#and dream me was none the wiser

[crystal-lillies]

I had a very strange sort of dream last night that the details are getting fuzzy but it involved being in this sprawling hotel/event/educational campus space with a class group of some kind, and for a stretch we were staying there so we had to pack stuff in a moving truck but a small number of us had our stuff put into a different moving truck, and another point in the dream we all had to take this impromptu standardized test.

But the standout part of the dream for me was that in the classroom area where we took the test, for some reason out of nowhere, Taliesin Jaffe was just sitting there, hanging out, as I was explaining the latest episode of the Bells Hells campaign (iirc) to someone. And I knew it was him immediately, but, not thinking, I blurted out asked him if he was caught up on the campaign. And he just smiled as I quickly backpedaled and said "oh of course you are you're in it!" And then I thanked him for Ashton and all his other characters and hugged him and he hugged back and said something like "you're very welcome/my pleasure" and not long after that he was just gone again while the dream continued on.

So I think I just had summoned eldritch dream being Taliesin by dreaming of talking about Critical Role 🤣

[gh0stsp1d3r]

don’t waste a drop

warnings: canon typical Targaryen incest (brother- younger sister), breeding kink, no plot only smut,

A/n: someone match my freak pls… also writing incest is new to me, LMFAOO. Step-cest i can do, incest… a bit tricker. not too sure if i used the high Valyrian right but whatevs idc atp

MASTERLIST

He pinned your wrists over your head, looking down at you, his curly hair fallen over his face with the noises falling out of your mouth egging him on.

His hands then went to intertwine with yours, a soft smile appearing on your face at the intimacy of it all, a stark contrast to his hard and deep thrusts. He found himself looking down where you both were connected. One hand left yours and moved down, his hand going to your clit.

He rubbed on the button, his fingers knowing exactly how to make you cum. And with your mother none the wiser about the relationship, he slapped his hand over your mouth when you threatened to cry out his name. He leaned down, whispering.

“I know, hāedar, know.” He mumbled, his soothing voice having you clench down onto his length. “Cum for me.”

That was all the conformation you needed for that pressure in your stomach to release, your juices soaking his cock. He let out a low groan, his head lolling back as he began to paint your walls, you feeling his hot seed shoot inside you.

You both panted, his cock softening when he pulled back out. He watched his seed slowly leave your hole. He gathered all of it on his hand, shoving a finger into you, making you gasp at the sudden, unexpected intrusion from your brother.

“Don’t waste a drop, okay?” He murmured in your ear, you whining and nodding against his shoulder. You wouldn’t dream of it.

hāedar- younger/little sister

[lovings4turn]

funny blurb where lando talks in his sleep. idk i just thought of it once and it sounded funny to me (bonus if the reader records him and shows him the next morning)

ᯓ★ 𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐬𝐥𝐞𝐞𝐩 (𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐬)

ohhh nonnie darling i love the way your mind works i truly do 🤭🤭

"you're a liar."

"am not!" you protest with a laugh. "i swear, you were having a full on conversation with yourself, lando. it was honestly pretty entertaining, if you ask me."

"i do not sleep talk!"

the discussion has been going on for ten minutes now.

lando is adamant that he doesn't sleep talk, never has and never will, thank you very much. you, on the other hand, are sure you've bore witness to it, his last offence occurring just last night.

"lando, i heard you. i don't know what you were dreaming about, but you wouldn't shut up."

"what were you even doing awake?" lando counters with a raised brow, as though he's having some sort of 'gotcha' moment. "think the sleep deprivation's messing with your head, baby."

a dramatic gasp tears from your throat, and you shoot him an incredulous look.

"fine. next time, i'm recording it. i'd like to see you try and deny it then."

funnily enough, 'next time' rolls around quicker than you expect. because that very night, you're woken by faint mumbles coming from the sleeping man next to you, his thick brows furrowed as incoherent words spill from his lips.

you hold back laughter as you lazily fumble around for your phone, squinting as the bright light of the screen hits your bleary eyes. once you finally regain sight, you begin to record lando, glad that the camera was unable to pick up your endeared expression.

what he's actually saying, you're none the wiser. you manage to pick out a few words, your name sprinkled amongst more mundane murmurs of 'tv remote' and 'fucking freezing'. as if to emphasise his point, the sleeping lando rolls over, taking the better half of your duvet with him.

you're glad you have concrete evidence of this, because you know when accused lando will deny everything vehemently. you always knew he was a blanket hogger, and now, you've caught him redhanded in not one, but two crimes.

lando can talk for england, but there's no way he's getting himself out of this one.

when he wakes up to your phone in his face the next morning, only barely able to make out his own sleeping frame, he groans in defeat and pulls the blanket up over his head.

"oh christ, take the smug look off of your face, babe. don't wanna kiss you when y'looking at me like that."

[buckysgrace]

You’re Billy’s girl and you’re back in his room after school and you’re kissing, he slides his hands under your skirt and feels you’re not wearing panties. He gets all mad outwardly, calling you a little slut and slapping your ass (what kind of girl goes to school with no panties on, huh), but really he’s getting so hard and flustered he can barely control himself. You’re totally his dream girl but he would never admit that to you.

This was yummy thank you very much hehehe, I hope you enjoy this!

Billy Hargrove x fem!reader

Warnings: Some spanking and degredation, unprotected sex

You were sprawled out on his bed, your face warm and electricity pulsing through your veins as Billy dragged his lips against yours. He tasted like mint and like the cigarette the both of you had just shared.

His strong palm lingered against the back of your knee, holding you in place as he gently stroked your skin. He moved his fingers up further, making goosebumps erupt from your skin as he began to flick his tongue against yours. You whimpered, melting against him as your kiss turned sloppy.

You enjoyed the sensation of his tongue against yours, how he flicked it against the tip of yours before he moved on to trace your teeth. There was no rhythm, just spit and urgency as he moved his hand underneath your skirt.

He dances his fingers up to your hip bone, tracing across your smooth flesh as his kiss became slower. You leaned forward, still craving the taste of his tongue as he came to a halt.

"What?" You asked him, your voice raw and lips swollen as you did your best not to whine. You could feel the desire between your legs, could feel the pleasure that was still simmering in your tummy.

"Fucking slut," He replied as he flipped your skirt over your hips, revealing your exposed skin to him. You chewed on your bottom lip, unable to stop your hips from moving as you stared at your slick cunt, "I thought you were a good girl?" He tsked, squeezing your ass cheek in his hand before he roughly smacked your skin.

You gasped, taken by surprise as the sound echoed in the room. A moan followed suit as he squeezed at your flesh again, his bottom lip captured between his teeth. His eyes were wide and hazy as he awaited your response.

"I am your good girl," You responded, knowing that at times you were anything but that. You dressed this way for a reason, liking the response that you gained from him, "What's wrong?" You mocked playfully, fluttering your eyelashes innocently like you were none the wiser.

"Really?" He scoffed as he smacked at your skin again, forcing you a little closer to him, "What kind of girl goes to school with no panties on?" He questioned, moving close enough that you could count the freckles on his nose.

"A bad one," You whimpered, unable to help yourself as he slowly dragged his fingers down to your wet folds. He touched you gently, teasingly before he pulled his hands away, "Billy, please."

"Please what?" He mocked, pouting his bottom lip out for extra effect as he pressed one of his fingers against your clit. You whimpered at the way your body jolted in response, pleasure shooting up your spine as you pressed forward.

"Fuck me," You spit out a second later, "I didn't wear them for you. I wanted to tease you." You cooed, gasping at the way he slowly began to roll his finger against your clit.

"Mhm," He flicked his tongue across his teeth before his lips grew into a smirk, "Just for me? You sure you're not being a little whore parading around like that?"

"No, no," You breathed out as you desperately took a hold of his bicep, "Never. I want you. Please. Wanna feel your cock." You moaned as you moved your palm over his tight jeans, pressing against the very obvious hard on.

He groaned at the sensation, twitching against you as his blue eyes grew darker. He watched you for a long moment, smirking before he pulled his hand away from your cunt.

You whined at the loss, beginning to form a plead on your tongue before he hastily pushed you back onto the bed. You fell flat, your skirt resting up over your waist as he kicked your legs apart.

You sat on your elbows, eagerly watching as he tugged his jeans off over his thick legs. You traced your eyes over his body, enjoying his strong muscles and golden skin.

Your eyes fell to his cock, drinking in how long and thick he was as he crawled up over your body. He pressed his thumb against your lips, tracing them softly as he positioned himself between your legs.

He wrapped his thick fingers around his girth, keeping his eyes locked on your features as you stared at the way he slowly stroked himself in his hand. He parted his lips, groaning loudly to tease you as you felt a fresh wave a desire spread through you.

"Billy, please," You whined in desperation as you rolled your hips forward, trying to feel something against your soaked cunt, "I need you so badly." You pleaded with him as you brought your eyes back up to his.

"Okay," He cooed as he rubbed his fat tip against your aching clit. You crooned at the sensation, desperately needing more of it, "I've got you, baby girl." He reassured you as he slowly and tantalizingly slid his cock inside of your fluttering walls.

You sighed in relief as your head hit the pillow, your mind fuzzy as your cunt stretched around his throbbing cock. You savored the way he curved, the ridges and how he fit inside of you perfectly. Like he was made for you.

He moved a hand to your hip, sliding the other one underneath your neck as he held you close to him. His lips brushed against yours, sharing a moan as he bottomed out inside of you.

Every time you took in a breath of air you swore that he slid in deeper and further. The pleasure was intense, shooting down to the tips of your toes and clear up to your foggy mind.

"This what you wanted, yeah?" He asked, groaning as he slowly pulled his hips back an inch or two before he thrusted deep inside of you again. You mewled at the sensation as your cunt fluttered around him, inviting him in even deeper, "You were just so desperate for my cock, weren't you?"

"Yes," You answered quickly, your lungs feeling tight as the weight of him began to press you into his mattress. You moaned as you moved your hands towards his bare hips, clinging to he dragged his cock in and out of your wet cunt, "Oh my God."

You moaned out in response, shutting your eyes tightly as the pleasure rushed through your body. His grip on your waist was tight as he moved you along the length of his cock. You breathed in deeply, feeling your toes curl in response.

"All my dumb baby had to do was ask," He mocked as he dragged his teeth against your bottom lip, nipping softly, "Woulda given it to you. You didn't have to be a little whore."

"M'sorry," You whimpered as the tip of his cock pressed against your bundle of nerves, making stars appear in your eyes, "Fuck, fuck." You chanted as you began to rock your hips up against him, desperate to feel more of him.

He groaned as he brushed his nose against yours, his breath hot against your lips as you continued to cling to his skin. You could feel your cunt clamping down around him, squeezing him in tighter as the muscles in your stomach clenched together tightly.

The sound of your skin meeting sent you over the edge, a loud cry leaving your mouth as you spasmed underneath his warm body. Your pleasure crashed over you, your clit throbbing as you came around him.

You gasped loudly as you continued to hold onto him, enjoying the way he was groaning into the crook of your neck. You felt your toes curling as soft moans fell from your lips.

You were leaking around his cock, soaking his bed as he continued to grind his cock deep inside of you. You pressed your hands roughly against his skin, savoring the feeling of him as his thrusts became more shallow.

"Jesus," He grunted as he rolled his head back, his blonde curls sticking to the nape of his neck, "You're such a good little slut for me. Fuck, fuck." He cursed, groaning loudly as he pressed himself deep inside of you.

You gasped, looking down at the way his cock was buried snug inside of your cunt. You shivered as his warm spunk filled you, painting your walls white. His lips fell open in bliss, his eyebrows furrowed together as sounds of pleasure fell from his tongue.

