#I’m so happy for you ❤️❤️❤️❤️
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Ahhh thank you! I know I don’t talk a lot on here but there are so many people I’m happy to see! I love to see my mutuals, so many of the Black Clover blogs I follow, and those who appear a lot in my notes! I appreciate you all ❤️
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Hold You Tight: Part 17
Pairing: Club Owner!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader
Fic Summary: The owner of The 107th wants you to be his girl whether you like it or not.
Part 16 | Series Masterlist | Part 18
Chapter Word Count: Over 5.9k
Chapter Summary: You take a step further in your relationship with Bucky.
Chapter Warnings: DARK AU, dubcon elements, dirty talk, thigh riding, tension, kissing, reference to stalking, inner turmoil, manipulation, Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?), more warnings to come.
A/N: More Hold You Tight! Thank you for sticking with me! Bucky edit by the beautiful @nixakimbo ❤️ Beta read by the lovely @whisperlullaby but any and all mistakes are my own. Divider by the talented @firefly-graphics . Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!
You tried to occupy yourself as you waited for Bucky to pick you up. You made sure you had your outfit for tomorrow and sent Addison a text to confirm when and where you were meeting. God, what if Bucky insisted on dropping you off? He likely would. There was no way he’d let you head over on your own, unless Ray or someone dropped you off.
“What am I doing?” you muttered.
Staring at yourself in the mirror, you frowned. You had changed out of your work clothes and into something more comfortable. He would think you looked sexy no matter what you wore, even if you didn’t try. What was he going to expect or demand from you? There was no way you’d go through the entire evening in his home without him touching you or something.
You weren’t sure if the anticipation was worse or knowing he’d probably make your body enjoy whatever he’d do to you, and use that as a weapon against you.
The knock on your door made you jump. Had two hours passed already? You checked the peephole and saw Bucky on the other side, shifting from one foot to the other. At least he didn’t break his way inside like he could’ve easily done.
“Hi.” You slowly opened the door to let him in. “I-”
Bucky had you against the wall before you could finish, his lips insistently pressing against yours. The kiss only lasted seconds, but it felt like hours when he pulled away. “Don’t walk home alone again,” he whispered with a brief flash of fear in his eyes.
You nodded after a moment. The conversation from earlier was still on his mind, clearly. “I won’t.”
“You look beautiful by the way.” Taking a breath, he ran both hands through his hair and straightened up. He looked like his normal self again, and you knew it. No matter what he’d find you attractive. “Is this everything?” he asked, picking up the overnight bag and garment bag that you had left by the door.
“Yeah, it should be,” you said, making sure you had your phone and purse, too.
“Was the rest of your day okay?” he asked, watching carefully as you locked the door.
“It was fine,” you replied. You were so busy thinking about Bucky that you hadn’t thought much about Clark. “Was yours?”
“Better now that I’m taking you back to our place,” he said. There was that spring in his step again, like he was allowed to be happy since he knew you were really okay after walking home alone.
“You don’t have to go to the club tonight?” you asked.
“Only if there’s an emergency. There’s no special event tonight, no reason to make an appearance, and my staff knows how to take care of the place,” he assured you. “Time with you is much more important than that.”
When someone like Bucky had the kind of money he did, you imagined he’d drop just about anything to spend time with you and it wouldn’t make a dent in his pocketbook. Even if he lost everything tomorrow, it would be the same. Somehow you’d come first.
Once you were outside, you were surprised to find Steve standing by Bucky’s car instead of Ray. “Hi,” the blonde smiled with a row of perfect teeth.
“Hi,” you replied, stepping a bit closer to Bucky. Steve was his best friend, but you still didn’t know him well. What you did know was that he had his own woman he was stalking.
“Steve insisted on talking to you about that double date.” Bucky playfully rolled his eyes and refused to let his friend take the bags from his hands. He really didn’t want anyone else carrying your things or opening doors for you. “He’s stubborn, but you get used to it after a while.”
“I’m stubborn?” Steve chuckled. “Pot meet kettle.”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Bucky smiled, helping you into the car.
The interaction between the two of them was so natural and easy. You imagined that in another life they were decent men who fought for others instead of trapping them. “So, what exactly did you want to talk about?” you asked once you took off.
“Well, we can talk about how excited Bucky is that you’re spending the night,” Steve teased.
“I think she knows,” Bucky smirked, your cheeks hot. Did the whole gang feed into his delusion of what would happen if you stayed over?
“Did you want to talk about the double date?” you asked, hoping the topic switch would help.
“Well, my girl likes art and Bucky mentioned how you sometimes like to relax with a glass of wine,” Steve began, smiling at you in the mirror. “So, I was thinking, we could do one of those wine and painting classes. Just the four of us.”
“But if you didn’t want to do a painting, they do something similar with pottery where everyone can pick their own piece to paint,” Bucky said, slipping an arm over your shoulders.
“Dinner before the painting, too. It would be really nice for you two to talk,” Steve continued, tapping a finger on the steering wheel. “She’s a sweet girl with a big heart, but she doesn’t have many friends nearby like you do.”
“I mean, I’m fine with painting a canvas or pottery. I think we should let her choose since art is one of her passions.” Your heart went out to the girl. Was that why Steve set his sights on her? Did he feel like he was rescuing her in some sense? “And does she have a preference on wine? White or red? Sweet or dry? Maybe I can pick a bottle for her while I’m at the vineyard tomorrow.”
Steve glanced at you again in the mirror, impressed. “That’s very considerate of you,” he said, sharing a quick look with Bucky, too. “And she likes sparkling sweet wine.”
“I have a very considerate girl,” Bucky boasted, kissing your temple. “You really are thoughtful.”
“I try to be,” you whispered, not wanting to make a big deal out of it. “I’m sure Bucky will give me the details once it’s set up,” you said, not finding it in you to argue since you were outnumbered.
“He will,” Steve smiled, clearing his throat. “And now that we have that out of the way…”
“Really, punk?” Bucky asked, tightening his hand on our shoulder.
You sat up a little. All the warmth had left his voice, and he tensed up beside you. “What’s going on?”
“Tell her, Buck,” Steve urged.
You held your breath. Was this about earlier in the day when Ray spoke with Bucky? “Yes, please, tell me.”
Bucky’s jaw clenched. “Mrs. Crandle wasn’t at work today, was she?” he asked as if he already knew the answer.
“No, she…” Your eyes widened. Kate said she called out for some business reason. “Oh, my god. Is she okay?”
“She’s fine, she’s fine,” Bucky assured you, cupping your cheeks. “She’s okay. I didn’t mean to scare you.”
“For now, she is,” Steve muttered under his breath.
“Just shut up and drive,” Bucky ordered when you gasped. “The reason she was suddenly out of work today was because of Zemo.”
Your heart sank. What the hell would Zemo want with Mrs. Crandle? “What do you mean?”
“From what we’ve gathered, he met up with her to tell her that she won an all expenses paid trip to a flower expo. She was shocked since she didn’t remember even entering the contest, but he told her someone anonymously registered her,” he explained. “He asked questions about some of her employees in case she wanted to bring anyone from her shop along and your name came up.”
“But why?” you asked. Why would Zemo make a contest just to talk to your boss?
“We still don’t know the angle.” Bucky’s jaw clenched. “He could be doing it to show that can get to people close to you.”
“Like you with Addison and Brady?” you asked. Nick was Brady’s boss now, and it was clear that it wasn’t a coincidence.
“Bucky doesn’t have his hand in the shop out of respect for you, and Zemo knows that,” Steve chimed in before Bucky could argue. “So it’s possible that he may be trying to butter Mrs. Crandle up before he makes an offer, whether it’s to offer some kind of protection or to buy out her shop completely.”
The thought of Zemo owning the shop where you worked or having his hand in it made your stomach turn. “She loves her shop, and she’s honest when it comes to business. She wouldn’t want someone stepping in or buying it,” you said, your breathing a bit heavier. “Is she in danger? Is something going to happen to her because of me?”
If something happened to Mrs. Crandle, you’d never forgive yourself.
“It isn’t because of you, Kotyonok. It’s his actions,” Bucky answered. Just like Bucky’s actions put you in the line of fire. “I hesitated telling you because we still need answers, but she’s safe. We also have someone keeping an eye on her, just to exercise caution.”
You exhaled. If Zemo was trying to scare you, it was working. “Please, don’t keep me in the dark,” you said. Even if it scared you, you had to know. “And Mrs. Crandle is one of the most harmless people in the city and the shop is all she has. If he-”
“We won’t let anything happen to her,” Bucky promised. It was a lot to promise. “And I’m sorry I didn’t say something this morning. I just wanted you to have a normal day.”
You understood part of Bucky’s reasoning. Telling you even when she wasn't in immediate danger would've thrown your whole day off. But what was a normal day now? “We deal with ups and downs every day. So just tell me next time something’s going on, especially if it involves someone important to me.” Ignorance isn't bliss in the world Bucky lived in.
He regarded you with a soft smile. “I will.”
You stayed quiet for the remainder of the ride while Bucky and Steve discussed dinner options for the double date night. It would’ve been endearing with how excited they were, had it not been for the fact that you and Steve’s girl didn’t exactly have a choice. What was going to happen at Thor’s party?
And what about your loved ones? Were they safe? You thought being by Bucky’s side would keep them safe from his wrath, but what if Zemo went after them? You had to trust that Bucky and his men wouldn't allow that to happen.
“You two have fun tonight,” Steve winked. “Try not to get too handsy, jerk.”
“What?” you asked, your throat dry once you realized you were at Bucky’s place. God, you were really there. There was no backing out.
“Just get in your car and go, punk,” Bucky chuckled, helping you out and grabbing your things. “He really is excited for you and his girl to become friends.”
“I’ll bet,” you said, giving Steve a small wave for his benefit.
You counted the number of steps from the car to the elevator. This was similar to when he brought you here the first time because you didn’t know what to expect. You weren’t sure if it was better or worse though knowing what you knew now.
“Where’s Ray?” you asked.
“He’s busy,” Bucky answered cryptically, sweeping his gaze over you. “You seem nervous. If you’d rather skip your day out tomorrow, I can help you find a few ways to relax.”
“How about I find a way to relax and still go out tomorrow?” you suggested.
“You’re really determined to go. And here I thought Steve and I were the stubborn ones,” he smirked, guiding you into the penthouse. “Why don’t you take a seat in the living room and I’ll put your stuff in the bedroom?”
“Okay,” you breathed, hoping he didn’t notice you trembling as you walked through the place. It felt warmer than the last time you were there, more like the temperature that you kept at your place. And as dangerous as Bucky was, you somehow felt safe being there. Someone like Zemo wasn’t going to get in there. Clark wouldn’t either.
Rubbing your arms, you took a seat on the sofa. It was a beautiful room, but nothing like your living room. It wasn't just the difference in size, but you noticed once again that there were no nicknacks or homey touches. Maybe you could add a pop or color or even some flowers to… Oh, God. You were really thinking of how you’d decorate the place.
“You still look nervous,” Bucky said once he joined you, giving you absolutely no space as he took a seat. “You don’t have to be.”
“I’m not nervous,” you lied, biting your lip. “Okay, I am a little.”
He hummed. “Were you expecting me to drag you to bed?”
You nodded slowly. He behaved himself in the car with Steve there, but now the two of you were alone and you had no idea where Ray was. There was nothing to stop him from taking what he thought belonged to him.
“You thought sex would make it up to me because you walked home alone?”
“No,” you said immediately. You shouldn’t have to give him sex to say you’re sorry, especially when he had a much longer list of things he needed to apologize for. “I just thought this was a natural step in a relationship, you know? Spending the night together.”
A natural step would’ve been him staying at your place, too, but he was certain you would live at his place. And having him in your space, it didn’t feel the same. It was something you wanted to keep sacred.
“It is a natural step, but I don’t think you offered to stay here to make it up to me.”
His statement surprised you. That was part of the reason. If you made it up to him, he wouldn’t object to you going out with your friends. You weren’t going to bring up Clark or that the thought of being alone at your place made you nervous. “Then why else do you think I’m here?” you asked.
“Because you like being near me,” he said, your eyes rounding. “You slept beside me last night and you want to experience that again. Either that or being near me makes you feel safer than you want to admit.”
You scoffed. “No, that’s…” You shook your head. “I mean, no. That’s just-”
He gently smiled. “It's okay to admit. It'll be our secret.”
You shook your head again. Admitting that being in his arms wasn’t terrible and that his place did feel safer than yours at the moment would give him another win. “I'm not admitting anything.”
The smile on his face widened. “Is it because I'm right and you don't want me to be right?”
“Maybe this was a bad idea,” you said, standing and crossing your arms. “I should just go.”
“No, no, no. I’ll stop teasing. Please stay,” he nearly begged, getting to his feet, too. “How about I run you a bath and you can relax?”
“...A bath?” you asked. It wasn’t fair. He knew how much you loved taking baths.
He nodded. “A warm bath and a glass of wine, too.”
You uncrossed your arms, avoiding his hopeful gaze. It was a bit of a rough day, on top of a rough week. You deserved to relax. “Okay, that actually sounds really nice.”
He smiled and offered his hand. “I have bath bombs or salts if you want those, too. Anything to help you relax.”
“You have bath bombs?” you asked, your curiosity peaked. “What kind?”
“I have honeysuckle, lavender, vanilla,” he smiled softly. Each scent sounded like something that would help make the stress leave your body. “Let me show you.”
You let him lead the way you were pretty sure most of your apartment could fit inside the luxurious bathroom. The inviting tub almost made you burst into happy tears. It was nothing like your builder's grade tub. This was an honest to goodness clawfoot tub of your dreams.
“You like it?” Bucky smiled.
Blinking, you remembered Bucky saying how he wanted to fuck you in his tub. Would it be tonight? “I love it,” you admitted.
His smile stretched from ear to ear. “I’ll grab a tray and I can bring you a book if you want. Or you can just relax and enjoy your wine.”
“Well.” You thought it over. “I wouldn’t mind a book.”
Bucky nodded and brought the bath bombs out for you to choose from before he ushered you into the bedroom. “Why don't you stay here and pick one out while I'll get everything else you need?”
“Okay,” you said, holding your breath as you stared at the king sized bed. You avoided looking at it when he led you into the bathroom, but now you couldn’t help yourself. That was the bed he expected you to sleep with him in… the bed he’d fuck you and make love to you in. The satin sheets were a dark promise that he’d get everything he wanted and more.
Shaking your head, you carefully picked up each bath bomb and gave them a sniff. Each one smelled better than the last, and your eyes nearly rolled back at the one you selected. You wondered if he had these before you met or if he bought them specifically for you to have available.
Bucky came back after a minute and took your hand, guiding you back into the bathroom. “I’ve got everything all set.” The tub was steaming, candles were lit, and there was a generous glass of wine waiting on the tray with a book. “There's a robe on the back of the door, and I'll make sure fresh pajamas are ready for when you get out.”
You tried not to choke up. It felt romantic, but you appreciated how thoughtful it was. “I…” You had to clear your throat. “I brought pajamas.”
“I know, but I wanted to surprise you,” he smiled. “They’re your size and I think you’ll like them.”
“Thanks.” What other clothes did he have waiting for you? “What will you do while I'm in the tub?”
“I have a couple of calls to make.” He kissed your forehead. “And there's something else I want to set up for you.”
You shook your head. “I think this is more than enough,” you said honestly. He didn’t have to go to the trouble of setting this up. “But…” You fidgeted a little. “You promise you won’t just… barge in, right?”
This was still his home. He could easily make an excuse to go into his bathroom for whatever reason. And being naked in the bathtub, you’d be more vulnerable than normal.
Bucky’s eyebrows pinched. “Of course I won’t. This is your relaxing time,” he promised, kissing your forehead again as you breathed easier. “And like I said, I have a few things to do.”
You felt a little sheepish at his expression. “I’m sorry. I just…”
“Nothing to apologize for. I don't blame you for double checking.” He patted your backside with a gentle hand. “Just enjoy your time.”
With a small smile, he shut the door behind him. You waited a full minute after hearing his footsteps fade before you undressed and added the bath bomb to the tub. The scent brought a smile to your face before you tested the water temperature with your hand. It felt perfect, evident by your sigh once you got in.
You took your time sipping your wine as you began to read. Was this really going to be your bathroom now? Would you relax here after a rough shift or just because you felt like it? How many nights would Bucky insist on joining you?
But the man was, surprisingly, true to his word. He hadn’t disturbed you once. Even after you finished your glass and added more warm water to the tub, he didn’t knock or barge in. Even when you grudgingly got out of the tub and dried off before you pulled the plush robe on, he wasn’t sitting there waiting. Was he actually respecting your boundaries?
Peeking out into the bedroom, Bucky had laid out a pair of soft pajamas like he promised and was still nowhere to be seen. You were still quick to change so he couldn’t sneak a look at you. But where was he?
You thought of calling out when you went to search for him since the lights were dimmed all over the penthouse. Your fingers touched one of the walls. Would he ever hang a picture of his mom up or was it too painful?
Tiptoeing over to the balcony when you saw the door open, you spotted Bucky reading a book, too, and sipping whiskey from a tumbler. He looked completely at ease, lost in his own lonely world, and you weren’t sure if you should disturb him. Turning around, you wondered where you should go. Maybe you could curl up on the couch or something before he could-
“All finished in the bath?”
You froze and turned back toward him, his hair gently blowing in the breeze. “Yeah, sorry. I didn't know what to do when I was done, so I was going to wander around.”
