#I remember sitting around a table with a group of friends and I put my head on my friend's shoulder

[no-one-hears-me]

people need to be more comfortable expressing love and affection with friends

[drgnflyteabox]

something to remember you by

pairing: soap x fem reader summary: your boyfriend wants some memorabilia of you to take on his deployments. only, he wants his superior officer to take the photos. w.c: 3.7k tags/warnings: dubcon, cucking, mild degradation, oral (m + f, rough), hair pulling, un-negotiated kink, dom!soap, clothed man naked reader, teasing scent kink (m + f), one (1) pussy slap, crying, squirting, unprotected sex, some anxiety, reassurance mid-fuck, overstimulation, some aftercare, abrupt but open ending, reader has some internal shame around sex/kink, reader doesn't rlly like her bf

At first, it’s nothing. Dirty talk, suggestive texts, passing comments while he’s on his second deployment with a hand around his cock and you pretending to be into it.

"Think about it, babe," he’s panting, but it’s less sexy when you can tell he’s deepening his voice on purpose like Christian Bale Batman. "Don’t you wanna give me something to remember you by? While I’m out here fighting for you?"

Corny. So fucking corny. Your feet are kicked up on your coffee table, fuzzy-socked, face schlopped with a cooling gel mask. Quarter past 8 o’clock, and he’s trying to sell you on letting one of his army buddies fuck you and take pictures of you. The absurdity makes you almost laugh.

"…babe?" Oh, shit.

"Yeah honey, I’m here." You’d kind of feel bad, if it weren’t for the ick factor. It wasn’t that you didn’t like him, he was fine, it was just that since he’d joined the army he’d inched closer and closer to picking up a mic and dictating which body counts were okay to women over podcasts. That, and he’s gotten hornier. Kinkier.

Which is fine, really. Only you don't consider yourself adventurous. Sex is like a chore, something to put you to sleep, to relax the muscles. Relationships are quid pro quo - I suck your dick, you make my parents think I’m succeeding in life, deal?

Not to mention, you've never even considered stepping outside of the idea that sex is between committed couples only, sequestered away and hidden in the closet like old clothes.

"So, are you picturing it?" Schlap schlap schlap. He must’ve added lotion. "You can say no obviously, ughnnn, but I know this guy really well. I'd, ahhh fuck, sit in the other room."

"Thanks for being so considerate," you sound dry, but you’re honestly intrigued. Life has been monotonous since graduation, the transition from study to office… rough.

You aren’t adventurous. But you’re so fucking bored.

"Can I see him first?" On the TV in front of you, muted, Matthew Macfayden confesses his love tearfully in the rain. You want to be bewitched, body and soul. To feel something.

"So you’ll do it? Oh, fuck-" Not what I said, you think. His voice goes high, reedy, trembling with his orgasm. "See how fucking hot this makes me? I’ll send a pic, give me a sec."

It’s a group photo. He’s dressed in his uniform, head shaved, standing next to a group of a dozen or so men. Outlined, at the far corner with a group of guys big enough to dwarf a good third of the rest, is a man with building biceps and a smarmy grin and a confident, wide-legged pose. Hips jutted out. Fuck, he’s hot. You can see his bulge through his pants, through the picture, under a heavy tac vest.

"Get in, get in!" the apartment is clean for once. At least, clean without you getting sick of his clutter and playing maid. Did he do it himself to impress his friend? That makes you snort, but he doesn’t catch it, too preoccupied with his phone.

"Um, woah-" you start, taken aback. It looks like a porn set. There’s a plastic sheet on the ground in front of the couch. "I thought this was supposed to be casual?"

"It is, babe," he’s brushing you off, same as he did the few days leading up to this. You’d gone through some minor confidence and judgment crises, anxiety building like a balloon about to pop. All of which he’d brushed off.

It’s all fun and games, babe. Plus he’s done this before, he’s like a pro, showed me some videos - that was something you hadn't agreed to, just some pictures for him to take on deployments.

Still, trepidation makes you sweat, makes your thighs stick to the brown leather couch when you sit and try to sip water. Your socks crinkle the sheet.

You don’t turn when he arrives, still too nervous, knees stuck together and hands slipping on the glass from condensation when they start talking behind you. There’s too many what ifs - all reasons you’d used to avoid hookups in college, all reasons you wanted to break through your shell now.

Plus, you’re sick of hearing "did you finish?"

"This must be her," says an accented voice, gruff and maybe amused, "ye feelin' shy?"

No. You’re just nervous. Exposed. One of the only conditions you'd pushed was no cuck chair, but now you weren't sure how to feel to be left alone with him soon. This man is so big, so imposing.

"Hi," you say smartly. He looks just like his photo, only bigger. Bulging muscles and the same wide stance when he comes to stand in front of you. It’s only because you can’t stand sitting face-to-face with his crotch that you stand and hold your hand out to shake.

"And polite!" Loud. He introduces himself as Johnny, which makes your boyfriend's eyebrows raise. "So cute." he takes the liberty of bypassing your hand and grabbing your waist.

Oh fuck, he runs hot. His hands burn, even through your shirt. You feel self-conscious, plain, looking up at his probing blue eyes. They’re so intense, captivating, distracting you from the feeling of him getting closer and closer, till your tits are pressed to his.

"Hey-"

The moment breaks. Your boyfriend is looking at you both, unreadable expression on his face. Is he regretting this? Feeling emasculated, maybe? Hard to feel much sympathy when you’re the one about to get fucked.

And it was his idea.

"I’m gonna go to the bedroom," his eyes squint, flitting between the both of you before he scurries away, pants tented.

"Now that that's outta the way," Johnny grunts. "C'mere." And sits down with a grunt, pulling you to him.

You try to pivot, to sit next to him, but he's strong and coordinated so you wind up in his lap, back touching the arm of the couch and your legs slung over his, bum on one thigh.

"That's more like it, no?" there's that wolfish grin again, so close. One hand rests on your knee, possessively, while the other wraps around your shoulders and plays with your shirt. "Why don't we introduce ourselves?"

The hand on your knee moves to your face, gripping your cheeks in a grip hard enough to push your lips out into an embarrassing pout. You struggle a little, pulling at his wrist, but he doesn't budge.

He pulls his phone out, aiming the camera at your face, recording a video through a text-app. You can that it's a groupchat, assured by your boyfriend before that it was totally private, babe. This is jut between us.

"Now say hello," he puts his stubbly cheek next to yours, rubbing like a cat. "And introduce yourself."

"H'llo," you struggle through it, muffled by his grip. Your name is almost unintelligible, and your jaw starts to ache a little.

"Say, can I please suck your cock, sir?"

Your stomach tightens, right down to your pussy, which gushes a little into your panties.

"Cn'I please suck your cock, sir?" he's so fucking forward, just jumping in headfirst. The loss of control, your being told what to do, makes your clit jump. Sex has never been like this - you've never been so acquiescing.

"Of course you can, bonnie!" you're almost tossed to the floor, no gentleness as he pulls you toward him by the hair so quickly it almost makes you dizzy. He scoots to the edge of the couch, leaning back against it, and uses that strong arm to rub your face on his bulge. "Get me hard."

He puts his phone on the arm of the couch.

You flounder, hands finding his knees and trying to pull back. He doesn't let you.

"Use your mouth, kiss me," his hand finds a firmer hold on your hair as you start mouthing against him, tasting denim, smelling his musk, letting it get to your head and make you dizzy. "That's right, kitten."

His cock starts to chub under his clothes, and you almost wish you could feel it in your mouth. Oral isn't your favourite, but the way your pussy clenches around nothing and drips into your panties is making you think maybe you were wrong about yourself.

"Up, up," your face is rubbed a little raw by the time you sit up, looking at him. Waiting for instruction. "Everything off, except your panties."

You obey, stripping your shirt and bra and then your shorts. Your nipples tighten in the cool air of the apartment, goosebumps dancing along your arms and your belly. Self-consciousness almost has you reaching to cover yourself, until Johnny grabs you by the shoulders and twists you just enough that you're back to facing his phone.

"Look at these," he grunts in your ear, fingers finding your nipples. Pulling them, pinching them. It's not for you, it's for the camera. You feel like an object, an accessory, secondary to getting the shot of the rough pads of his fingers teasing you into whimpers.

You've never been more turned on.

"Nice, eh?" he pulls them up and out, which hurts, but draws a line of pure electricity from your nipples to your clit. "Whatd'ye think, L.T?" the name doesn't register. Army stuff, you assume.

You're turned back around sharply again to face his actual cock. He's pulled it from his fly, thick and leaking, while you were getting undressed. It's unfair, really, nice and long and curved.

"Ask me again," a statement. A command, phone discarded.

"Please can I suck your cock, sir?" the words make your cheeks burn, your body quiver, your clit jump.

"Ye can," laughter this time, worsening your embarrassment. His hand finds your hair again, pulling you down when you're too slow to touch your lips to the head of his dick. "I'm gonnae fuck your face, alright?"

Without waiting, he lifts his hips up and thrust into your mouth. It's not as deep as it can go, but you almost gag, unprepared. The next thrust is deeper, quicker. He's letting you build up to it, letting your hands rest on his knees for balance.

Your nose touches his pubic hair, inhaling the scent of him. Any attempt at hollowing your cheeks, sucking, licking, is futile. He's so quick that the best you can do is hang on for the ride, keeping your teeth in check.

Drool builds and spills past your lips, making wet sounds compete with his frankly pornographic moaning. He's a man possessed, using you while you squeeze your eyes against overwhelmed tears.

Finally he yanks you off of him by the hair, holding you up while you splutter from the unexpected change. Your hands go to your face, trying to wipe.

"None o'that, now," he bats them away, giving you a shake when you keep trying. "Leave it." like you're a bad dog.

Strings of spit connect your swollen lips to his cock, thin and gooey, that fall to your bare chest when he sits up.

You're turned, stood up and then guided to the couch to sit. Johnny slaps your thighs to get you to open them, lifting your feet for you so that your heels rest on the edge of the couch cushions.

"Awe, look how wet she is," he holds your legs, exposing your wet panties to him and to his phone, where he takes a few pictures. Again, you wonder about the appeal of this for your boyfriend. It's hot for you. Degrading, but hot. Or maybe more hot because of the degradation.

"Oh god," you say out of shock. You've never been so fucking wet in your life, and god forbid he sees how swollen with arousal you are underneath.

"Naw, just me," Johnny says, rubbing his knuckles over your pussy through the fabric. "She all wet and frustrated?"

You don't answer, hands keeping you sat up, chest heaving. You're still a little dizzy.

Johnny licks over your panties, mouthing over them not unlike what you did for him only a few minutes before. It's nothing, really, but you're so worked up that it startles a long, drawn-out moan from you.

He continues like this, never actually making contact with where you need it, with your skin. Every one in a while he turns his head to the side and grins, taking a picture or a videoclip while you tip your head back and resist begging him to just get on with it.

His nose presses on your mound, where he drags it down to your hole and sniffs.

That's what breaks your resolve.

"Please," you whine. Your voice is rough from taking his cock in your throat.

"Please what?" he opens his mouth and puts his teeth on you, not biting, just letting you feel them. Gnawing gently.

"Please do it," you look down at him, and even though he's on his knees you know you aren't the one in control. "Please lick my cunt."

A laugh, mean and condescending. Your eyes close in shame, pussy burning for attention.

"This cunt right here?" he pulls the gusset aside, whistling. "This desperate little cunt?"

"Yes, please," you curl your toes into the couch.

Something shifts in his eyes, some unrecognizable flash. It feels like danger, like you're in over your head. Johnny takes two fingers and rubs them over your clit, slowly at first, and then quickly when he feels how slippery you are.

Somewhere, a volcano erupts and it isn't comparable to the heat or the feeling of your clit finally getting attention. It zings through you, making you squeeze your muscles, taught and trembling.

The pads of his fingers are a rough sensation on your swollen skin, the worlds best vibrator, ribbed for your pleasure. All he does is rub, up and down over your clit, quickly and until your face starts to scrunch together in orgasm, trembling hard.

Then he pulls back and slaps you so hard on your pussy you scream.

You almost come from it, shocked, legs kicking out, skin burning and clit pulsing with desperation, back bowing. You keep making sound after, a long and drawn out aaaaaahhhhh while he grins like the cat that got the cream. Takes another picture, the click of the camera loud in the face of your disappointment.

The intensity of it almost brings you to tears, looking at him with betrayal and vulnerability in your face. You feel weak all of a sudden, cored, devoured, pulled apart as soft as slow cooked meat.

Your panties fall back over your skin, a minor comfort against the sting.

"Poor girl," Johnny says with false sympathy. "Let me make it up to ye."

Then you're up again, pulled and pressed against Johnny's chest until he pulls your underwear down and rearranges you to sit on his lap over his spread legs, yours dangling on either side.

"Gonna bounce ye on my cock, alright?" you nod. "Sit on it."

You lift your hips, using his knees for balance, and he guides the head of his cock to your hole. Stops you from sitting back right away with a hand on your hip, squeezing the soft flesh there, and holding you there.

"They're kissing," he laughs. You feel it, your cunt mouthing at him like a conscious being, separate from you. "Ye think they want tae meet each other?"

"Can I?" you don't fight to keep the whine out of your voice. You want to come, you want this aching and this emptiness to end.

"Can ye what?"

"Sit on your cock, please."

"Well, since ye asked so nicely," and then he notches himself properly again, and forces you down with two hands on your waist. You shout, arching, head thrown back. "Bounce on it now, kitten. Show me how badly ye want to come."

And oh god, you do. You rock forward, shaking at the feeling of him, no technique to guide you just pure intuition, brain and cunt and body as one. Distantly, the sound of the camera registers, but it only makes you move faster.

He spreads your cheeks, exposing where you're connected, putting the camera close to the wet clench of your cunt around his cock and - oh, he's filming it. There's no click, just the wet sounds of you riding him.

"Thas'right," he murmurs lowly, maybe for show. "You wanna come?"

"Yes!" you lean back, then, sweat slicked back sticking to his shirt, forgetting where you are and why you're here. Everything narrows down to your pussy, but you feel compelled to keep your hands off your clit even though you know it would make you come quickly.

You want to listen to him, to wait for permission. The thought is searing heat through your core.

Fingers find your face, slipping into your mouth. Your lips wrap around them, sucking like you would've his cock.

His other hand lifts his phone in front of you both, snapping shots of your unfocused eyes, your tits pushed into the air, his smarmy expression. He hooks his fingers then into your cheek, pulling back like a fishhook.

"Good girl," his lips against your ear, stubble scratching the hot skin of your neck. "I'm gonna fuck you for real now, alright?"

You nod, desperately. He pushes you up and off of him, face down in the cushion. He's still clothed, for gods sake, jeans rubbing against the backs of your thighs when he drags your ass back toward him.

The mushroom head of his cock finds your cunt again, pushing in, driving you nuts. You're moaning helplessly, letting him take your boneless arms to hold them behind you.

He fucks you like a man possessed, in a short strokes, barely leaving the hot clutch of your pussy. The sounds, if they were bad before, are worse now, wet and humiliating.

Every thrust feels like he's slowly inflating a balloon inside you, like something pulling taut, like pressure about to burst.

"Fuck, wait!" you shout and turn your head. The pressure is insane, mixed up with a building orgasm, twined together. He hasn't even touched your clit, and yet you're on the precipice.

Johnny leans down, lips on your ear. He slows, but doesn't stop.

"What is it, bonnie?"

"I have to pee," you'd have mumbled it before, but the feeling is so strong you can't help but whimper and cry. "Please let me up."

"Ye aren't gonna pee," he laughs. "Trust me, just trust me." Then keeps pistoning into you.

You feel like jello, like mush, the only solid part of you is about to burst and somehow it makes you feel real anxiety, dampening your enjoyment.

"Johnny-" you whimper, emotion clogging your voice. You feel vulnerable, held down and bared.

In need of reassurance.

"You're alright," he leans back down and nuzzles your wet cheek. "Ye can let go, kitten, I've got ye."

You gasp, pulsing hard around him, the feeling back again, before you gush around his cock, a spray so intense you cry as it forces him out of you.

"Good. Fucking. Girl!" he slaps your ass once, twice, on both cheeks. Rubs your flank like a horse and then plunges back into you when you finish dripping down your legs.

This is purely selfish, him fucking you hard now, jackrabbiting his hips into yours. You hear the phone again, just barely, as your ears ring.

You're raw from coming without any touch to your clit, a weird limbo between being on-edge and oversensitive.

"Gonna give me another," he's growling now, getting impossibly faster. You actually really cry when he reaches around to twist your clit, thrashing under him, not sure if you want to leap off the couch or crawl right back into him. "Come for me!" he shouts, pulling up the hood of your clit to really get at you, rubbing rough circles around your beleaguered little nub.

The second orgasm melts your brain out of your ears, so long and drawn out that you're still shivering with the aftershocks as he pulls out of you and paints your back with his release.

You pant, arm one arm dangling over the edge of the couch while you the other covers your eyes.

Johnny rubs a hand on your thigh, light and gentle, patting your bum as he stands. You move your arm just enough to squint at him.

His jeans are soaked.

You laugh, uninhibited, delirious. He laughs with you.

"All you, darlin'!" he takes another shot of you, pulls your legs apart and takes a picture of your wet, sore hole.

"Is she good?" ah, your boyfriend. He has his own wet spot on the front of his pants.

"She's good," Johnny confirms. "Ye need to take care of her now, right?"

Something in his voice changes. A different kind of authority to the one he used on you, one reserved for soldiers. For men beneath him. At that thought, your pussy makes a valiant effort to clench.

"Yeah, yeah," you hear. Your boyfriend has his phone out, his cheeks flushed with excitement. "These are great man, thanks."

You start to sit up, still shaking, but not wanting to have him see you that way.

"Man, you weren't kidding!" he goes on. Johnny frowns and steps forward to clap him hard on the back and grab his nape.

"Run a bath, do it now. Ye got granola bars?"

"Uh, yeah. Hold on."

You're touched by his concern, and wind up soaking in warm bubbles after he leaves. You wonder about the photos, about what you look like. If your boyfriend is satisfied, if Johnny is.

If you were good.

Feels like you were, but somethings changed. Johnny found a soft spot knife-deep inside you and dug himself in, made you fly and made sure you were brought back to earth after, tenderized and then wrapped in comfort.

Beneath the water, you touch your pussy. Not to masturbate, just to feel the soft sore flesh, to remember the feeling of fullness.

Maybe, after his deployment, your boyfriend will want more pictures.

Fresh material.

Beneath the water, your finger curls into yourself and you sigh, satisfied.

[kaciebello]

Not even the addressee

Masterlist Badger express ★ Theodore Nott x Hufflepuff ! reader (fem) Summary: When Theodore's name gets misspelled he's not happy about it.  Warnings: no use of y/n, cigerets Authors note: Haiya! This is a sequel series to the whole delivery one. This one is gonna focus on the boys separately! hope you enjoy it! English is not my first language, so I apologize for any mistakes beforehand. Proofread by me and me only (Ｔ▽Ｔ) word count: 1.1k Song: Up to You - PRETTYMUCH, NCT Dream

Mr Theodore Nott was one of his kind. Or he liked to think so, when one of the Ravenclaw girls could not remember his name he was baffled. How dare she. She went through his whole friend group before she came to something resembling his name. He would understand if he was some kind of low-muggle-born. But he was part of what was essentially a royalty. Now, it did occur to him that she might have done it intentionally. He is not dumb, he very much knows all the mind tricks and hacks. And although it was supposed to get his yearning to make her remember his name, he was just mad. Mad is not enghou, he was pissed.

Sitting down and zoned out, he kept playing with the note in his hand. He did not even notice the Hufflepuff girl standing before him with a concerned look. He registered her only when she waved her hand in front of him. He jumped a bit and looked at her. Her yellow bow adorned her hair. Her usual uniform was covered in a long fluffy yellow sweater. Her arms were now retracted to her body.

It was not unusual to see her in the Slytherin common room. He wouldn't even bat an eye if he saw her in the boy's bathroom, or the chamber of secrets. To see her in his room was questionable. He may have asked a question, be it not his mood right now. He was just going to assume she was here to get something for Enzo.

“You okay?” She asked, still a bit startled by his quick movements. He just sighs and reaches over to his bedside table for a pack of cigarettes. He lights one up and offers the other one to her. The girl declines and waves her hand around to get the smoke away from her face. He shrugs and puts them into his pocket. He exhales the smoke and stares at the wall for a minute before speaking.

“You know my name right?” The girl looks at him even more puzzled. Of course, she knew his name, they had been friends for a few months now. Granted sometimes she calls him Theo and both he and Mattheo turn around, but that hardly seems like her fault. She was hesitant to answer.

“Have you changed it?” She asks. She does not mean to offend him if he perhaps decides to go by Denim or something like that. He just gives her a side eye before getting up to fetch the ashtray. She took a few tiny steps to get out of his way. When he passed her back, he gave her the note. She took a look at it. It was a love note alright, Theodore's name was misspelled in all the ways possible. Not even his last name was spelled right, missing one t at the end. The girl was starting to frown and Theodore could see she was getting mad. Finally, someone who understood him.

“Oh hell no!” She yelped. Theodores smiled in bliss, he knew he could count on the Hufflepuffs when it came to empathy. She took a few steps to him and grabbed his face so he could look at her. 

“Who gave you this and how dare they steal my business.” His smile instantly dropped. She was mad but not for the same reason. looking up at her caged in her arms. For a second he thought it didn't matter if she did not know his name. But then he remembered that the Ravenclaw girls pretended to not know and he was pissed again.

“Is that what you're mad about?”

“YES!? What else?

“LOOK AT MY NAME!” Her eyebrows scrunched together and she took another look at the note. She read his name over and over again. Deep down she knew it was supposed to be his name, but it looked like a poor attempt by a kindergartener. Her lips twitched to a smile and her eyes kept flying between him and the note. She was trying to keep her giggles down, he knew it, and she was doing a horrible job at it. He was starting to lighten up.

“Who the fuck is Thieodor.” She laughed out loud. He hung his head in defeat. Debating whether or not to change it. Whether or not to change his whole identity. He however snapped when the girl in front of him placed her hand on his shoulder and wheezed at the fact that his last name is not written as Nott, but as Noot. His hands reach to the base of her neck. He stands up now towering over her. 

She looked at him dazed, eyes full of tears from laughing, seemingly not releasing the position they were in. He's very close to her face, even closer than that one time she was forced to count his eyelashes as a dare. He leaned closer to her, only stopping by her ear. Her breaths were now quick and sharp.

“Theo?” She asked, her voice very weak and quiet. He liked it like that. He liked that she said his name, he liked that she knew his name. If she were to say it again, he swears his knees would bend and he would not be responsible for what was happening after that. He wanted to beg, he would never, but he wanted to. He didn’t answer her, rather he leaned in even closer. She could feel his breath on her neck.

“Say it again, please say my name again.” He whispered. He was so close. One little move and he would kiss her neck and take their friendship on a different boat. He just needed to hear the magic words. He should have known something was wrong when she giggled first before speaking.

“Noot.” She says softly and starts laughing. He shoots up to his full height looking at her in disbelief. He pushes her away with a grimace as she continues laughing.

“Go fuck yourself.” He murmurs and lights up another cigarette. She was now on the floor clutching her stomach. There was nothing he could do but watch her. He waited till she was done. It took her a good 10 minutes. When she was done, she got up, her legs a little bit wobbly. She could not look at his face without smiling excessively but Theodore decided that it was enough for him.

“Let's go, we need to find the others.”

“Okay, Noot Noot.”

“Stop.”