He stayed there for a moment, exhaling deeply as he brushed his nose against yours once again. You leaned forward, giggling as his lips pulled into a pretty grin.

"That was nice," He whispered softly, his eyes swimming with thoughtfulness as he stared at you. He paused, looking like he was going to say something else before he ultimately changed his mind, "Hope you got what you wanted. Brat."

[diejager]

@warenai gave me the juiciest idea.

Draw Cw: smut, porn, prostitution, P in V, creampie, jealousy, handjob, mating press, voyeurism, tell me if I missed any.

part 2

There was a silent understanding between the three of them after that whole fiasco, Ghost and Soap demanding answers from their captain on their own time. Ghost confronted Price in his office that night, body still hot and bothered from your live but wracked with cold sweat from finding out that Price was your third, highest donator. Price hadn’t expected him, neither did Price expect him to find out about his little secret, the thing he spent his money on, but when Soap stopped him outside of the base, he wasn’t surprised then. Ghost had told him about everything, how both he and Soap were members of your OnlyFans, devoted and loyal, only using the site to watch you.

Whether it bothered Gaz that they kept having silent conversations through side glances and open staring, he hadn’t voiced his confusion or curiosity, he stayed outside of this struggle to catch your attention. For all they knew, only the three of them knew you and enjoyed the content, spending their nights jerking off at your sweet voice and beautiful body dressed in all kinds of things. Gaz seemed none the wiser, acting as he usually did, smiling gently, taking care of his strict skin routine, trimming his moustache and caring for his favourite cap.

Yet, he seemed so energetic today, exhuming happiness and giddiness while the others looked dejected, shoulders slumped lower and sighing disappointedly. It was suspicious, for Gaz to act out of character, especially after your announcement of an anonymous winner of your draw, choosing at random one of your patrons to host a live with, letting them fuck you as they dreamed to. Unfortunately, you hadn’t told the public to protect the winner’s identity until the live, you would contact them directly for a day and time.

They seethed in silence, a storm of jealousy stewing in their guts while Gaz smiled and laughed to his phone, eyes glued to his screen and fingers tipping away as if he was in a rush to answer the person he was messaging. It went on like this for a while, a week before Gaz asked for a few days of leave, packing his rucksack with clothes and toiletries with the prettiest and newest clothes he had. Soap had teased him about leaving and dressing pretty for a date, that he’d been texting the girl who caught his heart for a wile now.

They forgot about Gaz after he left, happy for him and curious but not involving themselves into his business, until they got opened up your live after they got the notification about it starting in a few minutes. The watched you smile, wave at the camera, manicured nails gleaming under the soft, yellow light of a hotel room. You changed the location of stage, a comfortable looking hotel room with a queen bed and silken sheets. The highlight of this live - like every other - was you, dressed in a pretty, satin shirt fitting your dark navy teddy, the same shade under warm lights.

You sat on the bed, legs open and flashing the dark patch of your underwear, darkened with slick from earlier foreplay with your guest —the lucky bastard. You made the same introduction, a smile and wave, followed by welcoming them with your stage name, but this time, you reached out for someone off screen, fingers locking with a caramel one, thick fingers with calloused pads, the person who won the draw was lean but still muscular, his arms and thighs curved and abdomen hard. He wore a familiar mask —a skull painted balaclava.

“This is GazCan,” you pulled the man down to him hands and knees, pressing kisses against his gleaming chest, lips wandering up his throat and he’s masked cheek, “He won this year’s draw.”

They knew the balaclava, how could they not when they wore it before as a team, one singular squad fighting towards one goal — it was the Ghost team mask. This was no coincidence, it all fit in with their situation: Gaz had been overly enthusiastic and happy for a week, his sudden ask for days-worth leave and all the neatly folded clothes and skin care.

This winner was Gaz. They were watching Gaz finger you, pumping two of his fingers into your slick cunt, drooling over his palm for everyone to see and hear, the lewd and wet sound of his hand. They watched Gaz fuck you raw, folding you in half, knees to your ears and feet dangling over his shoulders as he snapped his hips, pounding you into the hotel bed and whispering filthy things into your ear. Your swollen folds puffing around his cock, hair trimmed and clean, veins bulging out as he drove in, were in full view of the camera, letting them watch how well Gaz was breeding you.

They boiled with jealousy, being forced to watch one of them feel you, taste you, fuck you. Gaz made you sign for them, mewls and keens rising high from how well he pleasured you, the pointed tip of his cock hitting your spongy cervix and veins rubbing against your g-spot. He was a mix of gentle sex and domination, keeping his hands on you and bending you to his liking, manhandling you to fit his wild fantasies and you liked it.

Despite seeing someone they knew fuck you, that didn’t stop them from coming, spreading their cum over their cock and jerking out the rest of it against their bed and desk. It drove them wild thinking that they could’ve been the one filling you up with their load rather than Gaz, his white jizz bubbling out of your twitching cunny and rolling down your perky rim.

“GazCan, is it, sergeant?” Price cock his brow, lip pursed and arms crossed, he looked so stern as he stared Gaz down.

“Captain,” Gaz smiled back, shamelessly comfortable with his date being shared in the briefing room, then he turned to Ghost, “Ghostie,” and to Soap, “SexiSoap, not exactly subtle.”

Part 4

Tag list: @warenai @sae1kie @yeoldedumbslut @tallmanlover @distracteddragoness @vxnilla-hxrddrugs @konigsblog @havoc973 @im-making-an-effort @cutiecusp @ladyof-themoon @yourdaydreamerfan

[drgnflyteabox]

Imagine you're a sheltered woman from New York in the 1850s. By the time you're a young lady both your parents are dead, so you have no choice but to leave your cushy little family home, get on a train and meet your only living relative. You're kind of useless, bookish and naive. You've never experienced anything but comfort. Your uncle tells you he doesn't want you around, but as a woman you can't do much on your own, and what could you do? You're as helpless as a lamb.

Your uncle betroths you to a man in Oregon, and ships you off to travel the oregon trail with all your treasure (jewelry, bonds, antiques, etc). The only thing is that he can't just send you on your own- you've only been in the real world the past few days to travel to him!!! You've been an anxious little hermit, and who's gonna carry your trunk full of romance books?

Your uncle hires security company 141 to escort you through the grueling journey, and you're none the wiser that company 141 doesn't exist, but outlaw gang Ghost team does...

Anyways I neeeeeeed more western and cowboy 141 and I've been playing rdr2 lately soo

This could work for any of the boys :')

Gaz who's just like your fairytale men. Kind, considerate, kisses your hand. He gives you a little extra bacon in the morning when you whine and picks wildflowers for you when he sees a pretty one (like you). You're defenseless against his charms.

Price who's...... the embodiment of your daddy issues. Spoiler? But you grew up so sheltered because your dad believed your family was cursed, and made you scared to be in the world. Price is so big and solid and comforting, older and bearlike... you definitely could call him daddy :')

Johnny who's got you flustered and blushing the entire way, even when you're miserable, when you're beyond travel weary. He's carefree about touch and space, and for someone who grew up locked in a single space for so long, you're like putty at the simplest touches from him

Simon's a wildcard. He wears a bandana, which makes everyone but the company nervous, and he's always riding off. You rarely see him, but you're mesmerized by his pale eyes and pale lashes, his scars and his story. He kind of hates you for how you don't seem to know like... anything. He let's the others care for you, counting the days until they can meet up with Kate and abandon you for dead with all your ma and pas jewelry and valuables and onto the next robbery... unless (0)o(0)

Also the guy you're meant to marry is graves LOL. Your family is deep in the railway industry and filthy rich and graves is buying up land and planting vineyards. Hes getting rich off of wine :') that's the story in my head

Plsss forgive me if this has already been written!!! I had a dream about it and I couldn't remember if it was something I'd read, or something I thought up. I looked around tumblr and ao3 for anything but couldn't find anything. Pleaseeeeee contact me if its your idea, I'm terrified of accidentally plagiarizing lol

[lavendermin]

Your Jing Yuan breeding kink hcs saved me, thank you, thank you (I too, want to be pampered and taken care of by Xianzhou Luofu's kind, handsome and strong general without having to think about paying taxes or rent)

Jing yuan breeding kink brainworms going crazy chewing on my brain cables to make me short circuit. ANON IM GOING INSANE. Just thinking about him again made me black out as I wrote this whole thing. It was supposed to be a simple short answer but well… here we are…

—

Jing Yuan, your sweet and delightful husband who discovers his breeding kink (perhaps even a pregnancy kink, the night is young and we’re all insane here). It starts off innocently and then slowly trickles into a little obsession— sexually repressed old man who is centuries old discovers kinks! Wow!

cw | smut, minors dni, breeding kink, pregnancy, just jing yuan discovering his nasty side idk what to tell you

There are a few colleagues around who are in some stage of their pregnancy and soon headed into maternity leave. Being the general, of course he has extended his congratulations and well wishes to them before they’re off for a few months. The ladies in turn cannot help but prod if he has children of his own.

Surely, it should be well-known fact… maybe? He is quite the private man despite his high ranking position. No one aside from a very few select individuals even knew of you being his wife for the longest time. Never even knew the General was dating anyone.

So they can’t help but be curious, “General you must know what it’s like. Haven’t you children of your own by now with your spouse?”

He only smiles and chuckles fondly. The first seed of want, now firmly planted in his subconscious. Oh how the expecting mothers dote on him and say his children surely must look like the spitting image of him. All fluffy, silvery hair and kind eyes (Do they assume he’s the only one making them? What about your genes?). And he has to unfortunately let them down with amused, gentle smiles that, no, he has not had children.

Yet, some part of him whispers. A part that lays dormant for now.

The seed of desire takes root when he’s home with you and you’re fussing lightheartedly over Yanqing’s attire. Worrying over the young boy being out too late and skipping lunch. He wonders when it became so natural for you to fall into step as a mother-figure for his retainer. In little things, he notes. It’s not outright but it’s enough to make him pause and take it in. Chew it and over think it— let it linger in the back of his throat like the burn from a fine drink.

A mother… The thought is fleeting— a whisper unheard and carried with the breeze as Jing Yuan idles next to you in the gardens of his home.

Those next coming nights, for weeks on end, Jing Yuan is plagued with dreams of pressing himself deep within you. He fills your womb, whispering praise and prayer to your ear as he desperately begs you to bear his children. It’s something so carnal and raw and desperate he wakes up with a start, body drenched in a sheen of sweat and a throbbing erection. He’s panting lightly, having to go to the bathroom to sort out his little… problem in the middle of the night while you’re sound asleep, none the wiser to your husband’s evolving desires.

He doesn’t know what’s more torturous— closing his eyes and dreaming of breeding you until you’re both incoherent or looking at you while you sleep, daydreaming of your soft belly rounding out as the months ago by. Hips soft and just noticeably wider, breasts plump and full, and you’re glowing and–

Aeons, he’s hard again for the 3rd time that night.

The general, respected and composed and perfect, coming undone—untouched—at the thought of you having children with him. Part of him is a little distraught but, he thinks, he just loves his wife that much.

And he’s not wrong.

When he has you gasping and begging for release under him on the rare occasion he has time to love you how he wants, it devolves into fucking you into the mattress with a wild look in his eyes. Honeyed gaze watching you plead and fall apart under him as he now practically has you folded in half, his large hands sinking into the plush of your thighs as he presses them to your chest.

Usually he opts for pulling out and finishing on your tummy, but that night it’s like the aeons are working against him (or maybe with him? Lan the wing man, who knows). You’re begging and clawing at his back as he pounds into you approaching his climax— pleading and slurring your words of please please please Yuan inside– I want– I want it inside please please hurry h-harder please!