He downed the rest of his glass and smiled. “You're welcome to wander, except into the den which is being redone.” He offered his hand again when he stood. “Did you enjoy your bath?”
“I did. That bath bomb was incredible,” you said. There was no reason to lie. “So was the wine.”
You gulped a little. Oh, god. You didn’t see him pour the glass. Why did you accept that from him? He could’ve put something in it. No, he wouldn’t. He wanted you to want him without that sort of influence.
“I'll get you more. The bath bomb and the wine.” he smiled, leading you back to the living room where he had pillows and blankets set up.
“Bucky, you didn’t have to-”
“I don't have to do anything, but I wanted to. Do you like it?”
You looked at the lush blankets and fluffy pillows. Like the bathroom, it looked like a dream. Looking back at him, you smiled softly at his once again hopeful expression. He carried himself with such confidence and didn't seem to care if he impressed others except for you. “I do. Thank you.”
He smiled, too, his whole face bright. “I thought it would be another good way to relax.”
The memory of Clark walking you home popped in your mind for some reason before you pushed it away. “This is all thoughtful, but aren't I supposed to be making it up to you?”
He frowned a little at your expression. “You being here is more than enough.” His fingers barely grazed your cheek. “Are you okay?”
You blinked and nodded. “I’m fine.”
Bucky considered you and you couldn’t help but fidget again when he pinned you with his gaze. “Is something wrong?” he asked.
You bit the inside of your cheek and closed your eyes. “I just don't understand why you’re doing all of this.”
He could’ve been manipulating you again, but it actually seemed like he was trying to be a doting boyfriend without expecting anything in return. Your guard was down enough for him to worm his way in, and you all too easily accepted the kind gestures. Why were you making it easy for him?
“You mean setting up the blankets and pillows? I thought we could lay together and watch a movie. Or talk.” His fingers touched your cheek again. “Whatever you want.”
You avoided his gaze when you opened your eyes. “That’s all you want?” you asked. He hadn’t dragged you to bed once you arrived, but he also didn’t say that he didn’t want something.
He ran a thumb over your bottom lip. “Well, I won’t lie to you. I want you, but I'm not pushing you. This is the first time you came to me willingly, and I want to cherish it.”
You shivered at his touch. “Yeah, I did come here willingly,” you said. Sort of.
“And how do you feel being here compared to the first time?”
“Better,” you admitted. You weren’t completely terrified this time, and you also felt like you had some control over. Maybe not much, but some.
“Good. Now, shall we?”
You nodded and allowed Bucky to help you settle into the comfort of the pillows. He pulled you close, but it wasn’t as suffocating as it had been before. This felt more gentle. More… right.
It should’ve felt wrong.
The room was so quiet and all you could hear for a minute was the gentle sound of his breathing and his heart beating. “What's your favorite color?” you asked. “I don't think you've told me.”
You weren’t sure if you had taken the time to ask because, well, it hadn’t been a real relationship in your eyes. But you needed to know him. Call it acceptance or ammunition. Maybe both.
“Blue,” he answered, his hand absentmindedly moving along your side.
“And your birthday?”
“March 10th.”
“Wait, you're a Pisces?” you smiled a little. “That explains so much.”
He smiled down at you and chuckled. “Oh, does it now?”
You laughed lightly. “Well, yeah. I mean, you’re just… you know…” He raised an eyebrow and waited for you to finish. “Emotional.”
“I can't argue with that,” he smiled, leaning in a bit. “Does it explain anything else?”
“Well, you're…” You were a little distracted as he kept rubbing your side. “Intense. Passionate. You want to be close to the person you fall for.”
He fit that to a tee.
His darkened eyes made you lose your breath. “I can’t argue with that either,” he whispered, pulling you close without hesitation and fusing your mouths together.
Bucky held you tight and rolled you over so you were on top of him, his hands skimming your thighs as he made you straddle him. A small sound escaped when he brushed against you, your heart pounding in your ears. “Bucky-”
“Stay home with me tomorrow,” he whispered, sitting up with you in his lap still. “We don’t have to go anywhere. We can spend the whole day together.”
“No,” you said firmly. You were going out with your friends and that was final. “Send Ray or someone to watch over me. I’ll be back before you know it.”
“Please?” he asked, thrusting his hips up. “I’ll make it worth your while if you skip.”
Natasha’s words crossed your mind, reminding you that you had power. But a sinking feeling washed over you because that power had to come from your body, right? You shouldn’t be expected to give him sex, but you could give him something to hold him over. Pushing the dread away, you could hate yourself later for it. “You can spend time with me when I get back,” you offered, grinding your hips against his. “I’ll be all yours.”
The sickening feeling you expected when he moaned didn’t come. “You promise?” he murmured.
“Mmhmm,” you hummed, grinding your hips again. “You can even drop me off at Addison’s, and I’ll let you know when I get back to my place. I promise.”
“Okay, Kotyonok,” he groaned, his hands grabbing your waist. Your triumph didn’t last long. “Keep doing that and I’ll pay for all the bottles of wine you want, too.”
“You don’t have to-”
“Let me touch you. Please, just let me make you feel good,” he half begged, half demanding between kissing you again. He truly hungered for you. “I'll make you feel amazing if you just let me touch you.”
You took a deep, shaky breath. How far would he take it if he touched you? No, you had to stay in control. “You are touching me.”
“Let me take you to bed. I'll eat your pussy so good you'll cry.”
You tensed and tried to push yourself up, but he grabbed you and situated you over one of his massive thighs. He had a firm hold on you and it made your heart pound. “I don't want you to be scared. I'll take such good care of you.”
“I just… I’m not…” If he took you to bed, there’d be no turning back, and you had to maintain some control.
“You’re not ready for that,” he stated, his eyes still dark. Shaking your head, it worried you how he’d take it. But he suddenly started moving you over his thigh, hard and slow. “Okay, Kotyonok. I won't put my tongue or fingers in you just yet, but I still want to make you feel good.”
You made a small sound, trying to get your body to relax. You had never ridden anyone’s thigh before and you hadn’t pictured it like this. But the blissful look on his face, he looked like he was in heaven.
“You have no idea how beautiful you are, do you? Especially like this,” he praised.
“I…” you whimpered. “I’m not-”
“Yes, you are,” he growled, tightening his grip. “And you deserve to feel good. My girl deserves whatever she wants.”
Your hands flew to his shoulders when he flexed his thigh, sending an unexpected shock through your entire body. “Oh, my God,” you whispered before you could stop yourself.
“That felt good, right?” he asked, watching you with lidded eyes. “You want me to keep going? Make you come all over my pants?”
You whimpered when he held you still, unsure it was his dirty talk or the slight edging that had you trembling. “Bucky…”
“Tell me, Kotyonok,” he ordered, licking his lips and relaxing back into the blankets and pillows. “Tell me you want me to keep going and I will.”
You looked deep into his eyes. There was so much fire in them and it was burning for you. Your breath caught as he flexed his thigh again and you found yourself nodding. “Please, Bucky. Keep going.”
He shook his head. “That’s not what I said,” he whispered, sliding his tongue along your lips. “Tell me.”
You swallowed hard, your core throbbing. “I want you to keep going,” you breathed.
“That’s my good girl,” he praised, rocking you over his thigh again and sitting up, desperately pressing his lips to your neck. “You'll never have to beg for anything you want. Just ask or tell me and it's yours.”
Your eyes burned with unshed tears as your nails dug into his shoulders, feeling his thigh getting wetter beneath you. “Please…” you whispered, unsure of what exactly you were asking for. Mercy? To be put out of your misery? You could ask for anything except for freedom.
“Still begging when you don't have to.” He chuckled affectionately. “You’re so sweet.”
The pleasure building inside you was bittersweet. Sexual acts were, in your eyes, something to bring you closer together. What would he want next? What would you want next?
“Fucking yourself on my thigh. Wait ‘til you fuck yourself on my cock,” he gruffly spoke, your walls clenching around nothing when he lightly nipped over your pulse. “Just let go if you want. Make a mess for me.”
You were breathless from how close you were. “Do… that again,” you said, unable to let yourself feel embarrassed in the moment.
Bucky nipped your neck again and smiled when you moaned. “Fuck, that’s my beautiful girl. Doing so good for me, telling me what you want,” he said gruffly, dragging you faster along his thigh. “Now I want you to come for me.”
Your mouth fell open when he rocked you faster and bit down once more, hard enough that something inside you snapped. It didn’t just snap, you shattered. You saw stars. You couldn't stop it.
“There you go. Coming just for me,” he smiled, burying his face in your neck. “Fuck, you got my thigh all wet. Just ride it out. Good girl.”
Your face burned and you wanted to hide once you slowed down, but he wouldn’t let you when he lifted his head. He looked so happy, like a cat who got the cream. Your release dripped from your pussy and soaked your pajamas and his pants. You let him get you off.
And breathing hard, you surprised both of you by leaning in and kissing him.
He let out a deep moan, kissing you back with everything he had as he held you closer. You were still shaking from your orgasm, and you could blame that for the reason why you kissed him. And he behaved, not letting his hands wander as his tongue moved with yours.
He kept his mouth close to yours when you pulled back. The orgasm surprisingly helped you relax, but it worried you, too. Had you pushed too far with what you just did? Would he want more? You couldn’t let him in, and you weren’t ready to let yourself fall for him after everything. Not yet.
“Um, thanks,” you said, unsure of what to say to break the tension.
“Thank you,” he smiled.
His smile confused you. “But… you didn’t…” you trailed off. He was hard in his pants, and you hadn’t gotten him off. You selfishly got yourself off on his thigh with his encouragement.
“That doesn't matter,” he assured you, kissing the tip of your nose. “You trusted me enough to make you feel good.”
Your jaw dropped slightly. “But that’s… No. I…” You just wanted a bit of time with your friends, it wasn’t about trust. Was it? How could you trust this man?
He tucked your head under his chin and wrapped one of the blankets around you. “I know you're still a bit scared and you don’t want to trust me, and that’s okay. It’s scary to let someone like me in after everything.”
You shut your eyes to hold back tears. He had scared you from the moment you met, but you wouldn’t say you were completely scared of him right now. Not really. You didn’t know how you felt.
That was what scared you.
“Will someone keep an eye on my place while I’m out tomorrow?” you asked curiously, hoping the question didn't sound weird. You just didn't want Clark snooping around, and you didn't want Bucky worked up if you mentioned him.
“I have safety measures in place,” he replied. “Do you feel safe here?” he asked above a whisper.
“Yes,” you replied. You felt safe and in danger all at once. It was a strange feeling.
“Good,” he whispered. “Hey. Maybe you can spend the night tomorrow, too? We’ll do a movie night.”
“Maybe,” you whispered, your heart finally starting to slow to a steady rate. “And pizza.”
“Pizza and a movie? It’s a date,” he smiled. “We can talk about redecorating the place, too. Make it a real home for us.”
“A real home,” you whispered, knowing full well you were home for Bucky.
He rubbed your back and you noticed how relaxed he was. He was content to just hold you. Like an actual couple. Exactly what he wanted.
And if he noticed a tear streaming down your cheek when you eventually fell asleep in his arms, he thoughtfully kept that to himself.
So, that happened. It could've been... worse? He's wearing his girl down, isn't he? How are things going to be in the morning? Will he leave you be when you're with your friends? Love and thanks for reading! ❤️
Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi
#navybrat writes#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes x female reader#bucky barnes x you#bucky barnes x y/n#bucky barnes#club owner!bucky barnes#club owner!bucky barnes x reader#soft!dark bucky barnes#dark!bucky barnes#bucky barnes fanfiction#bucky barnes imagine#bucky barnes au#james buchanan barnes#james bucky barnes#sebastian stan#sebastian stan x reader#bucky x reader#bucky x female reader#bucky x you#the winter soldier#bucky fanfic#bucky imagine#bucky au#bucky barnes x f!reader#x reader#hold you tight#hyt#turn it up au#james bucky buchanan barnes
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In an ideal world, what happens is that Buck and Tommy get back together and while the both of them say that they want to take it slow and go back to learn about each other and learn how to be together again, the truth is that they’re both internally shaking like cold chihuahuas because they don’t want to take it easy, they want to be ✨unhinged✨ about each other, they want to move on, they want to get back to what they used to have - actually, better than what they used to have.
So in my head they get together, spend an entire episode trying to be cool and aloof - except that they’re both internally acting like Anna Frozen and thinking ‘I wanna marry him right the fuck now’ and we know that because they both go to Eddie at different times to say this and Eddie is probably wishing he did go back to Texas just so he doesn’t have to deal with this.
And the episode ends with them watching a movie at Tommy’s, and it’s a romance, and the movie ends with an engagement or a wedding and they’re both shaking - once again as cold chihuahuas - and Tommy is like ‘You know what, fuck this, I love you, you love me, let’s get married, fuck going slow’ and the episode ends right here.
And the next episode begins exactly as it ended with Evan looking at Tommy, happy unshed tears in his eyes, bringing him to his mouth right after whispering ‘of course’.
And then there’s the 911 intro, and the rest of the episode is Buck and Tommy being more and more unhinged about their plans until they get to the topic of best men, and they say ‘well of course i’m getting Eddie’ at the same time. And they spend the rest of the episode bickering about it and Buck getting the clipboard (though that turns out to be a bad plan because Tommy ends up fucking Buck about it) and they are basically wooing Eddie, except he doesn’t know because it’s not like they learned how to talk
And the episode ends with Eddie finally realising and going ‘fuck this I’m not gonna be a best man, I want to officiate the wedding’ and this is how neither Buck nor Tommy has to get exclusivity for their special little guy ❤️
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Hi!! I’ve been reading a few of your works and I love your writing sm!! I’ve never done a request to a writer before, so I hope I’m not too vague or ambiguous (but I’m thinking what I’m about to ask could be TOO specific 💀), but I wanted to request an NSFW writing of Choi Su-Bong (Thanos) as a sub (and if you can, could you add a thing or two about edging him and/or overstimming him?). Personally, I’d preferably have them written as headcanons BUT whatever works best for you is most important, so I won’t mind whatever you decide to do :)
And if you’re uncomfortable with the request, ofc feel free to ignore! I appreciate it in advance if you do decide to write it, and I do hope you have a lovely day ❤️❤️
you won’t ever catch me turning down a thanos request, not while i live and breathe 😈🙏
TYSM FOR YOUR KIND WORDS BTW!! hopefully i did your vision justice :>
Submissive Headcanons! (Thanos/Choi Su-Bong/Player 230)
warning: smut and all things of the like (if you’re not used to seeing this warning on my page idk what to tell you) | not proofread | lowercase intended | sub!thanos | overstimulation | edging | begging | mommy kink if you squint | these are my headcanons for this character, please be respectful even if my opinions on the character differ from your own
character: thanos/choi su-bong (player 230)
A/N: we as a squid game society need more sub!thanos content, i’m happy to contribute my fair share. idk if this is ooc or not, because honestly i can see this guy being a total switch, but do with that what you will! enjoy :3 (lowkey running out of gifs for these stinkabutts) PS this may not be a read for you if mommy kink stuff makes you uncomfortable! i have many other thanos works that don’t contain that bc i know its not everyone’s cup of tea, i just thought it fit for these specific headcanons
MDNI! 18+ content under the cut, readers discretion is advised
———‿‿ ༺ ♰ ༻ ‿‿———
➤ thanos did not strike you as the submissive type, the absolute 180 that his personality made from the public eye to the bedroom was so drastic you could have gotten whiplash
➤ he will for sure be on his knees for you, both literally and figuratively. this man will do anything you ask of him, just as long as it means he gets to please you.
➤ he’s definitely the type to beg. he’ll give you the puppy dog eyes and go the whole nine yards if you agree to let him between your legs
➤ makes the most whorish sounds when you fuck him, especially when you praise him, even if its the smallest thing. even if you say something as simple as “right there, fuck yeah” he’ll be all over that shit, thanking you for letting him please you like that
➤ speaking of his moans, he gets quite high pitched when you guys get into it. i’m not talking anything crazy, just a lot higher than what you could have been expecting.
➤ some of the things you may expect thanos to say while you guys fuck can include:
“oh god, please keep fucking my cock, just like that”
“am i making you feel good, mommy? yeah?”
will straight up just call you mommy through his whimpers and whines if he’s too far gone
➤ goes crazy when you give him hickeys or bite his neck at any point that you can, whether it be before you guys have even stripped, as your jerking him off or while your actively grinding on his dick, he can’t get enough of it
➤ cries during rough sex, no further questions
➤ needs you to be touching him at all points of the sexual journey, loves when you rest your hands on his shoulders/chest as you ride him
➤ likes getting whipped THAT DAMN WIND AGAIN—
➤ goes ballistic when you pull his hair, the slutty sounds really show up then
➤ acts like he doesn’t like being edged, but he’s a sucker for it.
“fuck please…mommy just let me cum, oh fuck”
“i’ll do anything, i just need it so bad, i wan’ it p-lease”
➤ loves when you restrain him, it can be with anything. handcuffs, rope, your own two hands, ANYTHING
➤ choke him when he’s close, better yet, choke him while you edge him.
