed now, which makes you feel guilty. Perhaps you should’ve approached this in a different way? “Listen, I could just give you a refund on that and–”

“Can we talk about that some other time, maybe?”

“Sure, okay. I'm sorry.”

Bucky looks (and feels) extremely uncomfortable, but his expression softens when you say that. “Why? You don’t have to apologize.”

“I don't know, I feel like I do. Maybe I should've said something sooner.”

“No, it's okay,” he quickly brushes it off, not wanting you to feel like you had any sort of responsibility for what he feels towards this information. If he figured it out when Alpine ran from his apartment, he probably would’ve had the same reaction. “You did nothing wrong. It's just the entire situation that is...well, insane.”

“I've genuinely considered moving out to avoid this conversation,” you reply, sharing the sentiment regarding how crazy this whole thing is.

Bucky stays quiet, letting out a soft chuckle. “Really?”

“Yes, really! I feel as embarrassed as you do about this. Trust me.”

“Well, as embarrassing as it is, I really appreciate you telling me. I wouldn't have figured it out on my own, apparently.”

His last comment makes you laugh. “Yeah, I still can't believe you didn't recognize me!”

“The bunny mask.”

Yes, the bunny mask. He says it like it's nothing, but you notice the slight shift in his voice– the mention of the mask immediately makes him think of you wearing it on your streams. In that profile photo he says he likes so much. You can see it in his face. He's thinking about it.

So really, it's his fault that you feel the urge to flirt with him now. “And the fact that you tend to see me with less clothes on, maybe.”

Your comment has the expected effect on him. A grin appears on his face. Seems like the initial shock is wearing down. “Maybe that too.”

You smile back at him, both of you standing in complete silence as you just look back at each other. And oh, you look at him. His gorgeous blue eyes, the way his hair falls perfectly around his face, his lips, that fucking black t-shirt that's just way too tight on him...

Despite the intense urge you have of kissing him and ripping his clothes off, you try to keep it together and avoid making any stupid decision that you might regret in the future. It doesn't help that he's also looking at you like he wants to slam you against the wall and make out with you, but you're a strong woman that knows better than to act impulsively.

So, you decide to break the silence to spare both of you from the unbearably intense sexual tension that surrounds you.

“Well, I won't take more of your time. Have a good night.”

“Goodnight.”

You notice he doesn't close his door until you're closing yours.

Already inside your apartment, you let out all the air you've been holding, feeling your entire being practically burning. You’ve never felt that kind of tension with anyone in your life before. The type of attraction that just keeps pulling you in and it’s almost impossible to fight against.

It's really not fair that your neighbor is so fucking hot and you have to hold back from making a move. Well, it's not like you have to hold back...

Maybe just one time?

As you're debating whether or not is a good idea to fuck your neighbor, you hear a knock on your door.

It's him. You know it's him even before you open the door and see him standing there, looking like he's having a similar debate in his head. Although he seems to have made a decision already, because otherwise he wouldn't be at your door right now.

Fuck it, just one time.

You pull him inside your apartment and he immediately understands what it means because he hurriedly closes the door behind him before cornering you to the wall, trapping you between the cold surface and his body.

He kisses you with such hunger that it makes your head spin. It's intense, messy, and needy. Strong hands roaming all over your body like he can't wait to explore all of you. His tongue traces yours, intending to swallow every little sound that comes out of your mouth.

The low grunt that escapes him when you pull his hair has you moaning in response because, again, it's so not fair that he's so incredibly hot! You feel one of his hands trailing hurriedly down your side, cold metal fingers digging in the skin of your thigh as he urges one of your legs up, securing it to his waist with an iron grip.

The two of you continue to make out like life practically depends on it, trying to satiate the mutual hunger that's been there ever since that day he decided to pay for that private chat with you. Looking back, best fucking decision he has ever made.

He keeps grinding his hips forward, eager for whatever fiction he can get while he keeps you trapped against the wall. His lips leave yours to trace sloppy kisses from your jaw to your collarbone, encouraged by the way your body moves against his own whenever he presses his hips to yours.

“You have no idea…” he starts in between kisses, “how bad I've been wanting to touch you…” You reply with a soft moan when you feel his teeth grazing your skin. “How much I wanted to feel you…”

“Me too…” you admit in a whisper. A confession that seems to surprise him enough to pull back to look at you.