You’re playing with the thin strand of sanity he has left. Any semblance of decorum and gentle, vanilla husband is not worth it if it’s keeping your womb empty. But Jing Yuan will spoil his wife always and foremost. If it’s what his wife wants, he won’t hold back.

[luimagines]

Hey hey!!! Saw you opened asks- so I wanted to send my love and appreciation for everything you do💕💕

Maybe a reverse of “You Blurt Out Who’s Your Favorite” , where the chain accidentally say that reader is their favorite? Silly pining ensues. (You don’t have to do this as always. Have a good day 💕)

Sure thing, Anti! I hope you have a good day too! <3 :D

Masterlist

Immediate Reader, boys under the cut!

"I am the best!"

"In your dreams!"

"The greatest!

"Uh-huh."

You snorted as the boys all ragged on each other. Typical sibling behavior.

They were all playing the game of 'Who is the greatest? Certainly not you.' And you were trying really hard to not make it seem like you were paying attention to their shenanigans.

"Well, Malon likes me more!"

"No way! I'm her favorite."

Screw it you're joining this.

"I am the favorite!" All eyes turn to you as you smirk.

"....I doubt that."

You laugh and cross your arms. "I have yet to be proven wrong."

"Well you're certainly mine."

***

Legend

Legend crosses his arms as he rolls his eyes. He sees the group look to him and huffs. "I mean, honestly- Hello? Have you met them? They're easily the odd man out here."

"Ok." You deadpan. "Rude."

"Which means-" Legend flicks your forehead non too gently. "-that you're not as annoying or willing to throw us all off of a cliff."

"That was one time!" Wild shouts from the back.

"Well regardless, I can trust them to get the work done with out having to pick up the slack." Legend admires the ring on his fingers, acting nonchalant about the whole thing.

Some of the boys all seem to shuffle nervously on their feet. they seem to know what he's talking about.

This catches your attention. "Wait- hold on. When was this? What happened?"

Legend grins, looking like the cat that caught the canary. "A while ago. You were too busy doing your part to notice that we had been left to get rid of the rest of the monsters."

That last part was pointed. And you don't think his bombastic side eye was helping matters.

Ok. So Legend was holding a grudge. That's good to know.

You cleared you throat and rubbed the back of your neck. "So... that makes me your favorite?"

"Especially so." Legend turns back to you. His expression almost changes in a full 180. Before it looked at if his glare could have set them all ablaze but now his gaze is almost... soft. Tender, even.

Your breath gets stuck in your throat and you're shocked that you're even beginning to feel flustered by it. "....Don't mention it."

"I haven't." Legend winks and you bite your lip, losing your nerve and looking away. "But I don't mind bringing it up that you've been most helpful."

"Ugh, gross, he's flirting." Wind groans and shoves his way between the two of you, breaking the moment in twain. "Get a room! We don't need to see it!"

"I wasn't flirting-"

"That wasn't-"

'Yeah, yeah..." Wind blows a raspberry, making some of the others boys snicker. "Whatever helps you sleep at night."

Twilight

"Thank you." You grin and happily start walking with a spring in your step.

Twilight seems to pause, letting his words sink into his head. The others rapidly catch on that he hadn't intended to say that out loud, but you seem none the wiser and actually quite pleased with this revelation.

You skip ahead and even go as far as to loop your arm with his. "I think you're pretty neat too, Twilight."

He coughs and rub the back of his neck with his free hand, letting you hold his dominant arm hostage. It's not like he's complaining. "I'm glad."

Hyrule snickers on the side lines and Twilight finds it in himself to send him a particularly nasty look. Over your head, naturally, so you don't see and don't get the hint that some of the other boy seem persistent to drop in his stead.

You drop your grip on his arm to hold his hand instead, swinging your hands together as you all walk. "Good to know that I'm the favorite over all."

"That can't be it." Legend says with a smirk on his face.

Twilight growls. "Shut it-"

"Twilight said so. You all heard it." You fire back, ignoring Twilight's words. "I am the favorite."

"Mhm." Time hums in agreement. "I don't see why not."

"Old man." Twilight stresses the nickname, pleading as wordlessly as he can to let the subject drop and let him live.

You finally look up to him with a tilt of your head. "Were you lying?"

Panic stabs his heart and he rips his hand away from you in shock as he tries to salvage the situation. Whatever it is he's trying to salvage anyway. "What?! No! Of course I wasn't lying! I think you're incredible!"

"Ok!" You grin as if nothing had happened and grab his hand again. "That's a relief. I wasn't going to say anything but you're my favorite too. So it all works out in the end."

Twilight flushes as you begin to drag him forward on the trail. "....I beg your pardon?"

"You're pardoned!" You start swinging your hands again. "Let's go!"

Time

You trip over your feet and snap your head to face the old man who hadn't even bothered to look in your direction.

Surprisingly, it was Twilight who spoke next. "...Well that doesn't very fair."

Time snorts but comments no further.

Part of you wants to beam in joy. And to rub it in the rest of the boy's faces.

That's high praise coming from Time and you all knew it.

There's a sudden pep in your step as you keep walking forward. "Ha! I'm Time's favorite. Na nana na~"

Time smirks and watches you with an amused smile. Wind groans dramatically and launches himself onto Time's arm. "But come on! We're all cool and nice and how come I'm not your favorite?"

"It's not that you're not my favorite." Time explains gently, chuckles as he pries Wind off of his arm with a particularly rough hair ruffle. "It's that they-" He points to you. "-don't make it their life mission to give me grey hairs before my time."

"You don't need our help to get grey hair, Old Man." Legend teases.

Time swipes at the hero playfully, letting him easily evade his grasp. "I'm fully aware. And yet you all seem keen on making it happen."

You laugh, feeling more proud of yourself than you probably should. It feels good, even if there's a little voice in your head that's telling you Time only said you were the favorite to tease the other heroes. Even if that were case, you can't bring yourself to mind it. You can tease the others about it as well!

Twilight seems particularly put out and you make it a point to stick your tongue out at him out of childish pettiness.

Twilight catches on and pouts harder, sticking his tongue out at you in return- right for Time to clock him in the back of his head. "Easy, Pup."

"They started it!" Twilight cries petulantly.

"I'm ending it." Time gets a mischievous twinkle in his eye. "Besides, I didn't hear them arguing with you lot about who was the greatest among you."

You put your hands on your hips. "I am quite awesome though, aren't I?"

Time sighs. "A mark of a true hero is humility." He flicks your forehead. "But yes- you are awesome."

Sky

"Awww... Sky, that's so sweet!" You put your hand to your heart and grin at the suddenly bashful boy.

"Ah- well... You're welcome."

Hyrule laughs and slugs him on the shoulder. "You didn't intend to say that out loud, did you?"

"Nope." Sky scratches the back of his head.

"That's ok." You pat his back, feeling a little better about your own ego. "I think that makes it all the better."

"...Right..." Sky smiles a little tensely, seeming a little more nervous than he's willing to let know.

"Wait-" Warrior raises an eyebrow. He says your name questioningly. "Who's your favorite?"

"Oh! Hyrule."

"Huh?"

"Yup." You give Sky a wink while the other boys start rapidly firing questions. Not because they want to know why Hyrule, but they want to know why not them.

You know, like the children they are.

Sky relaxes a little bit when you walk forward to keep the attention of off him and onto yourself, giving him enough time to collect himself and then wonder if you wee serious or not.

So... you didn't technically help him despite your efforts, but you don't have to know where his head space is at.

"...You were serious, weren't you?" Hyrule says in a quite voice. "Did you mean that as in more than just being a favorite?"

"...So when I say I didn't intend to say that out loud-"

"Sky, oh my god."

"I know."

"You even looked them in the eye-!"

"I know!"

"..."

"..."

"....My condolences."

"Don't remind me." Sky groans, hiding his face in his hands.

Warrior

Everyone freezes before all heads slowly turn to him.

Your jaw drops in total shock. Of all people to say something in this context, in that manner, he was would have been at the bottom of the list.

Warrior raises a cool eyebrow, daring to smirk as the cherry on top.

No body makes a move, almost afraid to break the tedious atmosphere around the group and once rowdy boys.

You clear your throat, garnering the attention for yourself against your wishes. You however, keep your gaze on Warrior. The son of a gun winks.

You flush and feel the need to clear your throat again. You were trying to be sarcastic and facetious. You weren't expecting a genuine response. At least you think he's being serious. The silence certainly doesn't help you get your nerve back.

"Moving on." Warrior turns on his heel and begins to walk away, leaving you all in the wake of his cutting sentence.

You try to meet the eyes of the other but they're all looking at you for your reaction instead.

You throw up your hands in a desperate attempt to get the attention off of yourself. "I didn't tell him to say that!"

"Of course not." Warrior has the gall to speak once more on the topic. "But that doesn't make it any less true."

"You-!" You shout, unintentionally being louder than you intended. "SHUT! Not a peep out of you!"

Warrior gets a gleam in his eye that spells trouble for you later. He grins even wider and blows you a kiss.

You have half the mind to throw something at him.

Wild leans up next to you and bumps your shoulder with his. You turn to him in a desperate attempt to hide your shame. His eyebrows dance in a knowing fashion and you give completely. Shoving the Champion as far aware from you as you can, you also begin to get a move on for the day.

The others boys laugh quietly around you, amused at the turn of events.

"I hate all of you."

"No you don't!" Someone gleefully calls back to you.

"Why don't tell that to Warrior?" Four teases.

You plan revenge on him specifically. Instead of following through with that however, you speed up to catch up to Warrior.

"Am I really your favorite?" You find yourself saying before you could stop yourself.

Warrior chuckled. "Of course. Have I ever lied to you?'

"Well..." He has a point there. You take a deep breath. "No."

"Well, there you have it."

Four

"Are you serious?" Wind pouts. "I thought it was Time."

"Nope." Four puts his hands on his hips. "And unlike some people, I'm not afraid to speak my mind. I said it and I'll say it again. They're my favorite person here. Any one that disagree has to come up with some pretty convincing evidence to make me change my mind?"

You beam and feel yourself bubble up with happiness. You bounce on the balls of your feet and clap happily. "Yay! I'm Four's favorite!"

You turn to Sky excitedly, pointing in his face. "Eat it!"

He gives you a startled look before he starts laughing under his breath.

Four snorts and shakes his head. "Any objections?"

Most of the boys shake their heads, amusement twinkling in their eyes. Four grins as well and shrugs. "I guess we're done here."

You giggle like a maniac as everyone starts falling back into line, the conversation ending then and there with Four's declaration.

You on the other hand, feel like that you've gotten the ego boost of a life time. You're not entirely sure why. Being Four's favorite went straight to your head and elevated your mood to a whole other level.

"This is the greatest achievement of my life." You say, not entirely sarcastic as you wanted to sound. "I think I can die happy now."

"I didn't think it would make you this happy." Four noticed you bouncing on cloud nine. "Do you think I'm that special that it's so important to be my favorite?"

You pause and blush softly. A beat passes with all eyes on you and you decide to bite the bullet. "Of course I do. You're also my favorite person."

"Person?" Wild catches your slip up.

You snap your head to him and stick your tongue out. "Don't even start. I said what I said. I won't take it back."

You turn back to Four and see him giving you the softest smile. Your heart starts pounding in your chest. Oh. That's new. You finds yourself smiling back.

"Get a room!!" Warrior drops his hand to your head, nearly throwing you to the ground as he ruffles your hair. Twilight does the same to Four, ruining the moment.

