#I’m not drawing with my fingers anymore baby! let’s go!

[possiblyfunny]

SURPRISE ITS ANOTHER DRAWING-

Silent Orders

(Inspired by a drawing made by Clover_Noir on twitter of the same name. It gave me Fire vibes for some reason-)

Fire is made by @creatively-cosmic for their story, Missing Numbers. They have an ask blog called @themissingnumbers, so please go check them out if anybody sees this.

Extras are below the cut.

I don’t do backgrounds like this often. It’s not very good, but I’m still proud of this one :)

[drewsbraziliangf]

nothing to say when heaven falls | Drew Starkey x black!reader

summary: what can you do when the person that’s supposed to understand and be on your side chooses to doubt your fears?

Word count: 1388

a/n: not edited, we die like soldiers!!!!! pls let me know if you wish to be added to my taglist

"How can't you see how disrespectful this is to me, Drew?" You ask with a strained voice and teary eyes. "Everywhere you go she's looming like a shadow."

"She's my friend, what do you want me to do?" Exasperated, he asks.

"I don't know. Maybe tell her that your fiancé doesn't feel comfortable with her following you around, traveling abroad to see you or fuck, being all fucking touchy and handsy with you in public."

My throat was burning as the words slipped my mouth but I simply couldn't avoid it any longer. I am so tired of this whole situation and it has been going on for far too long. I just can't hold it back anymore.

"Can't exactly tell her what to do," he rolled his eyes this time.

"Really? Am I really asking for that much?" I look at the man in front of me with disbelief, "I just want to feel like I'm not invisible in my own goddamn relationship. She sees you more than I do and I am the one with a ring on my finger. How is this fair?" 

"Babe, listen, there's nothing going on between me and her. You have to believe me," he pleads as he runs his hands through his hair.

"You don't think I'm trying to believe you? I'm in the trenches everyday telling myself this over and over again, but how can I turn a blind eye to it when the first thing I see whenever I'm online is that you're both coincidently in the same city. For the millionth time."

I know that pulling this out in the open this way isn't the best option. But how could I keep bottling all of this up when it's causing such a heavy pain in my chest every time I see their names together?

It was always clear the perks of dating a public figure and I never backed out on it. Now seeing the man who asked me to spend the rest of my life with him and have his babies walking around with the woman everyone swears he was romantically involved with is messed up.

“I don’t know what you want me to do,” he admits as he walks away from me.

That felt like a punch. Because how could I make it anymore obvious? Do I have to draw it to a thirty year old why he should respect the woman he chose to propose to? 

“Are you for real right now?” I asked as I follow him into the kitchen of our shared apartment. “Did you really just said that to me, Joseph?”

At this point it felt like there was no going back anymore, either this was going to be totally fixed here or it wouldn’t at all. The bandaid was ripped and the wound was open and burning.

“How can you be so dull? You really can’t see what the problem here is?” 

I watch as he fills a glass with water and turns his back to me. He did it twice already. The off white walls of the kitchen lacked the warm they always brought when we were in it together. It felt claustrophobic and like the roof was going to fall over our heads at any given minute.

“You’re acting like I’m cheating on you. Like this is some major fuck up. It isn’t, you’re turning it into something it isn’t.” His tone was cold but looking at his posture it was clear that he was trying to maintain his calm.

The condescending tone in his voice made me want to shrink into myself and hide away from the world.

“Oh, right. Yeah, blame it on me for thinking that my fiancé going out of his way to be with his ex fuck buddy isn’t normal.”

“Careful,” he warns once finally looks at me.

“Or what, Drew? What else could you possibly do that will make me feel worse than I already do?” I challenge, my gaze locked on him as I wait.

After a few minutes of us staring down at each other, he shakes his head and sighs. 

“I’m not doing whatever this is. I’m done entertaining this,” he declares and he leans against the countertop.

Drew and I met around two years ago through a mutual friend. We instantly hit off and after a few dates, he officially asked me to be his girlfriend - which I obviously accepted. We had this instant connection that isn’t common. At first I was terrified of it, I knew who he was and the fact that his life was always being scrutinized by thousands of people. I knew what people said online about him and as we got closer and closer I couldn’t help but lose myself in the speculations about him even more.

Our relationship was great and we always made sure that each others boundaries were respected, so color me stoked to be in this situation right now. I am not dumb and every single day there is a needle pinching me making me think of stuff and situations like the one we find ourselves right now just indulge those thoughts.

In the early days of our relationship we made sure there were no secrets between us and past relationships. I knew I was his first black girlfriend, I knew he was born and raised in the South too. So joining that and the fact that I am an immigrant did make me scared of a lot of things, the main of them being the fact that it isn’t uncommon at all for men to always find their way back to that they are used to. 

So seeing her upon him all the time while people online barely know about our relationship feels like hell. Because even though I’m in family pictures that his sisters post online, and the very visible ring on my finger I am never considered the option of being his significant other. She is. Every single time. And he never did anything about it - hell, he never even set boundaries with her and she knows that we’re together. Am I really reading too much into things? 

Being three months away from our wedding day, this isn’t the kind of thought or conversations I would like to be having. I should be fucking excited and dress hunting, but lately the only thing that I feel like doing is swallowing lumps and holding back tears, faking smiles and pretending I’m fine. I’m not, I’m fucking falling apart and I’m so tired of begging to be seen. 

“I don’t know how else to tell you that I am not comfortable with this and that you shouldn’t be either,” I point out as the first tear cross the edges of my cheeks. “I don’t know how else to ask you to respect our relationship.”

“I respect our relationship, I always did. I just don’t think that what you’re saying right now makes any sense. Whatever I had with her in the past is over.” He says as he runs one of his hands through his face.

“Drew, honey, you’re not seeing things from my point of view. Imagine if it was me catching planes every other day to be with someone that I was involved in with in the past. And all of our friends know that you and I are together. How would that make you feel?”

At that he says nothing but silence can mean many things, and in this case it means consent. 

Tired of this back in forth conversation, I reach for my phone that was besides his on the counter and as if the timing couldn’t be more right, the screen of his phone lights up with an incoming call. No surprise flashes through my features as I see the picture on the caller id, both of them in a mirror picture as they brush their teeth.

“I can’t do this anymore,” I confess watching as he reaches for his phone quickly declining the call. “Not when you’re up to your eyeballs into whatever this is. I’ll make the calls tomorrow and cancel the dates with the venue.”

I grab my phone and my purse and I walk towards the front door before he can say anything else, I’m closing it behind me. 

[suguann]

tags. fem!reader, the overused 'i know we're supposed to be fwb but i fell in love with you anyway' trope, confessions, gojo mentally spiraling during sex over how much he's in love with you because that's a very him thing to do [18+ only]

Gojo can’t tear his eyes off you as you move above him—riding his cock like this would be the last time you’d ever feel it inside you. That thought twists his insides, his fingers digging into your hips as if you might float away before he ever really had a chance to voice the words he’s been too scared to say.

But he couldn’t really stop you if you wanted to leave—that’s how the groundwork of uncomplicated arrangements like these work, at least in the beginning. He likes to think that a lot has changed since that night in your living room between two drunk, lonely people with nothing to lose aside from your torn underwear in his haste to get them down your soft legs and an old condom tucked away in his wallet.

The feeling sneaks up on him without his knowing, a throbbing in his chest that festers and grows over time until he can’t ignore it anymore or contain it in the proverbial cup of his hands no matter how hard he tries.

It doesn’t dampen how much he wants to mold the shape of his cock inside your tight little cunt, to ruin you for anyone else who thought they even had a chance, to have his name be the first thing you think of when you cum. He wants to make every part of you his, and he only hopes you want the same thing, too.

He groans at the thought, gripping you tight to slam his hips up into you. “Tell me who’s fucking you so good. Tell me who’s the only one that gets to make you cum.”

“You, Toru!” you sob, holding onto his biceps to keep yourself from falling against his chest. It has his balls drawing up tight, and he sucks in a breath to stop this from being over too soon.

“That’s right, pretty girl,” he grunts. “I’m the only one who gets to see you like this. I’m the only one who gets to feel this sweet princess cunt.” He leans up to suck one of your nipples into his mouth, groaning when he feels you clench down around him.

“I-I’m gonna cum,” you choke out.

“Yeah?” His fingers circle over your clit as he shoves his cock deeper inside of you to take you there faster, nipping at the swell of your breast. “Fuck, give it to me, baby. Lemme feel it.”

His name is soft and sweet on your tongue as you cum, squeezing around him until his eyes roll back from how good it feels. It has him following after you, grinding his cock as far as it can go while he pulses and fills you to the brim. There’s so much that he feels it leak out of your little hole and drip down his balls to pool in an uncomfortable wet puddle forming beneath him.

He rolls away from the mess when you both catch your breath, his softening cock still tucked away between your wet thighs. You stroke his hair, your nails lightly scratching his scalp, and he buries his face into your chest, words weighing heavy in his chest.

Maybe he should cut the bullshit already, say what he wants to say, and get let down easy while he still has a chance to recover from rejection—

“Sleep with me?” he asks, voice muffled and a shade of red high on his cheeks.

You giggle, lightly tugging on his hair. “I probably need at least—”

“No,” he cuts you off nervously, heat rising to his ears. “No sex. Just to sleep…here. With me?”

When you don’t say anything right away, he wonders if there’s any way he can take back his words and whether you’d believe him if he told you it was all a joke. But then you tug the blanket over both of you, tucking the corners in so the air from the ceiling fan doesn’t reach your cooling skin, and continue running your fingers through his hair.

There’s a warmth in his chest, which he thinks might be what love feels like.

After a moment, you say, “If you steal the blankets, I’m kicking you off the bed.”

Gojo snorts, smiling against your breast. “But it’s my bed.”

You hum. “Yes, and I’ll do it anyway.”

“Just so we’re clear, I’m still going to fuck you later.”

“Go to sleep, Satoru.” He can’t see it but knows you’re smiling, too.

Masterlist

[annewithaneofthegreengable]

Kinktober - Day 16

16th — toys, Lando Norris

The previous day I The next day I Kinktober masterlist I Main list

"What about you honey, how is work going?" Lando's mom asks from the other end of the table.

"It's going great actually, not to jinx it but I might be getting a-" You gasp when you feel the vibrations inside you.

"A what?" His dad questions.

"Go on my love, tell them." You glare at your boyfriend that thinks it's so funny to tease you right now.

"A p-promotion. You clear your throat trying to get yourself together.

As Lando's parents congratulate you in your head you're just thinking that this was such a terrible idea. It seemed so exciting when you first talked about it but not so much in this moment as you rub your thighs together feeling the little egg vibrator deep inside you. To his parents he seems to be just casually playing with his phone, but you knew the app he had open like the back on your hand and every time you see his thumb moving up you press your lips together to hold in a moan.

You try to keep the conversation going but it's getting harder as you can feel your panties get soaked by the second. You sneak some glances at him but he just looks so relaxed and chill like he's not making a mess out of you as he draws random shapes with his finger on the screen.

After some time you're practically dripping on your chair and you don't know how much more you can take before you either give into the pleasure and let yourself cum in the middle of the restaurant or just sneak a hand between your legs and pull the toy out.

"I'll be right back." You politely excuse yourself deciding to go for a third safer option.

You walk to the bathroom, struggling to walk normally with your legs just wanting to give in, but as you're closing the door a hand stops it. Lando steps inside locking the door behind him.

"What are you doing?" He teases. "This is not what we agreed."

"I know, I just." You whimper, legs shaking. "I can't take it anymore."

"C'mon baby, I know you can." He steps closer, phone on his hand making the vibrator hit its highest setting only to drop it down to nothing.

"Lando, please..." You plea letting yourself lean back against the wall.

"What is it?" He smirks. "Do you or do you not want to cum?"

"I do..." You bite your lip as the vibrations go back up.

"Then come back to the table." His voice is dark and full of lust.

"I can't..." You moan taking his free hand under your dress to feel your drenched underwear. "Do you think I can go back like this?"

"Damn baby, I didn't know you were this wet." Pulling your panties to the side he runs a finger between your folds pushing it inside you until he feels the toy vibrate against his fingertip.

You hold his shoulders for support, moaning loudly without caring if everybody can hear you outside this bathroom, all you want is to cum and by the way he moves the vibrator inside you it won't take long.

“Don’t you just love it, darling?” His eyes didn’t leave your swollen core. One huge sweet smile painted on his face, such a contrast from all of the scenarios in his head. “Do you love me doing this to you?”

You could only answer him with a rapid nod. Head unable to make up a word, making your mouth to just let out countless whines and mumbles. Your hips moved slightly, getting closer to the toys in hope for them to get you closer to your high. Again.

“Greedy baby wanted more of my toys, hm?” He pressed the vibrator harder to your clit as he moved the silicone dildo faster.

Your screams echoed through the walls, your back arched to the wall. Your sight blurred as your eyes started to prick with tears. “I– I’m close, Lan. I– Want you please. Want to cum on you.” You’re just spitting every word you can make at this point.”

Lando giggled as he looked at you pleading. He put the toys beside on the sink as he try to undo his belt, “And my princess will get whatever she wants.”

Once his pants is off, he grabbed your waist to flip you against the sink, your face now facing the mirror inthe bathroom. Butterfly kisses were left by him on your shoulder blade as he pushed into you in one push. Moans and groans merged together as your warm walls wrapped him tightly.

“I’ve fucked you with that toy yet you’re still this tight– Fuck.” He bit the skin where your neck and shoulder met, making a mark to bloom there. 

He grunts, thrusting deeper into you, his hands gripping your hips hard enough to leave bruises. He pounds into you relentlessly, the sound of flesh slapping against flesh filling the small bathroom. The mirror fogged up from your combined breaths and exertion.

"You love this, don't you? Love being filled by me, loved by me," he growls, nipping at your earlobe. "Tell me how much you need it, baby. Tell me how much you crave my cock."

