#Wanted to animate Home's eyes moving but that's a thing for another day!

[xraytheredx]

Welcome to the neighborhood~! 🏡✨

I couldn't stop myself from drawing up just the neighbors; I sprinted the whole nine yards for over a month! XD It was worth it though; I even pixelated plant life for the first time, and they came out pretty well! >u<

Would like to give a bit of thanks to @carnivalcarrion for pointing out some hidden details that I wouldn't have thought to look for, especially in the bodega! (Check out their rant about it, and all their awesome art while you're at it! https://www.tumblr.com/carnivalcarrion/727782616285249536/x)

[norrisjpg]

novacane - ʟɴ⁴

in which, lando is completely and utterly obsessed with his girlfriend, and can't seem to keep his hands off of her - especially when she's in that dress.

contains: NSFW; smut, oral (f recieving), fingering, body worship, p in v, unprotected sex, squirting, cockwarming; tiny bit of fluff at the end.

lando norris x unnamed female character

...

...

lando thought he was actually going to die. there in rome, he was sure of it. they had been together for two years at this point, and don't get him wrong, she always looked good - but something about the air in rome was making him fall in love with her all over again, and he was going feral.

the couple had decided to spend a few days in italy together, first venice, second maranello, and last rome.

venice had been brilliant, spending a few days with max and pietra, exploring the city together, and many other late night activities. maranello had been nothing if not wholesome, that being where his beloved girlfriend's family lived - lando having rekindled his bromance with her dad and older brother, and not to mention seeing his favourite dog again.

"can you help me with my heels, baby?" her voice snapped him out of his trance.

fucking hell.

she had walked out of the bathroom, looking like a divine treat for him to devour. it was a sundress - her sundresses always did unholy things to him - of course, and her tanned skin looked particularly endearing against the flimsy white material.

his mouth hung agape, eyes flitting over her body rapidly. his mouth could have (and almost did) water at the sight of his girlfriend, looking oh-so-innocent with her pretty eyes and glossy lips.

again, lando thought he was actually going to die.

"yeah, come here." lando gestured with his fingers, getting up so she could perch on the edge of the bed.

he got to his knees before her, grabbing her ankle gently and delicately tightened the clasp until it clung to her skin snugly, repeating the same action on her other ankle.

"thankyou, sweetheart." she responded, running her fingers through his hair briefly.

yep, he was definitely going to die.

...

if he thought he was going to die earlier, he was dead now.

she was sat there, fiddling with the necklace he'd bought her a few months ago, blinking at him through her lashes as she spoke about their plans for the rest of the summer break.

he could have actually fall to his knees in the restaurant right there and then - she looked utterly and completely irresistible.

"can we go now, please?" lando pleaded for around the third time.

he had asked her after they had finished his main course, and then after they'd finished their desserts, and now when they were having another drink.

"god, what's gotten into you?" she laughed as she swallowed the remainder of her wine.

"nothing, i just want to go home." he shrugged, trying not to let her onto the fact he was planning every single thing he was going to do to her once that hotel room door was closed.

"okay, weirdo." she shook her head with another laugh, before politely asking for the bill.

technically, it was her turn to pay for dinner - but lando never let her pay anyway. his credit card was being swiped across the card machine before she could even get hers out of her purse.

"let's go, come on."

...

as soon as that hotel door had latched shut behind her, lando turned into some sort of rabid animal with no self control.

she found herself pinned up against the door very quickly, dress bunched up at her hips as he began his assault on her neck.

���god… needed you since i seen you earlier.” lando murmured, hoisting her legs up around his waist.

“yeah?” she nodded, arching her eyebrows as her eyes fluttered shut.

“mhm.” he hummed, his hand shifting to her lower back as she was then moved to her feet. “look so pretty — turn around for me?”

she spun her heel slowly, allowing lando to effortlessly pull on the delicate white bow, the thin straps loosening and falling below her shoulders. his hand trailed back down her arms, pulling the dress down and allowing it to fall to a puddle at their feet.

“so gorgeous.” he whispered, hot breath fanning the back of her shoulder — before his hands whipped her around to face him again.

"you think?" she responded quietly.

"of course, pretty girl." he pressed a kiss to the side of her neck, before spinning her round and walking her backwards to the bed - eye contact very, very intense.

a gentle shove rendered her flat on the bed, propped up on her elbows shortly after her back hit the soft mattress. just as he'd done earlier, lando dropped to his knees and now started to remove her heels.

god, she looked divine.

she was now only wearing the prettiest white lace underwear, but lando was trying not to focus on it - due to the fact that he was painfully hard, and that if he looked at her, all of his self-control would fly out of the hotel door (not that she would have minded that.)

a quick toss of the heels behind him made soft thuds in the room, but lando was already softly kissing up from her ankle to her inner thighs, rendering her unable to think about anything else.

"god..." she breathed out, tossing her head back as he skimmed his nose over the delicate fabric of her panties.

a soft chuckle reverberated through her from lando, he was literally laughing into her pussy - how hot could this man get?

"someone's needy." he whispered, lips brushing against the lace once again, resulting in her clenching around nothing.

"shut up." she whined. "just do something, please?"

"as you wish, baby." he mumbled, tugging her underwear down effortlessly and discarding them across the room.

he was like a man starved, denied of watching his girlfriend squirm underneath him for a mere few hours - that seemed to feel like years.

not that she needed any sort of lube, she was soaking wet by the time lando's thumb circled over her clit agonising slowly, but lando felt it necessary still to let a string of his saliva drip down on her aching cunt, spreading it adequately around with his tongue.

she was just about to beg, but he latched his lips onto her before the pleads could leave her lips. the noises made between his lips and hers were disgustingly hot, his fingers slowly beginning to prod at her entrance, teasing her tightness. his tongue drew shapes on her clit, he was spelling his fucking name, and she was seeing stars when a thick middle finger slid into her.

over and over again the same shapes danced over her heat, and lando slowly began to curl his finger to push against her g-spot. an almost pornographic moan left her lips as she felt the pressure of his index finger alongside his middle finger inside of her - whines and whimpers now a constant sound in the room.

they weren't just from her either, when her hips pushed into his face, lando wasn't ashamed to let a low groan out, the vibrations making her back arch up off of the bed - only for her to quickly be pushed back down by a veiny hand.

"fuck.. lando..." she moaned airly, a hand clutching onto his hair for dear life.

the soft bite to her clit was what sent her over the edge and into space. her legs shook around his head, the most lewd moans tumbling loudly from her lips. he pumped his fingers in and out of her and kitten-licked her through her orgasm, allowing her to float on her cloud of ecstasy for a little longer as she spasmed around him.

"you with me, pretty?" he softly spoke, now having moved his hands from her heat to her ribs, gently rubbing his thumbs up and down.

"yeah." she panted, nodding her head. "so fucking good."

he laughed airily, pressing soft kisses from her lower stomach up to her pillowy lips - swollen from how much she'd bitten down on them over the past few minutes.

their kiss was soft and gentle, she could taste herself on his lips, making her grow all-the-more wet again.

"take this off." she murmured into his lips, making a small noise resembling both a laugh and a whimper leave his lips as she tugged at his shirt.

he began to unbutton his shirt, while her hands frantically made their way down to his dress pants, unbuckling his belt and unzipping his trousers. both items of clothing were quickly a puddle on the floor, his boxers swiftly following.

lando's necklace dangled down and rested just below her chin, then sitting comfortably on the centre of her neck as he kissed her again - teeth clashing and tongues pushing against each other for dominance (lando won, obviously.)

the hand that wasn't holding his body up above her, made its way down to his erection, running it up and down her slit to lube it.

breaking the kiss, the look in his eyes asked her the inevitable, and a quick nod followed.

the tip of his cock pressed into her, still stretching her out. you would have thought that after almost three years of very frequent sex, both would get used to the other - but no, every time they felt each other, it was like the first time all over again.

she quite literally fluttered around him, eyes squeezing shut as he bottomed out a few moments later. a low groan escaped his lips, cut short when he realised her eyes were closed.

"hey, eyes open, baby." he whispered, tapping her cheek gently. "want to see the look in your eyes when you fall apart, yeah?"

pretty eyes met his once again as she blinked up at him, some form of a moan leaving her lips as he spoke to her - how could such dirty words come from a man who looked like a fucking angel?

"good girl." he nodded, pressing a small kiss to her nose as he began to slowly thrust in and out.

now, usually, rough sex was lando's thing - but there was something about the way she looked up at him, it made him want to fuck her nice and gentle, slow and deep - so he did.

his strokes were fucking delicious, taming the fire in her lower belly in just the right way - a way that was building the indescribably incredible knot thick and slow. something was different, it was overwhelmingly good - the softest yet neediest moans tumbling from her lips at an almost alarming rate.

maybe every other deep thrust, she'd clench around him, even more blood rushing to his throbbing cock - he wasn't really sure if it was her that was pulsing around him or it was himself, but either way, it felt fucking good.

his lips made their way to her boobs subconsciously, feeling as if he'd neglected them. swirling his tongue around one hard nipple, he slid two fingers inside of her mouth to wet his fingers - before returning them to the nub his mouth wasn't paying delicate attention to, pinching and pressing the pads of his fingers to them.

sensitive from her previous high, the next one was encroaching quickly, warmth spreading to her inner thighs and lower tummy. he could immediately tell she was close. there were tell-tale signs - loud moans would turn to quiet, short, sharp whimpers, she'd become grabby with her hands - needing something to clutch onto as she fell into the abyss of ecstasy - simultaneously clenching around him so tightly that sometimes she'd accidentally restrict his movement - and all were currently taking place.

"go on, pretty girl, cum for me."

she was so gone.

lando's back suffered as her nails scratched into it, leaving red lines painted across the muscles - his trainers wouldn't ask any questions, it's not as if they hadn't seen worse marks before anyway.

she tried so so hard to keep her eyes open, but it was just too hard. her eyes fluttered closed as her mouth hung agape, eyebrows arched as her nose scrunched up a little - lando wanted the image etched onto his retinas.

she gushed all over him, pretty liquid squirting from her cunt, painting his abdomen shiny as the juices splattered on him.

she thought she was going to die, and she would happily like this.

that was actually all it took for him. hot ropes of cum spilled deep into her, stuffed up against her cervix as he tried his hardest to keep thrusting into her - his hips stuttering as he started to get a little overstimulated.

slowly but surely, the two came down from their mind-blowing highs, lando rolling them over so she was laid on top of him, her walls still unconsciously clenching and fluttering around him.

"you good, baby?" he whispered, his hands rubbing up and down her back.

"think so, tired now." she smiled wearily, pressing a soft kiss to his lips, before letting her head roll down into the crook of his neck.

"want to sleep or clean up?" lando asked softly, running his fingers through her hair.

"sleep, definitely."

[soarrenbluejay]

Since I’ve been encouraged to actually share my funny little blorbo ideas here’s another one gang;

Danny moves to Gotham on scholarship for engineering, because the Fentons may be infamous but they’re also insanely brilliant and besides both he and Jazz are showing every sign of embarrassed child of a super genius syndrome, so while the bats are keeping a close eye on him Just In Case, duke is also thinking of introducing him to the Our Parents Are Maniacs But Anyway club maybe after the first month or so.

Gotham does not go for standard dorm living bc of his ‘condition’ and lack of wanting to constantly spook/gaslight a roommate. Besides, living with two small children is a dorm sounds like a disaster in action.

So Danny signs up as a mechanic in Crime Alley, buys himself a teeny weensy lil apartment and Makes It Work. He has been all year after showing up with a de aged Dani and Dan in Amnity after all, and that had gone,,, fine? (The entire town, observing how Danny had been getting increasingly more uncomfortable around his godfather prior to the cloning incident, then just dropped off the face of the earth for several months, the first two weeks stuck in Vlad’s basement enduring horrors and the next Too Many desperately fapping around in the Ghost Zone to get everything handled. All the clones live, all 13 of them. Bunch of them are stuck in the Ghost Zone due to constant need for ectoplasm, but eh, plenty of Zone born never leave, so. One, in the future, apprentices under a green warrior lady on Pandora’s suggestion, another is working in the Eternal Library with Ghost Writer, etc etc. so Danny eventually came back to Amnity with one small child under each arm very obviously traumatized by Somethingn with vlad and doesn’t like being alone with him,,, or touched without warning,, and immediately and passionately proclaims the kids his but struggles to explain how or why,, look some very reasonable assumptions are drawn okay. So the town does the very reasonable thing and does the midwestern equivilant of excommunicating Vlad, except it’s a lot more run him out with pitchforks vibes since he’s the Mayor. Anyway)

He is immediately loved, because while non Gothamites are usually more of a pain than they’re worth, everyone in a while someone even from out of town will just fit in so nicely it’s uncanny for everyone involved. Addams family vibes, it’s referred to as ‘making it home’, just personal hc. He is protective of all the kids playing in the parks and street girls that can totally take care of themselves on their corners but find it HILARIOUS when he just tackles a dick like a wild animal full force no warning. He can fix anything it seems, but refuses to work with weapons. Reasonable enough, people get twitchy about gangs sometimes. Danny mentions being not against Hood or anything, but he’s not going to work for him, littles to take care of and all, but had past experience with ‘Dora and that inheritance mess with her brother he was being a real prick about’ so everyone assumes it’s the equivilant of him having Done His Time and being plenty good for a life time and respects it as long as none of that petty midwestern small town hotshots bring any of that shit over here. And they don’t, because said individuals are on the other side of the mortal veil, so happy day.

See I really love deaged!Dan because he’s just a grumpy lil guy. But he’s also killed millions. He’s so protective of his loved ones, but held back by blending in and also being Smol that it comes off more bitey kitten than anything else. Dani, of course, is a terror, so she fits right in with the crowd.

And sorry gang, but a bunch of kids on their own in Gotham in a poor side of the city just isn’t going to get any attention: that’s just business as usual really. What first gets attention on Danny is not his ‘condition’ or being mistaken for a meta (which he legally probs has an argument for even without the gene bc like these bitches don’t know how metaism works anyway so) or alien (I’m 90% sure he’d be covered by the alien protection act by virtue of being half ‘not from earth’), but because Danny despite best efforts is a Weird Guy.

He grew up in what could only be described as a low level villain level and spent most of high school dealing with smack downs and spiritual invasion. He’s never really processed that any of that is not in fact Normal. Also, he’s capable of making Anything if given the insides of a toaster, blender and alarm clock, and could probably rewrite the circuits of the apartment blindfolded and improve them 1000% even if it ABSOLUTELY would not be up to code.

And sure, things slip every once in a while, bits of spectral ice here, small floating incident there, but everyone just Minds Their Buisness ya know? You really gunna mess with the guy that personally ensured that when your car got flattened by a fight with Killer Croc, you were still able to get in to work the next day by some wizardry? Really?

But Gotham is a city so cursed it’s probably in the exponents countwise, so of course there is a) a flourishing community of magic users and assorted supernatural weirdos and b) a whole lot of shit for Mega Overpowered Ghost King Danny to idly pick at day to day in order to help with his protecting other Obsession. Gotham has plenty of heroes, but by god do they need the spiritual equivilant of an electrician/priest.

Still, Danny, as a baby ancient under a facet of Kronos and KING OF THE DEAD is like, way, way out of their scope to be able to grok, so it mostly just comes off as you know, a family of banshees or something. When asked, Danny very haltingly says he was briefly dead but then revived, which neatly explains his Weird Ass aura and makes it SPECTACULARLY AWKWARD to ask further about. So everyone nods politely, and goes back to their lives after double checking no nefarious bullshit was being pulled.

Then, of course, Vlad finally tracks them down. The whole neighborhood is altered in short order because he doesn’t bother trying to hide being a Rich Bitch or how he’s sneering down his nose at people on the sidewalk. Every connects the dots when Danny paniks. Dani and Dan’s daycare are staffed with some extra, very buff set of hands within the hour. Jerry, Hood’s third in command, personally shows up to the garage Danny is working at to talk things out with him bc he knows he does t like the deal with this stuff due to past unspecified circumstances but well, they guys had already started fucking with him, you see. Stole his tires, spray painted the windows, pickpocketed him blind, and when he retreated tipped off the police to the drugs they’d planted in the glove box.

Danny might not have been born in Gotham, but he was one of them. And the Alley takes care of it own.

[brunchable]

How's retirement, Bucky? | Bucky Barnes x f!reader.

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x f!reader

Themes: Funny. Bucky trying to find things to do to kill time, while also being a menace to Y/N and the neighbours. Prequel to 'Ouch, My face.'

Summary: Bucky decides to retire and leave the super hero world behind, but now he doesn't know how to be normal citizen.

A/N: Just another scenario tha rudely popped into my head. . .

Bucky Barnes was retired.

It still felt strange, even after months of settling into a life of quiet mornings and unhurried afternoons. He had fought in wars, spent decades as an agent of chaos, and dedicated years to redemption and healing. Now, here he was—waking up whenever he pleased, making breakfast in a house that didn’t have bullet-proof glass windows or a panic room, and trying to figure out what to do with the rest of his day.

Today, like most others, started off simple enough: a run through the neighbourhood, a cup of coffee, and a lazy scan of the news. He’d even managed to fix the leaky faucet that had been bothering you for weeks, earning a soft kiss on the cheek as a reward.

But then… the day stretched on. There were no missions, no tactical planning, no world to save. Just the quiet ticking of the clock and the gentle hum of suburban life around him.

So, Bucky set his sights on something—or rather, someone—far more interesting: annoying you.

And thus began the saga of Bucky Barnes’ Retirement Phases.

Phase 1: The Handyman Hero Phase

Duration: One Month

Bucky started off strong, becoming the ultimate handyman of the household. Everything was fair game for improvement. Leaky faucets, creaky floorboards, wobbly shelves—if there was a screw to tighten, Bucky was on it like a well-oiled machine.

“Bucky, what are you doing?” you asked one morning, sipping your coffee as you watched him carefully measuring the distance between each picture frame on the living room wall.

“Making sure they’re exactly one inch apart,” he said without looking up, his voice deadly serious.

“Why?”

“Because last night, I noticed this one—” he pointed to a frame on the far left “—was slightly off-center, and it’s been bothering me ever since.”

You blinked. “Bucky, it’s fine.”

“It’s not fine, Y/N. It’s one and a quarter inch apart. Do you know what happens when things aren’t balanced?” He gave you a haunted look, as if you’d just suggested destabilizing the world order.

“Chaos,” you muttered.

“Exactly.”

Within weeks, Bucky had rebuilt half the house, repainted the walls (twice), and installed a state-of-the-art security system that even Tony Stark would envy. You came home one day to find the couch moved three inches to the left, the coffee table completely gone (“I dismantled it; we don’t need it”), and Bucky seriously contemplating whether the kitchen would look better with marble or granite countertops.

“Bucky,” you said slowly, trying to remain calm, “I’m begging you—stop fixing things.”

He blinked at you. “What do you want me to do then?”

You panicked. “Anything. Just—find a hobby!”

He gave a solemn nod, as if you’d just entrusted him with a new mission. “Okay. A hobby. Got it.”

You breathed a sigh of relief. If only you’d known what was coming next.

Phase 2: The Google Scholar Phase

Duration: Two Weeks

With his newfound free time, Bucky discovered the internet. And when Bucky Barnes discovers the internet, chaos ensues.

It started innocently enough. You’d come home to find him glued to his laptop, his brows furrowed in concentration.

“What are you doing?” you asked, setting down your bag.

“Research,” he said ominously, fingers flying over the keys.

“Research on… what?”

He glanced up, his eyes wide. “Did you know sharks have been around longer than trees?”

“Uh—”

“And that banana slugs can grow up to 9 inches long?” He leaned forward, voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “There’s a whole website dedicated to weird animal facts. I’ve been reading for hours.”

And so, you were subjected to two weeks of nonstop trivia.

“Hey, Y/N!” he’d shout from the kitchen. “Did you know an octopus has three hearts?”

Or: “Did you know cows have best friends?”

And: “Do you want to hear about the deepest point in the ocean?”

“Not really—”

“It’s called the Mariana Trench, and it’s seven miles down!”

You tried banning Wikipedia, but he just switched to obscure forums. You blocked YouTube, and he found a random chicken fact blog. The worst part? He’d share his newfound knowledge with anyone who’d listen.

“I’m calling Sam,” you muttered one evening after hearing Bucky recite the entire history of the humble potato to the mailman. “You need social intervention.”

Phase 3: The Home Décor Perfectionist Phase

Duration: Two Exasperating Weeks

Denied access to his newfound internet pursuits, Bucky turned to interior design. You were caught off guard one Saturday morning when he asked, “What do you think of paisley?”

“What’s a paisley?”

“Pattern. I’m thinking of reupholstering the couch.”

“Bucky, no—”

Too late. Within days, every room was a different colour. You came home to find polka-dotted curtains in the bathroom, and he’d somehow managed to install a chandelier in the laundry room.

“Bucky, why is there a 10-foot mirror in the hallway?”

“It makes the space feel bigger.”

“Bucky, this is a two-bedroom house!”

He paused, squinting at the living room wall. “I think the polka dots need to go.”

You nearly wept with relief when he announced he was moving on to the garden.

Phase 4: The Amateur Detective Phase

Duration: One Overly Suspicious Month

After redecorating the entire house, Bucky set his sights on the neighborhood.

