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belqva · 2 days ago
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— NO OTHER HEART ꪆৎ ˚⋅ [lando norris]
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pairing: lando norris x reader
synopsis: you comfort lando after the events of the brazilian grand prix
word count: 0.8k
a/n: you know what they say the devil works hard but tumblr writers work harder! english is not my first language!! there isn’t much to say really the fic speaks for itself, I’m absolutely heartbroken for Lando 💔 as always my recs are open!
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You step quietly from the bathroom, padding softly across the cool floor as you return to the hotel room you’re sharing with Lando. The evening Sao Paulo air hums faintly through the window, thick with the memory of a long, disappointing race. One night here before flying back to England, and it’s clear he’s wrestling with every second of it. The race weekend just… didn’t come together. Barely scraping into Q2, battling through a tough race, and ending P6 while Max took the win. His championship dreams seem to be slipping through his fingers like sand, fading at lightspeed.
You open the door gently, taking in the quiet expanse of the hotel room and finding Lando on the edge of the bed, his back to you, head buried in his hands. Tension radiates from him, heavy and unmoving, and it tugs at your heart.
Without saying anything, you step closer, placing a careful hand on his shoulder, light as a whisper. “Lan…” Your voice is soft, a thread in the quiet.
He lifts his head, meeting your gaze with an expression so blank, it’s like he’s hollowed out. No anger, no frustration—just this bleak emptiness that stirs something deep inside you. You sit beside him, keeping your arm wrapped around him, grounding him, holding him steady.
“Lando, I—” you begin, but he cuts you off, his tone edged with exhaustion.
“Please, I don’t want to talk about it.” He lets out a frustrated breath, and you feel his shoulder tense under your hand.
You turn to face him, gently coaxing his chin up to look at you. “Lando, I know you don’t want to talk. But ignoring it won’t make it go away.” Your words are quiet but firm, steady, because he needs that right now.
His gaze flickers, a brief flash of anger, though you know it’s not really aimed at you. “There’s nothing to fix, Y/N. It’s gone. All of it, because of my driving,” he snaps, the words tumbling out before he can catch them. His anger wavers, softening just at the edges, but it stings all the same.
You take a steadying breath, resisting the urge to match his frustration. Instead, you lean closer, voice gentle yet unwavering. “You don’t get it, Lando.”
He huffs, his tone almost mocking, almost defensive. “What don’t I get, huh? If you’re so smart, then explain it to me.”
The weight of his disappointment is heavy between you both, and for a second, you hesitate. But then you see it—behind the frustration, the anger, the shame. He looks like a kicked puppy, lost and vulnerable, and it breaks your heart.
“Lando, it’s not your fault,” you say, your voice firm but full of warmth. You feel him still, his eyes flickering as he processes your words. “It’s not. The team made mistakes, the setup wasn’t right. Yes, maybe you slipped up, but you gave it everything you had.”
He’s silent for a moment, staring down, lost in his thoughts. Finally, he mumbles, barely audible, “But it wasn’t enough.”
You take his face gently in your hands, forcing him to look at you. “Listen to me, Lando. I will love you no matter what. Championship or no championship, none of that changes how I see you. I love you if you’re rich, if you’re poor, if you’re old, if you’re tired. None of this changes what you are to me.”
Your voice wavers, a rawness creeping in as your own emotions surface. “This hurts me as much as it hurts you. Seeing you like this, feeling this pain—I wish I could take it away. But this is motorsport, Lando. This is Formula 1. It’s brutal, and it’s unforgiving, and I know you know that.”
His lips part, his eyes glossing with unshed tears as he finally allows himself to feel everything he’s been holding back. The first tear slips free, tracing a line down his cheek, and you open your arms. He doesn’t hesitate—he just collapses against you, burying his face in your shoulder, gripping you like you’re the last solid thing in a world that’s crumbling around him.
You stroke his hair, the familiar scent of him filling your senses as you hold him, feeling his silent sobs shake against you. “I will love you, Lando Norris, no matter what,” you whisper, voice thick with emotion. “I need you to know that. You’re my anchor just as much as I’m yours.”
You both stay like that, wrapped in each other’s arms, letting the silence speak louder than words. You bury your face in his messy curls, and together, you grieve the almost-end of a season that held so much promise. But despite everything—the heartbreak, the frustration, the unfulfilled dreams—the love between you is fierce and unwavering, a light that refuses to go out.
And in this moment, with the world shut out, you’re two pieces of the same soul, holding each other up, finding strength in the love you share. Because even when everything else falls away, even when the races are lost and the dreams go unrealized, you’re here. And that’s all that matters.
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© COPYRIGHT BELQVA 2024
SHARING THIS, ANY OF MY OTHER WORKS OR A TRANSLATION OF THEM WITHOUT CONSENT ON THIS OR ANY OTHER PLATFORM IS STRICTLY FORBIDDEN !!!
THIS IS JUST A WORK OF FANFICTION !!!
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lovelytsunoda · 2 days ago
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you've got me under your spell | eddie brock and venom
summary: the then's and now's of halloween in the brock household
pairing: eddie brock x wife!reader (and their son!) x venom
warnings: i've turned eddie brock from a swagless loser to a dilf, venom is loaned to a child as a halloween costume, venom is almost like a second child tbh, implied smut, brief mentions of mental illness and pregnancy-related mental health issues. not to spoil anything at the end but the final section is pretty fucking funny if i do say so myself.
author's note: i have a very delayed last minute addition to my halloween fics for 2024! after flying through all three venom movies in about two days (as someone who doesn't watch marvel movies, might i add), i am pleased (and a little concerned) to annoucne that eddie brock is now my favourite marvel character.
yes, dylan brock is a canon character in the venom comics (or so i have been told) but all this dylan had in common with the canon version is his name.
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2010.
she watched fondly from the doorway as eddie picked up the infant, who was currently trying to crawl towards the white pumpkin in the bay window. dylan laughed in his father's arms as eddie spun around before cradling the infant against his chest. he caught his wife's eyes from the doorway, a cheeky grin on his face as he looked down at dylan.
"hey kiddo, i think mommy's looking at us."
dylan smiled, wide and toothless, letting out the baby equivalent of a cheer as he looked over at his mother.
"are you guys ready to make the rounds? i promised mrs. chen some baby time." y/n laughed, reaching out to hold her son's small hand in hers.
the streets outside were lit up with fog machines and smiling skeletons, filled with the sounds of kids milling about. it was baby brock's first halloween, and he was dressed appropriately for it in his little pumpkin costume. after attempting to suck on y/n's finger, dylan dropped her hand and busied himself with attempting to trace the tattoos visible on eddie's forearm.
eddie beamed, kissing his wife softly before answering. "we're ready if you are. lead the way, mamas."
y/n had never pictured herself as a mother. in her twenties, when it seemed like settling down was the only thing people her age wanted to do, she was paralyzed with fear, insecurity and a little bit of self-loathing. being inside of her head was a nightmare, and she wasn't even sure she'd make it to thirty.
things had started to change when she met eddie brock.
slowly, she came alive again. she started to want things that she had thought were out of reach. she wanted to get married, have that house and that family and the white picket fence. to know that everything she had done had added up to this moment, and that everything had been worth it.
but she hated being pregnant. for her, growing another human being had been an arduous, terrifying experience. the eight hours of labour she had gone through on the day dylan was born was enough for her to decide that she didn't want more kids, and that she could still have the family she dreamed of with only one child.
she kissed dylan's forehead softly, brushing back his thin baby hair before tucking the small pumpkin hat onto his little head, and over his small ears.
the couple walked down the front steps of their bungalow, one of eddies arms around his wife, and the other holding his son (which was quite the feat, considering that the infant so desperately wanted out of his father's arms. dylan was an active baby, but he was allowed to crawl down the residential street, he would do so at such a pace that the brocks would never get him back.)
at every house they went to there was someone to coo over the littlest brock. eventually, eddie had to drop that arm around his wife so that he could use both hands to hold his son. dylan smiled that wide, gummy smile and laughed and babbled at all of the people that they passed, y/n clutching an almost-full orange bag of candy (she was convinced that some of their neighbours gave out extra candy to the couple, simply to reward them with the hit of caffeine found in chocolate that the new parents would so crave).
as they walked towards mrs. chen's house, dylan finally settled in his fathers arms, eddie looked over at his wife with nothing but reverence and love in his eyes. even carrying a little bit of extra weight around her hips and stomach, her breasts a little fuller and her arms a little chubbier, she was as radiant as she was the day that they got married. he would do anything for her, for his son. his little family.
"eddie, darling." she laughed, turning to face him. "you're staring."
eddie blushed, the rose in his cheeks barely visible in the dark. "uh, no i'm not."
"yes you are." she giggled. "i love you, eddie brock."
"i love you more." eddie beamed, leaning over to kiss her. "i think the little guy is worn out." he spoke softly, nodding towards the baby in his arms. "he's asleep."
"awe." y/n cooed, gently stroking her son's arm with her pointer finger. the sight of eddie holding their son in his arms would never grow old. she was starting a folder of pictures on her laptop of this very thing, as she knew dylan would soon be too big for his father to hold. "he's just like his father. he can go to sleep any time, any where and in any condition."
eddie laughed. "i feel like there was an insult buried in there somewhere."
"i still married you, didn't i?"
2024.
"dylan, if you want to get to eric's on time, you've gotta get going now! his mom's on the way!"
y/n knocked on her son's door, waiting until she heard the disgruntled teenage groan from the other side. satisfied that dylan had been served enough warning, she headed back out into the living room.
she had put eddie in charge of moving the halloween candy from the massive carboard costco boxes to the festive plastic bowls, and he was doing a surprisingly okay job at it.
their life had changed drastically in the years since her husband had begun to share his body with a symbiote. the symbiote had once given dylan nightmares, and she had fielded one too many concerned calls from the school after he had gone around and told all of the other kids that his father was an alien and would eat anybody who was mean to him (although, once eddie and venom had bonded, venom was steadfast in his commitment to eating any bullies that dylan may face) it had taken time, and a lot of home repairs to get used to, but alas, venom now felt like one of the family.
well, more like the cousin you don't want any of your friends to meet. or the alien that your husband is in a strangely homeorotic relationship with.
"i thought venom would have eaten half of those by now." she remarked, leaning over the back of the sofa to rest her head on her husband's shoulder, hands on his chest.
"i made him promise to behave today. i don't want him scaring the little kids." eddie shrugged, turning his had to kiss his wife softly.
"what did you have to give him?"
eddie paused, waiting a beat in order to formulate an answer that wouldn't send his wife into a spiral. in the distance, he heard dylan's bedroom door open and close, and then the fourteen-year-old came bounding into the living room.
"eric's mom is like five minutes away. is it okay if i wait outside?"
keeping her hands on eddie shoulders, y/n straightened, looking over at her son. "no costume?'
she didn't miss the way that eddie's muscles tensed up under her hands, or the way dylan's pinkie finger twitched. neither of them said a word, and when her eyes zeroed in on the full boxes of nestle chocolates, she got her answer.
"edward brock, please tell me that you did not lend your symbiote to our son as a halloween costume!"
dylan's shoulder rippled black over the top of his hunter-green sweatshirt, venom's inky head materializing next to a defeated looking dylan.
"okay, we won't tell you." the symbiote said , turning to face eddie. "you told me that this was okay with mrs. b."
eddie got up from the couch, pointing a finger at the symbiote. "i said no such thing. i said we were never supposed to tell y/n under any circumstances."
"mom, it's only for the night. you let dad have venom year-round!" dylan protested, stuffing his hands in his sweater pockets. "how is this any different?"
y/n stopped and counted to twenty, eyes closed before she breathed deeply and opened them again.
"that's because your father is the one who brought venom into this house in the first place, and i didn't get a say in the matter. also, your father is an adult, and venom actually listens to him."
"i listen to nobody!"
eddie coughed. "actually, he doesn't listen to me at all. he does what he wants half of the time."
"not the point, eddie! hosting venom almost killed you."
"actually- "
"not now vee!" eddie and y/n shouted together.
eddie reached for his wife's hand, knowing that she needed something to ground her, something tangible that she could hold on to. his hand was warm and calloused, comforting. she ran her thumb over eddie's knuckles as he stepped closer, dropping his voice in the hopes that dylan and venom wouldn't be able to eavesdrop.
"y/n, you know that i wouldn't let dylan take venom out if i didn't think he could handle it. its just one night."
"eddie, venom eats people. i don't want to get calls from parents stating that their sons hung out with my son, and then they came back headless."
"he has sworn to be on his best behavior tonight." eddie insisted. "and besides, when was the last time we had a night that was just the two of us? no dylan, no venom."
she paused, trying to think, the calm was starting to ease back into her body, the initial panic subsiding. her husband was right, she knew. while nights without dylan had become more common the older he got, with the boy staying over at friend's houses or going out late with his buddies, having a husband who hosted an alien sometimes put a damper on date night.
for the past five years, she had felt like she was in a never-ending threesome. don't get her wrong, the sex was absolutely phenomenal, but she missed her husband. she missed the days when it was just the two of them, curled up in bed on a sunday afternoon, with reruns of a bad sitcom playing in the background as they made love without a care in the world.
she realized that she was excited at the idea of having sex with her husband without an alien tentacle trying to slip into her ass (which felt absolutely incredible, by the way. after the first time venom did that, she downloaded all the monsterfucking books she could find on kindle unlimited. trying to explain the plot of ice planet barbarians to eddie had been quite the spectacle).
a honk in the front driveway snapped her out of her thoughts. dylan was looking at her expectantly, venom's head still hovering in the air next to him. if it were possible for symbiotes to give puppy dog eyes, she was sure that venom would be doing so. she looked at eddie, and then back at dylan, weighing her options.
"fine. dylan, you can take venom with you."
venom and dylan gave a cheer, the teen high-fiving one of venom's slinky tentacles.
"i promise not to eat any of the children, mrs. b. only gourmet chocolate. dylan says tonight is the best night for it."
"go on." y/n laughed. "don't keep eric waiting. and be careful!"
eddie and y/n stood by the front window, eddie's hand in her back pocket as they watched dylan run down the driveway and jump into the back of eric's mom's nissan. he had grown up so fast. it felt like just yesterday he was an infant in a pumpkin costume, cradled in eddie's strong arms. now he was almost as tall as his father.
y/n let out a small yelp as she felt herself become weightless, her husband's strong, beefy arms wrapped around her thighs.
"baby, be careful! you aren't as strong without venom! i don't want you to hurt your back!"
"i'll be fine! we have a heating pad for a reason!"
the headed down the hallway in a cloud of giggles, eddie kicking the bedroom door closed behind them with a cheeky grin on his face.
oh yeah, they were going to enjoy every second of having the house to themselves.
____
it was nearing midnight when dylan brock came home, shocked to find his father in the living room, sitting on the sofa in the dark and wincing every time he moved.
"dad? what are you doing? where's mom?"
eddie groaned, trying not to move too much. the heating pad rested against his lower back, and any movement sent a sharp pain up his spine. "she's asleep. tired out."
dylan made a face, dropping his backpack next to the couch. "god damn it, dad! i don't need to know that!"
eddie chuckled. "not like that." well, sort of like that. "this week has been hard on her. between you, me and venom, she's got her hands full."
"what's the heating pad for?" dylan crossed his arms over his chest, staring his father down.
"i hurt my back. it's nothing, not important."
"oh my god! you hurt your back banging mom!"
"dylan, keep your voice down! your mother is sleeping!" eddie scolded, screwing his eyes shut. "and she doesn't know. there is nothing less sexy than pinching something in your back while-"
"stop. please. i don't want to know."
"anyways, i waited until she fell asleep to put some muscle spray on it, and that didn't help, so here i am with the heating pad. how was your night?"
"it was good. venom's fun. we went trick-or-treating around eric's neigbourhood, where all the fancy houses are. also, i think i know what possum brain tastes like." dylan scrunched up his face. "venom decided he'd eaten enough snickers bars."
"snickers are for the weak." venom grunted. "real men eat brains."
eddie laughed. "now you know what the inside of my head is like. at least venom didn't try to eat any people. i wish i never knew what grey matter tasted like."
dylan extended his hand. "it's been fun, but i think he wants his host back."
eddie took dylan's hand in his, inhaling as he felt venom fill his veins once more, the familiar voice he'd come to tolerate returning to the back of his mind. slowly, the stinging pain in his lower back started to subside, the symbiote healing him from the inside out.
"thanks buddy. i needed that." he sighed. "and thanks for looking after dylan."
"no problem, eddie. you know, you'd get hurt less around the house if you stopped doing silly things when i'm not here."
"hey dylan, do you want the symbiote back?"
dylan laughed, heading to his room. "not a chance, dad. you're the only person in the world who could handle him."
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nickfowlerrr · 24 hours ago
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with you
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part one
pairing: bucky barnes x curvy!reader
warnings: 18+ only. established relationship from everybody talks - but can be read as a standalone! feelings of loneliness. some angst. unprotected sex. squirting. use of pet names (sweetheart, doll, baby). dirty talk. heaps and heaps of fluff. if something needs to be tagged, pls lmk!
words: just about 8.5k
notes: a huge thank you to @whatever-lmaoo for beta-ing for me yet again! i appreciate you so much!! and i know, i know, a little late for a halloween fic- but i guess it’s okay bc this isn’t really all that halloweeney lol. honestly a little more personal than usual but i hope you all enjoy it anyway. please let me know what you think and thank you in advance for taking the time to read! 🩵
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You’re pushing the basket, weaving your way through the aisles full of other semi last minute shoppers in search of their own Halloween costumes. You can’t get past a family spread out in the middle of the aisle as they contemplate their options aloud, no concern for the other people around them trying to shop. You suppress your eye roll but not the sigh of slight annoyance as you back up and move to the next aisle over, thankfully empty.
There aren’t many options here, but maybe something will give you an idea of what to dress up as. A couple minutes pass as you peruse the random assortment of costume accessories. Your mind is fully in idea mode as you try to piece something wearable together in your mind… you have that black maxi dress hanging in your closet, that could probably work as a good base.
You’re not paying attention to your surroundings as you nudge the basket further down the aisle while you examine two different pairs of long black gloves in your hands and take a step down the aisle to see the witch hats.
But do you really wanna be a witch? You purse your lips in thought before tossing the sets of gloves back into the big green cauldron you got them from. Your eyes linger on the witch section as you grasp the handle of the cart and start to push.
Before you set your head straight, you’re stopped in your path as you find yourself crashing into something. Oh gosh…
Someone.
Your apology is sputtering out past your lips before you can even turn to see the injured party, but once you do, and your eyes meet with sparkling blues, you stop your fumbling and sigh heavily in your relief.
“Oh, thank god,” you breathe as your shoulders relax. “I thought I actually hit someone.”
“Am I not someone?” Bucky scoffs with a hint of a smile on his lips.
“No, you are,” you assure him as you leave the basket and walk toward him, “but you’re my someone, so it’s okay and you have to forgive me.”
“Oh, I see,” he nods, eyeing you in your approach. You double check the aisle is still clear before kissing him, soft and fleeting.
“Did you find it?”
“Out of stock,” he frowns.
“Damn. We’ve looked everywhere, what now?”
“I don’t think ghosts lining the grass are gonna do much more than the full out display you’ve already set up, sweetheart. I think we’ll be okay,” he laughs.
“Yeah,” you sigh, a soft pout still on your lips, “you’re right. I just…”, a tight, heavy sigh leaves you as you shake your head, trailing off.
Bucky steps closer, his hand coming to rest on your waist, squeezing lightly.
“I know,” he says, softly.
You force a smile, taking his hand to hold in yours. “Alright, well, we got the candy and the groceries and the toothpaste,” you list aloud, trying to think if you’re forgetting anything.
“Toilet paper,” Bucky supplies, pushing the cart backwards before turning it to push it himself.
“Toilet paper! Who needs a list when I have you,” you lean into him as you walk before heading to the aisle ahead of him.
“Sweetheart?” Bucky calls from the kitchen as you wipe at the stray tear falling down your cheek. You blow your nose gently and close out of the app.
Another post of fall fun your nieces are having, and right below it another post from another costume party you weren’t invited to.
Don't let it get to you, you chide yourself. It's just the fomo sinking in. Nothing more.
You wipe at your cheeks before grabbing the door handle, calling down the stairs, "I'm coming!"
You make your way down the steps and are met at the bottom with Bucky, smiling like a schoolboy.
In his hands he holds a singular Halloween decoration.
"It's not light up ghosts, but,"
"It's perfect," you cut him off, smiling softly as you take the familiar ghost cutout from his hands.
You can't help but grin at the memory of your first Halloween with Bucky. Your first date. First meeting! God, it's been a whirlwind of a year.
Your eyes flicker to his and you immediately meet his stunning gaze; his already set on you.
"Just like you," he simpers.
You groan in jest, setting the cutout to rest along the stairs before you wrap your arms around him, leaning into his warm, solid hold. You sigh as he rubs your back comfortingly.
"Hey," he calls gently, causing you to pick up your head to look at him. "Talk to me. Please," he adds as your pout grows. "You've been off all week, what's going on?"
Your gaze drops to his chest as your arms drop from around him. He doesn't let you slip away as he takes your hand in his and leads you to the couch, pushing you down before he follows suit, wasting no time in getting you back in his hold once you're both comfortable. You let your head rest on his chest as he holds you.
"I miss my family," you say simply with a shrug.
He waits for more, but when he realizes you're done talking, he speaks himself.
"You've been missing them since we moved here," he presses, "I know it's not just that."
You mindlessly play with the buttons on his shirt, not able to make eye contact right now.
You swallow hard.
You know the truth, and you know Bucky deserves to know what you're thinking. After all, he did uproot his entire life for you after only knowing you five months...
"I just...I don't know."
You glance up at him, his eyes soft and gaze patient.
"I... What if this was just a huge mistake?" You ask. "Moving here. Just another stupid, selfish idea that I'm gonna regret by next year."
"Living your life away from your family isn't stupid or selfish," he says, no judgement in his soothing voice. "And, you know what we talked about before we moved here. No regrets. And if you decide you want to go back,"
"We go back," you nod. "I know."
"Well," he starts, "do you?"
"No," you answer right away. It's the truth. You don't. But still, that fear. The unknown, it nips at you. What if? "I knew this wasn't gonna be easy, but," you sigh, "what if I just don't belong here?"
His brows furrow, "Why wouldn't you?"
"It's been, what, seven months? And what do I have to show for it? And it's not just work-" you stop yourself before you start to rambling, taking a deep breath. "I haven't even made a single friend yet. All those sets and events and all those people I've met, and I just. I haven't fit in anywhere. No one...likes me," you trail off so quietly, not really wanting him to hear.
"Sweetheart, that is not true."
"You don't know that, Buck,"
"Oh, and you do?"
"I do. That gig on Monday," you stammer, embarrassed, "it's stupid," you try to brush off, not wanting to have to explain the memory.
He doesn't have to say a word with the look on his face.
You sigh, but continue.
"We were in between takes and everyone was talking, like, to each other in a group. And I was there, but like, I wasn't there. I was standing with everyone else and trying to be...engaging. But," you purse your lips as the embarrassment burns you anew. "And, they were talking about their plans for Halloween, and this girl said she was throwing a party, and she invited everyone, asked for their numbers so she could send them the information, and she got everyone's number. Except for mine. And I was just standing there, like, probably looking so lame," you try to laugh as your eyes sting, "pretending like I didn't notice, nonchalant," you breathe tightly, pulling at a loose thread on the little V of his henley.
"I followed some of the other people online for like, 'connections', ya know, for future work, and one of them posted pictures from the party, and like, everybody from that set was there. And it looked like so much fun. And, you know I don't even like parties," you throw out, "but...why wasn't I invited? Why," you pause, biting your tongue, "why didn't they like me?"
"Baby," Bucky coos, his touch featherlight and yet so stabilizing, "those are just a few people,"
"That wasn't an isolated incident, Bucky. That has been my entire life. I try not to let it bother me, but I try. So hard, I try to be...normal. Likeable. Friendly. And no matter what I do, or how well I think I play the part, I'm just a mess of introversion and social anxiety."
You can see how badly he wants to interrupt you and reassure you of your so-called perfection, but he doesn't. He lets you talk; he wants to hear you.
"You know how many parties I was invited to in school?" you ask rhetorically. "Not a single one. And the people I thought were my friends wer-" you shake your head. "I'd always try to console myself with the thought that it would get better as I got older, but I think...I think it actually hurts more now than it ever did back then. The nerds were friends with the nerds, and the popular kids were friends with the popular kids, and everybody had their group. But even in my 'group', I was just kinda there. Not alone, but alone. Fading into the background. Into the gray."
You sit in quiet for a long moment before continuing.
"But then I'd get home. And I'd be with my sisters, and all of a sudden I wasn't alone. And I was, like, really me. For forever, they were the only people who ever really, truly saw me. Who I was comfortable enough with to be myself," you turn into Bucky further, your hand still on his chest.
"Then I met you," you smile. "And I don't know how or why, but you see me."
"In technicolor," he whispers as he lets his knuckles brush your cheek. You close your eyes at his soft touch, melting further into him.
"I've just been feeling excluded, and then I start missing my sisters even more, and you know I love you, so much, but this job is just constant rejection and it all just piles on and I keep trying to get by without having to dwell on it all, but I know I can't keep doing that. I know I want to be here. And I can do this. It just, gets hard sometimes. And I've been getting in my head. And I'm sorry I haven't talked about it sooner. I don't want it to seem like I regret moving here, and I really don't want it to seem like I'm not so grateful that you're here with me. That you came all this way for me. It means the world; you mean the world to me."
"The feeling is mutual," Bucky simpers, the corner of his lips turning up as he watches you, his hand aimlessly wandering up and down your side. "I'd go anywhere with you, sweetheart. I know it's not the same, but for what it's worth, I like you. I'd want you at every party."
You smile at him as he cuddles you and can't help the fit of laughter that erupts from you as he squeezes you, nuzzling into your neck and peppering kisses along your delicate skin.
You catch your breath as he finally lets up and pulls away, only to lean his face closer to yours, kissing you softly.
"I'm really proud of you, you know. You're a lot stronger, and a lot braver than you give yourself credit for. And anyone would be lucky to be able to have you in their life, let alone to call you their friend. As your best friend, I should know," he adds playfully.
"You're my best friend?"
"And you're mine," he nods, eyes gleaming with that look that sends butterflies a flight in your tummy. Your eyes flick down to his lips for less than a second before he's kissing you again; just as soft, and twice as sweet.
"I love you," he murmurs.
"Iloveyou," you mumble back, just a little dumb from the depth of his kiss. You give yourselves a moment in your shared embrace before you speak again. "Okay," you sigh, "we gotta finish the yard so I can facetime the girls before they head out for trick or treating."