His words are filthy, but they only spur you on, making your inner walls clench around him tighter. You're so close, teetering on the edge of oblivion.

"That's it, scream for me," Lando commands, slamming into you with brutal force."

With a loud groan, Lando hilts himself fully inside you, his release pulsing hotly against your cervix. He buries his face in the crook of your neck, panting heavily as aftershocks wrack through his body.

"Fuck...you feel incredible, Honey," he rasps, placing soft kisses along your sweat-slicked skin. "Love you so damn much..."

He slowly pulls out, both of you wincing at the loss. With gentle hands, he turns you around to face him, cupping your face tenderly. His thumbs brush over your cheeks, wiping away the tears that escaped during your intense coupling.

"My beautiful girl," Lando murmurs adoringly, leaning in to capture your lips in a searing kiss.

Taglist:@formula1-motogpfan@iamafootballfanmiasanmia@arian-directioner@annimausi@mythicalmaven @lucycowr @hamilton-mount @Chuxk-leclerk @landosgirl @Kikiaaaay @iluvvmeeee @stars4me @starz4me1 @fxrmuladaydreams @Ashleyo1611 @ln-fours @cloud-55 @neo-stay @mysteriesincorporated @nzygftoji @dinodumbass @qxeenjen @lilmacabe @9fi @sya-skies @toriiez @jud-3 @ryl-xoxo @fandomz-queenie @gracie23x @kr1sblog @b-law @F1fan24 @taylorsdoratheafr @missevrythingg @salma @cherrypopsicle @toasterpiastri @uhhvictoria @01rrdbull @aracelys-stuff @horseymchorse3 @lou-ghoul @unknownmystery22 @thisbitxhs-blog @toxicdreamer296 @maxivstappen @si1ver06 @mendes-bae @bestgirlie @mbioooo0000 @depressedgiftedburnout @lieslostinsilence @chaoticversion @kaydesssssssss @maryelizaart @milkyymelanine @bisrae @carlando4 @mystichandspruneshark @sweetwh0re @larastark3107 @fiveyjustin @moonchildlec @bicrazybabe @maximumflaps @sainzwife @i--sa @liviav @nitonan-blog @moodymoony71 @horrible-decision @verstappenluv111 @Meyla123X @bea-stilinksi24 @Hayley125 @imjustme-n @elizamoe133 @bernelflo @evie-likes-stuff @anne1444444 @celtis--vr @rockytheluver @orlafitz1664 @aliceespector @ricciadosredbull @novelant @briannamh07 @oliveswiftly @hotlapshottakes @sinners-98-world @ramenblutte @fallenlunar @little-nando14 @fore45fore @importantduckhumanoidpatrol @eroselless @strabunny @sydneyhlove @jkdaddy01 @multi-fandom5 @f1-hoff @kittylolly4 @reguluscrystals @uhhvictoria @arian-directioner @forza-dolce @dukeofjjune @vimayxo @ilove-tswizzle @peachapat119

[alwaysanundertone]

Day 8: first time | Regulus Black

smut

TW: piv, fingering

"I'm a virgin" You peaked out from your hands, Regulus freezing suddenly, his hands still gripping your underwear harshly. He blinked a couple of times, making you panic. "Sorry for not telling you this before, but I was scared you wouldn’t be interested anymore if I told you, I’m so sorry”

“Stop it” You bit your lower lip, looking down. “You should have told me sooner, baby. I’m kind of offended you think so little of me, though. Do you still want to do this or not?”

You nodded. “Yes! Yes, of course. It’s just- I thought it wasn’t fair, you should have known this before”

He kissed your nose. “Thank you for telling me, love, and for trusting me this much. I love you” You smiled sheepishly. He proceeded to undress you, this time he was taking his time, kissing every bit of skin he exposed, making you feel nearly crazy with need.

“Reggie, please”

He chuckled. “I’m going to take my time, baby, you just lay here and enjoy”

You scoffed. “I’m not enjoying all of this teasing, though”

He raised his eyebrows. “So bratty, love. Should I stop?” You gripped him by his collar, bringing him close to your lips. You kissed him harshly, you felt his hands caressing your hips before gripping them tightly, making you moan in his mouth. “So needy” He brought one of his hands right above your pussy, eliciting a gasp out of you. Slowly, tentatively, he started massaging your clit over your panties.

“Regulus”

“I know, baby, I know. Such a good girl for me, so pliant under my touch” You arched your back, you could feel yourself getting wetter by the minute. Somehow, his touch was enough to make you wet, but not enough to satiate your neediness. He kept up a steady rhythm, his rough digits pressing on your white lace panties. “Now, won’t you look at that? Look at the mess you made, maybe we should just throw out these, don’t you think?” Suddenly, your underwear was in shreds, you stared at him, mouth open.

He didn’t give you time to react, his finger slowly, but surely, entering you, making you moan loudly. Sure, you had touched yourself before, but it had never felt this amazing before.

“You’re already so wet for me, baby” You didn’t respond, kissing him, sucking on his bottom lip; he chuckled in your mouth. “I love how responsive you are. So good f’me”

He added another finger, making you arch your back, your eyes wide open. You tried to wiggle your hips, to no avail. He tsked, holding you down with his other hand. “No moving or I’ll stop, you choose” You instantly froze, making him burst out laughing. “Good girl” he kissed your nose. He picked up his rhythm, his thumb pressing down on your clit, drawing soft moans out of your mouth.

“Regulus, please, I need more”

He cooed at you. “Honey, I need to prepare you, don’t want to hurt you”

“But I’m ready” You whined in his mouth, but he shook his head.

“Not enough, you’re going to come on my finger like a good girl, then you’ll deserve my cock” He curled his digits upwards, making you gasp. Suddenly, coming on his cock didn’t seem so impossible. “Yeah, that’s more like it” He kissed you roughly, with hunger, as you failed to keep up with the rhythm.

You started to feel your muscles tense, a knot forming in your stomach, it was like you could have touched the sky with your finger, like you were on top of the world. “Regulus, what”

“You’re about to come, baby, let go for me and relax”

You did, explosions behind your eyelids, your head spun a little. All the while, he worked you through it, whispering in your ear, praising you.

Once you came down from your high, you saw him opening a condom, blushing furiously when you saw his dick for the first time. He noticed it, obviously, and gave you a soft smile as you averted your gaze. "Do you trust me, baby?"

You nodded as he positioned himself on top of you, your legs wrapping around his hips without much thought; one of his large hands engulfed one of your thighs, massaging it softly before squeezing it. "You're so beautiful, honey" He kissed your neck sloppily.

As he probed your entrance with his dick, you tensed. “Love, you gotta relax, let me in gorgeous” He traced his tongue up, nipping at your earlobe, making you gasp. “Gonna make you feel so good baby”

You sighed, his sweet talking was really doing a number on you, you felt yourself getting impossibly wet, your back arching. He entered you with one slow thrust, not stopping until he was fully inside of you, your hips against his. He groaned, loosing his composure for a moment.

“Fuck” He stilled, his brows scrunched up.

After a while, you shimmied your hips, only for him to grasp them tightly. “Love, if you want this to feel good I have to last, and you moving your hips and squeezing my dick isn’t helping”

You blushed furiously. “Sorry, I just- I need”

He dipped down, kissing you, ending your stuttering. “I know, love. Let me do the work, okay, baby?”

Suddenly you felt all the love you had for your boyfriend bubbling up, it was in the way he cared about you even in this moment, the way his main goal was always to make you feel good. It overwhelmed you, tears coming out of your eyes in delicate lines. Regulus panicked.

“Love? Are you hurting?” He searched your face, one of his hands cupping your cheek. You shooked your head. “Then what is it? Should we stop? Are you feeling uncomfortable?”

You took a deep breath, feeling ashamed. “It’s just that I love you so, so much” You smiled up at him, and he melted into you, his nose nuzzling your neck.

"I love you too, sweet girl. My gorgeous, sweet, girl" He caressed your hip. "Are you feeling any pain?"

You shook your head. "No, you can move"

He kissed you, before slowly dragging his dick outside of you, pushing it back in an excruciating rhythm. You arched your back, the pain morphing into pleasure, grounding you.

"Regulus" You sighed, your head pushed into the pillows.

"I know, baby, I know. I love you" His hand flied to your clit, massaging it lightly. He picked up his rhythm, the other hand grabbing your ankle, positioning it on his shoulder, the new angle making your eyes cross. "Who do you belong to, baby?"

You moaned. "You, Reggie" He smiled, kissing your nose.

"Does it feel good, baby? Look at this, look at how perfect we fit together" He directed your jaw so that you were watching his dick pushing into you, making you blush furiously. "Do you want to come, love? Are you going to come on my dick like the good girl I know you are? mh?"

You nodded, incapable of forming any coherent thought. "Then come, baby, come on my cock, claim what's yours" You did, the muscles in your thighs flexing, your vision blacking out for a while as his hips stuttered and he found his release.

He collapsed on top of you, his dick still in you, as you both caught your breath.

tags: @sxmnc @peterparkerspersonalplaything @riaaavm @iamawkwardandshy @eeviee4 @mysterialee @famouscrusadeluminary @el1smells @rishofkf @mooonyxoxo @happymaeday @yourfiendlyneighbourspiderman @whyshouldihaveanam3 @amazing-bobinsky @barnesandmetal @just-here-for-ff @sammyreid @remussbitch

[finelinevogue]

notes on love

summary - harry attends the football and you attend the baftas

pairing - fiance!harry x famous!reader

word count - ~1.5k

*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*

It was the first time Harry had made a public appearance in months.

Sans a hat on his head.

After braving a shave to solidify a new chapter in his life, Harry had decided that enough was enough and he just wanted to be seen again. Gain some new publicity.

“I can’t do this.” Harry’s voice rang through your phone.

Your phone was currently propped up on the vanity in front of you, whilst your stylist gracefully worked around you to get your hair and makeup done.

“H, baby. You’re going to a football match where over half the population there will be white bald men. You’ll blend right in.”

You took a sip of your apple juice in its carton as you suppressed a laugh. Harry rolled his eyes at you, taking the joke like the good sport he is.

“I actually have more hair than them. I’m not bald anymore.”

“See! Embrace the new hair, H. You look really good.”

Harry smiled at you then, his eyes which had previously been darting between watching you and looking out the moving car window were now permanently on you.

“Not as beautiful as you, though, love.”

“Don’t even have my makeup on yet.”

“Never needed it.”

You blew him a camera kiss for those words alone.

“Where are you now?” You reached for a slice of pineapple from the bowl of fruit you’d ordered from room service.

“About five minutes away I think. Are you still in the hotel?”

“Yeah. Don’t need to be ready until 5.”

You were getting ready for the BAFTAS, which Harry had hoped to be there with you for but you’d decided to take your nan as your date instead since she wanted to spend as much time with you as possible.

Harry was more than happy to let Nana, as he liked to call her, be your date to the BAFTAS. Plus, it meant that he could go see the football.

“You’re going to look so pretty.”

Harry had helped your pick out your dress, which was a sophisticated black to contrast the red carpet you’d be walking down. The dress itself was beautifully cut and shaped you in all the right places, making you look elegant and regal.

“I’m nervous.” You picked up your phone so the conversation felt a little more intimate, even though it was still over face-time.

“Why, love?”

“Don’t normally do stuff like this without you.” You pouted.

Harry wished he could kiss that pout away, “And yet the times that you do, you always end up winning! It’s like they never want you to win when i’m there.”

It was a running joke that Harry was your ‘bad luck charm’.

You didn’t believe that though. It’s just that other actors performed better and won, over you, because of it. If anything, you always won because you got to go home and drink hot tea and eat popcorn with your Harry.

“I’ll miss you.” Your face was so close to the camera that Harry could probably see up your nose.

“I miss you. Send me photos when you’re getting ready. I wanna see you before anyone else.”

“Okay.” You smiled. It was routine at this point to always show each other’s public outfits before anyone else.

“Have you got your ring?”

You held up your left hand and wiggled your ring finger in front of the camera. You blushed thinking about the moment that you got given the piece of delicate jewellery, with Harry on one knee.

“Always.”

“You going to wear it on the carpet?”

“Of course. Not going to draw attention to it though. I’ll let people discover it for themselves.”

Harry laughed at the thought. You two were practically the biggest, most A-List, celebrity couple around at the moment and so when people watch sight of you with the ring there’s no doubt it’s all people will talk about for weeks.

Someone told Harry they’d arrived at the venue, then.

“I have to go, honey, but text me updates please. Wanna see you get ready through photos, okay?”

“Okay.” You promised. “Text me to let me know you’re safely home later, please.”

Even though he was going back to his Manchester home, you still liked to know that he was safe and sound. Especially since you were in London and weren’t going to get to be with him tonight.

“Will do. I love you.” Harry kissed his fingers and then dotted them over the camera.

You returned the gesture, “I love you. Bye, bye, bye!”

•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•

You were just finishing getting ready and scrolling through Twitter.

Harry was trending worldwide for showcasing his new hair. His growing hair. No one had seen him like this since the end of Tour last year.

You pouted because you missed him a lot.

People were absolutely loving it. As always, a lot of people were losing their shit over Harry content. You were too, because you missed him.

“Oh, he looks so good!” Your stylist, Jamie, gasped behind you.

Jamie was currently fixing your hair and you had to say they had done an impressive job.

“I know.” You smiled to yourself.

“He looks like a sexy CEO.”

You laughed out loud at that, “When he puts on his glasses he does.” You agreed.

“Harry wears glasses?” Jamie gasped.

“Yeah, hang on..”

You started to go through your camera roll. It was only a few days ago that he had gotten new glasses, because he’d managed to lose his old ones. Typical.

You stopped on a photo of Harry sat in bed with the duvet up on his chest, a book in his lap and his glasses on. He didn’t realise you had taken the photo of him, but it was now one of your favourites.

“Oh damn…” Jamie gasped. “If your marriage ever goes south, tell him I’ll be available.”

You laughed again, shaking your head in dismissal but also approval.