“Y/N, did you see that guy across the street?” he whispered one morning, peering through the blinds with a pair of binoculars.

“That’s Mr. Henderson. He’s eighty-five.”

“Yeah, and he’s up to something. No one goes to the mailbox that often.”

“Maybe he likes getting his mail?”

“I’m telling you, something’s not right.” He tapped the binoculars. “I’m gonna get to the bottom of it.”

And so began Operation: Neighborhood Watch. Every delivery truck was scrutinised. Every dog walker received a full background check. The poor Girl Scouts who came to sell cookies left looking slightly shell-shocked.

The Girl Scout Incident: When Bucky Barnes Met Thin Mints

The Girl Scout incident started out innocent enough—just a kid selling cookies to the neighborhood. But when Bucky Barnes answered the door, things took a turn.

It was a sunny Saturday morning. You were in the kitchen, enjoying a rare moment of peace, when you heard the doorbell ring. Before you could even get up to check, Bucky’s voice echoed from the living room.

“I got it!” he called out, already making his way to the front door.

Curious, you peeked around the corner just in time to see him open it. Standing on the porch was a sweet-looking little girl, no more than nine or ten, decked out in her green uniform, clutching a clipboard and flashing a bright, eager smile.

“Hi, mister!” she chirped, clearly undeterred by the stern look on Bucky’s face. “Would you like to buy some Girl Scout cookies today?”

You watched as Bucky’s expression softened just a bit, his head tilting to the side in confusion.

“Cookies?” he repeated, as if she’d just offered him nuclear launch codes.

“Yep!” She held up a laminated chart with pictures of the various cookies, pointing to each one with a tiny, rainbow-colored pen. “We have Thin Mints, Tagalongs, Samoas—uh, I mean, Caramel deLites—”

He squinted at the chart, clearly trying to make sense of it all. “Why would you need to sell cookies?”

You nearly face-palmed. Oh no.

The girl’s enthusiasm didn’t waver. “It’s a fundraiser! To support our troop activities and trips.”

“Fundraiser?” Bucky’s voice dropped suspiciously. “Who’s your troop leader?”

The girl blinked, a little taken aback. “Uh, Mrs. Patterson?”

“Uh-huh. And how many boxes of these so-called ‘cookies’ are you supposed to sell?”

Her smile wavered just a fraction. “Um, as many as possible?”

Bucky crossed his arms, leaning against the doorframe. “And where does all this money go?”

“Bucky—” you tried to interrupt, stepping forward, but he held up a hand without looking back, eyes still locked on the bewildered Girl Scout.

“It goes to our troop!” she answered nervously, glancing down at her clipboard as if for reassurance. “For badges and supplies and—”

“Supplies,” Bucky echoed, his tone suddenly sharp. “What kind of supplies?”

“Uh… arts and crafts…?” she stammered, clearly starting to get uncomfortable.

“Arts and crafts?” He leaned in, dropping his voice to a low, conspiratorial whisper. “Or something else?”

You saw the poor girl’s eyes widen, her grip tightening on her clipboard as if she was contemplating using it as a shield.

“Bucky, stop,” you hissed, stepping forward to intervene. But he was on a roll now.

“Who gets the money, huh?” He narrowed his eyes, peering down at her like she was an enemy combatant. “Do you get it?

“Or does it go to some mysterious ‘troop leader’ who’s hiding behind a desk somewhere, raking in profits from innocent cookie sales?”

“M-Mister, it’s just cookies,” she squeaked, glancing nervously at the boxes stacked beside her. “We just wanna go camping this summer.”

“Camping?” he repeated slowly, as if tasting the word. “And what kind of ‘camping’ are we talking about here? Deep-woods recon training? SERE training?”

The girl blinked up at him, clearly having no idea what he was talking about.

“Bucky, she’s nine!” you practically shouted, rushing over to save the poor child from what was rapidly escalating into a full-blown interrogation.

“But Y/N, this could be—”

“It’s not a conspiracy, Bucky!” you snapped, turning to the girl and giving her what you hoped was a reassuring smile. “Sweetie, how much for a box of Thin Mints?”

“Uh… f-five dollars?” she stammered, still eyeing Bucky like he might suddenly sprout fangs.

You reached for your wallet, pulling out a ten-dollar bill and handing it to her. “Keep the change.”

“Thank you, ma’am!” she squeaked, stuffing the money into her pouch with trembling hands.

You shot Bucky a glare. “Apologize.”

He crossed his arms, looking mulish. “But—”

“Bucky.”

He let out a sigh, running a hand through his hair. “Fine. Uh… sorry… for, um… asking about your troop leader and, uh… the money laundering?”

The girl blinked up at him, clearly not following.

“Bucky!” you hissed, elbowing him sharply.

“I mean, sorry for… for… being weird,” he mumbled, shoving his hands into his pockets.

The girl gave a hesitant nod, glancing back at her stack of cookies. “Um… would you like another box, mister?”

Bucky frowned thoughtfully. “Maybe. Which one’s the best?”

“Bucky—” you started, but he was already leaning down, listening intently as the girl launched into a detailed explanation of the flavour profiles of Samoas versus Tagalongs.

Twenty minutes later, Bucky was the proud owner of a dozen boxes of Girl Scout cookies, which the girl somehow managed to upsell him into buying. The look of relief on her face as she walked away was palpable.

You turned to Bucky, hands on your hips. “Really, Buck?”

“What?” he said defensively, clutching his armful of cookies. “I needed to make sure it was legit!”

“Uh-huh. And that’s why we now have enough cookies to feed an army?”

He shrugged, looking entirely too pleased with himself. “I guess I got carried away.”

“Just… try not to scare any more children, okay?”

“Hey, I was just being thorough,” he muttered, glancing down at the boxes. “Besides… these ‘Samoas’ are actually pretty good.”

You shook your head, laughing despite yourself. Because only Bucky Barnes could turn a simple cookie sale into a full-scale interrogation—and then end up buying out the entire stock.

“Whatever you say, Bucky. Whatever you say.”

He gave you a sheepish grin, holding up a box of Thin Mints. “Want one?”

“Sure,” you sighed, reaching out to grab a cookie. Because, at the end of the day, this was Bucky Barnes: ex-assassin, super-soldier, and now… terrifyingly dedicated Girl Scout cookie connoisseur.

The Girl Scout incident, unfortunately, didn’t mark the end of Bucky’s neighbourhood watch endeavours.

“Hey, Y/N, that’s the third day in a row Mrs. Higginson has gone jogging past our house,” Bucky muttered a few days later, scribbling furiously in his notebook.

You glanced over from your spot on the couch, raising an eyebrow. “Uh-huh,” you replied absently, already wondering if now would be a good time to text Steve for a little ‘rescue mission.’ “Maybe she likes jogging?”

“Nah,” he said, shaking his head. “It’s not natural. It’s a cover for something. Probably espionage.”

“Bucky, she’s seventy.”

“Exactly. No one that age moves like that. She’s gotta be a retired agent.”

“Or she’s trying to stay in shape?”

“Or she’s spying on us.” He narrowed his eyes, peering through the blinds. “Maybe she’s HYDRA.”

“Bucky, she brought us homemade banana bread last week.”

“Which tasted suspiciously good,” he muttered darkly, tapping his pen against his chin. “I’m keeping an eye on her.”

It didn’t stop there. He began obsessively tracking patterns—when neighbors took out their trash, when they left for work, who picked up their mail first thing in the morning. His conspiracy board rivaled the one you’d seen at S.H.I.E.L.D. headquarters, complete with photos, string, and a suspiciously large map of the neighborhood.

“Y/N, I need to talk to you.”

You blinked, looking up from your book. “What’s up, Buck?”

He leaned in, his voice low and serious. “Did you know Mrs. Patterson’s dog peed on our lawn three times this week?”

“I—what?”

“And Mr. Thompson left his house twice yesterday. Twice.”

“…is that a crime?”

“Yes. Who leaves the house twice in one day? He’s clearly up to something.”

“Like… groceries?”

Bucky frowned. “No. Something bigger. I saw him walking to his car, get this—without any bags.”

“Maybe he forgot something?”

He shook his head, eyes narrowed. “It’s a diversion tactic. I’m keeping a close watch on him.”

“Please don’t tell me you’re stalking the neighbours.”

“Of course not!” He paused. “I’m… observing. For science.”

“For science?”

“Yes.”

“Okay, Buck. I’m putting my foot down,” you finally managed. “You need to stop this. The neighbours think we’re crazy. You’re scaring the kids and… the mailman won’t come to the door anymore.”

Bucky looked genuinely confused. “Why not?”

“Because you interrogated him about his route last week!”

“He was being shady!”

“He’s a mailman!”

There was a long pause as you stared each other down, Bucky looking defiant and you looking exhausted. Finally, you sighed and ran a hand through your hair.

“Buck… I know retirement is hard. But you need a new outlet. Maybe something a little less—”

“Paranoid?” he offered, raising an eyebrow.

“Yeah. And a little less terrifying for the neighbours.”

He sighed deeply, like you’d just asked him to hang up his shield all over again. “I was just… trying to be useful.”

Your heart softened immediately. Because that was what it all boiled down to, wasn’t it? The man who’d spent his life fighting wars and doing battle against his own mind was now left trying to figure out how to fit into a world that no longer needed him to save it.

You walked over, placing your hands on his shoulders and giving him a soft smile. “You’re always useful, Buck. Even if you’re not interrogating the mailman about federal postal regulations or… spying on seventy-year-old retirees.”

He snorted, shaking his head. “I might’ve gone a little overboard, huh?”

“A little,” you agreed with a grin. “Maybe you should find something else to watch over.”

“Like what?” he asked, looking genuinely curious.

You bit your lip, thinking. “I don’t know… Maybe get a pet? You could… I don’t know, babysit a cat or something.”

Bucky blinked at you. Then his eyes lit up like you’d just handed him the Holy Grail of retirement activities.

“A cat,” he murmured slowly, as if testing the word. “A cat.”

“Yes, a cat,” you repeated cautiously, wondering if you’d just unleashed some new kind of havoc on the house. “You could train it to… I don’t know, not scratch the furniture or something.”

“Or… I could train it to keep an eye on the pigeons,” he muttered to himself, looking thoughtful.

“Wait, what?”

But Bucky had already gone inside, the gears in his mind clearly turning. You shook your head, deciding to let him have this one. After all, how much trouble could he really get into with a cat?

Phase 5: The Pet Phase (aka Operation: Find a Feline Friend)

Duration: Ongoing, with Fur Everywhere

You didn’t think he’d take it seriously. Until you came home the next day to find Bucky sitting cross-legged on the living room floor, a small, white ball of fluff curled up in his lap.

“This is Alpine,” he announced proudly.

You stared at the kitten, then at Bucky, then back at the kitten. “Bucky, what… why…?”

“You said get a pet,” he said, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. “So I did.”

And that’s how Alpine, the grumpy old woman in a cat’s body, became part of your household. Bucky spent weeks trying to train him (“Sit, Alpine! Sit! … Okay, fine, just glare at me, that works too.”), set up elaborate obstacle courses (“Alpine, jump! No, don’t walk away—okay, you know what, just do your thing”), and spoiled her rotten with toys and treats.

With each phase, Bucky’s retirement became a new adventure. And while it drove you absolutely crazy at times, you couldn’t help but smile when you saw Bucky lying on the couch, Alpine curled up on his chest, both looking completely content.

“Retirement isn’t so bad, huh?” you teased one evening, curling up beside him.

He hummed thoughtfully, scratching behind Alpine’s ears. “I don’t know… I think I could use a new project.”

You groaned, but your groan turned into a laugh when he grinned at you, his eyes sparkling with mischief.

“Oh no,” you said, narrowing your eyes. “No more projects, Barnes. You’ve nearly redecorated us out of house and home, scared the mailman half to death, and—”

“Don’t forget the gourmet cookies,” he interjected with a cheeky smile.

You shot him a playful glare. “I’m trying to forget the cookies, thank you.”

“Aw, come on. I think I finally got the recipe down. I’ll just try one more—”

“No!” you practically shouted, your voice echoing through the living room. Alpine, unbothered, merely lifted her head, gave you both a disinterested look, and went back to napping.

Bucky chuckled, holding up his hands in mock surrender. “Okay, okay. No more cookies. No more redecorating. No more… scaring the Girl Scouts.”

“Or spying on the neighbors.”

“Or spying on the neighbors,” he agreed, still looking a little too amused for your liking.

You sighed, leaning back into the couch and resting your head on his shoulder. “You know, most people take up hobbies like gardening or painting in retirement.”

Bucky nodded thoughtfully. “Yeah, but those aren’t as exciting.”

“They’re not supposed to be exciting. They’re supposed to be calm. That’s the whole point of retirement, Buck.”

He glanced down at you, his gaze softening. “You really think I’m the ‘calm’ type, doll?”

You snorted. “No, not really. But it would be nice if, just once, I didn’t come home to find you plotting to build a moat around the house.”

“Moats are an excellent defense mechanism,” he said matter-of-factly. “But okay, I get it. I’ll tone it down.”

You gave him a skeptical look. “You promise?”

“Scout’s honor,” he said, holding up his right hand. The glint in his eye, however, told you he was already planning something new.

“Bucky…”

“What?” he asked, all innocence. “You don’t trust me?”

“Not for a second.”

He chuckled, then pressed a gentle kiss to your temple. “Alright, no more projects. I’ll just focus on Alpine. She’s a full-time job anyway.”

You glanced at the cat, who was now sprawled out like she owned the place. “You’ve turned her into a diva, you know.”

“He’s just refined,” Bucky said defensively. “He’s got standards.”

“Uh-huh. Like the way he refuses to eat unless you hand-feed her?”

“Refined,” Bucky insisted.

“And how she sleeps on your side of the bed and shoves you off with her tiny, evil paws?”

“Selective.”

“And how she sits on the counter staring at you like she’s plotting your demise?”

“Observant.”

You shook your head, laughing softly. “You’ve created a monster, Bucky.”

“Eh,” he said with a shrug, smirking down at you. “I’ve handled worse monsters. She’s a good one. Besides,” he added, scratching Alpine’s head fondly, “she’s family.”

Your heart softened at his words, and you smiled up at him. “Yeah, I guess she is.”

There was a comfortable silence as you both sat there, content in the peaceful moment.

Then Bucky cleared his throat, and you glanced up to see him shifting slightly, like he was working up the nerve to say something.

“So… I was thinking…” he began slowly.

“Bucky.”

“No, no, hear me out,” he said quickly, raising his hands as if to ward off your incoming refusal. “What if we… I dunno… made a baby?”

You blinked, certain you hadn’t heard him correctly. “What?”

“A baby,” he repeated, his voice steady, though there was a telltale blush creeping up his neck. “You know, a little human—our human. Someone we can train to take over the world… or at least keep me entertained.”

Your jaw dropped open. “You want to have a baby—because you’re bored?”

Bucky gave you a sheepish grin. “I mean, I was thinking it could be a good project… long-term investment… future troublemaker…”

“Bucky,” you interrupted, placing your hands on his shoulders and staring at him, bewildered. “Are you seriously suggesting having a child like it’s another DIY project?”

He shrugged, looking as nonchalant as ever, but his eyes were soft and serious. “Maybe. But I was also thinking it’d be nice to have something, or someone, that’s just… ours. A mix of you and me. Something that isn’t tied to the past, or fighting, or… all the other stuff.”

You stared at him, trying to wrap your mind around the sudden turn the conversation had taken. “You really want a baby, Bucky?”

He nodded slowly, reaching out to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. “Yeah. I do. Don’t get me wrong, Alpine’s great and all, but…” He sighed, his smile turning tender. “I just think it’d be amazing to have something more. I’ve spent so much of my life taking orders or fighting ghosts. But starting a family with you? That’s something I get to build. Something that’s ours.”

You bit your lip, heart swelling at his words. Despite the completely unromantic way he’d suggested it, there was sincerity in his gaze, a yearning for something deeper than fixing leaky faucets or buying out the Girl Scouts’ entire cookie stock.

“And you think you’d be a good dad?” you teased, raising an eyebrow.

“Please,” he scoffed, pulling you closer and pressing a kiss to your forehead. “I’d be the best damn dad. I’d teach our kid how to throw a proper punch by age five, dismantle a toaster by six—”

You laughed, shaking your head. “So, what you’re saying is… you want to raise a tiny super-soldier?”

His grin widened. “Hell yeah.”

“Bucky, we are not turning our child into a mini-Winter Soldier.”

He pouted dramatically. “Not even a little bit?”

“Not even a little bit,” you affirmed with a chuckle. You leaned in, resting your forehead against his. “But… maybe we could talk about it. You know, actually talk. Not just… plan a tactical baby mission.”

Bucky’s eyes softened as he brushed his thumb along your cheek. “Yeah. We can talk about it.” He paused, then added with a mischievous glint, “After we practice a little more.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help the smile tugging at your lips. “Oh my God, Bucky.”

“What?” he asked innocently, his grin widening. “Practice makes perfect, right?”

You shook your head, letting out a breathy laugh. “You’re incorrigible.”

“And you love me for it,” he murmured, leaning in to capture your lips in a soft, lingering kiss.

“Yeah,” you whispered when he pulled away, your heart fluttering in your chest. “I do.”

You glanced down at Alpine, who was still sprawled across Bucky’s lap, looking utterly uninterested in the conversation. A baby. You hadn’t really thought about it seriously before, but now that Bucky had put the idea in your head… you couldn’t help but wonder.

There was a brief pause as Bucky gazed at you, his expression growing thoughtful. “You know,” he began quietly, “after that whole Girl Scout cookie fiasco… I kinda started thinking… I’d really like to have a daughter.”

You blinked at him, surprised. “A daughter?”

“Yeah,” he murmured, his voice softening. “That kid was just so… brave, you know? Standing there, staring me down even though I was being a total idiot. It reminded me of you—fierce and unafraid. I couldn’t stop thinking… what if we had a daughter like that? Strong, smart, and completely capable of putting me in my place when I get out of line.”

You felt your heart clench at his words, his quiet admission making your chest ache. “You want a little girl because she’d keep you in check?”

“That,” he said, smiling softly, “and I think I’d like the challenge. I’ve spent so much of my life dealing with people who only saw me as a weapon. I just… want to prove that I can be something else. That I can be gentle… and kind… and love someone unconditionally. The way I love you.”

You reached up, cupping his face gently. “Bucky, you don’t have to prove anything to anyone.”

“I know,” he murmured, his gaze warm and intense. “But I still want to try. And I want to be the kind of dad who isn’t just a protector, but a friend. Someone who’d sit through endless tea parties and help her build pillow forts… and buy all the Girl Scout cookies she wants without scaring anyone.”

You laughed softly, tears stinging your eyes at the picture he painted. “You’d be a great dad, Bucky.”

“Yeah?” he asked, his voice low and hopeful.

“Yeah,” you whispered, smiling up at him.

There was another beat of silence before Bucky leaned in, his breath warm against your ear as he whispered, “So… when do we start?”

You felt your cheeks heat, a mix of laughter and surprise bubbling up in your chest. “Bucky!”

“What?” he asked, his smile as innocent as ever. “I’m just asking. I mean, you know I’m a man of action. Gotta have a timeline.”

“Oh my God,” you muttered, burying your face in your hands as Bucky laughed softly, his arms wrapping around you.

“Okay, okay,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to your hair. “No rush. We’ll take it one day at a time, sweetheart. But just know… I’m ready whenever you are.”

And somehow, you knew this next phase—whatever it looked like—was going to be the best one yet.

× × × ×

Ten months later

The soft glow of the nightlight bathed the nursery in a warm, golden hue, casting gentle shadows on the pale blue walls. The room was still, save for the quiet creak of the rocking chair as Bucky swayed back and forth, holding the tiniest bundle of joy in his strong, yet tender arms.

His daughter, barely a week old, was nestled against his chest, her small, delicate breaths in sync with the steady rhythm of his own. Her tiny fist curled around the fabric of his shirt, as if she knew just how safe and loved she was in her daddy's arms.

Bucky hummed quietly, the familiar melody of an old lullaby drifting into the air. It was a song his mother used to sing to him when he was no older than his sweet little girl was now. The words came softly, almost whispered, as if they were sacred—meant only for his daughter.

“Darling, you're my bloodYou have my heartbeatYou have my heartbeat, beating loud,”

His voice was gruff, yet softened by emotion as he sang, the gentle rocking lulling his daughter further into her peaceful slumber. His fingers brushed through her soft, downy hair as he looked down at her with nothing short of awe. How had he, of all people, gotten so lucky?

He had been through so much darkness in his life—seen and done things he would never be able to forget—but here, in this quiet moment, everything seemed to fade away. The world outside could wait. Right now, his whole universe was cradled in his arms, and for the first time in a long time, Bucky Barnes felt at peace.

Unbeknownst to him, you stood at the door, your heart swelling at the sight before you. You had come to check on them both, worried that Bucky might need help with the baby. But when you saw him there, rocking your little girl and singing so sweetly, you couldn’t bring yourself to interrupt.

A soft smile tugged at your lips as you leaned against the doorframe, content to watch the love of your life in this vulnerable, beautiful moment. 

Bucky was a natural, even if he didn’t believe it. You had seen the worry in his eyes when you first brought your daughter home—the fear that he wouldn’t be good enough, that he wouldn’t know what to do. But here he was, proving himself wrong in the most heart-melting way possible.