"Hey-! Get off!" You shout and shove the hero away.

"Twilight, watch it!"

Wind

You snap your head in the direction of the voice and feel a wide grin cover your face. "Well thank you very much, Pirate."

You reach over and ruffle his hair roughly, playfully throwing off his balance as he yells and tries to fight you off without making it into a legitimate fight.

"Ok, ok, take it easy you two." Time steps in, taking your hand off of the boy with a light chuckle on his breath.

"That's it." You say, meeting the rest of the group with a wild gleam in your eye. You aim to start trouble. "Wind is officially my favorite too. The rest of you stink."

"Oh, come on. Be nice." Wild snickers, throwing his arms round your shoulders to shake you just as playfully. "We all have our good moments. Why does Wind get the sudden promotion?"

"Well you literally stink." You jokingly, pinch your nose and throw him off of you. "Come on, Wind."

You turn around, sticking your tongue out at all the other as they snicker at Wild's offended face. Wind was laughing loudly, happily taking your outstretched hand when you offered it.

"Let's go to the front of the group where all the cool kids hang out."

"Ok!" He giggles, swinging your hands together as you start to walk a little faster to get ahead of everyone else.

"Are we just going to let them get away with this?" Wild shouts, having his pride wounded by your throw away comment.

"I mean..." Sky shrugs.

"Seriously?!"

"They're not wrong." Warrior snort, gently knocking the back of the Wild's with the heel of his wrist. "Maybe change your clothes every once and a while."

"You're one to talk." Wild grumbled, taking out his sheikah slate to look for something to wear. "I am not that bad."

You bite your lip to keep your amusement at bay and shrug as well. "If it's any consolation, Wild, you're not as bad as Twilight."

"I heard that!"

"You were supposed to!" Wind calls out for you and laughs loudly once more, pulling you along before taking off in a sprint. You looked behind you to see what happened, only to see Twilight chasing after you both.

"Wind, run!"

Hyrule

"Rulie', you gotta warn people before you say things like that." Wild chuckles as he knocks the Traveler in the back of the head in your stead while you stood staring at the boy agape.

"Sorry." He blushes and rubs the back of his head. "I couldn't stop myself fast enough."

"Wait- hold up." You find yourself saying. "....You mean it. Like... really really, you mean it. You wouldn't react that way if you didn't."

Hyrule coughs and bite his lips, bravely meeting you in the eyes. Goodness- you didn't think you have a thing for him but that particular expression has all cylinders firing off in your brain at once. You didn't even know he could pull that kind of look off. And he's not even trying!! It's not that kid fo context!

"Yup... I uh-... Well, there's nothing wrong with admitting it, right?"

"Rulie' I thought we had something." Legend dramatically put his hand to his heart, falling with his full weight onto the other hero. "The betrayal is deep Hero of Hyrule."

"Get off of me!"

"Just twist the knife deeper while you're at it!"

You snort and quickly cover your mouth with your hands, horrified that sound escaped you so easily.

It catches Hyrule's attention easily.

In an attempt to clear yourself of the embarrassment, you lean heavily in your bravado and wink at the hero in front of you. Hyrule manages to throw Legend off of him but he suddenly can't look you in the eye.

Hey- it was to save yourself from the embarrassment, not him.

"Of course there's nothing wrong with it." You find yourself saying. You continue to lean into your bravado and put your hands on your hips. "You're my favorite too, Link. So don't worry about it."

"Wait, really?" He looks up back to you, with a light dusting of pink over his cheeks.

"Um- they said Link." Warrior throws his arm on Hyrule's head, using it as a head rest. "Clearly they meant me."

"They did not!" Wind jumps on Warrior's arm. "They meant me!"

You start laughing again and when your eyes meet Hyrule's once last time, you wink again for good measure.

You both know who you meant.

Wild

"Whoops, did I say that out loud?" Wild laughs awkward, bringing his hand to the back of his neck. He scratches it, worried about how all of the people in the group turn to look at him.

"Yes." Sky tilts his head, trying (and failing) to keep the smile off of his face. "Yes, you did."

"My bad." He coughs, clearing his throat in the process. He does nothing to clear the blush on his face.

"Really?" You whisper, feeling your heart swell.

Wild bite his lip, turning on his heel. If he was trying to play it off and be inconspicuous, he's doing a horrible job of sweeping it under the rug. "Of course. Now- where were we?"

"No nono no no-" You grin wider and begin to chase the resident wild child. "You're not running away from this."

He actually takes off in a sprint.

You squawk, as do some of the other boy in the group before you decide to call his bluff and chase him as well. "Wild, get back here!"

"No, I'm good!" He shouts over his shoulder.

You nearly stop as you process your words before you decide to pick up the pace. You don't respond at first, too focused on closing the distance. You watch the hero as he runs, watching the steps he takes to copy them and not trip over the unfamiliar terrain.

He's not familiar with it either, but he seems to assimilate to any climate faster than anyone else you've ever seen.

Until he starts to slow down and looks behind him to see you running at him at full speed.

The scream he lets out is nothing short of comical and the brief second it took him to process and react to what he was was enough to allow you tackle him.

It doesn't work. He's too strong to be knocked over that easily but an attempt was made.

You laugh, feel as light as feather and very much out of breath. "Am I really your favorite?"

"Why did you chase me?!"

"That doesn't answer my question." You smile cheekily.

Wild pants and puts his hands on your shoulders, pushing you away from him so that he could look into your eyes. "...Yes."

"Perfect!" You kiss his cheek and start to run back to the group before either of you could get into trouble. "See you back at the group!"

"....What does that even mean?"

[violentdelightsandviolentends]

Honey Girl. Chapter Four.

Chapter One. Chapter Two. Chapter Three. Chapter Five. Chapter Six. Chapter Seven. Chapter Eight. Chapter Nine. Chapter Ten. Series Masterlist. The Playlist.

Chapter Synopsis - You and Bucky deal with the fallout of Cora's reveal. What's that saying? If you love something, let it go...

Pairing - Dad'sBestFriend! Bucky Barnes x Female Reader - soulmate au

Age Rating - 18+

Warnings - cursing. angst. alcohol consumption.

Word Count - 5k

Author's Note - i can only apologise that this chapter took a little while!! my life is at a super weird place rn, so i'm just trying to find the time when i can. words cannot describe how incredible all of your support is for Honey Girl. the fact you all reblog and comment and send me asks means the world to me. love you all so much.

as always, reblogs, comments and feedback (even anonymous feedback) are immensely appreciated!! your reblogs are the only way to circulate my fics, which keeps me going <3

Masterlist. Inbox.

You can't breathe.

It's like all of the oxygen has been sucked out of the air, leaving it dry, brittle, sterile. Your lungs are burning, scratched like sandpaper. The backyard is spinning, like teenagers at a roller rink - all flashing lights and endless rotations.

You haven't taken your eyes off of Bucky, and he hasn't taken his eyes off of you. If you were thinking more logically, you'd probably realise that you've been staring at each other for too long, and it's starting to look a little suspicious. You don't care.

Your ears are ringing. It's like there's been an explosion, and you're scattered amongst the debris. Smoke, flames, rubble. A catastrophic detonation in your parents backyard.

A gentle hand on your shoulder snaps you back to reality. The music is still playing, everyone around the table is still conversing, the house still stands. No explosion here.

"Sweetheart?"

It's your Mom, clearly sensing your distress. She probably thinks you're upset with her, for telling Cora. You are, but that's not what's causing the pain in your chest.

"Come inside with me, baby girl. Let's get away from the noise for a second."

She grabs your hand and pulls you out of your chair, still none the wiser to the magnetism preventing you from breaking your gaze that's locked on Bucky's. She practically drags you inside, the cool air of the kitchen waking you up.

"Sweetheart, I am so, so sorry. Cora overheard the conversation we had earlier. I thought it was good news, so I didn't think to ask her to keep it private."

She looks like she's being eaten alive by guilt. Your bottom lip quivers, your eyes well up, and before you know it, there are warm, salty tears dripping down your cheeks.

"Hey, hey. What's the matter?"

You sit down on the tiled floor, back pressed against the cabinets. Curling your knees to your chest, you try to stifle your sobs.

"Everything's such a mess, Mama."

She drops to the ground, gathering you in her arms. She holds you as tight as she can, rubbing soothing circles into your back and whispering comforting words in your ear. Eventually, she pulls back to look at you.

"What's the matter, baby? I thought Stella's call was a good thing - that you'd be excited to go back to California."

You take a shaky breath before replying.

"It's just... I think - I don't, it's... it's so complicated."

She traces her fingers over your cheeks, your eyebrows, your nose. She dances her fingertips over your face, as if she's committing it to her mind forever. It brings back warm and cosy childhood memories of her doing the same thing to help you sleep. The two of you would snuggle up against all of your pillows in bed, tucked up and safe. She'd lie with you until she was sure you were dreaming, before kissing you on the forehead and sneaking out.

"Talk to me. We can figure it out. We always do."

"It's not that simple. I just... there's a lot going on, I guess. I thought it'd be an easy decision, but it isn't, and it's all I can think about, and it's eating me up because I'm so scared I'm gonna do the wrong thing -"

You cut yourself off with a sob, resting your head on your knees.

"I knew there was something bothering you, sweetheart. Why didn't you come and talk to us? Even if we can't fix it, we can listen."

"I thought I could handle it. I thought I could figure it out on my own."

"You don't ever have to carry stress like this on your own, baby girl. Ever. You hear me?"

You nod and lean into her, letting her rock you in her arms on the kitchen floor.

"I'm sorry again, about Cora. She means well, you know she does."

"I know. Doesn't feel like it sometimes, but I know."

A pause.

"Okay, sweetheart. What are we going to do now? Whatever you decide, we'll support you."

"Your Mom's right," your Dad says from the doorway. "Whatever you choose, we'll be right alongside you. No matter what."

He strides over to join the two of you on the floor, sandwiching you between him and your Mom.

"If you need help packing up and moving, we're here. If you need us to create an elaborate lie to tell Stella, we're here. Either way, you've got us."

You smile at him gently, leaning to rest your head on his shoulder. Regardless of what happens, you have two parents that love you more than anything in the world. That has to count for something.

"You wanna rejoin us outside, or are you too tired? No one will blame you if you go home."

"I think I'll go home," you murmur. "I don't wanna face any more questions for today."

"Bucky's just gone too. Said something about an early morning tomorrow."

You inhale shakily at the mention of his name. You know you'll have to face him sooner or later.

Your Dad stands and grabs your hands to help you to your feet, before doing the same to your Mom. They both hug you tightly before walking you out to the front door.

"Promise me you'll call if you need anything. Anything."

"I promise, Mama. Don't worry about me. I'll be okay."

"Do you want one of us to walk you home?"

"No, it's okay. I think I need the air."

"Love you, baby girl."

"Love you too. Both of you."

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

You're halfway home when you decide to turn around. You need to talk to Bucky.

It doesn't take you long to figure out where he is. You can feel in your chest that he's close by, that he hasn't strayed far. He hasn't gone home, though. The Universe is pulling you in the opposite direction.

The beach.

You spin on your heel and start walking down the road, picking up pace as you go. You can feel rain in the air, threatening to spill from the clouds at any given moment. Before you know it, you're running, sprinting along the sidewalk in the direction of your soulmate.

You get to the small boardwalk and look out over the sand. The sky is grey as concrete, cold and unforgiving. You spot a figure in a worn brown leather jacket by the shore, and you know instantly. It's him.

You march onto the beach with your shoes still on, wrapping your arms around yourself to act as a shield from the wind. You left your jacket at your parent's house, too eager to get out of there in a hurry. The rain is suspended in the air, never quite reaching the ground. You know it's only a matter of time before the heavens open.