Bucky notices your hair is a bit messy from the heavy makeout, fixing a few strands of it around your face with his available hand. "Did you?" he asks, voice slightly softer, but it sharply contrasts with the way he places his hand at the side of your neck, thumb tracing a delicate line down your throat.

You nod at his question, looking back into his eyes. You can't help but feel incredibly vulnerable under his analyzing gaze. It's way too intimate, in a way that you can't quite handle.

So, in an effort to distract yourself, your fingers find the end of his shirt, lifting it up just enough for him to understand what you want. The second he's throwing his shirt to the floor, you just couldn't believe the sight before you. Not like that shirt left much to the imagination, but actually seeing his massive arms and defined abs in all its glory is certainly...a sight you'll remember for sure.

He's pressing his body to yours again, lifting your chin up to kiss you. This time is slower, more sensual, but still incredibly intense. It's starting to feel a little too intimate for you again, bringing that uncomfortable but pleasant sensation back, but this time you allow yourself to experience it. No matter how much your rational side is ringing alarm bells in your head, urging you to put a stop to this because you know this guy will be your downfall. You really shouldn’t be doing this.

But how could you possibly resist him? When he’s so hot and cute and treats you like he doesn’t need anything else in this world but being close to you. When he kisses you like he’s been desperate for a taste of you and touches your body like he wants to memorize all of it. It’s just not fair.

After standing by the front door of your apartment for what felt like forever, you finally create some distance between the two of you to grab his hand, guiding him to your bedroom. Of course he didn't argue one bit, immediately following after you.

In there, he can't help but focus on your desk, the familiar pink chair in which he usually sees you sitting for the streams. It was a bit weird to finally be standing in that very same room. But he doesn't have much time to think about that, because you're making him sit down on your bed, all his attention fully back on you now.

You waste no time at all, removing the hoodie you're wearing, exposing more of your body to his hungry gaze. For a second he thought he might be dreaming. The very same woman that's been on his mind (and screen) for months is currently standing in front of him, her gorgeous tits he adores so much on full display for him.

As you move closer to the bed, his hands are immediately on you, traveling from your hips to your sides before moving them to your back, sliding down your spine before repeating the pattern. He simply admires you for now, taking in the sight of you half naked in front of him.

“You're so beautiful,” he comments, looking up at you as he speaks, like you’re someone worthy of worshipping.

And then, he pulls you into his lap in a swift and demanding move, hands immediately finding their way to your chest. You barely have time to enjoy the way his fingers feel as he plays with your breasts before he's using his mouth too.

A moan escapes you, watching as he uses his mouth and hands to provide some much needed attention to your body. It's like he's completely hypnotized. His tongue swirls around one of your nipples before sucking hard around it– hard enough, until you're letting out a high-pitched moan that leaves him satisfied, releasing it to then switch to the other.

Your back arches forward, reacting positively to every touch of his fingers, every flick of his tongue, and every moan that crashes against your sensitive skin. That, matched with the sight of him looking like he's in absolute bliss for the privilege of playing with your breasts... it's practically impossible to handle.

Before you know it, he's standing up from your bed with you in his arms, immediately turning around to place you on top of the mattress, head lying comfortably on your pillows before he quickly resumes his exploration of your body.

He places a few kisses on your collarbone, trailing his mouth down to your breasts. He gently nibs on your skin, making you moan out loud before he continues down your stomach.

A playful smirk appears on his face when he notices the way your hips grind up when he gets closer to the edge of your shorts, immediately looking up at you. “What?” he asks, and the way his voice sounds right now might genuinely be enough to make you combust in your spot. “Growing impatient?”

“Shut up,” you reply, which makes him laugh. It's not like you could do much to defend yourself when you're laying on your bed with him practically between your legs now, and you just keep praying that he keeps going.

Luckily, he doesn't keep you waiting. His hands meet the edge of your shorts, pulling them down your legs along with your underwear. You just can’t ignore the satisfaction of finally being able to see him again, staring at you just like he did through the camera. This time, however, you can clearly see the way his eyes travel down your body, silently admiring what lies before him.

“You like what you see?” you ask him in an attempt to try to feel like you have some control over the situation.

Bucky grins. “A lot,” is all he says, comfortably resting between your legs.