The lullaby continued, each note filled with so much love it made your eyes mist over.

"You are my lighthouseA peak of light from the dark cloudsI've lived under my whole life. . .And there's nothing I won't do for you."

Bucky’s voice cracked just a little on the last line, overcome with emotion as he gazed down at his daughter and carefully wiped his tears away. 

She had his eyes—bright and full of wonder, even when they were closed in slumber. He couldn’t help but trace the delicate features of her face with his gaze, committing every tiny detail to memory.

Finally, you couldn’t resist any longer. You stepped into the room quietly, not wanting to startle him. Bucky looked up, surprise flickering across his face when he saw you standing there. His expression softened when he realised you had been watching him.

“How long have you been standing there?” he asked, his voice low so as not to wake the baby.

“Long enough,” you replied, your smile widening as you walked over to him.

Bucky blushed, a sheepish grin tugging at his lips. “I’m not exactly a professional.”

“I beg to differ, I think you’re the best dad in the world.” you whispered, leaning down to press a soft kiss to his temple. 

Bucky’s heart swelled at your words. He never imagined he would be here—sitting in a nursery, holding his newborn daughter while the love of his life stood beside him, calling him the best dad in the world. It still felt like a dream.

“She’s so small,” he murmured, looking back down at the baby. “So fragile. I didn’t think…I didn’t think I could love someone I barely knew this much.”

Your hand gently rested on his shoulder as you gazed down at your daughter. “You’ve got a big heart, James. I always knew you’d be amazing as a father.”

He glanced up at you, eyes soft and full of affection. “You’re the amazing one.”

You reached out to gently stroke the baby’s cheek, and Bucky leaned into your touch, feeling more complete than he ever thought possible.

“I never thought I’d have this,” he admitted after a long silence, his voice barely above a whisper. “A family. A reason to feel…whole again.”

You knelt down beside him, resting your head against his shoulder. “You deserve it, Bucky. You deserve all the happiness in the world.”

Bucky kissed the top of youe head, holding you close as he continued to rock your daughter. The world outside could be chaotic and unforgiving, but in this room, in this moment, everything was perfect.

× × × ×

Baby at six months

The house was peaceful, the late afternoon sun casting a warm glow through the windows. You were out running errands, leaving Bucky home with their now six-month-old daughter, who was currently kicking her chubby little legs and babbling on her playmat. Her eyes sparkled with curiosity as she reached for her favorite stuffed bear, the one Bucky had given her the day she was born.

Bucky sat beside her, legs crossed, watching her every move like she was the most fascinating thing on the planet. He leaned down, his voice dropping to a playful whisper. 

“You know, blossom,” he began, glancing over his shoulder dramatically as if checking to make sure Y/N wasn’t around. “Your mom thinks she’s the boss.”

Their daughter let out a high-pitched squeal, and Bucky grinned. 

“Right? Can you believe it?” he continued, keeping his voice low as if sharing the biggest secret in the world. “She thinks she’s in charge around here. But between you and me, we know the truth.”

His little girl giggled again, her tiny hands grasping at the air as if she was agreeing with him.

“See, you and I?” Bucky said, tapping his finger gently on her nose, “We’re a team. We know how to get things done. I mean, just look at us—surviving nap time, figuring out how to stack those weird little ring toys, and we don’t even need to look at the instructions. Meanwhile, your mom still thinks I can’t fold laundry properly.”

He paused for dramatic effect, raising his brows. “Can you believe that? Laundry. I fought in World War II, and she’s worried I’ll mess up the towels.”

His daughter let out a delighted shriek, her little legs kicking excitedly. Bucky reached over and tickled her belly gently, making her burst into even more giggles.

“Oh, yeah, I know you think it’s funny,” Bucky chuckled. “But trust me, your mom’s got some pretty high laundry standards. I tried to fold one towel, just one, and she came over with this look like I’d committed a crime. 'Bucky, that’s not how you fold them!' she said. And I’m standing there like, ‘It’s a towel, not a top-secret mission.’”

He leaned in closer, as if telling her something top-secret. “She doesn’t know this, but I might’ve folded them wrong on purpose so I wouldn’t have to do it anymore.”

His daughter cooed, her tiny hand reaching out to grab his finger, which she promptly brought to her mouth to chew on. Bucky let her, his heart melting at the sight. She was his little sidekick, always hanging on his every word, even if she didn’t fully understand yet.

“And don’t even get me started on the bedtime routine,” Bucky continued, shaking his head in mock exasperation. “Your mom’s got this whole plan—bath, story, lights out. Meanwhile, you and me? We’ve got a better plan. We chill, we rock, maybe sing a little. You get all cozy, and bam—out like a light.”

“Bababababa,” His daughter babbled something back at him, her little voice full of enthusiasm, and Bucky nodded seriously. 

“Exactly. That’s what I’ve been saying. We’ve got this figured out.”

He scooped her up from the mat and held her close, her head resting comfortably against his chest as he walked them over to the couch. He sat down, cradling her in his arms, and continued his lighthearted rant.

“And the thing is, she’s always right, which drives me crazy. Like, the other day, she told me you were gonna try to crawl soon. I thought, ‘Nah, she’s too young.’ But then what happens? Two days later, you’re scooting around like you’ve got places to be. I swear, your mom’s a psychic or something.”

Bucky gazed down at his daughter, who was now looking up at him with those wide blue eyes that never failed to melt his heart. She let out a happy gurgle, and Bucky chuckled softly, leaning down to press a kiss to her forehead.

“You know I’m just kidding, right? Your mom’s the best. She takes care of both of us.” He sighed, feeling a rush of affection as he thought about Y/N. “Don’t tell her, but I’m pretty lucky to have her. She keeps me in line.”

Just then, the sound of the front door opening echoed through the house, and Bucky’s head shot up in mock panic.

“Uh-oh,” he whispered to his daughter, his eyes wide with exaggerated worry. “The boss is back. Don’t say anything.”

You appeared in the doorway, raising an eyebrow as you saw Bucky and the baby cozied up on the couch. “What are you two up to?” you asked, a knowing smile on your lips.

Bucky gave you his most innocent look, bouncing your daughter gently in his arms. “Oh, nothing. Just hanging out with my best girl here. Right, darling?”

The baby let out a little squeal, clearly delighted by the attention.

“Mmhmm,” You said, stepping closer and giving Bucky a playful look. “You haven’t been filling her head with nonsense, have you?”

“Me? Never,” Bucky replied, trying to keep a straight face. “We were just talking about how great you are. Isn’t that right, kiddo?”

Bianca, oblivious to the conversation, giggled and reached for you, and took her from Bucky’s arms and gave her a kiss on the cheek.

“Well, if she grows up thinking she’s in charge, I’ll know who to blame,” You teased, casting a glance at Bucky.

He grinned, leaning back on the couch. “Hey, she’s gotta learn from the best.”

You smiled, shaking your head in mock defeat. “You’re lucky she likes you so much.”

Bucky stood and wrapped his arms around you, resting his chin on your shoulder as you both looked down at your little girl, now happily nestled between you. “I’m lucky to have both of you,” he murmured softly, kissing the side of your head.

And in that moment, with his two favorite girls in his arms, Bucky couldn’t imagine a better kind of luck.

[multific]

Constellation

Wolf Yautja x Reader

Summary: You loved living alone in your cottage. You moved out to be alone for a reason, you hated people, and you wanted to be left alone. And you were alone until a certain pair of eyes started following you.

You saw the news on the TV.

Aliens.

And yet you ignored it.

You tried to live the life you wanted for so long as best as you could.

For as long as you could.

You still took care of your land, fed your animals and did your daily chores as usual.

You did see a couple of ships pass over your home but nothing more.

You have never seen an alien. Only on TV.

It appeared that they were fighting. 

Then the government decided to nuke the city to kill both aliens.

It looked like it was the end of it all.

But little did you know, for you, it was only the beginning. 

You had a feeling that you were being watched. 

The feeling not quite leaving you alone. You tried to look. You walked around your land, in the woods, nothing, no one. 

Could it be that you were becoming more and more paranoid? Could it be because of isolation?

You were imagining things.

Until one evening, when you heard noises inside your house.

Loud distinctive noises of someone walking around.

Fear struck you. 

You couldn't move out of bed. You just laid there, blankets up to your chin as you were shaking. Your heart beat out of your chest as the door to your room opened.

The person was huge, way too tall for a human, they had to dodge under the door to move in.

Then, came a clicking sound.

This is when you realized, this was no human.

There was a God damn alien in your home!

You knew you couldn't do anything. This thing could tear you apart in a matter of seconds.

You pretended to be asleep, hoping it would leave.

It watched you for a minute or two, which for you felt like an eternity before it left.

After the alien creature left, you rushed to see how it got in.

All doors and windows were locked from the inside. But you surely heard its footsteps moving into the woods next to your home.

You were utterly confused.

How did it get in?!

Why did it get in? What did it want?

It didn't take anything, it didn't hurt you, so what could it want?!

For the upcoming days, you didn't sleep.

The thing came every night, sometimes late in the night sometimes earlier. It just stood there and did nothing.

By the third time you were considering asking it what did it want. Or staying awake to see how it would react.

But you were too afraid.

Then two weeks later, as you were leaving your home, the skull of a deer with antlers was on your porch. It was placed there delicately, facing the door so you wouldn't miss it.

You were sure it was the alien.

Was this its sign to show you that it could kill you? You already knew that.

You took the skull and left it on your porch. You thought if you ignored it long enough, it would get tired and just leave you alone.

But it didn't.

The next day, another animal skull was placed on your steps. Looked to be a cat or a dog.

Then, something like a fox and finally, a wolf skull.

You began to have quite a collection. But you didn't understand. Was this thing trying to intimidate you?

It was working.

You just refused to leave because you spent your life building this place into a home.

But, was your life worth staying?

It showed that it could easily kill you.

But then why was it hiding?

Why did it already kill you and take what it wanted?

What did it want?

--- 2 months ago ---

Yautja prided themselves if they died during a fight.

It was the most honourable death they could ever ask for.

He fought many xenomorphs. One even left its scar on him. 

And yet, now as he was fighting, he survived.

He got back on his ship and left, but his ship got damaged and it broke down in the woods.

Wolf had to fix his ship so he could go back to Yautja Prime.

On his way to find some materials he could use he stumbled upon a farm, he knew some humans lived out in the wild in their houses, away from other humans.

He hid behind a tree and observed, trying to figure out if this human opposed any danger to him.

The first time he saw you was when you took care of your crops.

He concluded that you were nothing but a harmless little human.

And yet, for the next two weeks, he found himself watching you. He sat up on the tree and watched you all day and fixed his ship all night.

He walked around your crops, looking at everything.

To him, it was clear that you were a provider. Much like the females on his planet, you took care of food while the males hunted.

But you had no male. Which was quite interesting to him.

How come no male humans wanted you as their mate?

One night, he got brave and decided to go inside the house while you slept.

He checked your home and found nothing of interest besides you.

He watched as you slept.

He stood there for hours, watching you. 

You were so different from him, yet so similar. 

You preferred to be alone, much like him. 

You didn't have a mate, much like him.

He liked you. Which was extremely rare for him. During his life, he never looked for anyone like he did for you.

And so, he made his decision.

He will court you, win you and bring you back to his planet.

It was a simple plan for him.

And so, the first skull was placed on your doorstep.

You yawned as you got out of the bath, heading to the kitchen for some water before heading to bed, you stopped in your tracks.

It was here.

It was standing right in front of you. It was huge and grey and green and tall and... and you nearly fainted.

You knew you couldn't fight this thing. 

You had no chance against it.

It raised its hands and pulled its helmet off, revealing its face.

This alien looked a lot like the one you saw on the TV once.

The one that fought the other.

You noted the scar on its face as it made a clicking sound. It started to walk towards you, you backed up into the fridge. 

It raised its hand and placed a palm against your cheek. You looked into its eyes for the first time.

And somehow, you felt calm.

It made you calm down.

He made you calm down.

"What do you want?" you asked, hoping he would understand.

But he just made the same clicking sound as he did before. 

"Why did you leave the skulls?" you asked and he moved his hand to the armour on his wrist and pushed a couple of buttons.

"Gi-fts." said a very broken robotic voice.

"Why did you leave me gifts?" you watched as he pushed more buttons.

"Gifts for Mate." 

"Mate?" you asked and he nodded. Realization hit you and you realized, he was leaving you gifts so that he could court you. This must be an alien custom. "What are you?"

"Yautja."

"What's your name?"

"Wolf." the machine seemingly translated his name, but it was okay. "Your name?"

"My name is Y/N."

He nodded again.

"I want to take you to my planet. So we can marry." your eyes widened.

"Marry?"

"Strong female," he pointed at you, "Strong male." you would have assumed that he would have some issue having to marry you, wouldn't they only marry their own?

"Give me time. Two months. T-Then I will go with you." what were you saying? Why did you say that?! You didn't want to go! But you had no other options! This... Wolf clearly would get what he wants.

Maybe... those two months will be enough for you to get used to the thought.

Maybe those two months will be enough for you to grow some form of attachment. 

Maybe... hopefully.

For the next two months, he stayed with you in the house. 

The first week there was a lot of rain and storm so you were inside.

Most of the time you just kept looking at him or watched TV. He didn't speak, but he did notice the skulls you put up above your fireplace.

It filled him with pride, it meant you liked his presents.

That you accepted his courting.

For the upcoming days you cooked for both of you, since you weren't exactly sure what food he liked, you tried steak with potatoes. You can't go wrong with that.

And you didn't. He enjoyed it very much. Then the next day, he brought you cut meat, from where you were afraid to ask.

But you did cook everything that he brought to your home.

And he ate it all.

He still watched as you slept.

But instead of panicking, you found yourself enjoying having him there. He made you feel safe and you found that you wouldn't be able to fall asleep without him in the room. 

You woke up each and every morning more and more comfortable in his presence, which did make you worry.

Turned out, you didn't hate company, you hated human company.

Wolf being the big alien that he was tried his best to be careful around you. He followed you everywhere, he watched you and learned. 

He learned a lot about you from just watching you in the woods, but now, now he knew even more.

He saw the way you worked, how gentle and delicate you could be. But he also watched you chop up wood, showing that you can be strong when need be.

He liked it.

He was proud to pick such an amazing Mate.

It was the last day, two months had gone by and his ship was ready, he was ready.

He entered your house and found you in the kitchen, you looked out your window as if trying to memorize everything. But when you realized that he was behind you, you turned and smiled at him. A gesture he wished he could give back.

"I'm almost ready." you said with a heavy heart, but you were also ready to leave and be with Wolf, see where that path would take you.

And you felt ready for the adventure, it scared you but you felt ready.

You just wanted to remember this place.

You looked back out the window when he came up behind you, standing behind you, you felt his huge body but you didn't feel scared. 

It felt good.

He felt safe.

He was a good two heads taller than you.

You didn't say a word as you turned around and looked at him. You really looked at his scar and his eye. You knew he still could see with it, but his vision wasn't the best on that one.

You could also assume that one of his... mandibles was missing. It's place is still present.

You wished you could ask, you wished he could tell you. He lowered himself, allowing you to reach his face as you reached up and ran your fingers down his scars.

You wished you were there to help him, you could have eased his pain.

And, just like that, you were ready.

--- 3 years later ---

Yautja Prime was very different from Earth.

Yautja were very different from humans.

You learned that Wolf was quite the loner. His name fit him very well.

He preferred to be alone in his home, working on his ship or head on a mission for a hunt.

He liked being with you.

You two were very similar.

You didn't enjoy the company of others, but you enjoyed having the others around.

On your wedding night, Wolf told you how Yautja found their mates.

He also told you about true mates. Which is what you would call soulmates.

He explained how he felt as if you two were true mates and you didn't agree at the time, but now you did.

Spending your last three years with him, you can confidently say that you are in love with him.

You only feel complete when he is there.

And from what he told you, he felt the same. You wore the necklace he gifted you with pride.

And you waited for him every day when he was away on a hunt. He always came back victorious with many gifts.

He proved his worth to you as a male and a Mate.

And so, you never once regretted coming with him. Even if you were nervous in the beginning.

He made sure you had a warm bed, filled with furs.

Every night he came to the bed, he held you close to him, keeping your smaller body close and safe.

You slept with the confidence of having him there. Knowing he would protect you if anything was to happen.

Not like anything ever did.

You found yourself not missing your old life.

The view you spent so much time trying to memorize, long forgotten. 

All because of him.

You woke up every morning in his arms.

His body wasn't warm nor was it cold. But the feeling of his skin under your fingers always lets you know that he was there.

And you couldn't ask for more.

Taglist: @fleursirvart @greenarrowhead @thisismysecrethappyplace @sincerelyfan @theoneanna @aestheticsandmarvel @rororo06 @castellandiangelo @destynelseclipsa @spilledinkindumpster @capsiclesdoll @puknow @alwayshave-faith @alex12948 @lxdyred @imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl @anonymoussherlockandmarvelgeek @praline357 @trshngyn @avengers-r-us @violet-19999 @top1bbgloak  @manduse @jacalineiscomingforyou @mandoloriancookie @noname2246

~Masterlist~

ˇAO3ˇ

/YOU DO NOT HAVE PERMISSION TO TRANSLATE OR REUPLOAD ANY OF MY WORKS TO THIS OR OTHER PLATFORMS/

[bittersw33t-lotus]

Surprise

Ghosting pt. 1

Simon “Ghost” Riley x Fem! Reader

Cw: swearing, unplanned pregnancy, mentions of abortion, angst, arguments, abandonment, younger Simon, story takes place when he’s 25 and you’re 23.

Part 2 here

“kids?”

“What about them?”

“Would you ever want any?”

It was yours and Simon your one year anniversary. It was nothing special, just some takeout and card games with a movie playing in the back. You don’t know how the conversation of your futures came to be but you both knew it had to be said at some point in your relationship. You asked what Simon planned to do once he got older and retired from the military. He asked you questions about your plans as you grew older. That’s when you decided to be the one to bring up the very question that tends to either strain or strengthen a relation, children.

“No. Hard pass. I don’t do well with them nor do I want any of my own.” He never meant to say it with such a rude tone but It didn’t bother you much. You knew that there was a deeper reason why with the way his brows furrowed and the tension in the shoulders. You wanted him to elaborate more but you decided against it.

“Yeah I’m not too keen on children. At least right now anyways.” You said placing down your card on the table as Simon continued to examine his cards to find a way to defeat you. He looked at you as you spoke your last words as you kept your eyes on your cards. You liked kids to a certain extent and wouldn’t mind one later on in your life as you settle down or just none at all. You tried not to let Simons words get to you, since you don’t mind a childless life, as long as you had Simon by your side, but sometimes there would be days where you felt lonely without Simon when he’s deployed to his job. There’s also days where you fear he’ll never come back home and you’d be left with nothing to remember him by but memories, pictures and his possessions. A kid would be something that not only would be a piece of him that breathes and moves but they would be the physical embodiment of yours and Simons’ love, something that would keep you two tied to each other.

As nice as a child with Simon would be, you respected his wishes and you would have to come to terms with it. It’ll just be you and Simon, growing old together in a little house on the far side of town where no one can bother you and it’ll just be you, your grumpy (eventual) husband and your animals to keep you company. Yeah, you could live with that.

Hopefully, if he doesn’t die on the job…

“It’ll just be the two of us and a bunch of animals.”

That’s how you’d thought it be. Until it wasn’t.

You sat there on your bed holding the white stick in your hand. The pink plus sign was burning your eyes. You could feel your stomach churning. What the hell were you gonna do? You were panicking. You had been throwing up the past few days, Simon suggested you’d go see a doctor worried you ate something bad or caught some stomach bug but you refused and said you’d be fine thinking it go away within a few days however more things surfaced on your body that caught your attention. You breast grew a cup bigger and felt sore as hell, you assumed it was due to your period, it was due to arrive in a week anyway but you still found it abnormal that your breast swelled up so much. When the week passed you figured it was delayed due to your little stomach bug but another week passed. That’s when the thoughts hit you. You couldn’t be right? There’s no way you could be pregnant. You and Simon were always careful.

That same day of realization you went to the drug store just to be sure. You brought three sticks and each one came out with the same pink plus sign appearing on the little box. What the hell were you gonna do? How were you going to tell Simon? Maybe you don’t. You can just get an abortion and get it over with. Well, maybe it’s best if you tell him either way. But the more you thought about the baby, the more harder it seemed for you to think about getting rid of it.

You never really made your decision on not having kids, you figured that when it happens it happens, but what about now? Simon doesn’t want a baby, but you’re pregnant with the child you created with the love of your life, Yours and Simons baby…

Tears prick your eyes as you stared at the stick. What are you going to do?

Simon was out drinking with his ‘comrades’ so you had some time to yourself before he came back. You needed to plan a time when you’d tell him. But you were beyond terrified. You know having this baby was putting your relationship with Simon at risk. But this was just as much of his doing as yours, but at the same time, your IUD should’ve prevented this from happening.

You tired to gain the courage in the past couple days since you’ve found out, to tell him but you never could. For days Simon could tell something was bothering you, and it wasn’t the sickness you had. It was something that was clouding your mind. He could see in your eyes that something was troubling you.