➤ he will cry when being overstimulated (trust you guys have a safeword set in place for overstimulating, as can be said for any other experimenting)
➤ loves physical touch during aftercare, it doesn’t have to be straight up cuddling, but just you touching/caressing him in any way at all
———‿‿ ༺ ♰ ༻ ‿‿———
thanks so much for reading! as per usual, any advice/constructive criticism on how i can improve my writing is appreciated and requested!
have a fantastic night/day lovelies 💌
tags: @gongyoosgf @kvstjwonnie @pink-apples001 @fiicalapsiholoaga
#squid game#squid game 2#squid game smut#squid game x reader#x reader smut#x reader fanfiction#player 230#choi su bong#thanos x reader#imagines#headcanons
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Ahhh I’m very happy that you enjoyed the story, Toxy!🥹❤️ It’s really fun to write this horny perv and your comments are so encouraging as I’m working on part 3 rn. Thank you so much for reading and commenting, sweetheart🫂💖💖💖
A HELL OF A MORNING
Stepdad!Joel Miller x f!reader || 4,2k
part 2 of A Step Into Hell || can be read alone
Summary: Joel has his favorite thing for breakfast. His stepdaughter.
Tw: 18+ mdni, smut, step-cest, Joel’s POV, dub con but reader’s into it, big legal age gap, dark!Joel, perv!Joel, possessive!joel, f!oral, unprotected piv (wrap it up), blackmail, premature ejaculation, creampie, degradation, rough m!oral, brief choking on cock, slutshaming, praise kink, daddy kink, mention of public sex, spanking (1), cum eating, swearing. The pics are for the mood only. Reader has no specific physical descriptions. Joel can lift reader.
A/n: This mf wouldn’t leave my mind and after such a warm welcome of the first fic I’m happy to share more of his depravity with you. I hope you all will enjoy this new story❤️ A huge thank you to a lovely anon for this request and the inspo💕 Kisses to @milla-frenchy for beta-ing😘 Ilysm! Dividers by @/saradika-graphics
MASTERLIST || more of stepdad Joel || stepdad Joel drabble
There you were. Sweet thing in her little shorts and a tight top, sitting across from Joel at the breakfast table. Beautiful and hot. Just like a week ago, and a week before that. The only difference was that this morning he knew the feel of your pussy squeezing his cock, knew the taste of your soft lips, the weight of your tits in his hands. This morning you were his.
While Joel’s wife was setting the table for the three of you, you were throwing shy glances at your stepdad from time to time. Joel fucking loved it. Loved how anxious you were about what you two had done the previous night, loved how you flinched every time he spoke, scared that he’d tell the secret to your mother.
‘Honey, got news for ya. I’m fuckin your daugher. Pass the salt?’
Fuck no! He’d never do that, never ruin this thing between him and his sexy stepdaughter. Having you on a leash like that, using your holes whenever he pleased was a gift. You belonged to him and he was going to do everything to keep owning you.
Joel felt like the luckiest man on the planet when his horny thoughts were interrupted by your mom.
“My head’s killing me. I’m going back to bed,” she complained after taking a sip of her coffee and then left the two of you alone in the kitchen.
Fuck. Yeah.
Joel bricked up in a second. His cock was already throbbing in his jeans from all the memories of the previous night that had been flashing in his mind as soon as he had woken up that morning. He’d jerked off in the shower, eyes closed, head full of images of his stepdaughter, coming on his fingers, his cock, her dildo. Thanks to you, his spank bank was full for months ahead but did he even need it when he had a real thing to corrupt and fuck?
After his wife went upstairs, his stiffness began to ache in anticipation. He got a mild kick out of it because he knew that the remedy was sitting right in front of him. Tight magic hole of his stepdaughter was within arm’s reach.
What a sight you were! Eyes downcast, chest heaving, you knew damn well what was going to happen. Maybe even wished for it. Joel had no doubts what a little slut you were. Surely you were excited about a good ol’ morning fuck just like he was. And Joel was ready to oblige, storing a thick breakfast sausage for his favourite girl.
“Ya know what I always wanted to do since you moved to mine?“
A shiver seemed to run over your whole body when his voice broke the ringing silence in the room and you saw your stepdad get up and plop into a chair next to you. You smelled good, sweet and flowery, and Joel began salivating like a hungry wolf over a bunny.
You looked up at him and shook your head.
“Wanted to eat ya out,” Joel replied and poked the wooden surface of the table with his thick finger. “Right — poke— here — poke.”
His heavy gaze fixed on you, he sneered at the way you squirmed in your seat and kept pressing your naked thighs together.
Gah! The horny slut was already soaking her lil shorts.
Joel had an hour or so before his wife would wake up and he was going to use every single second to play with his stepdaughter.
“Did you like your dickin down yesterday?”
You bit your lip, eyes fixed on your lap. Then you whispered, probably scared to be heard by your mother.
“Joel. It’s so fucked up.”
“What is, sweetie?” Joel cooed, scooting closer to you with his chair. “The part where you made recordings of your stepdad fuckin your mom? Or the part where you came hard stuffed full of my dick and your pink rubber cock? Aw, look at you squirmin, ya pussy achin?” he chuckled and pressed, ”What’s exactly fucked up? Tell me.”
“All of it.” Your voice was barely heard. Poor thing must be so confused, terrified, Joel thought. He almost felt sorry for you but the lust immediately took over and he put his bear palm on your naked thigh.
“Yeah, I reckon ya right. But what’s done is done. If hell exists we’ll be there together, babydoll. So let’s have some fun when we still can, yeah?” He roughly squeezed your thigh and you shook your head, looking elsewhere but him.
“Don’t you forget, missy, you have no other choice,” Joel reminded you with a dark smile and leaned forward, his breath fanning your cheek. Your gaze snapped up to his and your pupils dilated when his face got close.
“Ya scared we’ll get caught? I get it.” Joel’s hand slithered higher, inching closer to your covered pussy. “Don’t worry. I’m always careful. If I’m fucking you, means the coast is clear. Relax and enjoy the ride, yeah? And if by some wild chance we’re caught, come up with a lie. No offense but your mom ain’t the brightest. You’d be full of my cock on the couch and she’d think we’re just cuddlin.”
Joel took a sharp breath through his teeth.
“Fuck! why do I get so hard jus’ thinkin about it? Do I want her to watch me fuck you? What do you think?”
You scrunched your pretty nose but Joel didn’t fail to notice your squirming, your glossy eyes, your hardened nipples, tenting your top. He was happy to make you crazy for his cock and his dirty talk was working. Your body was succumbing to his horny taunting, but your mind was still fighting the inevitable.
“Stop it, please,” you begged, shaking like a little chihuahua. Your fear was making you tremble, but you were needy just as much as he was. A devilish smirk twisted Joel’s face as he continued,
“Let’s watch movies together. Every few days. We'll call it ’our bondin time’. You’ll be sittin snugly next to me on the couch. I’ll play with your pussy under a blanket, uh? You’ll try not to moan like a whore.”
“She’s not that stupid, Joel.” Your gaze got fiery, tone annoyed. Joel narrowed his eyes. Were you getting angry at him for tormenting you or at your mother for keeping you from getting railed by your stepdad on every horizontal surface in the house?
Smirking, Joel leaned back and spread his thighs wider. His cock was thumping in the confines of his jeans and he began palming it to get some relief.
He was torturing himself too, turning both of you to the max with his talk, but for sure the pay off was going to be worth it.
“Yeah, maybe we shouldn’t be that ballsy,” he rubbed his scruffy cheek as he spoke, “Damn, if I could tell everyone I’m fuckin your little cunt. Dream! Using your holes in the open. You’d be cockwarming me at the first poker night I hosted.”
Joel loved when your breath hitched.
”Imagine Tommy’s face when he sees my sweet stepdaughter creamin ‘round my cock in her short skirt. I’d love to show you off, babydoll. You’re a ten.”
Your eyes clouded up, fixed on the coffee mug in front of you, and you slowly licked your lower lip. You seemed to be imagining the picture he was painting and Joel knew that you loved what you were seeing in your little cock-obsessed head.
Joel snapped his fingers and you jerked, waking up from your depraved daydreaming.
“Ya were a good girl for me yesterday but here are my rules.”
Your glossy eyes were blinking at him as you mumbled,
“Rules?”
You looked so confused like there was no thought in your pretty head whatsoever. Hell! He wanted to fuck that head.
“Yeah. My house, my rules, sweetie. First. No panties allowed. I wanna know your pussy is free to play whenever I want. And ‘s hot to know that you walk around like that.. ready for daddy to use.”
“Ohh..ok,” you looked down and he saw a little smile dance on your lips. Joel’s face got dark.
“Ya wearin any now?”
You shook your head, your head still down.
“Good girl,” Joel smirked and slapped his thigh with a palm. His chest expanded thinking you’d done it for him and then his mind short circuited.
Almost holding his breath he asked,
“Ya still leakin me?”
Your gaze darted up as you murmured, “I don’t know.”
“Check. Now.”
His tone wasn’t leaving any room for discussion so you brought your hand to your shorts. Joel couldn’t wait to see it. His hand was palming his giant hard-on which was beating hard against his thigh when he saw your hand disappear in your shorts and you moaned softly.
“Two fingers. Stretched you good yesterday. Fuck yourself a little for me. Gather everything you can.”
You locked eyes with him, gaze foggy, while your digits were working your pussy. Joel cupped your cheek and stroked your face with his calloused thumb.
“Such a good slut for daddy.”
He saw you breathing faster as your hand was picking up the pace between your legs.
“Stop! Makin you come’s my job. Pull ‘em out.”
You retrieved your fingers and you both saw them glistening in the light of the morning sun.
Joel took your hand and you gasped when he shoved your fingers into his mouth. He licked them clean, humming at the taste and smacking his lips like a fucking TV chef.
“Yeah, delicious pussy … what’s that undertone? Ah! My jizz!“
Joel’s smile was full of lust and triumph.
“Your little pussy kept some of daddy’s milk. I bet she wants me to fuck it deeper into you. But I need a better taste first. Get up.”
Joel made you stand between his spread thighs and shoot his blown eyes up at your face as his hand grabbed your pussy and he began kneading your soft mound and folds with his thick fingers. His movements were possessive, harsh, but still pleasant, judging by your expression - lips parted, eyes hazy, ready to roll back any second.
“Now the second rule. No boys in this house or anywhere else. You can fool around with your girlfriends if ya into that, I don’t give a fuck, but I don’t want any dicks around her, ya hear me? I want your pussy hungry for cock. My cock.”
Joel’s dick was unbelievably hard, trying to poke out of his jeans. ‘Fuck it! I’m in my own house. If I wanna pull the shlong out I will,” Joel thought and unzipped the fly with a carnal smile. His cock jumped out as soon as it was free and bobbed, looking engorged and ready to explode. But after tasting you, Joel craved more.
He spread his thighs wider, noticing the way you darted your eyes down to get a peek of his length.
“Miss it, babydoll? haven’t seen him all night, yeah?”
Joel pulled you closer by your hips, leaned down and pressed his nose right into your clothed mound.
You gasped and grabbed him by the shoulders, trying to steady yourself.
“What are you…?” the only thing you had time to say before a moan escaped your lips when Joel’s hot tongue licked your pussy over the thin material of your cotton shorts. They soaked in his saliva in a second and through the wet fabric he could easily feel your pulsating clit under his tongue. He was sure you felt his hot muscle there too by the way you fluttered your eyes shut and bit your lower lip.
For a few moments he kept kneading your asscheeks and licking over your shorts, soaking them and turning you on more and more.
Then your eyes snapped open and you looked at the door. Joel parted from your clothed pussy for a second to reassure you,
“Don’t worry, baby. There’s a squeaky step at the top of the stairs. I’ll know she’s comin.”
His words seemed to relax you a little and you held onto his shoulder tighter, trying to sway less under Joel’s hungry groping.
And his hunger was getting unbearable.
“Hop on the table, little slut.” Joel’s chin and mustache were glistening with his saliva. His voice was gruff and impatient. You did what he said, like a good girl, and your stepdad lifted your hips and pulled your shorts down, exposing you. In a second they were lying on the floor. The next command sounded like a growl as Joel sat closer to you in his chair.
“Feet up.”
You obediently placed your feet on the edge, hands planted behind you on the table. “Hey there, beautiful. Daddy’s ready to play.”
The sight of your cunt was driving Joel mad. Like a starving man, he buried his nose between your wet folds and took a big whiff off your drenched pussy. He’s never smelled anything hotter and groaned at the scent. You were so wet he could drink you for hours and he didn’t see any reason not to start. His hot tongue began sliding all over your cunt, gathering your slick off every crevice and fold, slurping and licking with obscene noises. Joel spread you open with his thick fingers so he wouldn’t miss a drop of your tangy nectar and his eyes were closed as he groaned against your perfect cunt.
When he opened his hazy eyes an image of you— jaw slack, chest and belly heaving, lashes fluttering- almost made him jizz all over your thighs. You looked gone, absolutely overdosed on pleasure.
Joel had to stop. The taste and the feel of your little cunt sent his cock and balls into a frenzy and he had planned to pump you full.
But when you looked at him and whispered a quiet ‘daddy, please’, his mouth as if by itself latched onto your crying pussy and he continued sucking, licking, nibbling on your folds and clit. You raked your fingers through his curls, scratched his scalp with your nails, and Joel moaned into your heat. He’s never been so horny in his life, never wanted anyone so strongly and it felt like he might have died if his balls weren’t drenched soon. His cock was leaking rivers of pre-fuck juice but Joel wanted to last, wanted to come inside you again.
“Want daddy’s tongue in your hole, baby?” Joel asked, brushing your puffy clit with his thumb and taking in the sight of you. You were longing for a release and it didn’t surprise him when you nodded eagerly.
“No, tell me. Wanna hear it.”
“Please, fuck me with your tongue, daddy,” you murmured and your blown puppy eyes and a thirsty- slut expression sent his tongue right into your flattering hole. Joel moved his head back and forth, reaching with his thick tongue as deep as it would go, lapping off your slick that was flowing out of you generously. His hands were kneading your thighs, until one snaked up to your chest and under your top. He found your soft tit and began groping and squeezing it while his tongue was thrusting into your tight hole.
Joel’s plans crushed when you started coming. Your walls began clamping on his tongue, your legs trembling, but what caused his misfire was your needy ‘daddy—daddy— ‘m coming— ahhh’. That and the sight of your face all ecstatic and sexy made him thrust his hips up, his balls drew up and his cock began spurting cum all over the place like a damn volcano. Growling and cursing through his teeth, Joel grabbed it by the base, trying to minimize the damage but all in vain. His creamy jizz landed on your thighs, your twitching clit, puffy folds, his neck, his jeans and the table. It was a fucking mess.
When Joel stopped coming, he pushed his sweaty hair back with his hand and leaned back on the chair. Panting, you placed your feet on the floor and stood up on your shaky legs in front of him. Joel’s cum was sliding down your thighs so you padded to the counter and grabbed a paper towel. You cleaned yourself up, then came back and handed some to Joel. But he kept sitting, watching you, legs spread, cock softening but still huge resting on his left thigh.
“Bad girl.”
“Hm?”
“Made me come without stickin it up your pussy.”
“I —Joel, I didn't do anything.”
“Bullshit.” He was fuming. He hadn’t busted a nut like that since he’d been a teen. Fucking embarrassing.
You needed to be punished.
“On your knees. Lick it up.”
“Joel..”
“Lick. It. Up.” His tone was cold.
He saw you swallow loudly, eyes full of fear of the steel in his voice. He didn’t pity you at that moment, his hunger for you had been temporarily satiated and everything he felt then was the desire to possess, control, bend your will to his.
The sight of you kneeling between his legs put a dark smile on his face, and when you swiped your little tongue over his hairy thigh, gathering the spilled cum, it morphed into a grin.
”Everything, babydoll,” he commanded and leaned forward to grab his mug off the table. The coffee was lukewarm but it would do, he needed to rehydrate after busting such a big load. The load you were eating off his soft cock right that moment.
”Bon appetit, little whore,” Joel gloated, sipping his drink, as you were working on cleaning him, your eyes fluttering shut from time to time. You were swallowing his jizz again and again, your tongue soft and hot, and soon Joel began enjoying not only your humiliation, but also the sensation of your gentle tongue dancing over his dick, his balls, his inner thighs.
Joel was chewing on his lower lip, eyes blown, as his cock was waking up.
You were pulling away from his hardening length but suddenly Joel‘s strong hand pushed your head down, spearing your mouth with his cock.
Joel’s fat tip hit the back of your throat and you gagged. Your nails sank into his thighs, teary eyes snapped up to his face with panic, as he was making you choke on his thick dick.
“What is it, babydoll? Ain’t used to huge shlongs, uh? ‘s ok, we’ll train ya,” he cooed, bringing the mug to his lips. He took a sip and then let you free. You coughed, wiping your chin with the back of your hand and glaring at him.
Joel put the mug back on the table and his hand, wrapped around your upper arm, pulled you up on your feet.
While you were still catching your breath, Joel manhandled you down onto his lap. You whined but didn’t fight it. The sensation of your wet pussy pressed to his crotch, your juicy naked ass on his thighs injected a new shot of arousal into his veins.
“Daddy’s back in business, sweetie. C’mon, sit on ‘im.“ Joel lifted you up slightly and then, holding his cock at the base, slid the leaking head between your soaked folds, searching for heaven.
“Bull’s eye,” he chuckled when his fat tip caught on your sloppy entrance.
“Make her eat him—bet ya pussy’s hungry — yeah—hnggg”! he grunted, feeding your cunt his dick in one go. You arched your back and softly whimpered.