Your entire body reacts to him when he presses his lips against your inner thigh, keeping his eyes on you as he trails upwards, using his hands to spread your legs and keep them that way for him.

A shuddering moan escapes you when you finally feel his tongue on you, exploring your folds with slow, teasing moves, almost as if he’s testing the way you react to him at first. Your eyes meet his, and he has the audacity to offer you a smile while his tongue keeps pleasuring you.

Then, he focuses entirely on your clit, flicking his tongue in a way that has you moaning and squirming underneath him while keeping a strong grip on his hair, gathering all loose strands in your hands to prevent them from getting in the way of what he’s doing.

As soon as you start rocking your hips against his tongue, he places his metal arm over your pelvis while looking up at you, silently telling you to stay still. All you can do is whimper in reply, which makes him pull away from you. “Don’t be like that, doll,” he practically warns you.

You hate the amount of control he seems to have over you all of a sudden. “Sorry…” you mutter, using your hands on his hair to urge his face closer to you again. “Want you to keep going…”

He laughs at that, choosing to show you some sort of mercy by using his hand instead, rubbing gentle circles over your clit. “Remember what you told me about manners?”

Fucking asshole. That’s all you can think about at that moment as you softly let out another whine. “Please, keep going…please…”

“Now, that’s much better,” he replies with a sly grin, repeating exactly what you said to him that time, even using the same emphasis and pauses you used.

Immediately after that, his mouth is on you again and this time he gives you absolutely no indication of stopping. The way he begins to eat you out is otherworldly– messy, loud, hungry…it’s like he has never tasted anything this good before.

His arm presses slightly harder on your pelvis to make sure you stay still while using his available hand to finger you, two of his fingers sliding inside you. His pace is relentless at this point, sucking hard on your clit while his fingers keep moving in and out, curling them at the perfect angle to almost make you scream in pleasure.

He only slows down when he feels your legs trembling, involuntarily closing as much as they can with him still between them, walls clenching around his fingers, and the most heavenly sounds coming out of you.

Fully aware of your orgasm, he moves back to simply observe how you experience the peak of pleasure he was able to provide, his fingers barely even moving anymore to give you enough space to recover– or at least, recover enough for him to continue.

As soon as he realizes you’re doing a little better, his mouth and fingers resume the same pace he was using before you came, apparently not having nearly enough of you yet. The fact that he seems so obsessed with your pussy doesn’t help your situation at all, making you feel almost dizzy at the idea of him being so hypnotized by your body. It makes you feel extremely good, almost worshipped in a way. And it’s exactly what he promised if he ever got the chance to have you all to himself: to treat you like a queen.

He does his best to help you reach your second orgasm as soon as possible, like being between your legs has been his entire life’s purpose. Like he’s been patiently waiting for this opportunity and now that he finally has it, there’s no way he’s letting it go to waste. You’re leaving an absolute mess on his face and hand, but he just doesn’t seem to care– if anything, it looks like he wants to be as messy as possible.

It doesn’t take much for you to come again, leaning back against your mattress as waves of pleasure strike you. “Fuck…” you mutter, barely able to form any coherent thoughts in your brain other than how good he’s making you feel.

You keep your eyes closed for a bit, as if that could somehow make you regain full control over your body faster, appreciating the time he gives you to recover. When you finally open them and look down between your legs, you see Bucky already looking at you, leaving quick kisses along your inner thighs. You can’t help but notice how his mouth and chin are practically glistening with your arousal, his hair a complete mess from your hands desperately holding onto it as if to ground yourself.

And then, just when you thought you could get an actual chance at recovery, his fingers are entering you again.

“Oh my god…” you whisper, leaning your head against the pillows because even when you’re already way too stimulated, you can’t get enough of him pleasuring you.

“One more, baby. One more…” he replies, almost as if trying to convince you to just let go and enjoy it. “Just give me one more…”

You really don’t need much convincing, letting him have you all to his mercy once again. He switches his position now though, sneaking an arm underneath each of your legs to keep them spread out for him.

Showing absolutely no sympathy for your current state, his mouth begins to devour you. Like this is the last time he’ll ever be able to touch you. Like the fucking world is ending. You’re not sure you’ve ever been with someone who has been this desperate to eat you out.