You went back to Twitter to see if any of the Harrie accounts you follow have tweeted anything. You make yourself laugh as you look through their feral comments.

And just because you like to cause a riot on the internet you liked an insane tweet.

harriesmiles: the way that this photo makes me want to cling onto harry like a koala bear and never let go

It wasn’t long before you were trending with Harry.

Then the face-time call comes through from him.

“Am I done?” You asked Jamie quickly.

He nods, knowing you routine with Harry, and allows you to slip into the bathroom next to the bedroom.

You answered the call shortly after locking the bathroom door.

“Hellooo.” You said in a weird voice, feeling hyper from the Twitter craze.

“Hi, babe.” Harry was obviously outside and trying to watch where he was going, more than looking at you.

“Has the match finished?”

“Yeah.” And you honestly didn’t care enough about football to ask how it went. “Are you ready?”

Harry’s eyes flicked down to his screen momentarily, smirking when he catches sight of your glammed out makeup.

One thing Harry loved more than anything was you in a red-lip, so of course you had to make sure you had one for him - despite the fact he couldn’t kiss it off you tonight.

“What?” You giggled, watching him trying to suppress his smirk in public.

“You’re so annoying. I’m trying to act all cool and mysterious here and you’re making me smile like an idiot.”

You dipped your head and smiled, accentuating the blush that was already powdered onto your cheeks.

“H, honey, you’re walking through the streets of Manchester. No one cares about how you act. They’re probably all drunk anyways.”

“True, true.”

“Did you have a pint?” You propped your phone on the counter.

“Uh, yeah.” He said whilst trying to cross a road.

“Love, do you want to call me back when you’re at less risk of being hit by a car?” You sarcastically asked.

“No!” He yelped. “No. Needs to be now.”

You gave him a confused look but carried on regardless.

You shuffled back in the bathroom, giving him a full angle.

You watched in anticipation as Harry looked at you through his tiny screen, wishing it were ten times bigger.

“Wow.” Was all he said and you giggled like a girl having a high-school crush. “I love you so much.”

“So you like?” You swished your dress from side to side.

“Mhm. Wishing I wasn’t so far from you now.”

“Tomorrow. I’ll have all the kisses for you then.”

“Tomorrow it is, then.” Harry smirked to himself, kissing the camera.

Little did you know that tomorrow was coming a lot sooner. In fact, Harry had been running for the earliest train out of Manchester and down to London for the duration of the phone call. Because Harry was always going to show up for you.

[shu-porang-porang]

Kiss It Better

No one knows what a needy kitty he is but you.

Pairs: Lee Minho (Lee Know) / reader (gender not specified)

Theme: just fluff coz I'm such a sucker for fluffy Minnie

Warnings: not proofread

Word count: 0.7 k

You’re in your shared apartment, reading a book on the couch, with Soonie curling up in your lap, purring as you pet him. Except for the occasional mewing of the cats, it’s so quite you can hear your heart beat in your ears. You’re growing restless, can't stand waiting for him anymore, you even stayed a bit longer at work so you’d have to spend less time alone. You look at the clock on the wall, he’s late. As you reach for your phone to call him, the apartment door clicks open and the sound startles Soonie off your lap.

He enters and you hear him dropping his bag on the floor. He shuffles out of his sneakers into slippers and finally appears in your sight.

“Hey jagya” he offers you a tired smile and walks over to you.

“Hi love” you reply as he bends to give you a quick kiss before heading to change his clothes.

He comes back and plops down on the couch next to you. You put your book down and open your arms, inviting him into your hug. He circles his arms around you and buries his face in your chest.

“Tough day?” you ask as you play with his hair and draw circles on the small of his back with your other hand.

“mhmm” he hums hugging you tighter.

“It’s okay baby. Your tough day is over. Now you’re with me.” you keep massaging his scalp and he’s practically purring now.

“You did great today, you always do, and I’m so proud of you.” you finish your sentence with a kiss on top of his head and he looks up at you. His gorgeous sparkly eyes looking at you like a lost puppy melt you into a puddle. The little pout on his perfect lips makes it all the more impossible to resist him. So, you cup his face and kiss the pout away.

“I missed you so bad” he sighs against your lips. His lips get back on yours as if they’re finally where they belong. The kiss is slow and sweet, no hurried or sloppy movements, you both take your time pouring love into it. The moment is so pure and wholesome that overwhelms you.

“I love you so much” you break the kiss to remind him of that.

“I love you more”. It’s probably true.

Of course you fell first, he was a world-renowned idol after all, but everyone who knew him could tell that he fell harder, way harder than you’d ever thought possible. Soon enough you became his safe haven, the main source of joy in his life, the one thing he really cared about. That’s why on days like this, the only thing that could help him get through was knowing that you’d be there for him. He often questions himself how was he ever able to live this stressful life before you? But it doesn’t matter anymore, he doesn’t need to worry about his life without you, the only thing that matters is that he has you now.

Your heart is flooded with love. You lean in to gently kiss his forehead. He closes his eyes with a little satisfied smile on his lips, entirely letting himself go in your arms, basking in the warm glow radiated from your love. You plant the softest kisses on his eyes and then the ridge of his nose, it scrunches up cutely.

“Look at you, my adorable big kitty. How did I get so lucky to have you?” you chuckle lightly. His smile grows wider but he keeps his eyes closed, he wants more.

You generously offer him more kisses, on his temple, on his cheek, around the shell of his ear. You make sure to pepper kisses on every inch of his face. How could you not when he’s being so soft and needy for you?

“Are you feeling better baby?” you ask him, caressing his cheek with your thumb. He finally opens his eyes.

“I do, so much better. Thank you”

“Anything for you, love” you lean in for another kiss before he lays his head on your lap and drift off to dreamland with your fingers in his hair, soothing him even more.

[joelsflower]

you’re so vain | eddie alden x f!reader

you and eddie are roommates and work at the same newscast… but the news aren’t the only things you’re reporting together.

or

some moments sfw and nsfw between you and your ‘friend’ eddie

warnings: sexual and romantic tension, eddie is a munch, they love each other but won’t admit, funny silly goofy moods, pussy eating in public/work place (the door was locked no one saw it), protected piv… while it’s raining outside… and you make love while still not admiting your feelings… the fwb drill we all know and love

a/n: hmmm did someone ask for… fwb!eddie? ☝🏼cause i did!!!

wc: probably around 2.3k i wrote it here sorrys !

the pictures are from this post and this post by @divinesols (both highly recommended as moodboards for this btw!) and i couldn’t find the creator of the gif :/ if anyone knows pls let me know so i can tag!

🗞️🗞️🗞️

“And… cut!”

“We had a bigger audience tonight. Looks like you’ve finally managed to draw the public’s attention.” You handed Eddie a smirk and a cup of coffee while he took off his earphones.

“I always draw attention, baby” he took it and winked at you, taking a sip but immediately making a face of disgust indicating the sugar that was not there.

You knew exactly how he wanted it, but you loved pissing him off.

“And you always brings me the coffee the way you know I don’t want it,” he said as he paced to the studio’s kitchen, followed by your fast steps behind him.

“Ops! And I don’t always bring you coffee, I jus-“

“You just happened to be passing by the coffee shop. Mhmm. I know,” he mocked your tone and expressions, “and you also just happen to be thinking of me all of the time, hm?” He pinched your nose.

You gave him an annoyed look, “well, the world doesn’t revolve around you, Mr. Alden!” You said jokingly, pronouncing the “Mr. Alden” with very much cursive letters.

“Don’t call me that… At least not here.” You were always impressed by the way Eddie could manipulate the look in his eyes to translate exactly what he was thinking about. And, 99,9% he was only thinking about one thing.

Sex.

“Oh I’m not calling you that anywhere, believe me”

“Hmm, cause you rather scream my name, huh?” He raised his brows at you in a funny way, using his arms to cage your body between his and the kitchen counter while swaying a little, making you laugh in that way he loved; when your eyes squeezed together and your head hanged back with a big grin on your lips.

He just loved seeing you happy, specially if he was the reason. When was he going to admit it to you? Probably never.

“Eddie, Jesus! Not here!” Now both of you were laughing unglued his hands from your sides and pushed him away, giving him light taps on the chest.

“Alden, newsroom wants to see you.” Someone from the staff peaked from the door, causing your bodies to distance from each other at the speed of a Formula 1 car, him pretending to still put sugar on the coffee and you weirdly looking for something in the sink.

“I’ll be there in a minute, thank you,” he nodded his head, “wait for me tonight,” he smirked and taped your bum lightly, making you jump.

“Oh yeah bet on it,” you gave him a teasing tone.

“I’ll be watching you,” Eddie motioned his point and middle fingers from his eyes to yours, already by the door.

“That’s cause I always draw attention!”

🗞️🗞️🗞️

“Oh… fuck-“, you tried your best to whisper half of the depravations that were slipping from your lips and to swallow the other half that were stuck in your throat.

But it was very hard when Eddie had you sitting by the end of his desk, skirt up and legs spread wide upon his shoulders so his head could sit perfectly between them.

“So sweet, princess,” his praises were muffled against your throbbing clit, both of his hands hardly squeezing the sides of your thighs. He spent the whole morning dreaming about the taste of your pussy, and by lunch he couldn’t wait anymore.

“W-we have five minutes, Ed,” your worried little mind kept you looking every 5 seconds towards the foggy glasses on his door, but this time got interrupted by your eyes screwing shut and your mouth hanging open in a silenced cry when Eddie quit the sucking in your bud to fuck your hole with his tongue.

“I- we-,” every time you tried to say something and your words died in muffled little moans and cries he sucked and fucked harder. Eating you out was for sure one of Eddie’s favorite things and making you come when you couldn’t scream or cry freely was like a reward for his tiring day.

Having the opportunity to give you pleasure and piss you off at the same time? He was in.

“C’mon baby, cum on my tongue, hm? Wanna taste my girl,” he used two of his fingers to spread your wetness all over your center before nuzzling his head back again, nose stimulating your clit while his tongue entered you hungrily, in and out, in and out, the vibrations of his moans exploding fireworks in your veins.

The man was devouring you.

You came in a quiet moan, fingers gripping Eddie’s roots while his nails dig in your upper thighs and his face drowned in your cunt. He sucked and lapped you clean, until you were too sensitive to bear anything else, “fuck, thank you, baby. Here,” he gave you a paper tower from the adjoining bathroom he had in his office and helped you put your panties and skirt back. If you didn’t already knew all too well the smirk he had on his face you’d think by that he was something that he actually wasn’t.

A gentleman.

But deep, down, he was. For you, at least.

“Can you stand?”

“You have done better performances”

“Oh of course. ‘oh, fuck! Eddie! so good! we have 5 minutes!’” he joked while pulling you in for a see you later hug and a kiss on the cheek before you could run away from him, “thanks, bub. Best lunch ever”

“You’re disgusting,” you laughed, pushing his chest and stepping towards the door.

“If I was I wouldn’t have your pussy all over my face now, would I?”

“Disgusting,” you mouthed and closed the door, not giving him time to fry your braincells that had just started working again.

🗞️🗞️🗞️

“Shhh. Almost there, baby. You can take it, just a little more”

“So good,” you whispered, the words slipping from your lips while the raindrops slipped down your window.

Your plan definitely wasn’t to end up under Eddie tonight, but the thunderstorms got louder than you thought they would. And as it always happens between the two of you, one thing led to the other, and…

“Fuck- found your spot, pretty girl? So good t’me,” Eddie was fucking you tonight. You didn’t know if it was because of the rain painting your frames with the moonlight, the fact that it’s been a little while since you’ve slept together or if he found it cute every time you shivered and gripped his biceps cause a thunder was a bit too loud.

His cock was nestled deep inside your walls, messaging your favorite spots with each thrust. He was going slow, fierce, calculated, and he had all the patience in the world.

You could feel him everywhere.

From his fingers in your scalp to his hot tongue slow dancing with yours to every vein rubbing your walls deliciously. Sometimes his dick split out because of how wet you were together and he didn’t even bother, he kept fucking your clit with his tip, up and down, up and down, making you see stars until he felt you couldn’t take it anymore and tucked himself back in. His words? Praises and praises and praises hanging from his lips like sugar. You’ve never felt so full and so… Adored.

“Yeah, c’mon princess, can feel your little pussy squeezin’ me. Think you can come now, baby?” Eddie slowed even more his pace to watch your face contort in pleasure while tears fell down your eyes, every pulse of your warm cunt around his cock sending him closer and closer to the edge. You came within seconds, nodding your head “yes” while your little pants and moans being muffled by his own, your mouths tangled while he came with you, filling the condom you help him put earlier on.

Both of you had - intentionally - little to no sex like that; but it happened. And when it happened, it was usually because you either lost yourselves or one needed so much. You tried not to be too much in your head about it, but it was difficult when Eddie kissed your forehead and played with your head, still inside you.

He didn’t want to go, either.

“You don’t look so afraid of the noises now,” he tried to break the silence between you, knowing very well it wasn’t the awkward or comfortable types, but the emotional kind.

“The rain stopped,” you let out, with tears still leaking from your eyes.

“And are you sad about it?” he dried them from your cheek.

You smiled, “fuck you.”

“You just did,” he stared at you for a bit, caressing your cheeks as your eyes stopped watering and the last raindrops flowed down the window.

“Stay? It might rain again…”

You lifted your pinky between your bodies, “just this time,” and he embraced your smaller finger with his, “just this time.”

But both of you knew it wasn’t just this time.

It would rain again.

🗞️🗞️🗞️

When your keys turned on the locket the last thing you expected was to meet Eddie eating ice cream directly from the pot at home 20:17pm on a friday.

Sitting on the counter.

Shirtless.

“…What are you doing here?”

“Uh.. I live here? I should be the one asking you that,” he motioned the spoon in your direction.

“Eddie, it’s 20pm on a friday,”

“Actually, it’s 20:17pm on a friday”

Yeah you weren’t doing this tonight.