"Bucky!" you yell, practically bounding across the sand. "Buck!"

He doesn't turn because he hears your voice. He turns because he suddenly feels like he can breathe, which he hasn't been able to do for the last hour. He knew you were there before you shouted his name.

"Bucky, please!"

He spins on his heel and stops walking, waiting for you to catch up with him. You're sprinting, panting as you reach him. The ocean waves crash against the shore, dangerously close to his boots.

"Buck, just let me explain," you choke out, trying to catch your breath.

You finally stop running and look at him. He looks broken. His hair looks like he's pulled his fingers through it repeatedly, tear tracks staining his cheeks, lips bitten red. You've never seen him upset like this. It's the worst thing you've ever witnessed.

"There's nothing to explain," he begins calmly, trying to keep a lid on his feelings.

"There is, Buck. There is. I... Cora overheard me confiding in my Mom, telling her about a call I'd gotten, from a classmate at culinary school. It was just an offer - I haven't accepted anything! I never meant for you to find out like this, I swear. It's all just... it's all so fucked up."

He looks at you in disbelief.

"No, you know what's fucked up?" he asks, raising his voice. "Finding out that my soulmate is moving across the country from some alcoholic suburban mom at a dinner party!"

You've never heard him yell before. You don't like it at all. You gather yourself before replying calmly, determined to keep you emotions under wraps.

"I've been trying to find a way to talk to you about it, but I didn't know where to start. How do I even begin to explain any of this?"

"Maybe, I don't know - 'hey, Buck, I got a call and I'm thinking of moving thousands of miles away for my dream job,' would be a good place to start?"

"It's more complicated than that. I was trying to protect you."

"Protect me from what?"

"From blowing your life up for me!"

You stare at each other for a minute, both of you unblinking.

"What are you talking about?" he croaks out.

"You'd drop everything for me, Bucky, and I can't let you do that. You've worked too damn hard to let it all go."

He's dumbfounded, for a moment. Not because he doesn't understand. No. He's realising that you're right.

"I knew that if I told you straight away, you'd have persuaded me to let you come with, and I would have said yes. And then you'd regret it, and you'd resent me, and we'd be over before we've even begun."

When he doesn't say anything, you continue.

"The thing is, Buck, the selfish part of me would have happily invited you along. Me and you, in California, running a bakery? That sounds like a fucking dream. But I have to listen to the other side of me, the selfless part. And that part is telling me that you have worked too damn hard for too damn long just for me to take that all away."

You feel droplets of water on your face, and for a moment, you wonder when you started to cry again. Then, in the deep distance, you hear a crack of thunder. The rain begins to pour, both of you caught in a storm in more ways than one.

"You don't get to make a decision like that for me!" he finally responds, yelling to be heard over the downpour. "We're supposed to talk about these things! To figure them out together! That's what soulmates are - we're a team!"

"I can't think rationally around you, Bucky! It's like all logic goes out the window. I'm just so overwhelmed with-"

You stop yourself before the word comes out, but you both know what you were about to say. He feels it in his ribcage, the surge of emotion from you.

"-with how I feel about you. You're my forever, Buck, and I feel like -" a sob wracks through you, shaking your frame. "-like I've fucked it all up already."

Your tears mix with the rainwater, trailing down your cheeks. You watch as Bucky fights with himself, internally battling his feelings.

"You're not the only one fucking it up," he chokes. "You repeatedly told me we had to take it slow, but I just... couldn't help myself. I've never felt for anyone what I feel for you, and being away from you for even a minute is fucking torture. I moved us too fast, and now look where we are. We've become the equivalent of a married couple in a couple of weeks. No one can handle change that sudden."

"It's not.. none of this is your fault, Buck. I kept something from you, something big. I know it doesn't matter now, but I want you to know how hard it's been to not tell you. It was killing me."

"I felt it," he murmurs shakily, willing himself not to cry. "In my chest. You were so torn up about something, and I just couldn't figure out what it was. I should have pushed you more, but I was worried I'd push you away."

Your lip trembles as you watch him bite his own anxiously.

"I'm so scared, Buck," you whisper. "I feel so lost and so confused and like nothing makes sense."

"Me too," he whispers back, eyes never leaving yours. "I'm fucking terrified. Our worlds have been turned upside down."

"Is it... is it supposed to be this hard? Everyone makes it sound so easy."

"I don't know. Maybe the Universe heard that we were anti-soulmate and decided to be super tough on us. Cosmic karma, or something."

You choke out a laugh through your tears. The rain has plastered your clothes to your body, the salty wind chilling you to the bone. Without thinking, Bucky takes off his jacket and wraps it around you, unable to watch you shiver any longer.

"What now?" you ask quietly. If he wasn't standing so close, he wouldn't have heard it.

"Let's get out of the storm," he suggests, nodding his head towards the path home. "We can talk some more somewhere warmer."

You sniffle and take a deep breath, willing yourself to get it together. Bucky surprises you by linking your hand with his, warm fingers intertwining around yours.

He doesn't let go the whole way home.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

Bucky takes you to his house.

You haven't been here since before your Tethering. You walk in the door, and your knees threaten to give way.

It's overwhelming.

Everywhere - everything - smells like Bucky. His scent clings to every fabric, every upholstery, every room. There's pictures scattered across the mantelpiece, his handsome face staring at you wherever you go. The house is warm, cosy, and just so Bucky it makes your heart ache.

You walk over to the fireplace, taking a closer look at the array of frames adorning it. There's one of your parents and Bucky smiling, sat out on his lawn last summer; another of Bucky and his team of mechanics, stood proudly outside his garage. A small black frame catches your eye. You pick it up, and your breath hitches in your chest.

It's a picture of the two of you on the deck of his boat, the day after you found out you were soulmates. The wind is blowing your hair, billowing your shirts, sun beating down on your skin. You're both beaming at the camera, bright and blinding, completely content.

You're holding back tears as you put it back in it's original place.

"My favourite picture," he murmurs from somewhere behind you. "We look happy."

"We were happy," you whisper. Then, quieter, "We will be again."

A pause.

"You want something to drink? Coffee, cocoa? Oh, I have that tea you like, the apple one?"

"You do?"

"Yeah. I, uh, bought some last time I went grocery shopping. In case you stopped by."

"Tea sounds good. Please."

You stay stood in the middle of the living room while Bucky puts the kettle on the stove, worried that your wet clothes will ruin his couch. As if he's read your mind, he pops his head around the door.

"There's a load of fresh clothes folded on top of the dryer. Grab whatever you want, dry off a little."

You wander into the laundry room, sorting through the pile. You find a t shirt with his garage logo on the back in big, white letters.

J.B.B. Motorcycles and Automotives.

The blocky, bold font swirls across the black material. You run your fingers over it, tracing the curves and spikes of the typeface. It's something you've seen him in a million times. You inhale deeply as you slip it over your head, revelling in the way it smells like him. You grab some boxer shorts and slip those on too, glad to finally be warm and dry.

Bucky loses his breath when you walk into the room. He's never seen you in his clothes before, and for good reason. He's about to have a goddamn heart attack.

"Tea is on the coffee table," he chokes out. "I'm gonna change, and then we'll talk, yeah?"

You nod gently, settling into the cushions of his couch and tucking your legs underneath you, mug warming your hands.

When Bucky returns, he's in sweatpants and an oversized hoodie that you want to burrow yourself into. He takes his place, careful to put a little distance between you. Far enough that you're not touching, but close enough that you almost are.

"I'm sorry," you whisper. "I'm not good at this."

"Neither am I," he smiles gently. "It's my first time having a soulmate."

"Mine too," you laugh softly.

It floors you, his ability to always be able to comfort you. It's like a superpower, the way he always knows what to say or do to put you at ease.

"I think we got a little ahead of ourselves," he begins, careful to keep his voice low and deliberate. "I keep forgetting that we have forever. Literally. I was so eager to rush into this with you because I got excited. Don't get me wrong, I'm still ridiculously excited, but I'm realising now that our version of 'slow' wasn't slow at all."

"This whole Tethering thing makes everything so intense. There have been times where I honestly thought I was going to drop dead if you didn't kiss me."

"The feelings mutual," he chuckles.

You lace your fingers with his, never breaking eye contact, before addressing the elephant in the room.

"What am I gonna do about California, Buck?"

Your voice cracks just saying the word.

"Stella needs an answer, and I've upset you, and my parents are clueless, and I just - I don't know what to do. Tell me what to do. Please."

"I can't tell you what to do, honey," he soothes, running his thumb over the back of your hand. "And I'm not upset. I was, in the backyard... but I was mainly just blindsided. I kinda get it, you not telling me. I'm not sure what I'd do in your situation either."

"I just feel like both decisions are wrong. I can't win."

"Hey, hey. Look at me, pretty baby."

Bucky cradles your face in his warm hands, forcing your eyes to meet his ocean blue ones. You have to focus on his words, so you don't get lost in the waves of his irises.

"At the end of the day, it's completely your decision, and no one in the world can change that. But-"

He takes a deep breath, and continues.

"I think that you'll regret it every day for the rest of your life if you don't take the incredible opportunity that's been offered to you."

You take a second to process what he's telling you, your mind running at a thousand miles an hour.

"Are you... you're... are you saying I should take the job?"

"Like I said, it's your decision, but... yes. I'm saying you should take the job."

Your eyes well with tears, and you bite your lip to stop them from escaping. Inhaling carefully, you put your hands on his chest, feeling his steady heartbeat under your palms. He's calm. He's sure. He's collected enough for the both of you.

"What about us?" you ask, barely above a whisper.

"Like you said, baby. I'm your forever." Buck leans in, resting his forehead to yours. "We have time."

"All the time in the world."

You connect your lips to Bucky's softly, testing the waters. He kisses you back with so much feeling, tears slip from your lashes without warning. He's crying too, emotion mixing with yours, dousing you both.

You pull away and wrap your arms around him, curling yourself into his chest. He holds you as tightly as he can, knowing this will be the last time for a long time.

"So you'll go."

"I'll go."

"And I'll stay."

"You'll stay."

"And we'll be okay. No matter what, we'll be okay."

You and Bucky fall asleep in each others arms, cherishing the feeling of home one last time.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

The happiness is starting to seep through.

You're devastated to be leaving Bucky behind, but you're trying to look on the bright side. Sunny beaches, new people, your dream job. If you think about the positives for long enough, the Bucky sized hole in your chest hurts a little less.

You're packing up your bookshelf when your phone rings, scaring the life out of you.

"Bitch!"

You know who it is instantly.

"Hi, Lacie."

"Where have you been? Why didn't you answer my text from last night?"

"Shit, sorry. I've been packing. What's up?"

"We're going out tonight. Not just us - all the girls. We're throwing you a goodbye party!"

You groan inwardly, massaging your temples with your fingers.

"A party? Lace, I don't need a party."

"Babe, you do. You really do. It'll be fun! I thought you'd be excited!"

You take a deep breath, and remember what you've been telling yourself. Focus on the positives.

"Okay, fine. Where? What time? What should I wear?"

"I knew you'd say yes! Come to my place at like... six? We can get ready together, like old times! And wear something sexy."

She doesn't wait for you to argue, just hangs up the phone. She knows you too well.

You know it'll be good for you, to see your girlfriends - but the thought of all the goodbyes you're about to say breaks your heart a little more.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

"Okay, what the fuck is going on with you?"

You're sat cross legged on Lacie's living room floor, sharing makeup that's scattered across the coffee table. You sip your wine for a moment, trying to come up with an excuse. It's no use.