Bucky rolls off the couch before pulling you up after him as you extend your arm expectantly.
You’re surprised as Bucky’s hold doesn’t let up and he tugs you into him. You stare at him, eyes wide and curious.
“I’m sorry you’ve been feeling bad lately. Whatever you wanna do tonight, and tomorrow,” he emphasizes as you smile demurely, “you got it.”
“Because that wasn’t gonna happen anyway?” You tease, earning a smirk from him as you reach for his hand to drag him to the front of the house.
You pause in your path and spin to go grab your favorite little ghost decoration from the steps.
“I know exactly where this is going.”
The familiar ring of the Facetime call has you growing more and more giddy with anticipation as you wait your sister's answer.
But the longer you wait, the more fallen your smile becomes.
Your FaceTime isn't answered, but not too long after, your phone dings with a text.
The girls went trick or treating early, no connection. Sorry! Try to call you back later. But send pics of the yard whenever! We need to see!
You deflate at the news. You guys had planned this, they knew how excited you were to show the girls the house yourself - or as close as you could get. Stuff happens, and by now you've come to accept that when it comes to kids, plans rarely ever play out the way you'd like. But still.
You sigh as Bucky watches you intently, noticing your shift in mood instantly. You can already see how the rest of the night will go. They'll get back from trick or treating and try to call, but you'll inevitably miss it, and once you do get another moment to call back, the girls will already be asleep. Pics will be it.
And that's...okay. You're disappointed, of course, but really, it's okay. You’re sure had you not talked to Bucky about how you’d been feeling lately, you’d be in tears right about now. But having gotten some of your frustration and anxiety out has helped. Just being around him has helped. You didn’t realize before that you’d been in and out of the house all week with classes and work and now that you think about it, this is the first day you’ve been able to spend actual time with Bucky, too. No wonder you were feeling so isolated.
"Can't talk right now?" Bucky asks as he steps closer to you in the front yard.
"Nope," you pop the 'p'. "Trick or treating early. I'm just gonna send 'em some pictures I guess."
"I'm sorry, sweetheart," he tries to comfort you, pulling you into his side as you both look on at the Halloween decorations littering the yard. "I know you wanted to share it with them."
"'S'okay," you smile a small smile, leaning into him. "I still had fun doing this with you. Thank you for your assistance," you add, fluttering your gaze up to meet his.
"Anytime. Anything to see that smile,” he adds, leaning in to place a quick kiss on your cheek, sending warmth through you at the affection.
“Guess we should get the candy ready,” you muse.
“And your costume on.”
“I didn’t pick anything,” you frown. “I don’t really feel like dressing up anyway. Besides,” you turn into him, “all the kids, and moms, are coming to see you,” you nudge him with a smirk on your lips.
He shakes his head, trying to fight his blush as he rolls his eyes at you. “You’re never gonna let me live that down, are you?”
You laugh at the memory of your first week here; everyday was a new woman coming over under the guise of welcoming the new neighbors to the neighborhood. You knew after the second platter of unexpected cookies that word was spreading fast about a certain super soldier taking up residence in their lovely - and expensive - neighborhood; you had sworn to Bucky you didn’t need to move into a place so big, and a part of you was worried you wouldn’t be able to pull your weight financially if you did, but he swore he would prefer it. You didn’t necessarily believe that was his only reason for wanting to spend more on a nicer place, but how could you argue? Especially after he made it clear that he wouldn’t be accepting any money from you for rent. He let you connect your card for the monthly water bill, but that has been it. And you’re absolutely not complaining! But you don’t know you ever imagined this kind of thing would happen.
Until the very day you moved in, you were constantly thinking you were dreaming. But when you noticed the watchful eyes of the neighbors as you brought your boxes in, you realized it couldn’t be.
This was real.
You couldn’t blame their curiosity, but you could blame their forwardness. The way they fawned over Bucky in front of you - all the while ignoring your eye when they’d come over to introduce themselves - was both irksome and, kind of funny.
You only really started to get annoyed when you noticed how uncomfortable it was making Bucky. At the first sign of his discomfort, you found yourself ushering the door shut with a new, outlandish lie every time. But always thanking them for their treats, of course, as you’d close the door.
It’s been almost seven months since you moved in, and the fascination with Bucky has waned slightly, but has yet to fade completely.
“Never,” you laugh. “But it’s not like it’s a bad thing. You, my love," you take his face in your hands, his stubble rough against your palms, "are very, very handsome,” you murmur. “And mysterious, and brooding to the outside eye. It’s hard to ignore you. You're like a magnet of intrigue. It's sexy.”
“Sexy?” He huffs. “I’m not brooding.”
You scoff, “Hah, I wish you could see your face right now,” you say disbelieving; the irony of his words obvious as the furrow of his brows and his frown cause your lips to twitch in a soft smirk.
He fixes his face at your laugh, eyeing you with that ever familiar glimmer of growing want. His hands cover yours as he walks you back, closer to the house.
"So, you think I'm sexy?" he speaks lowly, his grip on you firm as he slides your hands from his face to his chest, down his thick torso as you watch him - your eyes growing heavy as you watch him. It's like you're in a trance.
Your back suddenly hits the front door and you're snapped out of your state, surprised by the contact and even more by the distance you've walked in what felt like a second.
"Yes," you utter after a second, Bucky pressing closer. "I do." Your fingers flex against his abdomen as he leans into you. His nose brushes yours as he teases you with the prospect of his kiss until the door unexpectedly opens behind you; Bucky having turned the knob with his metal hand from around you.
You gasp at the loss of contact with the door, inching back despite yourself - worrying for a split second you were about to find yourself on your ass. But in the same instant, Bucky's hands are around you, keeping you in place.
"I got you," he reassures you; voice deeper now than it was a second ago.
You can only nod as you’re caught once again in his crystal blue gaze.
You really should expect it when he picks you up, but you gasp anyway at his easy display of strength when he takes you off your feet and carries you inside.
“It’s a good thing you don’t have a costume, actually,” he says as he walks past the couch toward the stairs. “No need for you to be dressed.”
You nearly scream as Bucky bounds up the steps, holding you securely with a grin plastered on his face as you cling to him. Not a second later he’s walking you into the bedroom and setting you down carefully to sit on the bed.
“If we’re handing out candy, I’m gonna need to be dressed,” you point out the obvious, trying your best to not look so flustered as he stands in front of you. Tall, strong, and imposing; his eyes darkened as he holds your gaze. You take in a nervous breath as you look up at him and he takes a step closer. You lean back on your arms and wait for his next move.
Bucky slows gets to his knees before you and just as he reaches for your hips to pull you closer to him - there’s a knock on the front door.
He squeezes his eyes shut in his temporary disappointment, grimacing before he shoots up. “I knew that was gonna happen,” he sighs, earning a breathy laugh from you.
“Already got a better turnout than last year,” you offer despite your own momentary disappointment.
He shakes his head with a soft smile as he takes you in. “Nothing could ever beat the turnout last year,” he says thoughtfully, “not by a long shot.”
You smile softly at his meaning as he turns to head back downstairs and get the door.
You hear him open the kitchen cabinet where the candy bars are and then hear his ‘Happy Halloween’ greeting. By the sounds of it, there must be a group or two of trick or treaters already out there.
You ponder your options for a quick second before deciding to go with your gut. You know he won’t mind having to get the door himself tonight for all the trick or treaters - especially if you’re not dressed to do so yourself.
You open the middle drawer of your dresser and spot the red lingerie set instantly. It is your anniversary after all…
You and Bucky agreed to call November 1st your anniversary, just for celebration sake, but you know the truth.
Your thoughts catch up with you as you quickly strip and mindlessly slide on the lacy underwear and bra.
Your anniversary. Duh! You wondered why you hadn’t seen much of Bucky this week! He’s usually so attentive and when he’s not working on his bike or car or catching up on the many items of his list to read/watch/listen to, he’s wrapped up in you. Retiree life has been good to him, and you’ve never had to vie for his attention or affection. This week though, he has clearly been preoccupied. And now you realize why. He’s up to something…
You drag the stockings up your legs and pray they stay up your thick thighs for long enough as you hear the door downstairs shut. You curse under your breath but are quickly saved by another knock at the door before Bucky even heads back up the steps. You forget looking for the straps that connect the faux garter to the underwear and head for the bathroom to make sure you don’t look insane.
You fix your hair a bit, but the worn look suits the occasion and the slightly smudged liner adds to the sex appeal. You adjust the bra strap on your shoulder and a flicker of a smile forms on your lips. You look good. A renewed sense of giddy finds you as you spin to the door and walk back into the room. You listen for Bucky downstairs and are satisfied as you hear the last “thank you!” from the kids at the door.
You walk out into the hall and stop at the top of the staircase. You can see Bucky from where you stand and he’s able to see you from downstairs, too. You put a hand on the banister, posing just a bit as you wait patiently for him to turn around. You watch as he sets the bowl on the entryway table and turns quickly to get back upstairs.
He stops dead in his tracks the second he spots you. His mouth parting as he stares at your chest, slowly letting his eyes rove over your scantily clad curves and down your legs before he looks back up and meets your wanton gaze. The look of faux innocence playing on your face only riling him up more.
It feels like a play of cat and mouse as you stand at the top of the stairs and he stands at the bottom. His gaze heated, eyes hungry.
“You coming back up or should I meet you down there?” you ask demurely.
He’s cut off from answering you with a new knock on the door. He nearly growls and you could laugh at how differently his experience with trick or treaters - or lack there of - was last year.
Bucky turns back to get the door, putting on a smile as he greets the new group of kids and lets them choose what candy bar they’d like. For his part, he really is happy the neighborhood kids aren’t scared of him here! But at the same time, it’s technically his anniversary; and the love of his life is dressed in nothing more than his favorite lingerie, waiting for him so fucking prettily right up those stairs.
He doesn’t think much before making his decision. The last kid makes their choice and the group is on their way as he shuts the door. He heads into the kitchen, feeling you watch him quizzically. He tears a piece of paper off of the notepad on the counter and gets a sharpie from the kitchen drawer.
PLEASE TAKE ONE
He writes it in all caps and heads back to the door.
You lean more onto the banister to see what he’s doing from where you stand. You raise a brow as he moves the entryway table closer to the door before he opens it and sets it outside with the candy bowl sitting on top of it. That’s one way to do it, you think with a smile tugging at your lips.
Bucky slips the piece of paper under the edge of the bowl so it’s visible and then comes right back inside. He’s coming up the stairs within seconds and heading right for you.
You laugh in surprise as Bucky grabs you by the waist, pulling you close to him. His eyes are heavy as his hands squeeze you, wandering your curves. You almost moan when he grabs your ass, pulling you into him fully as you brace against his solid chest.
You’ll never get over how good it feels to be felt by him. His strength evident in his every touch, and yet so soft as he caresses you. His lips ghost your cheek and your ear as he breathes you in and you arch into him, wanting - needing more.
His fingers begin to play with the lace of your bra band, tickling you as he does. “My favorite,” he husks lowly, kissing your neck and sending a shiver through you as you pull at his shirt. “Special occasion?” he asks with a smirk.
Your hands find the waist of his pants, “None that I can think of,” you pretend to ponder.
You moan into him as Bucky suddenly kisses you hard. What you expect to be hot and fervent slows to something deeper and more intimate as you melt into him.
You inevitably have to pull away for air after a bit and murmur against his lips as he holds you, “Oh, right,” you breathe, “we have our anniversary.”
“Thought you wanted to call it tomorrow,” he smiles.
You lick your lip lightly with a shrug, “Couldn’t wait.”
His answer is another searing kiss as he walks you back toward the room. You’re pushed onto the bed and find yourself in the same position you were earlier, leaning back on your hands as you watch Bucky watching you.
He reaches down with one hand and undoes his belt effortlessly, popping his button and sliding down the zipper before he pulls his shirt over his head and tosses it aside, kicking off his boots right after. His pants are next before he closes in on you, crawling on top of you as you lay back on the bed, eyes still locked and dark with your mutual desire.
His hands trail from your hips, up the curve of your waist as he positions himself between your spread thighs.
“You’re so perfect,” he murmurs, more to himself than to you as he lets his eyes wander your body once more. He leans down and earns a breathy gasp from you as he starts placing soft kisses down your neck, your chest, over the tops of your breasts before he takes hold of the clasp of the bra sitting on your sternum.
He undoes it easy and pushes the cups to the side, revealing you to him. You sit up a bit to shimmy out of the garment and throw it off the bed. His large hands hold your breasts and he plays with you, squeezing and running his thumbs over your already peaked nipples - earning a pathetic mewl from you at the sensation it send through you. His lips wrap around your tit, tongue swirling around your sensitive nipple as he sucks at you, sending your eyes back and your hands grasping his grown out hair. Your lips parting in a silent gasp.
He licks and sucks at your tit, big hand playing with the other until he switches his attentions. All the while, your moans and tugs at his hair have him growing impossibly harder as his cock strains against his briefs.
He mindlessly grinds his hips against you and you whimper. “Please, Bucky,” you whine, trying to roll your hips against him in turn.
He sucks a little more on your tit before he moves down your body, leaving a trail of kisses in his wake. You’re partly surprised he listened to your ambiguous plea without teasing you just a little longer, but as his fingers pull at the band of your underwear, you realize he’s just as desperate as you.
It has been a long week; the longest you’ve gone without each other in the year you’ve been together.
Bucky pulls away to rid himself of his briefs, his thick cock hard and angry. You can practically feel your mouth salivate as the slickness between your thighs grows. Fuck, he’s perfect.
“Need it, Buck. Need you,” you plead, spreading your thighs even further as he leans back into you.
“I know, sweetheart,” he teases his cock head along your slit, “gonna give it to you, baby. Gonna give you what you need,” he promises.
He lines himself up to your entrance, pushing his tip just inside of you as you moan on a heavy breath.
You hum your pleasure, a delighted smile gracing your lips as he slowly pushes further in; his deep, heady breaths turning you on even more as his hands grip your hips.
“Feel good, doll?” He husks. “You’re squeezin’ me so tight,” he grunts. “Perfect fuckin fit,” he grits through his clenched jaw as he fucks you, his thickness stretching you with every thrust of his cock. Your walls clench his length as you moan - the feeling of being full of him, of his heavy balls slapping against your skin, the way his dirty words always set you off more than you’d ever expect… This is pure fucking heaven. You can’t help yourself. It's not very long before you find yourself already feeling so dangerously close to your undoing.
“Like you were made for me,” he growls, “made to take my fat fuckin cock just. like. this.” He punctuates each of his last few words with a hard thrust, hitting so deep you swear you’re seeing stars. You can do nothing but babble your agreement as your hands wander his body, one wandering back into the dark strands of his hair.
As much as you love holding him, you know how much he likes the feeling of you tugging at his growing strands, too; so you do just that.
His lips brush along your jaw as you tilt your head for him. His stubble tickling you in the best way.
“Never gonna get over how fucking good you feel wrapped around me. How goddamn beautiful you look under me. Fucked out and cock drunk the minute I get my dick inside your tight little pussy. Always so fucking wet for me, desperate for it.”
You swear you’re on the verge of tears as the coil in your tummy tightens more and more with his every word. Your legs are around him as he rolls his hips into you, his cock brushing all the right spots as he finds your lips. You’re moaning into his hot mouth as he kisses you. In sharp contrast to his words, it’s soft and sweet, his nose rubbing against yours as he moves his tongue expertly. His teeth gently nip at your lips as he pulls his face away for a second before pressing his forehead to yours. His hands are tight on your hips as he tries to control himself from getting carried away. A week is just too long and you’re both already reaching closer and closer to your ends.
“Fuck, I’m gonna cum,” he groans, sounding almost pained as his eyes squeeze shut, his thrusts growing the slightest bit erratic as you feel him tense above you.
“Come inside me,” you beg on a whimper. “Please, please,” you mewl. “Wanna feel you. Need it.”
The growl of curses that leave him as he fucks you deeper have your muscles tensing, your velvety walls clenching down around his length as the hair on his pelvis stimulates your sensitive clit with every roll of his hips. You’re a mess of moans and heady gasps as you cling to him, your body tight in the impossibly building pleasure as your toes curl and that coil finally snaps; white hot heat and sparks of overwhelming pleasure taking over you as you cum.
“Fuck,” Bucky moans, “that’s it, baby. So fuckin’ good. Look at you, so pretty coming for me,” he kisses you sloppily as your skin burns and your pussy flutters.
Your orgasm seems never ending as Bucky works you through it. His hands grasp at you, feeling your softness and bringing him closer to his own orgasm as your walls squeeze his cock while you cum.
His lips press to yours as he swallows your wanton sounds, kissing you hotly before licking into your mouth sensually. He keeps one hand on your hip to hold you where he needs you and brings the other to hold your face. He can’t get enough of your lips, your kiss, your taste. All the while rocking his hips into yours, his cock moving in and out of your slick, tight hole.
The pulsing of your sensitive walls around his length finally have him cumming hard. His seed hot and thick, spurting along your walls as he fills you up. Your name is both a curse and a prayer as it falls from his lips amidst sweet praises and filthy words. You’re panting and smiling through the growing overstimulation as Bucky’s thrusts slow but don’t completely stop just yet. His thumb brushes your cheek as he presses his forehead to yours again, his brilliant blue eyes glued to you before he leans in to brush his lips against yours.
You kiss him back, holding him to you with a hand still in his hair. Your kiss grows deeper as he thrust just once or twice more before stilling; his lips so soft as he slowly pulls away, breathing heavily.
He hisses so quietly you almost don’t hear it while he slides out of you at last, leaving you a dripping mess in his wake.
You stare at him as he looks entranced by the sight of your orgasms smeared all over you. You take a sharp breath as he gingerly brings two fingers to your cunt, slipping inside you easily and fucking what he can of his excess back into you. You expect him to stop but he just doesn’t.
He works his thick digits in and out, his mouth parted open and his eyes set on the way you suck him in so easily. You whine at the building pressure as he finger fucks you, already too close to another orgasm. Your hand is holding his strong arm as your eyes threaten to roll back.
“Bucky,” you whimper, “fuck, I’m gonna come again.”
Your words spur him on as he moves more precisely, hitting exactly where he knows you need him to. With his free hand, he brings his thumb to your clit and rubs in tight circles as your voice peaks and your legs shake. You’re nearly blinded by the orgasm as it hits you and the sound of Bucky cursing makes its way to your ears. You weren’t expecting it but as Bucky shakes his fingers inside you, prolonging your high like it’s the only thing in the world he’s concerned with - your pleasure, you - you realize you’re practically gushing as you squirt all over his fingers. You hear his voice but not his words as Bucky talks you through it.
It’s not the first time you’ve come so hard at his whim, but fuck, you’re exhausted as you slowly come down. You whimpered despite yourself as you open your eyes and Bucky gently slips out of you. He leans over you again as you gaze dizzily at him before he kisses you delicately.
“Did so good, sweetheart,” he mumbles against your skin, planting a sweet kiss on your cheek before he gets up off the bed completely.
You lie there, trying to recoup and catch your breath until he comes back not long after, a pair of his sweats low on his hips and a damp cloth in his hand, a glass of water in the other.
He sets the glass down on the bedside table before tending to you. He wipes gently at the mess between your legs, cleaning you up with the warm cloth before discarding it with the clothes and coming to sit next to where you lay.
“You okay?” He asks, that ever present concern evident in his voice as his hands gently start to wander your soft body.
You smile and nod at him, taking one of his hands in yours. “Better than okay,” you simper. “Was not expecting that,” you add, “but god.” You sit up and cling to him, resting your head on his shoulder. “That’s one way to celebrate a year.”
“Oh, sweetheart,” he laughs, turning to stand and pull you off the bed with him, “that wasn’t even the celebration.”
You smile and walk slowly to the closet to grab a night shirt, slipping it on before grabbing a pair of panties from your drawer. “I knew you were planning something,” you eye him playfully, coming up to wrap your arms around him.
He smirks, hugging you back for a second before just deciding to lift you up. “You get so cuddly after sex,” he laughs.
“Me?!” you laugh out, hugging onto him as he walks toward the door of your bedroom, “take a look in the mirror, buddy.”
“Fine,” he agrees, starting down the steps, “you’re right, we both do.”
“That’s just good compatibility,” you muse as he walks you into the den.
“Great compatibility,” he one ups. “It’s almost like,” he pauses a second, setting you down on the oversized sleeper chaise before he leans down to you, “we were made for each other.”
You lean up to meet his lips in a quick, gentle kiss. “Yeah,” you agree softly, a smile beginning to form on your lips. You bite your lip as you watch him go back out toward the front living room. He peeks out the window to make sure no one’s out there before he opens the door.
There's a pause as he takes in the scene outside...or lack thereof. “The candy’s gone!” He yells to you in disbelief.
You can’t help your snicker as he turns to look at you across the way, empty bowl in hand. He waves it, still seeming in shock; like this possibility never crossed his mind.
“Sorry, sweetheart,” you laugh, “but good thing you have like twelve more cases,” you remind him. He licks his lips as he stares at the empty bowl, shaking his head slightly. A second later, you see his brow raise as he starts to straighten up, but you aren't sure what he's reacting to until you hear her voice.
“Trick or treat,” a sultry voice comes from behind Bucky as he still stands at the open door. His eyes widen before he sighs, slowly turning to face the most persistent of his neighborly admirers.
You quirk a brow at her lack of company and strain to hear better.
“Sorry to bother,” she smiles, eyes dragging down Bucky’s solid - still shirtless - chest before she manages to rein herself in and snap her gaze back up to his. “I’m in the middle of mixing up some cookie dough but I ran out of flour. Paul and Michael are busy running their fun house or I’d have them go grab me a bag. Do you think you’d be able to lend me a cup?” You are slightly irked at the change of tone in her last question. She sounds flirty and though Bucky is mostly blocking her from your view, from what you can see, it seems like she’s leaning in closer to him. “We just had a rush of trick or treaters but it’s so quiet around here now. Paul’s so preoccupied with that set up though, I don’t even think he’d notice if I went missing,” she laughs, her toothy grin rubbing you the wrong way as her lashes flutter.
“Uh,” Bucky clears his throat awkwardly, “yeah, we probably have some flour we can spare. Give me a minute.”
“Oh, yo-“ she takes a step forward with her words but is cut off by the closing of the door.
You get up with a tilt of your head and follow Bucky into the kitchen quickly. “Did she just hit on you?” you ask incredulously.
Bucky eyes you as he sets the empty bowl on the counter and walks to the cabinet. “I could see how you could think that,” he avoids a real answer through his embarrassment.
You huff a laugh, walking to the drawer you keep the measuring cups in, grabbing the cup, smirking. “She is somethin’ else.” You sidle up to Bucky as he opens the jar of flour. You lean into him, holding out the cup for him to take, “But, I guess, who can blame her? You know what they say, you miss 100% of the shots you don’t take.”
Bucky chuckles with a roll of his eyes as he grabs it from you, scooping up the cup of flour. You’re confused as he tries to hand the cup back to you.
“What?”
“Go give it to her,” he nudges you.
“I’m not wearing pants,” you state the obvious.
“I don’t have a shirt on,” he argues.
“She already saw you,” you nudge him back with a titter.
“Please,” he breathes a light laugh, but you see the seriousness of his request in his eyes. His discomfort is evident, and you don’t know how you didn’t recognize it earlier.
You don’t know everything he went through, but you know enough to know how important Bucky’s privacy is to him - and that includes physically. He is the only one who should be able to decide who sees him, when, and how much of him they see. Of course, no one should be treated like an object, but you get the feeling it can feel a lot worse for Bucky than it can for the typical person.
You take the cup with a soft smile, “Okay, yeah,” you acquiesce. “You should open another box while you’re at it,” you nod toward the cabinet where the boxes of candy bars are before turning around to get the door.
You open it with a smile, trying to hide your bare legs with the door as you hold out the cup of flour. “There you go,” you offer.
“Oh! I didn’t, ha-“ she laughs lightly, “didn’t even realize you were home.” She looks down, moving some hair behind her ears before she reaches for the cup.
You smile brighter as you take a step from behind the door. “Yeah,” you say simply. What the hell does she mean she didn't think you were home?
“Well, thank you,” she smiles tightly, trying to not look at your bare legs. The implication of your and Bucky’s lack of clothing, his messed hair, and your smudged makeup all hanging in the air. “Happy Halloween,” she adds before turning around and heading back down the path.
“Mhm, Happy Halloween,” you return before shutting the door. Unbelievable. But you know you have less than nothing to worry about, so you let it go. Hopefully this interaction will finally be the one to get her off of Bucky's back.
You spin around and find Bucky behind you, eyes having been set on your ass as he holds the newly filled bowl of candy. His eyes shoot up to meet yours as you deprive him of the view. That heated gaze back in his ice blue eyes as he trails up and down your body again.
“See something you like?” You ask teasingly, popping a hip as you cross one leg in front of the other.
“Not something,” he swipes his tongue against his bottom lip unthinking, “everything.”
You go closer to him, a soft, flattered smile in place as you take the bowl of candy from him. “Why don’t you go pick a movie, and I’ll start on dinner in a minute.”
“I already ordered delivery, should be here in about half an hour.”
“Oh?” you raise a brow, reaching back to the door to put out the candy again.
“Mhm,” he hums, his hand in his pocket as he leans, watching you as you close the door shut and turn back to him.
“I thought you said we’d do whatever I wanna do tonight?”
“‘M sorry, doll,” he reaches a hand to you that you take, letting him tug you into him and walk you back into the den. “What do you wanna do?”
You try to bite down your smile as you get to the chaise, Bucky turning to look at you as he waits for your answer. You take the opportunity to slowly push him back, essentially guiding him down as your push had no real physical effect. He watches you with curious, patient eyes as he lets you lead until you bring yourself up to straddle him; his gaze darkening instantly as his hands find your waist, slowly feeling you down, fingers kneading your soft, plushy curves as he wanders down your hips, making his way to grabbing your ass.
You settle a little more comfortably on top of him, your hands on his chest before letting your fingers dance all over his thick torso. You smile, letting yourself answer simply and honestly.
“You.”
You’re cuddled up to Bucky as you lay on the chaise, bellies full and feeling satiated and satisfied - in every way. The blanket keeps you warm, but being this close to Bucky keeps you even warmer. You’ve run out of candy, and the porch lights are out as the Halloween classic plays on the screen before you - volume low as you and Bucky talk more than you watch the film.
“It’s kinda crazy when you think about it,” you say. “We’ve been together for essentially the entire time we’ve known each other. I’m surprised you haven’t gotten tired of me yet,” you laugh a little at yourself.
He looks you deep in the eye, a confused half smile on his lips as his brows furrow ever so slightly. “How could I ever get tired of you? You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me, doll.”
You are taken aback, despite the commonplace of his adamant affection and feelings, at the intense sincerity of his words, the way he’s looking at you. Like he sees you.