Feeling and hearing your third orgasm is like a reward for him, groaning against your clit when you come all over his face once again. He enjoys the way your entire body trembles with each gentle stroke of his tongue, savoring you for a little longer before finally moving back, letting out a soft chuckle when you give him a look. “What?” he asks playfully, moving to be fully on top of you again.

“I hate you so much,” you reply, knowing he’s enjoying himself a little too much.

“Do you?” he asks, inching his face closer to you. All you can do at that point is nod. “Didn’t look like it.”

You do genuinely hate him. You hate him because he presents himself as this shy and awkward guy that apparently has no idea how insufferably hot he is, yet proceeds to eat pussy like he’s a trained professional. That duality of him being incredibly sweet but an absolute menace when sex is involved is something your brain just can’t compute. Is he even real? Is it possible that a guy like him genuinely exists?

His kiss makes you snap out of it, moaning softly against his mouth when you taste yourself on his tongue. He keeps a firm grip on your hips while your fingers delicately trace up and down his firm back.

Eventually, as the two of you keep making out, your hands move to the front of his pants, realizing he’s trying to kick his boots off while you try to get rid of more of his clothes.

“Shit,” he mutters against your lips. “Hold on,” he says shortly after, standing up from the bed to be able to take his shoes off.

You take that as the perfect opportunity to stand up as well, noticing the way Bucky watches you curiously. “What?” you ask him nonchalantly, fully aware that he probably knows what your intentions are already.

“Nothing…” he replies simply, still watching your movements very carefully.

“You look a little nervous,” you point out, still like it’s a casual conversation. Like you’re not literally on your knees in front of him, looking up with the most sinful eyes as you work on getting rid of his belt and black jeans.

He lets out a quick chuckle, playfully rolling his eyes at your attempts of regaining control over the situation. “Not nervous. Excited, maybe.”

“Oh, I’m sure you are.”

Bucky doesn’t reply, simply looking down at you with darkened eyes, gently caressing your cheek with the back of his hand as you remove his pants and boxers.

Your eyes immediately focus on his cock– hard, big and all yours to enjoy. The sound that leaves his mouth when you wrap your hand around him is sinful, encouraging you to immediately start pleasuring him.

“Is this what you kept picturing when you were jerking off to my streams?”

Yes, absolutely. Imagining it was your hand the one masturbating him never failed to make him come. But he should've known it would feel a million times better than he imagined. Absolutely no fantasy can compare to this…to the sight of you on your knees, eager to play with his cock for as long as you can.

“Something like that…” he replies, but before he can elaborate further you put him inside your mouth, making him forget whatever it is that he was trying to say.

He throws his head back, enjoying the sensation of your lips around his cock, bobbing your head in a steady rhythm. One of your hands holds him at the base, the other massaging his balls to increase his pleasure.

“Fuck, baby, your mouth feels so good…” he praises you in a low voice, making you determined to do whatever you can to earn more of that.

Bracing yourself, you take as much of him as you could inside your mouth until he's hitting the back of your throat, which inevitably makes you gag. The sound of you choking around his cock has got to be the hottest thing he has heard in his entire life, gathering your hair in a very messy ponytail as he urges you to put him deep inside your mouth again.

You let him guide you, noticing how much he enjoys it when you take him all the way in, struggling to hold back your gag reflex. “God, I can't get enough of you,” he groans, giving you some space to breathe before he's shoving his cock back inside your mouth. “Looking so perfect with my dick down your throat…it feels so good…like that pretty little mouth was made just for me, huh?”

You can't do anything but moan around him, placing your hands behind your back. The little gesture makes him grin approvingly. “You’ll be the death of me, doll.”

Despite the slightest of soreness on your jaw and at the back of your throat, you keep trying to do your absolute best to fit as much of him without your reflexes betraying you, not caring about any sort of discomfort. Being used by him for his own satisfaction is enough to make you forget about all of it. His praise for letting him use you in this way is more than enough.

Finally, he moves back from you, helping you back on your feet before grabbing your chin to kiss you. It's brief, but it still manages to make you feel dizzy. Fuck, what has he done to you?

Bucky pulls back, only to leave lazy kisses all over your neck. “You're so perfect…” he whispers, his hands exploring your skin like you might disappear at any second. “Tell me what you want, doll– say it, and it's all yours.”