“Fine, whatever.”

“Hey, what’s that?” His tone was softer, he always knew when you had a bad day.

And good ones too. And any kind of day you have had and exactly how he should react to it.

“Just… Pierce screamed at me again,” his eyes followed you as you took the wine glass out of the fridge.

“So… She did her job cause you weren’t doing yours…”

“Try again,” you poured a glass.

“She’s just a bitch who can’t let you do your work without complaining about whatever shit she caused”

“Bingo!” You swallowed the whole wine in one go, watching through the glass as Eddie’s hand reached for it and took it from you, “no no no, this will not help you.”

“And what will? Being dumped by a freshman college girl and Ice cream?”

He gave you a disappointed look but reached for your hands anyway, “come here,” he pulled you to his body, arms embracing you while you positioned yourself in between his legs, head resting on his chest and arms around his waist.

“You know what you really need?” His words were muffled on the top of your head.

“Hm?”

“To shut the fuck up”

“You shut the fuck up” now your words were muffled on his chest.

“I know you don’t mean it. You love me.”

“Sure”

And actually you sure as hell did. And he loved you too. When were you going to admit it to each other?

Probably never.

🗞️🗞️🗞️

[luveline]

hello my love!! could you maybe show us what bedtime is like in the kbd universe? thank you, you’re incredible <3

kbd —dad!steve and mom!reader get their small family ready for bed. 3k

“She looks so pretty,” Avery whispers. 

Steve struggles to pull the hem of his sock over his ankle, crossing his legs to match her as she snaps an apple slice in half with her fingers, the juice wetting her pyjama top, her torso swaying as his knee bumps into hers. “Who?” Steve asks, blinking. 

“Wren,” Avery says, leaning back to let Steve see the baby where she’s napping in her bouncer. Avery shoves a chunk of apple in her mouth. “She’s pw-ery.” 

“Try not to talk with your mouth full, you might choke.” 

Avery nods, closing her mouth to chew up the rest of her food with chipmunk cheeks. 

Steve draws a little heart into her knee. She has a bruise from falling up the stairs a few days ago like a purple ink blot just under her kneecap, but she hasn’t complained. She didn’t cry when she fell, she just got back up and asked for a Capri-Sun. Steve’s surprised she’s so hardy, but she’s getting older. He’d sort of been hoping she’d want him to kiss it better.

“She’s pretty like her big sister,” he says. 

“I’m glad she’s stopped crying all the time.” 

“Me too.” He takes one of the smaller slices from her plate to eat, wiping juice from her cheek as he does. 

She grins. “Thank you.” 

“You’re welcome. You all done?” 

“Yep.” 

“Not hungry anymore?” 

“Nope.” She grabs her plate before he can. “I’ll put it in the sink.” 

“Thanks, beautiful.” 

She jumps up with her empty plate and does a spin, saying, “Who, me?” 

Steve laughs like an idiot, still chuckling to himself as the sound of her plate hitting the kitchen sink reaches his ears. Wren, finally out of her sleep regression (for now), doesn’t wake. All good signs of a good night. 

Steve lets his head fall back onto little legs. “What about you?” he asks Dove, the second youngest daughter, where she sits behind him on the couch. 

She hums under her breath, her hands quick to weave into his hair, petting it away from his face. He waits for an answer he doesn’t get, closing his eyes and turning his face into her knee. Her giggles are treacle sweet. “Don’t sleep,” she protests. 

“I’m tired.” 

“It’s not bed time.” 

She’s not gonna like what Steve’s about to tell her, if that’s the case. She had a screaming tantrum last night about bed time where she threw herself on the floor and whacked her hands until her palms turned bright red. He’s not wanting a repeat. 

“It is bed time,” he says gently, though it’s not for another half an hour, “but, I was thinking, because you’ve been so good today you’d stay up extra. Maybe even have hot cocoa before bed.” Steve turns to meet her eyes. “How’s that sound?” 

“Really?” she asks, her eyes blowing wide with excitement. Steve is starting to wonder if she’s not as mini-me as he used to think, growing into sweeter features as she leaves the baby-toddler stage and starts to look like a kid. He loves it. 

“That sound fun or what?” 

She dives at him. He has enough sense to have twisted and catches her before she can break any of his teeth. “You are the best daddy ever!” she declares seriously, almost tipping over his shoulder. 

He lets her dangle for a second, then yanks her back topside. “You’re my best girl, that’s why. Let’s go make the drinks. Actually, we better go see who else wants some.” 

You and Bethie are attempting some last minute crafts at the dining table, and you’re very interested in hot chocolate but Beth doesn’t like it and so, doesn’t want any. She does seem interested in a glass of milk with a couple of chocolate chip cookies, so it’s nearly the same thing. “Careful,” he says, putting the half a pint of milk down in front of her birdhouse cautiously, “you don’t wanna spill that, baby.” 

“Who says she’s gonna spill it?” you ask. 

“Don’t start with me,” Steve warns. 

You smile to yourself. You’ve a spatula for PVA glue in your hand, skins of glue dried to your fingertips flecked with splinters of wood. Lollipop crafts felt like a good idea when he’d suggested it, but then he didn’t actually want to do it, and you’d been kind enough to step in. I’m sick of mess, he’d confided. 

Well, you’d said, somewhere between a quick kiss pressed to his shoulder and your hand rubbing it away, you probably shouldn’t have asked me to have so many kids. 

I love mess, he’d corrected immediately. Love to make more of it someday. 

“We’re nearly done in time for bed,” you assure him now. 

“I told Dove she could have an extra half an hour.” He winks at you clumsily. 

“Oh, really? Well, maybe Beth and Avery should get some extra time too.” 

Beth dunks her cookie into the top of her cup. “No thanks. I’m tired. Can I sleep with Avery again?” she asks, milk dribbling down the sides of the glass to darken the coaster underneath. 

“You’ll have to ask her yourself,” Steve says. “Wait, where is she? I thought she was in here.” Something grabs him by the legs, a sudden clutching that activates a heat in his eyes and spine he can’t explain. He flinches sideways into a cabinet and almost steps on a rather small limb. “What the fuck.” 

“Boo!” Avery says, laughing brightly as Steve rights himself on the counter. 

“Avery! Did I step on you? I’m sorry,” he says, immediately bending down. “What were you thinking? I could’ve really hurt you!” 

“Daaad, I was just pulling a prank,” she says. 

He checks over the arm he was so sure he’d stepped on. “You okay?” 

“She’s fine,” you say. “Yeah?” 

“I’m fine!” She hugs his legs again. “You said a super bad word.” 

He was hoping everybody missed that. “Dove–”

“Dad,” Dove interrupts, kicking her little feet exactly where he left her sitting on the dinner table by your left, “bad words make me cry.” She says it all clunky and clumsy, having heard it enough times. Her Aunt Robin has a potty-mouthed girlfriend, and Steve can’t do damage control quick enough sometimes.

“No, it’s when you say bad words daddy cries,” Avery says. 

“I didn’t say one!” 

“I know! I just mean it’s not when dad says it.” 

“What?” Dove asks. “He did says it.”

You’re grinning. You love when Dove confuses herself, all kids go through it, where half the time they don’t know what they’re saying until you help them along, but you love Dove’s new phase especially because she’s always been so serious. “What Avery is telling you, baby, is that daddy doesn’t get upset when he says bad words because he’s a grown up.” 

“So when we’re older we can cuss too?” Bethie asks. 

Steve’s jaw drops. “No, Beth! No, none of you need to say bad words, and I don’t either, and I’m really sorry. Can we forget about it?” 

Steve makes hot chocolate and helps you clean the sorry mess you’ve made on the table, and, after some light teasing, everybody forgets he’d reacted so violently to Avery’s surprise. Well, almost. Dove is the first to succumb to a case of the sleepies despite being otherwise reluctant to give in, sitting on his thigh, marshmallows still whole in her drink. She’d barely managed four sips. 

Steve cuddles her to his chest, covering her ear where she nuzzles against him from the sounds of your and Avery’s giggling. “He went pale,” you’re saying. 

Beth offers Steve half of one of her cookies. “You didn’t,” she says. 

If he didn’t have his arms full of Dove he’d scoop her up. “Thank you, Beth. I love you.” 

“I love you too.” 

“Alright,” you say, twining your fingers and sliding them behind your head, your neck and back clicking audibly in the quiet of the Harrington house winding down, “I think it’s bedtime. Are you done with your drink?” 

You rinse the cups. Steve ferries Dove upstairs, has her down and tucked in in record time, soon enough to catch you as you and the rest of the girls make your way upstairs. Beth and Avery are beautifully silent, weary of their sensitive baby sister where she’s cradled to your chest. 

You attempt to put her down in her crib in your room, but Steve gets the feeling you aren’t successful when a crackly cry breaks out. 

“Oh, no,” Avery says. 

“It’s fine. Let’s go brush our teeth, okay? Mommy has it.” 

They brush their teeth. Steve wipes their faces down with a damp hand towel and has a moment of gratitude just touching their faces. They both look so loved, the way their eyes crinkle, the way they lift their chins, all too happy for Steve to do it. He loves these moments of being a dad most, he might say, second only to getting to talk to them, especially now they’re both holding conversation. They talk to each other none stop; Beth talks to Avery ten times as much as she does anyone else. 

“Are you having a sleepover again?” Steve asks. 

Beth turns to Avery pleasingly. “Can I? Please, please, please.” 

“Yes!” Avery says, big sister extraordinaire. She wraps her arms around Beth’s shoulders, taller, more aware of herself as she presses her cheek to Beth’s and mumbles, “Of course you can. I love you. I want us to have sleepovers every night.” 

You emerge from the bedroom victorious, heading into the bathroom as he and the girls come out. “I’m just gonna brush my teeth,” you say. 

“Gonna get Beth changed.” 

“Okay, I put her nightie on the foot of her bed earlier.” 

It’s routine but not without enjoyment. He makes sure they’re both comfortable in the night's sleepwear and takes care of their hair, before giving Avery’s room a quick half-clean and shaking out the sheets on her bed. Avery has the second biggest bedroom, though Bethie’s is nothing to turn your nose up at, and it gets Steve thinking as they climb up into Avery’s single bed. 

“I think it’s good for you guys to keep your separate rooms for now,” Steve says tentatively, “but what do you think about sharing?” 

The plan was that Dove and Wren would share, but if Avery and Beth are getting along so well, it might not hurt to ask. 

Beth gasps. “Our bedrooms?” 

“Like, you and Avery could both sleep in here. You have a bunk bed, or we could get you a big one to share, and you could share teddies.” 

“I don’t want to share my teddies,” Avery says. 

“Well, you don’t have to. I’m not gonna make you.” Steve squints at them both. “Bad idea?” 

“I want to share,” Beth says immediately. 

Avery has a better understanding of what that will mean. “Maybe.” 

“You don’t have to,” Steve says. “Your rooms are yours, okay? Maybe we can just get you a bigger bed anyways, Ave. You’re so tall now, in a couple of years you’ll be ten feet tall and we’ll have to bend you in half to get you to school.” 

This is the funniest thing a man could say, apparently —both Beth and Avery burst into girly giggles that ring down the landing. Beth sounds like she might be sick. She laughs so much, falling into Avery’s side as her big sister says, “Dad, that’s silly!” 

“I can show you, if you want. We’ll practise making you into an Avery flavour pretzel, c’mere.” 

She squeals and climbs over Beth’s legs to huddle in the corner of her bed. Steve doesn’t so much as touch her legs and she’s laughing again, panicked, hyper laughter like she can’t decide if she wants to be folded or not. He presses his finger over his smile. “Shh, shh, we can’t wake the babies.” 

“Sorry,” she laughs. 

“My fault. Don’t be sorry.” He gives her leg a squeeze. “How about we start to tuck you in, girls? Do we have everything we need?” 

Beth wants a few things from her own bed, but besides that, they’re ready. Well, they’re supposed to be ready, but Steve wound them up and it’s his own fault, he can’t even complain when they beg him to watch a movie. What’s the harm? he decides, turning on Avery’s TV and pushing their favourite tape into the VHS player. 

“The effect FernGully has on the new generation is amazing,” you say, wiping your eyes. You’ve changed into pyjama pants Steve’s sure you’ve had since you met him and a tank top with straps falling down your shoulders. He wants to pull them back over the curve of your shoulder, but he’s trying to be less smothering.

He fluffs the pillows behind the girls’ backs. “It’s the boy. What’s his name? Dennis? Daniel?” 

“Neither.” You put a fallen teddy back on the bed and turn on Avery’s star-shaped night light before flicking off the big light above. The TV glows green on their legs. 

“Gonna lie down?” Steve says, gentler now, easing them in. 

Avery flops back. Beth curls in on her side, and it reminds Steve of you and him. He can sleep any which way. You’re slightly more particular, but you’re happier curled on to him. He really loves how close they are as sisters, and he has to give Avery some credit, because while Beth is exceedingly easy to love, she’s a clinger, she worships her big sister, which must get heavy from time to time. 

Avery pulls the blankets up over them before Steve can do it himself. He sighs, tucking them both in. Blankets pushed gently under their sides, hair brushed back from their little faces, he says, “Love you, Ave. Love you, Beth,” kissing their foreheads in swift succession. “I’ll see you in the morning, okay?” 

“Love you, daddy,” they say at the same time. 

You touch his arm gently before leaning in for your own kisses. You’re slower than he’d been, turning their faces in your hand one after the other to place identical kisses on their cheeks. “Love you, sweetheart,” you say to Avery, and, “Love you, baby,” you say to Beth. Steve holds your back as you do. “Have good dreams, okay? And don’t mess with the TV. One movie tonight is enough, you’ll wake up with sore eyes.” 

He steals another kiss from both of them and then you’re closing the door behind you, the house much darker and quieter than it had been only ten minutes previous. 

“You want a glass of water?” Steve says. 

You catch his hand. “I got you one.” 