Tag list @daisiesformylove , @klimovatereza-blog , @lafrone ,@enfppuff , @rafegfs , @frogtape , @lovelyygirl8 , @catiwinky, @anyam444 , @leeleecats , @ghostgardn , @reverse-soe , @ultramarinetovelvet , @iwishigotswallowed , @jazz-berry , @justatadbonkers , @partnerincrime0 , @schaebickel , @bunnyhopsstuff , @deluluassapocalypse

[onsomenewsht]

De pelearnos y odiarnos y amarnos después

About when she was everything for you, but you were just one more fan

《 shout out to @p0orbaby for putting up with this shit, making it less shitty and being the only reason Alexia has feelings in the first place

》 Alexia Putellas x Reader

》 words count: +3.7k

》 player [noun]: 1. a person who participates in or is skilled at some game or sport; 3. an actor: a theatrical performer, a person who plays parts on the stage; 5. a person who engages in casual and indiscriminate sexual relationships.

Barcelona is not that big of a city if you stop and think about it.

Especially when you end up in the same places with the same people, especially when your circle of family and friends is pretty tight. Especially when you work in a world as small as the women’s football one.

You and Alexia Putellas crossed paths a lot of times before coming up with the brilliant idea of braiding and twisting your lives together.

And it was fun.

Until it wasn’t anymore.

“I got your coffee”

“Oh, you’re still here”

The smile on your face doesn’t falter, even if her words will ricochet in your mind for a long time, so you keep sipping your coffee and mindlessly scrolling through your phone after booking your ride back home.

It’s quite early, you know she has training in an hour, but the late-night activities you indulged in must have tired the Catalan more than she expected as you woke up before her.

Usually, you don’t even find her in the apartment when you drift out of sleep, slowly collecting your things and leaving the empty place with a pair of keys to hide under a plant vase.

“I had time to go to the cafeteria around the corner, you slept through your first alarm”

“Why didn’t you wake me up?”, it’s not really a question as she sprints up to the bathroom.

It’s known Alexia is quite strict with her routine and her absolute devotion to her passion and profession, you’re not really phased about her rush. Eating the pasties that came with your drinks is a good enough distraction as you leave the blonde to her morning rituals.

Your ride is going to be ten whole minutes later than expected anyway.

When she joins you in the kitchen, already dressed in training attire, it’s clear she will not indulge and sit to have breakfast with you. Not deeming her of a look, you hand the footballer her coffee and favourite treat.

“Thank you”, she smiles at you.

How Alexia manages to turn your day upside down in a matter of moments, just with casually cruel words or well-placed kisses, still goes beyond you.

Her lips on your neck are a proven method and a really effective distraction to keep herself on your good side, she’s out of the door as soon as she hears your moan and feels your shoulders relax under her hands.

~

The club is packed as you make your entrance, the sudden change of temperature causing a shiver to go down your exposed back.

Despite the number of bodies dancing around each other, you spot your friends pretty easily – the loudest group in the most secluded corner of the place. Laughs and screams are thundering above the reggaeton music as you get closer.

“Here she is, the princess herself, blessing us commoners with her presence!”

“Fuck you”, you hit your best friend Jordi with a forceful punch on his shoulder but a genuine smile lighting up your features.

“Not my fault we can barely remember your face nowadays”

“Yet I still have to look at your stupid one”

He doesn’t mind your hand on his face, annoyingly shoving him off as you take a free seat at the table and greet all your other friends. It’s been a while since the last time you went out with them.

The night gets intense quickly as you finish your third drink and hit the dance floor with Jordi. You two have been friends since even before you can remember, learning to walk together and bonding over shared happy memories and sad heartbreaks.

He was the first person you came out to, not regretting telling him even when he laughed in your face, claiming he knew as well as your high school Maths professor did – maybe your crush was not as good of a secret as you hoped for.

You were the first person he confessed his fear of turning into his own father, not regretting telling you even when you booked him an appointment with a therapist and assured him that people are allowed to not like their own parents, but still love them in some twisted way.

Jordi is a great friend, the one you’re most comfortable with. That’s how you find yourself with your arms around his shoulders and his hands on your waist as the music blasts in the club.

It’s a freeing sensation, to be able to let yourself go in the secure embrace of someone you love.

A strange feeling crumbles from the pit of your stomach as another pair of hands circles you from behind, but you don’t think too much about it. Your body is always reacting to Alexia.

She doesn’t even have to touch you, somehow feeling her eyes on you the moment she entered the club with a bunch of cheering friends.

You knew it was a matter of time.

“Can I steal you for a dance?”

Jordi shoots you a raised eyebrow and a silent question, not amused with the whole situation and not quite happy with the way you’re handling this relationship with the blonde girl. He’s too supportive to say anything right this moment, but you know he has opinions – strong ones.

You nod with a smile before turning around in Alexia’s arms.

“He doesn’t like me”, her hands on your waist but her eyes fixed on Jordi.

“You don’t even know him”

“I don’t need to, he looks at me like I kicked his dog”

The tension is quite annoying for you, so you don’t even dignify her with an answer, merely acknowledging her disappointment by tracing her frown with your fingers. The Catalan hands are firmer as she pushes your bodies closer, following the music and the beats of your hearts.

“Wanna come to my place?”

“I’m here with my friends”, you half-smile, you told her a couple days ago you were going out to celebrate a colleague’s promotion.

“I leave for camp tomorrow”

You know, you plan a lot of your commitments around her crazy schedule.

All Alexia needs to do to convince you to leave the club is move her surprisingly caring hands up and down your exposed back, whispering nice words in your ear.

She has you wrapped around her fingers, and she has no shame in turning it in her favour.

~

Football is a family business, flowing in your veins for generations with a grandfather who played for Barcelona and both your parents involved on some level in the sport.

You played for a bit, realising quite early you didn’t have what it takes to go professional, but you found your path toward the green pitch anyway. Making a name as a sports lawyer was quite eventful, now you watch a football game with one eye on the ball and the other on paperwork.

Finding time to just sit there, be present, and enjoy your favourite club play without thinking of the legal repercussions is not easy, yet you manage. It still comes with huge repercussions on your mental health, but that’s part of the fun.

When Alexia crushed your life, you thought it couldn’t really influence your already massive passion for the sport. You already watched Barça games, and you even already know some of the players.

Oh, how wrong you were.

The Blaugrana captain is like a magnet, always able to catch your eyes and lock them on her for the entire 90 minutes, filling your mind and somehow making you body reacts to her every movement. You don’t miss a game, you spot her immediately on the pitch or on the bench.

You smile just knowing she’s doing what she loves.

“They better win or I’ll personally go down there to kick their ass”

You laugh at Mapi outburst. Despite her attitude, you know it pains her to be in the stands to support her friends on the international stage, hidden behind a cap. Telling her how much you admire her stance on such an important cause, no matter the consequences on her own life, is not enough. You’re committed to changing the game for her too.

“Three goals are a lot to overcome”, Ingrid points out with a teasing smile.

“What side are you on?”

“Yours, always”

Seeing the Norwegian kiss her girlfriend’s hand puts a smile on your face, making it easier to bite down the bittersweet taste of jealousy for the amazing relationship they have.

Like if something shakes you, you drift your eyes on the pitch right on time. Alexia is going for a run as Aitana sends her a beautiful pass on her left. You’re on your feet even before the ball finds the back of the net and the crowd erupts in cheers.

The celebration is cut short, there isn’t time to lose, but you can see something sparkling in the footballer’s eyes as she indulges in it a little, spurring the supporters to be louder when she retrieves the ball to restart the game as soon as possible.

Her teammates pat her back as they get back in position, getting just nods and prompts to keep the momentum going.

Then Jenni is on her side and Alexia lets the tall woman hug her, smiling.

Is strange, the uneasy feeling that spreads inside your stomach. Your hands are closed in fists but your legs are trembling, as if your body can’t tell you’re on quite cramped seats.

Spain doesn’t manage to overcome the three goals, despite the team’s best efforts. You know the captain will be in a sour mood for who knows how long, and she’s not going to come to you for comfort – not the one you’re willing to give her anyway.

~

You don’t mean to overhear the conversation, you don’t even mean to be there in the first place.

A national team representative pulls you aside after noticing you on the stands and asks to talk to you – or better, trying to talk you out of a legal wrangle between the federation and one player you represent.

It’s a useless attempt, but you’re not ashamed to admit you enjoy quite a lot letting those men think they can overpower you.

He guides you just outside the stadium, talking over himself. The first argument is reasonable enough, you can admit, but you lose interest pretty easily.

As soon as the players start to exit the facility, post-game rituals cut short after the defeat, you immediately take it like the best way out of the conversation.

You were just there, right behind the doors.

“Cheer up, Ale, let her kiss it better!”, Jenni mocks the blonde with a tattooed arm around her shoulder.

“Shut up!”

“Don’t tell me there’s trouble in paradise already”

“No paradise, no troubles”, Alexia mumbles back, stopping by the door.

They’re probably waiting for someone, unaware of your frozen form just around the corner. A couple of steps, and they would see you. A couple of steps, and this torture would end. Yet you can’t move and they’re still arguing.

“She’s around a lot more, she sleeps at your place–”

“That happens when you have a fuck buddy, I can’t control what she does”

You never hear her talking about you with such spite, such annoyance in her voice. Alexia is not the best one when it comes to expressing her feelings, but you think she’d talk about your relationship with some emotion. Any kind of emotion, but this.

“Oh, come on! You’re cute together–”

“Jenni, drop it”, the Catalan’s tone is harsh and final, “We’re nothing at all”

Well aware your relationship is not defined by any terms, the casually cruel honesty in her words makes your head spin regardless.

You know the nature of the bond between the two of you is built on sex, physical attraction, and convenience for more than one reason.

You’d hope some respect is granted with the intimacy of it all.

When a couple of players finally exit the facility, Alexia is in the back of the group with a deep frown on her face. Your eyes meet immediately and you can easily tell she wishes you could disappear as much as you do.

~

“Are you fucking joking?”

“I said I’m sorry!”, the blonde scoffs as she reaches for her abandoned shirt in a corner of your bedroom.

Hiding the marks on your neck and on her thighs will be more difficult.

“That’s it, you say you’re sorry and that’s it for you”, you fear she doesn’t even know what she’s sorry for.

“I genuinely don’t understand, what do you want from me?”

“I want you to fucking care!”, you rise from your bed, marching toward her before she has the time to leave the room – not minding the height she has on you, “I want you to at least acknowledge your mistake, to really apologise for disrespecting–”

“My mistake?”

When she snorts right on your face, you lose it, shaking your head in disbelief. It’s pretty easy to believe though, it’s not the first time Alexia does or says something that genuinely hurts you and doesn’t even realise what the problem is.

This one time her dismissive behaviour and stubbornness are a bit too much.

The athlete tries to get your attention back, seeing you dressing up and pretending she’s not even in the room anymore.

It takes everything on you to ignore her hands and pleading words.

“You’re overreacting”

“You really should go, Alexia”

“Can we talk about it?”

“About what? You don’t think you have anything to apologise for, you have no idea how much you keep hurting me. Fuck, you were ready to leave a moment ago!”

Opening the front door for her, you feel her eyes studying your body as to read your mind and her action burning inside you in a way you can just hope will not scar you permanently.

Alexia has so much power over you.

You want to hold it all against her, keeping close to the last amount of respect you have for yourself. You want to scream in her face how disregarding she is, how much she keeps shaming your relationship. You want to lay out for her all the actions and all the feelings she has shown you so far, both full of love and full of shit.

“I’ll call tomorrow”

“Please, don’t”, you plead as you invite her to leave one more time.

“Then happy birthday”

Her lips on your forehead burn like a mark.

~

“This is bullshit!”, Alexia mumbles as she drops the papers with the speech you helped her write and rehearse for the past hour.

She has an interview on a famous British sports TV show in a couple of days, they give her a whole segment to talk about the development of women’s football in Europe, about her foundation, and her plans for the future. Then they informed her she should do it in English.

“I think is impressive you can hold your own in your third language, but you can’t pronounce this phrase to save your life”

“I think you’re making fun of me”

“I am, indeed”, you admit with a genuine smile on your face, reaching for her speech to find a way around the words for her.

The footballer watches as you revise the script one more time, her frustration softened looking at your pen dancing around the papers and your tongue trapped between your lips – a sign of your focus, she learned.

“I will cook dinner while you’re on it”, she states, rising from the spot on the sofa before you can meet her eyes.

It happens sometimes, Alexia could prove to you her effort, even her care, with nice little gestures out of nowhere.

A full breakfast could appear on your kitchen table as you wake up late after a long and rough night with the blonde, who left the apartment with the first rays of sunshine.

A ticket for a concert could light up your phone with a few days’ notice, making you cancel any plan and jumping in anticipation for what looks a lot like an actual date.

A bunch of flowers could be delivered at your place without an apparent reason, following weeks of radio silence, but you learned to read her inability to express gratitude with words when you hold her body and soul firmly after a particularly tough training session or media day.

There could be random gestures and small details, making you feel a fleeting sense of stability and a bittersweet taste of how it could be to be loved by Alexia.

~

“I think she could actually love you, if she tries”, Jordi states out of nowhere, half-empty drink in his hand and eyes fixed on your friends having their first dance.

“Excuse me?”

“The fucking queen of football”

“Yeah, I figured. Where’s that even coming from?”

Trembling hands find invisible creases to smooth on your dress, not a good enough distraction from everything around you. Your friends really went on and beyond with the wedding reception, soft music surrounding them as basically all the guests form a circle around couple.

“Just saying”

“You don’t even like her”, you bite back.

“I don’t like how she makes you feel”

“She makes me feel good too”

The pity you let wash over yourself is enough to turn your cheeks red with embarrassment and something else you’re not quite ready to admit.

You know she’d love you, the signs are all there.

You know she knows too.

Letting her hurt you in the process, waiting for a change of heart that may never happen, makes you hate yourself a little bit. Never Alexia, just yourself.

“You should put yourself first”, he finds your hand, holding it firmly.

The music changes subtly as your friends start to join the couple at the centre of the dance floor with their partner.

“You should go dance with Angelica, she can put up with you only so much”

~

You start to question if your love alone can bridge the gap between your lives.

Alexia welcomes you into her apartment more often, having dinner or sharing silent coffees in the morning instead of just letting you stay long enough to satisfy your needs.

And then fall off the face of the earth, ignoring your futile attempts to reach out.

Alexia invites you to nights out with her friends. Her hand holds possessively any part of your body within reach, sending cold stares to anyone who could move too close around you or no less touch you in a shy effort to get your attention.

And then pretends you’re not even there in the first place when someone calls her out on her behaviour.

Alexia saves her jersey for you after an important win, putting the piece of clothing on you herself in the family and friends section. She ignores her sister’s tease to turn the conversation around, talking about details of the game and weekend plans.

And then asks you to come up with some excuse to not attend the same plans she made right in front of you, the same plans you’re invited to by the people she loves most.

Alexia gives you something that looks a lot like love and then takes it all back, ripping away your affection and care without looking back at your deeming light.

“We need to talk”, she greets you into her apartment with unusual gravity and her lips curved at a strange angle.

“Hello to you too”

Fighting fire with fire is one thing you had to learn as your relationship with the Catalan grew, both in your heart and in your life – intertwining and rubbing off every single moment of your day and night.

Alexia takes the cold shoulder with almost a guilty nod, knowing inside she’s the reason for your harsh words and uneasy attitude around everyone lately. You show her colours she didn’t even know existed, and she manages to take them away from you.

“We should stop this”

You turn her voice off as soon as you register her decision.

The footballer tells you that this relationship, this agreement, isn’t working anymore. That you’re hurting each other. That she’s hurting you. She admits she needs to focus on herself, on giving everything she still has in her career.

She says you deserve better, you deserve someone who gives you as much attention and care as you give to them.

Not a sentence, not a single word, or apology matters.

A wave of shame washes over you as soon as you realise she has to be the one to end it all, granting you more respect than you had for yourself.

You stop her speech midway with a raised hand, you accept her decision with a knowing grimace, and you leave her apartment without looking back – allowing her to make any trace of tears disappear from her face.

~

In the weeks that followed, it became clear how deeply your lives intertwined over the time you spent together.

You have to buy a new set of your favourite body wash, your last one still in Alexia’s bathroom. The book you’re reading is still unfinished, letting you questioning if the sister was actually the murderer, as you remember you left it face down somewhere in her apartment. You accept the promotion they offered you months ago, booking a one-way ticket for a city that’s definitely not Barcelona but looks a lot like a new beginning.

You park up memories and try to let go of the hurt, both for yourself and for the end of something you know it’d be beautiful.

It was beautiful, but it was ugly and painful too.

When you find yourself in the stands of a filled stadium, surrounded by high-profile men in suits and the most influential people in football, you can’t hold back your genuine smile as soon as Alexia scores a last-minute goal, securing her team the victory.

You’ll always be Alexia’s supporter, even if that’s the only role you’ll ever play in her life.

fine.

[drabbles-mc]

We Were Just Leaving

Bucky Barnes x F!Reader

Warnings: 18+, smut (protected p in v), language, alcohol, strangers to lovers

For Week 2 of Hot Bucky Summer: "What should I call you?"

Word Count: 6.3k

A/N: my first time ever writing smut for bucky. it truly is a Hot Bucky Summer! 😂 biggest thanks to @buckybarnesevents for putting on this event! endless appreciation for all of your hard work 💞 maybe i'll write more for these two in this event if another prompt strikes inspo for them 👀

Going out on your own to get a drink and decompress after a long week had sounded like a great idea until about three minutes ago. Ever since then you’d been silently kicking and cursing yourself for not taking up your coworkers on their Happy Hour offer. The last thing you’d wanted to do after the way your week had gone was socialize, even with coworkers that you generally liked and got along with.

But now that seemed like the greatest thing in the world compared to the situation you were about to find yourself in. Theo from the finance department and his same half a dozen jokes seemed like a dream to be across a table from compared to your ex who had just walked through the door of the bar you were at.

“Shit,” you muttered under your breath.

You had less than a couple minutes to try and scamper out before he saw you. And the only reason you had that kind of time at all was because the bar was busy and it would take longer to spot you in the midst of everyone. But the second that your ex got up to the bar with his buddies to order drinks, your cover would be blown.

You dug some cash out of your purse, tossing enough onto the top of the bar to cover the one drink you’d ordered so far and the tip for the bartender. You were zipping your bag back up as you were hopping off the stool that you’d been sitting on. Your eyes were fixed on your purse, frustrated that this was the one time that the zipper decided to jam. The whole time you were straining your ear to make sure that you could hear how close your ex was, trying to hear his voice or his laughter.

“Fuck,” you were trying to weave your way through the crowd but the clusters and groups of friends all lingering and waiting for their chance to slink up to the bar and order were all packed tightly. You didn’t remember when this spot became a popular place to be. You huffed, trying to say, “Excuse me,” loud enough for people to hear you but not so loud that it came across as rude or drew any real attention to you.

A pocket of space opened up and you were more relieved than you should’ve been. Clutching your bag tight to you, you took long, measured strides to try and slip through the small groups of people that had parted ways just enough for you to sneak through. You were almost to the other side of them, almost out of what would be an easy range for your ex to see you, when someone took a step backwards as they laughed and inadvertently bumped right into you.

The fact that it was an accident did nothing to soothe your nerves. Them stepping back sent you stumbling mid-stride and bumping right into someone sitting at one of the few small high-top tables that the bar had scattered around. You felt a hand on your back and the heat flaring up in your face and you were already sputtering out five different apologies at once before you’d even fully turned around to face the person you’d bumped into.

When you looked at his face, all the words stopped cascading past your lips. Still white-knuckling your purse, still feeling like your face and throat were on fire from embarrassment, you found yourself incapable of looking anywhere but at the icy blue eyes staring back at you.

He didn’t look happy about you bumping into him, per se, but he didn’t look as angry or annoyed as other people in the bar might’ve been. No drinks were spilled in the process, which was a bonus. He raised his eyebrows slightly as he looked at you, but his expression was otherwise neutral.

“S-sorry,” you finally forced out, clear but still uncertain.

He shook his head. “It’s fine.”

“Okay.” You nodded, knowing that you should be forcing your feet to carry you away, but you were locked in place.

His eyebrows went from raised to pinched together. Apparently, he took your hesitancy to leave as you not believing his simple reassurance. “Really,” he emphasized with a small nod, “it’s fine. You can go—seemed like you were in a rush anyway.”

Your eyes widened slightly at that, the full scope of the situation coming back to you. You cleared your throat. “Right. Thanks. Thank you. Sorry. I’m just gonna—” you were halfway to motioning over your shoulder when a vaguely familiar voice blared like an airhorn in your ear.

“Well look who it is!”

Turning to look over your shoulder, your stomach dropped. It wasn’t your ex, but you knew that he was going to run right back to your ex and tell him that you were here. Even if you tried to bolt it wasn’t going to do you any good. You were in it now.

“Hey,” you said, keeping it short, trying to make your tone as unenthusiastic as possible.

“Oh, Ricky’s gonna be stoked that you’re—”

“I was just—”

He waved you off. “Wait right here—I’ll go grab him.”

“Don’t—” It didn’t matter what you were going to say next because he was already taking back off towards the bar. You let out a deep sigh. “Fuck.”

You’d nearly forgotten the man stuck in the middle of all this until he spoke up again. “So, who’s Ricky?” There was a hint of amusement to his voice despite the fact that his expression hadn’t changed much at all.

You shook your head. “Whatever you’re already thinking, just go with that,” you said with a shake of your head.

“Rough.”

You had to laugh at the simple response. “Yeah. That’s why I was, you know,” you gestured vaguely towards the door that you had previously been trying to get to as quickly as possible.

You shook your head again, unable to do anything else. Each second that passed you could feel the anxious jitters building. You had no interest in talking to him ever again, and you knew that if he started talking to you, it was going to be nearly impossible to get out of it. That’s just how he was. You were so deep in thought and oncoming panic that you hadn’t noticed the way you were gnawing the inside of your lip until you felt a slight sting from it.

Turning to look at the man who hadn’t asked for any of this, you said, “You don’t owe me a favor, but do you think you could still do one for me?”

He shook his head, “I’m not gonna beat up—”

That got a genuine laugh out of you. “No, no. I mean, I bet you could. But just, can you pretend that we were here together and that we were leaving? I just, I need an exit strategy.”

“What, you want me to pretend to be your new boyfriend so your old one will leave you alone?”

“You don’t have to be my boyfriend. Just, be some friend that wanted to grab a drink with me. And get me the fuck out of here. Please.”

The pause that ensued didn’t give you anything resembling hope. But he must’ve taken just enough pity on you because his shoulders dropped as he sighed. “Alright, fine.”

Relief coursed through you even though you were nowhere near through this exchange yet. “Thank you.”

“What should I call you?” he asked.

You gave him a confused look. “My…my name, I guess?”

Your face and the tone of your response had him feeling whatever embarrassment you’d been battling with earlier when you bumped into him. He saw it all over your face then, and he was certain that you could see it all over his face now. The whole situation was much simpler about sixty seconds ago when you were the more flustered one in the scenario. Now he was the one in uncertain territory. He didn’t know why he asked it like that, but it was what had come out of his mouth when he tried to ask you for your name. It crossed his mind for a moment that maybe you’d bumped into the wrong person to get you out of this mess but it was too late now.

“Yeah. Um, enlighten me?” The laugh that you let out at that wasn’t a cruel one, which was the only reason he didn’t double-down on his embarrassment. You were amused, perhaps even a little relieved. After all, you could’ve just told him your name in response to his first question. As it stood, you told him now and he nodded. “Right.”