"I don't know."

"Bullshit."

You turn to look at her.

"What?"

"It's bullshit, babe. Something's going on. You've been given your dream job, and you're moping around like you just got broken up with or something. Why aren't you happy?"

There's no malice in her voice, just pure love. She adores you. You adore her. She's the one person with an outsiders perspective on all of this. So, you cut the act.

"I had my Tethering."

Silence.

She's processing.

"What?!"

"Yeah."

"When? Who? Where? How? Oh my God what is happening? Why didn't you say anything? Fuck, I'm gonna cry. I'm so overwhelmed right now, I'm so happy for you! Wait... are we not happy?"

"It's... complicated."

There's a lump in your throat, but a levity in your heart. A weight has been taken off you. Telling someone the truth has made you feel a little lighter.

"Who is it, babe?"

You take a deep breath, and look her in the eyes.

"Bucky."

Her jaw drops.

"Your... your Dad's best friend Bucky?"

"That's the one."

"Oh. My. Fucking. God."

"Yeah."

"Holy shit."

"Yeah."

"This is complicated."

"Yeah."

"Aw, babe."

She pulls you in for a hug, not caring about the makeup you're smearing across her shirt. You cling to her as tightly as you can, savouring your best friends comfort.

"Does anyone else know?"

"No. We decided not to tell my parents for a while."

"Shit. No wonder you've been so sad lately. You're moving across the country, away from the one person you're supposed to be near."

"It's really hard," you whisper, tears threatening to spill.

"I can't even begin to imagine," she murmurs, holding you close. "I wish you'd told me sooner. We could have talked about it."

"I know," you sniffle. "I thought I could handle it on my own, but I really can't."

"You're not on your own, okay? You have Bucky, and you have me. You can always talk to me about this stuff. God knows I talked your ear off about Cameron."

You laugh softly, thinking back to that day that feels both like yesterday and a million years ago.

"Where is he tonight?"

"Out with his boys. It's good for us to spend a few hours apart."

You smile at the happiness that's radiating off her. She's glowing, beaming in all directions.

"Thanks, Lace. I love you. You know that right?"

"Of course I do. I love you too. So much," she leans forward to kiss your cheek. "Now let's have one hell of a last girls night, shall we?"

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

You've lost track of exactly where you are.

You know you're downtown somewhere, in one of the bars. This one smells like wood and whiskey, lowlit and smoky. You hit the cocktail bar first, then the one covered in leopard print, then the monochrome pink one. Now, you're here.

The six of you are sat at a booth, high heels tangled and legs intertwined under the table. The wood is sticky with lemon wedges from tequila shots, salt scattered across the surface.

"If you find any hot west coast men, will you send them my way?" Reese asks, nudging you with her shoulder.

"And if you find any hot west coast women, will you send them mine?"

Everyone laughs, the scent of perfume filling the air.

"Rosa, what happened to Aubrey? We liked her!"

"Caught her kissing my ex girlfriend. So now they're both my ex girlfriends."

"Jesus Christ."

"Man, that's rough," Lacie giggles next to you.

The other girls continue to talk about Aubrey's infidelity as Lacie leans to whisper in your ear.

"Have you said goodbye to Bucky yet?"

You nod.

"Yesterday. I stayed the night, we fell asleep together. Said our goodbyes in the morning. It was awful."

"Love you," she whispers, squeezing your hand under the table.

"Love you too," you reply, squeezing back.

"There's a table of super hot guys over there," Maggie observes, tilting her head in their direction. "Maybe we should conveniently dance that way in a little while."

You don't bother to look over, knowing that none of them will compare to your soulmate. The other girls seem interested, though, so you smile along with them.

"Babe," Sam hisses, kicking you under the table. "There's a hot guy at that table, three o'clock, that keeps staring at you."

You glance over, and your heart stutters in your chest.

Bucky.

His blue eyes pierce your soul, even from across the room. For a moment, it's only the two of you, all the noise forgotten.

You're snapped back to reality by Sam.

"Fuck, he's hot. If you don't want him, I do."

"You should talk to him," Lacie suggests quickly. "Why not, right?"

She's practically pushing you out of the booth, high school wrestler style. In another life, you think, she would have made a good football player. All five foot four of her.

You walk past his table, eyes still locked on him, and towards the bathrooms. You know he'll follow you. You walk to the end of the hallway and out of the door, into the fresh night air.

You feel him appear before you see him. You lean your body against the wall, head resting on the cold brick. Bucky stands in front of you, shirt stretched across his shoulders gorgeously.

"Hi."

"Hi, honey baby."

You smile softly at the nickname.

"What are you doing here?"

"I got dragged to a boys night. What are you doing here?"

"I got dragged to a girls night."

He laughs, and all the tension melts from your muscles.

"Thought we said our goodbyes. I didn't think I'd see you again before I left."

"Me too. But you know the Universe. It hates us."

"Cosmic karma," you whisper.

The two of you stand down the alleyway, looking at each other carefully. Neither of you wants to spook the other person. You'd processed your leaving, said your emotional goodbyes. And now he's here, standing in front of you. You don't want to have to do it all again.

"I should probably get back inside, before the girls get the wrong idea."

"Baby, I followed you to the bathroom. They've already got the wrong idea."

You chuckle, kicking at a rock on the ground.

"Yeah. I don't know how I'm gonna explain this."

A smile. A pause.

"I'll let you get back to your friends, then."

You lean up to press a kiss to his stubbled cheek.

"Bye, Buck."

"Bye, pretty girl."

You push off the wall and walk away towards the door. Suddenly, a warm hand wraps around your wrist, yanking you into a solid chest.

Bucky kisses you like a man possessed. There's nothing gentle about it - just pure, unadulterated passion. It's all teeth and tongue and nipping and biting, neither of you willing to be the first to pull away.

He walks you back into the wall, pushing you against the rough brick. You hike a leg up onto his hip as he grabs your thigh to pull you closer, desperate to feel all of you. Your hands are in his hair, around his neck, tangled in his collar, his shirt, his belt loops. Anything you can get your hands on, you grab.

A distant chorus of cheers break you out of your lust fuelled haze. A bachelorette party walks by, one of the women winking at you as they go. You and Bucky take a step away from each other, straightening out your clothes and fixing your hair.

"Promise me you'll call me if you need anything," Bucky murmurs, leaning to rest his forehead on yours.

"I promise," you whisper, almost against his lips. "Goodbye, Bucky."

"Goodbye, honey girl."

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

The salty ocean wind whips through your hair, sun beating down onto your skin, some upbeat pop song humming from the radio. You keep your eyes glued to the road in front of you, begging yourself not to look back. You know if you do, you'll turn the car around and run straight back into Bucky's arms.

Let the happiness seep through, you remind yourself, gripping the steering wheel.

Let the happiness seep through.

tag list part one -

@lillytracy6996 @securegorgon @roostersforevergirl @povlvr @val-writesstuff  @dreadfulxives18 @1deadpool26 @abbygraceasd @nyutasgirl @mavrellover91 @winterslove1917 @f-this42 @skewedcherries @noisesinthedark @kandis-mom @black-cat-2 @harrystylesandthegoobs @vladsgirlxx @h0nestly-though @arienotari @nash-dara   @wandaneedstherapy @galaxy-dusk @justherefortheficandsmut @cremebruleequeen   @cjand10 @buggy14 @avengers-fixation @blueberrybambi @beautiful-loserr @sarah1barnes @miss-rebel-without-applause @ragingrainbowshipl @shamrockqueen @savemeroman @jenn-f @8crazy-freak8 @daddyjackfrost @openup-yourmind @adangerousbalance  @mandijo17 @daddylorianisastateofmind @rcarbo1 @casa-boiardi @spideegwen @navs-bhat @mssbridgerton @asuni921 @middle-of-the-earth @mfrnchsk

[omi-boshi]

period cramps and a little bit of pining

your best friend omi comes over to take care of you during your period

tags: no plot just gratuitous fluff and yearning word count: 2.2k

through the haziness that comes from just waking up, you hear the muffled sound of knocking, followed by the click of the door unlocking. you poke your head out from under the covers, curious. the sound of footsteps and rustling just outside your bedroom door fill the space and truthfully, you should be more worried that a stranger has seemingly broken into your apartment. however, the lack of angry growling from your sweet great pyrenees and screams of bloody murder from the stranger soothe the concern that tries its damnest to rise above your grogginess. you stay quiet, curled up on your side, head still peeking out. the continuing muffled sounds almost lulling you to sleep, your eyes falling close. that's how kiyoomi finds you.

he pushes the bedroom door open. quietly, he pads over to the bed and crouches just beside where he can see your face. the concerned furrow between his brows softens slightly as he takes in your sleepy form. he debates waking you up, not wanting to disturb the sleep you're finally getting after a night dealing with cramps of the worst kind. he wishes nothing more than to indulge you as he always does but as your closest friend, he knows you have yet to get up and eat. and that takes priority. cautiously, he runs his fingers through your hair and down your cheek which you turn into, seeking the warmth radiating from his skin. the subconscious action disarms kiyoomi. he has to fight through the thumping in his heart to call your name until you finally start waking up. he watches as you rouse from your sleep, grumbling through the whole motion. it tugs a small smile up his lips. your eyes flutter open and the seconds that follow are punctuated by the stillness of the air as you stare up at him, slowly processing his presence. your eyes travel up his figure. the mask dangling from his right ear. the hoodie he wears — the one you usually steal from him. the fuzzy socks you got him for Christmas. the worn sweatpants you've told him many times to replace and yet he never does because it looks fine, you remember him arguing at some point. the memory of it makes you smile. your gaze trails to the soft curve of his lips, the moles partially covered by his damp messy hair — he must have showered before he came from practice — before finally landing on his eyes that quietly watch you. "hi," you finally whisper in what feels like eons. voice scratchy from disuse. "hey, sleepy head," he says just as softly, mirth coloring his tone. "what are you doing here?" "you texted me last night. did you forget?" you hum in confusion, sitting up slowly and pulling your arm from under the covers to look for your phone.

to omi!!! :] Yesterday 10:43 PM

omiii com e over tmrw :((( - from omi!!! :] Yesterday 10:44 PM

You okay? - from omi!!! :] Yesterday 10:44 PM

I have practice in the morning but I can come over after. Is that alright?

- to omi!!! :] Yesterday 11:07 PM

that work s yes!!! and im okya, just kinda in pain and loopy from the meds and sticky ;-; - to omi!!! :] Yesterday 11:07 PM

everything hurts n i cant sleep on my back but it's ok see u tmrw! - from omi!!! :] Yesterday 11:08 PM

It's that time, huh? - from omi!!! :] Yesterday 11:08 PM

Get some rest. I'll be there as soon as I can.

"oh," you mumble, as you scroll through your messages. "i thought I was dreaming." you put your phone down to look kiyoomi in the eyes, a tilt to your head. "i'm glad you actually came though." kiyoomi breathes in deeply, heart thumping so loud — at this point he's sure you can hear it. but of course, you are none the wiser as you continue peering down at him, sleepy smile on your face.