Leaning your head slightly to the side, you allow his lips to explore your skin as he pleases, holding you close to his body. “Want you to fuck me…exactly the way you promised…”

You didn’t need to say anything else. It’s like he was just waiting for you to say anything that would give him any sort of confirmation that you want this as much as he does. As if he needs any more confirmation of your insane attraction to him.

Then, he seems to remember something, giving you an apologetic smile but still holding you close to him. “I, uh…I don’t have a condom.”

You pause for a second before replying. “I’m on the pill, if that works for you.”

“It works for me if it works for you.”

The reply brings a smile to your face, immediately wrapping your arms around his neck to bring him closer again. “It works for me,” you mutter, right before crashing your lips against his.

Bucky guides you back to your bed and you immediately lay on top of your mattress again, him on top of you at all times while continuing to kiss you. There’s something absolutely addictive with the way he’s treating you- so caring and gentle yet so…deliciously possessive and rough. Again, is that duality of him that might make you lose all your sanity (if you haven’t lost it already).

You take the lead now, reaching between your bodies to guide him where you need him the most. He lets a soft moan against your lips when he feels the tip of his cock against your entrance, eager to dive deeper and deeper into you.

Inch by inch, he moves slowly until he’s finally fully inside you. “Oh my– fuck, you feel amazing…” he mutters, hiding his face against your neck, taking in your scent as he allows himself a movement to enjoy how it feels to be this deep inside, before finally starting to move.

His hips move slowly at first before his rhythm increases in speed, still managing to make every roll of his hips incredibly intentional. His metallic arm holds his weight above you while his other hand rests at your waist.

The more speed he takes with his thrusts, the louder your moans become, eyes practically rolling to the back of your head as he repeatedly hits that sensitive spot inside of you. Your entire body feels on fire, hands moving to his back now, nails digging into his skin.

“Is this what you wanted?” he asks, refusing to slow down his pace as he pounds into you with a force that proves how desperate he is to finally be able to have you like this after months of only watching you through a screen, but also with a commitment that shows he’s determined to satisfy you as much as he can.

“Yes…” you whisper barely, too overwhelmed to say more than that.

“What was that?” he asks yet again. You could picture the playful smirk on his face just by the sound of his voice. “Look at me.”

Doing as told, you open your eyes to see him. Having him on top of you, looking like there’s nothing he enjoys more in this world than fucking you, is probably the hottest thing you’ll ever see in your life.

“Yes…love it– don’t stop, please…don’t stop,” you reply, this time making eye contact with him. You can see the effect your words have on him, tightening the grip on your waist as a moan slips out of his mouth.

“I won’t stop,” he replies, maintaining eye contact at all times. “Not until I make you scream for me.” His comment makes you practically whimper, which drives him insane. “You’re so fucking sexy…”

He keeps his pace, intending to make you reach your fourth orgasm of the night. You watch him, looking so determined, a few strands of hair falling loosely over his face but he doesn’t seem to care. He goes from moaning, to whispering how good you feel around him, then back to moaning. Yes, you’re an absolute wreck right now, but he’s not doing any better either.

The way he’s fucking you eventually becomes too much for your body to handle, and he immediately starts to read upon the signs. How your moans pitch, the way your nails scratch his back with more desperation. How your walls keep tightening around him and your legs are practically wrapped around his body.

It's like the absolute reward for him. He inches down to kiss you, moaning into each other's mouths as he keeps pounding into you, skin slapping against yours more vigorously the closer he is to come.

“Please.” He’s the one begging you now, looking deep into your eyes as he leans back just enough to do so. “Let me feel it, baby…let me feel you, please.”

That's as much encouragement as you need, legs trembling with the intensity of your high. You let out your loudest moan yet, eyes rolling back again and your hands tightly gripping his shoulders in an attempt to ground yourself.

The visual of it all, mixed with how incredibly tight you feel, makes Bucky orgasm shortly after. His metallic fingers dig into your thigh, giving you his last few thrusts as he's practically shuddering. You whine in response, gladly accepting the load he’s giving you.

Exhausted, both of you try to regain control of your breathing, starting to become more aware of the layer of sweat that covers your body– just further proof that he just fucked the absolute shit out of you.

He stays inside you for a bit, both of you recovering still. Despite staying on top of you, he makes sure not to crush you with his weight. He leaves a trail of short kisses across your collarbone while you gently play with his hair, even when you know you probably shouldn’t do that.