Really see you.
Because he does. And somehow, for whatever reason…
“I love you,” he whispers, completing your thought without knowing it as he leans in to kiss you. Your noses brush as he kisses you softly, slow and delicate before it grows just that much deeper. You slow again and with a few lighter kisses, finally part to breathe properly, though you never leave his embrace.
“I’ve had a year with you,” he speaks softly, running his fingers up and down your arm, “and it’s been one of the best years of my life,” he measures his words before finishing his thought as you gaze up at him, “because of you. And I think I’m gonna need a lifetime more,” he decides, “at least.”
You can’t help your smile at his words as you nuzzle into him. “A lifetime, huh? ...I think I could be okay with that,” you say lowly, a teasing tone edging in your words.
You know you’d be okay with that.
Bucky’s heart skips a beat at your agreement and he grows a bit more excited for what he has planned for tomorrow. It all starts with breakfast, and if things go right, it’ll end with one very important question.
“Happy anniversary, Bucky,” you mumble into him as your eyes grow heavy. “I love you. So much. This has been a really perfect night,” you smile softly.
“Happy anniversary, sweetheart,” he kisses your head, holding you closer as you slowly drift off in his loving embrace.
Your gentle breathing calms the butterflies in his stomach at the thought of tomorrow. Any nerves can wait until then.
It’s been a year, and now he can’t wait for the rest of his life.
With you.
—-
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a/n that no one asked for: thank you so much for reading! getting ahead of this now - there will not be a part three. this took so long to get through and i just can’t commit to any more sequels of anything. 😭 you are, of course, free to head canon what comes next however you’d like! though if you’re curious, in my mind these two get engaged the next day and idk maybe sometime around Christmas they find out they’re pregnant? but babies or no babies, work works out for reader and everything is good and lovely and they make friends and are able to see family more often and blah blah blah they live happily ever after! lol again, thank you very much for reading!🥰 let me know if you enjoyed it, feel free to share your thoughts. <3
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enwoso · 1 day ago
Note
What about a part to of for the better please? With Lovies reaction to Less scoring against united (and when Leah was shoved into the dug out👀🤣) from todays game ❤️
THE GREATEST — alessia russo x child!reader
honestly never wrote a fic so quick but i loved this request thought it was so cute☺️
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grumpy masterlist
it was that time of the season, again. arsenal come against manchester united on manchester soil. alessia wasn’t as bothered this time around, her departure from the reds was buried and wasn’t as fresh and raw as it had been this time last year.
still, it brought some unwanted feelings coming up against her old club especially one she started her professional career at.
you on the other hand, since learning it was time for team to make the long journey up north and back to leigh sport village you had a frown plastered across your face.
you used to love being and watching your mummy play at leigh sports village but now you liked your new home in north london. you didn’t dislike manchester by any means especially since you sometimes made the journey with your mummy to see your auntie ella which was one of the few good things about manchester.
“so what’s so awful about manchester, that’s got you frowning like that tiny?” emily asked with a playful smile as she was sat opposite you on the team bus having been playing card with your mummy while you sat watching a frown plastered across your lips getting deeper and deeper as the bus made its way up the road.
“manchester is mean.” you said bluntly as a small chuckle came from your mummy who was sitting beside you as she took a sip of her water.
“you liked it there, when we lived there?” your mummy pointed out as you only hummed crossing your arms across your chest — well tried to. alessia trying to also figure out what and why you were in such a strop about going up to manchester for.
“you used to tell me all about your life in manchester on facetime, and how much you loved it” emily said as she recounted some of the memories of when her and less would facetime and you would babble about your days in manchester long before the american moved to north london.
“yep but that not home anymore, manchester is mean” you mumbled sliding down the chair as you huffed, a small look of realisation flashing across alessia’s face as to why you were in such a strop.
“oh lovie the fans have gotten over that now” alessia assured you as she side hugged you, you sighed not knowing whether to believe what your mummy was telling you or not.
“still” you grumbled as alessia shook her head playfully as emily grinned at your innocence as you went back to watched your show now that you were cuddled into the side of your mummy.
“she’s so dramatic-“
-
finally, the game had rolled around after it feeling like you’d been in manchester for days not when really it had been less than twenty four hours. walking by your mummy’s side as she wheeled her small suitcase in, a backpack most likely filled with more of your things in than your mums which hung from her shoulder.
people stood at the entrance, shouting and screaming the players which walked past as some shouted your name as you walked past with your mum, you giving the odd shy wave before walking into the stadium.
“lovie- where are you- oh” alessia called out as she felt you let go of her hand, your small steps could be heard as you rushed over and jumped into the arms of a very familiar face, one you’d just said goodbye to a couple a days ago from england camp.
“tooney!” you cheered as she spun you around a big grin on the united players’ face. “i’ve missed you, tiny” ella smiled as she stopped still, players walking past saying a small hi either to you or tooney.
you furrowed your brow, “i seen you two days ago though?” you said as a small giggled left ella’s lips as she realised you hadn’t understood what she meant.
“am i not allowed to miss my favourite russo!” ella quipped back as she tickled under your chin making you squirm in her arms as alessia caught up with you, stopping mere metres away from ella as she side hugged the manchester united player.
“i missed you too auntie ella” you admitted lowly, as you hugged her tight. ella rubbing your back as a soft smile came across alessia’s face. yours and ella’s bond being one of the best kind, so cute and pure and alessia loved it.
“and anyways missus i thought you said you would wear your united shirt for me today!” ella gasped as she replayed the conversation the two got of you had on england camp, you telling ella the next game you watched her play in you would wear your old united shirt — which would definitely and most likely be too small for you.
you shook your head with a firm hum, “north london forever!” you grinned tapping the badge which was displayed on your chest. it drawing a few chuckles from both alessia and ella.
“you’ve changed your tune!” ella joked but she knew since the move how much you’d fell in love with arsenal and north london. but manchester would always be somewhere in your heart.
“well i suppose it’s better than being a blue” ella shrugged as she laughed at her own little joke before saying her goodbyes, kissing your forehead and letting you back down on the ground. yours waving goodbye to ella as she promised she’d find you after the game.
you holding back onto your mummy’s hand as she led you into the away changing room. in your mind this was the worst part of game day, the waiting around for the game to actually start as you always wondered why they needed two whole hours to get ready.
but nevertheless you waited making your own entertainment along the way, walking with steph and kyra as they went out onto the pitch. your mummy opting on going to get treatment just before the warm ups.
joking on a little as you ran up and down the touchline as they warmed up before having a very serious conversation with fred the red as he danced around and waved at the fans in the stands. the mascot you used to love.
but then it was time for the team to go back into the changing room as you scared beth as she came rushing off the pitch, small giggles coming from you as she chased you back inside.
as you sat back down on the bench, coming down from your high energy state. catching your breath from all the running around you’d done, you’d think you had just ran around for ninety minutes.
your mummy was fixing up her hair as you watched fondly, “mummy?”
“yes baby” your mummy cooed as she tied the bobble into her hair before kneeling down so she could hear you among the loud chatter and the music which was booming through the speakers.
“what happen if you score today?” you asked as it had been on your mind the past day or two, you wondering if the goal would count towards united or arsenal. your brain getting a little confused.
alessia’s brow furrowed, not quite getting what you meant, “what do you mean by that lovie?”
“well cause you played for united will it be their goal” you asked your tone laced with confusion as alessia’s brow softened as she realised what you now meant.
your mummy firmly shaking her head as her hands rested on your knees as you sat on the bench, “no lovie, it’ll be an arsenal goal cause that’s who i play for now” your mummy explained as she pointed to the jersey you were wearing as you nodded along as your mummy continued her explanation using her when she scored for england as an example.
you hummed in realisation as you brain now made sense of your doubts, “will you score today?” you asked as alessia laughed a little shrugging her shoulders — she wishes she could see the future.
“i’ll try score just for you, prove the booing wrong ay?” your mummy grinned as she tapped your knees feeling you tense up at the mention of the booing knowing italy you experience some pretty big feelings the last time. but your mummy was quick to reassure you before placing a soft kiss on the top of your head as she stood back up.
the exciting part of the day had finally arrived where you could watch the match, one you’d been excited for the build up but not the actually match itself. this time though you found yourself sat with kyra instead of leah, that and the fact leah was back on the pitch playing again.
sat in the dugout, a blanket over your legs which kyra had given you as your arsenal jersey was now covered with a hoodie your mummy had insisted on you wearing much to your complaints that you didn’t need it.
but as always your mummy won the argument as the moment you came from the warmth of the changing room you were complaining that you were cold, so your mummy quickly got your hoodie placing over your head and sliding it down so it sat perfectly in you.
so instead you had to settle for the arsenal scarf around your neck all with white and red letters of arsenal plastered across it as you way of showing your support for the team.
the first half you can’t lie was a little boring, no goals being scored but your mummy did come close a few times. after he first attempt in the 12’ minute you tapped kyra on the shoulder, the australian peeling her eyes away from the pitch to listen to you.
“my mummy said she was gonna score to today!” you proudly smiled as kyra nodded along agreeing, “well it is looking likely tiny!”
but it was very likely to happen in the first half as it ended still with neither team scoring so when the team finally came out for the second half, you were a little more eager to watch. hoping the goal from your mummy was coming.
so in the 63’ minute when mariona played the lovely pass to emily who crossed it to alessia, you were on your feet in seconds when you seen the net bulge. your mummy didn’t celebrate with her aeroplane arms like she usually did instead a small yes slipped from her lips as she pointed over to the dugout, mainly to you before all the girls engulfed her in a group hug and head taps.
that was your mummy’s last action of the day as she was subbed off shortly after, kyra having been subbed on in place with the other girls who came off.
alessia getting her jacket and wrapping it around her arms to shield herself from the manchester coldness as she made a beeline to sit next to you in the dugout. you launching yourself to her the moment she was close.
your mummy wrapping you in a hug as you explained your view of the goal and your excitement fueling through your small limbs as your arms flung around explains it.
“t’was all for you, lovie” your mummy whispered against your hair as she placed a gentle kiss on-top of your head you hugged your mum tightly as your eyes wondered back to the pitch.
the game unfortunately after alessia’s goal wasn’t over, far from it actually, manchester united threw on some subs and were looking likely to score.
alessia glanced up to the clock as you sat on her lap, watching intently. your fingers in your mouth something you did when you were concentrating on something.
rachel williams had made a breakthrough as leah ran to catch her except, leah got a shove in the shoulder knocking her to the ground and quite literally off the pitch as she rolled and hit the dugout.
you not seeing the initial shove as you were too busy looking at the fans who were shouting and yelling their chants you trying to decipher the words. so when you seen leah on the ground, lying on her back you let out a loud laugh.
“le!” you called out as leah stood to her feet waving at you as she mouthed to alessia that she was okay, “your supposed to be playing football not having a nap!” you yelled after as leah was looking over her shoulder walking gingerly back to the sideline as the medical team crowded around her.
a small gasp coming from your mummy as she bumped your shoulder giving you a stern look for your cheekiness as leah just laughs at your cheeky comment running back onto the pitch.
the match ended not in the way you wanted which kind of damped the mood but nevertheless, you were able to run about a little as your mummy was off signing things.
“le!” you called out as you ran after leah as she was walking away from some fans, your mummy watching you intently as she spoke to some fans, busy signing shirts, books and phone cases.
“you okay, tiny?” leah smiled as you ran into her arms, leah throwing you up in the air and catching you making you squeal as she did, falling back into her arms giggling.
“are you okay after your fall?” you asked, your mummy after you cheeky comment filled you in on the fact leah hadn’t gone for a nap mid game like you thought but instead had been nudged over, you feeling slightly bad about your comment.
“course i am, just a little graze!” leah waved it off as you let out a sigh of relief, “next time i’ll just have to stay on my two feet” leah joked as you nodded.
“cause you spend too much time with mummy as she really clumsy!” you so innocently said as a laugh rippled through leah, you not being in the slightest bit wrong. as alessia could trip over thin air and still land on the floor.
“is that so?” leah questioned as you nodded proudly, totally forgetting that you yourself was also born with two left feet as like your mum you also found your self tripping over thin air.
leah just laughed at your response as she watched ella walk over to the two of you.
“leah do you think i can convince less to let tiny stay with me, we have a movie night in the books which is planned for tonight sharpish!” ella smiled as you nodded along, this being something you had planned during england camp but had yet been able to convince your mummy of — as a result of alessia not being any of the wiser of said movie night.
“um i dunno know you’ll have the ask the boss lady herself” leah shrugged as you wriggled out of her hold, tugging on ella’s hand as she tried to pull you in the opposite direction of your mummy.
“c’mon tooney, my mummy’s this way!”
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muniimyg · 2 days ago
Text
𐙚₊˚⊹ bbydaddy!yoongi (7) ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹
series m.list // taglist
note: yoongi and oc have the what r we talk,, have a few awh moments,, and r jus so cute... anyways,, my apologies as i'll be fixing my taglist next week ,, too busy n just trying to push out content lol !!! also PLEASE BE SURE TO LEAVE UR @ IN THE COMMENT BOX FOR SPECIFIC FIC TAGLIST STUFF (in the taglist form)
EDIT: mochi < injeolmi
//
as yoongi stands outside your door with a plastic bag swinging in one hand—all he can really think about is how amused he is from the 2AM craving text.
he takes a breath, raises his hand to knock, but the door opens before he can and there you stand with puffy cheeks streaked with the telltale signs of crying. 
his smile drops instantly.
“hey,” yoongi’s voice softens, concern etching into his features. “___, what happened? w-why are you crying?”
you try to muster a smile but fail. your lips tremble as you glance at the bag in his hand. letting out a shaky laugh, you wipe your face and take a deep breath in. 
“i don’t even really want pickles and peanut butter,” you admit. “i just… it’s… this isn’t about a pregnancy craving, yoongi.” 
yoongi’s brows knit together and he steps forward. closing the space between you two, suddenly you feel a rush of guilt. 
“okay, then what is it about?” his voice is gentle. he places the bag on the floor so he can rest a hand on your arm, grounding and reassuring. "everything okay? you okay?"
you looks up at him, eyes glassy and full of a vulnerability. 
“i just…” you take another breath, steadying yourself. “i didn’t know how to tell you i wanted you here. just you. no excuses, no weird cravings.”
yoongi’s eyes widen, confusion and something else flashing across his face.
“wait—you could’ve just asked me to come over. i would’ve dropped everything to be here. you know that, right?”
a tear slips down your cheek. shaking your head, a sad smile forms. 
“yeah. we’re friends, yoongi, but we’re not friends.” you say, emphasizing the word. a pang of bitterness lingers. “we’re not close like that. i guess i’m just freaking out because as much as i want this—fuck, i want this so bad… i’m upset that i’m having a baby with someone i can’t even ask to come over without making up an excuse. does that make sense?”
yoongi’s heart clenches. 
he’s struck speechless for a moment. then he sighs and runs his hand through his hair. 
“i get it,” he says quietly. his hand still rests on your arm. he squeezes it lightly. “can i come in? let’s talk about this please.”
you nod and move aside for him. 
yoongi steps into your apartment, closing the door softly behind him.
he heads to the kitchen, methodically placing the jars of pickles and peanut butter on the counter. his movements are slower than usual as the weight of the moment settles in. 
when he turns, he watches you retreat toward your bedroom and for a second—confusion prickles at the back of his mind. 
why aren’t we sitting in the living room? he wonders. 
he’s never been inside your bedroom before. 
… but he follows you anyway, trailing behind you like a shadow.
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the room feels more intimate than he expected.
the walls holding a quiet familiarity, but also the tension of something unspoken. you two stand there for a beat, the silence stretching until you blurt out;
“s-sorry. uh, the couch makes my back hurt if i sit there too long. i’m more comfortable in here. is that okay?” 
yoongi takes in your words, a small pang of concern for her comfort, and nods, his usual nonchalance cracking just a bit. 
then, you both settle on the bed.
the awkwardness between you two is palpable. yoongi braces himself for the conversation they both know is coming, hoping the closeness will bridge the distance they’ve been struggling to cross.
“are you regretting this?” you ask, voice quiet and afraid. 
yoongi shakes his head instantly. 
“no. i’m not,” he answers. “are you?”
you also shake your head. 
“no… but, i do wish i thought it through more.” 
he titls his head. “specifically about what? about me?”
you bite bottom lip, trying to find the words to explain how you feel about him. how you feel about everything between you two…
and it’s hard.
it’s difficult because you never had to think twice about yoongi and your friendship.
friends. 
until sometimes, when you two are alone.. it’s friends. 
“let’s be honest,” yoongi begins, cutting your thoughts short. “we’ve always had this weird… in-between thing. but if you need me, you don’t have to make excuses. i’m already here, aren't i? and i’m committed to the baby—our baby. to you, even… so, tell me where your headspace is at. i’ll match it. i’ll place myself in between where you need me and where i want to be for you. you just have to tell me what you want, ___.”
you look at him, eyes searching his for something… then, yoongi continues, his voice sincere and steady.
“we’re about to have a child together, yeah, but more than that… i care about you. always have. so, please don’t think that you have to put up walls or hide what you need from me, okay? i want to see through it. i want to see through you.”
you take a breath, relief washing over her as you nod. 
“okay.” 
and in that small word, a bridge starts to form between them—something real and raw and hopeful.
you and yoongi have never been close. 
there has never been a moment where you were in trouble and thought to yourself; shit i need yoongi’s help.
no. 
there was always hyemi, nam joon, jin, hoseok, jimin, taehyung and jungkook before yoongi. not that you liked him the least—if anything; considering the current happenings—maybe you like him the most. but besides that, you two are truly just decent friends. 
everyone in the friendgroup is. 
you laugh at the same jokes, make fun of nam joon when he says something ridiculous, and have each other’s backs when needed—but that’s it. 
or at least it should be.
again, until you’re alone together... then, it’s different. 
there’s this undercurrent.
something unspoken that takes all makes it hard to breathe. it’s the way he leans in when he’s talking to you. it’s the subtle touches he probably doesn’t think about… all these vague flirting moments leave you second-guessing… but you know what is it. you know who he is. 
and that’s what’s confusing. 
in the midst of this in-between—you don’t know how to word what he makes you feel. 
safe?
nervous?
loved?
and now with the baby; it should be more complicated. everything in your life feels more complicated but somehow; what you are—or what you aren’t—hasn’t changed at all. 
you’re still friends.
friends. 
“can we talk about this?” you speak out. “like first… what are we?”
yoongi’s eyes widen. 
he wasn’t ready for this question, but he also doesn’t hate it. he’s been wanting to know too. he’s been thinking about it too. 
“what do you want us to be?” 
you gulp, not knowing if he’ll like the answer you’re about to give. 
“friends,” you tell him. “is that ridiculous?”
yoongi shrugs. “only if you make it to be.”
“it’s just… i feel like i need to get to know you more. i didn’t even save your number in my phone until last year. we’ve been friends for over 3 years, yoongi… also, i don’t know your favourite colour. i don’t know your birthdate because i always confuse it with hobi’s… yours is in february, right?”
“march.”
you throw your head back, letting out a sharp and loud hiss. 
“fuck—s-see what i mean?” you take a breath and regulate. then, you reach for his hand and squeeze it. “i’m sorry. we’ve been decent friends but truth be told sometimes i feel like a stranger to you. i didn’t think this through—”
“it’s fine,” yoongi says, patting your back. “we’re not complete strangers. you know things about me, ___. don’t act like you don’t just because you’re scared. and, you know what? we can get to know each other more as the pregnancy goes on. besides, once the baby comes out—you’re stuck with me for life. i mean, it’s our baby.”
your lips curve into a small smile. 
“is our baby gonna have two cribs?” you blurt. “hyemi made a passing comment and for some reason i keep picturing it. two cribs.. two sets of clothes.. two homes.. two car seats—”
“one then,” yoongi simplifies it for you. “move in with me or i move in with you.”
you blink at him. 
“...hear me out,” yoongi says, voice calm but his eyes serious, holding yours as if he’s trying to make sure every word sticks. “we already spend so much time together—in our friendgroup setting at least… and i know it won’t be perfect. we’ll annoy each other, i’m sure, but it’ll be easier. for both of us. we won’t have to juggle back and forth or worry about where the baby should be or whose place has what.”
you swallow. 
the image of two cribs still lingering in your mind, mixing with the new picture he’s painting—one home, one set of everything, a shared life that feels both thrilling and terrifying. 
“yoongi…” you start, your voice wavering. “it’s not just about convenience. moving in together means… a lot. and what if we make things harder? what if it complicates everything more than it should?”
he nods, understanding the hesitation even as he inches a little closer, his presence grounding you. 
“i get that,” he says. “but we’ve already made things complicated, haven’t we?” his lips curve into a small, almost hopeful smile. “this way, at least, we’ll be complicated together. and if it doesn’t work, we’ll figure it out, for the baby’s sake. we owe it to them—and to ourselves—to at least try.”
you want to say yes.
to fall into this idea of a shared space, of yoongi always being just a few steps away, but the weight of uncertainty keeps you frozen. 
“i don’t know,” you murmur, dropping your gaze to your hands. “it’s a big step… and i’m scared of what it could mean… for us.”
yoongi reaches over, his fingers brushing lightly against yours. 
“i’m scared too,” he admits softly. “but i’d rather try and fail than not try at all. just… think about it, okay? no pressure. maybe a timer though. baby is coming soon.”
you finally look up, meeting his eyes, the sincerity there chipping away at your worries. a small, reluctant smile tugs at your lips. 
“hahaha… okay. yeah, i’ll think about it,” you promise, and the room feels a little lighter, hope lingering between you both. "... what if we buy baby things and leave it at yours? i think... i do want to move in with you. i think your points make sense and honestly? i've been thinking about us a lot... let's just do it slowly, okay?"
yoongi leans back slightly, studying your expression before he continues. 
“okay, if we’re doing this, I want to do it right,” he says, the seriousness of his tone making you focus. “since we're confessing.. truth be told, i’ve been struggling with this entire thing too. ___, i don’t want to be the dad who just shows up when it’s convenient or only takes half the responsibility. until we figure out the whole moving-in thing… i need you to keep me in the loop. not even the loop—in it. everything, okay? every appointment, every little thing the doctor says. even if it’s something silly, like craving pickles at 2 in the morning, call me. i want to be here. i meant it when i said i need you to figure out how to need me.” 
you nod slowly, his words settling into your chest. the way he’s looking at you—it’s like he’s already preparing himself for every moment he might miss if you don’t.
“and i'm serious about appointments,” yoongi adds, his voice softening just a little, the corners of his lips turning up in a small smile. “i want to know every detail. hear the heartbeat, see the ultrasounds, even if it means i have to reschedule work. screw it, honestly. you and baby are my priority… i’m gonna do everything to make you know that you deserve to feel like we’re doing this together.”
a lump forms in your throat, and you swallow, feeling the weight of his commitment. 
“you really mean that,” you say quietly, more to yourself than him. “yoongi…”
“of course, i do.” he pauses, his eyes holding yours with that steady, unwavering calm. “we might not be close, but this baby deserves two parents who are trying their best. and maybe…” he hesitates, his voice dropping lower. “maybe this will help us become more than just friends who share stolen glances. more than whatever weird, in-between thing we have.”
a beat.
“shit, do we have to talk about that now?”
he laughs. 
“no,” he shrugs. “i’m not in a rush. i’m cool with taking things slow. i have a lifetime with you anyway. also have a feeling you'll be moved in with me in a week or two.”
you roll your eyes and he chuckles.
then, you’re silent for a moment, processing the vulnerability he’s showing, the way he’s extending himself for both you and the baby. 
“okay,” you finally say. “i’ll call more. i’ll update you on everything. breakfast and prenatals and all.”
yoongi snickers at you. “... and when we’re finally living together… we’ll figure out a routine that works for both of us. we’ll make it as easy as possible… for all three of us.”
before you know it, you launch yourself at him.
you wrap your arms around his neck and he wraps his around your torso, returning the hug without hesitations. for a moment, it feels safe, like he’s anchoring you to something solid amidst all the uncertainty.
when you pull away, you glance up at him, nerves tightening in your chest. 
“can you… stay the night?” you ask, your voice softer than you mean it to be. “i guess that’s what i meant with the pickles and peanut butter.”
yoongi snorts at you. 
“i knew it.”
he earns a hit to his chest, but he takes it like a champ. even though he’s teasing you, there’s something so reassuring in the way he says it. 
“i'm already in my pajamas... i’ll just use the bathroom real quick. be right back.”
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as yoongi makes his way to the bathroom, he flicks on the light and notices the little details of your life scattered around the sink. toothpaste, skincare products, and…
a blue toothbrush placed neatly next to yours. 
his heart stumbles at the sight, realization washing over him. 
it’s for him. 
you had thought about him even in the smallest of ways, planning for him to be here.
what the fuck is his heart supposed to do with this?
it tugs.
it skips a beat.
it races.
it falls for you a little more.
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when he returns to your bedroom, he finds you already lying in bed, looking smaller and more vulnerable under the soft glow of the bedside lamp. he hesitates, unsure of how to fit into this space with you. the silence stretches awkwardly between you both as he slips under the covers.
neither of you knows quite how to lie together. 
you both fidget, trying not to make it more awkward, until you shift uncomfortably, a small wince escaping your lips. 
“ugh,” you mumble, “my back hurts.”
yoongi is at your side instantly. his nonchalant demeanor slipping away as he sits up. 
“here, let me help,” he murmurs, carefully guiding you to reposition. his hands are gentle but firm as he encourages you to lie partially against him, your body leaning into his. he wraps his arms around your belly, cradling you and the baby, and nuzzles his face into the curve of your neck. the warmth of his breath sends a small shiver down your spine, but it melts away as you sink into his embrace.
you both stay still, letting the comfort settle in. slowly, the awkwardness ebbs, replaced by a sense of calm as you relax against him.
just as you’re on the edge of sleep, you murmur something faintly. 
“yoongi?”
“mhmm?
“injeolmi...” you whisper.
yoongi stirs, confused. 
“huh?” he whispers back, trying not to disturb you too much. “are you craving injeolmi? i’ll get you some tomorrow–”
you smile sleepily, eyes already closed. 
“no.. our baby looks like injeolmi,” you explain, your words trailing off into drowsiness. “the ultrasound… injeolmi. let’s call our baby injeolmi for now.”
yoongi heart squeezes at the endearing name, a small smile tugging at his lips. 
“injeolmi,” he repeats, pressing a soft kiss into your hair. “okay. baby injeolmi it is.”
wrapped in each other’s warmth, you both drift off, with yoongi holding you close. all he thinks about before falling asleep is;
baby injeolmi, you are so loved.