You figured you should know his too. “What’s—”

You didn’t get to finish the question let alone get the answer before your ex and his friend reappeared in front of you. They each had a drink in their hand and smug smiles on their faces. The reality of what had you asking ridiculous favors of a stranger you’d only known for about five minutes suddenly crashed down over you again. The knot in your stomach was back with a vengeance as you looked at the man in front of you, knowing that he was feeling none of the dread that you currently were.

“I didn’t believe it when he told me,” Ricky spoke up, nodding in the direction of his friend. “Thought you were still avoiding me.”

You forced yourself to swallow past the lump in your throat. “I tried to tell him that we were just taking off,” you replied, hating how defeated you sounded.

The smug look on your ex’s face disappeared instantly when he heard the word we. It was only then that he realized you were standing right next to a man. A man whose name you still didn’t know but he didn’t know that part.

“We?” Ricky repeated. “Well, care to introduce us?”

You tried not to let your panic show on your face. At this point you were ready to just give this random stranger you’d met in a bar an equally random name and apologize for it later. You barely registered the sound of his chair scraping against the floor as he pushed it away from the table and stood himself up from it.

Fighting the uncertainty out of your voice, you said, “This is—”

He cut you off by putting himself between you and Ricky, holding his hand out for the man to shake in the process. “James,” he said as he nonchalantly slipped his free hand into yours. It wasn’t a gesture you’d been expecting, but you weren’t going to go against it either. There was something reassuring about the callouses of his palm against your skin as he threaded your fingers together. When he broke off the handshake with your ex, he gave a small tilt of his head and said, “Ricky, right?”

You knew that you weren’t doing a good job at all at hiding the pleased and surprised look on your face. The feeling only intensified when you saw the way it through Ricky completely off-kilter, whatever hand he had been planning on playing now no longer available to him.

He cleared his throat, and you noticed the way he adjusted, tightened his grip on the glass he was holding. He tried to recover from the temporary upset. “So, you’ve heard about me, then?” he asked, the look on his face letting you know that he considered it to be a good thing.

You were rolling your eyes and about to come back with something when James beat you to the punch. “Unfortunately, yeah.”

You tried to suppress the smile that wanted to take over your face but you weren’t sure if you did. You found yourself giving James’s hand a light squeeze, instinctively placing your other hand in the center of his back.

Ricky was trying to sputter out a response and James didn’t let him get a single coherent word out. “Like she said,” he gave you a small, gentle nudge towards the door, “we were just leaving.”

“I—”

James was already turning around and taking off towards the door. He called back over his shoulder, more nonchalant than your ex could ever hope to be, “Nice meeting you, Ricky.”

You were glad that the music and general chatter of the bar was hiding the sound of your laughter as the two of you made your way towards the door. Navigating the crowds was so much easier when you were attached to a man built the way that he was—funny how that seemed to work. The two of you were able to quickly maneuver your way to and out the door.

There was no better sound in the world to you than your boots hitting the concrete sidewalk outside the bar. The relief of being out of there was more than you were able to say in the moment, so instead you just kept laughing as you instinctively headed in the direction on the sidewalk that would eventually lead back to your apartment.

In that moment, there was no better sound in the world to James than the sound of you laughing. You were thanking him as the two of you walked away, and he was content to follow you under the guise of being committed to the little ruse you’d put together, to getting you far enough away from the bar to be considered out of the danger zone. He wondered if you, in the midst of your relief, even noticed that you were still holding onto his hand. He certainly still noticed.

You stopped suddenly and turned to look at him, eyes wide. “Oh, shit,” you gasped.

He looked over his shoulder, expecting your reaction to be because your ex had followed the two of you, or something similar. “What?”

You gestured back towards the bar. “Your drink! We didn’t pay—”

His laughter stopped you short. Shaking his head he said, “I was paid up.”

Your shock and tension both disappeared. “Oh. Okay.” It was then that you realized you were still holding his hand. You let go immediately, face warm as you let out a nervous laugh. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay.”

The two of you stood on the sidewalk, a few inches separating you as you faced each other. “So,” you started, the awkwardness that had previously disappeared rearing its head again, “James your real name or just something you made up so my ex can’t stalk you on Facebook or something?”

He laughed and shook his head. “I don’t have Facebook. But yeah, it’s my real name. You,” he cracked a tiny grin, “you can call me Bucky, though.”

You smiled. “Bucky? That, you know, that what I should call you?” you joked.

He laughed, head tilting back slightly as did. He felt the way his face heated up at that and he just hoped that it was dark enough outside to hide the fact that he was probably blushing. “Yeah, I guess so.”

Reaching out, you gently placed your hand on the outside of his bicep for all of a moment, not that it stopped him from being able to feel the warmth of your palm through the blue fabric of his henley. “Well, thank you, Bucky. I appreciate it. Sorry if I totally ruined your night.”

“You didn’t,” he said with no hesitation. “Sorry that your ex ruined yours.”

You shrugged, feeling the way that your lips were slowly tugging up into a smile. “Could’ve been worse.”

“Do you have plans right now?” Bucky asked, unsure of where the question came from or how it got out past his lips.

You chuckled, shaking your head. “I was just planning on going home. Why? Have better plans in mind?”

It took him no time at all to realize that he’d walked himself into this with no idea where he was going with it. He knew that he had a decent poker face but even so he had a feeling you could read him like a book in that moment. And he definitely wasn’t reading like a mystery novel.

“I didn’t know if…you know…” he trailed off for a moment, “Wanna get…coffee? Or something?”

You chuckled and gave a small shrug. “Sure. Coffee sounds good.” You started to walk. “Or something.”

He quickly strode to catch up with you. “Got a place in mind?”

You laughed as you looked over at him. “Well, it didn’t seem like you did.”

It could’ve been a much more embarrassing call out if there hadn’t been such a warm look in your eyes. The only thing that he could think to do in the moment was follow you, so that was exactly what he did.

You couldn’t remember the last time that an invitation for a simple cup of coffee had suddenly caused an entire night to slip by. You didn’t even end up drinking all your coffee, too wrapped up in the conversation that you were having with Bucky. Funny that at the start of your evening you’d figured that a night alone was what you’d been needing, and yet sitting across from Bucky at a little café table, going wherever the conversation strayed to, left you feeling better than any number of nights by yourself at a bar or at home.

Bucky was fairly certain that he could talk to you all the way until the sun came back up again. He was also fairly certain that that fact had nothing to do with the caffeine from the coffee he’d had. His cup was empty, but he still found himself toying with it in his hands as the two of you talked. He didn’t know when the last time he got coffee with someone was. At least, someone who wasn’t Steve or Sam or Nat. This felt so foreign and new, yet there was something so familiar about you.

The pair of young twenty-somethings who were working at the coffee shop didn’t exactly tell you both to leave, didn’t exactly kick you out. But you both noticed the way that they were starting to wipe down the counter and tables and you knew better than to be the people who stayed right up until the last minute. Even though this time, you really wanted to. Getting a few more minutes with Bucky almost seemed worth it.

When the two of you were back out on the sidewalk once more, you turned to face him. The jitters you’d had when you left the bar hours before were gone, but there was a new feeling in its place. Similar but different. More excitement, more curiosity, more hope. You didn’t know what to do about it, though, didn’t know what to say to articulate those feelings.

“Well,” you finally said with a soft laugh, “now I really took up your whole night.”

The smile that Bucky gave you was charming enough to nearly have your knees knocking together. “Not the whole night.”

You hummed in amusement. “Then I’ll let you go before it turns into that.”

He tucked his hands into the front pockets of his jeans. “You’re alright getting home?”

You smiled and nodded. “Yeah. I’m only a couple blocks away.”

“I can walk you,” he offered.

You should’ve hesitated at least a little bit, but you didn’t. “That’d be nice.”

The two of you fell into stride beside each other. The first little stint was silent, but not uncomfortably so. You couldn’t speak for Bucky, but you knew that you were trying to figure out what was going to happen when you made it to the main door of your apartment building. You also knew, though, that no amount of overthinking it now was going to make it any easier to navigate then. So, you did what the two of you had been doing successfully for the last few hours, and picked a new topic out of thin air to talk about.

By the time you reached your building, you were walking so close to Bucky that your arm was practically pressed against his. He didn’t seem to mind—it wasn’t as though he was trying to pull away. Every now and then when you laughed, you’d give him a playful little bump, shoulder to shoulder, and Bucky had to fight the urge to drape his arm around you and pull you closer.

Stopping in front of one of the many tall brick buildings on the block, you nodded towards the door before opening your purse to find your keys. “This is me.”

Even though you’d hold him that you were only a couple of blocks away from the café, he still found himself surprised at how quickly you’d arrived. He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t disappointed that the evening was over so soon. Never mind the fact that the evening had started hours ago, and completely on accident.

It took him a couple seconds longer than it should’ve to realize he was supposed to be saying something to you. “Oh,” he said, trying not to let his disappointment show, “okay.”

You were smiling as your eyes stayed trained on your purse, still fishing around for your keys. “Thank you for, well, all of it I guess,” you punctuated your sentence with a laugh.

He smiled warmly at you even though you weren’t looking at him yet. “No problem.”

“Ah,” you said as you finally found your keyring. You never thought your purse was all that large and yet you never seemed to find what you needed when you needed it. “Right. Well, I’d, um,” you stammered, wanting to ask and say about twenty different things and unable to decide on a single one of them. Taking a breath to get yourself together, you said, “I had a really good time, despite how all of this started,” you laughed for a moment and so did he, “and it’d be, I don’t know, I’d like to see you again…” you trailed off even though you didn’t mean to.

He smiled, relief and excitement battling it out in his chest. “I’d like that.”

Without giving it a second thought, he pulled out his phone and gave it to you, fumbling his way through asking you for your number. He would’ve been more self-conscious about his lack of grace with it if you hadn’t seemed so eager to type in your name and number.

You held his phone back out to him. “So, yeah, let me know when you’re free.”

He reached to take it back from you. There was the briefest moment of hesitation before you let his phone go, one that got him to look up from where your hands were nearly touching and into your eyes. You let go of his phone, and he slipped it back into the pocket of his jeans, but neither of you took your eyes off the other. Bucky couldn’t help but to notice the way that your teeth pulled just slightly at your bottom lip. He found himself opening his mouth to say something, but no words came out. He could’ve let it all die out there, or he could’ve let himself succumb to the nerves of not being able to conjure up something to say, but instead he found himself choosing a third option that he hadn’t even thought was available to him.

Stepping in and closing the tiny strip of space left between you, Bucky pressed his lips to yours. It was gentle, and brief. He pulled away when you’d barely gotten past the shock of him kissing you at all. You saw the way his eyes were searching yours, looking for the cue to either get lost or come back for more. The moment of silence terrified him, almost had him sputtering out an apology.

Then you closed the gap and kissed him again. A little more conviction, a palm resting against his chest. It was a minor miracle that you hadn’t dropped your keys to the ground as he kissed you back. His hand came up and cupped your cheek, palm warm against you despite the chilly night air.

When you pulled away, you couldn’t hide that it’d left you a little breathless. His hand was still cupping your face and it had you smiling wide enough to make your cheeks ache. Fidgeting with the keys in your hand, you forced yourself to speak. You purposely ignored how soft and breathy your voice was.

“You can come up if you want,” you offered.

You were just far enough away from him to see the surprise that crossed his features. “Yeah?”

You nodded, keenly aware of the way his hand felt on your face as you did. “Yeah.”

The slowness of the elevator in your apartment building was usually something that served to be a mild annoyance for you. However, this time, you wished that it would’ve taken longer to climb up to the fifth floor where your apartment was. Hell, you would’ve been fine if it had gotten stuck if it meant you had a few more moments with Bucky keeping you pressed against the wall, his lips capturing yours over and over again.

It was the singular chime that broke the two of you apart, the alert that you’d arrived at your floor. The walk from the elevator door to your apartment door was a short one but it felt tragically long when you had Bucky behind you with his hands on your hips and his lips on your neck. You had no idea how you managed to get your key into the lock so that the two of you could get inside, but you did it.

You closed and locked the door behind you once you were inside. Out of habit you reached and flicked the lights on. Bucky still had one hand on the small of your back, using the other to deftly undo the laces on his boots so he could toe them off beside your door where the rest of your shoes had been tossed haphazardly as the weeks had passed by.

You’d hardly dropped your purse and keys off when he was pressed up against you again, his chest flush against your back. You sucked in a tiny gasp as your body melted back into him. You wanted to say something but the second he was pulling the collar of your shirt to the side and pressing his lips to your shoulders, whatever pleasantries you’d been thinking of went completely out the window.

 Even though you knew your apartment like the back of your hand, had navigated through it in the dark and after nights out when you had more than a few drinks, you nearly found yourself stumbling as you walked through the lit-up room with Bucky attached to you.

Once the two of you were in your bedroom, Bucky put his hands on your hips and spun you around so that you were facing him. He wasted no time as he leaned in and kissed your lips, like the few minutes of being unable to had been hours instead. His hands trailed their way up to your face, palms warm and rough to the touch all at once. Keeping his lips on yours, he walked you back towards your bed. You were reaching for the bottom hem of his shirt just as the backs of your legs pressed against the side of your mattress.

Bucky indulged you, assisting you in peeling his shirt off over his head and tossing it aside. Any time that you would’ve spent standing there gawking at him was quickly stolen away as he pressed himself close to you again, firmly but gently getting you back onto the bed.

Every movement felt like it fed so easily into the next. The pair of you were nothing but wandering hands and ragged breaths as you stripped the clothes off each other. The floor was littered with them but neither of you cared. Bucky was down to his boxers, you your bra and panties. He had you pinned underneath him but it didn’t stop his hands from roaming everywhere they could. They wandered across your stomach, up and down your thighs, grazing over your chest. Every touch and graze had you pressing yourself into him more and more, teeth pulling at his bottom lip as you let out little whines and whimpers of encouragement.

You could feel the effect that it had on him. No amount of wanting to feel every inch of you underneath his fingertips could stop him from grinding his hips against yours. He couldn’t remember the last time someone had him feeling so desperate so quickly—he didn’t know if there ever had been a last time.

Like you could hear his thoughts, Bucky felt your fingers curling over the edge of the waistband of his boxers. You started pushing them down his hips and Bucky had no intention of stopping you. He quickly kicked them off the rest of the way before his fingertips dragged down your stomach until they slipped underneath the waistband of your panties. The lightest brush of his fingers had you bucking into his hand and whatever plans he’d had to drag this out no longer mattered. He easily pulled the flimsy fabric down your legs, making quick work of it as you lifted your legs to help.

It took every last shred of Bucky’s self-control to not just slip right into you. The way you had your legs wrapped around his waist would’ve made it so easy to do. He kissed you, neediness bleeding from his lips to yours as his hands continued to trace lines up and down your thighs.

 “Do you have—” Pulling away just enough so that your lips weren’t touching anymore, but not so much that you couldn’t feel his breath on your skin as he spoke. He managed to get out half the question he had before you cut him off.

“Top drawer,” you answered, already knowing where it was going.

The chuckle he let out got a smile out of you. The awkwardness and discomfort that occasionally accompanied first-time hookups was nowhere to be found. He pressed a brisk kiss to your lips before leaning and reaching over for the handle of the top drawer of your nightstand. You took advantage of the momentary position of vulnerability that he was in, lifting your head to kiss and then suck a mark where his neck met his shoulder. You heard the groan he let out, but more than that you could feel it as you kept your lips pressed there.

Him quickly tearing the foil of the condom with his teeth shouldn’t have been as hot as it was, and yet you found yourself staring. He caught it, too, and the smirk on his face would’ve made your knees week if you’d been standing rather than on your back beneath him.

You watched him roll the condom on, biting down so hard on your lip you were surprised that you didn’t draw blood. Your eyes slowly traveled their way back up his torso until you were looking into his. The eagerness, the tension in his body could be felt in all the places the two of you were connected. Even so, he still waited for one more yes from you.

The yes he was waiting for came in the form of you putting your hand on the back of his neck and pulling him down into a kiss, in the way you wrapped your legs a little tighter around him and pulled him in closer to you. You felt the way that he instantly gave in, slowly pushing into you as you moaned into his mouth at the sensation. You felt the way that he smiled into your kiss as your nails bit down into the flesh of his neck and shoulder.

“Fuck,” he rasped out, lips brushing against yours as he spoke. He took a moment to revel in it, the feeling of being buried into you so that his hips were flush against yours.

Moving your hand from the back of his neck so that it was cupping his chin, you pulled him back into another kiss. You felt each little hum and moan that he let out as he started to thrust into you, his arms on either side of your head caging you in. He kept himself pressed tightly to you, leaving your hands to wander the broad, muscular expanse of his back. The way you moaned his name, the moments when you’d rake your nails down his back, let him know that he was pushing you closer and closer to the edge.

He peeled himself off you, separating his chest from yours. You longed for the contact as soon as it was gone, but before you could think too much on it, he moved one of your legs so that it was draped over his shoulder. When he picked up his rhythm once more, you were grabbing onto his hips before you even knew what you were doing, begging him not to stop like he’d ever even dream of that in the first place.

Your leg was starting to tremble against his shoulder. Instinctively he turned and pressed a kiss to the side of your calf as he continued to thrust into you. Your grip on him tightened as you breathlessly moaned, “Just like that.”

A few more thrusts just like that and you were coming undone around him. He soaked in every moment of it, the feeling of you, the way you cried out his name, the way your body arched and tensed before going pliant.

He was chasing right after you, after that same high. He was nearly there and the soft, needy way you whined out, “Bucky,” in the waves of aftershock sent him clean over the edge. His hips stuttered as he came, your name tumbling from his lips. He collapsed against you, face buried in the crook of your neck as your legs went back to looping around his waist, keeping him pulled tight and still inside you.

You weren’t sure if it was your own heartbeat that you were feeling thudding in your chest or his, but you supposed it didn’t matter. Both of you were fighting to catch your breath, bodies practically melting into each other’s. You wrapped your arms around him, hands gentle on his back where just minutes before you’d been digging your nails into the cords of muscle there. He kissed the column of your throat, the little bit of stubble that was growing in feeling extra ticklish in your sensitive state, enough to get you to giggle and twitch at the sensation.

Once he’d gotten a little bit of his breath back, he propped himself up enough to look at you properly. “You okay?”

You laughed, unable to do anything else but that and nod for a moment. Finally, you said, “I’m great, yeah.” It got a chuckle out of him as you reached and trailed your fingertips down his cheek. “You okay?”

He nodded before leaning in and kissing you. “I’m great.” A few more moments passed in comfortable silence, the two of you just taking in the sight and state of each other. You noticed the small shifts in his expression, and you waited for whatever was coming next. “Um,” he looked over towards the door of your bedroom, “where’s your…so I can…”

You laughed, head dropping back against your pillow. “Out the door and to the left.”

He chuckled, a blush creeping over his cheeks. “Thanks. I’ll be, you know, right back.”

You afforded him the illusion of privacy as he searched and grabbed his boxers off the floor and scampered off to your bathroom. You chuckled as you managed to get yourself out of bed, making your way over to your dresser on wobbly legs to you could grab your own shirt to sleep in. You were back in bed and under the covers by the time Bucky came back.

When he got back to your bedside, he reached down and grabbed his shirt off the floor. He didn’t make an immediate move to put it on, instead just holding it loosely in his hand. “I can—”

“Stay,” you didn’t even want him to put the idea of leaving out into the universe. Not after the night the two of you had just had. “I mean,” you laughed softly, “if you want. I’d like that.”

There was no hesitation as he dropped his shirt to the ground. “Okay.”

He easily shimmied down underneath the covers beside you. You curled into him, allowing his arm to slip beneath you and pull you tighter so that your head was resting on his chest. You could feel the warmth of his skin, the thrumming of his heartbeat. You also started to feel not just the tiredness in your muscles from everything that had just happened, but also the exhaustion of how late it was now.

The same tiredness was present in Bucky’s voice as he spoke, words partially mumbled as he spoke them into your hair. “Light’s still on out there.”

“Leave it,” you replied words equally mumbled as you said them with your lips partially pressed against his chest. “I’ll worry about it tomorrow.”

The hum of amusement that he made let you know that he wasn’t going to worry about it now either. Draping his other arm around you, he slipped his hand underneath your shirt so that his hand was splayed across the center of your back and keeping you tight to him. Nestling farther into him, you rested your palm on his chest as you finally let yourself start drifting off to sleep.

(divider by @saradika-graphics 💞)

MCU Taglist: @garbinge @beardburnsupersoldiers @artemiseamoon @late-to-the-party-81 (If you want to be added to any of my taglists please let me know! xo)

[m0nsterqzzz]

The Three Times Natasha Proposed to You and the One Time You Said Yes

pairing: Natasha Romanoff x reader

summary: your girlfriend has a habit of proposing, and you have a habit of saying no.

a/n: I was gonna do this with katniss but decided it worked better with my favorite spy and also its been way to long since I wrote for herrrrrr ahhhh anyway, I LOVE HER YOUR HONOR

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The first time Natasha proposed to you, you had only known her for 18 hours.

You were new to the team. So new in fact that you only knew three people’s names at a table with eight people since the other five were too busy all day to introduce themselves. Dinner was awkward, for you at least, as everyone else was busy chatting about their days with each other. They’re laughing, the bond they all share clear as joy feels the air.

You don’t feel that joy.

It’s not like you’re not happy to be here; you’re insanely grateful that Fury was willing to see past your history and allow you to join forces such as the incredible ones around you, but you just don’t feel very welcomed.

You don’t blame the team. After all, it’s only the first day, and Fury already told you about the fact that most of the people on that team aren’t very warm and friendly. It does kind of bug you though, how now the people you’re not familiar with even seem to notice your presence in the group.

It’s just the first day. Things will get better. You repeat for the 100th time, eyes trained on the table as you spoon some more of the food that was in the kitchen when Jarvis called for you into your mouth. It’s chicken over rice, a simple recipe, but the chicken is covered in some type of delicious sauce that you can’t get enough of.

“Is the food okay? It’s my family's recipe.” A girl with brunette hair and jade colored eyes sitting across from you speaks, nervously smiling as she pushes her fork around the food on her plate. She’s young, younger than everyone else on the team, and it makes you feel a bit better about being new as you remember what Fury said about her only joining about half a year ago.

You give a hesitant smile, answering honestly; “Oh…yeah. I love it. It’s delicious.” 

The girl smiles brighter, reaching across the table to hold out her hand for you to shake. “It’s nice to officially meet you. Fury’s told me alot about you. I’m Wanda.”

“All good things I hope.” You giggle before introducing yourself, and she laughs along with you before you both go back to eating. The rest of the team slowly introduces themselves, and out of the corner of your eye you go see the way Wanda cringes when they only do it after she gave an example.

Even if they only did it once the girl made them realize, you still feel a bit more comfortable here then you did a while ago.

You notice Wanda eyeing your rings as you guys continue to eat, so you put your hand on the table in between you too. Her eyes shoot up to you in surprise, clearly not knowing that you noticed it. “Sorry for the staring. I just…I really like your rings. I love wearing them myself and I’ve never seen any like that. They’re beautiful.”

That’s how you guys start up in a conversation about rings, and then a few minutes later you’re sliding off one of your rings to give to her. She seems like the nicest person here, and you can already tell you’re going to be great friends. When you get it off, it accidently flies out of your hand, bouncing on the table before it falls off and lands somewhere on the floor. You turn red in embarrassment at the way everyone falls silent, staring at you in amusement before a redheaded woman slides out of her seat and kneels down on one knee to search for the item.