“Still tight as fuck. Shit.”
You were sitting on his length fully, warm and wet, and Joel’s arms snaked around your body, caging you in, keeping you close.
“Damn, this cunt of yours… fuckin made for me… to milk my cock… to drive me crazy.”
All you could muster to reply was a moan which came out louder than Joel expected.
“Fuck,” he growled and crashed his mouth against yours, his big hand on the back of your head. You didn’t fight him, maybe it would have been hot if you’d done a little, but your submission, your desire for his cock, was feeding Joel’s ego, making him throb harder, grow faster inside you.
Kissing you, he felt your pussy thump around him, squeeze his already stiff shaft tighter with every beat of your fluttering heart.
“Ride me, ride my dick,” Joel groaned, parting from your whimpering lips, and almost choked when you began moving up and down, slowly first, helping yourself with your hands planted on his broad shoulders and then picking up the pace. His bear paws were kneading your ass, lifting you up in assistance while your walls were massaging his cock just right.
“Yeah—she’s somethin, babydoll— best pussy I had— swear—fuckin hell.”
You seemed to love bouncing on your stepdad’s dick. With sweat covering your forehead, you were glowing in the sunlight. If Joel were romantic he’d compare you to an angel. But he was a lust-driven, immoral asshole so he barked,
“Lovin it, horny slut?”
You didn’t reply, already cock dumb, too concentrated on your upcoming release. Suddenly you leaned forward and nuzzled his neck. Joel felt your tongue dance over his skin and he realized that you were licking off the cum left there.
“Good fuckin girl,” he praised you with a chuckle. “Ain’t even need to tell ya.”
Joel’s head fell back and his jaw got slack as you were kissing his jaw and neck, still riding him. When you pulled back, your lips and chin glistening, Joel dropped his head to watch your cunt swallow his shaft again and again. Your cream was gathering on the base of his cock and covering his coarse pubes.
Your movements were getting hectic, desperate, and Joel was ready to come too.
“Milk daddy again, babydoll. Make it right this time. Let me fill ‘er up.”
You pressed your body close to his with need and after moaning ’Daddy’ into the crease of his neck began shaking on his cock, squeezing it, pulsating, gripping it tight.
It sent Joel right over the edge and his dick spat a long rope of cum into your core, then another and another. He grabbed you by the waist and started moving you up and down, prolonging your orgasms, fucking his cum deeper. He wanted it inside you forever, claiming you, marking you, making you his. Joel squirted the final rope with his arms under yours, his hands pressing on your shoulders, pushing your whole body onto his cock. He emptied his balls to the last drop and you accepted his load moaning and whimpering.
Joel slouched in the chair, exhausted but satisfied, and you rested on his chest. A few moments later Joel looked at his watch and croaked, getting your attention with a light spank over your ass,
“C’mon up, sweetie. She’ll be up soon.”
Joel helped you to get up and cleaned his cum off the table with the paper towel. You weren’t helping. Standing by Joel, you looked drunk, your legs shaking. Your stepdad smirked after assessing your look and helped to put your shorts back on.
“Damn. Lookin like after a gangbang. Can you walk?”
“Yeah,” you mumbled and stumbled to the door, like a dear that recently learnt how to walk. Joel furrowed his brows. Your mom would definitely ask what had happened to you. Hopefully she wouldn’t see you sneaking up to your room.
Unfortunately, Joel’s luck ran out. He heard a squeak.
Fuck!
In three big steps Joel reached you and took you in his arms, bridal style. You gasped and wrapped your arms around his neck.
“Follow my lead,” he said under his breath and carried you out of the kitchen.
“Oh my god, what happened?!” his wife exclaimed, frozen in the middle of the stairs.
“She hit her toe, honey. Clumsy girl. Don’t worry. I’ll help her up to her bedroom.”
You were nodding, looking sad, and Joel smirked in his mind. Little slut was ready to lie.
“Is it broken?” Your mom’s voice was worried.
“No, just hurts,” you replied with a shaky voice, ”I’ll be fine.”
Joel hurriedly walked up the stairs, carrying you in his strong arms, leaving you mother behind.
”Don’t worry, honey. I’ll get her everything she needs.”
“Thank you, Joel,” he heard his wife say on her way to the kitchen. Hopefully she won’t notice the scent of sex and cum there, Joel thought.
He shut your bedroom door behind him with his foot, carried you to the bed and laid you down.
“What did I tell ya? She’ll believe anythin,” he smirked, standing by the bed, his hands on his hips.
You smiled a little and leaned against the headboard with a sigh of relief.
Joel’s gaze slid down from your tired looking face to your shorts. An idea of pushing his cum back into your soft hole with his fingers flashed in his mind. No! He needed to return to the kitchen and reassure your mother. God forbid she’d come up to check on you and notice all the cum stains on your clothes.
“We had fun, uh, beautiful?”
“Yeah,” you mumbled.
“Wasn’t talkin to you,” Joel gruffed before bending down and petting your pussy over your shorts. You scuffed and Joel barked a loud laugh.
Then he left your bedroom with a wide smile on his face and thoroughly drained balls.
Thank you for reading! Comment and reblog if you enjoyed the fic!<3
MASTERLIST || more of stepdad Joel || stepdad Joel drabble || more step family naughtiness
Tag list:@milla-frenchy @harriedandharassed @iamasaddie @nervousmumbling @bbyanarchist @stevie75 @puduvallee @auteurdelabre @mountainsandmayhem @senoratess @flamingochick55 @theoraekenslover @schnarfer @mermaidgirl30 @staywildflowahchild @yesjazzywazzylove-blog @evolnoomym @keylimebeag @joelmillerisapunk @pascaltesfaye @fruityreads @itwasntimethatdidit40
People who might be interested @toxicanonymity @she-could-never @kiwiharrykiwi @joelalorian @tateypots @magpiepills @pedroswife69 @megangovier @baroness @witchofthedeepwoods
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Eyes on the Mirror - part 1
Pairing: neighbor!Frankie Morales x f!reader Rating: +18, NSFW Words count: 2631 Summary: You're at a turning point in your relationship with Frankie, he tells you that his mother insists on meeting you. Tags/Warnings: POV second person, no use of y/n, reader wears dresses, heels and uses make-up, no other description of her is given, no mention of her skin tone and she doesn't blush, no description of her hair, Frankie can lift her but he’s a hunk of a men you know, mention of food, established relationship, enemies to lovers, smut, fluff, kissing, mention of unprotected p in v, nipples play (f receiving), oral (f receiving), fingering (f receiving), panties in mouth (don't know how it's called in English, I just know that I like it lol), Frankie is our canon PEK and also the perfect boyfriend okay, mention of being caught (well, to be more specific, to be heard lol), pet names. Let me know if I forgot something and I'll add it right away. A/N: This has been a long journey and I think it took me longer than expected. Second part is coming tomorrow. It's an emotional work, it's smut, but it's smut with feelings and I think I put a lot of myself into it. So I ask you to be especially delicate. This Frankie is the same guy from You look like a fun place to sit and Give me more Anyway, let me say a few thanks because I can't believe I had two people volunteer to be my beta, I'm very lucky. Kate @aurorawritestoescape and Ally @arcanefox207 The fact alone that you took some time to read and proofread my stuff is so important to me and you have given me so many helpful suggestions and advice, I am very grateful ❤️ Thank you Odi @joelmillerisapunk , to let me blather, to cheer me up, to always have the right words, I don't know how you do it, you're literally a gem ❤️ We’re going back to the emotional unavailable men agenda asap but for the moment I hope you’ll enjoy my lover boy neighbor!Frankie who is crazy about his girl 🥰 English is not my first language, any mistake is still on me, so if you come across one I’m very sorry. Frankie Masterlist ⎮ Masterlist ⎮ part 2
You and Frankie have been together for four months now, and you’re incredibly happy. Your neighbor, the man you spent a year hating, revealed himself as the best man you’ve ever been in a relationship with.
You haven't said “I love you” to each other yet, you're taking it slow and you're perfectly fine with that, you know you have strong feelings for him but you don't know if he's ready to say it and the last thing you want is to ruin the best relationship you've had because of words said too soon.
So you respect his timing without forcing his hand. And still you often think you don't even really need to say it, all you really want is to keep being with him, the man who can make you laugh in a second, with whom you like to do everything from the most mundane things like grocery shopping and running errands, to talking for hours and sharing everything with him, cooking, going to parties and concerts, even bickering.
And sex.
Oh, Frankie is a fucking magician.
The most shockingly fiery and at the same time sweet lover you've ever had.
You feel you can be yourself at all times with him, he knows your flaws and frailties and accepts them. And from where you were starting out it already feels like a considerable accomplishment. You never thought that the man who used to spend time judging you, once you penetrated his armor, was actually such a tolerant and nonjudgmental person.
You haven't moved in together, but you spend almost every night together, and yet, you are still trying to navigate your relationship without making the other one run off before taking the next step.
So when Frankie tells you that his mother would love to meet you, you get a little scared but you try to put on a good face.
"You really don't mind?" he prods you.
You can never hide anything from him; Frankie has an ability to read your mind, the talent that you had never found in a man.
His eyes scan you and he has a cunning little smile as he’s standing on the other side of the table, eating the eggs you prepared for him.
“Yeah, don't worry, it's okay,” you nod, your movement a little forced, and Frankie notices it.
“You're nervous, huh? Look it's normal,” he tries to reassure you, his hand slides across the table until it meets yours.
He squeezes it gently and then intertwines his fingers with yours.
“I'm sorry, she's been nagging me for at least a month now, I've managed to keep her at bay until now but she grilled me yesterday and told me that she was expecting us for dinner on Friday.”
“Yeah...I just feel a little pressure, you know, but it's okay,” you admit.
“Babe, she will like you very much, I'm sure.”
You look into his eyes, those big eyes the color of coffee and chocolate, and the comfortable glow they give off immediately takes away part of the weight you feel on your chest.
“Are you sure?” you murmur.
“Of course!” he smiles at you, ”Well, you're a little sassy but...”
You slap his hand “Frankie! You're not helping me!” you complain.
“Come on, I'm kidding. She’s going to adore you, I have no doubt about it,” he chuckles.
“Mmmm we’ll see” you still mumble with uncertainty.
"Come here," he says softly.
You get up and walk over to him before he welcomes you on his lap and you wrap your arms around his neck. He rests his forehead on yours looking into your eyes and repeats softly, “she will adore you…not as much as I do but she sure will”
The thing is this with him, he's been circling around that word for weeks, so you're pretty sure he's going to confess sooner or later.
"What if she doesn't like me?" you ask him and bite your lip, looking at him expectantly.
“Uh, I don't want to stop fucking you, you know... so, you'll have to stay in a clandestine relationship while I'm dating a woman, personally chosen by my mom.”
You kiss him, muttering “god, you're so...”
He giggles and asks "what am I like?" tightening his grip on your waist a little tighter and pulling you closer to his chest, your tits pressed against him.
“An incredibly lovely fucking bastard.”
________________________________________
You are in the kitchen preparing dinner, which in your case means putting take-out pizza on plates, as you hear Frankie come in.
“Hey, are you here?”
He gave you his keys a few weeks ago to make it easier for you to get around.
“In the kitchen!” you shout to him.
You hear his footsteps approaching from the hallway until he comes in with a bag.
“Hey, baby.”
You walk up to him to give him a kiss, he immediately puts down the bag and hugs you tightly. “mmm I missed you. What's for dinner?”
“Pizza,” you tell him smiling through your eyelashes and stealing another kiss, his beard tickling your cupid's bow pleasantly “And I was thinking about…uhm…your cock for dessert.”
He squeezes your butt, chuckling, “So eager, huh?”
“For you? Always,” you purr, looking into his eyes, veiled with desire.
His stomach grumbles slightly making you giggle, “Do you want to eat first?”
“Uh, no,” he whispers, and as he does so he slips two fingers under the straps of your dress and pulls it off, letting it slide to the floor.
You're in your panties in front of him, no bra, he looks at you spellbound with a smirk that unknowingly puckers his lips, "do you know how beautiful you are?"
His eyes move from your face down to the crease of your neck, your cleavage, your breasts, your stomach, slowly, as if he is drinking from your body, the source that keeps him alive.
He takes his time, still hasn't touched you but you'd swear you've never felt more caressed than now, nurtured, sensed, accepted in your body's every disheveled and flawed manifestation.
You could swear you could moan from that alone.
When his hands approach your hips you want them so badly that you instinctively lean into them to meet his palms, the warmth of his skin welcoming you.
You cling to his broad shoulders, bringing his body closer to yours.
He lifts you up as if you weighed nothing and lays you on the kitchen countertop, next to the sink.
Your legs hang over the edge as he commands, “open wide, baby,” and settles in between, still fully clothed.
“Frankie, please.”
“You know what I like?” he asks with a smirk, ”the way you light up as soon as I touch you. God, it drives me crazy the way you instantly become a needy little animal, you know that?"
You feel your eyes heavy and your voice shaky as you repeat his question, “You know what I like? The way you know exactly what I need.”
He smiles, leaning down to your neck to bite the soft skin over your pulse point and soothing it right after with his warm tongue.
He lowers himself onto you, leaving a trail of kisses on your beating chest, pausing on your tits and spreading his lips over your nipples, first one and then the other, caressing them with his tongue, swirling it around. You moan with each touch, tilting your head back as he sucks them harder, his beard pinching you gently, his warm lips enveloping them.
You pull his cap off and sink a hand into his dark curls.
He knows you so well, it is as if he has memorized your every little reaction and in his mind has written himself a manual on how to make you completely lose control.
He continues to work on your nipples, grazing them with his teeth, licking them up and down with his tongue, sucking them between his lips, hard and covering them with his saliva. His tongue goes around your areola, returning to your little pebble every time you pull his hair a little harder and mewl.
He suddenly leaves your tits and returns to your neck, you groan in disappointment but his tongue immediately soothes you trailing up to your jaw and licking over your lips, inviting them to open for him and dragging you in a sloppy, feral kiss that leaves you breathless.
His hips are rocking into you, brushing over your damp underwear while you wrap your legs around his waist, pushing him against your core.
His eyes are dark with lust as he moves one of his hands over your soaked underwear, brushing your folds with his knuckles, “I’m going to make you scream my name so loudly, baby”
“That’s exactly what I want,” you prod him, biting down softly on his lower lip. “Do your magic, Morales.”
You loosen the grip of your legs, gently pushing his shoulders to invite him to lower himself, and Frankie grumbles jokingly, "bossy".
He kneels in front of you holding his hands down on your back, just above your butt and pushes you toward him, you falter for a moment balancing on the edge of the counter but his grip is strong and secure.
You run a hand through his curls, tugging slightly.
He licks a strip over your panties, taking the fabric between his teeth, without stopping to look at you.
A fucking tease.
He stills for a moment and then kisses your clit.
Then he moves his flat tongue flat down, almost to your tight hole and then back up, again and again, lingering on your clit with quick flicks of his tongue.
The fabric of your panties is wet with his saliva as a new stream of pleasure floods you, soaking them even more.
“Oh fuck, yes,” you holler.
He looks at you mischievously. “Thinking about it… we should take some measures to make sure you stay quiet, honey, you know?” he nods to the half opened window right behind you.
You glance back and then blurt out, “oh, whatever, let them hear us.”
Frankie chuckles at your impatience. “Do you really want to put on a show for the whole neighborhood?”
“There are curtains, they can't see us,” you frown
“But do they need to hear us?” he says as he pulls off your panties, sliding them down your legs.
He sniffs them for a moment- “fucking sweet, darling” - while you wonder what he's going to do, then rolls them and stands back up, sneaking his hand behind your neck and looking at you authoritatively, his lips pursed in a smirk.
He runs his thumb over your mouth, stops in the center and pushes gently, silently commanding you to open it. The moment your lips part he thrusts your panties into your mouth. “That's it, good girl” he coos.
It’s so wrong, keeping your panties in your mouth like that, your tongue numbed with the taste of it and your body tense under Frankie’s gaze. But also fucking right.
He graciously holds his power over you, always considerate of your need while he plays with your mind in a delicious nasty way.
He caresses your cheek, moving down to the column of your neck, wrapping his fingers around it, “Don't try to take them out or you won't get what you want,” he gently orders. “Can you behave for me?”
You nod.
He gives you a smirk and gets back on his knees and admires your glistening pussy for a moment. “Always so fucking wet for me,” he whispers before sinking into you again, licking and sucking on your clit and down on your folds, his nose hitting your most sensitive part.
When you’re basically dripping on your inner thighs, he slides two fingers inside you, so easily moving over the spot he knows makes you see double.
His fingers are inside you up to his knuckles when he curls them, pushing and grasping.
You are thrown into a frenzy almost immediately as he gently hits you with his fingertips again and again, sucking avidly on your clit as you’re stifling your moans by clenching your teeth on your panties.
He laps at your folds so thoroughly, then goes back on your bundle of nerves, sloppy wet noises fill the air mixing with your gasps as he scissors and pushes into you.
He hums against you, whines evenly, you watch him through your eyelashes as he palms himself from above his jeans, seeking some relief.
He doesn’t stop until he feels your legs shake and your stifled mewls trying desperately to get out of your throat.
Your orgasm crushes over you like a wave, leaving you quivering and breathless.
He gets back up and removes the panties from your mouth, kissing you with his mouth still smeared with your essence.
“You’ve been so good, baby.”