Simon had just returned to home from the bar, feeling dreadful about having to be deployed once again here in a couple of days, he doesn’t want to leave you. He hates it, he hated leaving you here all alone, he can’t be there to protect you, hold you and love you but his job makes it worth it if it means you get everything you deserve. Even if he isn’t around for long periods at a time.

As he walks into the house you greet him with a smile, he’s a little tipsy but just barely since he still had to drive home, he did enjoy his time with Price, Soap and Gaz though. Even if he didn’t outright admit it.

“How’d it go?” You asked him as you approach him with a small smile. You’re too nervous to give him his usual greeting kiss which made Simon’s suspicions of your worry confirmed.

“It was fine, not too shabby and the boys were okay as usual. I need to ask you something.” He said glancing your direction aa he looks into your eyes like he’s trying to read your mind, he cups your face gently as he approached you. He saw your body tense up, you tried to save yourself by quickly relaxing before Simon could see but it was too late, he already did. That was his que. “There’s something bothering you, I can see it. You know you can’t hide things from me and I understand you don’t wanna talk about it but at least let me help you the way you help me.”

Your throat grew dry, ‘Shit.’ You thought. You could feel your anxiety flow through your nerves as your hand began to tremble slightly. Your silence worried Simon. “Yn…” He called out but you stood silent.

‘It’s now or never, i can’t hide this forever, not when I start to show.” You thought, Simons hand gently rubbed your cheekbones which brought your attention back to him. Your teary gaze met his concerned ones. “What’s wrong?”

“I’m sorry…” You quivered out. You tried to keep your composure but the hormones betrayed your body. “For what? What happened love?” He grew more worried as the tears rolled down your face. He wiped them away with his fingers as he cradled your face, as you both stare into the others gaze. “You promise you won’t be mad, I’m scared you’re gonna hate me, leave me and…” You whisper but Simon cuts you off as he leaned down to take your lips into a soft but passionate kiss, pulling away you look at him such vulnerability as you wrap your hands around Simons wrist gently. “I won’t.” He whispers back to you, his eyes filled with concern and love in his eyes. It makes your heart break thinking about what can happen next.

Your breath hitched before you inhaled and closed your eyes leaning into Simons touch. “I’m pregnant…” it was silent for a hot second. You felt his hands stiffen up but quickly relax as he looked a bit surprised. Your IUD should’ve been working, but he can’t blame you, there’s still a small chance.

“Have you made an appointment?” He asked after a long silence.

“For what?” You look up nervously, your guts telling you things were going downhill soon now, it’s too late you’ve already made up your mind.

“To get rid of it.” He asks you confused but something was telling him something else is going on. It was dead silence after that, you didn’t even need to say anything, the look in your eyes were enough to tell Simon what your intentions were. His hands were stiff it almost felt like a mannequins hands were placed on your face but then they were quickly snatched away from your grasp and face. You gasped lightly at the action. He took two long strides away from you, his eyes were slightly wide and had a blank look in them as he stared at you.

You wanted to call out to him but his eyes alone were enough to tell you that he was about to run. Your heart throbbed and your stomach began to churn again. More tears began to flow and obscure your vision. “Simon…” You called out to him, you refrained from walking towards him, terrified that one wrong move and he’d run and leave you in the dust. But it seemed to trigger him.

His eyebrows furrowed as his eyes began to show frustration. “No.” He shook his head as you sobbed. “Dammit yn I thought we established this. You promised!” He began to raise his voice, his fear coming to light. Not only was your relationship beginning to strain but you were planning to bring a child into this world. His child. All he could think about was his father and his family something he doesn’t want to experience or risk history to repeat itself.

“I’m sorry Simon but I never made a promise! But I truly didn’t mean for this to happened but it did and when I thought about having an abortion I couldn’t bear that thought of it. I know what we had in mind was to not have any kids but I can’t bring myself to get rid of our baby.”

“No we agreed that we’d have no kids, for Christ sake, I’m always at base and deployed. I can die and leave you to raise a baby alone. And I’m not ready to care for a baby, nor did I ever plan on having one.” He didn’t yell but his voice sounded distant like he was guarded. Like how he used to be when you first met him back in high school, stiff as a stone with years and layers of built up walls around him to keep anybody out from his heart and mind, a troubled Simon who was haunted by his abusive father wanting to save his mother and brother the ones who are now six feet under. One that took you years to slowly tear down and let him trust you with more than one few but big bumble in the road but in the end you never gave up on him and always stuck by his side. “I can’t do this.” He didn’t sound like your Simon anymore. He sounded like Ghost now. The Ghost he separated you from, the Ghost that was cold hearted and never cared about anything or anyone else but getting his priorities done and missions finished.

Your breath hitched. “What do you mean?” Your voice quivered. Ghost didn’t even bother to answer you he made his way to the bedroom. “Simon please!” You treaded after him, your anxiety surfacing again.

You walked into the bedroom to see him reaching into the closet and pulling out his bag, already packed with all the gears and items he needed for his deployment. Slumping the strap over his shoulder as you watched made your throat tighten.

It was nothing but silence the whole time as you watched Simon pack away a last minute items he’d need. You watched as he began to tie on his boots. “You’re right,” you finally spoke. Your voice soft as you tried not to let out a sob. “You don’t have to do this, you can keep doing what you do. I’ll keep the baby without you.” Simon just sat there listening to you as he kept his gaze glued to the ground. You couldn’t see what he was thinking with his Balaclava on now but you could see his fists clenched tightly. “I won’t make you go through this but just know, I still love you Simon, but I want this baby. You won’t hear from me asking you for anything at all. Just know once you walk out that door. I’ll be gone, unless you say something Simon...” you stand there staring at him hoping he’ll say something… anything. A sliver of wanting to be around at least or try to work something out but you know it’ll never come. He’s Simon, Ghost, he’s not, and may never be, mentally prepared nor does he have a lifestyle fit enough to raise a baby. Without a single noise Simon gets up and walks past you to the bedroom door, you watch his back, he doesn’t spare you a single glance before he walks out without another word.

After a few seconds, you hear his boots stomp down the stairs, the door opening and slamming shut. Your que to finally let all your sobbing out easing the pain in your throat. You sat on the floor holding your stomach. You were really on your own now. Just you and your baby.

You were lucky you managed to gain contact with your older sister, Stacy, she and her husband had welcomed you into their home with no hesitation, surprisingly. Granted you and your sister had some mending to do but it was mostly cause by your parents. Your mother had always founds way to turn you and your sister against one another when you two were younger. You both always fought and tried to better the other for praise of your mother she’d always compared one over the other, “Your sister is skinner than you,” “You eat like a pig, your sister eats better than you,” “your sister this” or “your sister that”. You mother always tried to make you two compete against the other that both physically and mentally damaged you both.

Your father never bothered with you two, you could never talk to him without every conversation ending in a some form of abuse or never in the right mindset being constantly high off his mind with drugs. But as you grew older you began to see the things your mother did to you and your sister but you never took the chance to make amends, your sister met her then boyfriend and ran away with him the first chance she got, you did the same when you met Simon.

“Are you alright?” She approaches you as you got out the car. The moment you came face to face with her you wrapped your arms around her shoulders and brushed into tears. “I’m sorry!” You cried out. “It’s okay.” She hushes you and cradled your head. “No it’s not, I should’ve talked to you, we should’ve made up long ago but I ran off…”

“And so did I!” She cut you off. “I was the one that ran off first, I was the one who left you in the dust for some guy that turned out to be a fraud. I chose a man over my own sister but I was too dumb to see it. We both made mistakes but now that we’re here, let’s take this chance to make it right.” She wiped your tears from your face. “Now tell me what wrong?” She asks you as you take a deep breath. “Simon left me.” You say, your sisters eyes widen in surprise and sympathy. “Well technically I left but we decided that we were through.”

“Why, what happened?” She asks you as she began to guide you to her house. As you make your way in you wipe your eyes as you think about the memory.

“I’m pregnant.” You start off, your sister is caught off guard and stunned, but she doesn’t speak and allows you to continue. “I found out not too long ago.”

You sister looks at you in shock. “Is that why… Simon…” she tries to ask, you know what she’s saying before you nod answering her question.

“Yeah, we’ve had the talk before. We agreed on no kids because he didn’t want any, me, I wasn’t too sure at the time but now, now I know, I do want this kid.” You say as you lay a hand on your stomach. “I don’t know what to do know. I told him and shit just went down hill. He made his choice and I made mine. I left home, he left because he’s currently on deployment but he’s made his choice not to be in the baby’s life. I gave him the choice to leave because I don’t want to force him into this since he never wanted any in the beginning.” You say, you sit on the soft couch as you both settled on conversing in the living room.

“He’s in the military?” She asks him a bit surprised, she’s still trying to process all this new information about your current situation and your now ex-boyfriend.

You nod your head and rub your eyes feeling the fatigue catch up to you from the past couple of days. You’ve nearly gotten a wink of sleep ever since Simon left, the past two days you were packing up all your things that you needed and wanted to take with you into your car, and you were stressing about where’d you go and be staying up until your Stacy, thankfully, responded back to you and offered you a place to stay at her house. “Yeah, he doesn’t tell me much about it. But from what I’ve seen every time he came back, it was always bad. He’d come home with bruises, sometimes wounds that sometimes looked to be fatal. It always scares me every time he goes, and I sometimes never know when he’ll be back, or if he’ll come back at all.” You explain to her. You leave out the part where he’d be a shell of himself, like a ghost possessing Simon, so unemotional, and you can never forget how scary it was seeing how empty his eyes looked sometimes.

Stacy looks at you, she’s processing all this and trying to her best to listen but she can tell that’s it’s a lot for her to take in. You don’t blame her, you two haven’t seen each other er for over five years, so there’s a lot of catching up to do. “I promise you I’ll only be here for a few months. I’ll find a place to stay for the baby and I before they’re born, we’ll be out of your hair soon.” You tell her quickly trying to reassure her that it’s only temporary and you’re not going to take advantage of your sister’s kindness and willing to help you out, you don’t wanna have the burden of having her worry about you and have a baby in the house. You’ve already become enough of a burden for Simon with the baby.

Stacy shakes her head and gently takes your hand and gently squeezes it. “Don’t worry about it. Take as much time as you need to get back on your feet. You got a kid to worry about now. And granted, it may be hard but I believe in you. You’re a strong woman, I know you can get through this, you always do. And even if you don’t, I’ll always be here to help you.” She says as she smiles at you fondly.

You feel so grateful for her. Your hormones have you all over the place both emotionally and physically. You’re on the verge of tears as you engulf Stacy into a hug once again. “Thanks Stac.” You say, your voice threatening to crack into a sob.

Stacy smiles at you and hugs you back. “Don’t thank me, you’re my little sister, family looks out for one another. Real family.”

꧁——————————꧂

Im debating if this series should have a twist to it. So stay tuned :)

[ceilidho]

take me home, country road

[ao3]

You have nothing on your person apart from a hastily packed suitcase and the dress you came into town wearing, on the run from trouble back home. Too bad John's missing a bride that matches your description. Or: the 1800s (mistaken) mail order bride au (part 9)

first chapter >> last chapter

-

If you’d lived any closer to other people, you’d be ashamed of the state that you arrive home in. Both you and John had stumbled out of the river and put on your clothes hastily, the fabric sticking uncomfortably to your wet skin, difficult to put back on without drying off. He hadn’t brought a flannel or towel to dry yourself with after your swim—perhaps thought you’d dry in the sun. Even if there had been one, you can’t imagine you’d have the patience.

You move in quick bursts, pants pulled up your legs, blouse buttoned with trembling fingers, feet straight into your bottoms, your socks stuffed in your pockets. John moves with similar purpose, quick to dress and usher you over to Buttercup with a hand flat on your back, pushing you with the force you remember him using all those weeks ago on your way to the courthouse. 

Neither one of you says a word. Words feel far away and clunky. Rough in a way they’ve never felt. Improper too, to turn to your husband under the light of a clear day and whisper, I want you to make love to me. Say to him, I need to be as close to you as physically possible, I need you to soothe this ache in me, in front of God and all of His creatures wandering through the woods. 

You wonder if you look as disheveled as you feel. 

The ride home passes by in a blur. Perhaps the sunlight catches your eye through the treetops and pries the memory from your head, the passive observer in you usurped by the soft animal of your flesh. It feels John’s strong hand on your hip and purrs. It coaxes you to rub your backside up against him, startled when his fingers tighten around your hip and he holds you there against his erection, groaning softly. 

“Keep that up ‘n we won’t make it home, darlin’,” John warns, voice growling in your ear. Your blood sizzles, vision going white. 

You feel coltish when he helps you dismount, legs shaking beneath you as you watch him take Buttercup back to the stables. He makes quick work about it, long legs carrying him swiftly from the house to the stables. It’s different observing him now because the thought that rises to the top of your mind now, like the fat on the cream, sweet and plump, is, that’s my husband. My husband is going to deflower me. My husband is going to take me to bed and strip me down to nothing and spread my legs—

The thought evaporates when you notice him shut the stable doors and head back towards you. Again, he walks with such purpose that you can only stare at the movement of his hips. 

Time stops when he puts a hand to your cheek and bends low, drawing you into another kiss as deep and languid as the one back in the river. His tongue curls around yours, plying you open until you have no choice but to relinquish everything to him. Your tongue, your docility, your mind. Everything parts to let him inside.

“Look at you,” John murmurs against your lips. “Sweet little thing. Can barely keep yourself upright. Let’s get you to bed.”

He ushers you up the stairs with haste. The staircase feels longer than usual, more of an effort to get up each step. In the bedroom, he locks the door like he did that first night, but this time your heart flutters instead of trembling.  

It’s hardly been any time at all since you saw him naked in the river, but the sight of his bronzed flesh and hirsute chest when he strips his shirt off leaves you breathless. He’s the kind of man that you would studiously avoid looking at if you were to pass him on the street. Too strapping of a man to waste your yearning heart on. Too much of a blow if he were to pass his eyes over you and find you wanting. 

But to know that he wants you as bad as he does is almost too much as well. 

John leans back against the pillows with you cradled in his arms, your pants long since stripped from your legs. Your blouse is still on, but barely, rucked up over the soft swell of your belly. Only a single button holding it in place, even the thread on that button loose and fraying. A hand cups your breast, the other folded over your hand resting on your belly, your fingers threaded together.

“God, you’re just about the prettiest thing I’ve ever seen,” he sighs. Your core tightens at that and he breathes a laugh when he feels the muscle of your stomach flex under his hand. “Could hardly believe it the first time I laid my eyes on you. I was spittin’ mad, left waitin’ and wantin’ all those weeks, but then you walked in and…Christ, I just knew.”

“Knew what?” you ask, ignoring the ache in your chest at the mention of the girl he’d been waiting for. 

“Knew I would’ve waited my whole life if it meant I’d get you.”

What does it mean that everything in you quivers at that? On the threshold of breaking. Your husband’s fingers plucking your nipple and then soothing the hurt by swirling his thumb around your areola. He’s worn your resistance down to the quick. You curl the hand on your belly into a fist and his fingers curl with yours.

“Been such a sweet thing for me too,” John says into your ear, dragging his hand from your breast down your stomach and over your hip, curling around the inside of your thigh and pulling it open. He can see everything now, the dewy petals of your sex spreading wide for his perusal, no longer hidden beneath a shift or dress. “Fuck, darlin’…look at that gorgeous little slice of heaven.”

“Oh Lord—” you say, heat crawling up your neck.

John huffs, rubbing his palm up and down your thigh, closer and closer with every stroke. Your sex pulses with each glancing stroke, your breath coming out in ragged pants. “Made me work for it, didn’t ya?”

“I did no—I barely did a thing.”

“Yeah, you did, pretty girl,” he says, dismissing your words, and then his fingers are there, splitting your lips wide, middle finger dragging down the seam like he did on the porch swing all those nights ago. Any rebuttal you might’ve had vanishes in a blink, heart beating staccato. “Could’ve taken it that first night. I wanted to—almost did. But I wanted you sweet and simpering.” He nuzzles into the crook of your neck, beard burning the skin there. “And what are you now, darlin’?”

“S-sweet and simp-simpering,” you whisper, stuttering when his finger glides over your opening and finds you soaked. So slick that his finger sinks right in up to the second knuckle.

Your knee falls open even more. 

He smiles against your neck before kissing up to your temple. “That’s right, honey. Knew you had it in you.”

“Oh—it’s…it’s…” you gasp when he gives you another, two fingers plunging into you, shallow pumps that hardly get you where you need to go.

“There we go, darlin’. Ain’t that nice? Need ya to be nice ‘n soft for me—don’t wanna hurt ya.”

He’s far from hurting you, but still your stomach twists up. 

“I need—I need—p-please, John, give it to me.”

“And wha’s that?” You can hear the smile in his voice. “Give you what, honey?”

You’re tempted to grab his hand and bring his fingers up to your clit, but you can’t quite muster up the nerve. Instead you huff, brows puckering in frustration. You try to draw your knees up to your chest and gasp when he pulls his fingers out of you and wrenches your knee back down to the mattress, pinning it there. 

“None of that,” John scolds, his wet fingers curling around the inside of your knee. “You have to ask for things, darlin’. Use your words.”

Your core clenches at his words. The little bit of stretching that he did leaves you feeling empty without his fingers, slickness dripping down the inside of your thighs. 

“I need to…” you say, thoughts slipping from you. All you want is for John to plunge his fingers back into your sex and take you to your peak, but the words get lost as they travel down your tongue. “It’s not enough.”

“Just my fingers, you mean?” The same ones he digs into your leg until the flesh bulges around his fingers. 

“No,” you whine. You try to drag the hand intertwined with his on your belly down to your sex, but he resists, keeping your hand pinned in place. He holds firm when you struggle, chuckling at the whine that slips past your lips. 

“Poor girl. Needy little thing, aren’t ya? Not stretched enough yet though, darlin’—I’m a lot bigger than a couple fingers.” You choke at that, scandalized. “I’ll give your clit a little lovin’ though.”

He takes his hand off your knee and brings it up so he can spit in his hand. You flinch when you hear the glob of spit hit his palm, and then his hand is back between your legs, wet palm grinding into your sensitive button when his fingers push back into your hole. Single-minded now, trying to coax your orgasm out of you. Forcing a third finger into your hole and shushing you dismissively when you howl and try to squirm away.

The voice in your head demeaning you for acting so lewd is drowned out by your own cries when you come on John’s fingers. It disappears entirely when John kisses your temple and thanks you for giving him your release. Like it’s a gift you’ve given him.  

Your hands flutter over his shoulders when he gets you on your back and fits his hands into the creases of your knees to guide your thighs open. He must like what he sees because his eyelids droop when he stares down at the slick folds between your legs, heavy with lust. 

“Lord, that’s pretty,” John says, petting your clit with his thumb and smiling when you squirm. 

You breathe in quick, shallow breaths, hopelessly beyond composing yourself. Perhaps once or twice you might have allowed yourself to imagine what it might be like to lie with a man. You’ve heard other women giggle amongst themselves about it, about men going cross-eyed, rubicund cheeked, heaving bellies and thighs slapping against the girl’s rear—a handful of thrusts and then finally some peace and quiet when he passed out on the other side of the bed. 

You’re familiar with the mechanics, if only in theory. The expectation of disappointment; that you’d only have to grin and bear it. Think of England. 

John, of course, does not conform to those expectations.

“You take my hand, darlin’,” he murmurs, taking your hand in his and pressing it down to the bed. “Give me a squeeze if it’s too much.”

Your mouth is too dry, mind too scattered to form a response. All you can do is stare up at him.

“Hey.” With his other hand, he gives you a light tap on the cheek. It doesn’t even sting, but it makes you blink. “You still with me?”

“Yes,” you answer, nodding. Your heart jumps when he reaches down to take his shaft in hand and notch the head against your sopping entrance.

Everything collapses down to the feeling of him pressing forward, an insistent siege that doesn’t let up because when you squeeze his hand reflexively, it comes with a, yes, yes, please, falling unbidden from your lips. It feels foreign at first, bigger than the fingers he pressed into you before. Claustrophobic, suffocating. With his arms braced on either side of your head, John eclipses everything else from view.

When it gets too much, you squeeze his hand and dig your nails in, hissing at the stretch. It hurts, and the more you tense, the tighter you get. John winces when you clench around him.

“Easy does it,” he says, squeezing your hand back. He dips his head to drop a soft kiss on your lips, coaxing them open. When you think of the men that languish in opium dens, you imagine that it must feel something like John Price’s tongue licking into your mouth. 

“It hurts,” you mumble when he pulls away.

“I know, honey. Being so brave for me though.” You whine when he sinks in another inch, flexing your toes up in the air. “My brave girl—that’s it…just a lil more, darlin’.”

“There’s more?” you blurt out, and he laughs, the sound coursing through you, shaking you with him. 

Effervescent bubbling joy swells in your chest, so crystal clear for a moment. The man above you almost glows, so radiant that you reach a hand up to cup his face, entranced. 

There’s nothing like him in the world. No one else like him. Steel underneath silk, the very roughness and essence of man that you’ve always known tempered by a softness that makes you physically ache. And in spite of self-doubt and common sense, he looks down at you with the same reverence. Knowing nothing about you. Knowing only something essential about you, the part divested of history, past or future. Whoever you are at your core, he wants it. He’s taken it as his own. 

Then he pushes that last inch into your cunt and you go breathless. 