You met her earlier when you went to the gym to train, and she even helped you learn a few awesome fighting moves before she left to let you do your own thing. You can’t deny that Natasha is beautiful.

The woman smiles when she finds it, grasping the metal in her hand before she turns to face you, still on one knee as she holds it out for you to take as if she’s proposing.

If she notices the way it looks, she doesn’t say anything until Tony, the man you met when he blew up a lab earlier, laughs and mumbles under his breath, “I’m not paying for that wedding.”

You giggle, watching as Natasha stands up and turns to glare at him before facing you once again and putting it on the table near your plate. “Shut up Tony.” She mumbles before sitting back down in her own seat, and you say before shoving food into your mouth when the embarrassment sets in, “I’m not ready to settle down. Sorry Nat.”

Everyone just chuckles, and you are left with a small smile and new found happiness.

The second time she’d done it, she’d almost had you fooled that it was real.

You and her had been dating for three months, and you guys were absolutely inseparable. You’ve learned a lot about her in the year you’ve been an Avenger, and she sometimes opens up about her past. Her little sister, the red room, Dreykov.

Anyway, Fury had sent you on a mission with her, your best friend Wanda, and Steve Rogers to go and steal a flash drive from a destroyed hydra base then find some place quickly to look at what's on it. He said to find the nearest place as people would already be on the search for us, so that's why you got Nat to pull over at a mall. Not for clothes or a new pair of shoes, but to go into one of the electronic stores and use one of their computers to read what's on the file.

It was easy until Natasha noticed one of the workers looking at Steve in suspicion as they see him inserting the drive into one of the computers, and you’re about to abort the mission before your girlfriend grabs your hands and tugs you to the middle of the store, dropping into one knee and glancing at Wanda. The witch seems to get the hint even though you don’t understand what's happening, but you do when the young girl uses her magic to make a ring appear in Natashas hand. It’s beautiful, but you can tell it’s just an illusion to fool the people around you as small red whisps surround your best friend's hands.

“I’ve loved you since the day I met you.” The redhead starts, loud enough to attract the attention of everyone in the store but too loud as to not seem unusual. “I know you’re having my brother's baby,” She continues with that most serious face you’ve ever seen, and you have to try your hardest not to burst out laughing. “But I can treat you better than he ever could.”

The whole crowd of people in the store are now focused on you, even the workers which gives Steve the time he needs to enter the hard drive into one of the computers and read what's on it.

“So what do you say hottie? You wanna do this or not? Marry me?” You stare at her for a few minutes, eyes glancing at the blonde haired man who silently laughs at the scene in front of him before sending you a thumbs up to show he’s done and you guys can go.

“No!” Everyone quietly gasps, all looking away as Natasha fakes offense. “No! What the fuck? What kind of proposal is this? I’m just trying to buy a new phone, Stacy! And you’ve got a huge barbecue stain on that sweater. This is truly the best you could do?”

You're having way too much fun with it as you scoff before gently slapping her, trying your hardest not to laugh at the way everyone gasps even louder while you storm out.

Your friends and girlfriend quickly catch up with you, and you all finally burst out laughing by the time you’re getting in the car and driving away from the mall right as some scary looking military vehicle pulls up to the building. “Did you have to slap me?” Natasha laughs out, the ring box Wanda had magically created is now gone as she sits next to you in the back seat. “I feel like you enjoyed that way too much.”

“I did enjoy it. I’m also just practicing for the day you do propose to me.” She lets out a fake annoyed groan, slinging an arm over your shoulder as she pulls you to lay against her side.

Despite the playful mood, you can’t help but feel a fluttery feeling in your chest and a warm blush coating your face at the thought of being married to this girl. Little did you know, she was feeling the exact same.

When she did it a third time, it almost seemed like it was second nature for her to pull out a ring box and propose to you. 

You had just got back to the Avengers tower after a lunch date, and she froze on the doorstep when she realized you were no longer beside her. She turns in circles, panic filling her when she doesn’t see you. She’s a spy for fuck sakes, how could she have not noticed something happening to you.

 Her panic fades when you pop out from behind a thick tree, a snowball made from the small amount of snow on the grass in hand as you send her a mischievous smile. She doesn’t have any time to move before you’re launching it in her direction, practically falling over with laughter as it hits her forehead and then breaks into pieces.

The redhead still seems a bit shocked, but she quickly gets over it as she groans with a grin and runs over to harshly tackle you to the ground. It knocks the wind out of you, but you’re both still laughing so hard your stomach hurts as she grabs some snow from beside your head and then lets it fall onto you. “You wanna play that fucking game? Oh we can play that game honey.”

You shake your head, but the bright smile on your face tells her that you’re not actually scared. “No. I’m sorry Tasha. We can talk this out.” When she makes a, “tsk…tsk” noise with her mouth, you use all your strength to push her off of you, sprinting towards your home even though you can hear the sound of Natasha’s boots hastily crunching the snow beneath them as she runs after you.

She wraps her arms around your waist, easily picking you up off the ground and spinning you around. As cringy as it is, your laugh makes her laugh, and the moment is so perfect as she slowly lets you down so she can look you in the eyes.

“Wait a second.” Natasha mumbles, before grabbing something from her pocket, telling you to turn around for a minute while she makes you a surprise. You draw shapes in the snow in the meantime, your fingers practically numb but by the time you’re done, every planet is drawn into the frozen canvas. “Alright. Turn around.” She speaks again, and your smile grows- if possible- at the sight.

She’s messily formed a ring with the wrapper from a straw at dinner, and now she’s balanced on one knee in the icy snow as she grins up at you. “Will you marry me, and be mine forever?”

You pretend to think about it for a moment, finally holding at your left hand for her to put the ring on as you yell out, “Of course I’ll marry you!”

The russian girl laughs, once again picking you up to twirl you around before she sets you down to kiss you easier.

From a window high up in the Avengers tour, Wanda watches the interaction while drinking her tea and then closing her curtains. “When is she gonna do it for real?” She whispers to herself, already so done with the fact that Natasha has proposed to you three times, and yet she hasn’t been able to wear a pretty bridesmaid dress in her whole live.

The day Natasha proposed in the privacy of the cabin Tony’s letting you borrow for a weekend, twinkling lights dressing the living room and the dining table decorated with candles, rose petals and fancy wine that’s probably from Pepper, was the time you know she wasn't kidding.

As the sun sets behind the clouds, you and Natasha sit across from each other with your free hands hooked together beside your plates. The setting sun casts gentle rays upon your face from the window, illuminating your features with a golden light. You two share a quiet, comfortable silence for a moment before she looks up from her plate to you, a smile gracing her lips. You look at Natasha, heart beating softly in your chest from the soft, gentle atmosphere of the moment. She lets go of her fork to use that hand to grab ahold of your other hand, your fingertips intertwined gently. Your eyes meet across the table, and for a second it’s just you guys in the world. 

The girl then speaks, her words sincere and clear, as she makes her proposal. "I want to spend the rest of my life with you; I’ve wanted to since the first date we went on. I was scared though…..scared of finding someone I love in a world that could take it away so easily. But now….now I realize. It doesn’t matter. As long as I get to be with you for what time we have left, it’s worth it. So," she says softly, tilting her head to the side and smiling as she grabs a ring box from her pocket and opening it so you can see the diamond ring inside before standing up from her seat so she can get down on one knee next to the table. 

"Will you marry me?" 

The question hangs in the air as you gaze into the girl's eyes and processes the words. Your mind reels from the unexpectedness of it all, but you also can't help the surge of joy welling in her chest.

“Yes. Yes of course I will!” Her grin brightens, and she’s still kneeled as she wraps her arms around your waist to hug you as tight as she can. You join her on your knees so you’re on her level, grabbing her face with both hands and pulling her into a passionate kiss. You would’ve married her the first time she asked, but you’re somehow glad you waited until now to say yes. This is perfect.

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[shockercoco]

An Honorary Member

Benny Cross x reader

Warnings - fluff, unwanted advances (like one), some swear words

Word count - 2768

a/n -  request: "please please PLEASE do something ANYTHING for benny cross x reader but reader is a sweetheart and is kinda just a goody two shoes..." read the rest of the request here. It's funny how many of your guys wanted this, and of course I had to deliver. I really enjoyed writing this and hopefully this meets your expectations. enjoy :)

“Are you sure it’s okay that I’m coming?” you ask Kathy as she finds a spot on the crowded grass to park.

You look down at your baby pink top, jeans, and white shoes, beginning to second guess your outfit choice. Despite your outfit being basic, you still felt odd amongst all the leather and dark colors. Even Kathy wasn’t wearing anything bright.

“Of course it is. These people don’t care,” Kathy tells as she puts the car in park. “Plus, if it was a problem, Benny wouldn’t have asked you to come.”

Benny loved your outfits. He thought it made you stand out next to him, and he loved that.

“You and I both know he would’ve still invited me if it even if it was a problem,” you point out, causing her to laugh in response.

“Besides you haven’t been around the girls in a while and they're looking forward to seeing you again,” Kathy says.

All the commotion outside could still be heard loud and clear even through the closed windows. You knew about the people Kathy and Benny hung out with and their well known reputation – she was technically the one who introduced you to Benny.

It also wasn’t uncommon for you to see members of the club riding through the streets whenever you were out in public running errands, but you’ve never actually met them. Dating Benny and being friends with some of the guys’ girlfriends was the closest you have gotten to this world. Benny thought it was finally time you meet the club and he thought this outing was the perfect opportunity.

Kathy could see the look of uncertainty on your face as you looked down. “You look fine, don’t worry about it too much. These guys practically wear the same thing all the time, so who are they to judge? Now get the hell out of my car.”

Making sure to grab your homemade cookies from the backseat, you both start heading towards the group. It was your idea to bring the cookies, thinking that it would make it easier for the guys to like you if you brought something to offer. You kind of went overboard and made way too many, though.

As the two of you walk to the table where the girls are, you spot Benny at another table having a smoke and talking to some of the other members.

“You actually came,” one of the girls, whose name you unfortunately forgot, smiled. She jumps up to give you a hug, before taking the cookie-filled container out of your hands, “And you brought goodies.” 

“You would go straight for the food,” Kathy jokes as the girl sits down, allowing others to reach their hand into the container.

The girl shrugs. “Her cookies are the best.”

“It’s been so long since I’ve last seen you,” Gail, whose name you do remember, tells you. You go to sit down next to her, while Kathy sits across from you. “You should come riding with us one time.”

“You ride?” you ask her, your eyebrows raised.

“Well, no not me, but my boyfriend does,” Gail says.

You turn your head as she nods in what you're assuming is her boyfriend’s general direction, but all you notice is Benny walking towards the table.

Benny had noticed your arrival, but Johnny kept running his mouth and he couldn’t find the right time to get away. He eventually just decided to get up and leave because there was no telling if the conversation would ever end, and as of now you were more important to him.

When Benny had first met you it was outside of a bar that basically belonged to the Vandals. You were only there to drop off some money for Kathy for whatever reason because she couldn’t seem to get away.

You were hesitant at first because one: it was the middle of the night, and two: you would be going to a place where all the bikeriders hung out. A bar and a bunch of crazy men didn’t seem like the best combination and you didn’t even understand why Kathy would always go to such a place, but nevertheless she was your best friend, so you felt obligated to go.

You had barely entered the bar when Kathy had come running up to you and thanking you. You were about to tell her it was no problem – even though it most definitely was – but you got distracted by this man coming up behind her.

The tattoos and the unlit cigarette hanging from his lips should’ve been a turn off for you, but you couldn’t help but feel attracted to him. The hair, the way he walked, and the look in his eye just screamed confidence, and you found yourself not being able to look away from him. He gave you a smirk when his eyes found yours, and you immediately looked away as you felt embarrassment flow through your body. 

Yeah, you definitely had to leave.

“Did you want to stay for a drink?” Kathy asked you, breaking you from your thoughts.

“What? Oh, no I should get going. It’s late an–”

“Who’s this?” the man asks Kathy as he approaches the two of you, interrupting your sentence. He removes the cigarette from his mouth and stuffs his hands in the pockets of his leather jacket.

“This is my best friend,” Kathy looks up at him, “and she’s off limits.”

The guy laughs at her statement. “Aren’t you going to introduce me?” he asks her, but he’s looking at you. 

Kathy sighs as she rolls her eyes. “This is Benny,” she tells you before looking back at him, “but it doesn’t really matter because you’re leaving, aren’t you Benny.”

Well if Kathy doesn’t seem to like him, then neither should you. Right?

“Loosen up, Kathy.”

Kathy’s about to say something else, but someone calls her name. She looks behind her before looking back at you Benny. She hesitates for a second before sending Benny a glare and walking away.

“Isn’t it a little late for you to be out by yourself?” Benny asks, looking down at you and giving you this look. A look that gives you butterflies and makes you want to smile, but you resist. His gaze is intense.

“Yes, which is why I’m going home,” you tell him.

“Do you need a ride, I’m on my way out,” he raises an eyebrow. 

“No thanks, I drove here,” you answer.

“Hmm. Well I guess I’ll see you around then,” he smiles. He’s not asking, but telling you.

“I guess so,” you say. 

You don’t know if you’re waiting for him to leave or if he’s waiting on you to make a move first, but you both just stand there for a moment. You don’t know if it’s an awkward or comfortable silence between the two of you, but you can’t handle his eyes on you anymore.

Benny watches you give him a small smile before turning around and exiting the bar. He smiles to himself as he follows you out the door, taking his cigarette and lighter out of his pocket. He watches as you get into the car you parked on the side of the street and drive off, still looking down the street, even when you’re no longer in eyesight.

You were different from him, and he wasn’t sure if it was a good thing or bad thing, but he had to find out. You seemed so gentle and shy, unlike all the other girls that hang around at the bar. Benny felt drawn to you, even though the two of you had only talked for a couple of minutes. The fact that Kathy didn’t want him around  you only egged him on more.

He had to have you.

As you’re having a cup of coffee the next morning, you decide to look out one of your living room windows – something you always do. This time when you move the curtain aside, you almost drop the cup in your hand when you see Benny across the street. He’s leaning against his bike having a cigarette, and you’re wondering how the hell he found you.

And how long has he been out there?

You set your cup down on your living room table before opening the front door. Benny notices the door open and just smirks when he sees you walking down your front steps. He gets up from his position on the bike and walks towards you, flicking his cigarette on the ground.

“What are you doing here?” you ask him once you reach the bottom of your steps, and Benny is standing on the sidewalk. You wrap your sweater tighter around your body as the morning breeze blows past you.

You give him a once-over now that he’s standing in front of you and man does he look good. Why does he look so good? 

“Kathy gave me your address,” he tells you casually.

Your eyes nearly pop out of their head because that is so unlike her. “Are you serious?”

“Yeah,” he nods with amusement, “but don’t be mad at her, I kind of forced it out of her.”

“And you’re here because…?”

“Because I wanted to see you again. I’ve been thinking about you all night,” he tells you. Your heart drops and have to keep your jaw from hanging open because there’s no way.

You wait a second before asking, “How many girls have you said that too?” 

“One,” he smiles at you as he slowly walks towards you. “You.”

That was five weeks ago. You shouldn’t have fallen for that cheesy line, but you did, which is how you now find yourself at this picnic.

“Glad my girl came,” he whispers in your ear as he takes a seat next to you. He smirks as he notices goosebumps popping up along your arm.

“You two make me sick,” Kathy says, but there’s no animosity in her voice. She can’t help but smile as she looks between you and Benny because she’s never seen him like this. Before you, she’s never seen him so…in love. It’s obvious that you have him wrapped around your finger.

Some of the other girls around the table have smiles across their faces too as they witness the interaction too because they can also see the difference in Benny.

“Come on, I want you to meet some of the guys,” he tells you and you nod. He grabs your hand in his as he walks you towards the group of guys he had been talking to when you arrived, feeling kind of nervous as you see all of their eyes on you.

As you approach, one of the older men looks down at your hand connected with his and a grin slowly grows on his lips. He’s sitting at the table while the rest of them either stand around it, or sit on the table top.

“So this is your girl huh, the one you’ve been hiding from us?” the same guy asks.

Benny rolls his eyes. “This is Johnny, he’s in charge of the club.”

“Damn right I am, but that’s not important. It’s nice to finally meet you, sweetheart,” Johnny says as he leans forward and holds his hand out for you to shake. You give him a small smile as you accept his hand.

“We’re here too,” another guy says.

“That’s Cockroach,” Johnny tells you before introducing the rest of them, and pointing out some of the others that are walking around. “And this is Danny, he’s not like everyone else. He’s writing some kind of story or somethin’.”

You turn around to see a guy with a camera hanging around his neck approaching the group, a half eaten cookie in his hand. “Someone made cookies, you guys gotta try them.”

“And you didn’t bring us any? Not cool man,” Cal says.

“Didn’t you make those?” Benny looks down at you, nodding his head towards Danny’s hand.

“Um, yeah.”

“You bake?” Cockroach asks, and you nod.

“Well hand them over so we can try it before they’re all gone,” Johnny says, and you give him a nod before heading back towards the table where the cookies are.

As you’re walking, some drunk guy stumbles his way in front of you, almost bumping into you. Thinking nothing of it since a lot of the men around are wasted, you ignore him and try to go around him. The man doesn’t let you move far though as he grabs your arm and gives you a sly smile. Your face contorts in disgust and you try to jerk your arm away, but his grip is too tight.

“I haven’t seen you around here before, little lady. What’s your name?” he slurs, the smell of alcohol filling your nostrils.

“None of your business,” you tell him. You try to pull your arm away again, but the man’s grip only gets tighter. Your heartbeat picks up as you begin to panic, but there’s too many people around so nothing can happen. Right?

“I like your shirt,” he gives the bottom of your shirt a little tug.

“Stop,” you smack his hand away.

“Come on, don’t be like that, gorgeous. I’m just trying to be nice, the least you could do is tell me your name,” the man steps closer, getting into your face.

“Let me go,” you say sternly, once again trying to move.

“I think you need to be taught some manners,” the man glares at you.

From behind you, Benny sees the altercation going down and begins to come to your aid, but you do something that makes him stop in his tracks.

You smack the man hard, making his head turn to the side. His hand immediately lets go of you to reach up and touch his cheek, the handprint already starting to show.

A few people around who witnessed the scene gasp and laugh. A few whistles and hollers join in.

“You bitch,” he says, his nostrils flaring.

“I guess we both need to be taught some manners,” you spit, no longer feeling shy since there are too many eyes on him.

Apparently, the man notices the stares too because he backs off, but not without giving you one last look.

“Well damn,” Cockroach says amongst the group.

“Got yourself a good one, Benny,” Johnny chuckles, his head falling back. That makes Benny’s heart swell with pride.

“Remind me not to piss her off,” Cal says, his eyes wide.

Kathy comes up to check on you, but you tell her you’re okay. When you come back to the group with the container in your hand, everyone’s looking at you with grins covering their face. Benny shoots you a wink, making your face heat up.

“These aren’t bad at all, you gotta bring these to all the meetings,” Johnny says after taking a bite of his cookie, the guys nodding in agreement.

Now, you don’t know what you were thinking, but the idea of attending meetings hadn’t crossed your mind at all.

You should’ve known because a couple of days later when the club meets at the bar again, you’re right there with them, a few containers of baked goods in your hand. The men don’t waste their time rushing towards you when you first step foot in the bar, making Benny shove his way through the crowd to make sure you don’t get crushed. Surprisingly, though, you don’t mind at all.

“You better wait your turn,” one guy tells another who’s trying to cut in front of him.

“Fuck off,” the man answers and shoves the guy aside.

Benny grabs them both by the neck of their jackets and pulls them back.

“Gentlemen, please, let’s not act like animals,” Johnny calls out.

Word gets out about how good your baking is – and your altercation with that drunk man – causing the bikers to have respect for you. Whenever you need something and Benny’s not around, there’s always someone that volunteers.

If you need a ride to work because your car broke down and Benny’s not able to pick you up, Johnny’s waiting right outside your door. If for some reason, someone dares to shoot their shot at you, it doesn’t take long for the person to get thrown out of the bar. And when you get cold, several of the bikers offer their jackets to you, only for Benny to quickly throw his jacket over your shoulders.

Yeah, you could get used to this.

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[livingdeadgirlflorette]

ARE WE STILL FRIENDS? ₊˚✩⊹ carl grimes x fem!reader

summary : After what happened a few weeks ago, seeing Carl made you anxious. Just looking at him made you ponder what was the thing you had with him. But one visit to a friend of his may just be enough to be the straw that breaks the camel's back.

word count : 4.7k

tags / rundown : average teen angst, fluff, more-than-friends-less-than-lovers trope, glenn and maggie are your substitute parents here, carl has an emotional capacity of a teaspoon, reader and carl are so oblivious oh my word, slight jealous!carl, kissing, sitting on carl's lap, brief mention of teen pregnancy

a / n : hi guys! this is a part 2 for "late night kisses", but it could be read as a stand-alone as well ! i just finished this like 2 hours ago and proofread it, i'm pretty satisfied with how this came out. i really wanted to show how angsty teenager's could be for such trivial things, and i think i showed it pretty well here >_< enjoy reading !

dividers by @cafekitsune 𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅

PART 1: LATE NIGHT KISSES ⊹˚. ♡.𖥔 ݁ ˖

With Rick interrupting your whole secret rendezvous with Carl in his bedroom, and practically telling you he knows about you guys— you wonder how bad it really would be if they did find out about you and Carl.

But there was one question that gets under your skin more than anything. It makes you think if anything between the two of you was more than just what you guys were doing. What were you and Carl?

All this time it has been just Y/N and Carl, inseparable, attached to the hip best friends. Just. Friends. That's an interesting way to state the relationship between the two of you, if just friends sneak around and makeout in their bedroom, and If just friends hold eachother at night, looking into each other's eyes lovingly, never wanting it to end.

It makes you concerned also, what did Carl think about the two of you? You don't what to acknowledge it, but it makes you stomach churn thinking that Carl would think you guys were nothing more than friends that kiss one another every once in a while. Thinking about it just puts a crestfallen, depressed look on your face.

"What's got you down in the dumps for?" A voice snaps you out of your mind question of is-Carl-a-friend-or-something-more crisis, remembering where you are. You're at your dining room table, eating breakfast with Glenn and Maggie. Ever since their group came, you became close with them, subconsciously (whether you wanted to or not) growing a familial bond with them.

They told you multiple times that you were welcome to come and go— so whenever you feel like it, you come to them when you have a problem, or you just don't want to interact with other teenagers in Alexandria. They get too posh-sounding when they talk about trivial things for your liking.

"Oh its uh— y'know it's just nothing." You dismiss the brunette woman's question. Since you and Carl didn't want anybody to know about the two of you, you decided to keep it a secret. And it would be a shame for the both of you if all of that came crashing down just 'cause Maggie had asked why you looked so sad.

"Well nothing doesn't make you of all people look so depressed. Why don't you go to your little boyfriend? He always puts a smile on that face." Glenn suggests, using a teasing sound for the question. You know he's just trying to make you feel better, but the mention of Carl just makes you even more down trodden. But you quickly realize what Glenn titles him as.

With an seemingly unstoppable flush blooming on your face, you quickly try to defend yourself, trying to save face.

"He's not my boyfriend, nor am I his girlfriend. We're nothing really, just friends." You argue. Saying that makes your heart break a little, even if you don't want it to. You play with the food on your plate, seeming uninterested. You just want to curl up into a ball and let time pause for a minute. Everything is just too much right now.