You pull him by his shirt protesting, "You haven't got anything yet, though.”
“That’s not a problem, hun, we can eat something and then you’ll eat me. Dessert, remember?”
You giggle “deal.”
You steal another kiss from him before slipping your dress back on and setting the table.
As you eat you notice the bag he left in a corner by the kitchen door.
“What is that?” you ask, raising an eyebrow.
"Oh, I almost forgot, it's a gift for you."
You squint your eyes “For me? You didn't have to!”
Frankie smiles “I saw it in a store and thought of you. Open it.”
You get up and go for the bag, not before giving him a kiss.
When you open the bag you find a dress.
Very simple, black, not too low-cut, with a tulip skirt.
As you're looking at it, leaning it over your body to see the length, Frankie suggests that you could wear it to his mother's.
____________________________________________
“Are you ready, honey?”
Frankie's voice is muffled by the bathroom door as you're finishing putting on your lipstick.
“Almost, you just need to help me with the zipper.”
Frankie opens the door and peeps into the bathroom.
He stops behind you, admiring you in the mirror as you stand there with your lips parted, leaning slightly over the sink, your legs slender from your heels, you wear the dress he bought you, unzipped at the back.
“Jesus, you’re a vision,” he breathes. “Maybe we should skip dinner at my mom’s.”
He approaches you and settles his big hands firmly on your hips.
“Come on, Frankie, be serious,” you giggle.
“I'm serious,” he replies in a rough, deep voice.
He leans down to leave a trail of kisses down the exposed skin on your back, his soft lips send shivers down your spine and you are almost on the verge of giving in.
You set your lipstick down on the sink countertop and turn to look at him pouting
"You can't do this to me now, you know we can't skip it.”
“Well, it might help you relax though,” he continues to flirt, his lips curved into a little smile.
You’d fall for it any other day but not now that you’re trying to figure out how to impress someone you don’t even know.
Frankie told you something about his mom, how protective she is and overall pretty conservative, you’re the exact opposite.
You don’t know why he stays so positive about the dinner, you’re pretty sure she will hate you.
One look from you is enough to let him know how nervous you are.
Frankie leaves a light kiss on your shoulders and says. "Okay, I'll behave, turn around."
He pulls up his zipper looking at you in the mirror, “Anyway, I wasn’t lying, you look really beautiful.”
You smile softly, feeling your heart fluttering.
general tag list: @baronessvonglitter , @milla-frenchy , @thundermartini , @harriedandharassed , @almostempty let me know if you want to be added or removed and I’ll do it right away. Thank you so much for reading!
#pedro pascal#frankie morales smut#frankie catfish morales#frankie morales x f!reader#neighbor!au#neighbor!frankie morales x f!reader#ppcu#pedro pascal characters#pedro pascal characters fanfiction
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Seeing Stars 3
Warnings: non/dubcon and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.
My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.
Character: Steve Rogers, Bucky Barnes
Summary: You struggle to be star struck by the world’s most famous super soldiers. (grumpy!short!reader)
Note: Guess this is happening.
As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️
"I can't believe you won," Bonita chimes.
"Uh, yeah, I told you to just claim the prize," you mutter.
"And I told you," she pulls you off the subway, "it has to be the ticket holder."
"Right. You could say you're me."
"Didn't you read the email?" She huffs as you drag your feet behind her. You hate Manhattan.
"I skimmed."
"They have to check ID at the door. As your plus one, I had to submit a bunch of stuff. Didn't you?" She hooks her arm through yours as she urges you through the New York rush.
You grumble. It's like the universe is laughing in your face. Or hers. It should've been her prize. She's the one who likes all that stuff. As much as you don't want to spit in her face, you're not very happy to spend a rare day off somewhere you don't want to be.
You're a good friend. That's why you're doing this. That's it. You'll get through it for her. In spite of her.
You find her waiting where she promised. She's taking selfies right outside the doors of Stark Tower, unbothered by those passing by. You nudge her and hiss, "you're in the way."
"About time. You're almost late." She lowers her phone and bats her fake eye lashes at her. Oh, she went all out. You thought the sweater and jeans was a fine choice.
"Almost, but I'm not," you chirp.
"Lighten up! This is going to be the greatest days of our lives," she squeals and claps, sending her phone to the ground. You let a sigh out quietly. She's so happy. You'll keep the snide remarks to yourself.
You bend to pick up her phone and hand it over. She snatches it and giggles, "I wonder if I could livestream the tour."
"Just... enjoy it," you utter. You don't need her holding up her phone like a tourist. No shame, you swear.
"Woah, hey," you stumble as someone clamours into you. "Sorry, I didn't see you there. Guess I should've looked down."
The man's hands cling to your arms as he keeps you on your feet. You pull away and spin to face him. Bonita makes an inhuman noise.
It's him. Steve Rogers. Again.
"You guys lost?" He asks.
You look at Bonita. She vibrates with excitement, "um, we won! Er. Oh! We're here because we won the tour and you're supposed to be there and all the others and--"
"Ha, yes, I am running behind." He says, “uh, I guess you can come in with me.”
“Oh wow,” Bonita exclaims. “Thanks so much, Captain. I mean Mr. Rogers. No. Er...”
“Steve’s fine,” he chuckles. “So, you two were at the convention?”
“Yes, we got a photo,” she affirms.
He opens the door and waves you ahead of him. You wait for Bonita to take the lead. You reluctantly follow as Steve tails you.
“I thought you were familiar.”
“Oh, no, you must meet so many people,” Bonita slows so that he can catch up and you sidle around them, happy enough to take the rear.
“Eh, yeah, it can get a bit much.”
“Sounds miserable,” you mutter, then cringe as you remember his super hearing. Oops.
“I’m sure the rest are waiting,” he stops at a door and puts in a number on the keypad. It flashes red and buzzes. “Ugh, I always forget.” Instead, he moves to look into the dark lens higher up. An ultraviolet flare runs over his eye and the door unlocks. “I can doing that.”
He opens the door again, a gentleman straight out of the 40s. Once more, you are stuck between the two of them. He points you down the hall to a private elevator. You get on.
You bob impatiently as Bonita inserts herself between you and Steve. You stare at the reflective doors and let your vision blur.
“So, um, is the shield here?” She asks. “Not to be lame or anything.”
“Oh, sure, maybe you could see some of the prototype suits? I think there’s still a few hanging around,” Steve answers.
“That’s so cool,” she chimes.
You struggle not to roll your eyes. Instead, you focus and find another pair observing you in the mirrored surface before you. You quickly glance away from Steve’s gaze.
Finally, your floor comes. You assume since the doors ding and Steve steps ahead of you. You follow him out into a spacious room. You can tell by the windows alone that it’s the very top of tower.
“There you are, Capsicle,” someone calls over.
You turn in the direction of the voice as Bonita grabs your arm and points at the dark-haired man. You know who he is. He’s on too many magazine covers and blogs not to. Tony Stark. He stands amid the group of his fellow avengers.
“I found our lucky winners,” Steve says.
“Bonita, and er, well, she won,” she pokes you as she introduces you. “Erm, we’re super excited.”
You stare dully. You want to lie, for her. You do your best; a nod.
“I remember you two,” Bucky’s voice surprises you. It’s only then you notice him sitting away from the rest of them, lazily flipping a knife. “You had a photo.”
“Yes, that’s us!” Bonita blusters.
“Well, ladies, welcome to the tower, these are the big boys... and girls.” Stark steps in front of the rest, “you’ve met Steverino here, and apparently his sidekick, The Raven.” Bucky scoffs as he stands and sheaths the knife. “Not to be cocky but I assume you know the rest of us.”
“I do!” Bonita declares, “but er...” she looks at you. You half-nod and half-shrug. “It’s Tony Stark!”
“I know that.”
“Who doesn’t?” He winks.
You grumble and his chin tilts slightly in affront.
“That’s Thor! And Black Widow and Scarlet Witch, and Vision, and Hawkeye, and Hulk...” she goes down the list as you lose track and a little bit of interest. It’s your turn in Scrabble, you feel the notification buzz in your pocket.
“What? Were you caught in the ice with this one?” Stark jabs Steve with a snicker. “You don’t know the world’s greatest heroes?”
You stare back at him. “Nice tower, I guess.”
“Ice cold,” he whistles, “I’ll leave this one to you, Vis. She’s about your speed,” he turns and struts away.
“It’s your tour,” the woman with the short red bob says; the widow?
“Contractual obligation but far from my idea,” he counters. “Hey, Banner, how about you take the lead. PhD or whatnot, I’m sure you give a hell of a lecture.”
“We can go.” You offer and Bonita elbows you.
“Don’t listen to him,” Steve insists, “we’re all going on the tour. Right, Tony?”
“Hm, let me grab a whiskey first.”
#steve rogers#bucky barnes#dark steve rogers#dark bucky barnes#dark!steve rogers#dark!bucky barnes#bucky barnes x reader#steve rogers x reader#series#drabble#seeing stars#au#marvel#mcu#avengers#captain america#winter soldier
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Headcanons for Movie universe Maria if she got to meet Sonic, Tails, and Knuckles
Hi Honey!❤️✨
I’m more than happy to make some headcanons for you!
If Maria were alive, she would be the one to coin the term “Fluffer Pupper” as I do with the Fluffer Puppers
Knuckles first thought that Maria was Shadow sister until he saw the sibling-like relationship that the two had.
Maria would definitely scoop up all of the Wachowski brothers into a hug and thank them for being nice to her brother. Shadow stands off to the side looking a bit embarrassed and tries to not show his pink cheeks.
The first person that Maria hugged was Tails. I mean… come on! He’s cute and fluffy!
Maria would get a kick out of modern day music and take all four of the boys with her to rock concerts. Shadow hates the loud noise, but wears ear plugs to enjoy the moment with them.
Maria teaches them classic rock and music from her time period while the boys get her interested in modern music. Maria is amazed with how much music has progressed from the 1970’s.
Maria insists on teaching Sonic how to rollerblade. At first Sonic thought it was easy until he spent the entire time latched onto her arm.
Maria would bond with Tails right away and beg to fly in the air. They’re usually gone for hours each day touring the country and flying over tree tops.
Tom and Maddie make sure to give her many hugs and thank her to be a good friend and role model for Shadow.
At first Shadow was very nervous about Maria meeting others like him, and meeting Sonic and co in general. But he says how happy to meet her and genuinely want to know more about her.
Maria tries to arm wrestle Knuckles to prove that she’s just as strong as him. Knuckles purposely lost because he admires her optimism.
The boys invite JoJo over for her to meet Shadow’s sister. Jojo and Maria spend hours talking about how cool the boys are and how grateful they are for their friendship and family.
The five like to go on adventures around the world. There is a lot that Maria wished to see in life and the boys desire to make sure that she gets to visit her destinations of choice.
Maria and the boys have built a blanket fort in the living room and defend it due to hiding the Master Emerald there. It’s called “Fort Kick Ass.”
Maria sits each of the boys down and thanks them all for being so compassionate and caring for Shadow. She appreciates each of them for being patient with him and for giving him a chance to be a teen like them.
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Eyes on the mirror - part 2.
Pairing: neighbor!Frankie Morales x f!reader Rating: +18, NSFW Words count: 3814 Summary: Dinner at Frankie's mom's is a disaster, she doesn't like you at all but her son doesn't fail to show you how much he likes you instead. Tags/Warnings: POV second person, no use of y/n, reader wears a dress and heels, she has hair but it's described, no mention of her skin tone, she doesn't blush, she understands Spanish (but I didn't write sentences in Spanish because I don't know how to do it and I don't want to do it badly when I'm already writing in a language that is not my native), Frankie's mom is pretty conservative, traditionalist and closed-minded and she's mean towards reader, unprotected p in v (do better irl, please), sex in front of a mirror, oral (m receiving), Frankie is a good man ❤︎ and we love that for him. A/N: It's an emotional work, it's smut, but it's smut with feelings and I think I put a lot of myself into it. So I ask you to be especially delicate. This Frankie is the same guy from You look like a fun place to sit and Give me more. Thanks again @aurorawritestoescape and @arcanefox207 for your precious help and advices ❤️ I made a few changes from the first draft, English is not my first language, any mistake is still on me, so if you come across one I’m very sorry. @joelmillerisapunk just 🥹🥹🥹💖 Part 1 ⎮ Frankie Masterlist ⎮ Masterlist
Frankie's mom has the same eyes as her son, brown, big and deep, but there is a sharpness in them that does not belong to Frankie's.
She has a simple, well-groomed appearance, wearing a white tunic dress that comes down to her knee, her hands are slightly cracked but her manicured nails are painted a pearly pink.
She is a short, thin woman with the haughty, imperious appearance of someone who doesn’t let anyone step on her toes, a woman ready to bargain, to work hard, to take care of an entire household without anyone's help.
She's a tough lady and you're pretty sure she hates your guts.
She addresses you rather nicely but you can tell something is wrong.
Her tone of voice sounds mocking and she's constantly whispering things to Frankie in Spanish that you don't hear well but you're pretty sure aren't anything nice.
“So what do you do, dear?” she asks you with a forced smile, sitting at the head of the table as she has arranged you and Frankie facing each other.
“I…um…work in a graphic design studio,” you mutter.
Frankie quickly adds, “She's so good at her job!”
The way he’s trying to enhance your skills since you arrived moves you, but his mom doesn’t seem impressed.
Mrs Morales is intimidating, staring at you like she’s trying to catch every single flaw you have.
You can't even use your usual sarcasm because she would surely think you were insolent and certainly not right for his son.
“Have you done anything that I might have seen? Any national commercials?” she prods.
“Um, I don't think so, we're a pretty small studio at the moment, we've mostly worked on graphics for local stores and websites for professionals here, you know.”
“Oh.” She raises her eyebrow. ”I see.”
Trying to compliment her, you say the food is delicious, the best you've ever eaten, and she reserves a cold “thank you”
Then she presses you again, “Can you cook?”
You lower your gaze to your plate and admit, “no, actually, I'm not very good at cooking.”
“What do you usually eat?” she asks suspiciously.
"Um...well...I can cook pasta and eggs..." you try to say and she looks at you in shock as if you just said donkeys can fly.
“Mom, please” Frankie tries to calm her down and she hisses at him “she will starve you!”
He hisses in turn “I am not perished! And she’s adorable, she’s smart, kind, funny and beautiful”
You feel Frankie's sorry look comforting you from across the table, he's doing what he can and you are truly grateful, but right now there’s nothing that can make you feel happy to be here.
You don't want to fight with her because you love Frankie and you know he loves his mother, you don't want to lose him because of scowling at her.
You see her giggling and shaking her head and you feel like crying but you don't, you don't want her to add ‘pathetic’ as one of your flaws.
She turns to Frankie and says something like, “How can you be with someone like that?” in Spanish.
Frankie leans over the table and reprimands her, “Mom, stop it.”
She responds irritated in Spanish, “why? She is no good at cooking, and that job? Tsk, you don't want to marry her, do you?”
Frankie rolls his eyes and hisses, “Mom!”
You understand Spanish just fine but all this whispering is putting a strain on you, you just want her to see how much you care about Frankie and for her to like something about you.
Even the dress didn't have the effect you had hoped for, she looked down on you even though her son had chosen it.
You brought her flowers and a cake to be nice and she huffed about the flowers because she would have to find a suitable vase to put them in and as for the cake, you bought it, so obviously it’s another proof of your failures in the culinary field.
She waves her hand at Frankie to shush him and turns back to you.
“Do you want anything else, sweetheart?” nodding at the serving dishes in the center of the table with another fake smile.
Your stomach churns and you respond politely that you are full.
She turns back to Frankie, squinting her eyes, "she won't even eat! how is she going to give me grandchildren?!”
You look at your hands resting on your lap, feeling lousy and tired.
Frankie must see this clearly because he finally blurts out, “Mom, if you don't stop now, we're leaving! She has done nothing wrong to you to be treated like this”
Mrs. Morales brings a hand to her chest, a shocked grimace is painted on her face.
“How dare you address your mother like that! I'm just trying to protect you, she's clearly not good for you!” She no longer even bothers to say it whispering in Spanish so that you wouldn't understand, in fact you think she said it loud and in English precisely so that her disappointment would be clear to you.
You get up while they are still busy arguing and lock yourself in the bathroom.
You knew this evening would be a disaster, but you hoped so hard that you were wrong.
You’re glad Frankie stood up for you but you never wanted him to fight with his mother because of you.
You hear their angry voices in the distance as they continue to argue and you feel so guilty.
You sit on the floor on the turquoise tiles in Mrs. Morales' bathroom, thinking only about how much you want to get out of here.
After a few minutes you hear a knock on the door.
“Honey, open up, it's me” You get up and reluctantly open the door.
“Hey, come here” Frankie says to you as soon as he sees your eyes on to the brink of tears.
He closes the door behind him and takes you in his arms, holding you tightly.
You hide your face in his chest, letting the soothing warmth of his body envelop you.
He strokes your back and whispers, “I'm so sorry, you don't deserve any of this.”
“I wanted her to like me so much,” you sob.
“I know, honey, it's not your fault. She is fixated on things I don't care about. But you don't have to worry, everything will be fine.”
You pull away from him “I don't want you to fight over me”
"She can’t treat you like that, I'm the one who wants to be with you, and I like you the way you are.”
“Yeah, but…it’s still your mum,” you murmur.