“There we go, darlin’,” John grits out, and you can see the sweat beading on his temples now. “Good fuckin’ girl, takin’ all of that.”

Your hand feels clammy in his, a thin layer of sweat building on the nape of your neck and along your back as well. He helps you cinch your legs around his waist more comfortably, and you lock your ankles at the small of his back, but still it feels too much. Stretched to your limits. You can hardly swallow, never mind open your mouth to speak. 

John praises you the whole time in hushed whispers, squeezing your hand in his and petting your face with the other. Fingers slide past your cheek and tangle in your hair, a thumb tracing the shell of your ear. He drops wet, sucking kisses down your neck and over your clavicle, licking up the hollow of your throat. Your skin must taste salty with sweat, but still he lavishes you with kisses. 

“Can you take a bit more, darlin’?” he asks. “Still hurt?”

“It—it’s tight,” you rasp, wiggling your hips. You’re hardly able to move though, pinned in place by his bulk. 

“C’mon, arms around me,” he tells you, waiting until your hands are tangled together behind his neck. “We’ll take it real slow, okay?”

You squeak with the first thrust, not expecting the feeling of his cock pulling out of you before pushing back in. He rocks into you slowly though, letting you grow used to the feeling of him inside you. His eyes don’t leave yours the whole time. Dark blue warmed by the sunlight.

My husband’s inside me, you think, a bit hysterically. The same man that you thought might lock you up and throw away the keys now has you on your back in his bed—your bed—making a space for himself in your body. 

The discomfort takes most of the pleasure away at first. All you can focus on is the way your flesh has to stretch to accommodate him with every thrust, the breath forced out of you. Lips screwed up, teeth digging into your bottom lip painfully to hold back the soft grunts building up in your chest. 

“You alright?” John asks in a pulverized voice. You’ve never heard him quite like that.

You squeeze your eyes shut. “I’m f-fine.”

You don’t sound fine. The sound he lets out lets you know what he thinks of your response. He takes greater care for a time after that, each stroke deliberate, a slow, smooth glide. You feel ragdoll-like in his arms, like a poppet for him to play with; a well-cared for thing. A treasured thing that he rocks into and peppers with kisses, across your eyelids and forehead. 

The bedroom echoes with the sound of your panting breaths and John’s deep, guttural groans every time he sinks into your sex, the lewd, wet squelch of your cunt growing louder as his hips pick up speed. You can see the second you lose him when his eyes go flinty, staring past you. His hands fist into the bedsheets, knuckles going white. 

“Jesus—” he grunts, driving into you hard enough to send you shuttling up the bed. You squeal at that, digging your nails into his back. “Yeah, hold me like that, honey.”

Your breasts bounce with every thrust. John’s eyes flit between them and your eyes before snapping back up to meet your gaze, barely tearing his eyes away long enough to blink. 

Your skin feels hot, tight. Worse when he finally takes your nipple into his mouth like back in the river and suckles. Crude, wet sounds fill the air; sucks that turn sloppy. He kisses between your breasts before latching on to your other nipple. 

He murmurs praises into your skin, breath going choppy. Little susurrations. My wife. Brave, pretty girl. Taking it so well. Tiny little thing.  

When a couple tears leak down your cheek and it starts to build beneath your skin, hot tongues of fire licking up in you, John’s lips pull into a flat line. He can smell it on you. See it in the way your eyes lose focus, glossy and wet. He grabs your face with one hand, pinching until your lips purse. 

“Look at me when you come,” John growls, fingers digging into your cheeks and forcing you to meet his gaze. “You look at your husband when he makes you come.”

You couldn’t look away even if you wanted to. His fingers pinch where they hold your cheeks. This close to his end, his strength gets away from him; you can feel the attempt to be gentle, but it gets lost in his frenzied need to pump his spend into your belly. His biceps bulge beside your head, a vein near his temple throbbing. 

“You w-won’t let me go? You won’t leave me?” you ask desperately. You don't know why you need to hear him say it, but you’re afraid you’ll die without it. 

“Mine until the end of fuckin’ time, you hear me?” He pinches your cheeks until your mouth falls open, then leans down to lick into your mouth. “You’re gonna let me put a baby in you, wife, and you’re never gonna fuckin’ leave me.”

You come when his mouth brushes over yours, the intimacy overwhelming. Your thighs tighten around his waist, trying to get as close to him as possible, nails raking down his back. If you could climb into his skin, you would. 

John reaches his peak noisily, his thick spend filling your cunt and his tongue filling your mouth. You can feel it inside of you, spurting against your womb, and even the thought of that makes you shiver. He made a house for a wife and children, and he has the former now. Only the latter is missing. 

His hands and mouth are everywhere on you. Petting along your flank, stroking down your side. Sucking softly at your lower lip while he pumps the last of his essence into you. You feel wrung dry, every limb aching and sore. It’ll be worse come morning. For now, exhaustion settles over you like a blanket.

When he pulls out, you can’t help the sound that comes out of you, like a sob trapped in your chest. 

“Oh Lord, I’m a mess,” you whisper, leaning up on your elbows and glancing down between your legs with morbid curiosity. 

Embarrassment at the sight of John’s come leaking onto the bed sheets nearly makes you curl up into a ball. It’s filmy and sticky when you try to gather it up with your fingers. You wipe it on the bed sheets when you realize that now you just have a mess on your hands. 

The mattress squeaks under his weight when he gets off, wet, flaccid cock swinging between his legs. Again, you can’t help but stare despite the way your stomach twists. 

“Sit up,” he orders, and you do without thinking. “Can’t go to bed like this.”

John washes you with a warm cloth, dunking it in the porcelain basin on the bedside table whenever it gets too cold. You’d protest the gentle treatment, but it’s nice to be waited on for a change. You can see why some would grow used to it. The only time you lose your cool is when he drags the washcloth gently between your legs. 

“You could just give me the cloth,” you snip, horribly embarrassed. “I’ve washed myself once or twice, you know.”

For all your spitting and hissing, he only laughs. 

He takes care of the wet spot beneath you as well, lifting you up and sitting you down on the wooden chair before changing the sheets. 

“I can—I can wash those in the morning,” you chime from the chair in the corner of the room, ankles crossing and uncrossing nervously. You wince when you feel a glob of his spend drip out of you. 

John’s mustache twitches with a barely contained smile. “We’ll worry about that in the morning, bug.” 

It’s hard to just let things go. Two weeks in his care can barely begin to equate to the decade plus you spent fending for yourself. There are still days you spend looking over your shoulder, waiting for your past to catch up with you. Waiting for this life to evaporate like smoke. You can’t relinquish all of your control just yet, not when that possibility still looms on the horizon. No matter how much you want. 

You don’t think he knows what’s doing. Not truly. 

John can’t know what he’s become to you. That he is fixed, that he is binding you to a present that you never saw as sure. It wavers in front of you like the fickle light of a candle, and suspended above it, you stare at the douter, waiting for it to come down and snuff the flame out.

[rafeandonlyrafe]

pink unicorn

inspired by this adorable video of drew

words: 600

warnings: dad!rafe, mom!reader, very soft and fluffy

“rafe.” you sigh, rubbing your forehead with your fingertips, eyes flicking between his hunched over frame and your daughter. “she doesn't even want it anymore! she's moved on.”

you watch as rosie occupies herself with your phone, giggling every time she presses the button to turn the screen on and off, looking at the picture of herself and rafe on your lock screen.

“she said she wanted it, im going to get it.” rafe grunts, putting more coins into the claw machine. he tries for a fifth time to get the pink unicorn stuffie that your three year old became obsessed with having for an entire minute before moving on to the next sparkly thing. 

“baby, come on.” you groan. you knew when you married him that rafe was stubborn, thankfully it didn't rub off on your daughter, who is the happiest and most agreeable little girl you've ever seen.

“my princess deserves whatever she wants, including this stupid-” rafe jerks the claw machine “fucking- stuffie.”

he groans when the claw machine grips the unicorn, only for it to fall before he can navigate it back to the shoot.

“rafey, please. you've been at this for like five minutes. we can just buy her a unicorn stuffie.” you don't point out that she already owns probably twenty similar ones.

“one more try.” rafe glances at your daughter, frowning when she really is completely disinterested in the toy.

“okay. then can we keep going?” you question. you were supposed to be walking around the mall to look for a present for a birthday party rosie got invited to, of course also getting distracted by everything along the way, rafe bending to whatever store rosie wanted to go into, whether it was candy or video games, anything bright that looked exciting.

“mama.” rosie whines, your phone now sitting on the floor. 

“come here, baby.” you pick rosie up, grabbing your phone at the same time and slotting it into your pocket. some people try to tell you not to baby your toddler so much, but you love being able to carry her around and keep her close, dreading the day that she's too big for you to lift easily.

“daddy, wheres my unicorn?” she pouts as the claw drops the stuffed animal again. rafe just gives you a look as he loads more coins in.

“for real, babe, last try or we are going to the toy store and leaving you here.” you know rosie is just going to find a million things she wants inside of the toy store anyways, probably another five pink unicorns.

rafe nods, concentration overtaking his features. rosie cheers him on from your arms as he hooks the unicorn around the center, claw raising up and bringing it over to the shoot. it falls perfectly down, both rosie and rafe shouting in excitement.

rafe gets the pink unicorn out, holding it out for your daughter to hug into her little arms. “thank you daddy!”

“anything for you my little princess, come here.” rafe opens his arms as rosie practically launches herself from you to snuggle into his chest.

“i wanna introduce pinky to my other unicorns.” she babbes about having a big tea party as rafe glows just looking at her.

“of course.” rafe nods. “let's go home right now so me you and pinky can play together.” you don't point out how all of rosies pink toys share the same name.

“babe!” you call out, following rafe out of the mall towards the exit. “we still haven't gotten our gift!”

“ill order it on amazon!” he calls out as you catch up to him and his long strides. 

“come on, mommy, i wanna play.” rosie pouts, face mimicking her expression with big pleading eyes.

“fine.” you sigh, unable to say no to either of them. “but you have to clean up your tea party when it's over!”

“yesss!” rafe pumps his fist in the air, leaning forward to press a kiss to your lips.

“and no real food! you’ll spoil your supper!”

taglist: @winterrrnight @bejeweledreverie @drewstarkeyslut @forstarkey @f4ll-for-you @dilvcv @drudyslut @seeingstarks @angelofcigs @cece45450 @babygorewhore @vanessa-rafesgirl @michelleisheres-blog @outerbankspov @drewstarkeyswifehoe @cutielando @kamninaries @buckyswhxre @rafeinterlude @bellbottombaby @deeaardiary @rubixgsworld @wearemadeofstardust0 @leighbronk @starkeysheart @pradabambie @tobesolovelysstuff @alexiskirkland @rafestar @brioffthegrid @juniebugg @magicalyoura @cokepewpsii @mysticallystilinski @luvdella @aerangi @folklorsweet @yourenogoodforme @auryyz @mayhem-72 @thestarlithideout @marvelfanfics1recs

[augustinewrites]

synopsis: wriothesley always knows exactly what you need.

building a home in fontaine’s countryside was the best decision that you and wriothesley had made. the privacy was your main reason for moving out here, where your home is hidden away from eyes that pry, tucked safely underneath the linden trees. 

of course, there are a lot of things about your house that you love. the ivy that wraps around its walls, the acres of land for gardening and raising animals, or just to sit within and admire. you love the warmth of the fireplace on cool nights and the south-facing windows that let golden sunlight fill the room. you love this home because you built it together (with the help of your friends). 

but your absolute favourite piece in your home has to be the clawfoot bathtub. deep enough to nearly reach your shoulders, long enough to stretch your legs across. sinking into a bath in this gorgeous tub was the perfect way to end a long week.

you’re preparing a bath now, trussing it up with bath salts, essential oils, some bubbles. candles for ambiance. the setting sun was still bright enough to bounce soft light around the room, but you liked the warm glow candles provided. 

the only thing left now was to strip out of your work clothes. you toss them in the basket, rolling your eyes as you pick up a stray sock that seemed to just miss the basket last night. 

“unbelievable,” you mutter with a shake of your head as you grab the stem of your wine glass, cradling it into your chest as you climb into the tub and slowly lower yourself into the warm water. the second you lean back against the ceramic you instantly begins to relax. the tensions from the work week are already beginning to drift away in a heavenly haze of lavender scented steam and bubbles. it’s just you, your wine, and a quiet evening.

the sound of the front door being thrown open jolts you out of your daze. you nearly spill your wine when you sit upright, body alert at the thought of an intruder. 

your husband calls your name. 

“bathroom!” you call back, releasing a relieved sigh as you sink back into the water. you hear his heavy footsteps quickly make their way across the cottage. he’s home early today. 

wriothesley appears in the doorway, lopsided smile on his face as he already begins loosening his tie, stepping into the bathroom. “don’t you look relaxed.”

you simply hum in response, smiling up at him. at least until he pulls his shirt over his head, tossing it in the general direction of the basket. 

“wrio,” you pout as his trousers suffer the same fate. “your stuff goes in the basket. not in the area around it.” 

“they’ll get there eventually,” he shrugs, gesturing for you to scoot up. “don’t want the water to get cold.”

so much for a quiet evening.

“you know, the purpose of the bigger bath was so that we wouldn’t be squished together like this,” you mutter as he slides into the water behind you, tucking himself snugly against your back and settling his chin in the crook of your neck

“maybe i just like being pressed up against you,” he says, placing a gentle kiss on your shoulder. “i do like having a bigger bath for our…activities though.”

you roll your eyes, and wriothesley makes up for his lewd insinuations when his hands start working at the knots in your shoulders. “wanna tell me what you’re doing home so early? i usually have to tear you away from your desk for the weekend.”

“promise you won’t freak out?” he sighs, digging his fingers into a particularly large knot at the base of your neck. it’s a trap and you know this, but it just feels so good. 

“wriothesley–” you start.

his fingers move under your chin, tilting your head toward him so you’re eye to eye. “i may have left clorinde in charge so i could take a few days off.” before you can get a word out, he swallows your argument with a kiss.

“wait,” you sputter. “how many days did you take off?”

“three days starting tomorrow,” he answers quickly, leaning in for another kiss. you place a soap-covered hand on his mouth and push his face away, ignoring his confused noises. 

“you can’t take that many days off, we have the finance meeting with neuvillette on monday,” you remind him, scooting to the opposite end of the tub to avoid any more distracting touches. “i can’t go by myself–”

“ah,” he interrupts, rubbing the back of his neck. “i may have signed off on a few days off for you too.”

“what?!” you yell, but it’s more like a shriek. “don’t you remember what happened last time you left clorinde in charge? the infirmary–” 

“i told her she can’t hit them this time!”

you huff, bubbles floating through the air as you cross your arms over your chest. you’re surprised he’d take so much time off before an important meeting. 

“come on,” he urges, that sneaky smile you hate to love still playing on his lips as he leans forward in the water. you feel his hand grip your ankle, barely lifting your leg above the water, thumbs rubbing firm circles into the pad of your foot. “i’m not trying to get out of anything. i just want to spend some more time with you.”

you have to admit, he looks absolutely irresistible right now. The way the warm sunset bounced off the rivulets of water dripping down the planes of his chest painted a very pretty picture for you to look at as he massaged your tired muscles. 

and he’s right. the two of you have been busy lately, sneaking quick kisses when you pass him in the hall or hiding away for a moment before one of you is called for. 

his skilled fingers work their way up your calf, soothing the muscles you used to walk around the infirmary. You lean your head back, letting your eyes slip closed as he starts describing your weekend off in a low voice that makes heat creep up to your cheeks. 

“it’ll just be me and you all weekend. We’ll lay in bed all morning, then i’ll make you a special brunch–” you crack one eye open to send him a wary look. “okay, you got me. i’ll order us a special brunch. then we’ll have a picnic out in the yard, maybe do some fishing at the dock…”

okay, you’re sold. a restful weekend with your love sounds perfect. 

“well, as long as you’re prepared for the– ah,” you gasp, shuddering as his fingers travel up past your knee. “wriothesley, what are you–” 

“shh, just giving you another preview of what you’re in for this weekend,” he laughs, fingers grazing your inner thigh. “let me help you relax, love.”

[envy-of-the-apple]

ive been really obsessed with your gojo/geto naga oneshots and asks lately it feels like literal brain rot at this point its so good. ive reread it 6 times lol

i was wondering though, what would Geto do if Gojo was just a little bit too heavy handed with you? to the point of a sprained or broken arm or leg. Would he get mad at Gojo or just mad in general that reader was hurt? Also how would they act in response to the injured reader who can't do basic tasks themselves, I personally think they would enjoy the fact she relied on them even more to even move now.

Reminder requests are still closed!!!! I just love this idea so so much holdon lemme-

Part one Part three

(Yandere, dark, implied forced relationships, noncon touching, biting, language barriers, drugging(?))

Top of the Food Chain pt2

Dark!Naga!SatoSugu x reader

Two days later, Satoru still wasn't allowed inside the cave.

You can hear him, hissing and clicking, right outside, hovering just behind the invisible line Suguru refused to let him pass. If you weren't already in so much pain, you would have found pity on the poor thing. He wasn't allowed in his own home, even though the incident wasn't entirely his fault.

Technically, Satoru saved you. It was yet again another escape attempt. Something you'd been doing a lot these days once you've figured out these beings' intentions with you. You'd gotten past the rock quarry this time, a new record. Your plan was filled with holes: there was no way to truly escape the island. You had no boat, no way to call for help. Still, you ran, forgetting that there were more dangerous things on this island other than two territorial serpent men.

It was a monster. There was no other way to describe it. Big, ugly, shiny spikes and sharp teeth, eyes dripping with bloodlust. You would have been eaten, killed, maimed, if Satoru hadn't caught up with you in time.

The only collateral was the loss of nearby plant life and your broken wrist.

That had been Satoru's fault. He'd pulled at you too hard at the hand. The remnants of adrenaline from the fight, his anger, anger made him too rough on your fragile body. He froze at the wet snap, and then you started screaming. That was how Suguru had found you. Despite how much Satoru clicked and hummed and tittered, from his mate's look, you doubted it helped his case.

Another lonely coo made you wince. Suguru only huffed, wrapping you tighter in his coils. They were already warm from your body heat. The numerous animal pelts helped your comfort too.

"Make him stop," you beg, "he's been going on for hours."

At that, Suguru lifts his head from the base of your neck. He tilts his head as he surveys you, and you can't help but think how awful you must look. Sickly-looking from the pain, clammy skin. He can't do much about your appearance, but the least he could do was shut Satoru up.

"What want?" Suguru asks, "water?"

At that, he picks up a sack filled with sea-smelling water. You wrinkle your nose, turning away, cocooning yourself within his coils. With the increased pain, your appetite has decreased, as well as your thirst. The stress of being trapped like this along with your broken wrist was starting to take its toll on your body.

Suguru makes a sound of disapproval, shuffling around behind you. You know he's still mad about the escape attempt, but he's concerned enough for your well-being to put his anger to the side for now. He'd helped wrap your wrist, using something stretchy and soft.

You raise your wrist up, inspecting the thin material wrapped around your wrist. You're not sure what it is, it's too silky to resemble cotton. It must be from the foliage around the island. Yet, another strange thing you'd never find the answer to.

There's another rumble coming from the Naga's chest. He wraps a hand around your chin, bringing your face closer. In his other, he holds the dripping sack.

"Suguru," it's too soft to be anything more than a whine, "it hurts too much to take anything right now. Stop."

"Hurt?" he asks.

To that, you gesture to your broken wrist. It may not have been broken, you were no doctor, so you couldn't say for certain. But considering you'd been in the same amount of pain for two days, it really didn't matter to you.

A click, before he's tossing a glare at the entrance of the cave. He'd already given Satoru a beating right before coming to coddle you. Despite being bigger than his mate, Satoru is docile enough to take them. Suguru had been acting more aggressive lately. You had a feeling it was your fault.

He'd been inspecting your wrist every so often, but you see a different look within his brown eyes now as he takes your injured hand. He carefully turns your palm over, pressing slightly into your wrist. When you yelp, he retracts.

"Hurt." Suguru confirms. You can only nod.

"Hurt. No drink? No eat?" You don't like the way he's talking. As if he's putting a puzzle piece together. Coming to a solution you won't like.

When you go to pull away, his grip only tightens.

"No hurt," he says it like a promise, as though you're a toddler and he's coaxing you into drinking a sour-tasting medicine. His lips part, revealing the fangs you've often seen him use on meat, on Satoru.

Never did you think he'd ever use them on you.

"Suguru," you're pleading, trying to move away when he bends down, his hair brushing your sweaty forehead. You can feel his breath on your neck.

"No hurt," he repeats, and then he bites down.

He lied, of course, he did. His teeth puncture your skin, tearing through like paper. You think you screamed, or maybe it was more akin to a pitiful whimper. In the background, you can hear someone hiss, Satoru maybe?

For a second, you feel everything, the pain, the puncture wound, Suguru lightly licking your neck.

And then, you feel weightless.

It's hard to describe, but your brain feels like it's turned to mush. Your body feels like you're on a soft cloud, just there, floating. In the back of your mind, you remember how dazed Satoru would get whenever Suguru bit him. At the time, you just thought he was lovestruck.

When Suguru pulls away, he's smiling. A trail of blood, your blood goes down his lip. You can barely keep your eyes on him, close to falling asleep.