"He may not be your boyfriend per se, but he sure does act like one." Glenn counters, smiling knowingly. Despite every molecule and fiber of your being wanting to defend yourself, he was right. Carl did tend to have tendencies towards you that were too close for comfort on being the role of a lover.

If you ever mentioned a food you'd been missing, or an item so specific that you'd been missing in general, he'd get it for you and act all nonchalant and dismissive when you'd ask how the hell did he get it from (but he'd never tell you how he had almost got surrounded by a herd of walkers trying to get it for you). He would put his hand, hovering ever so slightly on your back when going through a crowded group or when he's behind you.

"We're uhm— I dunno. We're something." You say, moving food around your plate, showing signs of boredom, but no amount of uninterest in your body language could mask the sad look on your face. As much as your answer was adding nothing to the conversation, what you said was sincere. What really were you two? Friends don't sneak into the other's room at night, friends don't straddle each other, and friends definitely don't lock lips with each other. It stumped you, if you were going to be honest.

"Well figure that something out with the boy, okay? It's disheartening watching the two of you walk around like sad little puppies all the time." Glenn finalizes, he finishes his plate of food and walks over to the sink. Unknowingly to him, what he had said made you perplexed. Carl was also blue? As much as it made you feel empathetic for him, it made you wonder why he was also feeling like he had his heart punched out of his chest. You thought what you were feeling was just you, but with him also feeling upset over it, it kind of made you guilty 'cause it felt good knowing that what you were feeling was mutual.

"I actually have an idea, but it's not one of my most proudest. . ." You barely let out, feeling all shy now that you realize you're gonna say it out loud. Glenn was washing his dish, but he turned his head to the side to share a look of curiousity with his wife. They both looked back at you, silently tell you to go on.

"I'm gonna talk to Mikey. He seems to know Carl well enough, and I think maybe he could help me." Without skipping a beat, Maggie had paused the spoon with food that was about to go into her mouth and Glenn paused his movements before they continued doing their actions.

You know it was a silly conclusion, but with all the mood swings you were getting from avoiding Carl, desperate times call for desperate measures. You figured you had no choice anymore, and this was the only thing you thought of. Ever since Carl and his group had been recruited by Aaron, Mikey and the other teens seemed to have grown close with him, and you concluded that maybe he'd know if Carl was acting strange and if he had maybe, possibly told him about you.

But before that ridiculous thought, you pondered if maybe Enid could help you with this debacle, but you know she wouldn't be all that comfortable sharing feelings like that, and she wasn't a person that you could talk to about it. You also knew she'd thank you for saving her from that talk about how Carl made you feel all mushy inside.

Is it a stupid and dumb idea? yes— but as you said yourself, desperate times call for desperate measures. The married couple share a uncertain look with each other, but decide silently they wouldn't press too hard about it.

"And uh, how do you think Carl would feel about that? Y'know, going behind his back and all that?" Maggie suggests, finally finishing her last spoonful before standing up to go to where Glenn is at the sink.

You also thought that while thinking of a solution, but you figured that it would be better off if Carl didn't know. What he doesn't know won't hurt him.

"I . . . I uh– actually don't plan on telling him about it, I don't think he needs to know." You're not really sure if does, also it would be a hell of a lot embarrassing knowing Carl knows that you asked one of his friends about what he thought of you.

"Well, if you're gonna do that just make sure you make it right, okay? He seems like he wouldn't be too grumpy about that, but maybe a little." Maggie tries assuring you, standing up and brushing you hair in passing.

What she says gives you a little assurance, but it doesn't outweigh the fact that you're about to lie to Carl; not by saying something but the opposite actually. Lying by omission had never felt so burdening.

"I'll try." You finish you last spoon and head to the sink. Glenn and Maggie seemed to be readying to go outside. Maybe they were going on a walk together? You're not sure.

"Good. Also don't forget to dry that plate okay? You're thinking too much. From what i've read, it's bad for pretty girls." Glenn tries to joke with you, but it doesn't really work. You thank him for that, despite all the teenage angst you're going through, he still wants to put a smile on your face. It makes you heart feel a little lighter.

"I got it, now go away. Let me wallow in my self pity while I wash the dishes." You joke back with them, both parties laughing a little. Even if you're still feeling bad, all that pep talk with them gave you a feeling of determination. You had to get to the bottom of this before it all came crashing down before you.

You look back at the couple, seeing them walk out the door hand in hand with one another, having such a caring gaze for each other. Observing them made you question you and Carl. Did you want that with him? And if you did, did he also feel the same?

Walking to Mikey's house was an interesting experience, to say the least. With a mantra of affirmations in your mind that spans to saying "everything is gonna be okay" , "don't panic, it's not a big deal" and rubbing your hands up and down your arms a dozen times you're sure you could start a fire by doing it, you finally reach Mikey's house.

It helps you realize you don't even have a plan on what to say. Really, what were you gonna say? 'Hey Mikey, I just wanted to know if Carl said anything about me? Not to dump anything on you but i've been sneaking into his room and making out with him these past few months and his father caught us 2 weeks ago and now im panicking.'?

You rethink your choices, starting to backtrack your decision. But sometimes you just have to calm down— grin and bear it for the sake of needing to get to the bottom of this, before you spiral into a fit of hysteria and isolation.

Your knocks on the door are firm but hesitant, and not long after you see your friend's familliar face. Mikey seemed surprised, and you understood why. You guys were never really that close with one another, with you choosing to hang out with Enid (cause she seemed to understand you too) and him hanging out with Carl and the other boys in the walls. It's justified that he'd be looking like a deer in headlights at the sight of you at their front door.

"Oh, you're the last person I expected to see here. Not in a bad way though, heh. Hey Y/N, you need anything?" Even with the shocked feeling he has, he seems to recover it quickly, putting on a more welcoming, friendly expression.

"Yeah actually, uh— can I come in? I need to talk to you about someone, privately." Your voice comes out meek, frazzled because you haven't really thought out how this conversation would go.

"Uh yeah sure! Come in, come in. I'll uh- I'll ask my father if he's fine with it though, he's just out back and I think he'd be fine with having you over. While i'm talking to him, make yourself at home, okay?" Mikey scrambles to get his words out, it's obvious he feels awkward. But it doesn't stop him from trying to just make it seem like two friends (that's pushing it, better word for you and him would be acquaintances) hanging out. You thank him silently for that, trying to make it seem less awkward than it actually is.

With him going out the back door, you're left to your own devices in his living room. You look around, and there doesn't seem to be anything that interesting. It just looks like any other upper-class house you'd see in Alexandria.

You try to make yourself feel home, sitting down on the couch. Moving from multiple positions on the comfortable cushions, you give up and just fiddle with your fingers. For what feels like an eternity, in his living room, Mikey and his father come in and his father greets you in passing before settling in a chair in the kitchen, busy doing something you can't really see. But before you can really think about it, Mikey comes in and sits next to you.

"I have a glimmer of an idea on why you're here, but I won't say anything unless you want me to." Mikey leans back, getting comfortable. You're confused. How would he of all people know what you were gonna tell him about? It made you feel like you should bite the bullet and ask.

"No it's okay, I wanna know." You urge him. If he did know about who you were gonna talk about, how obvious were the two of you?

"I'm guessing it's because of a certain long haired boy? Just a guess though." His words seem to say he's just guessing, but his tone says otherwise. He sounded teasingly, like he knew something you didn't.

"Shit, was it that obvious? It's just— okay let me think about it, I'm just confused. He seems like he cares about me, but he never really wanted to talk about us. Like what we were. We're something, well we were." That's all you could say before your mind went blank. Thinking about all this is making you go stupid at this point.

"Well since you both seem and look like trainwrecks, i'll talk for you." Mikey knew what you needed right now, and that was for someone to tell you just straight up what was happening.

"You and Carl aren't just friends, okay? You and him may think that, but friends don't act like that with each other and act like it's nothing." Your friend's word seem to reach to you, telling you what needed to be done.

"We're friends, right? You and me? We don't do that. That's different. You and him have something different than friends. It's more than that, Y/N. And if you can't get that through your thick head, i'm not sure how you'll end up." Mikey finishes. He thinks his words got to you, and it did. You feel grateful, really. Despite it being blunt and straightforward, you got the message he was trying to send. You know what you have to do now.

"Wow, that's— huh. Thanks for that, Mikey. It means a lot, even if you unintentionally did refer to me as a numbskull." The joke you let out lightens the mood, putting a mood on both of your expressions. You realize you're lucky to have a friend like Mikey, he's not afraid to tell you straight up when you need something said.

"So since that's out of the way, wanna play videogames? I got something you might like." Mikey suggests. Even if you weren't that close to him, he still wanted to be civil with you. Given his inquiry, you didn't think it would hurt to play videogames with him, even if it was just for an hour or two.

You follow him up the stairs, but before you could make it up halfway with him, a firm knock at the door stops the both of your movements. You look at eachother, obviously curious.

"Stay here. It's probably just my father's friend or something asking about him."

He jogs down the steps, hesitant to open it but when he does, his shoulders drop in relief.

"Oh Carl, what are you doing here? You need something?" Mikey asks. With the stairs directly in front of the door, you tilt your head to the side, to see the long-haired brunet you'd been avoiding all this time.

"I was looking for Y/N actually, have you seen her?" Carl was asking. He seemed urgent, with a frantic aura to him, but his face was controlled. Before Mikey could answer Carl had finally found you, catching your gaze. You were on the stairs, looking like a deer in headlights. How did he know you were here? But weird enough, why does he look so rushed?

Carl seemed as confused as you. Why were you with Mikey? Why were you guys alone together? And why does it look like you were just going down from his room? Too many questions and no answers was gonna send Carl into a downward spiral. All these thoughts and no conclusion. He'll have to ask you later, 'cause he's going to die surely if it eats away at him from the fact that he'll keep thinking about it. It makes him feel such an unfamilliar feeling that he hasn't felt in a while; like venom coursing in his veins and his blood piping hot, he knew it in himself that he was jealous.

"Oh she's right here actually," Mikey turns so his body's facing you slightly. "You need her right now?" Mikey's question is starting to sound a lot more like earlier, with and underlying tease and knowing look.

Carl seems to pause at the question. Mikey's simple question feels like a more complicated one to him. To explain how much he needs her, he'd have to dive into an ocean's worth deep of words he's been meaning to say. But he'd rather open that can of feelings another time, preferrably with Y/N. Right now, all he wants to do is to speak with her.

"Yea can I actually talk to her? It's important." No matter what Mikey says, either way he'll get Y/N out of that house. It's killing him inside, he doesn't know why you've been so distant lately. The variable of your presence becoming absent in his routine for the past few weeks has left him dumbfounded. He needed to know what was wrong— or else it'll destroy him.

Before Mikey could even utter a proper response, Carl pushes past him and grabs your arm firmly, but gentle enough that he doesn't hurt you. His action befuddles you. First; he looks like a headless chicken trying to find you, and second; he's dragging you out of Mikey's house hurriedly. What could be so urgent that he needed to up and pull you out?

Your heart was in your mouth, unable to say anything. What would you say even? Carl was pulling you out of Mikey's house, and to the direction of his, were you supposed to ask why? You were frazzled, but all you could think about was how careful he was holding you hand. By the time he dragged you out of the house, his hand intertwined with yours, be it a habit or reassurance to him. That simple action made your heart leap out of you chest.

With the brisk pace he was walking with, you made it to his porch in record time. To add more flush to your cheeks, you see his father, Rick at the porch steps— looking at you both knowingly. It seems like he could tell you were tongue tied, and chose not to say anything else to save you the embarrassment (he'd do it later instead).

Walking quick to his room, he pulls you in and locks the door. He turns to you, standing face to face. You want to say something, so badly. But knowing if you would, you'd open up a pandora's box worth of words you'd been meaning to say. So you start slow.

"I wanna start off with i'm sorry, okay? Listen, it's just i'm really worried about us," Carl softens his gaze and walks closer to you. "—and I don't even know what we are anymore."

He grabs your hand and aligns it with his. "What are we, Carl?" As you ask, you watch him. It's cute, watching him observe your hand difference. It's as if he's trying to stall what storm is about to come. He then close his hand, intertwining it between the gaps of yours.

"We're friends, right?" He assures, he looks so pitiful, eyes pleading with you not to let this dam of unspoken words open into a whirlwind of emotions he desperately wanted not to let out.

"Are we really?" You barely say above a whisper. Are you really just friends? With all that happened with you and him, you guys are just platonic? It makes your heart shatter thinking that.

"Carl what you do— what we do isn't just friends. I'm sorry but I can't deal with it if it's just being friends with you." Your face falters, showing a more betrayed expression.

Carl thinks he's pathetic. He swore to himself that he'd never let anyone or anything make you upset, but he never thought he would be the cause of it. It makes his eyes teary, but he'd rather get eaten alive by walkers than show you how much he's been holding in.

"I. . ." Carl hesitates. ". . . I don't want to be just friends with you." Him confessing that makes you doe-eyed, what did he mean by that?

"It's just— everyone I love always leaves." Before he can even register it, his hot tears spill out of his eyes. He's embarrassed, and looks down to hide it.

"I can't lose anybody else." Despite him looking down and his voice low, it's enough for you to hear. You felt stupid now. All this time he was trying to protect you. He felt as if he was magnet of death and chose to love and cherish you from a distance instead, no matter how much it makes his heart feel unsatisfied.

"I— I can't anymore." Carl barely says between his cries. Carl felt silly. Here he was, crying in front of the person he wanted and needed so badly just because he couldn't possibly have her. If he had to choose one word to name his state right now, it would be desperate.

But what you do next is something he never expected you would do. You use your free hand to lift his chin up and wipe away at his tears, still looking at his teary-eyed gaze. Your other hand that was holding his closes, finally reciprocating the action. And what you say next sends his heart going a hundred miles per minute.

"I'm not leaving anytime soon, okay? I care about you too much to do that."

Carl felt special. The one and only person he genuinely wants to be with feels the same, the feeling was mutual. All of it makes his heart feel like it's gonna jump out of his throat. With hesitant movement, you chastely kiss the stains that had been left from his sobbing. Everything Carl was feeling right now made him so overjoyed, it made him lethargic.

With a hesitant hand, he returns the action by caressing the side of your face, looking into your gaze before nervously asking her what he's been meaning to say all this time.

"I love you, okay? I wanna be—" He sighs before he could finish, and shuts his eyes in focus before opening them to look at you once again. He's hesitant, would him saying this ruin everything? You look to him curiously. What now?

"I wanna be your boyfriend." He concludes. All of a sudden you feel your body feel so much lighter. Him stating that made you feel so happy, wanting to jump for joy 'cause everything was going right.

Carl looked nervous, like he would break any second. It was adorable, really. Normally you would be the one doe-eyed and shy from your interactions, but now the roles reversed. You figured it wouldn't be so bad, him looking like that, eyes glassy and pitiful. You couldn't deny how even in his state, he looks so cute.

". . .Okay." You finally say as you smile. The moment you say that, it's like a switch flips with him. He still looked teary-eyed, but he looks ten times more happy. He holds you face in his free hand and asks the other question he's been dying to ask.

"That's— that's great! I- uhm, can I kiss you?" Nervous and skittish, he manages to let out a jumble of words. Even so, you vehemently nod at him.

Carl goes in slowly, trying to gauge your reaction, eyes going to your lips then to you, before he goes in completely to close the space. It feels like heaven, his lips on yours. Just like clockwork, his hands hesitate on your waist. It makes you relax, knowing no matter how many times you kiss, he'll always end up bashful. It makes you smile into the kiss.

Feeling bold, you gently push him back on the edge of his bed, making him sit while you hover on him to keep you as close to him as you need to. He looks so perfect; him sitting on the edge of his bed, looking up at you, pleading eyes begging for you to come back into his space.

With languid, calculated movements, you place yourself on one of his thighs and go back in to capture his lips with yours again. He blushes at this; with the extended amount of time you'd been apart from one another, he's gonna have to get used to you all over again and your touch.

But just like last time you saw each other, you get interrupted. You both hear a loud, firm knock, before an unnecessary amount of wriggling of the door.

You practically jump off one another, before you both come up to the door, with you slightly behind Carl.

The door unlocks and you expect to see Rick, but unexpectedly, you're met with Michonne at the entrance.

"You kids good in there? You seemed pretty silent." Michonne asks. She seemed to know what was going on, but proceeded to ask anyway.

"Yeah– uh-huh, I was just talking to her uh– Y/N." Carl quickly says. But his defense seems to make it a whole lot worse.

"Oh you're talking. All right, i'll stop buggin' ya. Enjoy your talk." Michonne looks at you, letting your already flushed face get even warmer from the implications she was trying to tell you, and then to Carl, who was trying to regulate his breathing, all while Michonne was growing a smirk on her face. She proceeds to close the door, leaving you and him to bask in the shy atmosphere that had been created.

". . .So you wanna make out some more?" You ask. You know you should be shy about it, but there's no use beating around the bush, especially when you want him to touch you so badly all over again.

"Hell yeah." Carl says before grabbing you by the waist and kissing your lips once again. Kissing you with your hands on his shoulders and his hands rubbing circles on your waist, he knows one thing for sure.

He'll never get tired of this.

BONUS ೀ⋆⑅˚

"Oh they're smooching it on alright." Michonne reports to Rick, seemingly teasing the teen pair that wasn't there to defend themselves.

He had asked her if she could go up and see what they were doing, not that he didn't trust his son and his friend or whatever she was to him, but he figured it wouldn't hurt to make a precaution. They didn't want another baby Judith situation after all.

"Ah. . . good, thanks." Rick looks back at Michonne then to the neighbourhood. He has an unreadable expression on his face. Michonne takes note of this, though.

"Trust me, with how shy Y/N is and how emotionally constipated your son is, you won't have to worry about another baby Jude in a good long while." She pats his back, reassuring him.

He silently thanks her, trying to believe what she's saying. But with how loose discipline is with the state of the world, He doesn't know how much that statement holds up when none of them know what they're like behind closed doors.

You'll never know until you find out.

oh wow, this one was a long fic, huh? I hope the wait was worth it guys, I really liked how this turned out ٩(ˊᗜˋ*)و also the end bonus was just a silly little thing, i'm not sure if I would want to expand on it, it was just a throwaway line that sounded ominous and i'm a sucker for that :3 anyways ty for all of the support you've been giving me, I can't believe it honestly— I just want to thank all of you lovelies ! stay tuned and tell me if you want to be tagged next time I post !

what did you think ? don't be a silent reader and let me know ! °ʚ(´꒳`)ɞ°

tags : @carlslvr

[sagechanoafterdark]

Shoot Your Shot, Cupid

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader Word Count: 3,770 Warnings: mature language, unbeata'd, soft Bucky, lets assume Sam set him up for this one, female coded reader, happy ending because we all deserve it, TIME SKIIIIIP, best friend with good intentions that shows up for one job and then disappears, speed dating, one obnoxious man, all the soft feelings.

Hello Kittens, and Happy Valentine's Day. It's been a while since I wrote... well anything and I was working on this for a couple of months but I think it's come all together now. Hope you enjoy it!

This couldn’t get much worse.

Tricked by your best friend.

Nay, betrayed.  

By someone you implicitly trusted.

There would be no forgiving this.

Never, not ever.

The dinner and drinks invitation a few days before the start of February was met with trepidation on your part. All Christmas season you’d feigned interest as Mellony, your best friend, thrust every single co-worker, neighbor, and wait staff at you to find you someone to share the holiday with.

You couldn’t blame her. After all, Mellony was blissfully happy with her fiancée and only wanted the same for you.

All that you could forgive.

But this?

This was a complete and utter betrayal.

A deep and unimpressed frown marred your face as Mellony took the sticky name tag off the table with her perfectly manicured nails. Peeling the back with an ear-to-ear grin and pressed it against your chest. “There,” she exclaimed with joy, lacing her fingers together. “Now you’re all set.”

Looking down at the beautifully scrawled letters framed by little hearts you couldn’t help but curl your lip and whine, “Mel, you promised.”

The blond snorted and rolled her enormous puppy dog eyes, “I never promised anything.” Looping her arm through yours she practically began to drag you through the convention center doors and past the sign that sealed your fate.

Cupids Bow Speed Dating Event.

“Yes, you did,” you reaffirmed. Glancing around the room packed full of men and women in a combination of sweaters, suits, and cocktail dresses. “You promised not to try and set me up with anyone again.”

“This is my speed dating event. It doesn’t count.”

“I can assure you it does.”

“Nooooo,” she practically sang, turning around on her heel with that adorable mischievous smile of hers. “I promised that I wouldn’t set you up with anyone I knew. Everyone here was vetted by my team. I don't know any of these people.”

Grumbling she began tugging you towards the stage as intro music began to play softly from the DJ booth. Mellony paused, gripping your hand tight and looking down at you as the DJ introduced her, “Please, stay? I just want you to find someone.”

“Mel,” you hissed with disapproval. “I don’t need to find someone.”

Whether or not she heard you was unclear as the music swelled and Mellony put on her famous razzle dazzle smile and waved at everyone as she took the microphone and the presentation began. Your eyes swung to the crowd of people, more than three dozen people silhouetted against the stage lights and it made you shiver.

This was going to be a disaster.

Twenty minutes later your mind was glazed over with the audacity of men.

With every new ding of the bell, you found yourself becoming more annoyed. The match-making event progressed easily. People were divided into groups based on results from a questionnaire, something you distinctly remember Mel presenting to you as a fun Cosmo quiz, while one group remained seated the others rotated around the room.

By some stroke of luck, you were one of the people destined to sit. But that also meant that total strangers would be coming to your table to chat with you.

In all your years of singledom,  you’d thought you’d heard it all. Too fat. Too loud. Too smart. Too opinionated. Those were old hat by now, and you weren’t immune to the bitter words from unimportant people.

“I suppose you’re an attractive woman,” the suit across from you said thoughtfully. His eyes never met yours, instead looking around the room likely for the next victim of his charm. “But I’m not really into your hair color. How would you feel about dying it?”

The question hung in the air as you waited for the man to look back at you. When his beady eyes returned to your face you couldn’t hide the disbelief, waving your hand in the air with an icy finality, “Absolutely not. You can go.”

He didn’t wait. Standing so quickly the chair scraped against the floor as he haughtily walked towards the bar. You couldn’t help but roll your eyes as you pulled out your phone and began to scroll social media waiting for the next bell in fifteen minutes.

Not the wildest thing you’d ever heard, but the gall of some people astounded even you sometimes. This also wasn’t the first event you’d been to that Mel had put on, you’d come to one or two as she’d begun her match-making service so you knew the ins and outs pretty well. But getting the same questions over and over was getting old fast.

What do you do for a living?

Where are you from?

What’s your family like?

What’s your perfect date idea?

BOR-ING!

Just once you’d like someone to ask you a real question, something thoughtful instead of the surface questions you’d find on social media.

You couldn’t believe you wore your favorite dress for this nonsense.

The bell dinged once again and the shadow of a new man sat in front of you.

“Hi.”

“Hello,” you said not looking up from the device in your hand.

“Come here often?”

“To a dating event? No,” the words were flowing out of your mouth easily. Canned responses for canned questions.

There was a heavy pause, “You seem bored.”

“That’s because I am.”

A muted scoff came from the other side of the table, “What would make it more interesting then?”

A long sigh escaped you as you continued scrolling on your phone, “If someone would ask me a question of substance, maybe I would give them a chance for conversation.”

Again a long stretching silence from the other side and you had to resist rolling your eyes.

“Alright,” he rumbled, leaning back against his chair. “Then what’s one gift you always wish you’d gotten, but never did?”

That had your thumb pausing on the endless scrolling you were doing. Finally, your gaze flicked up and your brain stopped working for a brief moment as you took in the disgustingly attractive man sitting your opposite.