Neither you nor Steve bother with anything but bed. He draws back the blankets and you climb in, only stopping momentarily to make sure that Wren’s alright in her crib. You curl in the middle of the bed and wait for Steve to force his way beneath you, which he does, your face resting on his shoulder, your leg stretched across his. Your hip is a lump in the blankets. He lets his hand fall atop it, whistling a tired breath through his teeth. 

“Mm,” you agree, stretching out, curling in tighter. 

“I know,” he says. Can’t forget his best girl, can’t not think about how much he loves you when it’s you and him alone. Mostly. “You alright?” 

“Fine. Tireder than I thought.” Your eyes close, lashes brushing his chest. “H?” 

“What?”

“You okay?”

“Fine, honey. Was just asking you,” he mumbles. His pillow feels like a cloud beneath his head, the mattress even better, and the sheets are a brushed cotton that’s amazingly soft on his skin. 

He turns his nose down onto you for a not so secret sniff. 

“Feels too good to be true.” 

“My turn tonight,” he says. 

“No, baby, it’s my turn.” 

“That’s fine.” He’s not as tired as you, or at least not half as achy. If Wren wakes up crying (not definitely going to happen) or Dove has a late night startle (even less likely, though not impossible), he’ll take the burden tonight. “I wanted babies and I got ‘em.”

“I want them too,” you say. 

“Of course you do,” he says, rubbing your forehead with the tip of his nose affectionately. “That’s not what I meant.” 

“Less when they wake me up,” you joke. 

Steve feels up your side to your shoulder for a sleepy cuddle. You don’t realise how soft you can be, how warm you are pressed against him like this, how grateful he is to hold you. Maybe you can read his mind, or maybe as just pure evidence of such a feat, you cup his upper arm in your hand and begin to draw shapes over his skin, breaking the pattern with fleeting scratches. “Are you sure?” 

“Yeah, honey. I’m sure. You go to sleep now, okay? It’s Saturday tomorrow,” he whispers tenderly. “You don’t have anywhere to be.” 

“‘Cept here,” you whisper back. 

“Love you.” A brush of his lips to your eyebrow. “Goodnight, sweetheart.” 

“I love you.”

“I love you,” he says. He swears he’s gonna stay up for a bit and count your eyelashes or something, maybe pen you a love poem, write a note about your lips and how they pout when you’re nearly sleeping, but he forgets to when you press your face into the curve of his neck and kiss it clumsily. You fall asleep at the same time, the girls laughing in whispers just a few feet away behind the wall.  

[twola]

ahehehm.

i get scared when making requests but like .. soft makeup sex w arthur 🧎‍♀️

“i’m sorry baby. i know, i didn’t mean it.” UGHH this man makes me crazy

If there is one talent that Arthur Morgan has - its accuracy. With a gun, a throwing knife, any kind of weapon really.

And his words - He knows what to say to make it hurt, to stab at your chest as if he was physically driving the knife into your heart.

Your eyes cloud over with tears as you quickly turn away from him and walk in the opposite direction, nearly dashing into the woodline away from your shared tent.

Arthur remains where he stood, scowling, fists still clenched. Fine - if that’s the way you’re going to be, go run off for all he cares. He turns on his heel and goes back into the tent, yanking the canvas shut before angrily pulling the hat from his head and throwing it to the ground. He runs his hands through his hair, trying to assuage his aggravation.

Grumbling, he kicks his boots off and throws himself down in the cot, pulling his hat over his head in an exaggerated manner to try and get some rest.

He awakens much later, in the small, quiet hours of the night, and the small space in his cot next to him is still empty. His stomach drops.

Shit, were you still out there? He figured you would have crawled back into bed after calming down. He shoots up, tossing the blanket to the end of the cot and swinging his legs over the side, groping for his boots in the darkness. He shoves them back on before venturing outside, teeth clenching against the cold.

It doesn't take him long to find you, curled up against a tree a little ways away from camp. Your head is in your knees as you wrap your arms around them.

“Sweetheart.”

You raise your gaze upward, and Arthur frowns as he can at least see the glistening of tears in your eyes.

“Why would you say that to me?”

Guilt washes over him like the tide coming in. The heat of the argument earlier has subsided and he drowns in the shame of hurting you.

“Darl-” he sighs, trailing off before stripping his jacket off, stepping closer to you and draping it over your shoulders as you shiver. He stoops down next to you to sit, pressing his side against yours, and after a moment, looping his arm around you to draw you closer.

You shiver in the chill of the night, but after a moment, you lean into him, resting your head against his collarbone.

His hand rubs up and down your back gently, “ ‘m sorry - I didn’t mean it.”

Your hand slowly emerges from under his jacket and spreads out over his chest, above his heart.

“You say things like that and it makes me think you don’t want to be with me anymore.”

“Shit- I ain’t…” Arthur sighs, pulling you even closer against him, “You know I’m just a miserable ol’ bastard. I shoot my mouth off…”

You remain silent, but your fingers tighten at his shirt.

God, he’s such a fool.

“C’mon, let’s get back inside. You’ll catch your death out here.”

You let him lead you back from the woodline toward his tent, his hand tight around your waist the entire time back to his tent strung up against his wagon.

He pulls the canvas of the tent shut tightly against the chill of the night. You stand awkwardly within the confines of his tent, rubbing at your arm as you sniffle. He turns to you, reaching toward you as if he were trying to calm a skittish horse.

“I ain’t- I ain’t good at this.” Arthur whispers, his thumbs gently sweeping the tracks of moisture collecting on your cheeks.

“Me either.” You hiccup, leaning into his touch.

“Suppose that makes us both fools.”

You hum in agreement as you press forward to lean into his embrace fully, your arms moving from his chest around his back as his encircle you as well. You feel him place his chin lightly on the top of your head.

“Lemme show you then.” He rasps, pulling away from you slightly, his hands pressing against your back to pull you up to him into a kiss.

His tongue presses into your mouth as his grip around your waist tightens. You moan softly, and he returns the noise, one hand moving to squeeze your rear.

Laces and buttons are gently undone, cotton rustling as he rids you of your dress. He slowly pulls the straps of your chemise off your shoulders, and the fabric flutters to the ground, pooling at your feet as his fingers trace down the curve of your spine. He reaches the waistband of your bloomers and pushes it down over the swell of your ass, leaving you completely nude in the soft lantern light of the tent.

You reach for the buttons of his union suit and thread them through their eyelets as you feel his eyes upon you. It is not until you have unbuttoned him past his navel that you look up, catching his gaze and holding it as you lift your hands to his shoulders, sliding the cotton down his arms.

That too pools at his feet.

It is only a moment before he pulls you flush to him, his skin touching yours, all of you pressed against all of him. He recaptures your lips as he maneuvers the two of you toward his cot. Far more gently than an outlaw like him should be, he lays you down.

Arthur leans over you, one knee on the edge of the cot, and as you gaze down his body, you see the evidence of his need, his cock hard, jutting forth proudly from his pelvis. Leaking from the tip, swollen and glistening for you.

You can feel the moisture gathering between your legs, he’s yet to trail his hand there, but when he does, he finds you wet and wanting. A low rumble emanates from his chest as he parts your folds with a gentle press of his fingers.

You suck in a breath as he does so, your eyes fluttering shut as he rubs at you. Moving downward, he slides a thick finger into your cunt, and you gasp his name in feverish desire as he climbs atop you, pressing your legs apart with his own, settling his hips closer to yours. When Arthur removes his finger, he brushes the wetness off on his leg before his hand smoothes up your body, searching for yours. When he finds it, he interlaces your fingers as he wraps his other hand around himself as he moves toward you.

The blunt, girthy head of his cock presses through the rim of your cunt and you gasp, a high and flighty noise, as he begins to push himself inside you, sheathing the column of him within your warm channel.

When his pelvis blessedly is flush against yours, he lets out a long, sated breath as you squeeze your eyes shut against the feeling of being parted, getting used to the shape of him within you.

Arthur remains still, his free hand rubbing gently at your hip as he waits for you. When your eyes flutter open, he is peering down at you with adoration in his eye. You squeeze the hand you have interlaced before unwinding your fingers from his.

Words remaining unspoken, you reach up to him to wind your arms around his neck, and he immediately gets down on his elbows, surging forward to lock his lips to yours.

And then he moves. A long, slow, gentle stroke in which his pelvis leaves yours for a moment before returning. You moan as he does it again, and he takes a moment to hear that flighty sound before pressing his lips over yours.

Your fingers card through his shorn hair as he slowly, gently pumps into you. You receive him headily, your core getting wetter by the moment.

The emotion of it all spills over - he seems incapable of words as he gives himself to you. The cot squeaks in the night: the gentle slap of skin on skin, the wet sound of bodies coming together fill the tent.

He reaches between you to rub at that bundle of nerves right above where he stretches you, and you clench your teeth against the pleasure as you come.

He is able to stay inside you for a moment more to enjoy the constriction of your body around his, but not much longer as he quickly extricates himself. He only needs to wrap his hand around his length and pump himself twice before his spend splatters upon your heaving belly.

Arthur pants, giving his cock a final squeeze as it drips more of his release upon you. Within a moment, he reaches down to the pile of clothes at the side of the cot, pulling his bandana from the pile and wiping your skin clean.

Your eyes start to close as you feel him slide into the space next to you on the cot, gathering you against him.

He presses his lips to your forehead as you drift off, but before you do, you hear his whispered voice in the night.

“I love you.”

[fictionalsimp09]

Mistletoe Kiss

Jegumas Day 21 - @noblehouseofgay - 344 words

“Put us all out of our misery and just kiss him,” Peter sighs as he sips from his plastic cup.

“No, no and no,” Sirius replies. “Don’t you dare kiss my baby brother. But also, please put us out of our misery. Your pining is pathetic, Prongs.”

“That’s rich coming from you,” he quips.

“Hey! At least me and Moony are together now.”

“Just go talk to him,” Remus adds. “We all know he likes you too.”

“Fine,” James says, downing the rest of his firewhisky and struts towards the younger Black, standing on the opposite end of the Gryffindor common room looking bored out of his mind while his loved-up friends are preoccupied with their partners. “Hey, Reggie.”

“Don’t call me that.”

“Why not? It makes you flustered, and you’re cute when you blush.”

“Call me cute again and you’ll be spending the rest of the term in the hospital wing.”

James chuckles. “You wouldn’t dare hurt me.”

Regulus raises an eyebrow. “And what makes you so sure of that?”

“Because you like me.”

“I can’t stand you.”

“We both know that’s not strictly true.” James decides to be brave, tucking some of Reg’s hair behind his ear, letting his fingers linger a little longer than necessary. “You’re beautiful, you know.”

“Just how much have you had to drink, Potter?”

“Not much.”

“Lightweight,” he mutters.

“No, I’m just drunk on love.”

“Piss off, Potter,” Regulus snaps. “This isn’t funny anymore.”

“It isn’t a joke.” Just then, movement above their heads draws their attention, both of them looking up at the same time. Mistletoe. “I promise you this isn’t a joke.”

James looks into Regulus’ grey eyes, trying to convey just how much he wants him with a single look. And it works. Regulus leans forward, placing a brief kiss to his lips. When James doesn’t pull away, the kiss deepens, and it’s more magical than any spell he could ever cast. In this moment, the world fades away until it’s just them. It’s perfect. Regulus is perfect. They are perfect for each other.

[fandoms-writings]

hii pretty girl, happy celebration! you deserve everyone who follows you <3 i’m here to request a few things for ur party! (i’ll space them out in asks hehe)

for the first one, may i pmease request a small little blurb with bucky and ‘keep your eyes on me’ from the smut category? it can be any bucky of yours, one dominating and possessive 😵‍💫

thanks baby! i almost got carried away with this one 😵‍💫 i might have to revisit these two in the future - i hope you like it darlin <3

Pairing: DBF!Bucky x college!reader

Word Count: 680

Warnings: Smut 18+ ONLY, car sex, unprotected vaginal sex, oral (f receiving), fingering, slight exhibitionism

come celebrate with me! || part 2

He knew you shouldn't be here - that this was wrong. 

He was your fathers best friend. But when he met you at your graduation party two years ago, he was enamored. You'd just finished your degree, getting ready to specialize at another university and after some conversation, he learned it would be the one in his city. 

He'd helped you move, helped you get settled in your apartment - which was only a ten minute drive from his house. He told you that if you ever needed anything, that he'd be there for you. 

He didn't necessarily mean it like this, but he'd gladly spend the rest of his days between your legs if it meant he didn't have to see you cry anymore. 

Sure, you muttered about how you two shouldn’t be doing this, asking what you were going to do if your father found out. Bucky assured you he wouldn't, what he was doing to you - ruining you - would be your little secret, and you let him keep going. 

You didn't pull away, you didn't tell him to stop or to leave. If the words were to leave your lips, he'd be heart broken, but he'd go. 

If you told him to, he’d walk to the ends of the earth. He’d find the edge and jump, if you so asked. 

But you didn’t. 

You let him take you out when he ran into you at the mall, you were clearly upset about something and he wanted to make you feel better. He told you to dress up and you put on the sexiest dress you had, the one that left nothing to the imagination, and let him pick you up to take you to the nicest restaurant he could find. 

Bucky listened to how you'd been sort of dating a guy from one of your classes, but turns out he was just another asshole who stood you up and cheated on you. He'd wiped your tears with his thumbs, his hands cupping your cheeks as gently as he could. 

He gave you so much time to pull away, to stop him. 

But when he leaned in, pressing his lips to yours as gently as he could, you kissed him back. 

Now, here you two were, in the back of his car, your back pressed up against the door with his head between your legs, his tongue in your core. Your hands tugged on his hair and your eyes were shut as you moaned. 

He pulled his tongue from your folds to hover just over your cunt. Reaching up, he gripped your chin and squeezed your jaw, getting you to open your eyes. 

"Keep your eyes on me," he ordered, waiting for a nod to tell him you heard him before he latched on to your clit, drawing quick tight circles over it while slipping two fingers into your warmth and curling them. 