"No hurt," he says. When he leans down to kiss you, you accept without a single fuss.

You don't remember much after that, but you remember accepting whatever Suguru put in your mouth. The panic in your body was non-existent as he held the water-sack above your lips, watching as your throat bobbed. You think he kissed you a few more times, but you're not too sure. You were a lot more averse to kissing before. It'd make sense he'd take advantage of it.

When you wake up again, you're in between two bodies. The pain in your wrist is still there, but not as horrible as before. You're still groggy, mind fuzzy. Whatever Suguru had given you was still in effect.

Satoru is the first to notice you're awake. Suguru and him must have made up during the time you were unconscious. He props himself up, peering down at you. With how dim the cave is, you can barely make out his features. He looks just as guilty as he had two days ago.

"Sorry," he mutters, "is sorry."

If you weren't still high, you might have laughed. When you continue to stare, he takes it in stride, leaning forward to kiss your cheek, then your lips. You wince in distaste, leaning back.

"Stop," you say but don't fight when he licks at your jaw. You can barely move your fingers.

Panic is still far away, a distant call than anything alarming. It should worry you, but you still can't feel anything.

Suguru is at your back. You can hear his scales move across the cavern floor. He gives a hum, content as he curls himself around you. He doesn't seem to mind Satoru's touches. Your theory that they must have made up is unfortunately starting to strengthen.

You could barely manage Suguru's coddlings. You don't think you'll survive Satoru's.

"Sorry," he mouths into your neck. You can feel the grip on your waist starting to tighten. He stops, rising up to stare at you.

Blue, almost glowing.

"But no more leave."

You're coherent enough to piece together what he means. You can't escape Satoru. You can't escape Suguru. You can't leave this island. Running away is useless.

The nagas understood it. It's time you did too.

"Yes," you finally say, "no more leave."

[chlmtsdoll]

SHOPPING WITH ART

౨ৎ Summary: it’s in the title ! Ballerina!reader x Art on a shopping date 🤍

౨ৎ Word count: 2k

౨ৎ Warnings: sugar baby! reader, mentions & talk of sex (duh !), semi public sexual acts, age gap (reader early 20’s) dilf age Art, fluff, needy reader, horny Art, mentions of Tashi in between, mutual pinning, petite!reader (sorry tall ppl), reader and Art are all over each other constantly

A/N: don’t know if I should classify this as a blurb or a fic but I’m gonna go with blurb since it’s short and sweet !!

“Dogs ?”

You had scrunched up your nose and shook your head terribly at Arts attempts to guess your favorite animal. He tilted his head as he looked down at you with a grin.

“Cats ?” He probed. You nodded pleased, with a giggle.

“Do I strike you as a dog person at all ?”

“No.” Art had laughed out and it sounded of wealth and pure adoration of you.

You two had been walking down Rodeo Drive in the mist of perfect weather on a bright day, Art had offered to take you shopping while Tashi took care of tennis business for the two of you. She requested some space and quietness for an hour or two — so of course you’d never pass up your expectation of basically trying on dresses for Art Donaldson as a living.

It still hadn’t hit you on the full one-eighty your life has taken from going from a lost ballerina to Art and Tashi’s young, beautiful, tennis prot��gé.

Or shared girlfriend. Whatever you had been.

You loved it. Especially days like this, you’d spend as much time as you could with Art when he wasn’t touring because he made you feel like it had only been the two of you on earth when you were together. You never stopped laughing, blushing, kissing… and a spawn of other things.

But when he’d been actually playing tennis, or doing things for his career like press or photoshoots. You missed him dearly. Even when he’d spend time with his daughter Lily.

It made your mood dim, and you’d find yourself dissociating from conversations or tennis to think about him or ponder when he’d be back to steal you away again. Tashi always caught you in the drift of it, but you’d snap right back to reality when you’d hear her say. “Okay. Art’s gonna take you out.” Your mood and demeanor would shift entirely.

“I feel like Julia Roberts in Pretty Woman.”

“Isn’t that movie controversial ?” Art questioned.

“Aren’t you much older than me ?” You replied as you glanced up at him, giving him every glitter of your wide Bambi eyes. He chucked.

“Oh. So should I walk on the other side of the sidewalk.. if that’s too much for you ?” He looked down at you as he moved from where you walked to the other side of the not so spacious side walk to prove his sarcasm.

“No!” You pleaded with a girlish laugh as you followed him anyways, bumping your shoulder into his arm on purpose not to be separated for another second.

You’d want to hold his hand so badly when you two would be out together, but with his public image being Tashi Duncan’s star husband, it wasn’t exactly the best decision when it came to the press — so even with as much as he wanted to, Tashi always told him to lay low when it came to physical contact with you in the open. Especially somewhere as public as Beverly Hills.

You’d never known where paparazzi had been hiding, lurking and waiting. And it wouldn’t be so easy for them to try and idealize it as Art Donaldson and his exceptionally younger “friend” that he takes shopping and on dates.

Tashi couldn’t control when you had been at home and essentially couldn’t keep your hands off each other entirely. Always hugging, cuddling, fucking. It didn’t matter. You were on him or vise versa, but when you’d go out Tashi would specifically insist “don’t touch each other.” before you’d leave.

But hiding didn’t transpire to you so much when you just completely couldn’t help yourself when it came to the man that made your heart flutter, you’d fought the limitations anyways.

Walking side by side you brushed your pinky against Arts much bigger hand. You saw him look down and a soft grin took upon his lips at the sight of your manicured pink tips grabbing at his hand. He could never resist you. locking pinky’s with yours, your smile had turned bashful but pleased as you’d walk together. Just praying no paps had caught the moment and you’d have to go through Tashi’s wrath later on.

♡

It was dress after dress you’d pick off of the rack, skirts, tops, and more shoes than you’d ever seen at once in person. But you absolutely adored this. Trying not to make another painfully high pitched sound when you’d find another pair that made your eyes go wide in awe.

Art was right there behind you as he chuckled at all of your darling reactions, finding it utterly too cute. You were like a doll and he’d spoil you till you’d probably pass out from exhaustion the moment you both got home from all the perks of shopping till you dropped. Literally.

“I don’t know. I love the waistline, but a deep v neck ? I just don’t see it.” You stepped out of the dressing rooms to where Art had been lounging on a chair since he wasn’t allowed in the actual dressing room area.

Art couldn’t say he didn’t know a thing or two when it came to a sense in fashion. Tennis was a sport based around the most expensive and luxury brands displaying their most fashionable and articulately put together pieces on star athletes like himself. But mainly living with the total of four ladies including the maid, had done his knowledge of the craft wonders.

“I think you look amazing in it, baby.” He implied, crystal blues tracing your perfect body cinched into the tight dress.

It made your breast sit in such a way that Art had to adjust the way he sat in his seat. You looked at yourself in the mirror while your hand ran down your curves. Your heels made you stand taller and your legs showcased eloquently.

One of the workers brought you a glass of champagne and you thanked her kindly before taking a sip, then turning to Art with a suggestive unsure look on your face.

“But do I look amazing though ?” You asked puzzled, with mostly sarcasm and art had shook his head, he chuckled as you glided back into the dressing rooms.

He even brought you things to try on as he just couldn’t pull back from his own suggestions of what he thought you looked to die for in.

“Art,” You turned to him opening up the curtain of the small space as you’d been in the mist of changing, just in your bra and panties.

“Put this on.” He passed you a dress and you were taken back by his desperation and need to see you in his choice of clothing. You stood and took it from him, but you couldn’t deny the slight pass of dominance from him turned you on a bit. You smiled at the curtain when he closed it quickly to leave so he wouldn’t get caught.

When you came out in what he had gave you, Art unfolded his leg and sat straighter in his chair as he examined the sight. And was it a sight to see.

The dress was white, a sixties kind of cut as it made your waist look otherworldly. The corset top made your torso extend and it was short enough that if you moved a little too much it would have been quite a show.

“So, what do you think of your outfit choice on me, Mr. Donaldson ?” You asked with your hands on your hips and the look on his face as his eyes graced over you had you blushing terribly.

Art had to take in a breath with an embarrassing place being lost for words, he stood up to walk towards you. His hand touched the delicate straps.

“Turn around.” he instructed.

“Okay. Bossy.” You joked, meanwhile he bit his lip to hold back nearly letting out an audible noise as he took in the way it cupped your ass just right. You were perfection in his eyes, all dolled up just for him. He licked his lips,

“You’re gorgeous, angel. Do you like it ? Because I love it, and I think you need it in your wardrobe. Well, not need, but it would be a nice touch.” He went on and you laughed at his high regard, your face heating up quite quickly now.

“I think it’s really pretty.” Your hand ran across the top that was embroidered with jewels, your smile enchanting as Art watched you.“next one coming up.”

You had walked by to go change again, but as you did you felt a smack on your ass and you turned around quickly to see Art grinning to himself when you gasped.

The responsible side of you would of protested as you remembered Tashi’s words, but you were anything but responsible when it came to your favorite blonde. You shook your head as your sly smile matched his and you went back into your dressing room.

Unfortunately, it wasn’t that long before Art had snuck in again and opened up the curtain, this time inserting himself into the room with you.

“Art!” You could hardly stop him before he had moved your hair out of the way and started attacking your neck with kisses, sucking in your sent as hands ran over your body,

“Fuck, you look good.” He breathed out as he kissed you and you’d fallen weak to his trap. Hands running to grab his hair as he groped your tits through the dress and kissed you sloppily. He towered over your dainty figure as he treated your body like clay for him to mold, you let out a whine from the back of your throat as he ran his tongue over yours.

His hands were flighting to unzip your dress while hiking it up your hips at the same time.

“Careful, it’s not mine,” you breathed out as Art peppered kisses anywhere he could.

“Oh, it will be yours. I’m buying it as soon as I’m done with you.” his tone was low and full of arousal as he pushed your front against the wall of the dressing room.

As much as you wanted him to fuck you right there, feel every inch of his need to have you take his cock while he treated you to an entire wardrobe that any girl your age would die for, was enough to make you shed your panties right then. But you had slipped from under his grasp.

“We can’t, we’re in public.” You uttered and Art had backed away from you with a groan as he ran his hands down his face and you grinned at the state you had gotten him in, uncomfortably hard and dick nearly ready to come through his fly at just the sight of you.

“Fine,” he sighed out and got ahold of himself before leaving again, you tried not to give him a mischievous smirk as you adjusted yourself and the dress. “Don’t think I don’t know how much you want it, you little minx, be ready for later because we’re not done here.”

You batted your eyelashes and acted all innocent as he shut the curtain and then you giggled to yourself. You had all the shoes and dresses you wanted ready by the time you exited again, and now with lips shimmering with gloss, you made eye contact with Art as he paid for all your new attire with pleasure. Licking his own lips every time he scanned over you, he carried all of your bags and he walked out with you happily.

Completely forgetting about the paparazzi, Art took your hand in his with ease. leading you down the walkway and you had bitten your lip under a satisfied little smile.

A/N: ugh ! I need that !

[buckys-wintersoldier]

When we are older | B.B

Your childhood best friend and you plan to marry on day, you can’t wait to be old enough to do so. But when you move away, things change and Bucky isn’t the sweet boy you fell in love with, or is he?

Paring -> BestFriend!Bucky Barnes x BestFriend!Fem!Reader

Wordcount -> 6.724 Words

Warnings -> childhood best friends to lovers, Bucky being a sweet one, Bucky being a dick, Steve being a good friend, angst, mention of fucking other girls, hurt/comfort, fluff

Authors Note -> Republished after I deleted it a while ago. The idea was inspired by the song “older” by Ben Platt.

Events -> Fandom-Free Bingo: Pride Edition | Row One-One | Weekend away | @fandom-free-bingo | Multifandom-Flash Bingo: Compliments | Row One-Four | Appeal to flattery | @multifandom-flash

Masterlist | Bucky Barnes Masterlist

10. March 1925

"Happy Birthday, Buck!", you scream and throw your hands around his neck. He immediately wraps his arms around you and presses your little body against his. "Now you're 8 years old,", you say with a proud smile on your lips, and you kiss his cheek gently.

"Come, I will show you my presents," he whispers, and he takes your hand into his little one. He runs, pulling you along with him, with a huge smile on his lips. He is so happy to have you with him. His little doll, his best friend and the one he loves the most.

When you both arrive at the table, you are fascinated by all the presents. "My new stuffed cat. I will call her Alpine. Mommy said, I will get a cat when I get older." He puts his stuffed animal into your arms. It's a little white cat with ocean blue eyes. They immediately remind you of Bucky's eyes. "It looks so sweet, and her eyes are as blue as yours," you say, patting the little head of the stuffed animal.

"And here," he says, climbing on the table to find something else to show you. He hands you a picture. It shows the both of you during the trip a few weeks ago. Bucky stands behind you, and his hands are wrapped around your waist, while you both stand in front of a waterfall. His head turns towards you, and you still know the words he whispered into your ear.

"We are going to marry one day, aren't we? I love you so much, my doll. You're the most wonderful girl in the world, and I will love you forever."

You both giggle when you look at the picture. His one hand wraps around your waist while you lay your head on his shoulder. "You still remember what your answer was?", he smiles, and you nod. How couldn't you?

"You're so sweet, Buck. I will love you forever, too. Can we marry at the beach? Or in the tree house?", you asked, and his answer was "Everything for my doll."

He put the picture back on the table and wanted to do the same with the stuffed animal when he saw you wrapping his arms around him and cuddling. "If you cuddle Alpine more than me, I'm mad,", he says, giggling, before you both walk back to the other guests. All of them are adults, but you both don't mind; you have each other, and that is everything that counts for you.

Bucky and you lay in the tree house, watching the stars and the moon, while most of the guests are home again. His hand is around you, and he presses you tightly against his body. "I wish we were already older; then we could marry,", he whispers, kissing your forehead.

You absolutely love his forehead kisses, and you're the only one doing it. Even when someone told him to kiss another girl, he hit the guy in the face. "You remember the theater when you almost wanted to hit the man's face?", you ask, and Bucky nods, breathing loudly against your skin and making you giggle.

The week before the holidays is always filled with much fun for the students. And this time it is a theater performance. You wait for Bucky before you walk into the room with the other kids and adults.

"Hey, doll,", he says, wrapping his arms around you. He kisses your forehead gently. You walk together into the room and take a seat next to each other. When the lesson starts, you both pay attention to the people explaining what you all have to do. But you and Bucky can't stop looking at each other every now and then. He smiles widely when you meet his gaze, and his eyes brighten whenever he looks at you.

After finding out more about the characters, the plot, and the role for everyone, you start to exercise the performance. You're on the stage right now. You play the fairy, which you really want to play, and walk in the background before you have to go to the prince to tell him what he has to do. Bucky stands in front of the stage, looking as often as he can towards you while he plays his role as the prince.

When you walk towards him, he smiles widely, while the princess sits in front of him, looking into a book. A dwarf has enchanted her, and the prince wants to help her before they are going to marry each other.

You reach them and walk a circle around them. "You don't need to fight against the dwarf; you only need to kiss her. The kiss of true love, my prince.", You say your lines and walk around them both before you go off the stage. He follows you before he turns his head to the princess.

Bucky leans down, but he is a few inches away from the princess. "James, you need to kiss her. Just her cheek or her forehead,", the man says. Bucky turns around and looks at him with half-closed eyes, and his eyes darken. He is angry, and you know that because when someone makes jokes about you, he looks like that too. "I don't want to kiss her,", he says, folding his arms in front of his chest. "We talked about that scene. It's just her cheek or forehead,", the man tries again, but Bucky shakes his head.

He walks off of the stage and towards the man. When he stands in front of him, he doesn't even reach the chest of the theater teacher. With his little fingers, he points up to him and speaks between clenched teeth. "I. Don't. Want. To. Kiss. Her.", he points out every word.

You smile at the scene in front of you. Little Bucky is a big man, but Buck acts like he is bigger and could throw the man down when he wants to do it. "But a prince has to kiss the princess,", the theater teacher says, pointing towards the princess before he looks back at Bucky.

Bucky shrugs and walks towards you. The man looks at the two of you in confusion when Bucky presses his lips on your forehead, making you blush. "I've kissed my princess. And she is the only one I will kiss. I'm not going to kiss a 'would like to be' princess. Only my princess, and she is playing the most wonderful fairy because she is the most wonderful and perfect girl on earth. Understood?", he says, looking with an angry gaze back at the teacher.

He smiles and shakes his head lightly. "Oke", he says, clapping into his hands. "Then you don't have to kiss her. Put your head on her head,", the teacher adds, and Bucky nods proudly of himself before he kisses your forehead again and walks back on the stage to practice the theater performance.

You both lay in the tree house, looking at each other and talking about everything and nothing. Both of you love to just be there; it's like your little home. And you're almost planning your wedding and your future life together.

"No matter what happens later, the one person I take care of, protect, and need in my life is you, my doll,", he says, and you blush, giggling about his words, but you want it too; you want him.

28. June 1933

Bucky stands in front of you. His arms are around your waist, and he presses you against his chest. He is still bigger than you, and over the years, he has gained a lot of muscle. The cute little boy turned into a young, wonderful man, and almost every girl loves him, even some boys.

"You know I still love only you,", he whispers, and his voice breaks a bit. "We are gonna marry one day. It's not that long until we can marry,", he jokes, but you can feel the tears running down his cheeks. You smile sadly when you pull away. Just a bit to look into his eyes.

His eyes are red, but he smiles slightly. He tries to give you some strength. "I love you too, Buck,", you whisper, and you know he will wait for you. Shit job from your parents, so you have to move to the other side of the country. But he is yours, and you're his; you both have said that. His lips meet yours, and you can taste your salty tears while you lay your arms around his neck, pressing him more towards you.

When you have to go into the car, he waves and runs next to it before your parents drive too fast for him. You lean your head back and close your eyes. The tears stream down your cheeks quietly. You know he will wait for you; you know you're the only girl in his life; and you know he wouldn't do the things you both did. But no matter how much you know that, you don't want to move away, even when you know you can come back in a few months, maybe some years.

You pull out the little letter he gave you before you take your seat in the car.

For my doll.

When you unfold the letter, you can see the whole paper covered with blue ink and his handprint, which you love. But you also see some points with smeared ink, and you know he cried when he wrote the letter for you.

Hey, doll. 

I hope you will have a good start at the new school there. If not, write to me, and I will come to you as far as I can. Believe me, I wanted to tell you that I will never find the right words. I had a couple of weeks to think about the perfect words.

You smile at his words, knowing he is right. And so both of you could just cuddle and kiss each other. Lying in the tree house again and feeling the things you already felt eight years ago.

Can you imagine that I got Alpine eight years ago? And now we have the real Alpine for a year. I told you about a surprise; I will tell you what it is. When you open your suitcase, you will find something you really love. And I can't get the picture of you with it in your hand out of my head. So I decided you both are perfect for each other until I can hold you in my arms again when I visit you. When you open your suitcase, you will find Alpine there. The stuffed animal, of course, but you have loved her since my eight birthday, so she is yours, like I'm.

You feel the smile on your lips with every word you read, but also the tears. Your mom takes you out of your thoughts and off of the letter for a moment. "We planned a trip, and we could ask Bucky if he wanted to come with us. Actually, we already asked him and his parents, and they said yes,", he says, stroking your knees with his hand. You smile even wider and look at her. "That sounds perfect,", you say before you turn your attention back to the paper.

I love you so much, and I can't wait to hold you in my arms again. A second surprise for you is the chocolate you like the most. I put it in your favorite cup. This is the chocolate we had our first kiss with. Or it was the reason for our first kiss.

You chuckle lightly when you think about the kiss. The first real kiss you both shared was the first time your lips met his, and the feeling of butterflies in your stomach grew.

It was when the both of you were in the tree house, like always. You watched your favorite movie while eating your favorite snacks. When he was looking at you, Bucky pointed to your face. "Was it there?", you asked, giggling, and he sat up. You rolled yourself to the side and looked up at him. "There is someone chocolate,", he whispered, kissing the corner of your mouth. Then he placed his lips on yours. "I think I got you mixed up with the chocolate,", he whispered against your lips, making you laugh softly.

He told you a few minutes later that there was no chocolate, but he wanted to kiss you. He laid on his back again and was looking at you while he told you. You leaned your body over him and kissed him again, while his hands moved to your hips and he pulled you onto his lap.

I love you, my doll; I always have and I always will. I can't imagine a life without you because you are my life. I hope we can see each other in the next holidays; otherwise, I will go crazy.

And I know you will be the most wonderful girl at your new school, and they will love you. I hope it is for them; otherwise, they miss the best person there is on this planet. I believe in you, and I'm so proud of you, doll.

I love you 'til the end of the endless line.

Your absolutely best friend, boyfriend, and one-day husband, Buck.

You have never talked about boyfriend or girlfriend. It was something usual for you two. You love each other, and there is no one else in your lives. So no one of you needed to say that directly or ask for it; you both are perfect for each other, and you know it since you're little kids.

5. September 1933

It's your first day at your new school. During the time you meet a boy, he lives just a few houses away from you, and you both become good friends. He is as old as you, a blonde-haired, muscular boy named Steve Rogers.

The two of you had a lot of time during the holidays, so you spent this time together. He helped you to avoid the pain in your chest, and he helped you to live at least a bit without Bucky by your side whenever it's possible. And Steve made you laugh as often as it was possible.