Coffee color hair, and a chiseled jaw dotted with a five o’clock shadow would be enough to make even the most choosy of a woman’s breath catch. He was wearing a bulky leather jacket in a building that was pushing 80 degrees, which was odd but not overly strange.

But oddly enough you felt yourself getting drawn in. Not by his cheekbones, the cut of his jaw, the dimple in his chin, or even the semi-scowl he wore.

No, it was his eyes. Bright blue soulful eyes, that sparkled a little as he sat across the table from you. Eyes that told a story all their own and drew you out of your scrolling for the first time that night.

Pursing your lips slightly you thought, “Hmm, I’d have to say it’s a puppy.”

His eyebrow arched slightly, clearly surprised by your answer, “A puppy?”

“Sure,” you said with a slight shrug. “A puppy is something I’ve always wanted but never gotten as a gift from anyone other than myself.”

“What kind of puppy?”

“Oh I don’t have a preferred breed,” you informed, tilting your head a little at the odd conversation. “But as a child, it was what I asked for every year as a present. But I never got one.”

His lips turned up in a half smile and you thought you were going to melt in your seat, “Asking for one every year and not getting one, sounds a little disappointing. Was that just a Christmas thing?”

“Nah,” you laughed a little, fingers picking at a little piece of lint on the edge of your dress. “Christmas, birthdays, Easter didn’t matter. If gifts were being given, it was at the top of my list. Every year I’d be running to the tree and picking up presents, looking for one big enough. It’s a running joke with my friends that I’d marry the first man to give me a puppy for Christmas.”

A brisk laugh escaped him, his lips pulled into a charming smile that had nervous butterflies leap up in your chest. “A puppy for Christmas,” he rumbled thoughtfully. “I’ll have to remember that.”

The response made goosebumps prickle along your skin and you held back a shiver, wetting your suddenly dry lips, “What about you?”

“What about me?”

“What’s a gift you always wanted but didn’t get,” you paused briefly a coy smile stretching your lips.

His smile turned into a smirk as he once again leaned back in his chair, blue eyes darting back and forth over your face as he thought about it. It was going well, your impish smile growing along with his own. That is until his smile began to fall, bright blue gaze darting a little more frantically over your face before he licked his lips and an unexpected tremor sounded in his voice, “I think, I think it was a sled.”

“A sled,” you asked, leaning forward a little in intrigue. “Like a big plastic one with the handles? Oh no, I got it you’re definitely an inflatable snow tube kind of guy.”

A balk of laughter sounded from him, making hidden laugh lines appear at the corner of his eyes as they brightened with your playful banter. “Nah,” he exclaimed, waving a hand. “More like a wood and metal one. It had bright red skis and a wooden seat top. That sled was all I wanted as a kid.”

An amused giggle slipped from you, “I had a wagon kind of like that as a kid, it was a radio flyer.”

His fingers snapped as he pointed at you with a little bit of excitement, “That’s it! A Radio Flyer sled, with a rope handle and foot steering bar. Though I don’t think I’d ever get one now. I’m a little too old to go sledding down a hill.”

“Age is all about perspective.”

He snorted, “Tell that to my driver's license.”

Genuine laughter bubbled up from inside of you as you leaned forward in your seat, a teasing retort on your lips. Before you could speak, Mellony rang her little handbell and people began to switch places again. But your blue-eyed stranger lingered at your table.

“Talk to you again?”

He sounded, hopeful. “Yeah,” you croaked out pathetically. “Talk to you again.”

You watched as he stood from your table and made his way across the room to his next table while another man took his place at your own. A feeling of disappointment swelled as you lost sight of him in the crowd of people, the feeling intensifying as this new man briefly introduced themselves before launching into a long Tinder-level introduction.

Two more men sat at your table, barely holding your interest outside of normal pleasantries before Mel rang her handbell in rapid succession. “Alright everyone that’s the first round,” she called from her place at the podium. “We’re going to break for thirty minutes. There are hors d'oeuvres and refreshments at the bar. Please feel free to mingle!”

The room of people began to stand and mill around as an uproar of chatter began. Your eyes picked out a couple of men from your group, pairing up with others and heading to the bar. Cordial smiles turned into pleasant touches and sweetheart eyes as they went.

The Cupids Bow Dating Event was a success and you couldn’t help but feel the swell of pride for your friend.

“Hey, Sourpuss,” Melody greeted, looping her arm through yours. “You having fun yet?”

Your mind drifted back to your blue-eyed stranger, “A little.”

“Well, I don’t know if you know this. But the point of speed dating is to, you know, find a date. I was watching you, and you gotta talk to more than one person,” she sassed.

Your mouth turned down to a frown for a brief moment, “I talked to someone.”

“Oh yeah? What was his name.”

Your mouth opened and closed a couple of times as you realized quickly you’d never even got Mr. Blue-Eyes name, “Shit.”

“What?”

“I didn’t even get Mr. Blue-Eyes name!”

“It’s Bucky.”

Turning around there stood Mr. Blue-Eyes himself, err… you meant Bucky. There was no doubt your embarrassment showed on your face, but the little nervous laugh that slipped out sealed the deal.

Bucky smiled at you, “That is if it’s me you were talking about?”

Wetting your lips you shifted, suddenly nervous before meeting friendly blue eyes, “Yeah,” you squeaked before clearing your throat. “I mean, yes. I’m sorry I missed your name when we talked.”

He was nodding for a brief moment, his eyes darting over towards the bar before taking a few steps closer to you and leaning down. “There’s a restaurant down the street. They’ve got pretty good sushi. You want to get the hell out of here?”

“Oh, my god yes!” The tips of your ears felt hot as you wished the ground would open up and swallow you whole but Bucky didn’t seem to notice your embarrassment. Instead, he offered up his right arm and you looped yours into it without hesitation.

Melody’s brow shot up out of surprise, “B-but that was only the first round! There are still two more.”

“I don’t think we need a round two,” Bucky said, the same charming smile pulling at the corner of his mouth and making his eyes crinkle.

“Yeah,” you laughed, in a teasing tone. “This round just might go to Cupid after all.”

Three years later.

Lights twinkled in the living room of your apartment, it was god awful early and you’d carefully planned today. Christmas day and you’d been waiting for this moment for two years now. Quickly and quietly you snuck out of the bedroom where Bucky lay wrapped up in the blankets and made your way to the front closet.

It was hard being sneaky when your boyfriend was a super spy. But after a lot of careful planning, misdirections, and a lot of help from Sam, you’d managed to do it and Bucky was none the wiser.

Tiptoeing towards the hall closet that Bucky never used you opened the squeaky hinged door in just the way so it made no noise. Reaching blindly into the black of the closet you felt around, past the dozen unused coats, jackets, scarves, and hats your hand met the back of the closet wall. Sliding quietly until your fingers brushed the cold metal you were looking for.

Jackpot.

Fingers wrapped around your prize as you gave a firm but gentle tug. A pristine, adult-sized, bright red and creamy wood seat Flex Flyer sled emerged complete with an enormous red bow.

Stifling a giggle you set it down.

“What are you doing?”

A shriek tore out of your throat as you jumped what felt like twenty feet in the air.

“James Barnes,” you scolded, heart beating a million miles an hour. “What have I said about sneaking up on me?”

“You were being sneaky first,” he said, brows drawn together as he tried to look around you. “What you hiding doll face?”

“Nothing!” You lied, spreading your arms and legs to hide your surprise gift.

It was at that moment you heard the vibration from Bucky’s phone clutched in his hand, the man tried to not look sheepish as he not so covertly pressed the silence button.

Suspicion immediately filled you, “Bucky? What are you doing?”

“What are you doing?” He shot back, his brow knits in suspicion.

It was a standoff.

The two of you staring each other down in the dark of the hallway in your matching Christmas pajamas. Someone knocking on the front door startled you both before Bucky cursed under his breath, pointing at you, “Don’t follow me.”

His instruction surprised you as he brushed past you in the small hallway. You scoffed under your breath, “You’re in your PJ’s Buck, how far are you going?”

Bucky paused before going around the corner, “I mean it.” There was another soft but hurried knock and he cursed before disappearing.

A tisk of disapproval escaped you, but urgency filled your movements the second he was out of sight. Hands shaking slightly you hurried, pulling the sled out from the closet with as much silence as you could muster before dashing the Christmas tree. Stuffing the sled behind the tree, a few bulbs swinging back and forth as you fumbled to fluff the crumpled bow on Bucky’s surprise.

A cacophony of hushed grumbles and whispers came from the front door, you could have sworn you heard Sam as the door closed with a thunk and the lock turned. In a matter of seconds Bucky was coming around the corner again, an enormous gold box gripped in his hands affixed with a brilliant glittering green bow.

It was clear that Bucky didn’t see you immediately as he juggled the wobbly box and tried to remain quiet as he did so.

“Whatcha, got there?”

Bucky startled, socked feet skidding to a halt just at the corner of the couch as the box wobbled in his hands again. Frustrated and accusatory blue eyes narrowed, “What are you doing in here?” He asked in a hushed whisper.

“What are you doing in here?”

“You better not be shaking presents.”

“Please,” you scoffed. “I’ll have you know I haven’t shaken a present since I was ten. What’s in the box, Jamie?”

Bucky flinched a little, his one weakness was when you called him Jamie. His shoulders sagged a little as his grip on the box tightened, “This was supposed to be a surprise.”

“Oh I’m surprised,” you said with a laugh. The mantle clock began to ding for the early morning hour. Five AM came so early now. “Do you want to open our gifts now?”

Bucky pursed his lips, body jerking as the box tried to throw itself from his hands. “I think now is best.”

Butterflies fluttered in your stomach at the prospect of what the box could contain. But your eyes flitted over to the space behind the tree where you’d stuffed Bucky’s surprise and the anxious feeling grew tenfold as you thought about the question you were going to ask him once he’d seen it.

Clearing his throat Bucky nodded towards the Christmas tree and the traditional present opening space. Dutifully you sat down in the chair, eyes darting over behind the tree to where your gift sat. “Um, mine's not wrapped.”

“That’s alright,” he said, setting the box at your feet as it rattled all on its own now that it was on the floor. “Where is mine and we’ll do them on the count of three.”

“Alright,” you agreed, fingers tapping the edges of your box. “Yours is behind the tree.”

You saw his eyes dart over to the tree and then back down to you, “On three.”

“Alright,” you agreed, fingers poised to rip at the bow on top of the gift. “One.”

“Two,” Bucky echoed, taking a step closer to the tree.

“Three!”

Your fingers began tearing at the bow on top of the gift box as it rattled against the floor. Pushing back the loose gold paper and terrible tape job before, POP!

Two of the most adorable brown eyes you’d ever seen stared up at you. You were stunned for a moment, staring down at the cutest little paws and wet nose you’d ever laid your eyes on.

“OHMYGODAPUPPY!!”

The shrieking sob spilled past your lips as you pulled the squirming pup into your arms, its tiny tongue licking and sniffing all over your face and mouth. Tears spilled from your eyes as the little bundle in your arms wiggled, squirmed, and kissed your face everywhere; its bottom wiggling so much they tumbled out of your arms and into your lap.

“Oh my god,” you blubbered, holding the precious little one to you. “Bucky! He’s so cute. Oh, it’s a she. She’s so cute, James. Oh god! Oh my god, I love her so much. I can't—I can’t believe this! This is real right? Do I get to keep her? Bucky?”

Looking up Bucky was angled away from you, the lights of the Christmas tree gleaming off of his arm as he held onto his new sled. His fingers found the tag as he stared at it in the dim lighting. 

He sniffled briefly before he began to read, “Roses are red, violets are blue, do me the—the honor—the honor of spending my life with you?”

Teary blue eyes turned towards you as you held the squirming puppy in your arms. “Doll,” he squeaked out with a sniffle as a few tears began to slip. “You…”

Looking up at him from your seat you reached into the side table drawer pulled out a distinctive black ring box and opened it. Inside, a single simple gold band that had Bucky’s breath catching.

“Will you,” you croaked out, clearing your throat a little more and juggling your new bundle of joy in your arms. “Will you marry me, James Buchanan Barns?”

A laugh escaped Bucky as he lowered the sled to the floor, and then himself. Bucky knelt before you, down on one knee, and reached forward towards the little puppy squirming in your arms. His fingers brushed against a tiny piece of string attached to the bow, you’d missed it but he lifted the dangling object for your inspection. A beautiful golden ring with what had to be the most enormous diamond you’d ever seen.

Your shocked watery gaze met Bucky’s impossibly blue eyes, “Only if you say yes too.”

The puppy leaped down from your lap, content to explore their new apartment as you slid down and onto Bucky’s lap. Arms wrapping around his shoulders and kissing him harder than you ever had before. Warmth blossomed in your chest as Bucky’s lips parted briefly with a light moan, kissing one another with dizzying urgency.

Gasping for air the two of you parted briefly, planting pecking kisses against one another lips.

“Is that a yes,” he husked, his hands sliding up and down your back.

“Yes, it’s a yes, Jamie.”

Grinning up at you, Bucky cradled you against him, “I didn’t know if you’d say yes.”

 “Of course I’d say yes,” you whispered, holding onto him tightly. “After all,  you did get me that puppy I’ve always wanted.”

A laugh escaped Bucky as he held you tightly and buried his face against your chest, his shoulders shaking in what could only be a relief, “Fuck, I love you so much.”

“I love you too, Blue-Eyes.”

END

[bouncybongfairy]

Late Night At Fazbear's

Mike Schmidt x Fem Reader

Summary: Mike is an ex-coworker with whom you have a situationship with. Knowing about your interest in arcade games, he invites you to visit him at an abandoned pizzeria to check it out. Things get a little heated before you get a chance to look around.

Word Count: 2.5k+

(!This is a smut fanfic, you’ve been warned!)

<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3

You were working on some last-minute statistics homework after you got out of the shower. It was a Friday night and even though you got an offer from your friend group to go out, you decided to stay home. Going to house party after party was getting annoying. Half the time, the only people there were drunk frat boys trying to get some before their whiskey dick kicked in. Being a wing girl for your friends was fun the first thirty times but now you’d rather stay home. Things in your life seemed so stagnant, it was like all you did was school, work, then bumming it at home. Like you were some uncharismatic dad in a sitcom. Suddenly your phone goes off, which breaks you out of the trance you were in. When you answered, you immediately recognized the voice to be Mike from the pizza place you guys used to work at together. You thought it was kinda weird that he was calling you so randomly but you did talk often when working together. For reasons that still are unclear, you answered.

“Hey! Sorry I know this is- it’s kinda random but can you talk for a second?” his voice spoke over the receiver. 

“Yeah, I’m just hanging out at home. What’s up?” you asked, now standing up to pace around your room. 

“Oh cool cool, so kinda weird to explain but bear with me here. Remember how you were super obsessed with the old arcade games we had in the back of the pizza shop? Anyway, I got this new job at an old pizzeria and there’s a bunch of old games and animatronics. I was thinking while I’m working the graveyard shift you could maybe swing by for an hour or two and check it out with me?” His voice was so sweet and soft-spoken that you couldn’t help but blush over the phone. You coiled your finger around the wire of the landline. 

“Umm, yeah that sounds kinda fun actually, when are you there till?” you asked with a hint of a smirk on your face. 

“My shift starts at 12 am and ends at 6 am, no pressure. Obviously, I’ll be here all night,” he laughed.

“Yeah, I’ll call you right before I leave okay?” you asked softly. 

“Yeah that’s perfect, I’ll see you then,” he said. 

You put the phone back on its hook and check the time on your alarm clock. To your dismay, you’d been studying for two hours and it was 10:50. Luckily you’d already showered but that wasn’t the problem. Internally, you were going through a moral dilemma. Part of you was telling yourself that he was just a coworker that got attached and another part, wanted to do your hair and make-up and hair before going. Making sure that every strand sat just right as if he’d somehow notice. To make sure your eyelashes have the exact amount of mascara they need to be long but not clumpy. If you thought all these things, wouldn’t that mean you do care what he thinks of you? Although you were bubbling with a mix of nervousness and anticipation, you managed to finish getting ready. You start packing your bag, pacing around looking for all your items. Car keys, pocket knife, compact, body spray, and your wallet. As you went to take the cartoon of cigarettes from your bedside table, you thought about taking the joint that was rolled. Sitting on your knees in front of your nightstand, you start dialing Mike’s number to let him know you are on the way. After shoving all the contents into the bag, you make your way outside and start your Mazda. You were sitting in the car for a few moments, thinking about if you were really going. 

Once you pulled into the parking lot, thoughts of regret started to bubble in your brain. You would have turned around if it weren’t for Mike’s car being in the parking lot. You checked the time on the radio and saw that it was only 12:57, was it weird that you were there so early? You were slightly worried that it would look desperate. Deciding to let that unneeded anxiety go, you get out of the car and lock your doors. Take a moment to take in the outside of the building. It appeared to be severely unkempt, brown vines covered most of the building. Due to the unsettling vibe of the building, the bear that was supposed to look cute and inviting was the exact opposite. Creating an ominous feeling as it waved at you. The walls were mostly a dull yellow color with red and blue accents and a black and white checkered line across the middle. One of the R’s of the sign was out, only adding to the sketchy feeling. You knocked on the big metal doors, wiping your knuckles off on your jeans. When Mike swung the door open, it made you jump and gasp. This caused him to break out into a fit of laughter. You playfully pushed his shoulder back. 

He took you back to the small room where he was monitoring all the security footage. The room was more creepy than the outside of the building. You sat down on the desk and Mike plopped down on his office chair. He was completely slouched back, wearing a gray thermal and a dark hooded sweater. His hair was more curly than shaggy and he had a five o’clock shadow. You set your purse on the desk and stood up, looking at the security cameras. One of the first things you noticed was the group of animatronics that were standing on the stage together. It was then that you realized what you really had gotten yourself into. 

He was surprised that you even came, yes you guys had become close while working together but he didn’t think it would lead to anything after. You were currently facing away from him, and he couldn’t help but admire you as you did so. He liked the fact that you were so well put together. Your jeans were fitted perfectly and your thong peaked out slightly from the top of your waistband. When you entered the small room, the entire space began to smell like apple-scented perfume. The white long sleeve was also very fitted, which brought attention to your figure. You turned around once you noticed it had been silent for a while. Grabbing your purse, you pull out the cartoon of cigs. Bringing the lighter to it and taking a drag to light it. After taking a couple of puffs you pass it to Mike who leans forward with a groan. As he took his hit, a piece of ash fell onto his pants. You leaned down and brushed it off his knee. 

“So much for cutting back right?” he asked rhetorically. 

“Oh yeah, I did switch to Spirits though. My grandma swore by these,” you said taking it back. 

“Do you smoke weed?” he asked, you laughed and started digging through your bag and pulled out the Altoids container, grabbing the joint. 

“Will you get in trouble? For like, smoking on the job?” you asked. 

“Oh no, this place is abandoned. There’s usually nobody in and out of here that would notice,” he said. 

You lit the joint and took a deep drag, blowing the smoke at his face playfully. He laughed as he took the joint into his hands and inhaled. You put the cig out on the glass ashtray that sat on the desk. He commented on how good the flower tasted which made you relieved knowing he didn’t think it was reggie. You guys started talking about memories of working together. You guys would always take smoke breaks together and go to lunch every once and a while. Mike actually listened to what you had to say. He wasn’t the type of person that constantly changed to a conversation with himself. A lot of guys you spoke with were usually just telling you whatever you wanted to hear. Everything you had to say was so fascinating and impressive because they were just trying to butter you up. Mike would actually give his opinions on things and would tell you if he thought what you were saying was stupid. It was refreshing, to be honest, to have an interaction with the opposite sex without them drooling on you. You glanced over at Mike, maybe it was the weed but something felt different now. The way his legs were spread so widely made something in you feel hot. Eyes were now bloodshot, making the hazel color stand out even more than before. When he reached for the joint again, his hand brushed over yours. This made you make eye contact with him but then break away once the awkwardness set in. You looked down and tucked a piece of hair behind your ear. 

“Are you still with Jackson?” he asked.

“What? Oh yeah, we broke up a while ago,” you said, rubbing your arm.

“Well, what happened? I mean… If you don’t mind me asking,” he said. 

“No it’s- he just..” you took a deep inhale and spoke as the smoke poured out of your mouth, “he was really aggressive like, not just with his words. Not saying he beat me or anything but some things are meant to be more sweet and gentle. Sorry, I don’t know why I'm telling you this,” you said, passing it back. 

“No, I’m the one who brought it up. He always was a little misogynistic when we talked, I’m sorry you were subjected to that,” he said. You were sitting on the desk, you kicked off your sandals and gently swung your legs back and forth. 

“Yeah, I guess it just wasn’t meant to be,” you sighed.

“For sure, you could do so much better than that,” he said. 

“Oh yeah? When you say better what do you mean by that?” you asked, leaning over to grab the joint. 

“Like if you said he was overly aggressive then you’ll find someone that is more gentle and shit,” he said, chuckling a little. 

“Oh, I see,” you moved your foot so that it was resting on his inner thigh before continuing, “Maybe you could show me?” you asked flirtatiously, he looked up and looked at you with a shocked expression. 

You used your leg to roll him closer to where you were sitting. He was now smirking, looking up at you. He let his hands slide up both your outer thighs. He pulled you off the desk so that you were now sitting in his lap facing him. You still had the joint in your hand, you took a hit before letting it sit on the ashtray. Your noses were touching and you were relieved to see that his breath was as fast as yours. Running your fingers through his hair, forcing his head to tilt back a little. You ran your bottom lip across his, arching your back and pressing your crotches together. He picked you up which caused you to wrap your legs around his waist. He set you on the desk again so that he was standing, hovering over you. You reached your hands down between your bodies, trying to unbuckle his belt. He stopped the kiss and chuckled at your eagerness and helped you. As you unzipped his jeans, one of his arms reached behind you and undid the clasps of your bra. The way he unhooked it with one hand made you throb. He pulled your shirt over your head, leaving you in nothing but jeans. He still had his jeans on but now that his pants were undone, you could feel how hard he was through his boxers. It was like the heat coming off his dick was making your stomach feel warm and tight. Before he buried his face into your chest, the look on his face was almost primal. Like it was taking everything he had to keep his hands off of you. He took one of your breasts into his mouth and sucked, biting down every once in a while. He reached into his backpack that was sitting on the desk and pulled out a condom. He was breathing heavily and a couple of drips of sweat were beading down his forehead. As you unzipped your jeans you looked over at the security camera and thought you saw one of the animatronics move from the stage. You pulled away for a second to show him,

“Mike, I know we smoked and everything. Oh my god, I know this is going to be crazy but I swear I just saw one of those… things moved,” you said as he trailed kisses up your shoulder. 

“This is my third day here and I think that all the time. It’s just your head playing tricks on us because of how creepy they look,” he said, then tearing the foil package open. 

“Are you sure because I could have..” you started but then were interrupted by Mike throwing the still-packaged condom onto the desk and pressing a button that made both doors close around you. He then got down on his knees and gripped the top of your jeans, pulling them down. Instead of trying to pull your panties off of you, he simply pulls them to the side. Sticking his tongue in between your folds, massaging your clit. You had been in a dry spell since you broke up with Jackson and even then, he would never go down on you. The feeling of his mouth pressed against you was so euphoric, the moans that came out of your mouth were completely natural and unrehearsed. His pace was slow but he kept a steady rhythm which helped you chase to your climax. Instead of pulling at his hair, you cupped his face, gently stroking his cheeks with your thumbs. He looked up and made direct eye contact with you. His eyebrows were furrowed but when he saw the look on your face, his eyes closed and he groaned loudly. He grabbed your ankles and pushed your legs back so that your feet were now on the desk. You grabbed two fistfuls of hair and threw your head back, moaning loudly. The pressure of the top of your thighs being pressed into your lower stomach. Crying out as you cum, the moans came out strangled. As you started to come down from the wave of ecstasy, you began to feel insecure about how fast he made you cum. 