He never let go of your jaw and you followed his order, never once taking your eyes off his - except when he brought you over the edge. Your head flew back, hitting the window as your eyes shut and you screamed. 

He pulled his face away from your clit and slipped his fingers out of you, maneuvering you to lay over the center console into the front seat, your arms holding you up on the seats. Gripping your hips and lining himself up with your center, he slammed you down on to him and reached forward, threading his hand into your hair before pulling your head up. 

"You didn't keep your eyes on me," He muttered, holding terribly still, making you squirm. "So you're gonna sit here and warm my cock until I think you deserve to cum again. How's that sound?" 

"What - what if someone sees?" You asked,  your voice thin and worn out. You had a point, if someone were to walk by and glance in the front window, they'd have a front seat view to you getting fucked. But if anything, that spurred him on further. 

"Then I'll show them who you belong to."

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

the girl next door 29

Warnings: this fic will include elements, some dark, such as age gap, manipulation, chronic illness, noncon/dubcon, coercion, and other untagged triggers. Please take this into account before proceeding. It is up to curate your online consumption safely.

Summary: A new neighbour moves in and upends your already disarrayed life.

Author’s Note: Please feel free to leave some feedback, reblog, and jump into my asks. I’m always happy to discuss with you and riff on idea. As always, you are cherished and adored! Stay safe, be kind, and treat yourself.

This lewk but silverfox

You peel off the suit and wring it out. You leave it in the bathroom to dry, but more so you don't need to look at it. You've never been so humiliated in all your life. 

Worse than your mother's bitter grumbles, or the way your grandmother used to nitpick at every part of you was that look in Steve's eyes. It was like nothing you've ever seen before. Not angry, not judging, but something mysterious that unsettled you. 

Ugh. You sneer at the wall as you pull on the baggiest tee shirt you have. You hate yourself. No, you hate your body. No matter what you do, it's clumsy and somehow you get in the way of yourself. 

You shimmy into a pair of pajama shorts and flop onto your bed. You could read but your head won't let you focus. Drawing isn't an option either, you're still shaking from the exposure. 

Sleep. Well, that won't come. Every time you close your eyes, you just see Steve and the water, and your nakedness. You can't imagine what your mother would've said if she'd saw. 

She hadn't, had she? 

You roll over and hide your head under your arm. You just lay there, desperate to escape somehow. The hours wear on, the day shifting around your unmoving form, the stagnant house dampening your skin with sweat.  

When you finally get the strength to flip onto your back, you realise you've been crying. You sniffle and mop your cheeks. You don't know why you're crying. Humiliation, sure, but don't be such a baby. 

You sit up cradle your head until it's a little less fragile. You get to your feet and shuffle out to use the bathroom. You pointedly ignore the pink checkered fabric. 

When you're done, you go to the kitchen. You look in the fridge. Not much there. You take out an old cup of pudding and fish out a spoon. You sit at the table and stir it but don't eat.  

You remember when you were a kid, your grandma would give you tapioca. Your mother only ever got banana. You hate banana pudding. It tastes so artificial. 

You're not a kid anymore. You're realising that now. It's time to be an adult. You don't have a place here anymore. Your mom has Steve and you have... nothing. 

The front door whines on its ungreased hinges. You wince and look up, shove a spoonful into your mouth. 

Steve appears. He has a tee on but still wears his swim shorts. You look at him dully and swallow, scooping up more of the pudding. 

"You hungry? You could have come over for lunch." 

You shrug and keep eating. Your stomach sickens at the overly sweet treat. You want to spit it out. 

"You're still mad?" He asks. 

You shrug again. 

He sighs. He crosses the room and pulls out the chair across from you, "look, sweetie," he twines his fingers through each other as he rests his arms on the table, "I'm real sorry. I was trying to have some fun. I made a mistake. We all do, right?" 

You stare at the table and nod. 

"Right, so can we move past it? Forget it ever happened?" 

"Forget?" You echo in a croak. "Erm." 

"Wiped clean," he unweaves his fingers and makes a smooth motion over the table top. "How about it? Can you forgive me?" 

You let the spoon go and slide the cup aside. You can't look up. It's more than the embarrassment of what happened. It's the constant shame that follows you around. You're just a hanger-on. He doesn't have to keep pretending because of your mom. She deserves to have a life after all the years she wasted on you. A life without you. 

"I'm sorry. I'm... I'm going to find a job and I'll do my best and..." you ramble as you trace your fingers on the table and tilt your head back and forth, "and you won't have to worry about me." 

"Sweetie?" He reaches over to still your hand, "what are you talking about?" 

"I shouldn't be... I shouldn't be living with you. Or mom. You two... I'm in the way--" 

"In the way? Sweetie," he squeezes your hand, "I promise you that's not true." 

"It has to be." 

"Why? Why does that have to be true?" 

"Because no one wants me," you turn your face down but he won't let go of your hand so you can hide. 

"I know that's not true," he insists.  

"It is. You see it. My mom..." you shudder and hold back a sob, "hates me." 

He's quiet. He clings to you even as you try to pull free. "I don't hate you." 

"You barely know me." 

"Sweetie, I know enough. Just enough to know you're a sweet girl. A good girl. All this time you've been taking care of your mom. Not anyone does that, you know? Most people would just leave her behind," he brings his other hand up to pet your knuckles, "and you're considerate and kind and gentle." 

"Please," you wisp and tug on your hand again, "you don't have to--" 

"I want you," he interjects as he tightens his grip, "sweetie, look at me." 

Your eyes flick up, startled by his hold and his tone. 

"You said no one wants you? I do. I shouldn't. I know it. I... I saw the way you take care of Holly, I saw how hard you try, I saw it all and I--" 

He finally lets you go. You recoil, shocked. Your hand tingles and your heart races. He doesn't mean it like that. He can't. You blink and lean back, making yourself as small as you can. 

"I'm sorry," he drops his head into his hands, "I'm sorry, sweetie. I'm trying not to feel like this. I've been fighting myself but..." he looks up, fingers stretched up his cheeks as his eyes glimmer, "I... don't love your mom. I only married her so... so..." he closes his eyes and trembles, "I shouldn't say it." His lashes flick open and he sits up straight, "so I could take care of you. That's why. But I couldn't... be honest. Because I didn't want to scare you or lose you. Just having you close is enough so I lied." He sniffs and a tear rolls out, "worse, I couldn't even be honest with myself. Not until now. Until it's too late." 

You gape at him. He just watches you. His expression is pained and sheepish.  

"Please, sweetie, say something." 

"You can't mean it," you breathe, "please take it back." 

"I can't," he utters. 

You sit in silence. You don't know what to say. You can't think. It's all too much. Why can't today just be over? 

He inhales and lets it out as he fixes his posture. He gulps thickly and you look up. He stares at you. The same look as before. The one you don't understand. 

"Sweetie," his voice is firmer and his tears are evaporated, "I have one question." You lower your brow, confused, "do you want your mom to be taken care of?" 

"What?" You squeak. 

"Your mom? You want her to be comfortable? Supported? Get the proper treatment?" He's staunch as he speaks, "you can't do it yourself. We both know you were struggling. Do you got the money for her next hospital stay? For the nurse?" 

You whimper and shake your head, "what do you mean?" 

"Sweetie, your mom needs me. You need me. Don't play dumb," he intones, "I will do anything. I will make sure mom is nice and cozy. She has her meds and everything she needs. There's only one thing I want in return." He clicks his tongue and inclines his head, "it's too bad it's the only thing you got." 

You stare at him. Through him. The whole world narrows in on you as your chest caves in. You close your eyes, wishing against everything, that it can make him go away. 

[tortillamastersblog]

⊱Drawing Stars Around Your Scars | Oliver Queen⊰

Pairing: Oliver Queen x reader

Warnings: injuries and mentions of blood

Summary: Oliver would do anything to regain your trust. . .

________________________________________________

“Good Night, Doctor Y/L/N.” Ella, one of the nurses at the nurses’ station waves me goodbye and I return the gesture with a tired smile.

I just got out of an eight hour surgery and I can’t wait to get home. I make my way through the busy halls of the hospital and down to the parking garage without changing out of my scrubs.

It’s freezing outside and when my fingers curl around the cold leather of my steering wheel I shiver.

I pull out of the underground parking garage and make my way home.

The streets of Starling City are busy, even at this time of day, which is why it doesn’t take long for me to be stuck in traffic.

I sigh and turn on the radio, humming along to the Christmas songs that are playing before my phone rings.

I glance at it and smile, answering the call on my car’s hands-free. “Speedy, what are you doing up this late? It’s a school night.” I tease, but my smile quickly vanishes and turns into a concerned frown when I hear the girl crying softly on the other end of the line.

“I’m sorry, Y/N. Are you still at work?” she say quietly.

“No, I’m not. Are you okay? What’s going on?” I ask, drumming my fingers on the steering wheel, worried.

When Oliver vanished at sea five years ago, Thea and I grew extremely close. While she grieved over her brother, I grieved over my best friend and partner in crime.

We grew so close in fact that she’s like a baby sister to me now and whenever she’s in trouble, or feeling down, I’m usually the one she calls since Moira and Walter are both emotionally unavailable.

Thea doesn’t answer right away, so I promt her softly. “Speedy? You still there?”

“I—Yeah, I’m still here. It’s just. . . Ollie. He not home, again! And he’s acting like a complete stranger. I don’t even recognize him anymore it’s just—“ she breaks down in tears and I make a u-turn the next chance I get, heading toward the Queen’s manor outside the city.

This isn’t the first time she’s broken down over Oliver’s return and how different he is compared to five years ago.

“C-Can you come over?” she hiccups and I tell her that I’m already on my way.

The traffic thins out once I’m out of the city, staying on the phone with Thea the entire time until I pull up outside of her family’s manor.

The security guard at the gate greets me with a polite smile and let’s me in without hesitation.

I get out of the car, the gravel beneath my feet crunching as I walk up to the front door, which swings open before I get the change to ring the doorbell.

Thea basically jumps on me, pulling me into a hug, and cries into my shoulder.

I hold her tight and waddle us inside, away from the cold and let the door close behind us with a gentle click.

“Thank you for coming,” Thea whispers, her grip around my shoulders not letting up.

“Of course. Anything for you, Speedy,” I reply just as quietly, rubbing my hands over her back.

We stay like that for a few minutes, enjoying each other’s company before she pulls back, her eyes roaming over my outfit.

“You just got off work, didn’t you?” she asks, guilt scrunching up her face. “You must be so tired. I’m sorry for making you come here.”

I wave her off and squeeze her shoulders. “Hey, no. Don’t be sorry. I am tired, yes, but you’re more important than sleep,” I joke softly which earns me a small smile.

Thea sighs and uses the sleeve of her sweatshirt to wipe away the remainder of her tears. Then, she eyes me hopefully before asking, “Have you had dinner yet?”

I shake my head and she pulls out her phone, waving it around for emphasis.

“Do you want to order some takeout then and watch a movie with me?”

Tomorrow is my day off, so I don’t mind staying with her, especially because she’s home alone and it seems like she could use some company right now.

“Sure,” I agree easily, “but I need a shower and some comfy clothes.”

Thea nods adamantly and pulls me upstairs and into her room.

“Use whatever you like in there. You know the drill,” she says gesturing at her en-suite bathroom. “I’ll go and find some clothes for you.”

I thank her and smile, going into the bathroom and stripping out of my scrubs before stepping into the enormous shower.

A knock on the door lets me know that Thea’s found me some clothes and she cracks it open just enough to reach inside, placing some clothes on the floor before closing the door again.

I finish quickly, shutting off the water before drying off and putting on the fresh clothes.

I frown when I pull on the pair of gray sweatpants, figuring that they can’t be Thea’s because she’s a head shorter than me and the sweatpants are oversized, even on me.

The same goes for the sweatshirt and when I pull it on and a familiar cologne surrounds wafts around me, I know why.

These are Oliver’s clothes.

I shiver involuntarily and can’t help but bury my nose in the fabric of the sweater, taking a deep breath.

I’ve missed this smell, I’ve missed Oliver, but I haven’t really admitted that to anyone since he came back.

We’ve always been best friends, but since we were teenagers I knew that my feelings for him weren’t solely platonic.

I never acted on them though because I knew we could never work. While he was a millionaire playboy, I was a nerd, passing all my classes in school with flying colors and getting into med school before even turning twenty.

I also hated how he hooked up with anyone he had a chance with, and I swore to myself a long time ago that I’d never let myself be just another one of his conquests.

Now though, things have changed. Oliver has changed and I have, too. We’re both grown up and it seems like he’s left behind his playboy lifestyle.

Every time I see him nowadays, he’s calm, well spoken, and a true gentleman. He no longer drinks or takes drugs, and I’ve caught him shamelessly staring at me quite a few times now.

It’s something he didn’t used to do, and it gets my hopes up that, maybe, he secretly feels the same way about me as I do about him, but then he goes and blows me off time and time again, without answering any of my texts or calls.

It’s gotten to the point where I don’t even agree to hanging out with him any more because I know he’ll leave me hanging anyway, but still, every time he asks me to dinner, or offers to buy some coffee my heart flutters and I feel my cheeks grow warm.

“So, what do you want to watch?” Thea asks when I exit the bedroom, throwing myself on the bed next to her.

“I don’t care,” I say honestly, checking my phone before leaning back against the headboard.

“Okayyy.” Thea hums in though. She scrolls through some movies on her TV before settling on Elf.

The opening credits start rolling and I get even more comfortable, patting Thea’s head playfully when she rests it on my shoulder.

Fifteen minutes into the movie, our food gets delivered and we eat on the bed in silence, continuing to watch the movie.

Thea eventually falls asleep and I sigh, turning off the TV.

I get off the bed and drape the comforter over her, chuckling softly when she frowns in her sleep.

“Nighty night, Speedy,” I whisper before leaving her room.