"Steve, where are we?", You laugh and look around. You're in the middle of a big room, but no one except the two of you is there. "In the classroom. Oke, maybe not, but I thought it's here,", he says and looks around.

You laugh even harder when he starts to scream like a little girl. "What the fuck?", he shouts, and when you look at him, he stands behind a table. "A spider,", he says, scratching the back of his head and blushing. "But it looks like a very big dinosaur or something,", he mumbles, trying to climb over the table again.

You look at him. "A dinosaur, really, Steve? You remind me of Bu-", you interrupt yourself, and your eyes widen. "Sorry, I'- not wanted,", you stutter quietly, but he shakes his head. "It's oke; don't worry. I know you miss him,", he says, and you nod your head, feeling the tears in your eyes, and wipe them away with one hand.

You feel his arms around you, and he holds you until you calm down a bit. "Can we go to our class now? I think this isn't the right room,", he whispers, and you chuckle lightly. Then he takes your hand and pulls you along with him out of the room and into the next room.

"Mrs. Y/L/N and Mr. Rogers,", the teacher says, pointing to the seats in front of him. You already don't like the place, but when you complain, the teacher will hate you. So you just walk to the table and take a seat, looking up at your teacher. He nods and continues with his lesson.

While you work on the tasks, your teacher walks around, and he often stands next to you. Steve sits next to you, and whenever the teacher isn't next to you, he makes jokes, and you almost burst out laughing whenever he says something.

"Steve, this is way too funny,", you say and giggle lightly. "Is it?", The voice of your teacher appears behind you, and you feel the cold shiver along your spine. "Sorry,", you mumble, but it doesn't help much to get less homework.

The lesson feels like two hours when you finally hear the bell and you almost run out of the room. You have a short break right now, and you want to use it to write a letter for Bucky. You told him you would send some his way, like you two did during the holidays.

When you reach a bench, you sit down and search for paper and a pen. You don’t need to think too long about things you write; you always have something to tell him, even if it’s only ‘I miss you’ or ‘I love you’.

Hey Buck.

Like I said last week, school started today, and it’s not too bad. I and Steve were late because we were in the wrong room, but it was oke. He made a lot of jokes in the lesson, and the teacher saw it.

But no matter how funny he is, he isn't like you. I really miss you, and I hope we can meet during the holidays. And in a few years, we can finally marry. I wish we were already a bit older.

How are you, and how is the school? Still as boring as always?

I love you, Buck.

Y/N.

You write, and when you finish it, you smile and put it all back in your back. With a look at the clock, you see the next lesson starts in a few minutes, so you walk back to go to your math class.

"Y/N!" Steve shouts and smiles at you when you walk closer. “Let’s go to math class, oke? And what do you think about a movie night?” he asks, and you nod immediately. “Sounds perfect,” you say, and the two of you make your way to the next classroom.

10. July 1935

You haven’t seen Bucky for eight months now, and he doesn’t write you letters anymore. You miss him so much, and it gets worse every day. Not even Steve can help you, so he made the best plan for the holidays, and when he stands in front of your door and shows you tickets, you smile lightly.

“We are going to meet him,” he says, and you look confused. “In the cinema?” you ask, and Steve chuckles. Then he shakes his head and hands you the tickets. You look at them, and when you realize this, your mood immediately changes to happiness.

Those are two tickets for the train, and when you read the place you are going, you can’t stop smiling. “We are going to meet Buck?” you ask to make sure you haven’t read something wrong. Steve nods at you, and then he points to the date. 10. July; 10.25 a.m.

"Steve, that’s in one hour,” you say, and you turn around to look for everything you need. He looks at you with amusement but also with adoration in his eyes. He takes a seat on your bed while you put everything in your bag.

When you suddenly turn around, you face Steve. “You’re the best,” you whisper, and you wrap your arms around his neck. “I know,” he chuckles, and he kisses your cheek gently. “But now let’s go,” he says, standing up to walk out of your room. You follow him.

The drive to Bucky takes a while, but with Steve, it isn’t boring. The two of you play some games and talk about everything and nothing. Even when you have already told him a lot about you and Bucky, you can always find other things for him to tell Steve. And he listens even when you talk for hours about it, and sometimes he asks you things so he can listen to more of your stories.

“He doesn’t have holidays yet, so we can go to school and meet him there,” you say while you wait to finally arrive at your home. Even when you live in another place now, your old home is still your home because of Bucky.

The next station is the one the two of you need to get out of the train. So you put your things into your bag and put on your jacket before you walk to the door with Steve. A big smile forms on your lips when the train slowly stops, and you would jump up and down when you could, but there are a lot of people, and you don’t want to embarrass yourself or Steve.

“Do you smell that wonderful air?” You ask when the door opens, and you take a deep breath. Steve chuckles, but nods then. “It’s nice here. So where is the school?” He asks immediately and looks at you.

He loves to see that huge smile, your lips, and the way your eyes brighten when you think about Bucky. Steve knows that Bucky means a lot to you, so he feels your joy inside of him as well. And he knows you to see that you’re so excited about the trip like he is. Steve can finally meet Bucky, the boy you always talk about and who seems like a really nice guy and lovely boyfriend.

You make your way through the streets to the school. With every step, you feel the excitement inside of you growing, and when you see the big building, you want to run there.

“There we are, almost, this building there,” you say, and you smile wide when you point to the school. The two of you walk next to each other along the street. With every step, you see more of the building and the schoolyard.

“When you walk around the corner and then along the street, you reach my old house,” you say, pointing to a corner. Steve follows your finger and looks interested. “It looks beautiful here, even better than in your stories,” he laughs, and you do as well. “Thank you for coming here with me,” you mumble before the two of you walk over the schoolyard.

“No problem. I prefer to see that beautiful smile of yours,” he chuckles, and you look up at him before you take his hand and pull him with you until you reach the entrance of the school.

There are already a few students, and when you look around, you see your favorite brown-haired boy. “Steve, Steve, there he is,” you mumble excitedly and walk closer to Bucky, who stands next to a tree and a little bench. When you walk closer, you see a girl standing in front of him, and she laughs about something.

“Buck,” you say, and he immediately turns around. He nods towards you and looks up and down at you before he looks at Steve. Bucky looks like a young man now; he has muscles, a slight beard, and his short brown hair is messy, but his steel blue eyes are still the same, as are his looks as well.

He turns his head back to the girl, excuses himself, and then comes closer to you and Steve. “What are you doing here?” He asks and nods to Steve. “I wanted to see you. I wrote a few letters, and now Steve said, we come here." You mumble and look up at Bucky.

The brown-haired boy nods and opens his mouth, but before he can say anything, another girl comes closer. “James, it was wonderful yesterday. Do you think we can do it again?” She asks, and you feel a cold shiver along your spine.

“But not today,” he says, and the girl smirks at him before she walks back to her friends. “Sorry,” he mumbles and looks back at you. You feel like you don’t know Bucky anymore. He looks so different, and his gaze and voice are so cold that you shiver whenever you look at him.

“How are you?” You ask, not knowing what else you could ask. "Good, and you? It looks like you found someone,” he says, looking at Steve, who stands next to you. “He is my best friend, but we are not together,” you say, and there is just a nod from Bucky.

“James, babe,” the girl he excused himself calls him. He looks annoyed and turns around. “Even when I fuck you, I told you not to call me ‘babe’ and I’m busy right now,” he groans, and you gasp quietly. The girl mumbles something, but Bucky just shakes his head and looks at you again.

“Sorry,” he says, and you feel the tears in your eyes. "Do you sleep with her?” You ask, and he chuckles darkly before he shakes his head. “I don’t sleep with her; I fuck them. Those girls beg for me; they are on their knees to spend a night with me. And I can do whatever I want with them; they are like fucktoys,” he explains, and you feel a tear rolling down your cheek. “What happened?” You whisper, and he looks confused before he shrugs.

“Buc-“ he interrupts you. “James,” he corrects, and you feel like you're in front of another person right now. The sweet boy who wanted to make you smile, loved you when you laughed, and wanted to marry you isn’t in front of you right now, and you don’t know why he is the way he is right now.

“I have my next class now, and after that, I go to a party with some girls to fuck them, so I need to go to my class now. It was nice to see you. If you want to get fucked too, you can just ask, but I’m sure he is also really good," he says, looking at you before he looks at Steve. “Have you fucked her, or are you the one making love?” He laughs sarcastically and waits for Steve's answer. “I don’t fuck her, and I haven’t slept with her. She loves you so much that she says no to everyone who just wants to dance with her, except me,” Steve says, placing an arm around your shoulder while you feel even more tears streaming down your cheeks.

When Steve says that you love Bucky, there is a moment where he looks like a lost puppy, a broken boy, but it immediately changes into a cold gaze, so you're not really sure if you saw it right. With a nod, he walks to the entrance of the school.

“Now we are older, and I wish we were younger,” you mumble and hide your face in Steve’s hoodie. He holds you tight against him and rubs your back with his hand, trying to calm you down while he mumbles sweet words into your ear.

“It’s oke. I have you, and he is hurt; he can’t see that he is doing this to you too,” he whispers, and you look up at Steve. Your eyes are red, and your cheeks are wet while you look up at him. “What do you mean? He fucks with all of those girls here,” you mumble, and you feel the tears burning in your eyes again. Steve uses his thumb to wipe them away and looks at you with a small smile.

Before he answers, he lifts you up, you let him carry you to the bench, and he sits down with you on his lap. “Have you seen that gaze when I told him you love him?” Steve asks, and you nod. “He misses you, and he is hurt. Maybe you should talk to him,” Steve explains, and you shake your head. “Noo,” you whisper and lean your body against Steve’s, your head resting on his shoulder.

“It wasn’t an offer; you will talk to him or I will,” he demands. “I don’t want to”, you mumble against his neck, and you close your eyes to get some sleep. Steve rubs your back slowly and helps you to sleep while he looks to the door, waiting until Bucky can go home.

It’s not too long until the door opens and the first people run out of the building. When Steve finds the brown-haired boy, he looks at him until he recognizes him and walks towards the two of you. You're half asleep when Bucky stands in front of you and looks at Steve. “What are you still doing here?” He asks and then looks at you with a loving gaze for a moment.

“I know you have a party you want to go to and fuck all those girls, but I want you to know that there is one girl who really loves you and she waits for you. When she saw you with those girls today, something broke inside of her, and I know you’re hurt. I don’t know why, but I don’t want you to hurt her. There was no one other than you she was talking about, and whenever someone asked her to go out, she said no,” Steve says, looking at Bucky with a serious look. “When you’re hurt, then tell her. But don’t act like you don’t love her. I can see that you have that look when you look at her; it’s only then. So warm and loving,” the blond-haired boy says, and Bucky swallows hard.

"Maybe, but I have something to do today,” Bucky says, wanting to turn around, but Steve stops him. “When you go to the party without talking to her, I will tell her that there is nothing about you that she always told me about. And that it’s not worth it to wait for someone like you; there are a lot of boys who would treat her better than you do right now,” your best friend says and strokes your back. You mumble something in your sleep while Bucky looks at you. Then he nods.

"Let's go to my house,” he says, and Steve stands up with you. Bucky swallows hard when he realizes Steve’s words, and when he sees you, his gaze softens.

“Want to carry her? Otherwise, I would do it,” Bucky offers. “It’s oke, but her bag,” Steve answers and points with his head to your bag. Bucky smiles lightly when he sees the bag. You have had that one since the two of you were little kids. Then he throws it over his shoulder and walks next to Steve.

They don’t talk, but Bucky looks almost every second at you, making sure Steve holds you and because he just wants to see you. “Stevie?” You mumble, and Bucky's heart races when he hears your sleepy voice. He adores the one, at least as much as your voice in general. He missed hearing you talk, but he wouldn’t admit it; otherwise, he would feel the same as he did when you moved away.

“I have you, princess,” he mumbles, but Bucky hears it. And he wants to hit Steve right in the face when he calls you ‘princess’ but he knows he has no right to do it.

“Are we at home?” You ask, but Steve shakes his head.

“No, James is here, and we go to his house now,” he tells you, and you nod while you feel the tears again.

You let your best friend carry you to your second home, or it was your second home when you and Bucky were kids, but now you’re not sure about it anymore. “My mom is home,” Bucky says, and you feel a warmth running through his body when you hear his suddenly soft voice.

When he opens the door, the three of you walk inside, and Steve lets you down. “You can go into the living room; I just need to call someone that I have no time for parties right now,” he explains, and you nod while you walk into the living room. Steve follows you. You still know everything in that house, and it feels like nothing has changed except for a scratching tree in the corner of the room and a white fur ball lying on the couch.

“Alpine,” you say softly, and the little white cat lifts her head to look at you. She has steel blue eyes, the same as Bucky's, and she looks exactly like the cat Bucky got on his birthday when he turned eight.

With a few steps, you reach the couch and hold your hand in front of the cat. Alpine sniffs at your hand before she leans against it and lets you scratch her ear. "You are such a sweet little fur ball,” you coo. You turn your head to Steve and point with your head next to you on the couch.

“You can sit here. What did you say that he is so nice now?” You ask, and Steve chuckles lightly. "I told him the truth about your feelings, but I also told him that there are a lot of boys who would treat you like the princess you are,” he explains, and you smile at him.

When you hear footsteps behind you, you turn around and see the face of Bucky’s mother looking at you. “Y/n, I haven’t seen you in a while. You’re such a grown and beautiful young lady now,” she says with a huge smile on her lips, and you nod before you stand up and almost run into her arms for a much-needed hug.

“I missed you so much,” you whisper, and she agrees before she lets go and looks at you again.

“I was sure you would be a gorgeous young lady, and you are,” she whispers and then looks at Steve.

“Hello, I’m Steve,” he greets the woman, and she nods before she walks closer to him and hugs him as well.

“James is in his room?” She asks.

“He wanted to call someone because of a party." You shrug and sit down next to Steve. Bucky’s mother takes a seat on the armchair across from you.

“I’m so glad you’re here, that the two of you are here. When you moved away, Bucky wasn’t the same anymore. In the first time, he tried to be as much as he was, but with every day, he turned more into an idiot. I haven’t seen him crying like that when you moved away, and I guess he changed into the one he is to avoid his feelings,” his mom says and sighs quietly.

“I try to talk to him; I miss my little Buck, the one who wanted to marry me when we were young, and we didn't want to wait any longer there,” you chuckle. Steve listens to you and smiles lightly when he sees your chuckle.

Just a few moments later, the brown-haired boy walks downstairs again and comes into the living room. He doesn’t say anything when he takes a seat next to you, so you sit between your two favorite boys. He clears his throat, but then he is quiet again.

“Steve, I’m sure you heard a lot of stories about them; do you want to see the pictures of them? There are some really funny ones; I’m sure you will like them,” Bucky’s mother says and stands up. Steve nods with a wide and mischievous smile.

“Love ya, princess,” he whispers into your ear.

“Love ya too,” you say before he follows the woman out of the room.

Then you’re alone with Bucky, his jaw clenching, and he rubs his sweating hands in his pants. You look at him and see how nervous he is; he isn’t looking at you. “Buck, listen, oke,” you start, but before you can continue, you see tears streaming down his cheeks, and you interrupt yourself.

Suddenly, he stands up before kneeling in front of you, his hands on your thighs as well as his head. You place one of your hands on top of his head and run your fingers through his soft, brown hair. “I’m sorry, I love you,” he whispers against the fabric of your pants. You scratch his head softly and wait until he looks up at you.

After a moment, he lifts his head, and your eyes meet. His tears are wet, and his eyes are red when you wipe his tears away. He breathes deeply and then opens his mouth to say something, but before he can, you can see the tears streaming down his cheeks again. “It’s ok,” you mumble, and you glide your fingers through his hair.

“I’m sorry; I didn’t want to hurt you, never. I love you so much, but when you moved away-“ he starts, sobbing before he continues to speak. “Everything was so empty, and no matter where I was, we were there together. I missed you so much that I wasn't able to leave my room for weeks. And even so, there is everything that reminds me of you. I’m sorry for being an idiot; I wanted to think about nothing for a few minutes, but I haven’t thought about you then,” he whispers between even more sobs. He let his head fall down on your thighs again.

“You really were an idiot,” you chuckle, and you capture Bucky’s face with your hands so he needs to look at you. “But you’re my idiot,” you mumble before you lean forward and kiss him softly. You're not sure if it’s what he wants, but as soon as your lips meet, he wraps his arms around your waist and presses you closer. You feel the love and happiness, as well as the butterflies in your stomach, when his lips meet yours and his adorable blue eyes look lovely into yours.

“Do you still want to marry me? We can do it; now we are older and can marry,” he whispers against your lips, and you nod.

“I definitely want to, Buck,” you mumble. He smiles at you when you continue talking. “But no other girls anymore, and don’t be jealous about Stevie; he is nice,” you say, laughing, and Bucky nods with a smile before he kisses your forehead.

“No other girls and not jealous of Steve,” he chuckles, and it’s like his mother and your best friend heard you because they walk back into the room and see the two of you smiling at each other.

“Do you want some cake as well?” The woman asks, and you immediately look up at her with a wide smile. “What kind of cake?” You ask, and Bucky laughs when he sees your eyes brighten. “Your favorite,” Bucky whispers into your ear, and you push him back to jump to the kitchen.

"Cake, I’m coming,” you say, and the three others look at you while they burst out laughing before they follow you. When you reach the kitchen, you see the big cake on the table, but before you are there to steal it, you feel two strong arms around your waist and pressing against a body. “Do you like Alpine? She looks like my stuffed animal; do you still know it?” He asks, and you nod while you try to reach the table with the cake.

“Do you want me to bring you the cake?” Steve asks with a laugh, and you look at him with your best puppy eyes. "Yes, please,” you say, and he takes the cake but walks away from you, and you hear the two boys laughing. “You’re mean,” you mumble. Bucky kisses your neck, and you feel goosebumps all over your body.

“You’re the most wonderful girl, and I love you, my doll,” Bucky whispers into your ear, and you smile widely. “I love you too, Buck, but now give me some cake,” you say, smiling, and he shakes his head, looking at you with adoration and love in his eyes while Steve comes back with cake and places it back on the table.

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[heiayen]

this looks like us! gn!reader x various (kaveh, wanderer, zhongli, childe, kazuha, lyney, venti.)

summary: what things do they match with you? keychains, jewelry, clothing? let's take a look!

tags: implied modern au, around 80-100 words per character, just very short headcanons <3 could be ooc because it's my first time writing in a moment, not proofread that much

notes: ehhhh trying to get back into writing with short silly hcs... hello everyone. grand heia comeback 90% will make second part with more characters !!

Kaveh is the kind of person to have matching keychains with you! He has already got a keychain for his keys, a proud lion guarding the keys... that he manages to lose often anyway, so why not get another one? This time matching yours, and instead of attaching it to his keys (because gods forbid he loses them and the keychain!), he attaches it to his bag. And let me tell you, it does not end on a single keychain!

Most of the time, you don't even know that you are matching anything with Wanderer, seriously. If you ask him to get something matching together then, yes, he will agree, although begrudgingly, but also so often he will buy you something (while telling you to not make a big deal out of it, you're his partner, yes, yes, move on), and a few days later you will notice him having a matching pair of that thing. You never call him out for that, just smile to yourself.

As the gentleman he is, Zhongli is the man to give you matching rings or necklaces, all selected by him with utmost care. Every piece he gets for you two is one of the best quality, and he makes sure it fits your preferences, so don't worry if you wear only one kind of metal! He always pays attention to any stones in your jewelry, to ensure they are the best quality available. And sometimes, you find it so hard to bite down the urge to show off your new ring or necklace to all your friends, saying that yes, it's your partner who got it for you.

Childe is the person to see something that reminds him of you two, and get it, no hesitation. A pair of funny socks (with an animal that reminds him of you), keychains (that teddy bear was similar to you)... a scarf in the same pattern as his, because you need to be dressed well during winter, he doesn't want you to get sick– did he just point at those two chestnuts and said that it reminded him of you two? You don't see it, but whatever makes him happy!

Kazuha makes handmade yarn bracelets for you two, and he's quite skilled at it! He always picks your favorite colors, sometimes with matching pedants and pretty patterns, and you never know that he's making one, usually during late night hours, with the lamp's light as his companion, when sleep doesn't want to arrive. You got a few of them already but will happily accept every next one he makes, proudly wearing them on your wrists. It's always a lovely sight, to look at your joined hands adored by the bracelets he makes. Maybe you should learn how to make them too…?

With Lyney, you will more than often find yourself matching outfits... or at least pieces of it, if you can't wear a fully coordinated outfit. A matching shirt? Sure, that sounds great! You two can get some funny print together on it– or not funny, just a normal print. You two can also dress in a similar style if you don't have anything to match, or even match socks out of all things. Additionally, if you enjoy painting your nails... Lyney would happily paint his nails with a polish matching your eyes, and would gladly help you find one matching his, so that you two can match your nails!

Venti, on the other hand, likes to match... yes, hair clips with you. He got a bunch of them at home, all different. Ones with small flowers or stars, animals even, in so many colors and shapes– the point is, he's got them a lot, and he will happily lend you them so you two can have matching hairclips in your hair. He will also happily buy a pair if he sees one and likes it, and give you one of them. Soon, you will have an entire box of hair clips...