250 notes · View notes
aboutcustardcreams · 21 hours ago
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Until next time
Agathario x reader
The scene in the forest where Agatha delivered the baby is living in my head rent free and I just couldn't resist the urge to write an os about it. Rewrite, actually. It's my first Agatha's fic, so I'm pretty excited. Hope you guys like it <3
warning: angst, a touch of fluff
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The baby’s soft cries echoed in the forest, as a reminder that a life has just begun, tender and innocent. Agatha was perched by a tree, only wrapped in a light and crumbled vest. Her cloak dropped somewhere a few feet away. The sweat and the pressure at her lower abdomen finally subsided, making her feel like she could breathe properly again. There was blood between her legs, staining her inner thighs, flooding and then drying out to her knees. Everything kind of hurt, her eyes were heavy, but her senses stayed alert. 
“Move,” the Green Witch muttered in a placid order. 
You looked into her eyes, slowly shaking your head, as you stood in front of Agatha, shielding her and the baby, “No.”
The witch felt a wave of relief wash over her when she heard your simple, yet categorical answer. She was in no condition to fight against Rio on this, despite the fire in her eyes and the weak magic already tingling her digits. 
Rio sighed, “we aren’t doing this. You promised–”
“I know what I did,” you interjected, closing your hands into fists, “But I changed my mind. I am allowed to change my mind,” you pointed out, voice thick with emotion. You couldn’t bring yourself to say goodbye to a child you didn’t even hold in your arms yet. “I-I can’t let you take him,” turning around, your eyes focused on the baby’s tiny head peeking out of the little blanket Agatha wrapped him in. “I mean, he’s innocent. It can’t be his time…”
“My loves–” 
“Just let him live,” Agatha interjected, her voice both exhausted and desperate. She never felt so scared before, “Please, don’t take him from me.” 
When he clasped his tiny hands in her long wavy hair, her lips brushed against his head, “I love you,” she smiled, rocking him ever so gently, “I love you so much.”
Your heart melted at the sight before your eyes. Rio felt a slight indecision tugging at her chest. She never thought the first time she would hold her son would be to carry him in the afterlife. It felt cruel. It was cruel. But he was sick, he could feel his disease, hovering like a shadow around him. 
“I’m not giving up. Not yet,” you insisted. 
“You talk as if I didn’t wish for him to live,” Rio retorted in disbelief. 
“Oh, spare us, Rio!” Agatha snapped. “You’re the Green Witch, it’s not like you’ve got no power at your disposal. And yet you’re choosing the easy way.”
Rio couldn’t believe her ears. “The easy way you say? Are you nuts? He is my son too, Agatha!”
You frowned at their bickering. Last thing you wanted was to indulge in this fight. This moment was supposed to bring joy to your lives. A child was born, your child for fuck’s sake. Why couldn’t you three be happy about it? Why couldn’t you cherish the moment? He was sick, but you could still try to save him. Work together to make it possible. You, Agatha and Rio weren’t common witches after all, and if there was someone able to find a loophole, it would be you. 
“Then start acting more like a mother,” Agatha retorted, voice dropping in a whisper. 
“It’s not my fault I’ve got responsibilities, Agatha. I never asked to be like this,” Rio’s voice wavered a bit, her heart thumping in her chest with painful insistence. 
“My loves, please we shouldn’t–”
The sound of Agatha’s mocking laughter prevented you from finishing off that sentence. “What about the responsibilities towards our son? He should come first.” 
“Our son is sick, and in order for him to live, many will have to die. It will cause absolute chaos.”
“So be it. All I care about is my son.” Her icy blue eyes sparkling dangerously as she said those words with force and a bit of selfishness. 
You considered Rio’s words; a bunch of conflicted emotions passed through you. Rio wouldn’t say those things if she knew there was another way out of this. But maybe if she couldn’t find it, you could, if only you were granted more time to figure it out. 
“If you take him, I’ll hate you forever,” she insisted rather calmly now. 
“Agatha…”
Color drained from your face at those words. You knew she didn’t mean that. She couldn’t. When a muffled sound slipped from Rio’s lips, a mixture between a choked sob and a scoff, you drew closer to her, your hands immediately finding her cheeks. You weren’t supposed to pick sides. You were a family, and it should stay like that. 
“She doesn’t mean it,” you said both softly and firmly, thumbs brushing against her cheekbones. She rolled her eyes and you took a firmer grip on her face, so that she would focus on your eyes, “Rio, listen to me, she doesn’t–”
“I do.” Agatha deadpanned, cutting you off.  
You hissed, “Quiet, Agatha.” 
Rio let out a quiet humorless chuckle, when the other witch grumbled something under her breath. 
“We are just scared, my love. We want this child to live, we need him to, do you understand that?” 
When your voice croaked slightly, her hands tangled in your hair and pulled you closer to her, “I know, baby. I know,” she cooed, getting lost in those wet lashes of yours.
You swallowed thickly, “I don’t want to say goodbye.” 
She leaned in and brushed her lips right under your eye, her magic immediately mingling with yours. Your eyelids fluttered close and you let out a faint mewl. 
“I can only offer time,” she said, once she pulled away, so that she could meet both yours and Agatha’s eyes.
You arched an eyebrow confusedly, “what does it mean?”
“How much time?” Asked Agatha. 
She shrugged, as if she didn’t know or she couldn’t really say. Her behavior only served the purpose of making you more nervous. Crossing your arms over your chest, you knew that you’d have to use this time to master your own powers. To make sure that whenever Rio intended on collecting your son’s soul, you’d be ready to fight. Not her of course, but the process of Death itself. You were a necromancer witch, whose powers were completely opposite to Rio’s. While her job was to keep order between life and death, your powers could easily break that balance if you wanted to. Meaning that you could resurrect life forms.
“You know I’ll still try when the time comes, don’t you?”
Rio looked at you and despite your words, she smiled, “I know, love. Thought I’d hate you if you decided to interfere, but honestly, I hope you win.” 
It was your turn to crack a smile in her direction. “It’s not a competition, Rio. All I want is to keep our child alive.” 
She hummed, without voicing her concerns out loud, not wanting to add more to yours and Agatha’s shoulders, “You two will make a good job.”
You and Agatha exchanged a confused look, “you sound like you’re leaving us behind,” she trailed off. 
When Rio averted her eyes, lips pressed in a thin line, you were sure you felt your heart shatter. 
“No, she’s not-” you looked at Agatha, hoping to have got it all wrong. But when you spotted tears welling up in her eyes, you realized the truth. 
“Rio, please, don’t do this–”
“I must. I can’t be seen around him,” her tone was sad, yet you could still feel the love filling each word. You kept shaking your head in denial. “Might be difficult to believe but there are women above me I respond to.” 
“The Fates have no power if you don’t do your part,” Agatha pointed out, hoping to be right.
Rio smacked her lips in return. “It’s not that simple. Atropos, the eldest of the three, could give me a really hard time if I disobey.” 
You clenched your jaw at her words. The thought of handing your son’s life in the hands of those crones made absolutely no sense to you. They shouldn’t be entitled to take the life of an innocent just like that. You were a necromancer witch, meaning that you could change things. For a long time you buried that part of yourself within you, because of the things you’ve been told all your life. Interfering with the natural order of the things was wrong; your power was an abomination, but at that moment, all those warnings sounded like bullshit. 
Rio sensed your distress, her fingers brushed yours, “I’ll keep him hidden for as long as I can.” 
Then she turned to Agatha and pointed at the baby in the silent, almost timid request to approach him. She still had to see him properly after all. Agatha nodded and moved the child so that he would face her, tucking a bit of the blanket underneath his chin to better expose his tiny face. 
Rio brushed a strand of Agatha’s hair first, “you did amazing, my love,” she praised her, causing a light brush on the witch’s cheeks. She couldn’t quite believe she, you three created such a beautiful baby boy from scratch. 
“Hi” she cooed, now focusing on the newborn. You leaned against the tree, the same tree Agatha was perched by, and looked from above the sweet interaction going on. Rio’s fingertips grazed over his tiny, perfect nose. “I can’t promise you a life devoid of challenges and pain, but I confide in your mothers to always make sure you’re happy and loved,” she lifted her eyes to meet yours and Agatha’s. A watery smile tugged at her lips, “And trust me, you’re so so loved already, little one.” 
You wiped the corners of your eyes and so did Agatha. 
“We should name him Nicholas,” she said after a moment of contemplation.  
Knowing the meaning of the name, you felt like you couldn’t agree more on it, “Nicholas Scratch,” you added, “cause we made him from scratch.” 
Rio turned towards you, while her fingers played with the baby’s tender little hands. “That’s perfect, my love. Isn’t it, Agatha?”
Agatha swallowed thickly, already mourning the loss of Rio, despite her being still there. She nodded, and then she tangled a hand in Rio’s hair, pulling her closer to her face. For a moment she only leaned against her forehead, inhaling her sweet scent of flowers. Then the Green Witch took the initiative and placed her lips on top of hers, savoring with extreme gentleness, the plumpiness of Agatha’s. You ran a hand in Agatha’s hair, fingers stroking her scalp to let her feel your presence too, while your eyes darted on Rio. When Agatha let out a choked sob in Rio’s mouth, overwhelmed by everything that had just happened in such a short time, the other hushed her softly, “it’s going to be okay.”
Neither you nor Agatha were sure about it, but you had no other choice than to believe her. 
“Take care of your moms, Nicky,” she later added, placing one last kiss on his forehead and then on Agatha’s. 
Once she stood up again, she focused her attention on you. In an ideal world, you’d be her enemy, because of the powers you possessed. And yet, against all the odds, you became her lover, one of the most important persons in her life. 
“Don’t be sad…”
You nibbled on your inner cheek so hard you drew blood. With your arms crossed over your chest, you struggled to spill a single word because you didn’t trust your voice at the moment. Your entire body was shaking on the inside. Agatha never saw you look so fragile before. It felt like a stab in her chest to witness her family fall apart like that. 
“You’re asking too much of me,” you kept your eyes down, focusing on the tip of your boots. 
“Nena, look at me,” Rio tried to meet your eyes, but you purposefully kept it down, shaking it stubbornly and hopelessly. She smiled, feigning hurt in her tone as she continued, “You wouldn’t let me go without a proper kiss now, would you?” 
Despite your best efforts, you let out a small watery chuckle at her playful teasing, “I hate that you’re doing this.”
“It’s for Nicky…” She said simply. 
Agatha buried her face in the baby’s naked shoulder, finding comfort in his pure and unique scent. 
“And I am sorry,” when you finally met her eyes, Rio cupped your cheeks, “so sorry you don’t get to be his mother. It’s your right to be.”
But Rio’s lips curled into a reassuring smile, despite her sadness. “Don’t be. I’ll get my turn eventually…  and for now, I’ll be his–”
“Please, don’t say shadow,” you muttered, and that elicited a small chuckle out of the Green Witch. If you turned around you’d see Agatha’s lips stretch into a smile too. 
“Guardian, then.”
You hummed and licked your lips, tasting the saltiness of your own tears in your mouth. 
“Now come here, I waited enough–” 
The witch pulled you closer with ease. Your body crashed into hers but it was okay because she was ready to hold you. 
Agatha could see Rio’s face as she hugged you. She spotted a single tear slip down her eye and her stomach lurched. When you two pulled away, Rio took a few steps back, pulling the green cloak over her head. She lingered a few seconds to memorize the scene before her. You dropped on your knees and landed next to Agatha. Her head immediately lolled on your shoulder, and you turned yours to place your lips in her hair. 
Rio waved softly, then blew a kiss to each of you, “Nos vemos, mis amores.” 
You and Agatha nodded quietly, watching the Green Witch disappear before your eyes. Agatha let out a silent sob when she did; your arms immediately wrapped around her and the baby in a protective embrace. 
“We will be fine, Aggs.” 
When Agatha met your gaze, eyes full of hope and vulnerability, you took a mental vow to protect her and Nicky whatever the cost. 
“Yeah,” she echoed with a smile you immediately reciprocated. She closed her eyes when you leaned in to brush your lips against her still clammy forehead. 
When the baby started crying again, you two pulled away and focused your attention on Nicky. He looked rather pale for your liking, a little warm too. You knew what he needed and so did Agatha. You placed a tender kiss on his cheek, Agatha’s lips curling into a soft smile, while you did. Then you stood, hands on your hips, eyes roaming around your surroundings like a predator looking for its prey. You didn’t want to do this, but you were just a mother trying to keep your son alive. 
When Agatha attempted to get up, you interjected, “stay here for now. Let me do the rest.”
Her expression shifted from confusion to worry, “You shouldn’t be doing this alone.”
“Agatha,” you merely rolled your eyes at that, “You just had our baby, I think it’s not the end of the world if you sit this one out,” your voice laced with a hint of playfulness despite the things you had to do. It’s not that you never killed before, cause you did. Not in cold blood though. You forced yourself into believing that it wouldn’t be much different. Once a wise person told you, a witch must do anything in her power to survive and there’s no shame in that. You were looking at her now, as her attention remained fixed on you. 
“Be careful,” it was supposed to sound like an order, but the softness in her eyes betrayed her. 
You chuckled lightly, “I always am,” you concluded, pulling the cloak up over your head. 
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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 3 days ago
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Death Wish 3
Warnings: non/dubcon, mentions of crime, violence/abuse 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!Bucky Barnes
Part of the mob drabbles au
Summary: you’re desperate for a way out of your life and you ask a powerful man for help (plus!reader)
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 ❤️
Photo Inspo
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The time when your father is out of the house is always the most peaceful. All the same, the anticipation of his return keeps you on edge. You never really know when he’ll be back. He could be gone for days at a time or only a few hours. With news of his new out-of-town assignment, you can at least breathe for a moment. 
He leaves without a goodbye. The word sentimental has never been used in the same vicinity as your father. You and your sisters watch him go, less forlorn than you may appear. Relief washes over you as the door closes. 
“Can we go shopping now?” Adrienne asks. She’s the youngest at eighteen. 
“We should,” you say. “Kitty, you have the money?” 
“In my purse,” the eldest assures you. Kitty, thought your mother always insisted on her full name, Katherine, is almost thirty and wears it plainly. “More than enough.” 
“We should try to buy extra in case he waits again,” you say. 
“Yeah, you always are the most practical.” 
“Can we go to the bakery?” Adrienne asks. Mr. Mulano gave me some money the other day for helping her air out her townhouse. You wouldn’t imagine the dust. I still have a rash.” 
“If you have the money,” Kitty resigns. 
“I do and I want to spend it on us. We’ll get canolis. They were always ma’s favourite.” 
You give a glum smile. Kitty is the most like your mother. The sweetest. Always thinking of others. And she looks like her too. It’s probably why you and Adrienne get in front of her when the storm starts or even why your father doesn’t tend to go after her as much as you. 
And she took your mother’s death the hardest. You grieve more for the life she lived than the life that she lost. She had a monstrous husband and three helpless daughters. She spent her days scrounging despite having a made man and was battered to the bone in trying to protect what little she had. When she died, there was no shield left between you and your father’s temper. 
“Yes, let’s go to the bakery,” you agree. “I’ll pay for coffee. I have some change in my purse.” 
You get dressed in a carefully picked outfit. It’s warm out but you wear a long-sleeved white blouse. You balance it with a tea-length beige skirt. The shirt covers the bruises mostly, though you have to blend a bit of makeup around your neck and your face as always is painted to hide the darker spots. Not much can be done for the split in your lip. 
You go out and the sunshine feels warmer than usual. That shadow still looms. His shadow. No, not your father’s. Barnes’. You’re as embarrassed as you are terrified. Why did you do that? Your father? Dead? You must have seemed so naive. That’s not how it works. 
You shrug it off and go about your day. It’s a rare occasion that you can just enjoy being with your sisters. You do the shopping first. You fill the cart with all you need, and a few extra staples just in case, then go to the bakery. 
Nova is always busy and for good reason. They have more than just coffee cakes and pastries. They have a full sit-in deli and coffee roasted in Sicily. 
You offer to sit with the cart as Kitty and Adrienne stand in line. Kitty wants to look at the delicately iced specials through the glass and Adrienne wants to be sure she only gets decaf. You’re all too happy to have a seat. 
You sit with one hand on the cart and the other on your purse. You look down at the worn leather. The brown bag was your mothers. You didn’t get a lot of what she left behind. Your father threw most of it out, though you know he hawked her jewelry when he got his new car. As much as he proclaims his love for her, he doesn’t show it otherwise. 
The bell above the door rings amidst the buzz of the closed space. They’ll have to open the windows soon to let the heat escape. You glance over carelessly at the new entrance. You snap up straight as your eyes meet the bright blue ones. As if looking for you, the boss finds you, a calm, unreadable expression beneath his dark beard. 
You stare back at him and squeeze the strap of the purse. He fixes his tie and nods his head at you. Your lashes flick in surprise. Then, he faces the horde as they start to quiet. Those ahead of him take notice nd hush, stepping aside to let him through. 
Kitty gasps as Adrienne grabs her arm and moves her away from the front of the line, giving up their turn for the mafioso strutting toward them. He stops before he reaches the counter. The entire place watches. 
“Go on, ladies,” he insists, “it’s on me.” 
You blink and shrink back against the metal frame of the chair. Your sisters don’t move at first and when they do, they use the same caution as when your dad’s huffing and puffing in the corner. They speak to the cashier in low tones and turn to Barnes. They thank him with their hands clutched. 
He placidly puts in his own order and digs out his wallet. The cashier tries to wave him off but he insists. You only catch a few words from your vantage. 
He gets his coffee first and box of pastries. You never imagined him having much of a sweet tooth. The sight of this deadly man in his dark suit in this place is absurd. He doesn’t come to collect the protection fee, men like your father do. No, he’s there for a coffee and dessert. At least, you can’t believe that it would be for any other reason. Especially not you 
It can’t be. 
He turns and struts out without a look back. You stare after him as a low murmur crawls through the bakery. You peek through the window as he passes. His blue eyes glint in your direction and his cheek dimples. Your world is small, too small for coincidences. You’re starting to think there’s more going on than just a job out of town. 
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ramp-it-up · 1 day ago
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Dessert or Disaster?
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Summary: James Bucky Barnes is an avowed bachelor and one night stand artist. You came along and knocked him on his face. You two are in love, but you two are both stubborn. Will you both put aside your pride to make this work? Can one or both of you be humbled?
Word count: 3.5 K
Pairing: Art Dealer (mob boss) Bucky Barnes x Reader
A/N: This fic is connected to the Knock You Down AU, and comes immediately after ...As Hard As I Did but I feel it can be read as a stand alone. It is in answer to this ask. Seb Stan's latest pics and this press run is making me feral. I can write these two ALL DAY!!!! Y'all are gonna have to deal with this for a while, sorry not sorry.
Warnings: 18+ Only, Minors DNI. Read at your own risk. This is the filthiest these two have gotten. Ms. Independent Syndrome, Mr. Chauvanist condition. Argument, angst, the silent treatment, tipsy girl's night out revenge, jealous Bucky, jealous reader, handsy random Drunk guy, who gets laid out. Sam shows up. Dom/sub elements, mild BDSM exploration. Spanking, orgasm denial, humiliation kink, praise kink, talk of voyeriusm kink, begging, use of Daddy, use of google translate Romanian. Not Beta'd. All errors my own.
I no longer have a taglist. Please follow @rampitupandread and turn on notifications to learn when I post! 😘
I Do NOT Consent to my work being reposted, translated or presented on any other blog or site other than by myself.
-------
James Buchanan Barnes didn’t own you.
But he thought he did. 
It was infuriating.
After a month of dating, you’d had your first fight. Bucky always paid whenever you went out, and last Sunday, when you both reached for the check at brunch, there was a slight tussle. 
You laughed as Bucky scowled, thinking he was joking, but he was dead serious about paying. You became indignant, and you may have called him a controlling crime boss.
Bucky definitely called you an entitled brat and you may have stormed away and walked home, refusing to get back in the car with him. Bucky followed you in his sportscar as you pretended he wasn’t there. 
You were shaking with rage by the time you reached your brownstone and Bucky parked illegally.
“Frumoasă, let’s talk–”
“There is nothing to talk about, James. If you can’t respect my boundaries, then I don’t know what to say. I need space. Time to think.”
You glanced at him, but you looked away from the hurt on his face. 
“What does that mean?”
You cringed at the hurt in his voice. 
“I– we. Listen, you were right. We went way fast with this. It’s a lot, Jamie.”
You loved the fuck out of this man, but you felt like you couldn’t breathe.
“Are you breaking up with me?”
Bucky’s voice cracked and you looked up into his ocean blue, watery eyes.
“No?”
“Are you sure?”
“No. I’m not sure, James.”
“I thought you were mine?”
You paused and took a deep breath. 
“You don’t own me. You can’t do whatever you want…”
Bucky just looked at you as if he were about to debate that fact. Then, he raised his hands and backed away.
“Our dinner date still stands. Maybe Saturday night, we can talk about this like adults…”
Your ire was raised once again.
“I am an adult, Bucky. And you are too. You should listen to me when I-”
Bucky interrupted you and ran his hand through his hair, which he had been growing out. Just for you. He was extremely frustrated.
“This relationship has been predicated on nothing but your boundaries.”
It was a standoff. You two stared at each other, an invisible wall between you. You didn’t like how it felt.
“Like I said, we need a break.”
“We agree on something, at least.”
Bucky turned and walked back to his car, and you both closed your doors at the same time, hearts beating out of tune.
—-
You only cried for a couple of hours that day, but when you woke up to no good morning text from Bucky on Monday morning, you cried again. You were hurt, angry and anxious. Were you two over and done with? You threw yourself into work, trying not to feel your emotions.
By Tuesday, Bucky was being driven mad with images of you, sensations of holding you in his arms, feeling your body around him, your voice telling him that you loved him.
Steve sensed his mood, but did not press him, just complied when Bucky asked him to speed up the timeline to divest themselves of all illegal enterprises.
On Wednesday, you were feeling some kind of way. How dare he just ignore you and pretend you didn’t exist. Was he trying to punish you or something? You didn’t realize how much Bucky’s attention mattered to you. But you bet he knew very well. You decided to have big, big fun that night with your girls.
Of course, Bucky still had eyes on you, so he knew you were safe, but he told Nico and crew to fall back a little. He didn’t want to crowd you. But he was going crazy at the fact that you didn’t reach out to him. He was giving you the space you requested and hoped that you would come back to him of your own accord. He wasn’t going to force you to do anything. It was a matter of principle, not pride.
At least that was what he told himself.
There were some things you needed to understand, however.  Bucky was just trying to take care of you. You loved him, and he loved you. This thing was destiny. And you couldn’t run from that.
Wednesday night, he got a text from you. He sighed as he headed toward your location.
—-
You wore a more revealing outfit than you usually did. You were wearing a backless top that showcased your braless breasts and the cool night had sharpened your nipples into hard peaks, pressing through the thin material. You may have been thinking about Bucky tearing the top off of you roughly, or taking off carefully, or leaving it on you as he fucked you.  He would still pay attention to your nipples no matter what. You were horny for your man, and not thinking about tempting anyone else.
So you decided to break the ice and send him a selfie.
When Bucky didn’t respond, you got angry all over again. How dare he just continue to ignore you? You were a queen, and you were going to act like one. You went to the club, got tipsy, and acted as if you were in college again, taking drinks from anyone who offered. And there were lots of offers. You danced with your girls, and later, with the men who bought you drinks.
It was all harmless fun, right?
Through the crowd and the flashing lights, you saw a familiar profile, a head of hair and those unmistakable shoulders. Bucky was there, and his body language indicated that he was aware and interested in what you were doing.
So you gave him a show.
A woman came up to him and he looked down at her, a small smile on his lips. A jolt of jealousy rocked your body when he moved to a quiet corner with her and of all the colors in the club, all you could see was red. When she smiled up at him and her hand reached for his arm, you began grinding on the body behind you.
The man pulled you closer and practically yelled in your ear.
“You come here often?”
You rolled your eyes as his hands squeezed your hips and moved down. 
“Yeah. Let’s just dance.”
You moved his hands away but then they glided over your stomach and skimmed your back, thumbs brushing dangerously near your top. He pulled you even closer and started grinding as you tried to keep his octopus arms off of you. You glanced toward the corner and saw one person talking on the other locked in on you. And then moving in your direction.
You were relieved and terrified, because what had you gotten yourself into?
And what was Bucky going to do now? He looked like an animal, stalking his prey, dangerous.
The stranger moved his hands again and you recoiled, just as Bucky’s hand landed on your bare shoulder.
“That’s enough. Time to go.”
The random guy chucked his chin up at Bucky. 
“Who the fuck are you? Me and my girl are dancing here.”
You heard a record scratch, even though the music was still blaring.
“What did you say?”
Now you were afraid for this man’s life.
“C’mon James, let’s go. He’s drunk off his ass.”
You tried to pull him away, but he was not moved, staring down the man who would go down if Bucky breathed on him the wrong way. After a second, Bucky turned toward you, fury in his eyes.
You breathed a sigh of relief, even though you knew you were in for it. But Drunk Guy just had to open his mouth.
“Fucking whore. Acting like a slut on the dance floor and then leaving with this—”
And it was lights out for Drunk Guy, because Bucky Barnes laid him out flat with one punch.
Sam appeared out of nowhere to control the crowd as Bucky steered you through the crowd. His tense hand on your back sent a flash of dark excitement through you. He guided you by the elbow through the kitchen of the club. He took off his jacket and draped it around your shoulders before taking you out to the cold alley to his waiting car.  He walked you around the passenger side and opened the door, but before you could get in, a tug on your arm sobered you up.
You turned to see so much ice in Bucky’s glare. It was terrifying and thrilling at the same time.
“You are in so much trouble,” Bucky’s lowly growled threat made goosebumps rise on your skin.
 “What do you mean?” 
You shaky voice belied your nerves.
“Get this clear, Frumoasă. You are, in fact, mine. That man’s hands were all over your body. All over what was mine.”
Bucky was leaning down, face close to yours, rage barely contained. You knew he would never truly hurt you, but…
“I had things under control,” you urgently whispered back. You wouldn’t back down from him.
“What about you? Who were you huddled up with in the corner?.” 
Bucky’s eyes glinted.
“Jealous?”
He got even closer. 
“No, you are,”
Bucky’s  jaw tensed, and a vein pulsed in his neck. You hit a nerve. 
“I know that woman from… from before you. She means nothing to me.” 
Bucky brought his hand up to your neck and buried his fingers in the hair at the nape of your head. He tangled your curls and tugged, none too gently, bringing your eyes up to meet his.
“I don’t want her. There is no one but you. “
You were trembling in his grip, panties soaked, mouth open for breath. Seeing Bucky this worked up brought out something in you. Something you didn’t realize was there.
“Take me home, James.”
“Y/N.” 
His voice chilled you. He gave you a cold smile. 