“God you are so fucking hot, like seriously I almost came in my boxers,” he said standing up and grabbing the condom. His lips were parted and his mouth was still covered in saliva. Without wiping his mouth, he slid the rubber onto his shaft. 

“Sorry, do you want to keep going?” he asked, you didn’t verbally respond. Instead, you grabbed him by his shirt and smashed your mouth into his. He moaned the word ‘fuck’ into your mouth before continuing kissing. He broke away to look down and line himself up with your entrance. You were still wet and swollen from the previous orgasm, enabling him to slide in with you easily. He dropped his forehead down on your shoulder, mouth open and moaning as he slowly started rocking back and forth into you. You scooted your ass down so that you could fully be pressed against his hips. The desk was continuously banging up against the wall. Your foreheads were now pressed together groaning and growling into each other’s mouth. Everything suddenly came to a halt when everything went dark. You both jump and start looking for any articles of clothing that are nearby. The big metal doors on both sides of you slam open so loud, that your ears start ringing. 

“What the fuck just happened!” you exclaim.

“The battery died,” he realizes. 

“Well has that ever happened while you’re working?” you asked.

“No,” he stated. 

“Holy fuck, do you hear that fucking music?” you whispered. 

[chimielie]

girlfriend

summary: Iwaizumi x F!Reader. you might be his girlfriend—but she's his girl.

word count: 2.4k

cw: hurt/comfort. a lot of reader insecurity. fear/mention of emotional cheating but there is none

a/n: this actually fills @akimind's request for my 500 follower event one million years ago but the formatting is tooo hard so. here it is!!! iwaizumi + angst + college au + "that's not what i said." LOVE YOU SORRY HOPE IT HURTS AND IS ALSO ENJOYABLE. <<<<3333333

You didn't mean to fall in love with your boyfriend.

You hadn't gone into this expecting Hajime to become your boyfriend at all, actually. You liked him. Liked how easy it was to be with him. How warm he was when you let your touch linger on him and pretended it was more than a flirty friendship. You hadn't ever predicted it would become so, because Hajime was hung up on his ex-girlfriend.

They'd traveled over oceans to be together, coming to Irvine from the same prefecture in Japan. They had still been together when you met him, her head tucked beneath his chin, his arms wrapped around her waist. Your first thought was "oh, he's beautiful." Your second thought was "they look like they're made for each other." You shoved the first thought deep inside a secret crevice of your brain and stuck out your hand to introduce yourself with a bright smile.

The strain of new adulthood got to them, though, or so you assumed: you were never privy to the gory details of the breakup. They remained friendly, in the same friend group, and it just always seemed obvious to you that they would someday reconcile. It wasn't until two years after their break that you were able to start showing regular, platonic affection to Hajime without feeling like an attempted homewrecker.

It was just before graduation, having dragged him away for a late-night bite to eat so neither of you would starve to death studying for finals, when everything flipped on its head. Your plan to energize the both of you had backfired; you were yawning every other sentence and came close to laying your head on the table before Hajime put his palm down in front of your face.

"Come sit next to me," he'd said, so you maneuvered around into his side of the booth and been promptly pulled into his side. You had looked up at him, murmuring a sleepy question that was more wordless noise than actual English, and that was it. Something you didn't understand softened his gaze, and then he tilted his head to the side and brushed his lips over yours.

It was a perfect first kiss.

In the weeks following it, you had bounced violently between insisting to yourself that he hadn't meant for you to read too far into the kiss and your natural instinct to go after what your heart wanted. And the more he proved that it wasn't a one-off anomaly, that he could kiss you right out of drought into a superbloom, the more you were convinced. Iwaizumi Hajime wouldn't knowingly break your heart.

When Hajime asked you to be official, wildflower bouquet in hand, the lights of the now-empty graduation pavilion shining down on the both of you, you said yes, your whole heart and none of your brain in the matter.

As you entered your apartment hand-in-hand with him, greeting all the friends who had gathered there to celebrate the end of undergraduate school, you remembered that the key modifier in "Iwaizumi Hajime wouldn't knowingly break your heart" was knowingly. He seemed happy enough announcing the development to everyone else, and then she had walked in, carrying a bottle of wine that almost slipped from her grasp when she saw your proximity. He had dropped your hand—just for a second, but it had happened, and then picked it back up like his sentence hadn't died in his mouth at the sight of her.

He'd always gotten a little defensive when people mentioned their relationship, his features shutting down into a blank, tight expression. Though they obviously weren't as close as they had been for most of their lives, they were still both part of your friend group, and he always seemed to laugh just a little harder at her jokes, kept eye contact a little longer, got embarrassed more easily around her. You didn't want to be jealous or insecure or possessive, but it just felt more increasingly obvious that you were a rebound, a cheap, temporary dupe meant to fill in until Hajime realized and returned to the love of his life.

It was hard to be angry at him, though, because you knew with every fiber of your bleeding heart that he wouldn't do this to you on purpose. You knew he thought he cared for you, that he thought he had moved on. He did a good job almost every day coming very close to persuading you of it, enough to keep you from breaking up with him and leaving him behind, but never quite erasing your insecurities for more than a few weeks at a time.

One of the first mornings you woke up in his bed, well rested and sore in all the right places, he was missing. You got up, mourning the softness of his sheets and the scent of him on the pillowcases, and slipped into one of his shirts before leaving his room to explore.

He was cooking, shirtless in the kitchen, and if that wasn't one of the yummiest things you had seen in your life.

"Good morning," you said, leaning against his counter.

"Very," he returned, flipping an egg in the pan. "Looking like that. I think—I mean, it seems like that shirt always gets chosen to be the boyfriend shirt." He had narrowly avoided saying her name, but you had heard it threatening to tumble out of his mouth. You bit back a response, but your smile still dropped, and he spent the next hour making allusive, sorry overtures without either of you actually acknowledging the slip.

You never wore that shirt again. He gave you another one, you accepted it, and life moved on.

Except you had somehow become mired in the past with a relationship that was long over, and without university or a job to distract you—you were starting at the end of September, which felt aeons away—it was eating you alive, especially as Hajime left for a preliminary return trip to Japan.

"Did you hear how Mattsun and Makki greeted him when he landed?" You sit in the car on the way to the airport, packed in with Hajime's ex, successfully hyping yourself up to see him again until she addressed the group.

"Oh, yeah," you laugh. "So funny." You haven't had a conversation with Hajime that had more depth than "how are u? miss u" for the trip's duration. She's your friend, too, though you've never been close, but there's something unbearable about admitting it to her now, when you're so unsure of your relationship's current status. It has to mean something that he was keeping her updated and active in his life, didn't it?

You find solace in knowing that you don't blame her at all. If you could find an ounce of resentment for her in your heart, you would probably have left Hajime by now—isn't that the mark of a truly evil plot-pushing girlfriend?

You cry when you see him again.

"Happy tears," you assure him, and hide your face in his shoulder.

Later, alone in his apartment, you bite your lip when Hajime asks if you want to sleep over.

"Okay, babe, I don't want to pressure you," he says, and you can feel yourself tensing up as he speaks. "But I feel like you've been—off all day. Is everything okay?"

You blanch and focus on the cowlick on the right side of his head, the one that's endeared him so much to you, so you don't have to look him in the eyes. Too much is bubbling up in your throat, your brain thrown into overdrive, and he's staring at you with so much worry in his eyes it's just not right to leave him hanging:

"No."

Hajime makes a noise you don't understand, low in his throat. "Is it because I didn't call enough while I was gone? Because I can explain that, I promise."

"No," you rush to explain. "I don't—it wasn't you, exactly. I've just—ever since we started dating—I think you still love her."

You're picking at your nails, a bad habit you've had since you were small, and he takes your hands in his, smooths his thumbs over the torn cuticles.

"I don't," he says, finally, neutrally, though his face hasn't formed into the cold mask you're used to seeing when she's brought up. "Ever since we started dating?"

"Before," you admit. "I always thought you would get back together. You just seemed so made for each other."

"But we weren't," a little pucker between his eyebrows forms. "So—what did you think when we started dating?"

"When you first kissed me," you say, "I thought maybe it was a one-off. That you wanted something casual. And then it got more serious, and I thought maybe I could just suppress my insecurities until they went away, and I mean, I really thought you liked me."

"I do," his voice grows more agitated, his lips thinning out.

"Yeah, but..." You trail off. "You would do things that made me think, oh, he's just the perfect guy, they just looked so amazing because I was jealous, and then every so often I'd see you interact with her and it wasn't like how we are at all. I know the insecurity is my own fault, that's not on you, but I feel like it's holding both of us back."

"What do you mean holding us back? You don't think you make me happy?" He snaps, and you wince.

"Not like you are with her! Every time she comes in the room you get this look on your face, like you're speechless. Like-like the songs, Haji, I just..."

He lets go of your hands, crosses his arms.

"Do you really think I'd do that to you?"

"No, Haji, I know you'd never cheat. That's why I fell in love with you! You're a good guy, but I don't want you to wake up one day and break both our hearts because she's meant to be your girl and I'm just your fucking girlfriend." Your eyes sting, your chest heaving by the end of the sentence.

"You love me?" He's quieter now, giving you a little more space to breathe.

"What? That's not what I said."

"Yes, it is," he says, a little smile growing at the corners of his mouth, as though he can't control it. "You love me."

"I'm sorry, I don't understand why you're focusing on that," you wipe at your eyes with the back of your hand. "It's true, I just don't get it."

"Because you make me happier than she ever did," he promises, crowding you up against the counter and motioning for you to jump up to sit on top of it after you can go no further. "I'm weird when she's around because she's my ex, sure, but not because I still want her. It... ended badly. It's a miracle we didn't pull the entire friend group into it, and I never wanted to make her look bad to them, so I'm always trying really hard to look, uh, normal around her. We're on better terms now, but I haven't wanted her in years, honey."

"She knew about what you were doing when I didn't," you mumble, feeling small in the stormy release of emotions. "And she knows so much about you I don't in general."

"We grew up together," Hajime reminds you. "It would have been one of the guys. I know I didn't tell her anything. You can check my call history, my texts."

You shake your head. "I believe you."

"Really?" He arches a brow, and you laugh and push gently at his shoulder.

"Yes, really."

"You know how long I had a crush on you before I did anything about it? I thought you weren't interested, and then you finally started being even more affectionate with me than you were with our other friends, and I took the chance."

"Rookie numbers," you preen under his gaze. "I liked you... pretty much as soon as I met you. But I suppressed it 'cause I didn't want to be a homewrecker."

"You're sweet," he chuckles. "I promise, you have nothing to worry about there. I'm never gonna wake up and not be grateful to see you drooling on my bed."

"You're the worst, you know that?"

"Yeah, yeah," he looks at you fondly, swiping his thumbs under your lower lashes. "You love me, though."

"Oh," your lips part. "And the not calling in Japan?"

He scrunches his nose. "I was trying not to spoil anything. I wanted to, uh, discuss it with you first, but you should know my friends and family are all waiting to embarrass me if I have to turn everything around now."

"Okay? I'll consider your dignity, but I make no promises," you tease. He drops his head to your shoulder for a moment, taking a deep breath, and you wind a hand into his hair, petting him until he straightens.

"So, you know how I have that paid internship opportunity back home?" You nod, not wanting to be reminded. You'll do it for him, but... long distance sucks. "I went to their office and turned it down. I want to go through with my doctorate."

"Oh, that's huge!" You gasp. "That's incredible, I'm so happy for you!"

"So the part that has to do with you is, um," he says, "you're planning to stay here, right?"

"Yeah," you say, "my next step is like a twenty minute commute, thankfully."

"I want to finish my schooling in the States," he tells you, "and then after that, I want to go wherever you go."

"Hajime," you start, but he puts a shaking hand on your knee, and that shuts you up.

"I love you," he says seriously. "It's like I said, okay? You make me happier than anyone else. I know you're the one for me, if you'll have me. If not, I get—"

You grab his face and smash your lips into his, and if that doesn't get the message across? You don't know what will.

[bbokicidal]

Hihi congratulations on 1k! Lixie family prompt 3 and 6 please omg I'd die for that cute sight 🥺

Oh, goodness. Ty also!! I really appreciate it n I love seeing u in my notifs all the time!!

Family Prompts #3 & #6 : Having Triplets + Reacting to their Firsts - Lee Felix

Felix... oh, Felix.

Man is STRESSED the second he finds out you're having three babies at once. Buuuut, he's also so, so excited!!!! He's going to spoil the shit out of these babies and if you think otherwise, you're absolutely wrong.

He's doing everything he can during the pregnancy process. Finding a place for you two with a massive room for a nursery - painting that nursery, decorating it with you with pinks, blues, and yellows. I cannot put into words how absolutely excited he is to have three babies with you.

He's also the type to kiss your tummy at every given point he can. He'll sit behind you and hold up your bump every evening for some time so you can relax with the weight off of your back, massage your shoulders for you - keep you as relaxed as possible.

He will do his absolute best to do everything he can for the babies once they're born. Waking up with you to watch what you do when they get fussy, rocking them to sleep when you're too tired to do so, feeding them bottles and changing them so carefully that they fall asleep on the changing table in his gentle hold.

(Before you ask - Yes. They all have his freckles.)

And as they get older, he'll freak out about every thing they do. Especially when one of your daughter's first words is during a little interview where he introduces them to his group members - and the word she says is '아저씨 [Ajussi/Uncle]' to Chan because she remembers him from photos you've shown her.

He'll bawl when he sees them all curled up with their uncles, too. All the little girls just balled up in their arms, one sleeping on Changbin's tummy and chest, one drooling on Jeongin's arm as he holds her, and one clinging to Jisung in her sleep while he sleeps beneath her on the floor.

The first time he brings them with him to work because you're out of town with your family, he cries at that, too. He sniffles a little seeing them now old enough to run around with the others, Jeongin and Seungmin chasing two of them down while the third is entertained by Minho and Hyunjin painting her nails and blowing on them.

And the first time he plays dress up with them, he knows this is all he's ever wanted in life. He fills truly fulfilled - Having his dream career with his best friends, being married to an amazing woman and having three beautiful daughters with her...

[celesteleoves]

“DIMPLES ARE SO CUTE!”

ೃ࿐ EREN YEAGER X FEM!READER

summary: eren only shows his dimples around you.

warnings: eren has dimples, fluff, mentions of spicey things (girls teasing girls ykyk), erens very stoic around people he’s not close with.

-

“can you imagine jean having dimples, mikasa? i mean that would boost his ego too much.” annie laughed as you all sat around armins house.

your friend group had decided to have one big hangout! currently, the girls were sitting in the basement catching up on gossip while the boys went out to get stuff for a barbecue later.

“he still looks insanely good annie, can YOU imagine your boyfriend having dimples?” mikasa retorted back as the rest of us girls laughed.

“at least he’s good in bed-”

“hey, y/n, you like guys with dimples right?” sasha questioned as she downed a can of root beer.

“who doesn’t? dimples are so cute!” you said as the girls agreed.

“historia loves me and my freckles, dimples ain’t got nothing on us.” ymir pulled historia to her chest who only giggled and nodded.

you smiled at the two, they were so cute it drove you nuts. but at the moment, you remembered something about your crush and a feature you noticed about him.

“wait, eren has dimples guys!” you said with a smile on your face like you’d just solve the biggest mystery on earth.

the girls narrowed their eyes at you and then turned their attention to mikasa, who was a bit confused as well.

“don’t look at me, i can’t remember ever noticing eren having dimples. you sure y/n?”

“i swear, just wait till he gets back and look closely! you can see them.”

“she’s so in love she’s imaging eren with her favourite features a guy can have.” historia mocked and you rolled your eyes.

“i swear by it.”

mikasa laughed at your words as the girls listened closely to this newfound information.

“sure you do, i’ve known eren my whole life and i dont ever really see any prominent dimples on his face.”

“mika, let’s also remember she’s heavily obsessed with him. of course she noticed these things.” sasha joined in on the teasing as you groaned.

“fine, maybe you guys are right about the dim-”

“right about what?” jean asked as he, armin, and connie walked into the room with drinks and snacks.

“it’s girl talk, jean.” armin said while putting stuff down on a near coffee table before taking a seat on the couch annie sat at.

“well let me in on it!” jean pestered mikasa as he also joined her on the couch also.

“sasha! of course you ate my favourite chips bro.” connie whined as he noticed the chip bag he brought was in her hands and was now devoured by Sasha’s uncontrollable need for food.

“shut up connie!”

“anyways, we were talking about how y/n says she believes eren has dimples.” historia brought the conversation back and now everyone was listening intently.

“that mean bastard? doubt he could have something as attractive as dimples on his cold, ugly face.” jean said as he emphasized the last few words in a mocking way while mikasa slapped his arm.

armin paused and thought about it before speaking. “actually, he might. i think i almost saw his dimples once but he turned away from me, so i couldn’t see them.”

“see!” you smiled in victory and stood up to grab a coke can but before you could, a hand swooped and grab it right out of your reach. the person raised it above their head.

“don’t mind me, i’m really in the mood for some coke.” the person you guys had been talking about for a while finally arrived, eren.

and god damn, he looked too good even though you saw him thirty minutes ago. somehow, he manages to just get more attractive in your eyes day by day.

“eren, i was gonna have that actually so hand it over.” you smiled and reached to grab it, the visible height difference between you two causing troubles.

your friends went silent as they watched you bicker with each other. they had all been rooting for you two to get together, for a while now. you had easily fallen for him, what you didn’t know as of right know is that he fell harder.

although, one thing that made the whole groups jaws drop was the prominent dimples that appeared through eren’s smile as he looked down at you, his green eyes seeming brighter as he teased you and laughed.

“no fucking way.” annie whispered and nudged armin who only stared at the two with a smile on his face.

“shit man, turns out he does have something as cool as dimples on his face.” jean sighed and leaned into mikasa’s shoulder who only let out a chuckle at that.

truth is, mikasa knew eren had dimples. but, she only saw them when eren was around you or when he talked about you with a smile on his face.

-

a/n: heyyy, so i’m back with the aot oneshots too! im in a aot brainrot bc of the trailer and how sad i am that aot is going to be ending soon :( anyways, hope you enjoyed!

please message me if u have any concerns, suggestions, or a specific aot or mha work in mind that you would like me to write!

[enden-agolor]

i fucking LOVE the way you draw/write jesse, as someone with a chubby/buff build i kind of struggle with insecurities about my size but the way you draw him makes me feel very good. idk im describing it badly but i wanted to ask if your design for him is more chubby or muscly?

Dude thank you 🥺🩵 You described it very well.

It really depends on which time frame I'm drawing Jesse in actually.

In the beginning, I imagine Jesse is quite scrawny. I mean did you see his work out routine in the beginning? He was was doing sit ups and punching flowers. He was definitely lacking muscle (but had enough to be able to lift Reuben up and down that ladder) and as the first couple episodes progress, he stays scrawny but progressively becomes more scarred up until the Portal Hallway episodes.

The Portal Hallway episodes, it takes place many months after the events of the Witherstorm. Jesse and his friends are going on many more adventures, really honing their skills that they acquired over the past few months. Jesse is much more built now. He's buff and tough with the true heart of a hero. Although, once he and his friends get stuck in the Portal Hall, that's when things take a really devastating turn for him. Feeling hopeless and lost for weeks on end, he begins to feel withdrawn from the positivity he was feeling before he ended up stuck here. Traumatic events keep occuring, and with these events, Jesse is of course drawn to remember and replay the events of Reuben's death in his head. He keeps the most of these feelings to himself because his group is already feeling so disheartened about their current situation that the last thing he'd want for them is to know that he's breaking emotionally, so he ends up taking less care of himself. He starts eating with the idea that he has to stay strong for his friends, but even those moments are rare. Food is scarce depending on what portal they are in, so when he finds food, he'll take anything that will keep his energy and strengths up.

By the end of it all, he's actually put on a significant amount of muscle. But it's kind of like a 'at what cost?' scenario.

Things get a bit better for him between then and Season 2 where he's eating better again and keeping all that muscle, but once Season 2 comes and goes, and with everything that happens in the Sunshine Institute and the Underneath, he loses a lot of weight.

It's only after Season 2, where he stays in BeaconTown and eventually finds a love life with Lukas when he really begins putting on weight once again. He's done with hero work. He's done with going on crazy life threatening adventures. Now he just wants to live life for himself rather than putting others first. Lukas helps him a lot through this, with body positivity and lots of love and affectionate touch, it's all the reassurance Jesse has ever needed to feel okay with being himself again. So he ends up putting on that happy weight that couples typically adopt over time when they're in a healthy relationship. Lukas treats him so, so unbelievably well. Finally Jesse gets to eat food for himself without the idea of needing to keep himself strong and powerful once he's finally retired. He indulges himself in his sweet tooth and loves to eat cookies, cakes, and other baked goods that Lukas will bake or bring home. He also really enjoys the fact that he doesn't have to eat alone anymore. He loves sitting at the table and enjoying a meal with his hubby. And the best part, which is something Jesse was horribly self conscious about, is that Lukas loves and adores his pudge. He is so supportive of Jesse's eating habits, but he doesn't hesitate to sneak veggies and fruits into Jesse's lunch box for work.

So yeah uh Jesse is chubby, buff and loved at the end of it all 😍

Here's some lil doodles of him I have lying around. The first one is pretty old and could probably use a touch up since now I don't see much of a difference, but you get the point ☠️

[eevees-hobbies]

What Happens at Ume's Summer Bash, Stays at Ume's Summer Bash! - NSFW

Author’s Note: Well, here it is. I didn’t mean to make the title as long as an old Panic! At the Disco song. God, when I was writing Togame, I had myself feeling a certain type of way. Idk if I’m leading us into a potential Sakura x Togame x Reader threesome or what. Help. Anyway, I’m never beating the Haruka Sakura simp allegations! Giving the people what they didn’t ask for, shit-talking, dominant Sakura.

Synopsis: You’re invited to Umemiya’s Annual Summer BBQ Bash! Pull up a chair, pour yourself a drink, and have some fun with old friends! I hope you can avoid temptation from Togame; he’s kind of into you! But as a good girlfriend, you only have eyes for your boyfriend, Haruka Sakura. Wait…what are you doing on that bed? 

Content Warning: Fem!Reader x Haruka Sakura. Mention of alcohol and bodyshots. This may or may not be the same Togame that saw your nudes in Sext Me Like You Mean It. Brief mention of sharing, but not explicit. Aggressive flirting, jealousy, shit-talking, dirty-talking Sakura, teasing but not too mean, fucking where you shouldn’t, fem!reader receiving oral, squirting. Tis smut. Minors Do Not Interact.

Word Count: 3.4K

Dividers by Saradika. Invitation by me

They say there are very few things in life that are guaranteed. Yes, taxes and death are undoubtedly imminent, but the other life-altering event that should be added to that list is Umemiya’s Annual Summer BBQ Bash!

Every Summer, Umemiya invites his closest friends to his home in hopes of hosting a space where you all can exist without the stresses of day-to-day life. 

You and Sakura are excited to attend, but who can blame you? Umemiya’s Summer BBQ Bash is always memorable; this year will be no exception.