“You’re perfect…” he mutters against your skin, which brings a genuine smile to your face.

“You’re not too bad yourself,” you offer as a joke.

He looks up at you, unable to hold back a quick laugh. “Is that all I get?”

“What, four orgasms weren't enough?”

“Not nearly enough,” he immediately replies. “I plan on earning a lot more of those in the future.”

“Is that so?” you continue the little banter despite feeling slightly conflicted by his statement. A part of you would want to see him again because holy shit is he good in bed, but another part of you fears making this a recurring thing.

Perhaps that's just a recipe for disaster. With him living right across the hall it's pretty easy to keep hooking up, but what if the lines start to get blurred and this starts to drift into something else? What if he gets confused and starts catching feelings for you?

Or worse. What if you start catching feelings? The fact that you worry about continuing to have sex with him because it could turn into a problem is more than enough hint that perhaps it could happen if you get a little too carried away.

But you can't bring yourself to be rational about it or even try to imagine any sort of scenario where you don't end up tangled in bed with him again when he looks back at you with those captivating eyes of his.

He might actually be the death of you.

“It'll be my personal mission to earn as much as possible next time,” he replies, leaning in to give you a short kiss on the lips. Like he's already used to that.

You don't say anything about that, choosing to stay quiet for now. He doesn't seem to notice your inner conflict, simply offering you a smile before deciding to stand up, carefully moving out of you before hurriedly looking around, disappearing inside your bathroom.

Just seconds later, he comes back with the entire roll of toilet paper, not sure if he should offer it to you or not. “Want me to help you?”

You appreciate it, but grab the toilet paper for yourself. “I got it, thank you.”

He makes sure to clean after himself as well, discarding all the used toilet paper before leaving the bathroom at your disposal.

When you're back in the bedroom, you notice he's dressing again, frantically looking for something. With his back turned to you, you silently take note of the scratching marks you left on his skin with your nails. “Your shirt is in the hallway,” you point out, noticing it’s the only item of clothing missing from his body.

“Right,” he says, suddenly remembering it.

There's an awkward silence that follows. You're not sure if he's expecting you to say something else (perhaps invite him to stay for a little longer?), but the alarms in your head are way too loud now to avoid them. This is extremely dangerous.

Perhaps having sex with him was a terrible idea.

So you just offer him a smile as if that could ease the tension. He smiles back, but you can see the disappointment in his eyes. It's evident he was expecting something else that you're not quite sure if you could give him.

The two of you exit your bedroom, him immediately going to pick up his shirt before putting it on, practically standing at the entrance of your apartment already.

“So…I guess I’ll see you,” he says, sounding very unsure about that statement.

“Of course,” you reply, sounding even more unsure. “We're neighbors after all.”

The tension keeps getting worse and worse, but lucky for you he has already opened the front door of your apartment. You walk towards him, intending for your last interaction to be a quick goodbye and absolutely nothing else. Just a quick goodbye and that's it.

But of course that wasn't going to happen. You knew it wouldn't be quick from the moment he stays right in front of you, blue eyes meeting your own as if trying to figure out what exactly goes through your head in that very moment. You look back at him in silence, finding yourself unable to just shut your door and move on from what happened tonight.

You see his inner conflict before something seems to make him snap out of it, deciding to test his luck by stepping close to you again. He grabs your chin between his fingers, capturing your lips in a kiss that feels like a goodbye and a ‘please let me see you again’ at the very same time.

It's impossible not to kiss him back, especially when there's a big part of you that needs this to happen again. To feel him so close. To discover more of him through his body language alone…and, who knows, perhaps getting more time to figure out what this attraction really means.

He pulls away from you looking a lot more optimistic. “Goodnight,” he offers with a genuine smile.

“Goodnight, James.”

You hear his little chuckle as he walks to his door. “Bucky.”

“What?”

“No one really calls me James,” he explains further, using his keys to open the door. When he does, he barely even opens it, perhaps fearing his cat would try to escape again. “It's just Bucky.”