I make my way down the dark hallway toward the grand staircase, ready to go home, but the sound of breaking ceramic makes me stop in my tracks.

I squint in the darkness, straining to hear where it came from before deciding to investigate.

The sound most likely came from Oliver’s room and because he’s not supposed to be home, I’m curious to see what caused the slight commotion.

Maybe the Queens got a cat I don’t know about?

I highly doubt that, but then again, Thea’s done some crazy things over the last couple of years, lashing out every chance she got to mask her grief.

I slowly open the door to Oliver’s room and peek inside, freezing when I see a hunched over figure by one of the bedside tables.

They’re picking up what looks like shards of a vase, stacking them neatly before getting back to their feet.

A quiet grunt escapes them and once they’re upright with their back turned toward me, I recognize them, or should I say him?

It’s Oliver in his vigilante suit and when I take a closer look I notice he’s clutching at his side with one of his hands.

He’s hurt.

I turn on the light with an annoyed sigh and put my hand on my hip, watching him spin around with a dagger in his hand.

“What are you doing here?” he asks in his fake deep and gravelly voice and I just raise a challenging eyebrow in return.

“Drop the act, Ollie,” I say calmly, watching with mild amusement as his eyes widened.

“I— What are you—?” he stammers before his shoulders curl forward and he whispers, “How did you know?”

He takes off his hood and even though I know it’s him underneath, I still feel a chill run down my spine when his exhausted eyes meet mine.

I’ve known he’s the Green Arrow ever since he returned to Starling City. I mean, how could I not know?

All the sneaking around? His sudden interest in his family’s business? The constant bruises and cuts on his face?

And let’s not forget how he physically changed over the last five years. Where he used to be a thin, athletic kid he’s now a broad-shouldered hunk of a man and I’d be lying if I said it makes him less attractive.

“C’mon, Ollie,” I scoff, crossing the room to look at the injury on his side. “You do know who you’re talking to right now, don’t you?”

Oliver hangs his head and stays silent, allowing me to pull up his bloody clothes to get a better look at his side.

The wound isn’t too deep, but it will need stitches and judging by its frayed edges I’m guessing it’s a graze from a bullet.

“Do you have any medical supplies?” I ask. I have a small emergency kit in my car, but I’m too lazy to get it right now.

Luckily, Oliver nods and points at the bedside table where he was just crouching, picking up the shards of the shattered vase.

“Take off your shirt and lay on the bed,” I command without looking at him. In times like this, my doctor-ly instincts kick in and I don’t care who my patient is. All I’m focusing on is getting the wound cleaned and stitched up.

Oliver does as I say and once I’ve gotten everything I need from the bedside table, I turn to him, sucking in a breath when my eyes land on his exposed upper body.

It’s covered in scars and a tattoo I didn’t know he had and I can only imagine what he went through to look like this.

Thea did say that over twenty percent of his body was covered in scar tissue, but actually seeing it up close makes my stomach twist.

Watching me with a knowing look, Oliver gently wraps his fingers around one of my wrists which brings me back to reality.

He smiles reassuringly, silently telling me not to worry about what’s happened and I return the smile albeit a little weakly.

I take a deep breath and square my shoulders, getting to work on cleaning the wound and the area around it.

It continues to leak blood, no matter how many times I wipe at it and after a while I just give up, getting right to stitching it up.

“This might hurt,” I whisper as I press the needle against Oliver’s skin, but he not so much as twitches when the thin metal pierces his skin.

I work in silence, focusing on the work at hand before Oliver’s head rolls to the side to look at me directly as he says, “I’m sorry, Y/N.”

I hum, not taking my eyes off my hands and brush off his words, thinking he’s referring to right now, making me stitch him up and care for him, but then he continues.

“I’m sorry for blowing you off so many times over the last couple of weeks,” he says quietly. “And I’m sorry for cutting you out of my life right before getting on the Gambit with my dad.”

I clench my jaw and finish the last stitch. I stare at my hands and take a deep breath.

I tried to forget about that.

The days before getting onto that cursed yacht with his father, I called Oliver out on his hypocritical behavior and his playboy attitude which lead to him basically ending our friendship.

I cried for days, missing several important college classes, but then the news of the Queen’s Gambit sinking sobered me up and I forgot all about our falling out.

I cried some more then, this time for a different reason, but as time went on I grew numb to it and put all my energy into med school.

“It’s fine. . .” I whisper, moving to get back to work, but Oliver grabs my hand, making me look at him.

“No,” he says with furrowed eyebrows. “I was such an asshole and you were right. You’re always right and I’m really sorry it took me this long to apologize .”

I chuckle weakly, not liking the sudden tension between us and avert my eyes. “I’m not always right,” I argue,

Oliver squeezes my hand, getting me to look at him again. “Well, maybe not. . .” he says with a small smile. “But you were right about what you said and— again— I’m sorry it’s taken me this long to admit it. I felt backed into a corner when you called me out on my shit and I didn’t know what else to do other than lashing out at you.”

“Ollie—“ I try to stop him, but he cuts me off by squeezing my hand again and continuing.

“Y/N. I’ve been through. . . a lot. . . over the last five years, but I’ve also had a lot of time to think and—“he bites the inside of his cheek and scratches at his eyebrow nervously— “and you’re honestly the only constant in my life. The thought of you and sometime’s even Thea kept me going when I felt like giving up and I swore to myself that if I ever got the chance to, I’d make things right between us. . . I’d do what I should have done a long time ago.”

I gulp and try not to pull my hand from his. “What are you talking about, Ollie?”

He can’t be saying what I think he’s saying, can he?

Oliver sits up, grimacing slightly when the stitches on his waist strain against the movement, and swings his legs over the edge of the bed so he’s sitting next to me.

The heat radiating off his body makes me shiver involuntarily and when he places my hand against the scar on his chest I gasp softly.

“I don’t want to spend another day worrying about what ifs and maybes, so I’m asking you now, Y/N, would you do me the honor of going to dinner with me? As in like, a date, you know?” He stumbles a bit over the end of his sentence but his question takes my breath away nonetheless.

My brows furrow and I feel my heart clench at the conflicting feelings running through me at the moment.

“I don’t— I don’t know,” I admit.

Even though this is all I’ve been hoping for since we were kids, I can’t help but have doubts about his intentions.

What if he hasn’t changed as much as I think he has? What if he’s still a narcissistic playboy?

I don’t know if I could stand being used by him, so I shake my head and move to back away.

Seeing the doubt on my face, Oliver’s eyes soften and his hold on my hand tightens ever so slightly.

“Please, Y/N this is not— I’m not. . .” He trails off, biting his lip in thought.

Then instead of trying to explain himself, he takes a deep breath and closes his eyes briefly.

“This scar,” he says quietly, pressing my hand against the uneven patch of skin on his chest for emphasis, “is from a guy named Kovar. He. . . tried to stop me from leaving Lian Yu and pressed the hot tip of his gun against my skin, right here.”

My eyes widen, not only because no one knew he wasn’t alone on that island, but also because he’s actually telling me what happened.

Since he came back, he’s barely spoken of his time on Lian Yu and the fact that he’s willing to open up about what happened makes me trust his intentions.

He moves my hand down his chest, against a long, gnarly looking scar that follows the downward slope of his ribcage right over his stomach.

“This one is from when I first stranded on the island. There was this guy, William, or Billy, Winter—“

“No, Ollie, stop.” I cut him off, shaking my head. “You don’t have to tell me any of this just to prove yourself to me.”

It’s clear he’s struggling to put into words what happened if his overly tense muscles are anything to go by and I don’t want him to feel like he’s forced to share his trauma in order to get me to trust him again.

“But I want you to know,” he argues weakly, letting go of my hand.

I shake my head and move closer, tracing my fingers along the edge of the scar.

It makes Olive twitch slightly and I smile at the effect I have on him.

“And you can,” I assure him, skimming my fingers over his warm skin before brushing over the scar on his hip that looks suspiciously like a shark bite.

What the hell happened to him on that island. . .

“Just not now. Not all at once and not when you’re so obviously not ready to talk about it yet,” I continue, mesmerized by the way his muscles twitch beneath my touch.

I continue exploring his skin, raising an eyebrow at the tattoo on his chest before skipping over it and touching the scar on his shoulder.

They all look like they never healed properly and I get a chill, thinking about the possible infections that could have killed him, but then my train of thought is suddenly silenced when Oliver brushes his lips against my own.

Not realizing how close I’ve gotten while inspecting every little detail about him, I pull back with a surprised squeak and place a hand on his chest to stop him from closing the distance between us again.

“Shit,” he whispers, bringing a hand to his lips. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have—“

“It’s okay,” I say with a soft chuckle. I take his hand away from his mouth and lace our fingers together. “Just. . . Take me to dinner first.”

Oliver’s cheeks turn red, a rare sight, and I squeeze his hand before straining to press a kiss to his forehead.

“Right. Sorry.” He meets my eyes shyly and I smile at him when he tries to suppress a yawn.

It makes me yawn as well and Oliver gets to his feet. He kisses my knuckles and lets go of my hand.

“I need a shower,” he explains before nervously scratching at his eyebrow again. “Will you still be here when I get out?”

I melt at how vulnerable he sounds and nod, slipping under the covers of his bed. “Only if you don’t take too long.”

Oliver’s eyes widen comically and he springs into action, gathering some clothes before rushing into the bathroom.

________________________________________________

God, the chokehold this man’s got me in. . .

[scoonsalicious]

1/Uncovered

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Pocket!Reader

Summary: Family is complicated. Family is messy. Family is what you make it.

Warnings: (For this part only; see Story Masterlist for general Warnings) Language, mention of sexual situations.

Word Count: 2.8k

Previously On...: Fuck the one-shots-- we're in miniseries territory now, baby! Consider this a kind of teaser that bridges us from Unwanted to Unbroken.

A/N: I HAVE MISSED YOU. I HAVE MISSED THEM. WELCOME BACK, BITCHES!

No release schedule for this one, though-- sorry. We going in raw.

Banner by my beloved @mrsbuckybarnes1917; poor recolor by me.

If you ever feel so inclined to support my work, hop on over to buy me a coffee; it's much appreciated! <3

NOTE! The tag list is a fickle bitch, so I'm not really going to be dealing with it anymore. If you want to be notified when new story parts drop, please follow @scoonsaliciousupdates

Thank you to all those who have been reading; if you like what you've read, likes, comments, and reblogs give me life, and I truly appreciate them, and you!

Laying on the chaise lounge on the apartment terrace, you lazily ran your fingers through Bucky’s soft hair as he rested his head against you. The two of you were taking the rare break in your busy schedules to enjoy some quiet reading time– you had finally convinced Bucky to read To Kill a Mockingbird after trying to (poorly, in your opinion, but you were a science nerd, not a literary major) explain how it was the most important piece of American Literature ever written. He’d argued with you, firmly stating that title belonged to The Jungle, and while you didn’t discount the importance of Upton Sinclair’s work, you failed to see how he could make the distinction when he’d missed out on almost one hundred years of The Great American Novel. 

He’d only conceded to giving it a chance once you promised to reread it along with him, so you could discuss it together and now, here you were, enjoying the cool breeze that came in off the Hudson that cut through the late Summer heat, letting your imagination wander along with the adventures of Scout, Jem, and Dill. 

“Gotta say, sweets,” Bucky said absentmindedly as he turned a page, “kinda surprised you love this book so much. Over a hundred pages in and nobody’s having sex; doesn’t seem like your kinda story.”

“Shut up,” you chastised him, playfully tugging on a strand of his chestnut locks. “Not all my interests are smut-related, thank you.”

“Coulda fooled me,” Bucky chuckled as he stroked his fingers along your thigh where it rested next to his side. “Always such a dirty mind to go with that dirty mouth.”

You tried to suppress the shiver that went through your body at his touch, but it was like trying to keep the sun’s rays from warming your skin– impossible. He was already lying between your legs on the chaise while you read, his head resting comfortably on the soft curve of your stomach, his vibranium arm propped posessively over your knee. 

“Behave,” you warned him, though your voice didn’t hold any real heat. “We’re supposed to be reading.” You both knew that, if Bucky really wanted to distract you from the book in favor of other more… intimate activities, it wouldn’t take much work for him to do so, and you wouldn’t even be mad about it. 

Though you couldn’t see it from the way you were laying, you could easily picture the smirk that was gracing his face in your mind’s eye. “Okay, okay,” he conceded. “I’ll be good, I promise.” 

You wanted to believe him, but the way he kept teasing you by drawing soft patterns on the skin of your leg with his fingertips told you otherwise. You’d tried to ignore him, but you were only human. 

“Bucky,” you groaned in frustration as his fingers climbed ever higher along the outside of your thigh. “You are not playing fair!”

Bucky tilted his head back so he could look at you. “Whaddaya mean, doll?” he asked, his face the picture of innocence. “I’m just readin’ my book. Not m’fault, you’re so sensitive.”

You rolled your eyes at him; you were minutes away from just tossing the book to the ground and locking your legs around him, and you knew he knew it, too.

Before you could make a move, though, your phone began pinging with incoming alerts, one after the other, in a seemingly neverending barage of notitifcations. You frowned as you both turned to stare at the device where it sat on the coffee table. 

“Who’s textin’ you like a crazy person?” Bucky asked, slowly sitting up between your legs to look back at you.

You shook your head and frowned. “That’s not my text tone,” you told him. “That’s my Google Alerts notification.”

Bucky’s brow furrowed and he leaned forward, picking your phone up from the table. “May I?” he asked, inclining his head toward it. 

“Please,” you nodded, granting him permission to unlock your phone and check the notifications as you sat up straighter, pulling your knees against your chest.

Bucky quickly tapped in your passcode and began scanning the screen. You were grateful he’d taken the initiative to look for you– there was only one thing you’d ever set a Google Alert for: your own name, and every time you received one, your heart would stop in your chest, convinced that this time, someone would have uncovered the truth about your abusive past and the horrible things that had been done to you as a child.