“I said you were in trouble, and I meant it. You’re getting punished.” 
Your jaw dropped, and your face flamed as you started to say something. But a wave of need crashed into your cunt. You were intrigued.
“What are you going to do?” 
Your voice wavered despite your efforts to appear calm. Good lord you wanted this.
“What you deserve,” he said calmly, gesturing for you to get into the car. You resisted.
“Tell me now.”
He indicated the car again and you sat down, trembling as he buckled you in and walked around to the driver's seat. You took a deep breath before he got in himself. 
Bucky leaned toward you menacingly.
“You have driven me to the edge these past few days, Y/N. I love you, I don’t know how else to explain this to you, so I’m going to show you tonight with a consequence for your actions. Either you accept that consequence and come to my place, or I drive you home. And we seriously reconsider what we’re doing here.”
You looked into his icy blues and you knew he was serious. You two had talked about some kinks and limits while starting to experiment with his more dominant side and your submissive side. These versions of you first manifested when you called him ‘Daddy.’ Punishment and reward was a heavy theme in your verbal foreplay. A little humiliation and praise was mixed into your physicality, and it thrilled you. 
Bucky made you feel safe, and tonight you had been unsafe.
“I’ll take my punishment, Daddy.”
Bucky’s eyes stuttered half closed, but he quickly recovered, managing to stay cool toward you as he whispered a gruff, “Good."
He started the car and pulled into the street, headed toward Brooklyn.
"Now sit back and make yourself invisible. I’m trying to calm down and I need to concentrate to not be too rough with you when we get home."
You settled back into your seat, thinking hard about that word, ‘home.’
—--
Bucky virtually ignored you until you got into his bedroom, and you surprised yourself with how much you just wanted him to look at you. You were a whore for his attention. And now you knew that he knew that.
That’s when you realized that your punishment had already begun.
You walked ahead of him on shaky legs on the deep pile carpet of his bedroom, legs shaking and heat emanating from your core. You felt his hand tug you to a stop as he turned you around to face him. 
Bucky took his jacket off of your shoulders as he finally looked at you, admiring the pout on your face. 
“You were a good girl. So silent on the ride over and in the elevator.”
You shuddered as he spoke and as his fingers touched your bare shoulders. 
“You like being a good girl for me, don’t you?”
His palm moved from your shoulder up to your cheek.
“Yet you weren’t a good girl earlier tonight, were you?”
He was so close to you, his lips millimeters from yours.
“James, please –”
The space between your lips was driving you crazy. 
“I think you need to be spanked, Frumoasă.” 
His voice was so calm, in contrast to the whirlwind inside you. You were anxious, but you wanted this in your soul.
“We will talk while I spank you. You have got to understand how much I care for you. How much I love you.”
Anger with a rush of excitement coursed through your body.
 “I— This is— Fuck,” you whispered. 
Bucky pecked your lips, allowing just one bright spot of tenderness before he abruptly sat down on the edge of the bed. 
“Over my lap, Frumoasă.” 
“Christ, James.” 
“Now.” 
His eyes were iceberg blue. There was no trace of soft Bucky.
 “Or I will put you there myself.” 
“Do it,” you whispered, ever defiant.
In an instant, you were thrown over the bed like you weighed nothing, and flipped onto his lap.
“There we go.” 
His satisfied voice made you shiver. A large hand slipped off your heels and peeled your leggings down your legs. You squirmed, knowing that he could see the wet spot on your your panties. 
“Esti atat de frumoasă iubirea mea.” You are so beautiful my love.
He smoothed your panties against your wet crease before he yanked them down in one swift movement, exposing you to the cool air in his bedroom. 
“I’m going to enjoy this. You, not so much,” 
“Get on with it.” 
“Watch your mouth, and stop rolling your eyes.” 
Bucky squeezed your ass cheek as he read you like a book, and you braced for a blow.
“Don’t hurt me,” you pleaded in a whisper, chastened now.
“This isn’t going to be about pain.” 
You rubbed your nipples against the comforter, searching for some relief to the sexual tension coursing through your body.
“Then what?”
You were breathless as he rubbed circles on your ass. A slap landed, quick and stinging, causing you to  jump.
“It’s about you being a spoiled little princess.” 
His voice was rougher. Oh Lord. That nickname was your undoing. It felt so right. 
“I am not!” 
You gasped when he spanked you again, heat radiating from the spot. 
“Brat. Don’t contradict me.”
Fingers slipped into your folds.
“See? A spoiled, wet princess.” 
You bucked, lifting your ass to his touch, not trying to hide your reaction. 
“Mmm, you like being called that, don’t you? Your body can’t hide the truth.” 
“Daddy…” 
You buried your face in the bed as he rubbed your clit. How could he be so calm?
“That’s it, Prinţesă Open up for me.” 
More spanks made you moan wantonly. 
“I’m going to fuck you you here…” 
Two fingers moved deep into your cunt..
 “…And here.”
He lightly stroked the cleft of your ass. 
“Yes, I want you there. Please!”
Bucky’s intake of breath told you that he hadn’t expected your response. 
“Iti place, Prinţesă aia? You like that?” 
“God, it feels so good.” 
Bucky circled your tight hole and worked a finger inside. 
“Fuck, you feel so tight and untouched,” he crooned as you arched into his hands. 
“Almost innocent. But you are anything but, aren’t you? You were acting like a slut earlier. Letting him touch what’s mine.”
“James—”
You were angry and yet so close to cumming at the same time.
Bucky laughed. 
“You wanted attention, now you have it. Do you want me to have Sam bring him here to watch me do this to you? Or should I just call Sam? Or Steve? Or Nat? All three perhaps? You need an audience, Frumoasă?”
You were so wet at what he was saying despite your embarassment.
“Look at you.”
His voice was so condescending. Why did that get you even wetter? 
“You are so worked up over the idea. They’d be eager. They all say how fine you are, and how they would have you right where I do if I hadn’t made the first move.”
You pussy spasmed as he plunged two fingers inside you again while his thumb pressed down on your clit. He pulled away before you could fall over the edge and you grunted in frustration. 
“It’ll never happen though, because you’re mine. My little slut. My cum whore.”
A smack stung your ass. 
“Fuuuckkkk, Jamie….”
You were shuddering, shaking, creaming all over his hand. 
“My pure and total slut. In every way.”
You kicked, your ass fluttering around the two fingers he had inserted. Your pussy was gushing, but you could find no relief. Another hard smack rained down and you cried out. 
“Do you think I could ever look at anyone else while you are in the world, Frumoasă? A thousand women could be in here — naked, begging — and I wouldn’t look their way. Not once."
“James—” 
“Not when you’re here, so pretty on my lap, with your pussy on fire and your body desperate for what I can give you.” 
You whimpered and tried to close your legs for pressure on your clit, but Bucky spread your thighs with his hands and stared down into your shiny, wet cunt.
“And you're not just desperate.” 
Bucky was relentless. 
“You're greedy. They would have to watch while I fucked you, because you can’t wait.”
“Oh, fuck, Jamesssss!”
“That’s why I give you all my time, my attention, all my money, because I will give you anything you ask for. And more, Frumoasă.”
You hid your face, slung over his lap, and his big fingers began stroking in and out of you again.
Lightning bolted through you.
You gasped and clamped down on his hand. You came so hard. And then he was spanking you again. Your ass was numb now. 
Somehow you wound up on the bed, belly-down, knees on the floor with Bucky kneeling behind you. You arched your back, body begging for him. Another slap landed on your heated ass.
“Look at you, putting on a show. Just like earlier in the middle of the dance floor. But all of this is mine. No one else’s.”
Bucky grasped your breasts through your thin top and you whimpered, face down on his bed, presenting for him, spreading your legs, beckoning him to stop the torture and enter you.
“Need your cock, Daddy. Please. I’m sorry!”
A sudden smack on your clit made you cry out. Pleasure bloomed out from your cunt and your thighs were now soaked.
“Yes, you need me. And it’s okay. It’s okay to be taken care of, to lose control. I’ve got you Frumoasa.” 
For once, you had nothing to say, you just gripped the covers as Bucky lifted your hands and moved them behind your back, holding them together.
“I wish you could see your ass right now, Baby.” 
His voice was husky with lust. 
“It’s so red and so warm. So fucking beautiful. But you deserve my cock, too, don’t you?” 
He sank into you without warning, your wetness enabling him to sink in with one thrust. You were helpless; you just had to take it. You moaned as his thumb entered your ass as he squeezed your hip. And you felt so full, fucked sensless by his relentless nature.
“So fucking wet,” he growled. “And you want me to fuck your ass.” 
“Please, Daddy…”
You were sobbing now, wanting everything he was giving you, everything he was saying, and more.  
“Please cum inside me.”
“Good girl,” he whispered. “Love it when you beg. You should see the creamy goodness you are leaving around my cock..”
Bucky threw his head back and moaned, shutting his eyes tight from the erotic sight. His thrusts became erratic as his cum hit your wet, hot walls. Your mouth opened in a wide O and a silent scream as you came around him.
He growled as he finished, his hand rubbing your back as he softened inside you. You slumped against the bed as he rained kisses down your spine.
“Are you okay, Prinţesă?”
You smiled.
“More than okay.”
Bucky smiled and kissed your forehead before retreating to the bathroom. He came back, cleaned you up, and helped you to fully undress as you climbed into his bed.
He went to the kitchen to get a glass of water for you and made you drink, before he took off his clothes and climbed into bed with you and took you into his arms.
“Do you still love me, Y/N?”
Confident, dominant Bucky Barnes was gone. You looked up into his uncertain blue eyes.
“Of course I do. I wouldn’t have come with you if I didn’t. I love you, James Barnes. I’m still yours. It’s just— I’ve been taking care of myself for so long that I don’t know how–”
Bucky put his finger over your lips.
“That’s all I wanted to hear right now. Let’s get some rest. We will talk in the morning. I’m not letting you go without a fight. I love you, so much, Frumoasă.”
You kissed him and relaxed into his arms.
“You own me, Frumoasă, body and soul.”
—-
Let me know if you like this one! 😁
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holylulusworld · 2 days ago
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Bucky still got this
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Summary: You took the perv home.
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader
Warnings: smut, protected sex, mentions of unprotected sex, fun, naughty reader, naughty Bucky, a match made in heaven
This is a snippet to Big girls don’t cry masterlist, but with Bucky and a different reader. It can be read as a stand-alone fic.
Catch up here: Bucky got this
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“I got this... I got this,” Bucky grunts in your neck with every deep thrust. He’s so close to losing it that he moves at a madding pace. “I fucking got this.”
“Yes, you got this,” you eagerly agree, rocking your hips faster. You’re so painfully close to another orgasm, you don’t care that you just met the guy holding you pinned to your mattress. “You fucking got this.”
"I GOT THIS!"
“BUCKY GOT THIS!” You scream at the top of your lungs when you fall apart underneath the cocky guy you met in front of the bakery.
“Fuck, I got this,” he whines in your neck through his orgasm. “I got this...always.”
“Yeah, Romeo, you got this,” you snicker when he lifts his head to look you in the eyes. “You got it more than once.”
You both laugh when your neighbor hammers against the wall. Not for the first time, though.
“We all know you got this. Can you stop with the non-stop fucking? Other people want to watch TV, eat, or sleep!”
“Shut up! I must bear hearing you jerk off to bad porn every night. I got a perfect dick to ride and will make good use of it. All. Night. Long.”
“Bitch!” Your neighbor yells and slams his fist into the wall. “Keep it down!”
“Shut up, dick-less jerk,” you reply, making Bucky chuckle. “He will fuck me with his tongue and fingers now, and we will make as much noise as we can!”
“What?” Bucky slowly pulls out to roll on his back. He discards the condom and sighs. “My jaw still hurts, lady. I’m not a sex machine.”
You snort. “You promised me a good time, little perv,” you pat his chest. “Come on, don’t be a disappointment.”
“I made you cum more than once,” Bucky mutters under his breath. “Women these days are so greedy. I give them an orgasm, and they want more.”
“Aw, poor baby,” you roll on top of Bucky to kiss his chest. “Is my pretty perv already tired? I thought your hands and dick can work magic.”
“I did,” he grunts. “Lady, hey...” he hisses, feeling your hand wrap around his sensitive dick. “I can’t get it up right after I filled you up.”
“Hmm…do you know that one Beyoncé song?” You coo and peck his lips. “You know, if you like it, put a ring on it.”
Bucky’s eyes widen, but he can’t help the growl leave his lips. “You want to use me like some toy, huh? Do dirty things to me and ruin this cunt forever. Maybe let me fill your pussy up this time too.”
“Please, for the love of whatever,” your neighbor yells. “Stop fucking! I need silence!”
You sigh and get comfortable on top of Bucky. “So, how long does it usually take for you to get hard again?” You giggle when Bucky slaps your ass. “I mean it, Mr. Barnes. How long?”
“You’re insatiable.”
“You are a perv. We’re a match made in heaven.”
Bucky rolls his eyes but says nothing. He just had the best sex in ages. If he wants to get some more sugar, he’ll play along and let you say whatever you wish to him.
“I’m not a perv,” he finally replies. “I told you about my friend and his girl’s problems.”
“I only heard your friend is a douche hurting that beautiful woman,” you huff and bite his nipple.
Bucky yelps. “Hey, what was that for?”
“You supported that douche.” You grin before biting the other nipple. This time, Bucky slaps your ass. “Hmm…harder, perv.”
“I told you to keep it low! I’m calling the cops!” Your neighbor yells even louder.
“Go ahead! Tell the cops you’re listening to other people, fuck!” You yell back. “You are a fucking creep. Don’t think I didn’t see you stare at my ass!”
“He stared at your ass." Bucky’s features darken. “Let me find my pants, and I’m punching his face.”
“Punch his dick!” You snicker as you roll off Bucky to watch him look for his pants. “No, wait. You won’t find his dick. It’s tiny.”
“Where are my pants?” Bucky looks for his pants, ready to punch a stranger for you. “Fuck!”
“Bucky, get back to bed. He’s not worth it,” you laugh while Bucky struggles to find his clothes. “We started in the living room, remember?” You crook your finger and lure Bucky back in. “If you can’t get it up right now, how about you invite me to the bakery for something sweet?”
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Bucky impatiently watches you look at the baked goods. He huffs and hopes you’ll choose something soon. His cock twitched more than once watching you bounce on your heels in front of him.
“Dammit, that’s not good,” he murmurs and looks down at his body. “Don’t fall in love, little Bucky. That’s a one-time thing. Do not get addicted to her. We won’t discuss this. I'm warning you, punk.”
“What do you think?” You twirl around to show Bucky a baguette, not cake. “Do you think we can skip the cake and go back to this?”
You seductively slide your tongue over the baguette, your eyes holding Bucky’s gaze. He chokes on his spit, watching you open your mouth to put the tip of the baguette into your mouth.
“Fuck, woman!” He grabs your wrist to drag you out of the bakery. “I guess your neighbor will hate us even more.”
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Tags in reblog.
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navybrat817 · 4 hours ago
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Hold You Tight: Part 12
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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 11 | Series Masterlist | Part 13
Chapter Word Count: Over 4.7k
Chapter Summary: Bucky gets under your skin when he takes you shopping.
Chapter Warnings: DARK AU, dirty talk, mild dubcon (kissing, touching), tension, unease, possessiveness, inner turmoil, gaslighting, manipulation, slight feels, Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?), more warnings to come.
A/N: More Hold You Tight and hope you enjoy! 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!
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You weren’t sure how much time passed with Bucky’s head resting in your lap, your fingers absentmindedly moving through his hair. While his body relaxed, you remained rigid. You tried to think of positive things. Your upcoming trip to the winery, Addison’s wedding. The images in your mind darkened though as if a cloud loomed over them. In a way, it did because you didn’t know what Bucky had planned for those events. Because even if Bucky really let you go to the winery alone, someone would be watching.
You forced the cloud in your mind to lift. Things could still be positive. You could still have a good day and have the best time with your friends.
“I’m sorry, but I have to get back to work,” you whispered.
“Of course,” he whispered back, pressing a kiss to your thigh and lifting his head with a smile. The darkness had left his eyes. How long until it returned? “Thank you for calming me down.”
“Of course,” you echoed because what else could you do?
Brushing his pants off once he got to his feet, he helped you up and didn’t let go of your hand. You didn’t attempt to pull away. He made sure to grab the money you left on the table before he paid the server and you tried to give the poor guy a smile when you thanked him. You just wanted to get on with your day.
As Bucky led you out of the cafe and back to the shop, you caught Ray’s gaze as he stood by the car and waited for his boss. Whatever concern he showed for you faded when he blinked. How did he deal with this life? Would he ever walk away from it?
“I’ll pick you up after work then?” Bucky asked.
“Sure,” you said. You didn’t tell him when your shift ended, but he knew, didn’t he? “Thanks for lunch.”
“It was my pleasure, but one more thing.” Bucky stopped you before you could enter the shop. “This regular customer you mentioned earlier. How often does he stop in?”
He asked as if he had no idea and maybe he didn’t in this case. That assumption didn’t ease your worries. “Once a month,” you said, your stomach turning slightly. “Listen, the roses he tried to give to me, I gave them to him first. They were his usual order and I thought it would be nice gesture and I was just-”
His brows pinched a little as his hands gently framed your cheeks. “Kotyonok, why do you sound so upset?” He asked, his thumbs moving in a soothing motion as you took a deep breath. “Wait, are you scared that I’d be mad at you?”
“I… I don’t know,” you said. You didn’t necessarily think he’d be upset with you, but after his mood swings at lunch and everything else so far you weren't sure what to expect. “I just don't know.”
“No, no, no, I’m not mad at you. Why would I be mad that you were kind to another person? That’s one of the things I love about you. It drew me to you,” he assured you. You oddly felt better by his assurance. “I don’t want you to stop doing kind things for others because you’re worried it might upset me.”
“So, it doesn’t upset you?”
“You being you would never upset me,” he smiled. He had said more than once that he loved you as a person, so maybe he was telling the truth. “A man trying to give flowers to you while going through a break-up is, at the very least, a little strange.”
“Yeah, I guess so,” you said, not wanting to admit that he had a point and that you were slightly put off when Clark tried to give the roses to you.
“I’m also well aware that you don’t hit on any guy who comes into your shop, so I wouldn’t view any act of kindness to a customer as trying to get their attention.”
“That’s true,” you agreed. Even Ray had pointed out to you that you didn’t give guys in the shop the time of day. Why would you when most of them were buying flowers for someone else? “But I just wanted you to know.”
“I appreciate you telling me, but you have nothing to worry about. Just have a good rest of the day.” With a kiss to the corner of your mouth, he whispered, “I’ll be thinking of you until I see you again.”
You weren’t sure why your heart fluttered. Relief that Bucky reacted calmly to what you said? You didn’t dwell on it as he held the door open and smiled after you as you went back into the shop. It was time to concentrate on work again.
Mrs. Crandle smiled and waved to Bucky through the door. “Oh, he is a looker,” she winked. “How was lunch, dear?”
“The food was good and Bucky and I got to talk a bit, which was… nice,” you answered, glancing around the shop and wondering if the place was bugged, too. Could he get access to the shop? Letting you continue to work seemed too good to be true, but he’d have nothing to worry about if he had eyes and ears there, too. “He’s taking me shopping tonight.”
She clapped her hands. “Oh, that’s wonderful! And don’t you dare be modest. Let him spoil you.”
“I have a feeling he’ll spoil me even if I don't ask him to,” you said.
Your whole experience with Bucky was whether you wanted it or not, so why would he stop now?
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As expected, Bucky arrived back at the shop a few hours later to pick you up. Instead of giving him the chance to go inside and speak to Mrs. Crandle again, you grabbed your bag and rushed out the door to greet him. He caught you easily when you nearly collided with him, and for the first time, you felt like you were intruding in his space instead of the other way around.
“Eager to see me?” He smiled, his voice teasing as he kept a hand on your shoulder and helped you into the vehicle when you didn’t immediately answer. “How was the rest of your shift? I hope no one else bothered you.”
Just you.
“It was uneventful. I got a lot done,” you replied, feeling a warmth spread through you from the normalcy of your afternoon. “And no one bothered me.” Your gaze flickered to him and he was hanging onto your every word. He also looked much more relaxed, like the moodiness at lunch never happened. “How about you? How was your day?”
“Also uneventful. A couple of boring calls. Kept thinking about you though and it got me through the day,” he said, slipping an arm around you as the car door closed. The way you two were speaking to each other sounded almost normal. Checking in on each other, seeing how the other was doing. “Steve asked about that double date.”
“I’m sure he’s excited for that,” you said, wondering if that poor coat check girl had any idea.
“We both are. You can find a dress for that, too,” he smiled fondly. “In fact, what would you think of me getting you a new wardrobe when you move in? Your style, your choice on everything. You name it.”
You raised an eyebrow, a mixture of surprise and uncertainty washing over you. “Is there something wrong with my current wardrobe?” You hadn’t done anything to deserve a whole new set of clothes and you hoped he wasn’t suggesting it to mold you more to his liking.
“Nothing wrong with it at all. You have great taste and I just want to spoil you,” he said, running a finger down your side. This was the man who let you go into his exclusive club wearing a dressed down outfit simply because it was you, so he’d probably let you get away with any sort of wardrobe you wanted. “Do you know how ravishing you look right now?”
“I’m not ravishing. I’m in my work clothes,” you muttered.
“You are ravishing,” he said, moving his finger back up as you shivered. “We should get some stargazer lilies for your first night in our home. I could strip you down, lay you out on our bed, and brush one of the petals along your skin.”
You inhaled sharply and closed your eyes, trying not to picture him spreading you out on a luxurious bed. He would say something like that when he was right in your space and you had nowhere to go. The man went from zero to sixty in seconds. No doubt he could feel you tremble and knew your heart was racing.
“Bet it’ll feel soft against your nipples,” he whispered, exhaling against your ear. “And your pussy.”
Your next breath was shallow, but you managed not to whimper. “Where are we going shopping?” You asked evenly, hoping to get to the destination sooner rather than later.
You stubbornly kept your eyes shut when he chuckled. “You’re changing the topic because you’re thinking about it, aren’t you? Worried you’ll get your panties soaked before we get to the shop?” He questioned, your heart thudding. You didn’t want to think about it at all. You wanted out of the car so you could properly breathe again. “I’m sorry. I’m not playing nice, am I? We’re going to one of your favorite stores and you can pick out whatever you want.”
You’d no doubt look at the price tags out of habit since you shopped on a budget and bought your nicer pieces on sale. “Do you ever really play nice?” You asked, opening your eyes. “One moment you’re being vulnerable and talking about your family and the next time I see you you’re talking about sleeping with me. I’m shocked the whiplash hasn’t scrambled my brain.”
The image of him destroying the utensil at lunch like it was nothing flashed in your mind for some reason. And him and his gang beating up John. Just how strong was he? Was he a killer?
“Sometimes we’ll talk about something tough or serious and the next it may be something more fun or intimate. That’s part of being in a relationship,” he said. If only it were an authentic relationship. “I want that with you, telling you what’s on my mind and how I feel.”
If he cared about what was on your mind or how you felt, he’d back off and let you have a bit of space. “Relationships are built on mutual respect and trust,” you said. Did he not see that the mutual respect wasn't there since he pushed for things to be his way? And trust was something he couldn't force no matter how powerful he was.
“I understand that. You also said a first date was getting to know each other and seeing if there's a mutual connection. I'm opening up to you, letting you get to know me. I’m getting to know you, too, beyond the things I knew in advance,” he said. What was he learning about you that he didn’t already know? “And you can't tell me you don't feel something for me.”
“Do you want me to tell you what you want to hear, Bucky? That I want you and want to be with you?” You asked. Even if you did develop feelings for him, it would have to be classified as some form of stockholm syndrome. And even then, strong feelings wouldn’t be enough. He wanted everything from you. “That I don’t want anyone else?”
The hand along your side crept up to your neck, tension heightening when he gently squeezed. He loved putting his hand around your throat. “You do want me, you do want to be with me, you’ll never want anyone else once I have you and I know you love how much I want you,” he spoke with confidence, like he could make the words come true as you took your next breath. “Should I check your panties before we go inside and feel how wet they are?”
You needed to distract him. Fight him. Do something. “What’s your love language?” You blurted out. “Physical Touch?”
“What?” He whispered, your heart still pounding when he slowly moved his hand away from your throat.
“Your love language. You constantly touch me when I’m close to you, so I guessed Physical Touch,” you explained. He always had a hand on you.
He sat back with a pensive look. “No one has ever asked me that.”
“Oh,” you said as the car rolled to a stop. You blindly reached for the door handle. “Well, it’s something to think about if you don’t know.”
He held your arm when you tried to get out. “You express yourself through Acts of Service with loving gestures and helping with tasks, but what you crave is Quality Time because you value meaningful interactions and connecting with people on a more personal level.”
You nodded slowly. It was why you loved hanging out with your girlfriends. You cherished making memories with them.
“You also appreciate Words of Affirmation, even if compliments make you feel uncertain because you sometimes feel overlooked. The combination of those languages makes you feel seen and heard,” he continued, giving you a tender smile. “I can hear and see you if you let me.”
You found yourself unable to speak as he gauged your reaction, your throat tight as if gripped by an unseen force. He nailed it right on the head about your love languages, didn't he? “I need air,” you whispered, letting yourself out of the car once he let you go.
The tightness in your throat moved to your heart. Bucky saw and heard you in his own way, didn't he? Not just as a passing thought but because he genuinely believed he loved you, deeply and wholeheartedly. The more he sank his fangs in, the more venom he injected. You had to be your own antidote.
With a shake of your head, you glanced up at the shop. True to his word, it was one you loved. Another piece of yourself that would now be tied to him.
You jumped when Bucky appeared beside you and took your arm. “You okay?” He asked, studying your face with gentle eyes.
“Just fine,” you replied, smiling for his sake. “Let's go shopping.”
You walked into the boutique together, the air filled with a subtle mix of lavender and something sweet that made you feel right at home. The space was a blend of trendy and rustic, exuding charm and intimacy. Clothes lined the wooden shelves and vintage racks, showcasing a variety of styles that ranged from casual to bold. Delicate accessories sparkled in the soft light, inviting you to explore.
You could easily find the perfect dress for the winery here.
“Hello! Welcome to… Oh! Mr. Barnes,” the associate smiled, her heels clicking on the floor. She was a picture perfect example of style and beauty. “I have the back dressing room set up and I’ll be sure no one disturbs you or your girlfriend. It was sundresses you requested, correct?”
Bucky looked proud of himself. “Yes, the perfect sundress for my girl,” he smiled, his blue eyes sparkling as he looked at you. “And whatever dress you choose, you’ll need jewelry. Oh, and a clutch.”