[alotofrandomfangirling]

Dating Roronoa Zoro would include (liveaction!Zoro x female!reader headcanons)

Tw: slight cursing, a bit suggestive towards the end, mentions of sword fighting

A/n: okay so i decided to give it a try myself lol this is completely based off the live action (i haven't watched the anime nor read the manga). I hope you like it, i'm so in love with our green haired baby 🥰 also forgive me for any mistakes, english is not my first language 🙏🏻

• First things first,we gotta make it clear: Zoro acts tough and all but deep down he is a big softie akslajskak

• The thing is, because of his past, he isn't very used to being treated kindly

• So when he found you it was like his world completely changed

• He cherished every little act of care you did for him

• He loooved when you ran your fingers through his hair

• He would close his eyes and enjoy it with a small smile on his lips

• Or when you caressed the back of his neck when you kissed him

• It drove him crazyyy

• He loved these little delicate touches that made his heart do a backflip

• And how about when you grabbed his face, looked deep into his eyes and kissed the tip of his nose?

• Boy would blush like hell

• "You're so cute when you blush" - you'd tease him with another kiss on the cheek

• "No, i'm not" - he said frowning and trying to brush that off, which only made you giggle and kiss him again

• You would always make sure to let him know how much you loved him

• And even though he wasn't the best in expressing his feelings, you could feel how grateful he was for that

• He would always look at you with the most passionate eyes and that's when you knew he loved you just as much

• And he would show it too

• Hell he would do anything for you

• Once he made Sanji prepare a whole feast for you (with him helping ajdkajskaj) because you accidentally let slip you missed food from home

• Or that time he secretly bought you a cute bracelet he saw you staring at when you stopped by at a village

• That's how much he loved you and wanted to make you happy

• And the straw hats would always tease you guys about it

• Except poor Luffy who didn't understand anything that was going on lol

• But he saw how happy you both were and, if his crew was happy, he was happy too

• Now Zoro wasn't much of PDA

• But he made sure to show everyone you belonged to each other

• He would usually put his arm around your waist or around your shoulders

• (When he did the latter one, you liked to intertwine your fingers with his which he thought was super cute ajskajskja)

• You on the other hand liked to hook your arm with his when he had his hand in his pocket

• Let's be honest you loved feeling the strong muscles of his arms

• Yeah, his physique was something you admired a lot

• You loved to watch him practice his sword fighting

• The way his strong arms moved

• That pretty face he did when he was concentrated

• The way his fingers moved on the sword

• Him all sweaty...

• okay let's stop over there

• He noticed you watching and one day he had a brilliant idea (or so he thought)

• You were a very skilled fighter, but you had never tried fighting with a weapon

• So he decided to teach you how to fight with his swords

• Ngl it was tough

• But you were very decided to try your best

• But actually the best part turned out to be being extra close to him

• "Hey, you have to position your arms like this" - he said as he gently lift your arms with a touch so soft it gave you butterflies

• He stood behind you as he helped you correctly hold the sword, putting his hands in yours (yeah like a big cliche move lol)

• He was so close you could feel his breath on the back of your neck

• Which only made you even more distracted and had you get the move wrong again

• "Zoro, love, let's be honest, i can't do it. You are the greatest swordsman i know and i'll never be any close to that, so let's just give up" - you said, frustrated

• "What? No. (Y/N), you are the most determined and dedicated person i've ever known and i'm sure you can do anything you want" - he said, holding your hand and looking at you lovingly - "just... try it one more time. For me?" - he said with puppy eyes and you couldn't say no to the man you loved so much

• You grabbed the sword again and to your surprised you nailed the movement

• "I did it! Oh my gosh, Zoro, i did it!" - you said smiling from ear to ear

• He was as surprised and happy as you, with that pretty smile he didn't show often but that you loved so much

• He grabbed you and spun you around as you both laughed

• "I knew you could do it" - he said as he put you on the ground again - "i'm so proud of my girl" - he kissed your cheek

• And now it was your time to blush as he ruffled your hair

• (Needless to say, Usopp and Sanji were watching the whole thing and started making fun of you two, which only made you blush even harder lmaooo)

• Okay so we all know and love his deep voice, right?

• Now imagine his morning voice 💀

• After spending a ahem very good night together you'd wake up next to each other in the morning

• "Morning, Zoro" - you'd say still sleepy

• "Morning, babe. D'you sleep well?" - he asked in that deep, raspy voice that gave you all the butterflies

• Damnnnn

• You'd get weak in the knees all over again lmao

• And that could lead to something else 👀

• But that's a whole another story ajdkajskaj

• And speaking of his voice

• He wasn't much of talking, but he slowly started opening up to you

• Sharing his thoughts, fears and stories from his past

• You saw through him and broke down his walls, so he felt 100% comfortable around you

• You'd lay down together and talk about everything

• That was such a special and intimate moment for you

• You loved being there with him, taking in his scent and listening to his voice while he traced circles down your back

• He would tell you stories about Kuina and the promise he made

• You swear you had never seen him that vulnerable

• But you were glad he felt safe enough to share that with you

• In the end you just hugged and reassured him

• "I know you will keep your promise, and i'll be here supporting you until the end" - you said, gently cupping his cheek

• "Thank you, (Y/N)" - he said softly, and you could see the warmth in his eyes - "now i have another reason to believe i can make it"

• "What is it?" - you asked, a bit confused

• "Having you by my side" - he said in his low voice, laying down and closing his eyes

• Your heart fluttered at that 😭

• "It's my pleasure, Roronoa Zoro" - you said smiling and cuddling him as you both fell asleep <3

[boydepartment]

it’s cold in here - nishimura riki x gn! reader

you and your annoying coworker at the bakery get accidentally locked in the freezer | masterlist | wc - 350 | part 2

nishimura riki was the worst fucking coworker on the planet. he would finish frosting the cake but then not tell you he was done with it. so he would put the cake in the chiller and not tell you it was done, so you would get behind in decorating the cakes and then that would put the orders behind.

the worst part is he would PURPOSELY put you behind so you looked bad. especially to your sweet manager whom you never wanted to disappoint…

but you weren’t any better, you would point out to your manager the mistakes in riki’s frosting job on the different cakes.

today was a slow day and you weren’t doing anything at work, the bakers went home so it was just you, riki, and two other workers who work the front. your manager was out doing deliveries. you grabbed one of the tickets and went to the freezer, you saw the cake was due in an hour and it still wasn’t frosted.

sighing, you walked up to riki, “hey have you frosted this cake?”

riki looked up from his phone, “yes it’s in there. i’m frosting cupcakes right now. leave me be.” riki quite literally waved you off and you stood there in shock

“no it’s not.” you stood there irritated

the tall man looked at you and scoffed, “it literally is. now leave me alone.”

you looked at him, “no the fuck it’s not. now stop making my fucking life harder and show me where it is then.”

riki’s eye twitched and he walked to the freezer and you followed him. he had on large jackets, he was in the freezer a lot getting cakes back and forth.

you stood by the cake rack with him with your arms crossed.

“see it’s not fucking here.”

riki kept looking around and looked genuinely confused, “i swear i did it…”

“i don’t know maybe one of the girls in the front took it.” you took a deep breath, you saw the breath that left you. it was freezing.

“yeah what the fuck ever. i’ll just do another one.” he turned to the other cakes and grabbed an unfrosted one. you mumbled a thank you and turned to leave the freezer.

but the door wouldn’t open…

you blinked and tried to push the door open again…

riki stood behind you and scoffed, “you’ve opened this door a million times- move.”

he gently moved you out of the way and tried to open it, but the door wouldn’t open.

you started to panic and he looked at you, “y/n do not cry in here you need to trust me it’s going to hurt.”

you looked at him your eyes glossing over QUICK. he set the wrapped unfrosted cake down and used his sleeves to cover your eyes. he spoke like he knew you shouldn’t cry in here.

“if you cry in here the contrast from your higher temperature tears might hurt with the cold.” riki spoke, he didn’t sound irritated at you for once.

“we’re gonna die in here! there’s so much i wanted to do, i wanted to travel and get married and have a ton of animals, maybe even get a masters degree and-“

“well you’re doing great with that by working a part time less than minimum wage job.” he spoke very unamused, you smacked his hands away.

“why do you hate me so much!?”

he sighed and took out his phone, he tried to call your manager, jihyo, and she wouldn’t answer.

“do you have the girls who work the fronts number?” he leaned against the side of the wall then immediately stopped because it was too cold.

“no i don’t they just got hired and they’re like 2-3 years younger than me and you.” you deadpanned and looked away shivering. riki sighed loudly and the next thing you knew his jacket was wrapped around you. your head whipped to him.

“wh-“

“don’t.” he put his hand up, “and i don’t hate you. you’re just annoying.”

you looked at him and sighed, opening your phone to text your manager. explaining the situation. riki walked to the over side and took a couple of boxes with baking material in them and sat down. you begrudgingly sat down next to him.

“you can scoot closer to me.” he mumbled, you listened, you were freezing cold so you went right next to him, “i’m more used to being in here than you.” riki said and took a deep breath.

“shouldn’t we be moving around to keep your bodies warm?”

he looked at you funny, “what the fuck are you going to do? jumping jacks? absolutely not you’re going to slip and fall on your ass. then you’re out for a week or two and we lose our best- our decent decorator.”

you looked at him, “best decorator…?” your lips curled into a slight smile.

“whatever. i don’t know how you do it or make those stupid decorations so i have to applaud you..” he mumbled and nudged you.

the freezer fans stopped and it was silent, only cracks from the cold. your breaths being able to be heard just as well as being visible.

“im sorry for not telling you when i’m done frosting.” riki spoke, “it’s stupid and i did it for a stupid reason.”

you looked at him, “yeah i’d get behind and it makes me look bad and keeps me running back and forth and-“

“i just wanted you to talk to me more.” he said and looked at you. his cheeks dusted pink from the cold.

“what..?” you asked and looked confused, you huddled more into his jacket

he took a deep breath and lolled his head back, “i just wanted you to come to the back of house more and talk to me.”

your jaw dropped slightly, “i do go back-“

“yeah you talk to chris.” riki mumbled, “baker bahng.”

“i didn’t think you wanted to talk to me…” you frowned and looked down at your hands, “i get scared to make friends sometimes. and you didn’t look like you liked me..”

“i know, i’ve heard you talking to jihyo about it.” riki said, “i overheard you…”

your eyes went down to your hands, “i’m sorry if i wasn’t welcoming when you got hired.. your first day was a holiday and i was stressed.”

“it’s fine… i didn’t make it any better…”

it was awkward in the freezer after that, you both sat in silence and it didn’t help the fans were on. you got up and tried to knock on the door for someone to let you out.

“i’m sorry if i weirded you out…” riki stood up and walked by you.

you looked up at him and he put the hood over your head, your heart beat sped up a little and your eyes went to the freezer window again, “you didn’t.. i’m glad you told me and we can start over..”

riki nodded and repeated you, “start over.. yeah.. actually no..”

you felt your heart stop. you thought he now truly hated you.

“i don’t want to start over, because i fucked up and it was my fault. i wanted to be your friend and close to you and i thought you wanted nothing to do with me and so i thought you were entitled,” riki took a deep breath, “it was stupid and i’m sorry.”

“you can still be my friend..” you mumbled and looked at him, he really was good looking…

riki looked down at you, his eyes boring into yours, then he started scanning your face, “could i be more?”

a split second later jihyo came in rushing, she apologized to you both and just like nothing

you both went back to work…

[tallulah477]

Too Much

Pairing: Neteyam x Fem!Human!Reader

Warnings: AgedUp!Neteyam, Oral (female receiving), Kuru/Queue Play, Overstimulation, Multiple Orgasms, Cumming Untouched

Word Count: 2K

A/N: I wrote this entire thing today and I'm a little delirious right now so if you see mistakes - no you don't

Summary: Neteyam licks your pussy while you lick his kuru

Translations:

Kuru/Neural Queue - Used to bond with animals and other Na'vi

Yawne - Beloved

Tewng - Loincloth

Neteyam’s golden eyes are dazed and hooded as he gazes up at you from his spot between your thighs. His pupils are blown wide, so large they practically swallow up the entire iris, leaving just a thin ring of yellow around the edges. If you look hard enough, you can see your own reflection mirrored in them - mouth open and gasping for air, hands tangled in your hair just to have something to hold onto as Neteyam devours your puffy pussy like his most favorite meal. 

His face is wet as he presses harder against you, mouth and chin glistening in the sunlight from where your wetness coats them. His flat nose bumps your clit as his tongue presses deeper inside of you, your soaked hole clenching around his invading tongue. He moans at the feel of you tightening around him, hot breath fanning over your pussy as he licks you deeper.

He looks drunk already, drunk on you and the taste of your juices on his taste buds. His ears flick at each and every moan and shaky sigh that escapes your lips, intent on catching them all as he eats you out, eager to earn more of your pretty noises. He’s made you cum on his tongue once already, back arching and crying loudly, your shouts of pleasure echoing through the little meadow he has you spread out in as he growled into your cunt. 

When you came down from your high, he didn’t stop. His dark honey eyes narrowed at you, as if daring you to try to move away from him as his hands readjusted their grip on your thighs. Your legs shook in his grip as he redoubled his efforts, spitting and sucking on your sensitive pussy like you had somehow deprived him of it for years instead of him going on a three day long hunting trip away from you. 

Your squeals of overstimulation quickly turned back into wanton moans of pleasure as he worked you back up towards that point of bliss. 

His tongue pulls from inside you, licking greedily up your puffy slit before wrapping his lips around your swollen clit. Your back arches against the moss underneath you as he sucks on the aching bud, a high pitched whine tearing from your throat as one of your hands untangles from your hair and clutches at the back of his head. 

Your legs spasm in his hold, thighs clenching around his head as your second orgasm shatters through you. You cry as your pussy clenches around nothing, the need to be filled up by Neteyam’s thick cock overwhelming as tears of pleasure drip from your eyes and cling to your lashes. You want him to fuck you so badly, want to feel him inside you, pounding your cunt and bruising your cervix with his powerful thrusts until your too dumb and cockdrunk to even remember your own name. 

But he won’t. He’s so mean, leaving you for days, all alone without your mate to fill you up like you deserve. And then he comes home, gorgeous and loving and desperate for you, and he still won’t give it to you. 

And he’s not done with you either. 

He works you through the end of your orgasm - plush, sinful lips letting go of your still pulsing clit in favor of pressing gentle kisses to the inside of your thigh. He allows you a moment of respite this time, letting you try to regain your breath, sucking in as much air into your lungs as you can from what the oxygen tubes in your nose provide. But he’s still holding your thighs open, fingers gripping into the delicate flesh as his kisses along your skin get more heated. 

“You can give me another one, won’t you?” He mumbles, voice raspy and deep with a need he still hasn’t quenched. Your hole clenches again from the sound of it despite itself. 

“Teyam,” You whimper, your hand on his head trying in vain to keep his wandering kisses away from your oversensitive core. “T-too much. Can’t,”

“Yes, you can,” He says, pressing a feather light kiss to your clit. “Just one more. I swear.”

He dives back in again, soaked face suffocating itself as he presses tightly against your center. His tongue laves over your sticky cunt, pressing flat as he licks up your abused slit. Your eyes squeeze shut as his rough tongue swipes against your raw clit, shocks of a glorious combination of pleasure and pain shooting up your spine and frying your brain as you cry out underneath him. 

Your hand claws at the back of his head, torn between wanting to shove his head away and keeping it pressed against your core as he drowns himself in your juices. Your hand pushes through his hair, the smaller braids moving and caressing against your smaller fingers as they subconsciously find the thick braid at the back of his skull. Your fingers wrap around the braid as best as they can, gripping onto the base of his kuru, using your hold on the most intimate part of him as leverage as your body decides to keep him where he is. 

Neteyam groans against your clit when you accidentally squeeze tighter, hand closing around the neural queue with a vice-like grip. It’s so much louder than normal, the guttural groan echoing through the meadow. Your head snaps up, hand immediately loosening its hold on the braid, worried that you’ve hurt him. 

“Shit, Tayem. Are you–”

But he whines at the loss of contact, one of his hands untangling itself from its grip on your thigh to grab yours and replace it back at the base of his kuru. 

Your fingers wrap around it again, giving another experimental squeeze and watching as Neteyam grunts, eyes fluttering shut at the pressure, and wrapping his lips around your clit again, sucking harshly in retaliation. The suction on your aching clit makes you squeeze tighter, twin whines of pain mixed with pleasure echoing from both of your mouths at the rough treatment on your sensitive parts. 

Your legs tremble, hips bucking into Neteyam’s mouth as he uses his iron grip on your thighs to keep your hips pressed against the moss covered ground. To distract yourself from Neteyam’s torture on your cunt, your fingers trail down the length of his kuru, gentle fingers stroking the glossy hair braided around the queue as you pull it over his shoulder. 

Neteyam purrs and the vibrations on your cunt only serve to make you wetter. You can feel yourself dripping down your asscheeks - strings of your own wetness, cum, and Neteyam’s spit curving over your bottom and dripping onto the forest floor beneath you. Movement from Neteyam’s lower half catches your attention as his hips hump slowly against the ground. His golden eyes glare up at you, flicking between your own and the image of his most sacred body part held vulnerable in your hand. His mouth is full, and he doesn’t seem to be willing to part with your drenched core for even a second to say what he’s thinking, but he doesn’t have to - his eyes say it all, daring you to do what you’ve always wanted. 

Play with me, yawne. Do it. 

Your breathing is shaky as you slide your hand down to the tip, fingers curling around the thinner end of his kuru before twisting your wrist and encouraging the tips of his hair to fall apart, exposing the glowing pink tendrils that are housed inside. Neteyam’s tongue swipes frantically up and down along your slit, a testament to how restless he is as he watches you examine the exposed bits of his nervous system. 

The tendrils writhe under your gaze, just as restless and excited as their owner as they wriggle around helplessly in your grip. They seem like they’re reaching for you, twisting and leaning towards you as far as they can stretch. You’ve always wanted to touch them, wanted to feel what they would feel like on your fingers. They would wrap around you so tight, but at the same time so delicate, just like they twine around each other when Neteyam bonds with the Spirit Tree.

Your free hand reaches up, fingers just a breath away from finally touching those pink tendrils. They reach back for you, stretching towards your outstretched fingers, desperate for something to bond with. Neteyam stops his assault on your cunt, heavy breath fanning over you as he stares up at you in awe, waiting with bated breath for the moment your tiny fingers make contact with them. 

But the look on his face has you feral, and the thought that he’s tormented you with this tongue all afternoon has you dropping your hand away from the pink, wiggly tendrils and replacing them with your tongue instead. Neteyam cries out at the first touch of your tongue, eyes rolling back into his head as his upper body shoots up, one of his hands slamming against the ground as full bodied shivers wrack his body. The tendrils feel electric on your tongue, writhing and frantic as you slowly drag your tongue over them. They try to grip onto the wet muscle, but they can’t find purchase as it glides against them. They slide off your tongue when you reach the tips, squirming in the air before you bring them to your tongue again, loving the way they try to attach to you but can do nothing but twitch and wiggle under your devious torment. 

Neteyam collapses back into the cradle of your thighs, momentarily forgetting about your cunt as his head rolls to the side, eyes squeezing shut as he digs his face into the inside of your thigh, whimpering like he’s being tortured. Good, you think, grinning as you continue to tongue at the sensitive nerves. Payback’s a bitch. 

But as soon as the thought materializes, his mouth is back on you again, hot and insistent on your clit as he glares up at you again like he can hear what you’re thinking. He shakes his face against your pussy, animalistic growls vibrating into your cunt as his fingers dig into the fat of your hips. You squeal, moaning loudly against the tendrils sitting on your tongue and Neteyam lets out a low whine, hips once again humping into the ground underneath him, faster and more desperate as he grinds his aching cock against the moss. You’ve never seen his eyes so hazy before. Somehow he’s with you - here, in this moment - and also someplace far away at the exact same time. He licks your clit with a renewed vigor, pleasure shooting through your body with each perfect swipe of his tongue, and you make sure to reward each and every one of his licks with a lick of your own against his tendrils. 

Another orgasm rushes towards you, relentless and damning as the coil in your belly tightens past the point of no return. It threatens to tear you apart when it hits, washing over you in a mixture of overstimulation and pure bliss, and you cum on Neteyam’s tongue for the third time today - shaking and moaning with the tendrils still wrapping eagerly around your tongue. 

When you come back to yourself, Neteyam is climbing over you, still panting as he holds himself up with one arm. He gently grabs the top of his kuru with one hand, fingers curling around your smaller ones where the braid stops before the visible nerves peek out. With a deep shaky breath, he pulls his kuru back, slowly dragging the glowing tendrils from their found happy place along your tongue. They separate, held only together by a thin strand of saliva before that breaks away too, and you can feel yourself mourn the loss already. 

“You’re a bad girl, yawne,” He says, cupping your cheek tenderly. “Abusing something so sacred like that.”

“And you’re a bad boy,” You reply, smirking as your eyes fall to the large wet patch now visible in his loincloth. “Good boys don’t cum in their tewngs untouched like that.”

Neteyam hums, leaning down to nip playfully at your chin. “You definitely touched me, that’s for sure,”

You giggle, a teasing hand gently caressing the painstakingly braided cord still handing over his shoulder. “Can I touch it again?”

Neteyam’s smile is blinding as he leans down to kiss you.

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