“I gave her a little speech, don’t worry, you’ll be fine now,”
Frankie smiles, leaving a kiss on your forehead and caressing your cheek, wiping away your tears. “Don’t cry.”
“What did you say to her? You didn't threaten her not to visit again, did you?” you ask worriedly. His eyes become a little shy, he’s quiet for a moment and then whispers to you, “no, I didn't tell her that.”
“What then?” his enigmatic expression that doesn't let anything out intrigues and agitates you.
He looks straight into your eyes and candidly admits, "I told her that I love you."
You've felt it in the air for some time but now that you've heard it come out of his mouth, plain and simple, you are stunned.
“Do you mean it?” You ask in a low shaking voice, looking into his big brown eyes for evidence of his sincerity.
"I've never been so serious, miss," he smiles at you, expectantly.
And then you feel you can say it, no matter how scary it is for you, “I love you too.”
It doesn't seem real to you that you have just made yourself so vulnerable in front of him, your neighbor who until a few months ago was bothering you while now you feel you have a total and deep connection with him, no matter how much you poke and bicker at each other, your heart sings every time you are with him and you feel it loud and clear in your chest as it skips a beat every time Frankie looks at you a certain way, smiling with his eyes, with those little wrinkles around them and that dimple on his cheek that you adore.
You love the way he mumbles in the morning as soon as he wakes up, the way he stretches under the covers and then again as soon as he gets up, his golden skin under the morning light, his playfully mischievous eyes that settle on you while you're still lying down trying to wake up, the way he always leans down to give you a kiss, whispering, “Good morning, princess.”
You also love how he keeps that silly little cap glued to his head at every opportunity.
You like kissing him and feeling his lips tasting like coffee, you like the way he hugs you as if he wants to shield you with his body and protect you from the world, you like the way his eyes become attentive and receptive when they rest on you and the way he listens to you, remaining silent and caressing your hand as if to invite you to tell him anything that is on your mind.
You love how loyal he is to his friends, how he takes care of people, you love when he tries to make you breakfast even though he leaves a mess in your kitchen as if a barbarian invasion passed through.
And you love him now, standing in his mother's bathroom, hugging you as if only you existed in the world.
“I love you,” you repeat and he looks at your face as if he wants to study the map of how much you truly care about him on it.
His hands slide down your back to your butt and he pushes you hard against him without breaking eye contact.
His eyes are dark, his pupils dilated, he squeezes your butt tightly and then kisses you.
You know exactly what he wants and you whisper into his mouth as soon as you break away from the passionate, deep kiss in which he engulfed you, “Not here, come on, take me home.”
He turns to the door and locks it still holding you close.
“Let it go, baby, it’s okay” he replies and winks at you.
Feeling so desired by him is a real relief after feeling stupid and unfitting all night.
He turns you to the large mirror above the sink, leans to your ear and whispers, “Look at yourself.”
His hands move up your back, reach for the zipper of your dress, and begin to pull it down.
You look at him and he rebukes you, “eyes on the mirror, honey. Watch yourself while I do it.”
He slides off your dress breathing on your skin while you keep your eyes fixed on the mirror.
You remain in your bra and panties.
He brushes against your skin, rising on your arms only with his fingertips, climbing up your shoulders, your collarbone, the point where your shoulders and your neck meet and up to the column of your neck until he reaches your jaw. He tilts your head a bit and holds your chin to make sure you’re going to watch the entire time.
He holds you so that you can lean against him, and with his other hand he reaches down to your stomach, touching the hem of your panties.
You sigh happily as he slides two fingers under the fabric and caresses your folds, slides down the sides to the bottom and pushes upward.
You moan softly, “Frankie, please”
“Don’t be impatient, babe” he reprimands.
He curls your panties between his fingers and starts brushing them over your folds, you whine at the sensation as he tilts your head down a little bit to make sure you’re seeing what he’s doing. However you would not be able to watch anything but his movements. Right, left, right, left Frankie's fingers expertly maneuver the fabric over your pussy.
Your inhibitions are long gone, everything is faded and far away.
There is only you and Frankie.
He suddenly lets go of your panties and massages you over them, soaking the material in your juices. You’re so wet that it doesn’t take much for his fingers to get wet too.
Your breath becomes shallow as his hand slithers under the fabric and he begins circling your clit.
You can already feel your legs going weak so you raise your arm and place your hand behind his neck to keep yourself more stable against him.
“Yeah, just like that honey. You want me to make you feel real good, huh?” Frankie’s voice vibrates against your neck and you mewl a yes feeling your body mold for him.
Your eyes are fixed on the mirror.
You see your hot and bothered face, your lips parted, your pleading eyes and your body impossibly tense against him.
It’s all painted there, the amount of desire and hunger that you have for him, a grimace of lust and need spread out on your features.
“Fuck me,” you babble.
“Yeah? You want my big cock inside, baby? Want me to fill you to the brim?” Frankie’s smirk is wide on his face, you see his eyes focused on you, and his commanding tone sends shivers down your spine as he doesn’t stop rubbing on your clit.
“Yes” you breathe “please”
Your legs wobble as you try to stand on your feet while he undresses.
His shirt falls on his mother’s bathroom tiles, he unbuckles his belt and places it on the countertop, he kicks off his boots, unbuttons his jeans and slides them down his legs, stamping on them to get them off his feet.
Through the mirror you see him standing behind you, wearing only his boxers, the muscles of his chest highlighted by the lights, his soft belly just above his boxers that makes your mouth water, the happy trail that goes to hide inside, his strong thighs and the imperious erection that grows between them.
It's a perfect picture of everything that makes your head spin.
“On your knees, baby, I want to feel your mouth first,” he orders you.
You immediately kneel, feeling your heart flutter in your chest, the coolness of the tiles on your shins, and his simmering gaze dominating you from above.
You caress his hips, pulling down his boxers, and taking them off, and his cock finally springs free and almost smacks your face towering before your eyes.
You take him in your hand, feeling that familiar warmth, the softness of his skin, the pulsing of his veins, as he leaks pre cum within an inch of your lips.
As soon as it slips on your tongue you feel a new slick of arousal dripping on your panties.
You lace your gaze with his, your open mouth curved at the edges in a smirk as you let him in, you love doing this to him.
You usually take in as much as you can while taking care of the rest with your hand but tonight you want to feel it all the way down, so you relax your throat as much as you can and keep sliding it until you feel the tip touch the bottom.
You have a slight hint of a gag reflex that you manage to quell right away and you keep him there, nestled inside you, pulsing on your tongue as he looks at you raptly and whispers, “God, you're amazing.”
And then you begin to suck him, slowly, enjoying every moan and every involuntary twitch of his hips, cocooning him with your tongue.
You’re fully immersed in the act, intent on giving him all the lustful pleasure you can, licking his tip like a lollipop, swirling your tongue around and collecting his oozing pre cum.
And then you go down again, spreading it on his shaft, mixing it with your saliva, hollowing your cheeks to suck him as deep as you can.
Frankie is whimpering and you know how much he’s close to the edge.
Your hand caresses his base, then you move it to his balls, with every intention of getting him to finish in your mouth and swallow everything he gives you but he grabs your wrist, stopping you.
You let him out with a pop, passing the tip over your lips and smacking it against them twice, wetting them with his pleasure.
You give him a mock pout for stopping you but the truth is you can't wait to feel him split you in two.
He smiles at you, taking your hand and helping you up, you give him a kiss with your mouth still smeared with him.
He turns you back towards the mirror and gently orders, “bend over the sink”
He slides your panties down your legs, exposing your drenched pussy, bending down to admire it, “So fucking wet…it’s all for me, baby?”
“Just for you, always,” you turn to look at him and see him leaning behind you as he reaches down and licks your folds, a long deep lick that makes you gasp.
“So good, honey, I would never get tired of this perfect pussy.” His voice vibrates on your skin sending a thrill all over your body. “It’s the only part of you that I like to see weep for me”
His rough voice charged with ardor and his words send you into a frenzy.
He comes back to stand behind you and looks at you in the mirror, resting his large hands on your hips, “You are so fucking beautiful like this.”
You feel his cock rub against your folds, and you throb intensely overwhelmed by your craving, you mewl at him and he finally aligns with your entrance and starts to push in.
You slowly stretch around him, he groans as he slides into you, every inch of his length parting your walls.
His hands still clasp your hips, holding you steady as he gives you a moment to adjust.
You're full of him and you wouldn't want to be any other way.
Frankie holds you firmly as he sinks into you, slowly at first and then increasing the pace as your moans grow rougher and closer, his balls slamming against your ass in a feverish rush.
“Fuck, baby, you’re squeezing my cock so hard.”
He pulls you toward him, his fingers reaching for your nipples, tweaking and tugging.
You can't help but look in the mirror now and what you see is the most exciting sight you've ever had before your eyes.
Your body is completely surrendered to him, your skin glistening with tiny droplets of sweat, your hair disheveled, your expression ecstatic, Frankie's hands firmly clinging to your hips as the wet, squelching sounds of his cock pounding incessantly in your cunt fill the room along with your moans and Frankie's groans.
And Frankie is literally a dream, his broad figure towering over you, his mouth roaming your neck, his hands enveloping your tits, squeezing them so right.
He’s completely lost in you, his eyes half-closed, his tongue darting out from time to time soothing your sweaty skin.
Now you know that you have never experienced such strong feelings in your life.
You thought so, but you were wrong.
It’s not the usual cliché of feeling complete with someone else, you are already a whole.
It’s the fact of knowing that you can share with him, that you do not have to be afraid to be who you are with him. It is the fact that he knows how to understand the workings of your brain and unravel the skein that tangles it. It is the fact that you can feel that there is nothing you cannot face together. It is the fact of feeling seen, perceived for who you really are and held close for it.
It's knowing that wherever you run, Frankie will pick up the crumbs you leave on the road and bring them back to you.
And you had no idea that it could really be like this.
You always thought, it's only 4 months, don't push it when in the meantime he proceeded to tiptoe into your heart without even being noticed and sat there, waiting for both of you to be ready to say the most terrifying words out loud.
Not "I need you" but "I'm so damn happy you're here", not "you're mine" but "I love holding your hand as I navigate my life.”
Not by owning, but by letting you do your own thing while you look at each other and think, “this is the person I love and I am proud of them.”
You're just out there being the most fragile human sometimes but you're never afraid to break down next to him.
Frankie comes, dripping onto your walls, his orgasm and whimpers shuddering against your body.
He wraps one of his big, strong arms around your hips and holds you up against him.
And you're safe, really safe, being vulnerable in front of a mirror, watching yourself come apart for him, feeling every inch of your body catching fire while Frankie is the match and the water at the same time.
He holds you tight until you both recover normal breathing, still nestled inside you.
He pulls out and embraces you, leaving small kisses on the soft skin near your ear, his large hands caressing your back.
“I love you so much” he whispers once you make eye contact again.
“I love you too, Morales” you smile, tracing his cheek with your fingertips.
You both get dressed and leave the bathroom.
You walk down the hallway leading to the living area as you wonder how much his mother heard. You cannot even quantify how long you were locked in the bathroom but it was worth every second.
You find her in the living room, watching TV with the volume on full blast.
Frankie approaches his mother, without saying anything, rests his hand on hers while she has her eyes fixed on the telenovela you watched with your granny.
“Do you think Javier will finally be able to confess his feelings to Lola?” you ask quietly.
She turns, just for a moment, and finally gives you a genuine smile.
For the first time you feel that maybe, after all, despite the way you and her son just desecrated her bathroom, all is not lost.
general tag list: @baronessvonglitter , @milla-frenchy , @almostempty , @harriedandharassed , @thundermartini If you want to be added or removed just let me know, thank you so much for reading!
#frankie catfish morales#frankie morales x f!reader#frankie morales#frankie morales x female reader#pedro pascal#pedro pascal characters fanfiction#ppcu fanfiction#ppcu
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Please give a crash course on everything F1 because I’m so curious and I want to understand your posts but the full extent of my knowledge is that the “F” stands for Formula.
I am so sorry that it took me so long to reply
(love the crash course pun, I'm always happy to infodump about f1)
F1 is a motor racing series. It's the highest class for international open wheel single seater racing, and it's governed by the FIA (you'll find out that I don't like the FIA very much. I think its corrupt).
In f1, there are 10 teams with two drivers each. Each team tries to build the fastest car within a set of regulations. Said cars are marvels of engineering.
Teams and drivers 2025:
Red Bull
Engines: Honda RBPT
Race drivers:
Max Verstappen: Career number: 33 Country: Netherlands
Liam Lawson: Career number: 30 Country: New Zealand
Mercedes
Engines: Mercedes
Race drivers:
George Russell: Career number: 63 Country: United Kingdom
Andrea Kimi Antonelli: Career number: 12 Country: Italy
Other drivers: Valtteri Bottas (Third)
Ferrari
Engines: Ferrari
Race drivers:
Charles Leclerc: Career number: 16 Country: Monaco
Lewis Hamilton (omg it's happening): Career number: 44 Country: United Kingdom
McLaren
Engines: Mercedes
Race drivers:
Lando Norris: Career number: 4 Country: United Kingdom
Oscar Piastri: Career number: 81 Country: Australia
Aston Martin
Engines: Mercedes
Race drivers:
Fernando Alonso: Career number: 14 Country: Spain
Lance Stroll: Career number: 18 Country: Canada
Alpine
Engines: Renault
Race drivers:
Pierre Gasly: Career number: 10 Country: France
Jack Doohan: Career number: 7 Country: Australia
Other drivers: Paul Aron (Reserve)Ryo Hirakawa (Reserve)2025 (Reserve)
Williams
Engines: Mercedes
Race drivers:
Alexander Albon: Career number: 23 Country: Thailand
Carlos Sainz Jnr: Career number: 55 Country: Spain
Racing Bulls
Engines: Honda RBPT
Race Drivers:
Yuki Tsunoda: Career number: 22 Country: Japan
Isack Hadjar: Career number: TBC Country: France
Sauber
Engines: Ferrari
Race drivers:
Nico Hulkenberg: Career number: 27 Country: Germany
Gabriel Bortoleto: Career number: 5 Country: Brazil
Haas
Engines: Ferrari
Race drivers:
Oliver Bearman: Career number: 87 Country: United Kingdom
Esteban Ocon (❤️): Career number: 31 Country: France
There are two championships, the wdc, won by individual drivers, and the wcc, won by the team. Championship points are accumulated by finishing high in grand prix races. Points are awarded to top 10 finishers:
The typical layout of a grand prix weekend is this:
Friday:
Fp1 (stands for final practice one. It's for experimenting with setups, tires and strategies)
Fp2
Saturday:
Fp3 (after this cars are in parc ferme. You cannot change the setup of the car in parc ferme)
qualifying:
Q1 (first stage of qualifying. The five drivers with the slowest lap times around the circuit are eliminated)
Q2 (the next 5 slowest drivera are eliminated)
Q3 (shootout for pole position, which is the number one spot on the starting grid)
sunday:
Grand prix time baby! (The main race. The starting order is that as determined by qualifying+ penalties. Points are awarded to the top 10 finishers and tire compound must be changed at least once)
Sprint weekend:
Friday:
fp1
sprint qualifying (qualifying for the sprint race)
Saturday:
sprint race (shortened race. Points awarded to top 8 finishers. No obligation to change tires)
Regular qualifying
Sunday:
grand prix
Tires:
Tires in f1 are provided by pirelli. There are 5 dry compounds:
the C1 is the hardest compound, best for long runs as it's long lasting but comparatively slow. The C5 is the softest, best for qualifying as it's fast but degrades quickly
There are 3 of these compounds used per weekend. The quickest are the sofas, the slowest are the hards and the balanced options are the mediums.
Wet weather tires:
Wet tires have a blue stripe and are rarely used as they are for extreme wet weather that normally warrants a safety car
Intermediate tyres are commonly used for wet races. They are theoretically between slick tyres (dry weather tyres) and full wets
flags in f1:
(ATP I'm too tired to give my own explanations for the flags, so have this cool infographic)
Virtual safety car: all cars must reduce their speed by 30%
Safety car: all cars must follow the safety car. There will be no overtaking
Stats:
link to a Wikipedia list of driver records
Link to a Wikipedia list of constructor records
Random Drama and funny stuff that happened in f1 that I will be referring to:
The Monaco curse was basically Charles Leclerc being utterly unsuccessful and unlucky at his home race. Broken in 2024. (Yk what I'm going to do with this)
Ferrari strategy is a joke based on Ferrari screwing up their strategy all the time in 2022
The underwear and earrings thing aka the FIA being stupid incidents are the FIA deciding they are a strict secondary school and creating regulations on underwear and jewellery
Brocedes aka the silver war is a homoerotic teenage friendship going wrong in a dramatic intra team rivalry. Occurred in 2016.
The briefcase incident where Gerahd Berger threw Ayrton Senna's briefcase out of a helicopter because he was bragging about it being practically indestructible
Berger putting 99 frogs in Senna's hotel room because he knew Senna would spend all night looking for the 100th. His response? Did you find the snake.
Seb Vettel and his finger
Seb Vettel and his bees
Vettel giving Hamilton's hotel room number to some grid girls
Roscoe and Leo interactions!! (Roscoe is Hamilton's dog and Leo is Leclerc's- some real Argos potential here)
Sergio Perez stealing Roscoe as an April fools joke
Penelope (not that Penelope- I mean Max Verstappen's niece) turning up on Verstappen's streams
Seb Vettel being a nerd and listing all the championship winners since the beginning of F1.