The parties can get relatively wild as the alcohol tends to flow freely, and it isn’t unusual for the lines to blur between friendship, one-night stands, and sharing of partners. Plus, the food smacks! Bofurin alums and Jo Togame, who has always felt like an honorary member of the friend group, make up the attendee list.

It isn’t long before libations in shot glasses and red cups make their way around the party, and all the popular Summer hits blast through the stereo speakers loud enough to break a few city ordinances.

You’ve long since abandoned Sakura, who still sits at the table, to dance with Kotoha. Sakura can’t take his eyes off you as you bend over, place your palms against your knees and gyrate your hips to the beat as Kotoha delivers a heavy smack to your ass. It takes every fiber in his being to look away. 

He needs to avert his eyes, not because he’s embarrassed, but because if he doesn’t look away, his head might just pop.

He knew he was going to have a hard time today when you emerged from the bedroom in your outfit: jean shorts that stop barely stopped above mid-thigh, a black band tee that is cropped at the bottom and exposes some of your tummy when you raise your arms even slightly, and low-top black and white chucks. It may be a simple ensemble for you, but it’s a wet dream for him. 

Togame slips into the chair next to Sakura, letting out a deep sigh, “Your girlfriend is insanely hot. Just my type.”

Sakura’s fists clench instinctively, and he has to remind himself that while Togame seemingly has a crush on you, it has been harmless thus far. 

And Sakura isn’t delusional; he knows how attractive you are. He can practically see it now as you and Kotoha dance together. You’re sexy, uninhibited by the judgment of others, and radiating with confidence, all things he admires, and that doesn’t go unnoticed by other men—even some of his friends. 

“You think I don’t know that?”

“It's been a couple of years for you two, right?” Togame continues as he does the mental math, remembering the first time he saw you holding hands with Sakura and mentally berating himself for not being the first to make a move.

“Been together this long and still haven’t put a ring on it or knocked her up? Dangerous game, my man. Women don’t like to wait. Someone else might snatch her up.”

Fuck off sits on the tip of Sakura’s tongue, but despite his annoyance, he can silently admit that what Togame is saying has consumed his thoughts as of late.

The idea of making a baby with you is enough to push him into cardiac arrest, so he tries to think less of that and more of asking you to marry him. 

Baby steps!

And if fear of rejection didn’t cause him immense paralysis, the engagement ring tucked snuggly away in his underwear drawer would already be on your finger.

Their eyes snap back to you as you turn to Sakura and cup your hands around your mouth in an attempt to be heard over the speakers, “Haruka! Come dance with me!”

Sakura shakes his head. You should know better than to ask him to dance outside the safety of your shared living room.

Togame’s eyes light up, however. Your request and your boyfriend's refusal opening an opportune window for him. “I'll dance with her.” 

Before Sakura can protest, Togame’s already pushing himself out of the chair and striding over to you. He can’t hear what Togame says to you over the music, but whatever he says makes you offer a smile and take his hand.

As Togame pulls you flush against his body, you can’t help but feel the pang of disappointment in your chest that it isn’t Sakura coming to dance with you. “I’m going to guess that you didn’t ask Sakura for his permission to dance with me?”

Togame looks down at you, his leer making you shudder from under the immense pressure of it. “I need to ask permission from your handler to dance with you? Didn’t know you were into that, lamb.”

Laaaaaaaaaamb?! If you’re the lamb in this dynamic, Togame is the wolf, licking his pointed fangs as he sizes you up and expands his jaw, ready to bite.

You’re trying not to wilt at his given nickname for you, but Togame knows precisely what he’s doing. 

You aren’t naive to the fact that he’s hot—all 187 centimeters is dripping liquid sex appeal, and he obviously desires you. Still, you don’t take too kindly to being hunted, especially when you’re already smitten, head over heels, and obsessed with a certain cat-eyed hot-head. 

Togame’s hands find refuge on your hips. His grip is solid and arrogant, as though you and he have danced this way before, and it’s a regular occurrence. He’s ducking down between you both so his hair, which has grown longer over the Summer, brushes against your forehead. 

“What would you do if I kissed those pretty glossed lips of yours?”

You crane your neck to look at him, making direct eye contact and challenging his stare so your message is clear: “I’d smack the taste out of your mouth.”

Your response earns a deep purr from Togame’s throat; he loves how firey you are, and it only stokes his desire for you. You can feel his hands snaking around your hips, his fingers pressing firmly into the exposed skin of your midriff until they rest dangerously close to the top of your ass.

“Sakura’s lucky he got to you first because in any other situation where he hadn’t, you’d be my girl.”

“There’s not an alternate reality in which I wouldn’t be Sakura’s girl,” you pause as you hear familiar heavy footfalls. “And if it keeps you up at night, which I desperately hope it does, I pursued him.”

“Of course you did. Because you take what you want.” Togame’s jaw clenches, not in anger, but in something more primal, and his eyes don’t betray everything he wants to say and do to you at that moment, but he’s interrupted when Sakura places a hand on his shoulder.

“You heard my girl.” The way Sakura says “my girl” makes you shiver; his voice is low, offering an unspoken threat to his friend.

Togame steps aside, that predatory look in his eye dissipated as he shoots you both a half smile. His absence allows Sakura to take his place, hands resting on your hips.

Hiragi sighs, finally dropping the water hose he was fully ready to unleash on Togame and yourself. “Why does this party always make people act like they’re in heat?”

Umemiya chuckles as he pours himself some punch, “Good question! But, hey, at least you haven’t had to use the water hose this time…yet!”

You beam up at Sakura, your stomach practically executing Olympic-level summersaults as you lean into his frame—close proximity and PDA all subsets of a love language that you so desperately crave from him.

“He is obsessed with you.” His cheeks are tinted red, more than likely from the combination of your affection, the interaction he had witnessed between you and Togame, and the beers he has ingested 

“Hadn’t noticed. Hey, I have to go to the bathroom. Come with me?”

“You need my help in the…bathroom? Ok.” You’ve certainly had stranger requests, but he refuses to leave an opening for Togame to corner you again. 

As you enter Umemiya’s home, you immediately pull Sakura into the room closest to the left, which also happens to be Ume’s bedroom. The master bedroom is simple and minimalist, but it benefits from an extensive amount of natural light from the sliding glass door that leads out to the backyard. You can see your friends, and they presumably could see you if they came close enough and weren’t so distracted by taking body shots off Tsugeura’s body.

“Wha??? This isn’t the bathroom.”

“Sakura, that was an obvious cover. I wanted some alone time with you.” 

A crimson blush crawls from his neck to the tips of his ears. “In here?”

The silken sheets of Umemiya’s bed smell freshly washed, somehow still warm from the dryer as you pull them back and sink into them.

Sakura bites his lip as you hold out a hand. You are temptation personified in your jean shorts, with the skin of your tummy peaking out and beckoning to him. 

You’re going to be the death of him.

He climbs on top of you, already making quick work of the button to your pants. “A-are we about to fuck in Umemiya’s bed?” Your voice is shakey, but your eyes are unblinking and mischievous as you stare at him. 

“I don’t want to think about it.” As he tosses your shorts—and underwear soon after–aside, he disappears under the covers. You let out a gasp as his tongue pokes at your pussy, pulling each labia into his mouth and sucking hungrily. If you two intended for a quick romp beneath the sheets of Umemiya’s bed, that’s now suddenly out of the window.

It isn’t long before Sakura is eating you out like it has been too long without his favorite meal, delivering gentle nips of your folds in between intense suckles to your clit that make you buck your hips. He lets out a growl and wraps muscled arms around your thighs, pulling you closer to him so that his mouth is suctioned against your clit.

Your moans are uncharacteristically soft and tempered out of fear that if anyone were to enter the house, they’d be able to hear you. But it’s hard to contain yourself as Sakura fucks you with his tongue, loud, messy, wet lapping sounds as your essence dribbles onto his tongue.

He briefly pulls away from your drooling cunt, “Oh, don’t try to be quiet now.” Then he’s back to burying his face in your heat, shaking his head from side to side, swiping his tongue against your clit. As he devours you, slurping and his needy moans fill your ears. Your eyes flutter closed, and you can’t help but take in the scent around you. It smells exactly like Umemiya and makes you feel like he’s in bed with you both. You cover your face with your arm as the thought has you clench around Sakura’s tongue.

“Mmm, that’s my girl..”

The continuous, unrelenting licking and slurping contribute to the intense buildup of flutters deep within your abdomen until you finally release, warm and thick in Sakura’s mouth. He moans, swallowing happily, enjoying his much-deserved reward. 

You’re lightheaded, but you still crave more. Mental gymnastics have you thinking that if you haven’t been found by a party attendee yet, why not take a chance on some extra fun? 

“Sakura, fuck me, please. I need you.”

Sakura raises himself from between your thighs, bringing the bedsheet with him so you’re both trapped in the confines of it, and despite there being so little light, your eyes quickly adjust to the smirk on his face.

“Yeah? Say that again.”

“Sakura, I’m not going to beg for it.”

“You sure about that?” You can feel him dragging the fat tip of his dick against your folds, pressing the leaking head against your entrance with so little pressure that it feels cruel.

Ok, maybe you could beg for it a little.

You raise your hand to his face, dragging a thumb against his bottom lip, which is still saturated with your cum.

“Baby, please, I am literally begging you to fuck me.”

The corner of his mouth twitches. His pretty girl asking ever so nicely for his cock. The power play turns him on—hearing you, his queen, treating his dick as a much-needed commodity. 

But he thinks you can do a little more begging.

He grips his cock and delivers harsh smacks against your sopping wet hole, reveling in the buttery, sharp wet sounds it makes. 

“Sakura,” you growl, “if you don’t put it in-“

His eyes snap up to meet yours. They’re narrowed and intense, almost setting off your fight, flight, or freeze response. “You’ll fuckin’ what?” 

Oh.

Oh.

Fuuuuuck.

You swallow thickly, realizing that maybe you misjudged which Sakura had joined you in Umemiya’s bed today—shy, blushing Sakura was probably still at the table outside. You were under the covers with ex-Bofurin leader Haruka Sakura, the Sakura that likes to fold you like a pretzel and fuck you raw until you’re weak and out of commission for a few days.

Bedroom dynamics are funny like that. 

So, you, ordinarily headstrong and unfaltering, now speak to him in a softer and pleading voice. 

“P-please, Haru.”

He snorts, grabbing one hand of your plush thighs and pushing it up so it’s pressed against your stomach. “Glad you fixed the attitude, brat.” 

As Sakura sinks into you, he can’t help but look down at where your bodies meet, the length of his cock disappearing into the mess of you. He lets out a shaky breath to steady himself and not cum in you before he can leave his mark. As his eyes return to your face, he can’t help but grin, delighted by your blissed-out face. 

“Feels good, yeah?” He asks as though he can’t deduce the answer from how you’re already gripping him.

“Soooo good, baby!”

“That’s all it takes to calm you down? Good dick?”

You would literally build an altar in his name and pray for absolution if it meant access to his dick, so yes, But words are hard when your cunt is stuffed to the brim of the aforementioned good dick, so you simply give him an enthusiastic nod.

“Tell me how you want it, pretty girl.” Once again, he knows the answer. He can feel it the way you desperately choke his cock with your walls, but he wants to hear you say it.

“Hard. So fucking hard, Kitten.”

The only indication that Sakura planned on slamming his cock into your cervix is the sudden way he pressed the tips of his fingers into your thighs, but it was so instantaneous that your brain hardly had time to register the act. The alarming nature of not having a warning or much time to adjust almost made you clamp your legs shut around him, but a low growl and a “No.” keeps you wide open for him.

You gasp and wiggle against him, panting; the sound of shifting linens and his drumming into you roar in your ears as the sheets around you create an echo chamber. He’s fucking you like you belong to him. As though he has the god-given right to mold a path in your cunt. 

“Gonna make you squirt.”

Oh, and you absolutely believe him because you can feel it looming over you like a creeping, ominous shadow. 

“B-but, Ume’s bed-”

“Oh, Haruka, what about Ume’s bed???” he mocks you in the same whiny tone you’re using, then shifts back to speaking normally. 

“You should have thought about that before you were begging for cock.”

Your stomach muscles tighten. His words are so harsh, so aggressive, so good. Your eyes roll back as the unmistakable feeling of a spring so tightly wound up finally uncoiling. Absolute pleasure shoots through you, and a flood of hot fluid coats Sakura’s pubic hair and Umemiya’s sheets. 

“Theeeeere you go,” he praises. Still, he doesn’t stop the abuse of your pussy, fucking you with the added saturation of your cum, making him throw his head back, dual-colored eyes closing, and silently praising whatever god is listening. 

As another orgasm crashes into you, Sakura chuckles and flips you over, so now you’re straddling him, shaking as he holds you flush against his body with fingers wrapped around the back of your neck. “Tapping out already? I’m not even close to being done.” 

His cock doesn’t miss a beat, continuing to fuck at your hole with desperation, trying to prove that his cock is better suited for you than Jo Togame’s. 

“Fuuuuck, Haruka!” 

While you would never encourage the flirtatious behavior of others to incur Sakura’s jealousy, feeling him use you like a cock-sleeve will not garner any complaints from you. You latch your mouth onto one of his nipples, earning a whimper from him.

“G-gonna cum if you do that again.”

You grunt as it hardens against your tongue, amused that his words were meant to deter you.

You both freeze as the sliding glass door to Umemiya’s bedroom opens. Sakura’s pistoning of his hips comes to a halt immediately, and you both cover the other's mouth with a palm.

Kotoha sighs at the sight in front of her: clothes strewn across the floor and the bed unmade with the blankets bunched up into a large mound. She doesn’t attempt to pay attention to the ladies' underwear on the floor, not wanting to think about Umemiya’s extracurriculars too much. 

“You could have cleaned up your bedroom before inviting us over! Now, where did you say your wallet was?” she calls over her shoulder to Umemiya.

Umemiya, too busy flipping burgers in the air with the practiced precision of a grill master, shouts back, “My room is clean, Koooootoooohaaaaaa! My wallet should be on my nightstand!”

You and Sakura are staring into each other's eyes, panic-stricken as Kotoha rummages through the drawers closest to your heads. 

Your mind can’t help but wander as you imagine her pulling back the sheets and finding Sakura’s balls plastered to your slit, messy love-making evident under the puddle of saliva and cum soaked into the sheets beneath you.

Your cunt twitches erratically, still wrapped around the base of Sakura’s cock.

Sakura glares at you, in disbelief at your depravity but not too shocked because he knows you. His eyes seemingly scream, “Pervert! Pervert! Pervert!”

“Here it is!” the sound of footsteps receding and the sliding glass door closing, quieting the voices and sounds of the party, allows you both to relax.

Sakura pulls his hand off your mouth, “Were you seriously squeezing my dick at the idea of being caught!?”

“Couldn’t help it,” you whine as you wiggle against him.

“You love the idea of someone watching me fuck you, huh? That’s fucking filthy.” his hands return to the top of your ass as he gives you a few upward thrusts.

“Fuck, you’re wetter now than when we started. You want me to go get all our friends, let them watch me fuck this pussy?”

“Y-you would never,” you say through moans.

“You don’t have a clue what I think about at night. Heh, how about we grab Togame? I know he’d love to see you spread open.”

“Baby, I’m going to-”

“Then fucking cum.”

A rapturous, otherworldly, blissful orgasm rips through your body, and Sakura follows soon after. Your mouths crash into one another in a messy and loud kiss as you exchange groans and moans. 

Sakura’s half-lidded eyes open as he looks at you, “what should we do with the sheets?”

“Hope they dry on their own? I mean, it’s probably not that bad, right?”

After you and Sakura get dressed, you pulled back the sheets and cringed at the sight of wet stains covering the expanse of his sheets. 

“I hope he has a mattress protector on.” Sakura slowly turns to you with a raised eyebrow as if this is your fault!

“Shutup, shutup!” You push him out of the room, hoping the sunlight shooting in through the sliding glass doors can dry the linens. 

As you enter your shared bedroom, Sakura quickly closes his underwear drawer and turns to you with a blush on his face.

“Don’t worry, I’m not going to look at your naughty magazines. Ume just texted me.”

“I dont HAVE naughty magazines!” He registers what you just said and shoots you a look. “Texted you…?” 

“He said that there was a spare bedroom that we were more than welcome to use if we had just asked.”

[linaliteracy]

Will it pass? Bangchan x reader.

Pairing: Bangchan x reader.

Summary: You love Chan, how could you not? He is your best friend. Your problem? You love him too much and cannot stand him near you or your heart will break. college!au

Note: I came back to write some fica because I have been feeling very sad, and writing always makes me feel better, I hope I can keep up with this! Sorry if it has any mistakes. English is not my first language. Leave me suggestion or comments on the ask box!

"Where are you going?" Chan asks, standing up from the sofa where he was sitting, as soon as you grabbed your backpack. 

The guys decided to have a small get-together at Chan and Minho's apartment. It was a Friday night, classes were over, and everyone wanted to socialize and get school out of their system somehow.

You had those plans too, until Chris told everyone that he invited the girl he was hooking up with. You wouldn't have a problem if one of your friends brought a hookup to these meetings, but with Chan, it was different.

He was always different. Since the moment you met him, you knew he was special. He was sitting at the end of the lecture in the classroom and you were partnered up for a project; after that, you knew he would be someone special for you. It took you a year to understand why he would be special, and you would feel the need to be around him and share everything with him. He was the first one you told about your things and thoughts; when you understood why that urge was there, it was a bit late. You realize he didn't see you the same way you did, and the worst part is that he had found someone else. It wasn't official, just a distraction, as he said, but still...

You understood that, but you wanted him close to you. Better a bit of his heart than none of it, right? But at one time it felt masochist to be near him, as you could hear your soul crush.

"Um... I have some things to finish for class," you excuse yourself while picking up your backpack. 

It was a shitty day for you, and you didn't want to see your crush/best friend being lovey-dovey with someone else. He wasn't one on PDA, or you thought, but you didn't want to see if you were right or not.

"But you were happy because you finished all..." Hyunjin said, handing you your jacket that was on the chair he was sitting at.

"Yeah, but I remembered I had some things to do, so I didn't finish all, i guess," you chuckle and start walking to the door.

Felix looks at you, and you smile at him. He leaves the dishes on the table and walks to open the door for you.

"You su-" Chan tries to speak, but you cut him off.

"Yeah, see you all." 

Felix opens the door and follows you, right after letting Chan know he would walk you back to your dorm. You leave the apartments and start walking through the part of campus where everyone was. Felix put his arm around your shoulders and hugged you.

"You are a masochist, you know?" He says while hugging you from the side, putting his arm around your shoulders. "You are a very strong girl, Y/n. If it makes you feel any better, I do not like her either, but... he is our friend."

"Yeah, that sucks," you chuckle. "I can get to the dorm by myself; don't worry."

Felix hugs you and holds you for a while. You knew you had him on your side, and you didn't want to lose any of them. You weren't ready to sacrifice the rest of your friendships just for one crush. You never told him your feelings for Chan directly, but he was very observant of the surroundings and the interactions of the group of friends. 

"If you need to, maybe stop seeing him; no one will blame you, you know?" He said when you moved back from the hug, he still had his arms on your shoulders.

"You think so?" You smiled sadly.

"Are you kidding? The guys really admire you; sometimes we forget you are human; we wouldn't be near the person we like if they were with someone else; youre strong." You smiled weakly, and he ruffled your hair. "Take care, kid. Let me know when you get to the dorm." 

Felix walks back to the apartments and sees Chan waiting for him outside of the complex. Chan looked concerned when he opened the door for him.

"What happened?" Chan asked with concern over his words. "She seemed eager to go."

"She had to finish some things," Felix just said and waved his hand, as if bothing happened, and started walking to the apartment.

"Do you think she left because I invited that girl? Maybe she felt uncomfortable." 

Chan tried to find an answer to why you suddenly left, but no answer was convincing enough for him.

You were so excited to hang out with the guys, and suddenly you remember you had something? You were one of the most organized people he knew, so for you to forget to do something was... odd.

"No, I don't think so." Felix didn't speak much about it, trying to brush it off. He didn't want to betray your trust or make his friend feel bad, for that matter. 

Chan stayed there thinking. He really didn't understand what happened, but he couldn't let it weigh him down. But the look on your face when you left wasn't a look you have when you forget something; it was another thing that was bothering you.

A week passed since he had not seen you on campus; he had asked the guys about you, especially Felix, but he said you were okay and just busy with school. You wanted to avoid Chan at all costs; you were able to tolerate it before, but after you accepted your big fat crush... it went downhill. You didn't want to see him, not ever, but until those feelings were normal. So you were trying to be very subtle about it; if he texted you, you wouldn't open the text until you had decided on how you wanted to answer. 

One day he found you at the café on campus. and went up to you and sat in the chair in front of you.

"Hey, stranger," he let his backpack fall to the ground and smiled, with his elbows on the table. "Haven't seen you in a while."

"Yeah..." You gave a smile. He noticed you looked quite sad and bit down.

"You okay, Y/n?" You nod, but he was not convinced. "You can tell me..."

"Christopher," you look at him. "I'm fine, do not worry." You couldn't do this, so you stood up and excused yourself. "I have a class, so I have to go... see you around," you mumbled and walked away from the café.

Ignoring him was getting harder, being honest with him was harder, and at the same time, you were done; you wanted to get it out of your system. You wanted to confess your feelings to him, but you didn't want to lose him. It was a catch 22, all so complicated.

"Y/n, wait!" The door of the café opened right after you left. Chan was coming after you; he got closer and stopped in front of you. "Why are you going so fast? We haven't seen each other. Is like... like you are... avoiding me?"

You sighed and nodded. He got the memo; now you had to be honest.

"I have; I have been avoiding you." You said and looked up to him.

"Why?" He seemed so confused you just wanted to make up a lie and keep him next to you as a friend... but you couldn't do that to yourself.

"Because I like you and you're about to be dating someone, and I don't want to break my heart anymore."

Silence. Total silence. It was like any surrounding noise stopped, the wind didn't make a sound, the birds were quiet, and the people had stopped talking.

"What?" He looked so confused. You just nodded and shurg. "You like me?" He asked again, and you nodded again.

He stood quiet for a while when he spoke again.

"And you dont want to see me because you like me?" He asked as you nodded. 

You couldn't speak much, but you didn't want to hurt him... You looked at your hands and spoke softly:

"It has nothing to do with you. You haven't done anything bad."

"But shouldn't you want to be near me? If you like someone, you want to be close to them." He said it as a matter of fact.

He was correct, but... you sighed, so you spoke a bit louder than before, so he would understand your point.

"When they are single, yes. And youre not... youre in something with someone else. and I don't want to see you fall in love with someone else in front of me," you admit.

"But we are friends...

"We are, but I can't just look at you as a friend anymore, and I feel physically sick when I see you with her, so it's best if we keep a distance... I will do that.

"Its unfair..."

Your soul fell to your feet and felt like you were freezing.

"What you mean?" You questioned.

"I don't want to lose you; you're my friend, and I need you... but I don't."

"I... can't be a good friend for you now, Chris." You said. "You deserve the best, and right now I am not at my best, not for you, at least.

"Will it stop? Like... your crush?

You looked at him with wide eyes. How could you control that?

"Maybe, maybe not... I can't be-" 

"But, can I still count on you?" He asked urgently.

"You... um... you can't; I am not reliable for you right now, Chan." You smile sadly. You were going to give him a hug, but you just nodded and left. "I need to go. Have a good day."

And like that, you confessed to him, and you let your closest friend know how you felt about him. And like that, you lost him, but you were oddly calm; you knew it was the best for the both of you; you just didn't know how long it would take for you to understand that.