You weren’t ashamed of what you’d endured. No, the years of sexual assualt you’d suffered at the hands of your mother’s boyfriend and the men he pimped you out to had made you stronger, given you courage, tenacity, drive to make something of yourself, but the secrets of your past were yours to divulge at your discretion, and you’d lived under a constant cloud of fear that one day, the choice of who to share that information with would be taken from you.

After a moment, Bucky sighed and held out the phone to you. “I’m sorry, sweetheart,” he said softly, and you felt your heart seize in your chest. “Looks like we’ve finally been found out.”

With a confused frown, you took the phone from Bucky and glanced down at the screen. You were suddenly hit with the wildest sense of deja vu as you read the headlines that filled the page, and you weren’t sure if you wanted to laugh at how you’d worried over nothing, or cry over the memories the headlines invoked:

Cold War Love Affair: Winter Soldier Caught in Scandalous Romance with Stark Exec!

Winter Soldier’s Shocking Romance: Bucky Barnes Steals Cap's Flame, Sparks Fly at Avengers’ Tower!

Captain America Left in the Cold? Winter Soldier Spotted Getting Cozy with Stark Industries CTO!

Is Bucky Barnes Breaking the Bro Code? Winter Soldier Moves In on Captain America’s Girl!

Demotion in Rank? Stark Industry’s Tech Queen Downgrades from Captain to Sergeant!

Winter Soldier & Stark's Leading Lady: Romance Heats Up Between Avengers' Baddest and Brightest!

You ended up breathing out a relieved laugh. Your past remained behind closed doors, exactly where you wanted it to stay and, unlike the last time you found yourself the subject of tabloid fodder, at least you were being romantically linked to the right man for a change. Granted, you could have done without the implication that you and Steve had any sort of romantic history, but you’d take what you could get when it came to these vultures.

Bucky, however, looked like he was about to be sick.

“Baby?” you asked tentatively as you put the phone down and picked up his hand. “Are you okay? Why do you look so upset?”

Bucky exhaled loudly and looked up at you through his lashes. “I’m so sorry, Pocket,” he said softly.

You looked at him, baffled by his demeanor. “Sorry? Buck… what on earth do you have to be sorry about? So people finally found out about us– so what? It’s not like we were ever keeping us a secret.”

“I know,” he sighed, running his hands through his hair, “but this…” he nodded toward the phone, “this can’t be good for your reputation. I can’t be good for your reputation.”

“Fuck my reputation,” you scoffed playfully, picking up the phone as you began looking through the headlines again. “Baby, the only people who’s opinions of me I give a shit about are you and the people who live in the Tower. I couldn’t possibly care less what the general public thinks of me. We don’t owe them anything. We don’t belong to them.” 

Bucky gave you a look as though you were being incredibly naive. “Sweetheart, people hate me. They wanna see me locked away for the rest of my life for the things I’ve done. They’re gonna look at you, and they’re not gonna see the brilliant, amazing woman that you are. They’re gonna see someone willing to date a monster. And they’re gonna judge you for it. They’re gonna treat you differently because of it, punish you for loving me, and I’m so sorry for that.”

You barked out an unintended laugh as you reviewed the comments on one of the articles. “Baby, I don’t think you have to worry about that.” He looked at you with a puzzled expression. “Oh, they definitely seem to hate me, alright,” you added, turning the phone back for him to look at, “but it’s not for the reasons you think.”

He curiously took the phone from your hands and scrolled through the comments, his face growing more and more angry as he read: bbarneslover: Ugh, how does she land Bucky Barnes? She's literally just… a nerd. → makemehowlcommando: Wow, really? Her? Guess even superheroes lower their standards sometimes.       → bbarneslover: I could treat him way better. What does she even have that the rest of us don't?

→ wintersoldierwifu: How much ya’ll wanna bet it’s just a PR stunt?!

→ hydrahottie4bucky: She better watch out. Bucky deserves someone who actually appreciates him—not someone chasing clout who fucked his best friend! → wokeupwithbucky: I can’t believe Bucky would fall for someone like her! It should be me! →hydrahottie4bucky: She’s only with him because of the Avengers connection, not because she cares about him! → bucky’snaughtynightmare: She couldn’t care less about Bucky’s trauma. She’s just after the Avengers clout, obviously. → barnesinmybedroom: Bitch probably doesn’t even understand Bucky's past like real fans do!

→ bucky'snaughtynightmare: First Captain America, now Bucky? I don’t want to call slut, but… → bbarneslover: Girl’s out here collecting Avengers like Pokémon. We all know the rumors about her and Tony Stark. → bucky’snaughtynightmare: Pathetic. What, is there some “Collect All Avengers” achievement we don’t know about?

→ barnesridesmerough: I’m sorry, but how does a glorified IT girl snag two Avengers? Must be some kind of tech magic.     → bucky’snaughtynightmare: Magic tech vagina, maybe.

→ makemehowlcommando: She’s just Cap’s leftovers. Bucky deserves so much better than some sloppy seconds! → bucky’sbadgirl: It’s obviously a attention thing for her. Can’t believe Bucky’s falling for this! → barnesridesmerough: I give it a month before he comes to his senses and dumps her. She’s not right for him! → makemehowlcommando: LOL, she won’t last a week. He’ll get bored and dump her for someone interesting. → barnesridesmerough: From your lips to Bucky’s ears! Ugh, this girl sucks!

→ brooklynbadboylover: Daddy? Sorry. Daddy? Sorry. Why does he make me so feral?! → bucky’sbadgirl: He could choke me out any day. Either with his arm or his dick, idc… → darkchocolate78: Ya’ll need Jesus. Besides. I think they're cute together.

The scowl on Bucky’s face was almost adorable as you watched him grow offended on your behalf. “How do we get them to take this stuff down?” he asked you. 

You gently took the phone back from him and began typing away at the comments section. “Not really much we can do about it, Buckaroo,” you told him. “Once it’s on the internet, it’s pretty much forever.

Bucky frowned at your lack of concern. “I’m not just gonna sit back and let a bunch of strangers talk shit about you like that, Pocket.”

“I’ve heard much worse, trust me,” you said with a shrug. “Besides, why should I be mad when they’re just jealous? I can’t blame them. You’re fucking delicious. I feel sorry for them for not being me.” You quirked an eyebrow at him over your phone, trying to be playful, but he wasn’t having it. You snorted as you finished typing. “Besides, I’m not doing ‘nothing.’” You grinned as you turned your phone back to him so he could see what you just typed. → BuckyBarnesFucker69: Oh, I’m sure she sucks alright… like a fucking Hoover. Probably the only reason he’s kept her around as long as he has. Only thing a mouth like that is good for. “Pocket, this…” Bucky spluttered, “this is awful! I—” He stopped and turned to look at you as you started laughing maniacally. His gaze went between you and the comment in front of him, then back again. “You’re BuckyBarnesFucker69, aren’t you?”

You bit your lip, trying to fight the grin that was desperate to escape across your face. “Mayyyyybee,” you offered mischieviously. 

Bucky glared at you, a combination of confusion and frustration clouding his features. “Why the fuck would you play into this?” he asked. “It’s like… you’re letting them bully you.”

His indignance on your behalf warmed your heart and you scooted closer to him to wrap your arms around his neck. “It’s very sexy that you want to defend my honor, Buck,” you said, pressing your lips to the stubble on his cheek. “But you don’t have to worry about it– I’m in on the joke, now. They think they’re laughing at me, but they don’t realize they’re actually laughing with me. So, I win.”

Bucky’s gaze was skeptical as studied your face. “You’re certifiable. You realize that, right?” he asked eventually, a slight smile pulling at the edge of his lips. 

“Uh huh,” you agreed with an enthusiastic nod. “But you love my brand of crazy.”

Bucky sighed dramatically. “God help me, I do,” he said, pulling you down into his lap. He brushed a strand of hair away from your face before his gaze turned serious again. “Are you sure this is all okay, though, doll?” he asked.

You repositioned yourself on his lap, straddling his thighs as you turned to face him. “I’m sure,” you told him. “I know it’s hard for you to believe sometimes, but I’m proud to be your girl, Bucky Barnes. I don’t care if the whole world knows it. Fuck, I want them to know it. I want them to look at you and see the man I see, every time. To see all the good things about you that I love so much.”

Bucky’s gaze turned soft as he stroked your cheek with his flesh thumb. “And what are all the good things you love about me?”

You pulled back slightly, giving him a wary look. “Oh, fishing for compliments now, are we?” you teased.

The grin he gave you was enough to light a fire low in your belly. “Maybe one or two,” he admitted cheekily. 

“You have a magic dick,” you told him with a grin. Your natural instinct was to make a joke of it, and you thought you were going to keep going in that vein, but in the moment, you suddenly felt the need to be serious, to be honest with him. “You’re a good man. Even after everything you’ve been through, you still try. No one would ever fault you if you just threw in the towel and said ‘fuck it, I’m done,’ but that’s not who you are. You keep fighting, even when you don’t have to, but you do it because it’s the right thing to do. You do it so that other people won’t suffer the way you were made to suffer. 

“You make me laugh, Bucky. You’re warm, and kind, and yeah, you occasionally fuck up sometimes, but you learn from it. You’re always striving to be a better version of yourself, and you make me want to be a better version of myself, too. You–” you had to pause to clear your throat. Somewhere along the way, you realized you’d started getting worked up with emotion. 

“You’re the best friend I’ve ever had. I know… I know I’m not always an easy person to love. I know I have my issues, and a lot of guys would have looked at all my damage and probably just run in the opposite direction, but not you. You’ve never been anything but patient and loving and gentle with me.” You choked back a soft sob. “I never thought anyone would ever be able to love me, with my history and my baggage, but there you were. And baby, you love me better than I could have ever even wished for, because despite everything you’ve been through, you have such a big heart. And that’s what I love about you the most– they put you through hell, and you’d be well within your rights to turn your back on the entire fucking planet, but you don’t. You choose to save it. Every damned day, you make the choice to be a good man. And I fucking love you for it.” 

You sniffed and wiped at your face, your hand coming away wet with tears. “Shit,” you laughed, embarrassed at the way your emotions had taken over. “Was not planning on going full-drama on you. Should have just stuck with the ‘magic dick’ part. Sorry.”

Bucky was silent as you regained your composure, looking at you with an intensity that unnerved you.

“Say something, Buck," you chuckled in an awkward attempt to relieve the tension you felt under his gaze, "otherwise I’m going to think I embarrassed myself right out of this relationship.” You weren’t sure what you wanted him to say to you– just reassure you hadn’t made a complete fool of yourself in front of him, you supposed, but when he opened his mouth, he took you completely by surprise.

“Marry me.”

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[consciouscarrot]

day 9 - edging [n.wheeler]

nancy wheeler x fem!reader

content warnings; fingering (r!receiving), edging (obvi), brief clit slapping and squirting, (good) crying, little bit of degradation- name calling (slut)

notes; idk if anyone even reads nancy anymore, but i still like her so bon appetite. barely proof read bc my sister is blasting music so i can’t focus lol

kinktober/flufftober masterlist

—————

you should’ve known not to be a brat in public, showing her up in front of your mutual friends. you’d realised that you’d made a mistake when after a particularly bratty comment, nancy had given you a dirty look and pinched your bum harshly.

now, she had you spread eagle on your bed, her digits rapidly pumping inside of your soaked cunt, hitting your g-spot repeatedly as you whined and squirmed. she’d already denied your orgasm four times, pushing you right to the edge before completely stopping her actions, forcing you to come back down.

“stay still,” she barked out, forearm pushing down on the backs of your thighs to hold you in place.

you whimpered out your apologies, trying your hardest to do as she said with hot tears pouring down your reddened cheeks.

pleasure began to coil tightly in your tummy again, and your eyes pleaded with her to let you cum this time, legs shaking as your slick dripped down your ass and onto the lilac sheets.

her features softened, sympathetic with you being so drunk with pleasure, desperate for your release.

just as you really thought that she was finally going to give you permission, but her fingers left your warm heat again, leaving your cunt throbbing.

you cried out in frustration, openly sobbing as you decided to take initiative, your own fingers replacing nancy’s.

she smacked your hand away, past sympathy gone, “don’t touch what’s mine.”

“i’m sorry, i’m- uh wanna cum, please, i wanna be good,”

“just wanna be a little slut for me, don’t you, baby?” she blank, “it’s okay, sweet girl. you only have to hold on a little bit longer.”

she slapped your clit harshly, before resuming her motions, finger fucking you even faster than before. you screamed as the sound of your slick pussy filled the room, wet squelching as your arousal poured out onto her pruned fingers.

your orgasm build back up quickly, chest heaving to try and take in as much oxygen as possible. you couldn’t take this anymore, needing to cum more than anything.

“have you learnt your lesson?” she asked, head tilting as she watched you squirm.

“y-yes yes yes, please please, yes i promise, i-,” you wailed out, head thrown back and back arching off your bed.

“cum for me,” she said, bending down and sucking your swollen clit into her mouth, sending you over the edge.

your eyes rolled back, mouth gaping in a silent scream before near constant moans tumbled out, your hands grasped for something to hold onto, only settling when nancy removed her arm from your legs to hold your hands in hers.

fluid released onto her, dripping down her face as she refused to let go of you, latching on for as long as you could possibly take.

she slowed her fingers, drawing out your orgasm as she encouraged you to slowly come down from the high.

she gently lowered your legs down, careful to avoid giving you any cramps in your vulnerable state. she crawled up the bed to lay on her side next to you, elbow holding up her torso. stroking a hand over your face, wiping away salty tears and pressing loving kisses over where they’d flowed.

she whispered soft praises to you, telling you how good you’d been for her, how she’d forgiven you, that you dealt with your punishment so well, that she was endlessly proud of you, soothing you until you fell asleep.

when your breathing evened out, she cleaned you up, dressing you in minimal clothing, before cuddling up to you and falling asleep herself.