Papaya rules is basically McLaren giving their drivers as fair treatment as possible and it costing them in the wdc (epic fans- don't you see the vision?)
Esteban Ocon and Lewis Hamilton racing remote control cars
This is Hamilton's first time year at Ferrari in pursuit of the 8th wdc
This one is serious- Abu Dhabi 2021 is an incident where Lewis Hamilton was cheated out of a record breaking 8th world championship because the race director decided to invent some new rules
Good articles for learning more about F1:
what is f1
begginers guide to f1
f1 rules and regulations
f1 for beginners (video)
thats it ig bai bai
-Aikya
@eve-will-perceive is there anything important that I missed? This was completely off the top of my head (can u pls add more random drama I'm too tired to think of an more)
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hi i love the way you write artashi and their intimacy ❤️ i imagine when they first start dating and he still has curly hair tashi shows him a routine to take care of them and tells him which products to buy etc. she helps him wash and style it and it’s such a cute bonding moment i just love them🥹
Awww I love this!! <3
CW: 18+
—-
Tashi is still getting used to living with Art. They’re on the road every few weeks navigating the tour and now instead of two rooms they just get one. Saving him money because she’d been sleeping in his bed every night anyway. On the rare occasions that they aren’t traveling it’s him in her one bedroom in Boston. He’s been lazy to search for something permanent and she knows it’s cause he just wants her to make it official.
As good as it feels, sometimes she still can’t help thinking about Patrick. She hasn’t heard from him in years but it still feels like she’s making a mess. Probably why she’s dragging her feet.
If Art feels any trepidation at all he doesn’t say anything.
She hasn’t fallen too fast…the way she did before. But she’s still falling. God help her.
Her favorite thing right now is cuddling up with him on a free day. Where there’s only recovery training, if any training at all. They’ve started spending those days laying in bed, or on the sofa. Spending all afternoon watching movies together till bedtime. And Art does this thing where he’ll rest his head on her chest, or on her lap. Sometimes he’ll play with the string on her pajama pants, he usually chews on it which she would normally find gross but for some reason with him she thinks it’s kind of adorable. Or he’ll gently rub her tummy if he’s lying on her chest.
And she’ll run her fingers through his baby soft curls. He runs cool so he never feels like too much the way Patrick sometimes did. And she can tell that he loves how it feels by the way that he closes his eyes and sighs. Sometimes keening into it which she secretly adores.
They’re watching Love and Basketball and he’s trying not to cry. She’s seen it many times before and honestly she kinda wants to hear him cry. “What conditioner do you use?” She asks so he’s forced to talk as he’s tearing up.
“Um…” he hiccups. “Uh I think it’s called head and shoulders?”
She scoffs. “You mean the two in one stuff?” She figured he’d just start using her stuff the way Patrick did whenever he’d spend the night but he’s way too polite.
“Yeah um…” he rubs his eyes and sniffles. “Is that uh… bad?”
“Well it’s not good,” she says, shaking her head. “No wonder you’re always so frizzy.”
“I’m uh… I’m sorry?”
She laughs. “Say sorry to your curls, sweetheart,” she teases. “Sit up, cry baby.” She nudges him. “I wanna try something.”
“I wasn’t… uh…” he clears his throat. “Yeah okay. What are we doing?” He asks sitting upright and rubbing his eyes.
She brings him in the kitchen with all her hair products and makes him bend over the sink. She washes his hair first with her sulfate free shampoo. She can hear him sigh happily as her fingers tips massage his scalp. Then as she rinses with warm water.
When she pats his hair dry with a towel he’s all flushed, his eyes are dilated and she realizes he wasn’t just sighing of happiness.
“That felt really good,” he says shyly. He grabs at her oversized white t-shirt. It’s wet and he pokes at her now visible nipples.
She bites her lip and makes him sit on her kitchen chair. She straddles him and yeah… he really, really liked that. She tries to focus on massaging the conditioner into his hair but she can’t help kissing him. His tongue slipping into her mouth eagerly and he’s moaning, shifting his hips so she can feel him pressing up against her. God she’s so wet. She didn’t expect it at all but she probably should’ve.
“Mm,” she licks her lips. “Baby we gotta get this processing cap on you.”
“Yeah, let’s put it on.” He breathes.
She giggles. “Oh god. What do you think it is?”
“What?” He smiles.
“The cap,” she presses another brief kiss to his mouth and he swipes his tongue against her lips as she pulls away.
“You’re gonna massage me with it?”
“No baby,” Tashi smiles. She stands up and he reaches for her.
“I wanna fuck you.”
“I know.” She smirks and washes her hands. He stands up behind her, tugging at her leggings.
“Please, Tashi” he breathes, wrapping his arms around her waist, kissing along her throat.
“Just a minute, lemme—“ She pulls a plastic cap off the counter and pulls it over his curls. “Better,” she says, grinning because the heedy expression hasn’t left his face but he does look a little ridiculous with what’s functionally a plastic shower cap on his head.
Doesn’t make much of a difference when he lifts her up on the counter and starts eating her out. She’s grabbing onto him, fingers massaging through the cap while pressing his face against her cunt. He’s obsessed with this part, licking, sucking, tasting… god he’s fucking good at it.
He’s moaning shamelessly, while lapping at her. Almost as loudly as her. When she’s coming for the third time, her legs on his shoulders toes curling, breathless she knows she has to make him stop or he’ll go for hours. “Baby, your hair…” she whines.
“Huh?” He says, dazed. He slowly clamors to his feet. Tenting his pajama pants. She giggles for how ridiculous he looks. But god with his muscles taut, lips wet and skin all flushed he looks really fucking hot too.
“Let’s uh…” she swallows. “We can wash it out in the shower maybe?”
“Yeah,” he breathes.
“Yeah.”
He lifts her up and brings her into the bathroom. They’re barely focused on hair for the first 15 minutes as the water pours over them. He’s using his strength to fuck into her. Kissing her while she rides, she can taste herself. He’s got her, her back pressed up against the cool tile. So much stamina she kinda loves being an athlete even if it aches a little. When they finish she’s a little dizzy. The kinda dizzy she always felt when she fucked his ex best friend. But god does she love the feeling.
“You can move in if you want.” She sighs. Pulling the cap off his head and backing him up into the shower stream.
“Really?” He gasps, shutting his eyes.
“Yeah I’ll uh… I’ll give you one drawer.”
He smiles, blindly. “Uh okay. That’s all I need.”
She kisses his smile and makes a curtain with his hair, so she can look in his eyes. God she’s falling.
She lets his hair dry naturally and by evening time even he’s a bit shocked by how much his curls pop.
“It smells really good too,” he tells her when they’re lying in bed.
“Mmhm,” she smirks. Wrapping one of the curls around her finger.
It becomes a little routine for them. Once a week on the off day she’ll wash his hair and they’ll do other stuff. It doesn’t matter what city they’re in. Everyone is loving his curls and it gets to the point that he’s picking up the conditioner from Target when they run out. Packing it in his suitcase before they go abroad. And asking if he should wear one of those caps she wears to bed. She laughs. “If you want to but I’ve got silk pillowcases.”
“Oh, right,” he says, no idea what that means. But every week he’s just so looking forward to wash day.
(I saw this video on twitter of this girl sitting on another girls lap while she’s washing her hair and as she’s massaging her scalp they stop to kiss. Omg it’s so hot. That’s kinda what I thought of when I wrote this besides this amazing prompt<3. Has anyone seen this video? Did I make it up? If you’ve heard of it… I’ll give you all my kingdom for a link. 😭)
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WTFR: MY ROMAN EMPIRE 📞
I am writing this post so that I could pour all my thoughts and feelings about WTFR into this and FINALLY MOVE ON. 😭😭
I never thought there would come another drama that would consume my whole being. Nobody expected it to be so good. I would yearn and long for new episodes each week. Considering how short everyone’s attention span has become in recent times it’s very commendable that an ongoing drama (which was postponed in between) put us on chokehold, on the edge of our seat every weekend and made us submissive.
Baek sa eon the man that you are 🤌🏼🤌🏼 he’s the protector, provider, obsessive husband that everyone desires. He has raised our (fan girls) expectations and taken the bar so high up it’s unreachable and idk if any kdrama would be able to top. Hong hee Joo is the FL that was need in drama world. She is fierce, stubborn, unhinged and would go above and beyond for the people she loves. Both the leads are so different yet so similar in personality. Both obsessed with each other. Both trying to understand each other. Both not able to communicate. Yet they LOVE each other which is seen in form of their actions than words. I’m so so grateful to both actors soo bin and yeon seok for bringing out these characters to life. This is how intimacy in a marriage should be portrayed This drama had so many beautiful, unique, heart warming couple scenes I’ve lost count. At the end of the episode I would always think, there’s no way they could top this and yet somehow they would surpass my expectations in the next episode. These two will be my ROMAN EMPIRE FOR A LONG TIME. Thank you for the memories and thank you so making us a part of your world
Forever grateful to this one ❤️❤️
There’s a couple here now
They don’t hide their true feelings and are honest with each other
They promised to make an effort to be happy together <3
#when the phone rings#yoo yeon seok#chae soo bin#baek sa eon#hong hee joo#kdrama#kdramas#kdramaedit#netflix#park do jae
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Sum of All 15
Warnings: non/dubcon, mentions of crime, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.
My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.
Character: mob!Steve Rogers
Part of the mob drabbles au
Summary: you are given an unexpected assignment.
As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️
You find the kitchen. There’s a woman there. She looks just as surprised as you.
You scuff to a stop across from her and give a toothy smile, “hi.”
She hesitates, “good morning...” Her confusion nestles in her forehead. “Friend of Thor’s?”
You think about it, “I know him. Sorta.”
She pokes her tongue between her lips thoughtfully, “I’m not his wife. Yet. If you and him are... you know...”
“Huh? Oh, no. No.” You show your palms. “That’s definitely not it. A friend of a friend, really.”
“Ah,” she looks almost disappointed that you’re not sleeping with her ‘not husband yet’. “Oh, you must be one of the guests.”
“I guess I would,” you nod. “I’m not tryna impose but do you have somewhere I can hide.”
“Hide?” She echoes.
“Um, I just need space. To think. You gotta know how it is. Right? Girl power?” You cringe.
She snorts, “alright, I can find you somewhere, but you know, they don’t give up.”
“They?”
“The men. These type of men,” her tone turns dire. “You want some coffee? I just made a pot. Be nice to have. Alone.” She turns to open a cupboard, “At least, I imagine so.”
“Sure, uh,” you sway and look over your shoulder. “My caffeine addiction is a bit of a bitch. Pardon my language.”
She pours into a clear double-walled mug and nears. She wears a robe that’s too big for her. It must be Thor’s. Oh, you shouldn’t think too hard about that.
“So, you’re with Rogers, was it? How long have you been together?” She hands over the mug and beckons you to another doorway.
“Together? No, I work for him. I’m an accountant.”
“Uh huh, he just brings his accountant everywhere?”
“Well, he’s doing business with Thor, right? So I’m here to do numbers.”
“Loki can do those and he doesn’t really seem like the type for teamwork,” she says.
“Sure, uh, but... I don’t know.”
“You like flowers? I think your best bet is the gazebo but I can always find some dark corner inside,” she says.
“Oh, outside would be nice. Maybe the fresh air will help with the fainting.”
“Fainting?” She wonders.
“It’s nothing.”
“If you say so,” she shrugs.
“Oh, by the way, I’m Queenie. Obviously I’m... with Thor.”
“Uh, yes, hi,” you introduce yourself in turn.
“Out here,” she guides you through a back door and down a winding path. You marvel at the scenery.
“Wow, this place is so amazing. You really live here?”
“Sure do. At least I can appreciate the flowers,” she agrees.
She doesn’t sound especially elated with her circumstance. You can relate to that. You come up next to her and balance your mug.
“You know, he totally ruined my job.”
“Hm?” She hums.
“Steve. I was supposed to start a new one and he made me come here instead.”
She takes you around to a gazebo and stops at the lower step, “these kinda men also don’t hear no, do they?”
“Yeah, super annoying. Erm, thanks for the coffee. Sorry if I got in your way.”
“Not at all. I’d love to stay and hide with you but... better if I don’t,” she glances toward the house. “If I see him, I never saw you.”
“Thanks,” you blow out in relief. “I owe you.”
“Nah,” she waves you off. “Girl power, right?”
“Yessssss,” you grin.
She turns and traipses away, in no hurry to get back to the house. You climb the steps, careful not to spill, and sit on the bench against the wall. The smell of pollen and leaves tickle your nose. It’s as calm as you’ve been in days. Weeks, even.
As you ruminate with your coffee, you think about Queenie and what she said. How could she think you and Steve are together? From what you gather, he just broke up with someone. Peggy? You can’t keep track.
You empty the mug and leave it on the bench. You watch the birds from between the vine canopy around the gazebo. The day shifts and your stomach stirs. You are hungry.
You sit and take out your phone. Your battery is low. You should save it.
You’re just so frustrated with everything. Not just Steve but yourself. What’s going on with you that you can’t stop passing out like some damsel in distress? I mean, he is scary but he hasn’t hurt you. Yet.
Oh stop that! You’re just here to count. That’s your job. It’s the one thing you know how to do.
You pace around restlessly. You can’t stay here forever. You know that the longer you do, the worse it will be. You’ll be awkward at best and he’ll be angry at most. But he deserves it! How can he just ruin your whole life because he wants to make some shady deal with a criminal like him?
“So, you going to sleep out here or what?” Steve’s timbre makes you trip and you turn to face him.
He stands at the bottom of the stares, arms crossed, jaw set. You can’t see all of him but he still looks massive. And dangerous.
You glower and shake your head. You’re not ready. Yet, what choice do you have? You’re starting to understand those things Queenie said; or rather, didn’t say.
“You’re just gonna give me the silent treatment, huh?” He climbs the stairs heavily so you flinch with each step. “I don’t get it. Got you nice clothes, took you on a nice trip...” You shake your head and angle so your shoulder is to him. “I been nice to you, sweetheart. It’s why I don’t get this fainting business. I haven’t been violent to anyone who didn’t deserve it.”
You lower your chin and stare at your lap. The things you want to say might just earn his violence. So you’re better off to stay quiet.
“We have an agreement. You gotta do the numbers,” he nears, a shadow mirroring your own. “So...”
“I had an agreement with someone else!” You stand and stomp your foot. “I had a job, an apartment, I had--” You blink and gulp, filling your cheeks with air as you catch your exasperation. You back up and shake your head. “Sorry... no, I’m not sorry. But I am...” you gesture helplessly. “Why me? Why do I have to come here? I didn’t want to!”
You dare to look at him. You can’t read his face. His eyes flick up and down. He pushes his jacket back and slides his hands in his pockets.
“Cause I wanted you to.”
“Because-- because—that's it? Because you felt like it?”
His cheek dimples and he clicks your tongue, “are we being honest, right now? Is that what this is because you’re toeing a lot of lines, sweetheart.”
Your lips thin and you hug yourself. “I guess.”
“Alright, let’s be honest,” he steps closer and the back of your legs touch the bench behind you. “I think you’re cute. I like the way you get all wobbly-headed and I like catching you when you lose it. It’s fun.”
“Fun?” You scoff. “It’s not--” you blink and shake off the ripple in your vision, “no...”
“It’s gonna happen now, isn’t it?” His mouth slants.
“No,” you argue and raise your hand, extending your arm to keep your balance. You reach behind you and slowly sit. “I’m not going to pass out.”
“Oh, you’re not? Not knowing that I like to toy with you,” he gets even closer, bending to look you in the face. “That I’m not even close to done with you?” You inhale deeply as that woozy glaze fogs your head. His eyes are so blue, so bold. He grabs your chin. “That I’m gonna play with you until you’re broken and there’s not a damn thing you can do to stop me.”
You gurgle and latch onto his wrist. He chuckles as you try to pull him off of you, instead leaning into him as your brain speckles hotly. Oh no. Your lashes flutter and stick as he eases you forward. Your body slackens and you’re hurled into the blackness once more.
#steve rogers#dark steve rogers#dark!steve rogers#steve rogers x reader#series#drabble#sum of all#mob au#au#mcu#marvel#captain america#avengers
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I’m soooo happy you wrote this! I’m a plus size girl myself and it was so nice to read all of these! Again it was perfect for each character, u have each one spot on perfect! I laughed out loud at our boy tho when he was like “ u wanna fucking starve yourself? What the fuck is Keto?” 🤭😅 again thank u for this I can definitely relate 😃❤️
Headcanon: Body Insecurity/Appreciation
Pairings: Dean Winchester x Reader, Beau Arlen x Reader, Soldier Boy/Ben x Reader
AN: This one was requested by one of my lovely Patreon members, @roseblue373. 💜 It's a special one to me personally, being plus-sized myself and having gone through my share of insecurities. Wish I had one of these guys to make it better lol!~
Prompt/Request: Great job with the latest Dean/Beau/Ben reacts vignettes! I'd love to see one where reader has put on weight and isn't happy with their body, and how each would make her feel better!! IF the muse agrees, of course! ❤️
HC: How Dean Winchester, Beau Arlen and Soldier Boy (Ben) would react to your body insecurity.
Tags/Warnings: 18+ only! Established relationship, body insecurity (but also body appreciation), thicc thirty, angst, hurt/comfort, fluff, spiciness/smuttishness.