"of course, i would." he returns the smile. “anyway, i didn’t know what you wanted since you didn’t reply to me all morning.” he pulls out a paper bag that was sitting behind him. “so, i just got a bit of everything.” in your curiosity, you sit up straighter to look at the bag kiyoomi has brought. he starts pulling out its contents and showing them off to you with a dorky grin that grows the more items he shows you. there were donuts, churros, chocolates, cookies, mochi, bread of all variations, and a singular bottle of the tea drink you've been raving to him about the past month. "kiyoomi!" you yell, doubling over in laughter. "i can't eat all of this!" "well, good thing there's two of us," he rolls his eyes, grin still on his face. "in my defense, i didn't know what to get." which is a lie. sort of. because everything he got were things you mentioned craving the days leading up to this week. not that you needed to know that of course. "you'd ruin your diet for me, omi?" you pout, eye glimmering in amusement. "that's so sweet! come here!" you reach out to pinch his cheeks, cooing how your omi is the sweetest and kindest person there is and that people would know that more if you stop looking so grumpy, you idiot.he feels his ears flush and he pushes you — nudges, really — to the side, grumbling something about ungrateful spoiled brats. but he can't bring himself to actually chide you for it, not when you're high in spirits right now and he knows how the littlest things could set you off. he wants you happy for as long as your period lets you which isn't long; fickle as your moods are at these times. "alright, alright." he chuckles. "go freshen up and let's get some real food in you first before we eat the sweets," he stands up from his kneeling position on the floor, hand on your arm to pull you up, grunting as he does so. you groan as if remembering why he was here in the first place. you flop helplessly on the bed, boneless, unwilling to leave the inviting warmth of the blankets. "nooo," you whine, purposely obnoxious just to irk him enough to let you go. "i know what you're doing." he tugs again. "it's not gonna work." it's a losing battle, one that you fought valiantly 'til the end. your whining doesn't work and only ends with you thrown over his shoulder. you yelp, thumping his back with your fists in protest as he makes his way through the living room where your dog sees you both and follows you to the bathroom.

kiyoomi gently puts you down, righting your crumpled shirt. he chuckles at the look you send him. to him, you look about as threatening as a baby chick but he rightfully stays quiet. not taking any chances with your knees so close to his crotch. "there are some pads in the cabinet that i bought," he pauses to fix your hair that got messy from being upside down. "it's the kind you always have." you grumble out a thanks, still a bit peeved from being carried out of bed. kiyoomi was right, of course — you do need to freshen up — but you can still give him trouble for it. you're bleeding out and you feel all weird, sue you, right? "while you're here, i'll go heat up the food i got you — it's korean, by the way — and feed snowball too then we can do whatever you want after. sound good?" kiyoomi tilts his head towards you to see your face.

you don't answer immediately, still stubbornly holding on to the frustration of being forcefully pulled out of bed. but just like most things are with kiyoomi, it's a losing battle. again.

it doesn't take you long before you drop the pretenses and meet his gaze. what you see makes the fight in you leave all in one go. his gaze is warm with mirth and... something else. you don't know what it is but it makes you feel shy being at the receiving end of it. you are suddenly conscious of how sloppy you must look right now even though you know kiyoomi would not mind. in your rising embarrassment, you usher kiyoomi out of the bathroom, eyes not meeting his. snowball, who's just so happy to be there, follows kiyoomi out the door. a muffled boof! sounding through the door once you get it shut. you get your wits together and freshen up, taking extra time to deal with the flush on your cheeks that just won't disappear. kiyoomi is taking out the last of the food from the microwave as you come out of the bathroom, livelier now that you've washed your face. he greets you with a smile and calls you to the dining table. lunch is far calmer, a nice change of pace after the hectic ordeal of getting you out of bed. the strange shyness from earlier is forgotten temporarily as you both talk about nothing and everything; how volleyball practice went, how his courses are going, about the new show you wanted to watch with him. once you start feeling the cramps come up again, kiyoomi catches the change in your expression and decides it's time to go back to bed. he hands you the pill you take to treat the cramps and a glass of water. you give him a grateful smile and he ruffles your hair in return.

"go back to bed. i'll be there in a sec," he says, no room for argument. you feel a bit guilty not helping with the cleanup and you tell him as much. he only snorts and tells you it's fine and that it's what i'm here for.

it doesn't do much to abate your guilt but with the cramps only getting worse, there's not much of a choice to be made.

when kiyoomi comes back, he sees you curled up under the covers, eyes shut in pain. he grabs the rechargeable heating pad from across the room and nudges your hand with it. it's only then that you open your eyes.

"hi," you mutter, attempting to smile. "the medicine hasn't kicked in yet." you grab the offered heating pad. "hey, guess we're not watching that show then?" kiyoomi murmurs, knowing full well that you would want to sleep the ache away. you give him an apologetic smile which he only waves off. "i really wanted to watch it too," you mourn. "it's fine. we can watch it another time." he smiles kindly. the silence that follows is somewhat cautious, neither one sure where to go from here. usually, you would have invited kiyoomi into bed by now and he would groan his protest before reluctantly joining you, all the while you would be teasing him about it. but the shyness from before overtakes you and kiyoomi is unusually hesitant as well, eyes darting and feet shuffling in place.

he is the first to break the silence. "i'll head to the living room so you can sleep, okay?" he begins turning away from you. at his words, you hastily sit up. "omi," you call out. he looks to you, head tilted to let you know he's listening. you can barely hold eye contact as the next words stumble through your lips. "um, the-the heating pad falls off when i sleep on my side and, and you know how i can't sleep on my back because the bleeding would leak," you look away from his gaze. "do you... do you mind helping me?"

kiyoomi turns around, regarding you curiously. "and what do you want me to do?" knowing that words will fail you, you silently flip the covers and pat the space beside you. kiyoomi exhales and cautiously takes his spot on the bed, as if this is the first time he's done this. it makes you snort; your shyness and his hesitance, it's ridiculous. and yet you're unable to soothe your increasing heartbeat.

"and then?" kiyoomi asks, quietly.

shaking off the anxiety that's starting to take hold of you, you nudge his shoulder, urging him to lie down beside you. you turn your back towards him, reaching for his hand and slowly guiding it down to lay flat on the heating pad pressing to your lower abdomen. you swear you hear the sharp intake of breath over your shoulder; whether from the temperature of the heating pad or the action itself, you don't know.

kiyoomi is quick on the uptake and lays his palm fully on the pad. it takes you by surprise when he pulls you towards his chest that you can't help the little gasp you let out. "like this?" he asks, almost teasingly. the hesitance from before melting away from his tone. unfortunately for you, it does menacing things to your heart.

with your heart seizing in your chest, you hum your affirmative and relax in his hold. kiyoomi pulls up the covers on both of you and adjusts so that your head rests on his other arm. with the soft thump-thump of his heartbeat combined with the warmth from the heating pad and his body, you are slowly lulled to sleep. "we should talk about this, you know?" you hear just as you are on the brink of sleep and you only hum in response. you hear him chuckle, or rather feel the vibrations of it. And then lastly, a kiss to your hair. "another time then."

what comes after will be dealt with another time. for now, you will enjoy each other's warmth.

i wrote this on a whim because im currently bleeding out and everything hurts so bad and i wish i had an omi to take care of me ;;;;; I've got a more planned out fic that i can't wait to get out there i swear ;;;; pls take this crappy peace offering for now

[fuctacles]

Remember late bloomers ?

Love popping into my wips and finding finished stuff I should have posted ages ago

Jeff gently informs him that getting running gear for the first date is a bit of an overkill.

“There is so much wrong with that idea. First of all, you hate running. Exercising, in general. And second, this is kinda pathetic.”

Eddie gasps.

“How dare you!”

“Dude, you just officially met today. Why would you waste money on something you might use once and then never again?”

Jeff was, of course, none the wiser that Eddie was about to enter his fit era. He’s going to jog every morning from now on, he’ll get cute matching sets with Miss Stephanie, drink smoothies, and get a gym pass. He’s going to turn his life around, lose the tummy fat he’s been harboring all winter, and turn it into a sixpack. Their fans are going to love it. Stephanie, too. They’ll run off into the sunset—or sunrise—together, they’ll make and raise the healthiest little babies—

“Are you planning your wedding or something?” Jeff interrupts his daydreams with a scoff.

Eddie bristles.

“I’ll be planning your funeral if you don’t start supporting your perpetually single friend,” he bites back.

Jeff raises his eyebrows.

“You sure that’s what you should be saying to the only friend who can lend you some jogging clothes?”

“Uh…”

“Thought so.” And Eddie hates his satisfied smirk but he’s desperate so he bites his tongue. “So, what you really need are good running shoes…”

He feels all kinds of stupid in his sporty get-up. He’s wearing his old Reeboks he wears only when his shitkickers are in repair (he will wear them to his grave), Jeff’s tracksuit pants, and his lucky Ozzy t-shirt. He woke up extra early today and his mug of coffee was almost empty by the point she, Stephanie, rounded the corner.

His mind goes blank when he recognizes his hoodie.

Maybe he hasn't woken up yet. What other explanation was there for this beautiful creature, backlit by the rising sun, to be walking up to him, decked in bright-colored leggings, and tank top and his hoodie, clashing unforgivingly with its blackness?  How else would he get a date with her if it wasn't a dream?

"You're actually dressed for running," she observes. No 'hello', no 'good morning', just her eyes roaming over his body from above. He quickly jumps up from the porch steps.

"Yeah! Lemme just..." He motions to the door with the mug, then quickly gulps down the last mouthful. "Want some water?" he asks, hand on the door. 

Stephanie's eyes snap up to his face.

"Yes."

It's weird, the way she says it, the way her eyes wander over his body. There's no way he's looking that good in borrowed sweats. They have some ugly gym logo on the side too.

"I don't really own gym clothes, but my friend was nice enough to share his," he explains, letting her in. She hums absentmindedly and follows him into the kitchen. He puts the mug in the sink and grabs a glass to fill it with freshly filtered water. When he turns around she's right there, now without the hoodie which she hung over on one of the chairs. Her tits are right there, but he holds her gaze, like a gentleman.

"Thanks." She takes the glass from him and takes a tiny sip, not breaking eye contact. Then puts it aside, on the counter behind him. "What's your stance on making out on the first date?"

Eddie's brain starts screaming.

"Not opposed to it," he answers and is immensely proud of himself for keeping his voice steady.

"Great," she says, almost relieved, as if he could give any other answer than an enthusiastic "ravish me, lady," and gently grabs his face, thumbs rubbing on the stubble along his jaw. She gives him a second to back away before leaning in.

She kisses his lips, just a little peck, a gentle caress. Dives in for another, and one more. Eddie reaches up to run his hands from her elbows up to her shoulders and feels little tremors running through her body. He frowns.

"Steph...?"

She groans instead of answering and her little kisses turn to kitten licks. When he parts his mouth for her, she licks across it, tongue pulling on his upper lip. He yelps in a pleasant surprise.

"I come here with innocent intentions," she says, her voice a bit strained, dipping into lower registers. "And you sit here, with your scrawny little ass in gym sweats." She lets go of his face so her hands can squeeze his waist minutely, before hauling him up onto the counter behind him. He squeaks, less dignified than the sounds he made before, holding onto her. Stephanie presses in and he opens his legs for her without hesitation. "And your dirty old sneakers, ready to jog with me. Eager like a puppy."

Eddie whines at the comparison.

"I'm not," he protests. He's just an adult man confronted with a beautiful woman out of his league.

"You're not?" she asks condescendingly against his ear. She's been rubbing her cheek against his stubble, nosing along the bones like she's the dog, trying to rub her scent all over him. Now she leans back to pout at him. Her lips are plush and pink and they haven't been kissed enough yet. "But I like strays."

Eddie's brain short-circuits.

"Uh... bark?"

She laughs and grips his thighs before capturing his mouth. She dominates the kiss without struggle and Eddie lets her use his mouth to her heart's content. He just wraps his arms around her neck and takes it, moves his tongue where she guides him. He can feel her hands on his thigh itching to touch more, but he doesn't want to part long enough to let her know she can, that she can take whatever she wants.