“Oh…well, goodnight, just Bucky,” you reply with a soft grin on your face, right before finally closing the door. As soon as you do, you stand there in complete silence, replaying what recently happened in your head. From the moment he had you pinned against the wall to the way you two hurriedly made it to your bedroom. How his hands felt on your body, the things he said…

You had to hop in the shower to try to clear your mind. And perhaps to try and get rid of that growing need to have him with you again.

Next morning is pretty uneventful. You wake up, get dressed and tidy up your bedroom. The thought of Bucky is very much present at the back of your mind, half-regretting the decision you made last night. And yet…a part of you feels almost excited about this mixed feeling growing within you because it’s been a very long time since you’ve felt anything remotely similar.

No one has been able to haunt your thoughts like him. No one has made you feel so scared about the depth of your feelings. And definitely no one has ever made you feel all that so fast. Even when you try to trick yourself into thinking otherwise, you knew there was chemistry between the two of you ever since the first time you spoke to him. You’ve been feeling like this since that night, and perhaps it’s pointless to pretend you can run away from it just by ignoring it or downplaying it.

There’s something about him that just keeps pulling you in no matter how hard you try to fight it.

The doorbell interrupts your train of thoughts, and you already know who it is before you open it. You immediately realize the amount of joy it brings you to see Bucky standing in the hallway. “Hi,” you say casually, trying very hard to ignore the reaction your entire being has to his presence.

“Good morning,” he offers with a shy smile, scratching the back of his neck as he looks away from you. “I…uh, just came here to…” he tries, failing terribly at expressing exactly why he’s standing in front of you right now. “Have you had any breakfast yet?”

You can only smile wider at that. “No, I haven’t.”

“Oh…cool. I mean, that’s why I’m here actually!” he continues, starting to feel a little more confident about his words. “I found this new café that opened a few weeks ago, about two blocks from here…I was wondering if you had already made your review on it.”

He really is too cute for your own good. Despite all the doubts and fears your own brain creates when it comes to opening up to the possibility of exploring whatever this is, with the (high) risk of catching feelings, you can’t deny how good you feel around him. At ease, comfortable, cherished in a weird way.

The alarms go completely silent when he’s smiling at you like that, right after asking if you’d want to have breakfast with him by remembering a silly thing you told him the first time the two of you talked.

“Honestly, no. I haven’t checked that place yet,” you reply before a quick silence follows, failing to keep a short, nervous giggle in. “Is it good?”

“I haven’t been there either, actually. I just saw it was there a few days ago. Perhaps we should go check it out.”

You look back into his eyes, knowing he’s silently hoping that you’d accept his invitation. It’s obvious what would come out of this. You know it and he knows it. There’ll be breakfast together, and then perhaps lunch or dinner, or just any excuse to spend time together. He’ll be back in your bed or perhaps you’ll go to his apartment next time.

It’s painfully obvious you’ll most likely end up falling for this guy.

There’s just no escape for you. Cute, handsome, attentive and good in bed? It’s like anything you’d ever want in a guy and so much more. If he keeps this up for long enough, you’ll be ruined. Unless he does a complete 180° of his personality, reveals a secret wife you had no idea about, turns out to be a serial killer or something that would make you wonder if he really is as perfect as he’s presenting himself to be right now…you will fall for him.

As for Bucky, he’s already smitten by you. If you told him to jump out of his window right now he’d probably do it without hesitation just because you told him to and he wants to get your approval. All he wants right now is to have the chance to get to know you, and for you to also know him. He couldn’t possibly be more into the idea of the two of you together.

So, really, the only thing holding you back from venturing into the dangerous waters of dating is yourself…and there’s barely any dangers yet when the guy waiting for you at the edge of the precipes is quite frankly your dream guy.

Fuck it.

“Sounds good,” you reply, excitement already growing within you in anticipation of what’s to come this morning. “Let me grab my bag and I’ll be right back.”

He waits by the door, still thinking to himself how exactly he managed to land a date with you. That website did more for him than he would’ve ever expected.

As you return to him, he watches as you step out into the corridor before closing the door or your apartment. Before you even have time to come up with something to say, he places his hands at each side of your face, hurriedly pulling you into him for a kiss. It’s like he was desperate for it. Like he hasn’t had the chance to kiss you in years.

Pulling away, the first thing you notice is the soft grin on his face. “Couldn’t help it,” he mutters, right before stepping aside, gently placing a hand on your lower back to guide you to the elevator.

Oh, you’re so screwed.

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