Dean Winchester
You've started breezing past mirrors when you get out of the shower.
Because if you catch sight of your own reflection, you can't help but utter a sigh, your lips dipping into a frown.
In the privacy of the room you share with Dean in the bunker, you take a risk in unwrapping the towel from your body in front of the mirror.
You inspect yourself with growing dejection, noting all the places that are rounder, heavier, less firm than they used to be.
Looks like no amount of running down leads and killing monsters has been enough to keep you in shape.
Too much shitty fast food, too many times you indulged yourself with snacks and dessert alongside your foodie boyfriend.
"What'cha doin', sweetheart?" Dean asks. He steps into the room while wiping donut icing from the corner of his mouth.
Speak of the devil.
When Dean finally catches you frowning at yourself in the mirror, you inhale sharply and close the towel back up.
"Nothing. Just need to get dressed," you reply quickly. "Shower's open."
You try to offer him a smile, despite the pang of jealousy when you eye him.
He gave you the first chance at the shower after the latest case wrapped up, so he's still wearing most of his FBI suit, sans jacket. The white dress shirt is rolled up to his elbows, a few days of scruff neatly trimmed across his cheeks.
The man can cram an entire pizza down his gullet and wash it down with three slices of apple pie, not to mention countless beers. And still, Dean stays looking downright edible.
By comparison, you feel...fat. Like you've let yourself go.
You turn away from him to grab your well-worn sweatpants and an oversized shirt; you plan to change alone in the bathroom, but Dean grabs your arm.
"Who says you need to get dressed?" he says, popping his brows with a suggestive grin. He slips his arms around your waist, but your instinct is to shy away from his hold. You chuckle awkwardly and avoid his now curious gaze.
"Sorry, babe. Um...I'm wiped. I just want to get to bed," you say.
But Dean isn't fooled. His spidey sense is tingling, and his gut is almost never wrong.
His hand slides down your arm and grasps your hand, tugging you back into his arms. You utter a little gasp, but you ultimately smile at his familiar grin. There's a perceptive gleam in his eyes though.
"You know, seems like you've been pretty wiped lately," he says, raising a brow. "It's been a while since we, uh..."
He waggles his brows playfully, squeezing your hips. You want to smile, but you can't let yourself. You can't quite look at him either.
For Dean, it's another glaring red flag. His lips form a frown, and he dips his chin to find your eyes.
"Hey," he says. "What's goin' on? Talk to me."
His tone is so sincere, you have to blink against the sting of tears. Your lower lip wobbles, and Dean frowns in earnest. He presses a hand to your cheek and gets you to look at him with your watery eyes.
"Sweetheart, you gotta tell me what's wrong," he says, more gently, but serious.
Eventually, you're able to get it out. You can't bear the thought of him touching you, because lately, you can't even bear looking at yourself.
"I know I've been gaining weight, I just..." your voice breaks, and you gesture haphazardly at your body. "I'd get it if you're not really into this right now."
Dean's heart clenches. He's downright shocked at your confession, and more than a little disheartened. He presses a hand to your cheek and guides you to look at him.
"All right, hold up just one damn minute."
His calloused fingers gently brush away your tears, but his hands keep moving, slowly traveling down your body. They slide down your bare arms, skimming the sides of your breasts.
Your breath hitches. Your hand is still fisted over your beating heart, keeping your towel closed. His hands continue to move, molding to the curve of your waist over the fuzzy fabric.
"I'll admit, we've been pretty busy lately with everything we've got going on. But if you think that means I'm ever not into this delectable, sexy, voluptuous, goddess body you got rockin' the house?" he says, grinning that utterly Dean grin of his.
You bite your lip against a bubble of laughter. He's too fucking much sometimes.
Dean tugs you closer, until your hips fit snugly against his through his slacks. His tall, broad frame crowds you. His lips skim your cheek, then over your lips in a tease.
He squeezes the flesh of your hips, tender and sensuous.
Your heart flutters at the feeling.
"Mmm, I like you nice and soft," he murmurs against your cheek, close to your ear. "Feels that much better when I fuck you."
A small gasp gets trapped in your throat, while the gravel depths in his voice go straight to your pussy in a pulsing throb of warmth.
By the time he claims your lips in a devouring kiss, you're all too willing to let him peel your towel open, drop it to the floor, and guide you backwards onto the bed.
There he'll take his time, forging yet another mental map of every plush square inch of you.
Beau Arlen
Beau is a busy man. You understand that.
As Sheriff, his job demands a lot from him. He's also a father and has an ex-wife to contend with. (You knew that going in, and you've come to love Emily too.)
However, you can't help but start to take it personally when your sex life begins to suffer. He's often claimed being tired...but there's another suspicion that's been taking root in your mind, feeding your doubts and insecurities about how your boyfriend sees you, and about how you see yourself.
When you slip into bed at night, a kiss goodnight is all he gives you lately, before he's sighing deeply and closing his eyes, his soft snores soon filling the room.
One night, you try touching his shoulder, leaning in to kiss his bearded cheek. He hums at the pleasant feeling.
"You wanna...?" You trail the question in his ear, pressing more sweet kisses down his neck.
"Aw, sweetheart," he groans. "I'd like to, but I think I'd just smother you. I'm about to pass out."
You huff a laugh. You teasingly walk two fingers across his chest. "What if I make it easy for you?"
You shift onto your side. Resting a hand on his chest, you lean down to kiss him. He hums at the softness of it, but the more passion you try to imbue into each new kiss, Beau isn't as responsive as you would like. Eventually, you stop all together.
You frown, becoming disheartened. "You're not into this, I guess."
He opens his tired eyes, gazes up at you in apology. He opens his mouth to reply, but you beat him to it.
"You know it's been a month since we've had sex," you say.
Beau frowns, sliding a hand up your back. Only now does he notice, with appreciation, the familiar silky n��gligée you're wearing.
"Nah, that doesn't sound right," he says.
"Well, it is," you say. "I know you say you're tired, but I mean, you've had this job for as long as I've known you, Beau." Your eyes fall away from him. "So is the job, or...is it me?"
Beau's brows furrow. "Now wait a minute."
The mere thought dredges up what's been plaguing your mind recently, and it has your throat tightening. Tears of embarrassment and upset well up in your eyes, no matter how much you try to push it down.
You push away from him and turn away, crossing your arms. You try not to look at yourself in what used to be your favorite lingerie.
You can't stand the extra weight you've put on, mostly in your hips and ass, but in your middle and arms too.
You've gone through your own stress at work this year, with less and less time to try and take care of yourself, along with making sure Emily gets to and from school, cooking for the three of you, going to PTA meetings when Carla can't make it (since Beau often can't), and every other proverbial hat you wear.
Beau follows you, sitting up and laying a hand on your back. "Sweetheart--"
"I know I've put on a few. Hell, more than a few," you admit, hastily wiping under your eyes. "God, I can't even look at myself right now, let alone have you--"
"Hey. You stop right there," Beau says, more firmly. He gets you to turn around with his hand on your shoulder. He doesn't like the way you're curled in on yourself, as if hiding your body from his gaze.
That, and the sight of your tears damn well break his heart.
He cups the side of your face gently and presses a tender kiss to your forehead, followed closely by your lips.
You don't want to melt, but you just can't help it. You cling to the front of his shirt and lean into his kiss, like you've been lost in the desert, and his lips hold the breath of life.
You almost don't realize it when his arms slip around your waist. He earns a surprised yelp from you when he gathers you close against his chest and rolls you underneath him.
You land against the pillows in a huff. You stare up at his playful smile, his green eyes glinting with amusement, with fondness, and also with desire as they roam over your breasts, barely contained by dark green satin and lace.
"I've been neglecting you, haven't I?" he says. His voice is a low, earthy drawl as his gaze rakes over you. His big hand runs down your side and over your hip, then down your bare thigh, squeezing soft, tender flesh. He slips that hand under the satin night gown.
His hand can't span your entire thigh, but it's not for lack of trying. Your heart beats a staccato rhythm at the way he looks at you, your breath hitching when his thumb dips between your legs, brushing against the damp, silky fabric of your panties.
"It's not because I don't find you sexy as hell. Believe me, darlin', I do," he says. "You're so fuckin' beautiful, especially when you're all laid out for me here."
And he means what he says. You know it by the hardness you feel pressing against your hip. You slip your fingers into his hair with a sigh.
He bows his head to press kisses along your neck; down and down, he noses at the thin strap of your night gown. His path of kisses continue, and he indulges himself by dipping his tongue between the valley of your breasts.
"Filling out this lacy little thing so nice," he murmurs into your skin.
Your upset has turned to abject relief, but you still have to blink away the remaining urge to cry.
You let out a slightly tremulous breath.
"Oh, yeah?" you ask.
Beau pauses. He pulls away, just so he can look up and meet your eyes. He still finds insecurity in yours, so he meets you with a kiss filled with heat and intent.
He's now wide awake. He plans to take his sweet time taking you apart, inch by inch.
In fact, in the back of his mind, he also plans to do better about letting his deputies help him out more at the precint so he can have a better work-life balance.
(Because going a whole damn month without the taste of you is "no bueno," in his words.)
Soldier Boy (Ben)
The man may not be very patient, or particularly perceptive, but he's not an idiot.
At least, not about sex.
He knows that you've been feigning tiredness, and generally avoiding his touch.
What's strange is that you haven't been avoiding him. You still cook for him, still share conversation with him, still insist on having him spoon you on the couch while catching him up on the past four decades of TV shows and movies.
But when he begins to sneak a hand under your oversized shirt (an old one of Ben's), caressing your hip, then dipping down to your softer stomach on the way to your panties, breaking your concentration from the movie as unease laces down your spine.
You grab his wrist on reflex, instead lacing your fingers together.
"What's the matter now?" he asks.
You look over your shoulder at him and find him frowning at you, a divot between his brows. You don't manage to hold his gaze for long.
"Sorry," you say quietly. "I'm just, um, tired."
Ben doesn't believe you, and he's direct when he calls you out on it.
Reluctant to put what you've been feeling into words, you pause the movie and leave the couch (and him) behind.
Ben is annoyed enough to follow you (and underneath, he hides an edge of concern). The conflict leads into the bedroom, where you're still unwilling to open up.
He finally stops you from walking away from him, pinning you against the dresser by your hips. He practically looms over you as he demands an answer. He knows you're hiding something — something that's had you reluctant to let him touch you.
"Is there something you wanna tell me?" he says, a raw edge of warning in his tone. "What, are you fucking somebody else?"
Shock flashes in your eyes, making you angry. "What? No!"
"Well, you seem to be getting your fill somewhere, and it hasn't been from me--"
"Are you fucking serious? I'm not..." Your lips purse. You're actually hurt that he would hurl that accusation your way--and it couldn't be farther from the truth.
You tug your long shirt downwards and cross your arms, but it's more like you're hugging yourself, shielding your body away.
Ben's brows furrow a little bit more.
Eventually you get it out; you haven't been feeling up to being intimate because you're having a hard time even looking at yourself lately.
"I know I need to, um, get back in shape," you say, taking in a shaky breath to try and steady yourself. Your throat constricts, the beginnings of tears stinging your eyes. You want to look at anywhere but at Ben. "I just haven't had much time, with everything going on. But Annie gave me this guide on some different diets, like intermittent fasting, Keto--"
"Fasting," Ben intones. "What, you wanna fucking starve yourself? What the fuck is Keto?"
You sigh, barely resisting the urge to roll your eyes.
"No, not starve myself. And Keto's just..." The idea of trying to explain the new diet craze to your boyfriend is too daunting a task to consider. "Never mind. The point is, I have a plan. My hips, my thighs, my ass--"
Ben squeezes your hips at the mention of them. He happens to like the softness.
"Yeah, you've got a little extra. So fucking what?" he says, his voice deep and exacting as his gaze roams over your body. "Just gives me more to hold onto when I'm fucking you."
You utter a shocked laugh. "Ben!"
He grins lazily, and he turns you this way and that, admiring you from all angles. In his eyes, he doesn't find a side he doesn't like. You can't help but blush hotly under his gaze.
"Sweetheart, do whatever you want if it makes you feel good. But you don't need to starve yourself." His hands move to your ass, squeezing a bit harder on the plush flesh.
A yelp escapes you; he's pressing into you from the front as well, and you feel him heavy and already half-hard against you. You grab onto his arms for stability as your breaths quicken.
His attitude kind of surprises you, even though it soothes the frayed, insecure part of your soul that wants to be as beautiful and attractive in his eyes as he is in yours.
Ben is literally a super soldier. You're actually kind of jealous. The man can drug and booze hard and eat whatever the hell he wants, but his super metabolism just seems to absorb it into his washboard abs.
(The more you think about it, the more you want to smack him.)
Nothing about him isn't hard and lean, muscle and strength.
Only his hands have a measure of gentleless when they're holding you like this.
"I've just got so many stretch marks now," you begin to complain, in an emotional whisper.
He snorts. "And? You think it's anything I haven't seen? I'm not afraid of a little cellulite either."
At that, your head tilts in consideration. Butcher's Granny Fucker remark comes to mind. You bite your lip against a smirk.
Ben crooks a curled finger under your chin. He guides you to meet his eyes, before he lures you into a lusty kiss.
It's somewhat rough because of his beard, but you still smile afterwards, leaning against him now.
"Ain't nothing about you that I can't handle," he adds, all smirking and cocky. To prove his point, he hooks those strong hands behind your thighs and lifts you onto the dresser.
You gasp and cling to his shoulders. From there, he makes quick work of ridding the oversized shirt from your body, revealing you to the cool air and his hot gaze.
You take his face in your hands and bring him in for an even steamier kiss, your heart lighter and trembling with anticipation.
You've held yourself from him long enough, Ben thinks, and he has every intention of devouring you right on your old dresser -- before you two even get to the bed.
AN: 😮💨 I feel like each of these could've been even longer with their own one-shot loll. I wrote the Midnight Espresso-verse for Dean, partially to explore what his relationship would be like with a plus-sized reader. 💖💖
Let me know which one you liked most this time!
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(possible bad grammar bc I’m tired) When Wild Life started I was so happy that I could actually stay on top of a life series
💚💛❤️🎲
btw if you see this and watch wild life/any other life thing, (and feel like answering I suppose) who do you normally watch?
I normally mainly watch Grian but watch one or two of Mumbo’s and Scar’s vids
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Okay, I’m torn about what I want to make you write BUT you’ve promised me that your 7x7 fic will be out soon SO I’m gonna ask for more Auction Ruca 🙃
🩵🩷💜🩵🩷💜
At this rate, you and @jamieroyjamieroy are gonna have the entire fic written and posted in snippets haha. Here you go! ❤️
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The night air is cool by the time the evening comes to an end. Rocker immediately shivers, regretting his choice of short sleeves, but it doesn’t escape Luca’s notice. Luca slips off his suit jacket and wraps it around Rocker’s shoulders, gently tugging on the collar and making a show of smoothing it out as he stands in front of Rocker. Up this close, Rocker swears he sees constellations in Luca’s eyes. They have always mesmerized him, an endless blue, and now they capture him in a steady gaze.
“Better?” Luca asks, a ghost of a smile playing on his lips.
“What are you doing here?” Rocker asks, dodging the question. “You said you had plans tonight.”
“Didn’t want to ruin my whole surprise.” Luca’s eyes twinkle and Rocker’s heart begins to race.
“Don’t do that,” he warns weakly. Luca’s gaze softens, both hands curling around Rocker’s shoulders, and they prevent him from retreating. Luca knows him too damn well.
“Donovan.” He closes his eyes at the sound of his name, swallowing, and opens them again. Luca’s still there. Not a dream then. “I want to take you on a date. Not just beers and a burger or fish tacos, but an actual date. A restaurant with candles, the whole nine yards.”
“You could have just asked. You just…” Rocker shakes his head, trying to pull back, but Luca doesn’t let him go. “Luca, I’m not-“
“I’m not going to let you finish that train of thought,” Luca warns him seriously. “And I’ve been trying to ask you out. You weren’t paying attention.”
“I…” Rocker’s speechless as he tries to reflect over the last few weeks. Invitations out had always turned into group hangouts. “You set this up.” He accuses softly.
“Didn’t know it would be so easy. Tan was happy to help. My whole squad has been placing bets on us with Edwards.” Luca chuckles, sliding his hands down Rocker’s biceps, and squeezes twice. “I’m not asking for your heart, Donovan. Not if you don’t want to give it to me. But I want to prove that I’m serious about something with you.”
“Luca…” Rocker croaks, hating the way his voice is failing him at the present.
“I’m not pressuring you into anything.” Luca says firmly, stepping back and removing his hands. Rocker shivers for an entirely different reason this time. “If you don’t want to do this, that’s okay. No hard feelings. But if you do, I promise I’ll make sure you have the best time.”
“I know you’ll deliver.” Rocker murmurs. “Dominique, this could…it could change everything between us.”
“I’m hoping it does. You’ve got this coming week to think it over, okay? Hicks told me the voucher’s good for the next six months, but I know we both have next Friday and Saturday off. Just think about it?” He phrases it like a question and Rocker nods, his head still spinning. “Good.” He slides his hands into his pockets and starts to turn, smiling over his shoulder. “Get home safe, yeah?”
“Wait,” Rocker takes a half step after him and falters. “Your jacket.”
“Keep it. It looks better on you.” Luca’s crooked grin slides into place and Rocker’s heart roars in his chest.
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