“Girlfriend?” You asked. He must not have wanted a repeat of how the hostess treated the two of you at lunch. “Wait, you already have dresses selected for me to try on?”
“He called and gave us all the details. And we’ll make sure you have everything you need,” the associate promised as Bucky nudged you ahead of him to follow her. Was anyone else in the shop? “Would either of you like a water?”
“No thank you,” you said. You were never offered a water when you shopped there before, but you were never there with Bucky Barnes.
“Just let me know if you need anything at all,” she smiled, opening the dressing room door.
Bucky thanked her as he took a seat in one of the chairs across from the door, watching you expectantly. “If you don't like any of them, we can go somewhere else.”
“I’m sure they're fine,” you said, going into the room and shutting the door before he could say anything else.
Quickly slipping off your shoes, pants, and top, you turned your attention to a small rack with a range of sundresses. Checking each tag as you pushed through them, none of them on sale, it wasn't a surprise that they were all your size. And all something you'd consider wearing. After flipping through the dresses twice, you decided to try on a sleeveless white dress with small rosebuds. It would be nice for a vineyard.
Before you could put the dress on, the door opened. “Need any help?” Bucky asked as you spun around in your bra and underwear, his eyes slowly scanning your body before you had a chance to cover yourself.
“No. I…” you trailed off as he stepped inside and shut the door behind him.
He stared at you for what felt like an eternity before he breathed your name, want written all over his face. The dressing room felt small. Hot. You could hardly breathe as panic threatened to overwhelm you. And you couldn't do anything but step back as he stepped closer, a predator ready to capture his prey.
Your back hit the mirror when he brought a hand to your chin, your knees shaking as he leaned in. “You’re right about one thing,” he said in a husky tone. “I do crave Physical Touch. Yours.”
He pressed his lips to yours, keeping you still and giving you no chance to turn your head away. It was a light, feathering sort of kiss before his tongue flicked out to trace your lips. He teased you until you opened up for him and allowed his tongue to sweep into your mouth. You couldn't think as he groaned and continued his claim. It was only a matter of time until he claimed you completely.
Bucky pulled away a little, his free hand moving down your torso in a possessive path. “Fuck, you taste so sweet,” he rasped. You felt so small, your insides both frozen and melting from his touch. “Just wanna take you home and make you ride my face before I fuck you.”
You gasped when his knee moved between your legs, your hands flying up to hold his arms. He rocked his leg and you felt power in the motion, a promise of what was to come once he had you where he wanted you. “Bucky,” you whispered. The next word out of your mouth was smothered by his lips, but he didn't increase the urgency in his kisses. He took his time. Like the world could be burning around you and he’d let the flames take over as long as he was kissing you.
You bit back a whimper when he rocked his knee harder, the friction sending heat to your core. Another roll of his body and you were certain you felt the outline of his cock. Bringing a hand to his chest, you lightly pushed. It was already going too far. To your surprise, he broke the kiss. His eyes were still hungry though. “You said you want to hear me?” You asked breathlessly, your lip trembling when his thumb brushed it. “Then not here, please,” you whispered, praying he'd stop.
If he was going to have you, it wouldn't be in a dressing room.
“Right. Not for our first time.” He tipped his head back as he took a breath, no doubt trying to control himself. “Just one more kiss, Kotyonok. One more for me to dream about tonight,” he groaned, bringing his face back to yours for one more kiss with fervor. Just when you thought it would turn more ravenous, he shifted to something soft, tender. A feeling that had both of you shaking when it ended, but likely for different reasons.
You stayed upright when he stepped back and gave you space, but your legs still shook as he straightened up his clothes and looked you over once more. If he could devour you with a look... “Thank you.” He actually listened to you and didn't push it any further.
He glanced down as he adjusted his pants and you tried to avoid looking at the tent he began to sport. Horror filled you when your gaze went lower to the wet spot by his knee. He hadn't gotten you off, but you both knew he sparked some arousal within you. “Can’t wait ‘til you really make a mess on my pants,” he smirked, walking out just as quietly as he entered the tiny room.
Fighting back tears once he shut the door, you touched your lips. Bucky finally kissed you. Your mouth still tingled. You still felt him there.
Glancing at the rack of dresses, you wished he really was a sweet boyfriend trying to spoil you just because he could. But he hadn't given you a chance to pick them out yourself. He spoke for you, like you were a doll. It was just another piece he put in place for his twisted puzzle of your relationship.
What was wrong with you?
You pulled your clothes back on and flung the door open so hard it almost hit the wall. Bucky’s smug look immediately changed to concern when you walked out holding a sundress. “This one's fine,” you said in a flat tone.
“Are you sure?” He asked, sitting up more in his chair. “You didn't try it on, did you?”
“It’s the one I want,” you said, calling for the associate before Bucky had a chance to argue. You gave her a stiff smile when she joined you and handed over the garment, feeling Bucky’s eyes on you. “Whatever jewelry and handbag you think will go with this, I’ll take it. I trust your judgment.”
“Oh, this dress is lovely and we have the perfect accessories for this. Would you like to look at shoes as well? Or maybe something to go with any of the other dresses?” She asked, her eyes wide as you brushed past her. “Miss?”
“I’m sorry. I need to step outside,” you said, not wanting to be rude to her.
Bucky called after you, but you ignored him. You were furious with yourself. You let him kiss you and allowed some of his words to get under your skin. He didn't fuck you, but he still won, didn't he? And you were letting him. Just like with everything else.
You took two steps out of the shop before you felt a grip on your arm. “Woah. Slow down,” Bucky said, turning you to face him. “What’s wrong?”
Everything.
“It doesn't matter, but if you really want to see and hear me, please, pay attention,” you said, yanking your arm away. “I want to go home.”
“Why? Is it because that kiss meant something to you and you don't want to admit it?” He asked, a soft smile tugging at his lips. “If you're embarrassed that it made you wet, don't be. I'm flattered. Besides, it got me hard.”
Heat filled your cheeks and you wanted to smack him. There was a fine line between the delusion he had in his head and the reality of the situation. The tightrope you were walking was close to snapping. “I’m not embarrassed. I can't breathe.” You stepped back, trying to give yourself space. Was Ray watching from the car? “Everything in my life recently has revolved around you or you being there. Say what you want about me being lonely, it doesn't give you an excuse to take over.”
Bucky’s smile slipped, like he was really seeing how bothered you were. “I told you I just want to love you. And you enjoy Quality Time.”
“Quality Time when we agree upon it. And love itself should be the thing to take my breath away, not you smothering me,” you gently stated.
“I’m not trying to smother you.” He shifted like he was the one uncomfortable, his gaze flicking to the ground. “I… I know you can't breathe,” he said, lifting a hand as if to reach out before he dropped it and took a deep breath. “That’s why I'm leaving you alone tomorrow,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper.
“You're what?” You asked in disbelief, catching the hint of vulnerability in his eyes as his shoulders dropped. He hadn't left you alone since he broke in. Why in the world would he stop now?
“I was going to bring it up when I dropped you off.” His hand worked its way through his hair. “I’ve been thinking about it and talking and… I’m smothering you. I know I am. Rearranging your schedule, making you meet my friends, and everything else. So…” He reached for you this time and took your hand. “I’m giving you a breather and I’m not going to be around tomorrow. No surprise visits. No calls. Maybe a text, but nothing more.”
You blinked. “So, we won't see each other tomorrow?” You tried not to get too excited. It was only a day, but between that and the girls day that was still something. You had to go the cautiously optimistic route again and take what you got.
But you also couldn't help but wonder why he was really giving you that space. Did Ray or someone say something to him? Was this another ploy to keep you in line?
“You won't see me. God knows I’ll miss you, but it's just a day, right?” He squeezed your hand. “Maybe you’ll miss me, too.”
“I appreciate you giving me that space,” you said sincerely. He needed that space, too, even if he didn't believe it. “And maybe I will.”
“We won't have to miss each other much longer once we're together in the penthouse,” he said, his tone soft and your heart sinking. “Will you answer one thing: Did that kiss mean something to you?”
You didn't want to answer that. If you denied it, it would be a lie or he’d either see through it or snap. If you confirmed it, it would feed him more hope. You still had to examine your feelings because you were afraid and you couldn't think with him staring at you with those longing eyes.
“It meant something,” you answered, not expanding on what exactly it meant when he exhaled. It wasn't smart to let him decipher it how he wished because he could use it against you later.
He took your breath away once more when he pulled you close and brushed his lips against yours. Just as quickly as he started, he stopped and brushed his nose against yours. Any passerby would think it was a sweet moment between a couple making up from an argument. “Thank you,” he whispered, his thumb moving along the racing pulse in your wrist. “Come back inside, please? Pick out a few things for real and then I’ll take you home so you can relax.”
You remembered that the bugs were still in your apartment, which took some more of your enthusiasm away. But if Bucky was really going to leave you alone tomorrow, you’d have to appreciate the time to yourself. Maybe you could pack a bag and get out of the city even sooner than planned.
It wouldn't hurt to try, right? What was the worst that could happen? Making him freak out over your safety? That could be bad.
“Okay. A few things for real and then home,” you agreed.
“That’s my girl.” He turned and paused at the door with a smile. “Can I at least help you try on the dress? Or you can model it for me and I'll tell you how beautiful you are.”
You smiled back a little. “Don't push your luck,” you said, missing the pair of blue eyes that watched you and Bucky go back into the shop.
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So, a little bit of action. 😏 Will it be enough to tide Bucky over? Is he really going to leave you alone for a day? Who was watching you? Love and thanks for reading! ❤️
Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi
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bxnfire · 2 days ago
Text
Lines Blurred || Satoru Gojo
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✎ synopsis: Heartbroken after dating “the boy of your dreams” you’re looking towards living a new life, one with new people and possibly new experiences, except the light hearted fun you hoped for became something stronger than that
✎ warnings/content: smut, fluff, tiiiny bit of angst, fingering, oral (both receiving), p in v, fwb, pet names, college!au
✎ a/n: this is my first ever fic!! english is not my first language, so please excuse any faulty grammar. please lmk if you have any suggestions or comments, they’d help a lot ❤️
✎ part 2 here
ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ˏ ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ˏMINORS DNI ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ˏ ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ˏ
It had been 3 months since your last relationship ended. You dated one of your closest friends, and tauntingly enough, he was also in your friend group. Having spent your summer heartbroken and trying to move past things, if you were certain of anything it was that you wanted to spend the least amount of time in his presence, something near impossible if you also wanted to be around your friend group, therefore, you decided it was time for a change.
You had been friends with Shoko for a while, but didn’t really know her friends nor hung around her much, and seeing how she got you through your heart ache you decided it’d be a good idea to stick to her.
💬 Shoko ❤️: you comin w us for lunch?
💬 You: sure thing!
You were nervous. Geto seemed so hard to read, you wondered if he’d be annoyed by your presence, and you didn’t know Gojo at all. Would they like you? Would they make you wish you were back with your other friends? Would they welcome you like Shoko did?
All your questions suddenly coming to a stop when you felt someone bump into you.
“My bad! I got caught up playing ball over there, please let me know if I hurt you,” said an energetic but apologetic voice. As you turned to look at the speaker, you noticed you were met with his chest instead, and looking up at him, you realized it was none other than Satoru Gojo.
“No worries! You just caught me off guard, but I’m good,” you said reassuringly.
“Wait! Aren’t you Shoko’s friend? What was it,” he hesitated, then said “Y/l/n, right?”
Surprised he knew about you at all, you unknowingly smiled at his recognition. “Yes, that’s me!”
“I remember her talking about you,” he smiled, “she said you were going through it. Is that true? Are you feeling better now?”
Embarrassment ran through you. As your cheeks turned pinker than usual, you scratched your head and replied “yes, that’s true. Luckily, I’m doing better, but as you’ve probably heard I’ll be hanging with you guys for now. I hope we can get acquainted soon!”
“Sure we will, see ya around Y/l/n!” He said as he ran off back into the field to play once again.
You didn’t know it yet, but in no time Gojo would be your door to a new world.
ˋ°•*⁀➷ ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ˏ
One month had passed, and Gojo was more than just your friend. It had started innocently enough, sending each other dumb reels, sharing snacks, and even studying together.
You found yourself enjoying your conversations with him more than you enjoyed anyone else’s. He was really easy to talk to, and was always there to lift you up and make you smile whenever you felt down. His easygoing nature making you feel at ease with him, something you realized you were missing more than you originally thought.
It was no secret that he was very attractive, his beautiful blue eyes every girl seemed to fall for surely had similar effects on you. His cocky confidence made him even more likable to you, was there anything this man couldn’t do? His build was also very attractive, not too muscular but still built enough to be easily noticeable whenever he hugged you or took his shirt off, something you found yourself treasuring more and more.
It was all friendly until one night the jokes started to change tone, and after a week of tension, and stolen glances, you finally had enough of his teasing.
💬 Gojo 🍰: y/l/n, do u think u could do this?
💬 Gojo 🍰: *VID*
💬You: oh please, that’s nothing. i’ve fit bigger things than that banana in my mouth before
💬 Gojo 🍰: oh is that so?
💬 You: yes 🤭
💬 Gojo 🍰: what if i don’t believe you?
💬 You: well in that case i’d have to convince you right?
💬 Gojo 🍰: and how would that be?
💬 You: come to my dorm and find out
Gojo was running. Unbeknownst to you, he had been into you for a while, even before you two officially met. He remembers the beginning of your sophomore year in college. You two had ethics together, and he remembers you as the kind girl who helped everyone around you. Anybody could come to you if they didn’t understand something, and indirectly, he’s learned a lot from you. Shit, you were the only reason why he passed that boof ass course. The only reason to keep him coming. In the halls, he’d gotten to see your humor. Playing silly pranks in your friends, hiding phones for fun, having sassy remarks ready whenever the time called for them, and how loudly, although cutely in his eyes, you laughed at your friends’ jokes.
In no time, he found himself easily picking out your voice from others, differentiating your laugh in a sea of noise, and noticing you whenever you were around. But oh, he really disliked your boyfriend. Not hated of course! Never that, he wasn’t a hateful person… Though if he were to be, he’d hate him. Your stupid boyfriend who didn’t do well in class and didn’t care enough to ask for your help, who believed anyone’s opinions about your relationship over yours, and who, in the end, preferred to spend time with anyone else but you.
In retrospective, he didn’t really hate your ex; if anything, he started to like him. After all, after he proved he was too shitty for you, you were smart enough to leave him, meaning Satoru finally had a chance with you. He was more than psyched when Shoko told him you were sticking around for a bit, something that didn’t go unnoticed by her, but she knew Satoru could do you better than your ex did, so she let it slide.
You, on the other hand, were a wreck. Letting your lust get the best of you didn’t let you truly think through what you were about to do. What if this screwed your newfound friendship over? What if he didn’t actually want you? What if…
Your thoughts were interrupted once again by Gojo, but this time it was through a text.
💬 Gojo 🍰: open ur door
Running to your door, you gave yourself a second to shake the nerves off before opening the door. There stood Gojo, so handsome even with his white hair messy from running and his clothes a little rustled, making it obvious he wanted to waste no time getting here. His smile, shy but curious, didn’t go unnoticed by you.
“You’re so goddamn thirsty,” you tell him, finding enough confidence to smile back.
“You don’t even know,” he whispers as he gets closer to you while shutting the door behind him.
Next thing you know, you’re pinned against the wall with his hands all over your body. His kisses are desperate yet gentle, as if he had been waiting for so long he was scared this was just a dream, one he didn’t dare wake up from. Flushing at that thought, you tangled your hands in his hair and pulled him even closer, something that ignited a fire in him.
Until he woke up and stopped. He pulled away for a second, looking into your confused eyes.
“Are you sure you want to do this? Don’t get me wrong, I want to keep going, but I’d rather not make you uncomfortable ‘cause I know you may not be ready yet.”
This makes you smile. Couldn’t he tell how down bad you were for him? You truly found it sweet that he cared, but in that moment all you wanted was to have him down your throat. “I’m as ready as all I’ll ever be, unless you’re scared of course,” you reply, trying to bring back the mood.
“Scared? Baby you have no idea of how long I’ve waited for this, if anything, you should be scared of how desperately I want you,” and with that, he pulls you back in for a more passionate kiss.
Your response gave him the confidence to get bolder. His hands now ran under your shirt, every breath you took making them go a centimeter upper, until he eventually reached the hem of your bra. Shifting from your mouth to your neck, his kisses starting to get slower but more calculated, you started to moan at his touch, and in no time you felt something starting to poke your stomach. This made you even more flustered, and a familiar warmth pooled between your legs.
He picked you up and laid you down on your bed. Kissing your neck slowly, your whimpers get louder and louder as he presses him self against you, giving your soaking cunt well-received pressure.
Wanting to please him, you instinctively changed your positions so that you were on top of him and kissing down his body.
“Take this off,” you commanded.
“Who’s the thirsty one now?” He asked as he took his shirt off.
“Shut up. You came here so I could prove my point yeah?” You asked trying to hold on to you wavering confidence. His bulge was big, bigger than you would’ve thought it to be, but you were ready to take it, you wanted to taste him so bad.
Going over to him and taking his pants off, he stopped your hand from going further. You look up at him confused, wondering if you were doing something wrong.
“I want you to promise me something.” He said, looking deep into your eyes.
“And what would that be?” You asked, trying to guess what he could possibly be asking you.
“If you’re gonna show me your skills, it’s only fair I get to show you mine. Can’t let you one up me,” he said playfully, hoping you’ll let him in a little closer.
“Sounds good to me, but I don’t think you’ll be one upping me in any way,” you say, not wasting any time and going back to what you were doing.
Sliding down his underwear, his arousal sprung out, bigger and thicker than you thought it’d be. Giving it a few experimental strokes, your hand moved along his shaft trying to see what he liked, but to no avail, given that he was very reactive to all your touches, and this only encouraged you. Opting for leaving one hand at his balls and getting closer to him, you lick all over his dick.
Gojo is fucking losing it. He’s gripping the sides of your couch trying not to buck his hips into you. Who would’ve thought that all those late nights hopelessly scrolling through your profile stroking himself silly would eventually lead him to your bed were your mouth would finally replace his hands?
“F-Fuck, yeah, just like that,” he breathed out, lost in the feeling of your tongue deliciously swirling around his tip as you took him deeper in your mouth.
He started bucking his hips into your mouth soon after, gripping your hair and guiding your movements, fucking your face as he noticed how well you were taking it. As he was near the edge, he pulled your head away, once again leaving you confused.
“Why didn’t you let me finish the job?” You asked him almost mad, you wanted to see how he tasted.
“I want to make you cum first, told ya you won’t be one upping me tonight.”
“Oh really? You know I don’t need my mouth to make you cum right?” You say as you sit on his lap and start making out with him and put your hand to work. Since he was close not that long ago, you knew he’d be worked up enough to not take long to cum. Gojo was no longer kissing you as dominantly as before, having to take breaks to breathe and even moan under your touch.
Not even 10 minutes passed until he came all over your hand. Sticky ropes of cum shooting out coating your fingers, his abdomen, and your pants. Moving your hand to your mouth to suck his cum off your fingers, you look at him seductively. He wanted to be a brat and take control, but just watching you do that made him his dick throb once again.
Kissing you, now tasting himself in your mouth, he took your shirt off and tried to take your bra off. Inexperienced, he fumbled many times, which made you both laugh.
“Talk about one upping me and you can’t even take my bra off. What’s next, you won’t be able to find my clit?” You tease, doing the job for him.
“Oh please, let’s see who ends up begging for more by the end of the night,” he challenged, and for the first time, you realized you wouldn’t mind losing at all.
You were about to reply, but you realized he was no longer focused on your little banter. His eyes were glued to your bare chest, scanning every inch of your skin, wanting to remember everything for later, archive it in a special place in his brain.
“You’re so beautiful,” he says.
“You’re so fucking horny,” you reply, knowing better than to believe lust-filled words.
“I mean it! I’ve thought so even before we met,” he confessed, giving you no time to respond as he took one of your tits into his mouth while he played with the nipple in your other tit by rubbing it between his thumb and index finger.
Moans took over the room. Your smart mouth not shut, but rather occupied making progressively louder sounds in response to Gojo’s touch.
“Oh p-please G-Gojo!” You mewl, melting in his touch.
“Satoru.” He responds
“H-Huh?”
“Call me Satoru. You tried my nut, I think that’s enough to be on first name basis,” he joked, and in any other circumstance you would’ve laughed, but you were too caught up in the pleasure he was giving you.
“S-Satoru I-I need m-more!! Please give me more!!” You struggled to get out, but once you did, Satoru got to work quick pulling down your shorts and kissing down your torso to reach your thighs.
He licked, bit, and kissed around them, wanting to test how impatient you could get. It didn’t take you long to tug on his hair and pull him into you, his nose deliciously coming in contact with your soaked cunt, only the thin, wet fabric of your panties between you. Bringing one hand down to jerk himself while the other pulled your panties down to start kissing your sweet pussy, until he goes up to your clit and starts sucking it lightly, making sure you knew he was well aware of where it was and how to treat it.
His other hand reached up to your entrance and one digit started pumping into you. Your moans got louder and louder, and Satoru was wondering just how much longer he had until you were over the edge. Sticking in another digit and matching its curling pattern to the one inside made you start seeing stars, so lost in your own pleasure you couldn’t even manage to tell him you were about to come undone.
Eager to see you cry for him, all of a sudden he stopped, seeing your cute little flushed face with teary eyes look at him enraged.
“Why’d you stop?” You ask, forgetting all your pride and letting him know just how much he worked you up.
“Can’t have you wasting your arousal sweets. If you’re gonna cum, it better be all over my cock.” He said, waiting to see if he had fingered you dumb or if you had a smart remark for him.
“Then don’t fucking waste your time.” You replied, sitting on his dick and riding him to your own pleasure.
“S-Shit! You’re s-so big!” You moan, ecstasy reaching your system once again.
“This dick is all yours babe. Do as you p-please with me,” he replied, having a hard time keeping his composure as he watched your tits bounce in his face and feel you clenching his dick so fucking good.
It didn’t take you long to reach your climax, and seeing that you were unable to keep up with your own pace, Satoru took over and fucked you through your orgasm as he came closer and closer to his own. Pulling out in one quick motion, he came on your belly and kissed you as he did.
You both laid there quietly, trying to process everything that had just happened, not daring to say a word but also make a move away from each other. You were consumed in your thoughts until Satoru snaps you out of it.
“You impressed me sweets, you’re even sweeter than you look, and you take dick like a fuckin’ soldier,” he said as he caressed your face and you laughed with him.
“You’ve fucked a soldier before? Do those uniforms turn you on?” You reply playfully, happy that it’s almost like nothing has changed at all.
“Yes I have, she’s right in front of me, and I’ll need that soldier pussy putting me out of combat often,” he laughed as he said so, returning your energy as he always did.
You lay there naked just basking in each other’s presence, giving the bubble separating you from the rest of the world a little more time before bursting. Satoru ended up spending the night, but since he had a morning class the day after and you didn’t, he bought you breakfast before leaving your dorm.
You woke up to your favorite kind of coffee along with a butter croissant and a note in his unmistakable handwriting.
“Don’t miss me too much!! After lab is over I’m coming right back, so don’t leave juuust yet, I wanna see ya again ❤️
—Satoru”
Giggling, you sipped the drink as you recounted the events from last night, the memories flooding through and clouding your brain, making you genuinely wish he would come back soon.
Even then, after your daze was over, you really sat down to think of it all. Satoru was known for being a ladies’ man, could you just be another one of his conquests? You loved him, but you couldn’t stand to lose yet another friend due to your stupid feelings. Unsuspecting of his feelings for you, you decided to make it clear that you would just stay friends once he came back. Friends that were there for each other, but if the time came, friends that could call each other on those late, restless nights. This would be a sweet deal would it not? Or at least that’s what you told yourself.
Once Satoru came you acted normal. The usual banter between you two never failing to appear, but you could tell something had shifted. High fives or fist bumps were changed to hugs a little too long or kisses a little too intimate. Whenever people couldn’t see you, your usual friendly bickering turned into heated makeout sessions, always testing who gave into the other first.
Even if you placed the boundaries, ones that Satoru adhered to and respected almost religiously, you felt the dangerous beat of your heart whenever his name popped up on your phone or you happened to see him by chance. Once calling each other friends started to hurt, you knew you were screwed.
What you didn’t know though was how hurt he was too. How it pained him to have to hide his love for you all because he was scared you didn’t want to date him after all. He spent an awful lot of time dreaming of what it could be like if you were more than just friends with fucking benefits, if you would let him truly take care of you the way you deserved to be taken care of, if you could only give him a chance to prove that love, when good, is worth it after all. But he knew better than to push your limits, and so, he kept stealing glances, longing for your touch, and clinging to your little fuck sessions in hopes that one day, you’d see he had loved you all along.
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hearts4werka · 2 days ago
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NNN day 3 | Skin Deep Scars
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summary: you’ve been born into a rich controlling family, always having to stay on top and never cross the line. You tried to please your mother but never could be enough for your mother’s standards, your father was mostly at work and away at business trips so both of you hardly ever interacted with each other. That’s until you got into an argument about your new friend chris who was the polar opposite of you, what do you think will happen next?
warnings: ANGST, !parental abuse!, arguing (again ik), family issues, swearing, manipulation, controlling mother figure, !burning skin!, slight fighting, crying, !mentions of childhood trauma! And this contains sensitive topics for many (even me) so please I advice to read this with caution and knowingly what you’re consuming.
authors note: day 3 is behind us now, thank yall so much for all of the love on the past fics I seriously rlly appreciate it. Yall can drop some ideas for future days and fics outside of this in my inbox and I’ll be happy to write them, I don’t have my computer with me rn so I’ll make the gradient text when I’m at my computer again, hope y’all enjoy this one
no nut november | masterlist | guestlist
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Escalated screams and yells fill the large space of the room, making my ears want to fall off as foul words continue to fall from my mother’s mouth. It’s not the first time my mother has yelled at me for the most stupidest bullshit ever known to mankind and this is one of them, somehow it never turned psychical between us which could be a shocker for some of the others considering how loud she is screaming and shouting that you would think she’d hit me by now or at least threaten to.
“You are bringing such shame to this family! It’s unacceptable!” She shouts, her face contoured with pure anger. I might as well see smoke coming out of her ears by now, rolling my eyes as I feel my own anger rise inside of me at how ridiculous she is being right now. “I bring shame? What about you sleeping around behind dad’s back, huh?” I argue back, not letting her bring me down and standing my ground. She gasps dramatically as if I insulted her whole bloodline, pressing her hand to her chest to make her seem more like a victim.
“Don’t you dare speak of that! This isn’t about my mistakes, it’s about yours!” She attempts to defend her name but fails miserably, thinking if she raises her voice higher than me she’ll have the high ground and take the upper hand in this argument. “You’re the one that’s hanging out with that street rat and even dare to invite him to this house!” My blood boils to high temperatures at her insult targeted towards Chris, well she isn’t very fond of him and his lifestyle or he of how she treats me from all of the stories I’ve previously told him.
Summarizing that thought, their hatred is mutual towards themselves. “Don’t bring him into this, he has nothing to do with this! It was one lower grade, mom!” I yell defensively, the level of my irritation rising with each second of just breathing in the tense air in the room. “That he caused by the influence he has on you! I just want the best for you, honey.” She tries to twist her tone into a softer one but I can feel the fakeness radiating off it the minute it comes past her lips, how pathetic.
“You aren’t convincing anyone with that fake tone, that’s for sure.” I state annoyingly as she attempts to move closer to me but when she sees me backing away she just gives up with trying to convince me into doing anything she wants with the same old method and decides on a newly invented one. “Fine, maybe I wont convince you at least but your father is pretty gullible and he’ll do anything I ask him to do. Even if i feed him a couple lies involving you and that little skank.”
I narrow my eyes at her, not believing her words at first until she shoots me a specific look which informs me she isn’t playing around, raising her eyebrow and slightly dipping her chin just always has her whole bitchy personality written all over her face in that moment. My face normally would drop in color but at this point I didn’t care, she brought Chris into this who has nothing to do with this and shouldn’t be assumed as the cause of my lower grade. It was one of the hardest exams this semester and even when I studied harder than ever and got the highest grade in my class, she still doesn’t appreciate my hard work.
My head decides its the perfect time to bring up the first time I got a lower grade, being only at the age as young as seven she was already pressuring me into being perfect and didn’t even allow me to have a normal childhood only filling me with more work and mental pressure I often was too tired to do anything the next morning after studying all night in hopes to attempt to please my mother but no matter what I did, she never fully appreciated it and always found something bad to point out.
Start of Flashback
I excitedly run into the living room with my test clutched in my head, my dress flowing in the slight breeze coming from the window. A proud smile spread on my face as I reach the living room where mommy resided in sitting on the couch, holding up my paper for her vision to see the teachers red mark saying ‘79/100’ in the corner of the paper. “Look mommy, my teacher said I got the highest grade in my class on the test!” I exclaim proudly, waiting for my applause but was met with silence. Tilting my head to the side to glance at my mommy confused on why she is quiet but she had only a disgusted and an unimpressed look shadowing her face.
She notices my confused expression and finally speaks, turning her head away from me and back at the tv “Honey, that’s not good enough for this family. Study harder next time.” She states without any sympathy in her voice as she goes back to her activity like nothing happened, my eyes slightly start to water. Why am I not good enough for mommy? Why isn’t mommy proud of me and saying nice words like my teacher was? My arms drop down to my sides with the paper still clutched in my small arms.
“What do you mean, mommy?” I ask curiously, my voice becoming slight wobbly as shaky breaths enter an exit past my lips. “My teacher said I did great and even gave me a lollipop!” I add, now my sadness being evident and that’s when mommy looked at me and sees me upset. “Oh baby, you know what I told you about eating too much sweets. And a 76 isn’t high enough for the reputation our family has.” She says in a reassuring voice, seeming as if she wanted the best for me and me being the gullible and innocent child, not realizing she’s manipulating me into doing whatever her heart desired and shaping me into a perfect little toy to play in her game.
“I just want the best for you honey and you know that, I would never do anything to hurt you, ever.” She calmly assured in a soft tone, she walks over to me and wipes my tear-stained cheek with her thumb and looks at me with fake sympathy mixed with fake remorse. “Now go to your room and study for the next test, mommy has to go attend to some things, okay?” I nod my head yes and ran off into my room, the paper flying out of my hand and landing in the floor. My body immediately jumping onto my bed and bury my face into the nearby pillow as I clutch my favorite stuffed animal to my chest…
End of Flashback
I remember crying the rest of the night and thought it was normal and everyone’s mother was pressuring them into being better than every other kid and always perfect to upkeep the family’s ‘perfect’ reputation. Now that I’ve grown up and caught onto my mother’s manipulative acts, letting me have the upper hand in some regards. “You’re pure goddamn evil, I can’t believe you’re trying to scare me with dad out of all people.” I huff, feeling my body become more tense by the second before adding. “Better than one of the guys you cheated on dad with.” After the words leave my mouth, she immediately darts towards me and gets impossibly closer to my face. Glaring at me as if she wanted to strangle the shit out of me.
“I said, don’t you dare bring that into this situation, young lady!” She warns, her voice completely shifting from fake sympathy to rage and evilness. One of her hands raises and she sticks out her finger, getting it in my face as if to try and scare me further but I only laugh in her face. “One more word out of your mouth and I make one call to your father, singing like a bird to him about all of the things you’ve said to your own mother.” She wipes imaginary tears off from under her eyes, pretending to be upset and hurt as if she���s the victim here. “You’re such an ungrateful brat, I’m surprised we haven’t kicked you out the house yet. You always disappoint us and bring total shame to the family.”
An evil laugh rumbles in her throat, I don’t see her as a loving mother I thought I had. No, I see her as the worst and most controlling mother ever known to mankind and I feel ashamed being in the proximity of her and letting her walk all over me like a doormat. She takes a few steps back and finally puts some distance between our bodies, I sharply inhale the tense air surrounding us as the following words fall from her mouth that I was just waiting for her to speak.
“I regret you were even born, more with every passing minute. Me and your father never wanted a girl, but a boy and at one point were debating to put you in an orphanage or give you away, another decision I regret making.”
Before my mother could say another word, I deliver a slap across her face and throw the words out of her mouth. She looks up at me, completely livid and fet up with this little cat fight between us. “That’s it, you’re getting punished hardly this time.” She angrily exclaims and roughly grasps my arm, dragging me into the kitchen by pure mad force. I try to escape her vice grip but it only makes it tighter, the feeling of pain and a bruise coming in spreads across my whole body as I see her walking towards the stove.
I start to get more desperate to escape, almost beginning to scream for her to stop and don’t do what I know she’s about to do. She did it before when I talked back to her ever and looks like today her strings popped too much, we get to the stove and she ticks it on, the flame blooming to life as she forces my arm above it. “Please, mom dont do this…” I weakly plead as the burning sensation starts to hit my skin, spreading across my whole arm. I cry out in pain and pleads for her to stop, quiet curses falling from my lips as she only glances at me sternly. Tears prick my eyes and burn down my cheeks, she continues to hold my arm over the flames and brings it closer.
My body starts squiring around, my pleads getting more and more desperate as more tears fall from my eyes. “Stop! Please, mom I’m begging you stop!” Shaky breaths fill the air and accompany the growing cries and pleads to my mother. “Stop moving around, you brat! Are you going to still be disobedient towards me now?” She asks mockingly as I think she’s going to burn my skin off, someone pushes her off me and I immediately fall to the ground in pure agony. The uncontrollable cries continuing to fall from my mouth, my eyes landing on the severe burn mark left behind on my arm, my eyes start to burn themselves from the amount of tears filling them at once
“What in the actual fuck is happening here?” I hear a familiar voice yell out as I don’t think about who it could be until they kneel down next to me and I realize it’s Chris, I forgot I invited him over today. I can’t believe he’s seeing me in this state right now, he glances at my arm and immediately grasps it gently into his hands. “Jesus Christ, we need to get you some serious help, cmon we gotta go to the hospital.” He calls out and helps me get up and stand on my feet, rushing me out of the house and looking around for something to quickly get me where I severely need to be right now. “You got a private driver here somewhere?” He questions and I nod negatively, there aren’t any available unless you ask for one beforehand.
‘Fuck, umm- okay then let’s just take.. your car!” He exclaims nervously, pointing towards one of the cars in the driveway. Quickly running over to it and rushing me inside of it, getting into the drivers seat and trying to start the car. When he finally gets a hang of the functioning of the car he quickly presses down on the gas and speeds out of the driveway and towards the hospital…
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Guestlist!
| - @sturnioloblues - @sturnsxplr-25 - @strnzzvsp - @luvvs4chriss - @sturniolosweetheart33 - @pussypie456 - @choclatestarfishwithahat - @venusxsturnio - @bagsbyclair0 - @sturnstvs - @dykes4chris - @hoe4matt - @cayleeuhithinknot - @strnilolover - @marrykisskilled - |
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m3vl0vesu · 3 days ago
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𝑵𝒐𝒕 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒇𝒂𝒖𝒍𝒕
A/N: Fluff! For once...but not really this is a simple one-shot but kind of mixed in with the rest of my Spidey stuff iykwim. Starts out a little sad. I also just bend the rules of how spidey senses work to go with the fic
!IT IS A ONE-SHOT PEOPLE.!
A reckless Spidey
An injured Spidey
Your thoughts
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Tap.
Tap.
Tap.
You tapped the edge of the building, watching the way your legs swung back and fourth. It was insufferable. You were insufferable, it's why the mission went hay wire. It was your fault. Your fault. Seven people got severely injured because of your carelessness.
"Spidey..."
What's worse is that he was here, Nightwing. The 'guardian of Bludhaven' his words always made you feel worse. How embarrassing
Nghtwing was a natural leader, his instructions were clear. The tabloids were right, Gotham didn't need a 'friendly neighbourhood Spider' they needed soldiers. Robin was right, he was better. Whywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhy
Your hands gripped the edge, the guilt pounded in your head. Why couldn't thing go your way for once? "Spidey. Look at me"
God. Why did he have to use that tone? You royally fucked up, who manages to make made Nightwing mad?
"Kid, I'm not mad." Lies. But might as well humour him
"And what, your 'just disappointed?'" You added, mocking his voice. Earning a tired sigh from him. Wow, how hostile.
"Can you at least come a bit closer? You're going to fall..." "So? I'll just swing away." You could barely listen to his words, all your senses going off. There was always danger in Gotham, it never stopped but it was manageable. Unless something big happened, so you right now you were fighting the urge to cry. .
.
.
A long silence followed, for a second you thought he was gone. Until you felt his presence next to you, great. "I'm fine dude." "And for some reason I don't believe you." Ha ha very funny, you totally weren't stressing right now or anything. You felt him nudge you lightly, "you can't save everyone, you know that right?" You knew that more than anyone, the people you knew, the things you lost. It was common knowledge, but it didn't excuse your behaviour- "But you did?" What?
"What?" "Yeah, things could've been a lot worse if it wasn't for your quick thinking." "But...It was worse because of me." He just shrugged. Shrugged?? Hello? "I'm pretty sure that was group effort, so don't be so tough on yourself." He turned to you, a gentle smile displayed on his face. You couldn't see his eyes behind the mask but you could tell that they were kind ones. He had always been the one hero you looked up to most, it was still weird thinking about how you were now technically co-workers. You wanted to tell him everything, but you couldn't even open your mouth to say thank you. If you did, there was a high chance of you sobbing, please let it just stop here. You didn't know how many more kind words you could take. "Look, you're still new to this whole crime thing, but you're doing well. And I'm not just talking about the big fights with scarecrow and things like that.." Oh god. "..you, helping the little guys really matters. Batman tends to get caught up in all those huge fights but all he wants to do is keep the people safe and cared for. Like you do, all that energy and happiness it's important."
Please stop
"You...you remind of someone." Fuck, these words are not helping. Ha.
He got up and got down from the building, not before giving you a gentle squeeze. Now you were sure that you were going to throw up. After a few minutes of soaking in his words you decided to finally go home. .
.
. Managing to slip onto the fifth floor unseen for the hundredth time you feel your body go tense. If only you could relax at home like you used to, with the people you loved. You stole one of your aunts shirts from her room. A room that hadn't been used in a while. When you entered the kitchen you noticed something by the door, it was a note that was slide under. Odd. .
.
. EVICTION NOTICE
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hw4-l1z · 2 days ago
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hi! I was the one who requested the "fuck the stress out of me" fic. I loved it so much omg I was just reading it for like the 15th time. I got another one if you don't mind
<3 take you time with it tho <3
instrumentalist reader and hyunjin. hyunjin has always admired reader's fingers, how they would move so flexibly on a violin, or so fast on a piano. he sends a text to one of his members like ("omg his fingers I swear. i'm so jealous of his future partner") or smth along those lines, but he accidentally sends it to mn. and then mn fingers him so damn well.
sincerely, me, a violinist, living vicariously through this.
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Idk much about instruments so...sorry I tried😭
Sub!hyunjin x Dom!m!reader
Cw: fingering// hyunjin almost has a panic attack// spit as lube// finger sucking// mentions of saliva// handjob//
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Hyunjin= purple text
Reader= green text
It was a simple little mistake. His stupid ass fingers clicked the wrong contact. He hadn't realized until he got a message from you, seeing that your message had made no sense he clicked on the notification thinking maybe YOU text the wrong person.
His heart fucking dropped. His confused expression turned into a face of pure fear. There he saw that his message that was meant for felix was instead sent to you. He was so embarrassed face turning red as he read over his own message again and again.
It was a picture of your hands whilst you were playing the piano followed by:
"HOLY SHIT HIS HANDS HIS FUCKING HANDS, HIS FINGERS AHHHH I NEED THEM IN ME NOW"
"His future partner is gonna be so fucking lucky GOD I'M JEALOUS"
How could he be so stupid. He should've properly looked at the contact he was sending these texts to ESPECIALLY since they were horny ones. It's common for him and lix to send messages thirsting over men but now he's not sure he wants to be doing that anymore. He reads over your message.
"Ummm...thank you?? Was that meant for me?"
He was about to reply apologising before the speech bubble appears signalling that you're typing.
"Hyunjin?"
"Are you still in the building? Where are you I wanna talk to you"
His heart begins to pound in his chest, his breathing picks up as his eyes well up with tears. He's about to have a panic attack. He can't believe this is happening. He wants to message you back but the other part of him wants to block your number and avoid you for the rest of his life. But he loves you too much to cut you out his life like that so he decides to message back.
"Y/n, I'm so fucking sorry"
"I'm still here I'm in chan-hyung's studio"
"It's alright let me just talk to you, come back to the room"
"Please"
He stand up on shaky legs as he leaves the studio room and towards the room you're in. He stands outside the door for a minute, trying to calm himself down and wipe away his tears. He builds up the courage finally, knocking on the door lightly before opening the door. You're sitting there patiently wating on the small couch in the room. You look up at him and tell him to sit down next to you.
"Hyunjin...I-"
He cuts you off before you can speak "Y/n I'm so sorry, please forgive me, I promise I wasn't trying to be weird, I understand if you think I'm gross but I just wanna apologise, it was wrong and weird and out of order and-"
"HYUNJIN" you shout, shutting him up quickly. "Slow down, take a breath...I'm not mad at you I just wanna know...who exactly have you been sending those messages to" you quirk up a brow. You knew about his crush on you but you never knew he was sending his horny thoughts about you to someone.
"Ummm...felix..." He says shyly. "Felix? You thirst over me to Felix? Hmm" you look away surprised. "Does he do the same? Not about me but does he thirst over anyone to you?" You ask.
A little smile grew on his lips, realizing you're more interested than mad, "yeah" he laughs through his nose "he thirsts over channie-hyung alot".
"Hmm I'm not surprised to be honest...so you wanna talk about what you said hmm?" You said smirking at him. His eyes widen as he turns to face you "talk about it? Like what?" He questions.
"Well maybe talk about what exactly you meant, what you want me to do with them" you give him a teasing grin. His face flushes as he sees you moving closer to him slowly. "Do I have to say it? You read it yourself you know what I want" he looks at you with sparkling eyes.
"I wanna hear it for myself. Tell me what you want darling" you say, your face now nearly touching his, your noses brushing lightly against eachothers. "I...want you to use your hands on me" he breathes, going for the kiss before you pull yourself back, pushing him away a little. "Ah ah ah, not what those messages said. I'll give you what you want if you just use your words and tell me what you really want".
You raise your eyebrows up at him quickly, urging him to say it. He looks at the ground before quietly saying "want you to finger me". You shake your head, hooking a finger under his chin and making him look you in the eyes "louder and more clear" you rasp. He gives you a frustrated look before finally saying it "I want you to finger me please" he begs louder this time. "Good boy" you say as you tap his cheek.
Your lips crash onto his, moving him back until he's laying down. Your hips pressing into his so perfectly as your tongue enters into his mouth. He moans into the kiss as one of your hands move down his body, cupping his length. You begin to lightly squeeze and rub it from outside his shorts as he squirms under you.
You waste no time as you begin to yank off his shorts and underwear leaving him in just his shirt. His cock leaking against his lower abdomen as you spread open his legs. You stick two fingers into his mouth to wet them, swirling them around as he sucks and coats them perfectly. Once you feel they're wet enough you pull them from his mouth a string of saliva connecting your fingers and his lips. You move your hand down and in-between his legs, pressing them against his puckered hole. You rub it gently before slowly sliding on of your long slender fingers into him, it reaches further than he can reach with his own and it feels so fucking good.
You slip in a second finger before you begin to slowly move them in and out of him. Your other hand wrapping around his weeping cock, stroking it at the same pace as your fingers inside him. He moves his hands behind his back to lift his hips up and give himself more leverage to make it easier for you. Your fingers are pumping into him faster now, moving at such a pleasurable pace as your hand on his cock does the same.
You curl your fingers up as the pads of your fingers press against his prostate deliciously as his hips buck up with a loud moan. He looks gorgeous. Such a mess and all because of your fingers. You lean back down whilst your hands are still working rapidly, kissing his deep and full of lust. His head is spinning, the feeling of his hole being used and the warmth around his cock is all too much. He can already feel himself about to cum. He knows it's quick but he just can't help how good he feels.
His eyes roll back as his jaw slacks open, you pull away from him slightly, watching the look on his face as he cums all over his tummy. A strained moan leaving him as his body tenses through it. Once his body relaxes again he's panting and jerking up into your hand as he rides out his orgasm. Your cock twitching in your pants at the sight of it all.
"Care to help me now?"
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chrisixx28 · 1 day ago
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please piss kink fic but with chris x sub reader 😞‼️‼️
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Pathetic - C.S.
Dom!Chris x Reader
Warnings: PISS KINK, daddy kink
Word Count: 1.3k
"Here you go, princess," Chris spoke softly, handing you a bottle of water. It was the third bottle he'd made you drink in the last hour and you were already having a hard time controlling your bladder.
You whined a little, but took the water from him and started drinking it slowly.
"Atta girl," he smirked, watching you drink the water, "you feelin' it yet?" He pressed his hand against your lower stomach.
You pulled the water bottle away from your lips, looking up at him with wide eyes, "a little."
"Good, keep drinkin' for me," he guided the bottle back to your mouth. With a satisfied smile, he sat on your bed with his back against the headboard, pulling you down to straddle his lap. He sat back comfortably and watched with a lazy grin as you continued to drink from the bottle.
Once the bottle was empty, he took it from you and set it on the nightstand, "good job," he praised, "how are you feeling?"
"'M fine," you answered in a soft voice, but the way you squirmed in his lap gave away the truth. You were starting to get desperate and you knew you wouldn't be able to hold it much longer.
Chris could feel himself getting hard at the thought, but he ignored it, focusing on your face and the blush that spread across your cheeks.
"Ya gonna piss yourself?" You both knew that he already knew the answer to that question, but he loved teasing you like that, almost mocking you. He loved the way it embarrassed you, how you whined and blushed, trying to hide your face in his neck. "S'alright, princess," he pulled you away from his neck, holding your face in both hands, "let me see that pretty face."
A whine escaped your lips as you made eye contact with him, the look he gave you made you shiver.
"Gotta hold it a little longer for me, princess," he told you. He picked up his phone and you whined, he was gonna make you sit there longer and not pay attention to you. You leaned forward to lay your head on his chest, trying to relax.
You took deep breaths, trying to stay calm as you grew more and more desperate with the need to pee. Chris kept his attention on his phone, only occasionally rubbing your back when you squirmed around a lot.
At one point, you moved your hand between your legs, but Chris quickly swatted it away, "none of that," he said without looking at you. You whined but obeyed, moving your hand away from yourself.
About half an hour passed and you knew you wouldn't be able to hold it much longer, you gripped onto Chris' shirt and glanced up at him, "daddy," you whined quietly.
"Hm?" he kept his eyes on his phone screen.
"Please, daddy," you whined, tugging on his shirt, "can't hold it anymore."
He finally set his phone down, glancing down at you, "aw, c'mon, princess. You can be a good girl and keep holding it."
"Can't, daddy," you felt tears start to well up in your eyes, "please. Need to."
"Oh, princess," he pouted, his tone dripping with mock sympathy, "look at you, you gonna cry? You really that desperate?" He cupped your cheek, wiping away a tear.
You whined loudly, your voice growing more urgent, "daddyyy. Gonna pee."
"Yeah?" Chris smirked, "gonna piss your pants? Right in my lap? That how pathetic you are?"
"Daddy," you whined pathetically, tears falling down your cheeks as you hid your face in his neck. Seconds later, you could feel yourself lose control, hot piss soaking through your pants and into his.
"Fuck, baby," he rubbed your back soothingly, "s'okay." He kissed the top of your head, practically moaning in pleasure at the feeling of your piss soaking into his pants. "So fuckin' hot, princess," he groaned.
All you could manage to do was cry into his neck, a dark blush spreading across your cheeks, "daddy," you whined softly as you finally stopped.
"I know, baby," Chris cooed. He ran his fingers through your hair a couple times before pulling your head away from his neck, "look at what you did."
You looked down to see your pants and his both soaked in your piss, his dick hard and straining against his pants. You looked up at him with glossy eyes.
"Got me so hard, princess," he grinned at you, "this is all for you." He guided your hand onto his bulge, groaning when you pressed your hand down onto him.
"Can I?" you asked hopefully as you moved your hand up to his waistline.
"Go ahead," he smirked, his voice low, "s'all yours."
You pulled his pants and boxers off at the same time, moving back on the bed to sit on your heels in between his legs. Chris groaned as you wrapped your hand around his hard length, stroking up and down.
"That's it, baby," he praised, "makin' me feel so good."
A moment later, you leaned forward, taking his dick into your mouth and bobbing your head up and down.
"Fuck," he groaned, "s'it good, princess? Can you taste your piss on my dick, baby?"
He put a hand in your hair as you continued to suck on him, looking up at him through your lashes. You could feel his dick start to twitch in your mouth as he got closer and closer to cumming.
"C'mere," he said, his voice low as he pulled your head up. "Still wanna fuck you, baby. Fuck, look at you," he ran his hand up the inside of your thigh, feeling where your pants were still soaked, "let's get you outta these, huh?"
He undressed you quickly and pulled you back onto his lap. His fingers dug into your skin where he held your hips.
"Ride me, princess," he said in a husky voice, "make daddy feel good again."
You lifted yourself up just enough to line yourself up with the head of his dick. Chris groaned as you started to sink down onto his length and he helped guide you the rest of the way down.
"Daddy," you whined as you bottomed out.
"That's it, baby," he smirked, "fuck yourself on my cock."
At his command, you braced yourself with your hands against his chest and started bouncing yourself up and down on his length. His grip on your hips tightened as you leaned forward, letting your head rest on his shoulder. He thrusted his hips up and guided your movements, moaning and cursing under his breath.
"Cum for me, princess," he urged you on, "cum on my dick."
Seconds later, you whined loudly as you reached your climax. The feeling of your pussy squeezing around his dick brought Chris over the edge, he moaned your named and threw his head back as he came deep inside you. You let your body relax against his as you tried to catch your breath.
"So good," Chris groaned breathlessly, "did so good for me, baby. Such a good girl."
He turned his head to kiss your cheek, his hand coming up to play with your hair. The two of you stayed like that for a few more minutes until he picked you up, carrying you toward the bathroom. Once you got there, he set you down on the counter and turned around to turn the shower on. 
"Alright, sweet girl," he smiled softly as he turned back to you, standing in between your legs, "let's get you all cleaned up."
You reached up to wrap your arms around his neck and pull him down into a sweet kiss, "thank you, daddy."
"You're welcome, princess," he grinned, "you were such a good girl for me. You gonna let me take care of you and clean you up now?"
"Mhm," you nodded, smiling, "I love you."
"I love you too," Chris said as he pulled you into another kiss.
57 notes · View notes
jo-harrington · 1 day ago
Text
Stranger Than (Fan)Fiction - Chapter 5: Friends to Lovers
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Previous Chapter: Reader Suggestions
Summary: A bit of chaotic Deja Vu ensues as the Writer finally gets a handle on this story.
Word Count: 6.3k
Pairing: Eddie Munson/Fem!Reader
Warnings/Themes: No-Upside-Down AU, Fluff, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Chaos, Smut, Isekai, Mentions of FOI-compliant events and characters, Various References to Movies and Television, Lore, Criticism of Fanfiction, Analysis of Fanfiction/Fandom, Meta Fiction, Self-Aware Fic
Note: I KNOW THIS IS REALLY LATE (the dedication post not the chapter, I write on my own time and I'm not gonna apologize for that) so please consider this a chapter dedicated to @undead-supernova for her birthday. Love you August. Thanks for being a little gremlin with me sometimes. Hope you enjoy it.
You can find my masterlist here.
Please do not interact if you are not 18+.
Enjoy!
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You really didn't know how you fit into this story.
You were utterly and sincerely baffled.
But you could say that about a lot of the stories you found yourself in; this one felt like it was just to make you suffer, more than anything else.
"What's on your mind Wanderlust?" Sawyer groaned as he collapsed beside you on the sand. He held out a water bottle--still a bit cold, meaning he'd just come back from refilling them at the caves--which you took with a grateful nod. "You're staring into that fire as if it's about to tell you the meaning of life."
"I think that's exactly what I'm hoping it does," you told him honestly before taking a swig.
"Well if you find out," he laid back with his arms folded behind his head. "Be sure to share with the class."
You rolled your eyes at him and then kept up with your pity party.
To add to the list of things you didn't know: Sawyer was also one of them.
He was a shithead of the first degree, dangerous, shifty, rude, selfish, suspicious...and somehow the only person you consistently talked to here on the island.
You'd actually been sitting next to him on Flight 815; he'd been a little salty but nice enough to let you have the arm rests, even asked if you were alright when the turbulence began and you began panicking.
For all the years that you'd been driving around the states, you'd never been on a plane before; you thought it was karma that some Writer would not only put you on the longest flight in existence for your first go, and then a plane crash for your second.
But you appreciated Sawyer's compassion, and the subsequent companionship that he shared with you. The care. The protection. The no-strings-attached, no-questions-asked nature of your relationship.
"You have a boyfriend back home kid?" he asked abruptly.
Spoke too soon.
"Loaded question," you snorted, thinking back to the many loves you'd had throughout this strange life you lived.
"Always the bridesmaid?"
"Something like that." You kicked his leg. "What about you?"
"Married to my work, sweet pea," he grinned, eyes still closed. He must've heard you roll your eyes at him. "I'm sure you're curious about why I'm asking."
"The question crossed my mind, if you'd like to share with the class," you parroted his words.
"Might've heard through the grapevine that someone has a little crush on you."
"Hmmm." You hoped the judgment and distaste was clear.
"Figure it was my duty as your unofficial big brother to scare them away before they started sniffing too close. 'specially if you had someone back home waiting for you."
"Well, no one's waiting," you huffed a breath. "But that doesn't mean I'm interested in a weird beach hookup either."
"I figured. I'll tell 'em to scram."
"Please don't be rude about it."
His eyes popped open and he pressed a hand to his chest.
"Now when have I ever been rude?" You kicked him again. "Alright, I'll be nice."
"Thank you."
There were a few beats of silence, filled with the crackle of the fire and the roar of waves just a few yards away.
"What are you looking for then?" Sawyer's voice broke through. "If it's not sex or love or whatever. What's got you looking so deep into that fire for?"
"I think..." You took a second, because all of those things were nice. But what did you want? What did you really want?
You inhaled deeply and then turned your gaze back to him with the hint of a smile.
"I think I just need a friend."
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October 1985
You know what really sucked for Eddie about this whole fanfiction predicament?
The absolute unpredictability of it.
Just as you'd explained to him, he actually felt like he was playing a constant game of DnD. The only problem--well, one of many problems, actually--was that the Dungeon Master had no plans, didn't know what they were doing, and was making it all up as they went.
Which is why he suddenly found himself back in time once again, practically at the beginning of the school year, after a shitty, hot October day where everything that could've gone wrong did.
"It's almost like this Writer hates my guts or something," he grumbled as he sifted through the disarray in his locker. "Making me repeat my repeat-repeat-senior year over and over again."
He let the irritation fester within him all day until the end of the day so he could complain to you--and you'd hopefully agree to some under-the-shirt-over-the-bra action on his couch as consolation--only to find your trailer dark and your car missing by the time he got home.
"Great, just great," he grumbled and trudged inside.
For the rest of the night, he did what he always did when he was looking for comfort.
Pizza, Television, Recorded Reruns of Port Geneva.
He sat on the floor, worked on his homework, and munched on his large extra-pepperoni for hours, as you and Sam and Bonnie had your misadventures. A little voice in the back of his head urged him to just get up and try calling you whenever he hit the pause button to complain, but he ignored it and instead kept on complaining.
About school, about life, about himself. About never amounting to anything. It was very reminiscent of all the other "talks" he had with you...both the you on the screen and eventually the you in real life.
What he wouldn't give to just have you here right now to talk to, instead of this old habit that he thought he'd outgrown upon your appearance in Hawkins and the beginning of this unending hellscape.
He looked down at himself, at the homework and the pizza, and stopped to ask, "what the fuck am I doing?"
Was he really so pathetic that he couldn't control himself until you could be there? Or Wayne? Or any of his other friends? Had the turning back of the calendar just regressed him into the pathetic person he was before all of this started? Before you set foot into Hawkins?
Eddie got to his feet and hit the eject button on the VCR, fully intending to call it a night, when there was a crash outside.
Crashes in Forest Hills weren't abnormal--someone backing into trash cans, losing traction on the icy roads in the winter, and the one time Mrs. Dawson kicked her husband out and threw all of his things out the window--but it was something he'd just gotten used to.
This crash, however, started a ruckus. Again.
"Weird," he scoffed at the yelling and the dog across the way barking.
But who was he to pass up some good old Midwestern entertainment? Especially after the most lackluster night?
He grabbed his cigarettes from the bowl of junk on the coffee table, slid the box of leftover pizza into the fridge, and stepped outside to get a prime spot on the old couch on the porch to smoke and watch the scene unfold.
He'd just gotten that first drag of his cigarette and really took in the sights when it all made sense.
Or rather, it actually didn't make any sense.
Because he remembered the Mayfields on their porch yelling at the driver and Mrs. Mayfield threatening to call the police. He recognized that powder blue Volkswagen Beetle and the accompanying license plate. He knew, on instinct, exactly when the driver's door opened and the sneakered foot stepped out.
And then there you were. Looking around and begging the Mayfields not to call the cops, making a deal to pay for the damages.
The weirdest thing was that, even though his mind raced to put the pieces together, his heart ached with all of the emotions that he'd been through the first time he'd lived this night when you'd crashed into Hawkins from your adventures across the fictional universe.
But instead of muttering that it was all a dream like he remembered himself saying, he repeated "what the fuck, what the fuck, what the fuck" over again until you glanced over at him with an apologetic gaze that he recognized even from that distance.
All at once, he felt the calm wash over him. That's all he needed from you, one look, and everything began to feel worlds better.
"Jesus H. Christ," he sighed and ran a hand through his hair in relief.
Eddie watched for a few moments longer as you wrapped up your conversation with the Mayfields, and he would've made the attempt to approach you once you wandered back to your car, if he didn't feel the puppet strings of the Writer and their words rest on the tip of his tongue, waiting for him to speak them.
So he played the part, as he had gotten used to doing, and jumped to his feet.
"Hey!" He called out to you. "Uh...I...know my way around cars, I can take a look at it in the morning. I-if you want. Bang out any dents."
"Seriously? Can you?" you scrunched your nose in the way that made his knees shake. The Writer didn't need to make him do that; even after a few months, he was still pathetic for you. "That'd be nice, thanks."
"Yeah no problem," he smiled the friendliest and most welcoming smile he could muster, and then went back inside as your car trudged across the trailer park.
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Your door was unlocked when he ventured to your place in the middle of the night.
The Writer, unfortunately--or maybe thankfully--still gave him as many nerves and as much restlessness as he had the first night you were in Hawkins. Or maybe he was just nervous and restless wondering just what new hell there was in store for the two of you? Still he couldn't sleep, so instead of wait for the morning, he just made his way over to discuss it with you now.
He found you sitting atop your bedroll on the blue plaid sofa in your living room.
"Hey Cigarette Porch guy," you greeted him tiredly, reciting the words you originally greeted him with.
"Cigarette porch guy is my father," he didn't hesitate to recall, the moment the two of you officially met fondly etched into his memory forever. "You can just call me Eddie."
You share a smile and then pat the spot beside you on the couch.
"I'd offer you a drink, but uh...seems like I'm starting over again," you sighed. "Unless I can interest you in some good old Indiana tap water."
He shook his head, then closed the distance and dropped beside you.
"So what are we in for this time?" he asked. "I thought I was just in for another shitty day."
"Well," you paused and held your breath, then you grabbed his hand and squeezed. "I woke up in a motel room I didn't recognize and then felt the urge to get in my car and just drive. I felt...excited to go to a new place; I think I even said it out loud. 'I'm so excited.' But inside I was worried that I'd moved onto another world and left you behind."
It was like a pit opened in his stomach; he'd considered it before, your eventual departure. He'd come to believe that you would move onto your next life after some event--a death, a breakup, maybe some happily ever after after 50 years together, if he was lucky. But to lose you without any kind of warning?
"Shit," he pulled you into his arms and pressed a kiss to the top of your head. For your comfort and his own. "I'm sorry sweetheart."
"It's ok," came the weak chuckle as you leaned into his embrace and nuzzled your nose into his t-shirt. "It's ok, we're just...starting over. The Writer is starting the story over; starting over is good sometimes. Maybe they figured out what they were going to do with us, instead of just play with us like little dolls in a dollhouse."
"Well, I'm an expert in starting over so..." he cracked a joke. "I was just thinking that earlier today, actually."
"Oh yeah?"
"Well, if it's October again, it means I'm doing senior year for the...what is it...third-and-a-half time?"
You snorted and weakly slapped a hand to his chest, "well how dare they make you experience that fresh hell one more time."
"I guess if we're starting over, that means you can help me figure out how to pass my Civics quiz again," he recalled your first date. Study date.
You shot out of his embrace and grabbed his face in your hands, smushing his cheeks as you grinned, the somber tone in the living room finally dissipating.
"But that's the best part of rewrites," you explained. "You get to live all the best memories with people over again."
You told him about rewrites that you'd been through; stories that generally didn't change and some that changed drastically. He liked hearing the fondness of your voice when you talked about getting to meet so-and-so for the first time again, holding someone's hand, first dates.
"First kisses?" he asked through his still-smooshed lips.
"That's one of the best parts of rewrites," you winked and pecked a kiss against his mouth. Then again and again, until the two of you were smooching all over each other comically like Gomez and Morticia, giggling all the while.
And when it was time to say goodbye, both of you ready to say "hello" for the second first time.
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"Hey," you greeted, somewhat out of breath when Eddie opened the door. It was a familiar sight: backpack slung over your shoulder, 6-pack of sodas dangling from your fingers, looking as gorgeous as you always did or at least he thought so. "Sorry if I'm late."
"No," he shook his head quickly and shifted to the side to let you pass into the trailer. "Right on time sweetheart. Hope you like pepperoni."
Of course you did. It was your favorite.
"It's my favorite."
He still felt the strong sense of triumph from knowing what your favorites were, even though the nerves of being around you for the first time had dissipated.
There was another kind of excitement now as you bit your lip and winked at him stealthily and made your way inside to get settled in the living room. Of course you knew he knew that pepperoni was your favorite. What the Writer didn't know was that pepperoni wasn't your only favorite, and they didn't know that he'd gotten half-pep, half-mushroom to surprise you.
How would they? He hadn't felt them as he'd called Pizzeria Uno, just those lurking strings leading him to the door once the pizza arrived.
The past few days had gone like this, where the Writer would control some aspect of your lives, and the two of you would test what the boundaries of this fanfiction were. It was a trick of yours, to feel some semblance of control in an uncontrollable situation, especially as things became out of character or too drawn out.
When the Writer seemed to be writing too much exposition about one thing or another, the two of you sat frozen in time. No talking, no movement as the world around you seemed to shift and morph at the will of your would-be-deity.
You'd silently challenged him to a staring contest over breakfast at Benny's as a water stain in the corner of the ceiling got bigger and dingier and became more of an eyesore.
Had Eddie really never noticed it or was the Writer just obsessed with it?
It was happening right now as his attention was drawn to the enticing softness of the sweater you had on...each piece of yarn knitted and woven together with such care, his hand twitched as though he wanted to reach out and...
"So..." you cleared your throat. "Homework?"
"Yeah," he agreed, shaking himself out of his story-induced stupor. "Lemme put those pops in the fridge so they get cold first. Dr. Pep--Mr. Pibb?" He scoffed at the unexpected label, a laugh dead in his throat.
"Wh...do you...I thought you liked Dr. Pepper," he questioned.
"Why would you think that?"
"Be...because you got Dr. Pepper at Benny's!"
"If I don't have a choice, yeah Dr. Pepper is fine. But Mr. Pibb is my favorite," you laughed and shook your head in amused disbelief. "There's nothing like a slice of pepperoni and an ice cold Mr. Pibb."
Eddie was sure that there were no strings pulling him this way or that, and based on your body language, it didn't seem like the Writer was doing anything to you either. He racked his brain for a moment, trying to come up with any little tidbit that could prove some outside interference.
But then he realized...had The Writer noticed something about you that he hadn't?
Had he, Eddie Munson, number one fan of Port Geneva's--and you--not noticed that your favorite soda was Mr. Pibb?
Then a thought that didn’t really seem to be his echoed in his head.
What if he actually didn’t know anything about you?
No.
That was impossible.
He refused to believe it. It had to be the Writer who was manipulating things. Right?
He looked at the Mr. Pibb for a moment, then back up at you.
"So, uh," he hesitantly backed out of the living room to head to the kitchen. "Anything else shocking and unbelievable that I need to know about you? If we're gonna be neighbors...or friends...or whatever."
"Or whatever," you giggled, scrunching your nose, then pulled his notebook off the coffee table to distract yourself as you continued nervously. "Uh, ok let's see...I don't think there's anything too shocking and unbelievable that I hadn't told you at breakfast the other day. I'm from Port Geneva, I've been driving around for a while, I like to draw."
You flipped through a few pages in his notebook and then paused and pointed to the doodles in the margins of the page.
"And by the looks of this, so do you," you grinned. "These are cool."
"Cool?" he scoffed. "That...I was supposed to take notes for class and I ended up doodling for Hellfire Club the whole time. Ahem...Hellfire Club...my Dungeons and Dragons club at school."
"Oh yeah?"
"Planning a one-shot for my buddy Jeff's birthday in a world where Theodred doesn't die and goes on to become...well...it's just nerd stuff. You're not interested in any of that. Besides, we're supposed to be talking about you."
"Actually," you looked at him expectantly, "we're supposed to talk about your history quiz. But while we're on the topic of me, and history, and these nerd things in your notebook, I guess one shocking and unbelievable thing about me is that I'm actually a nerd too. I happen to like Tolkien."
It was his turn to shoot you a mocking "oh yeah?"
You rolled your eyes at him and then put his notebook down on the table, then held out your hand as though you desired a handshake. As soon as his palm touched yours, you introduced yourself.
"I actually like Tolkien. My mom got me a copy of the Silmarillion for my sixteenth birthday and if I could go anywhere in any universe, I'd like to see Middle Earth from the tippy top of Erebor. And I used to say that I'd settle for the grand canyon, but I've already been there. So I will accept nothing less than Erebor itself. Now you."
You continued to shake his hand as he spoke.
"I'm Eddie Munson. The first time I read the Hobbit, my dad had dropped me off at the library and someone had misplaced it in the Kids section. And I've tried to get my band to play a rendition of Misty Mountains before, but we can't agree on whether or not there should be a harp in it. If we could even find a harp in Indiana like Thorin's."
There was a sparkle in your eye as you began to say "actually I have a funny story about Thorin and his harp," when you froze.
Eddie watched you and got increasingly worried as you fought some kind of internal battle just behind your eyes. He could see the little changes in your expression, from joyful to nervous to angry, and he reached out to rest his hand on yours and let you know that he was right there.
That it would be alright.
"Why don't," you finally spat out forcefully, slightly out of breath, "why don't we try this? We study a little bit at a time, and as we go, we share a new fact about each other? That way by the end of the night, you'll be ready for the quiz, and we'll be good...friends?"
There was something biting about the word friends, almost like you didn't want to say it.
Honestly, it stung him a little to hear it.
Friends.
Weren't you two supposed to fall in love? Hadn't that been what this fanfiction was in the first place? That this Writer shipped you two together? And shit, even though he knew that he could kiss you once the Writer relinquished control, he was kind of looking forward to having this first date all over again, just like you'd discussed.
But now everything was turning out differently.
Not bad, just different.
It was your turn to turn your hand in his and squeeze, then you asked "how does that sound Eddie? Friends?"
His eyes darted between yours, and he felt the pressure build, the pressure to agree and say yes, as thoughts that the Writer put into his head flew through him at light speed.
"Yeah," he finally spoke. "Friends sounds good."
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And friends it was...until it wasn't anymore.
You and Eddie seemed to do all of the things that you did before. Study sessions and Saturdays spent together watching movies and putzing around town until it was time for you to go to work.
Only instead of holding hands and smooching and all of the things that really punctuated the romance in a relationship...there were just awkward, forlorn glances and tingles along your skin when your fingers happened to touch.
God damn, he hadn't had this kind of crush since he was in middle school. The last serious crush he had besides that...was on you.
And it was weird to physically feel all of the effects of a crush on you, thanks to the Writer, while mentally being frustrated knowing that dates and kisses and everything were just around the corner. If only the two of you would be allowed to get over that hurdle.
"It's called a slow burn," you laughed one night when he complained to you on the phone, away from the watchful eye of the Writer. You seemed to be taking the glass-half-full approach, where Eddie just missed you so goddamn much. "And I guess the Writer is really letting us simmer."
"I'm gonna melt if they don't let us be together soon." Eddie complained, semi-seriously, basking in your laughter. "Call me Eddie Mun-stew."
"They've got us in a crock pot," you entertained his joke.
"8 chapters on low," he grinned. "Like Uncle Wayne's famous chili. I just want to kiss you, is that such a crime?"
"Apparently it is."
"What if I've forgotten how to kiss?"
"I sincerely doubt that you have. I'm more worried that the Writer will make it a bad first kiss."
"Like if we bonk heads and I break your nose or something?"
"Oh god, let's not give them any ideas," you groaned. "Look, whenever they decide it'll happen, it will. And it's gonna be great."
"Maybe they won't let me make you think I'm a virgin this time."
"You have to admit, that was hilarious."
"It was not!"
Your only response, which caused him to hang up on you, was to cackle loudly into the receiver.
But the Writer must've sensed the antsy energy between the two of you because it happened.
A first kiss. A second first kiss.
You were actually at the movies this time, instead of on Eddie's couch.
The Writer had given Eddie an incredibly long sequence where he and his pals from Hellfire practiced all of the moves he could have finally made on you now to let you know he might be interested.
First, there was the raising of the armrest between the two of you--exaggeratedly performed by Jeff, who played Eddie, and Eddie, who played you.
Next, there was the meeting of the fingers in the popcorn bucket. Gareth was able to do an uncanny impression of Eddie's "don't take all the milk duds" and the awkward laugh he made as the blush dusted his cheeks.
Then there was the old yawn and stretch, which wasn't awkward at all to have Dave do to him.
"Have you ever done this to someone before?" Eddie snarked, as Dave practically squeezed him against his side. It had been more of a grab than a casual drape of his arm around Eddie's back.
Needless to say, his own execution of the move was a lot smoother.
"And then you just kiss her," his friends said in tandem.
"Gee thanks," Eddie scoffed at them, "I know how to kiss a girl, you shitheads."
Except when it came down to it, he was nervous. Hadn't you told him that the best part of rewrites was having those firsts again? What if it was terrible? What if he actually did break your nose?
"Eddie, are you shaking?" you leaned away from him and looked at him worriedly. "What's wrong?"
Shit, had he been shaking?
"This movie is just," he cleared his throat and glanced up at the screen; thank god he chose something spooky for Halloween. "Really scary."
"Oh...kay," you narrowed your eyes in suspicion, but sat back in your seat.
Then you leaned into him a little more.
And glanced up at him from beneath your lashes.
And he couldn't help but lean a little closer, and duck his head, until his breath was fanning against your cheeks.
Until you inched closer and closer.
And your lips brushed.
Damn, this Writer must've been a hopeless romantic because the kiss was everything they said a first kiss should be. Sunshine and rainbows and birds singing and rockets red glare fireworks at the soft press of your lips on his.
It was here that Eddie realized how much he'd missed kissing you, like...really missed kissing you. You'd taken the task of this rewrite a little too seriously, worried that in some way it might inspire the Writer...or possibly even mess with their inspiration.
The two of you were here now, though, and finally all of that waiting had paid off.
So of course you took advantage of it.
Actually, you were a little more eager than Eddie even was, because your hands were on him immediately. One hand found his waist and the other on his jaw, thumb softly caressing his stubbly skin as your lips pressed together. He liked the firmness of your lips, he liked the way you'd waited for him to make the move before taking what you both eagerly wanted.
Writer be damned.
Eddie pulled you closer, using the arm hooked around your shoulders as leverage, and then tried to use the other hand to hike one of your legs over his--you couldn't be close enough--but the damned popcorn bucket got in the way.
He pulled his lips away from yours for a moment to glance down at the obstacle, basking in the little whine you made at the loss of contact.
In fact, you both looked down at the popcorn, and then at the screen, then at each other.
And you both must've decided that "fuck it" was the correct response, because soon the popcorn bucket was on the floor and you were giggling into each other's mouths as you melded back into one writing mass of limbs and kisses and caresses.
It was a joy to be reunited like this; there were some moments that Eddie was eager to move his hand this way or that way, but he felt the strings of the Writer pull him some other way. His own signature moves foregone in favor of something that they thought would be better. Fingers inched under clothing and into hair, lips chased down the column of a neck, and a leg was hitched over a hip until you were practically grinding on each other for all the world to see.
Suddenly a light was shined on you and you both froze, then jumped apart in shock. Your shoulders heaved and you turned towards the source of the light.
"Hey!" An usher shouted from the end of the row, getting the attention of the whole theater as they turned in their seats to stare at the two of you with your kiss-bruised lips and disheveled clothes. "Knock it off."
"Sorry," you apologized in tandem and shrunk back into your seats.
In fact, the usher waited until the armrest was securely back in place between the two of you before he left.
Once he was gone, though, you snickered and slyly lifted the armrest so you could cuddle back together.
"It's good to be back," Eddie whispered and pressed a kiss to the side of your head.
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"Ok," you took a breath in and stared at the bed. "So...how do we start?"
Eddie looked at you incredulously and then scoffed.
"You're asking me?" He chuckled and ran a hand into his hair.
"Yeah, I'm asking you," you nodded sincerely and then you gestured up towards the ceiling. "Because clearly they don't know."
You'd been making out on the couch when you'd both decided to take it to the bedroom. But when you got there, things seemed to fizzle out, and now you were just waiting for the Writer's next move.
Actually, the two of you had been waiting for that to happen for a little while. Not that either of you could complain. All of the little scenes that had been written developed your relationship into something worth a story being told about it--dates and cuddling and kissing.
Better than some of the bullshit that the Writer had previously pulled. No bouts of interference or jealousy from Steve Harrington or Chrissy Cunningham. It seemed like a normal relationship, and everything the two of you wanted.
There was still the underlying disbelief and mystery that surrounded you, Eddie's favorite character from Port Geneva, actually being in Hawkins, but in reality the two of you knew that whatever the Writer had planned would truly be a drop in the water when it came to what was actually happening to you.
You'd take this love story while you could get it.
However, the one hurdle that you couldn't seem to get over...was sex.
Well, the two of you could certainly get over it.
It was the Writer that couldn't.
And the cockblocking was getting old.
Making out on the couch, Wayne walked in unexpectedly and ruined the mood. Someone knocked on the back of the van when the two of you were getting hot and heavy parked up at the quarry.
Shit, even phone sex was ruined.
The Writer seemed to be attuned to the two of you now and anytime there was any hint of an arousal to be had, they would be there to effectively crush it.
"Maybe they're just a bad writer?" Eddie shouted upwards, throwing two middle fingers into the air, as though The Writer would know.
"Alright, let's not get too heated," you chuckled and grabbed his arms to pull them back down. "It's probably not as easy as we think it is."
"The dick goes in," Eddie pouted. You stared at him with some sense of disbelief. He was quick to recover it with "and other things happen. I know how to warm a girl up. They should just let us get to it, then it would be easy to put it on paper."
There was a spark of inspiration in your eye at that.
"Alright then, Mister know-it-all," you challenged him, "maybe we should put that logic to the test."
"W-what do you mean?" he questioned. "How?"
"Well, what would you do? How would we start?" you asked in return. "Actually...you admitted to writing a few little stories; have you ever written a sex scene about me?"
Eddie felt the heat build up in his cheeks and you grinned wickedly.
"Oh my god, you have."
"Shut up, ok?" He inhaled deeply, held, and then exhaled his response. "Ok yes but it was once and can you blame me?"
You cackled and did a little shimmy.
"You're smart and funny and gorgeous and I'm in love with you," he explained and then caught himself in shock. "Er, I mean, I..."
He fumbled over his words but your gaze got soft, and you leaned in to press your mouth to his.
It was all the reassurance he needed.
Then he got lost in you. Your lips, your taste, the feel of your hands on him, the feel of you beneath his hands. It was a sensory overload but it was a welcome one. To be surrounded by all of you? He couldn't have written it as well as it was to simply experience it.
That's how he felt about everything he'd experienced with you so far, though. Why should this be any different?
You tugged on his clothes and he tugged on yours. You fumbled to get onto the bed, chasing each other as you scrambled up towards the pillows; you refused to let each other's mouths stray too far though.
"You know," Eddie panted as he pulled away from you to pull his t-shirt over his head. "Maybe the Writer was onto something, though; I really like kissing you."
"Uh huh," you scoffed, your own shirt gone, and you fumbled with the buttons of your jeans. "Do you wanna stop then?"
"Fuck no," he responded and ducked his head to your bare stomach.
His fingers fought with yours on your waistband as he kissed up the softness of your belly, then the dip between your breasts, then up to your neck.
"You know I'm really good at giving hickeys," he muttered into the corner of your jaw. The words tumbled out of his mouth, almost like they weren't his. It took him to realize that they weren't actually his. They were The Writer's. Maybe this was working after all. "Like, really good."
"Put your money where your mouth is Munson," came your reply as your hand slipped into his waistband.
And it was such a strange sensation, maybe just for Eddie, maybe the both of you, when your hand wrapped around his cock and squeezed and he sucked on your pulse like his life depended on it.
Pleasure definitely, and maybe pain; a little mortification and a lot of confusion.
The crescendo of moans from the two of you that your brains said sounded like music but all your ears heard was utter filth. The difference between what the Writer demanded--what they wrote--and what the two of you experience.
And then you released each other, and looked into one another's eyes, and you couldn't help but laugh.
"What is this?" Eddie chuckled into your neck. "What are we doing?"
"I don't know," you mirrored him. Your free hand reached up and caressed his face, fingers brushing into his bangs. "But I wouldn't do this with anyone but you."
The rest of your clothes were shed, then, and more kisses were shared. You explored each other's bodies with hands and eyes and tongues. He liked the sounds you made when he licked his way down your body and finally got to taste you when he reached your core.
He vaguely wondered what it was the Writer was describing as he found the spots that made you moan and scream and shatter. Was it the heady taste of you? Or the weight of your thigh hiked over his shoulder? The feeling of your fingers in his hair? And then when things were reversed, when he sunk into you? What did you feel? Did you feel the weight of him on your body, the sweet affirmations he whispered into you, or the way your thighs pulled him closer? The need to have him in you and around you?
Did they write about the slow build of pleasure between you? The chase of it as he bucked into you and you pulled him deeper? Did they know the exact moment that your hands reached down to press into the spot where you connected?
What was it that a Writer experienced when the characters they wrote about shared those intimate moments together? Did they feel their own sense of lust at the thought of bodies melding into one another? Did they feel a sense of shame or intrusion?
Or maybe they felt left out? That this love, this experience, would never really happen to them? Maybe it was just some facsimile with their own partner? Or could this only ever experienced secondhand through words written on a page, never to truly be had on their own?
Eddie paused and looked down at you--at the scrunch of your eyes as you touched yourself, as you touched him, and moaned his name--and he did his best to banish the Writer from his mind.
From this room.
Because this truly was something that should only belong to you and Eddie.
Before everything faded to darkness, before whatever "scene" came to a close, you reached your peaks together.
Because strings or no strings, whether the writer existed or not, whether this was real or fanfiction, it was just the two of you.
You and Eddie.
Together.
"I love you."
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Next Chapter: Lemon Coming Soon
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