Eventually, she slides her hands up, thumbs digging into the crease of his thighs, and he mewls. His face immediately goes red at the sound that just left him.

"Well, that's something I'm not gonna un-hear."

Stephanie freezes and moves to pull away, but he traps her with his legs around her waist and presses his face against her shoulder, to hide his shame. Of course this is when Jeff decided to get up and walk into the kitchen.

"Uh, I'm sorry? And, good morning," Stephanie offers, seeing as her actual host won't be of any help. He makes a little wounded sound against her shoulder and she swats his thigh. 

"Good morning," Jeff offers back. "Stephanie, right?"

"Yeah."

"Jeff. I live here too, unfortunately. I was under the impression you were going out for a run, though?" He raises his eyebrows. "Did I lend him my exclusive membership sweats for nothing?"

"They're yours? Can we keep them?" she asks immediately. Eddie presses his nails into her skin not to make a sound at how she said 'we'. "He almost has an ass in them."

"Hey!" It's the first thing he says since Jeff walked in and the first time he moves away from the safety of Stevie-shield. Thankfully, his friend looks mostly amused, not angry or disgusted.

"Please," he makes a face. "I don't want them anymore."

"What is that supposed to mean?" Eddie's eyes narrow, the familiar back and forth giving him enough courage to release Stephanie from the clutch of his legs. She doesn't move far, just enough so the three of them can look at each other and chat comfortably. Well, considering the situation.

"I just saw you dry humping in them and you dare ask me?" Jeff scoffs.

The two culprits start protesting over each other with "We weren't dry humping!" and "We were just kissing?!" but he stops them, raising both his hands.

"I don't care! Just take them and leave the kitchen! I need some caffeine before work and the only bodily fluid I want in it comes from cow tits."

"Ew, dude," Eddie groans, but Stephanie lets out a surprised snort. 

"We're leaving!" she promises, pulling Eddie down from the counter. He scrambles to find balance but she grabs his hand to steady him. Despite them just making out, that's what makes his heart skip a beat. "it was nice to meet you, Jeff!" she offers, waving on her way out of the kitchen.

"Likewise. Good luck on your run!" he calls after them.

"Thanks!" 

Through the windows, he can still see them, Stephanie fixing Eddie's rumpled t-shirt while he's staring up at her with the dumbest expression he's ever seen. And he's seen a lot of them from his friend. 

"Good for him," he mutters to himself with a fond smile. 

[siriuslovebot]

˖ ࣪⭑˖ ࣪𝒅𝒆𝒕𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏 ➸ 𝒔𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒖𝒔 𝒃𝒍𝒂𝒄𝒌˖ ࣪⭑ ˖ ࣪

𓏲 ࣪₊♡𓂃 𝑨𝑵𝑶𝑵𝒀𝑴𝑶𝑼𝑺 𝑨𝑺𝑲𝑬𝑫: slytherin!reader x sirius enemies to lovers possibly? thanks love!!

𝑾𝑨𝑹𝑵𝑰𝑵𝑮𝑺: smut (18+, minors dni!), enemies to lovers, mean/condescending sirius, lots of teasing and arguing, unprotected sex, semi-public sex, petnames (doll, pet), explicit sex scenes, etc.

𝑺𝑼𝑴𝑴𝑨𝑹𝒀: the reader and sirius are always at odds. after earning a detention, they decide to sneak to the kitchens at night and get sidetracked.

𝑨/𝑵: ugh i'm such a slut for enemies to lovers with sirius eeeeek. i had had had to write this! btw sorry for going mia for a few days; work has been exhausting me :( i'm gonna work on some requests tomorrow since i'm off and hopefully that can hold you all over until i have more time. also, to clarify, my smut posts are for 18+ audiences only! i will be blocking minors who interact with my smut posts. as always, this is unedited, so sorry for any errors/typos! hope you enjoy!

𝑾𝑶𝑹𝑫 𝑪𝑶𝑼𝑵𝑻: 4.7k 𓂃♡₊⭑

·͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺

“you bloody prat!” the foul words leave your mouth before you have a chance to stop them, your hand flying up to cover your mouth. immediately, your gaze finds the figure of professor slughorn at the head of the classroom. his eyes are wide, set in a surprised expression as he looks over you.

“miss y/n,” he says, in a rather mild voice for his looming presence.

you flush, skin burning. the entirety of the class watches you, fists clenched around a handful of wormwood as it crumbles. beside you, there���s a self-satisfied smirk on sirius black’s face. he’s got a smear of flobberworm mucous over his sleeve, where he’s just emptied his entire container into your cauldron, effectively rendering your sleeping draught entirely useless.

“i’m sorry, professor,” you say. in an effort to placate him, you glance at sirius and sigh in exasperation. “sirius just– bumped into me, and knocked all of this flobberworm mucous into my cauldron. promise it won’t happen again.” you cut your eyes at the elder black brother, his expression slightly bemused at your sudden change of tone. there’s no need snitching to professor slughorn; you’ll get sirius back, and it’ll be far worse than any detention with the head of your house. 

“very well,” says professor slughorn. he’s taken your bait, and you’re glad for it. “mr. black, i’m sure you won’t mind miss y/n assisting you, since her potion is now–” he peers over your shoulder, having lumbered over to your table. his lips curl up into a grimace “--ruined, yes, quite awfully. sharing is caring, after all.”

sirius grunts as professor slughorn slaps him on the back like an old chum. your features curl up into a sneer, your eyes glowing with retribution. sirius huffs a quiet, “yes, professor.”

he glares at your shit-eating grin as you settle yourself beside him. his own potion doesn’t look much better than yours; he’s clearly been focused on making your life a living hell rather than on his potion-making, and it shows. “this looks shit,” you say, making a face at him.

“‘course it does,” he says, sourly, “dumped all my flobber mucous into your potion, didn’t i?”

“serves you right, you dirty, conniving little–”

sirius cuts you off with a snort, “ugh, y/n, if you want to fuck me so badly just say that.” his sarcastic words send a jolt through you, your stomach bubbling with rage.

“in your dreams, sirius,” you spit, knocking your shoulder into his with enough force to make his stool wobble. professor slughorn is none the wiser, gloating over lily evans’s potion across the room. 

sirius grumbles under his breath, tapping his wand mindlessly against the cauldron in any effort to help his quickly deteriorating potion. after a moment he says, “help me out here, will you? it’s your bloody potion, too.”

“i’d rather die,” you say dramatically, lifting your chin haughtily as you distract yourself by scratching a star into the tabletop with your fingernail. the fury radiating off of him is enough to satisfy you for now; he’s swearing under his breath, dumping odds and ends into the cauldron in a futile attempt to save his mark for the day. you prod the inside of your cheek with your tongue, trying not to smile at his frustration. karma, karma, karma. you can only hope he’ll have to endure extra credit hours in slughorn’s office, listening to all the stories of his talented old students. you couldn’t imagine a more boring saturday night. 

“stupid, fuckin’ thing, what am i doing wrong?” sirius says quietly, startling you with a particularly hard thump of his wand against the cauldron. you glance inside, the mixture having congealed into something nasty and grey. you wrinkle your nose.

“everything, by the looks of it,” you say. you answer his tight-lipped expression with a sickeningly sweet smile and a bat of your eyelashes. you’re sure he’s starting to rethink his choice to ruin your potion this morning. 

“shut up,” he hisses, a particularly foul emphasis on the words. if looks could kill, the daggers he stares into you would be piercing straight through your heart. you almost want to goad him even further, provoke him into a reaction that will be enough to get him in trouble with dumbledore himself, but you know better. you’re very good at playing the long game.

thus begins your blood-thirsty rivalry with sirius black. of course, neither of you were particularly fond of the other in the first place; you supposed it was his hatred of slytherins. he approached you as if you were some scum-of-the-earth, less-than-human creature, solely because of the house you were placed in. funny coming from someone whose little brother shared the same house. from your first interaction, you decided you could be exactly who he envisioned you to be, and you made it your mission to do so. 

at first, the incidents are easily passed off as “accidental.” sirius charming your quills to pelt you in the head, aiming for your eyes. you muttering a particularly difficult to reverse rendition of, “engorgio skullus,” that put him in the hospital wing for a week whilst madam pomfrey tried to shrink his head back to its regular size (though, in your opinion, it wasn’t much bigger than normal.) you began to map your paths through the corridors, purposely avoiding the places in which you knew sirius would be present. he grew very fond of casting non-verbal tripping jinxes, sending you and all of your belongings sprawling through the halls. similarly, when you found him pestering remus in the library, you were quick to employ the oppugno jinx, sending a spattering of books barreling towards him. 

you earned a detention from madam pince for that one, but it was well-worth it when you saw sirius’s battered appearance the next morning. the antics go on and on, until you’re both at odds to the point where the entire school is invested in who’s going to one-up the other depending on the day. you hear james and remus making bets on it as you pass the gryffindors on your way to herbology one day; you can’t help but smirk as remus bets on you. you always knew he was a smart man. 

after a horribly timed jelly-legs jinx from sirius, you wobble into the slytherin common room to get ready for bed. your muscles ache, as your legs collapsed beneath you just as you were at the top of a staircase. toppling down the stones, you were too busy screeching in anger to notice the almost worried look on sirius’s face at his handiwork. he’d even bounded down the stairs, muttering a half apology before you hissed, “flipendo,” and sent him crumbling into the staircase himself. as you passed his crumpled frame, groaning in pain, you were pleased to see a sheepish james handing over another galleon to remus. 

you wince as you finally make it down the passage, stopping for a second to rest your burning limbs. regulus reclines on one of the sofas, feet kicked up as he flicks through an old book. his eyes find yours briefly, flashing with mirth.

“what are you looking at?” you breathe, putting pressure on an especially sore rib. a sharp pain causes you to frown, doubling over for a second.

“y’look like hell,” says regulus.

you roll your eyes. “you know what–” you take a sharp breath at another pain. “--i get enough shit from your git of a brother. don’t you start on me, too.” you point a finger at him, wagging it.

he laughs, dropping the newspaper onto his stomach. he clasps his hands over it, cocking his head as he eyes you carefully. there’s a wicked little grin on his chiseled, handsome face. his intelligent eyes scheme for a moment, thoughts crossing through them to the point where you can practically see the gears turning. 

“what?” you repeat, impatient with his conspicuous contemplation. he’s clearly dying to speak his mind, and you’re sure you won’t make it another two minutes standing in the common room before your legs give out completely. you’re dying to get into bed. 

“i was just thinking,” regulus contemplates, smug as he leans up on his elbows.

“didn’t know you could manage that,” you say sarcastically, rolling your eyes. if nothing else, regulus is as dramatic, if not more, than his brother.

he wrinkles his nose.

“go on,” you urge. “i’m dying to know what you’re thinking, reg.”

he smiles, the curve of his lips meant to be placating in spite of his words. “how long are you and sirius going to play cat-and-mouse before you give up the act and admit you want each other?” 

“i hope you’re joking,” you say flippantly. you turn immediately from his lazing figure, marching towards the girls’ dorms. 

“deny it all you want,” he calls from behind you. “everyone knows!”

you find your dorm, luckily empty, and slam the door behind you. your neck and ears burn, as you suddenly feel quite embarrassed. there’s no way sirius likes you, and you certainly don’t have any feelings for him; other than hate, annoyance, and frustration, that is. yes, you’d like to throttle the eldest of the black brothers, and you’re sure you would get a great deal of pleasure from it. but want, lust, affection? regulus has officially lost his mind.

you seethe as you get ready for bed, a dozen reminders of sirius as you ache all over with each movement. hate certainly brews a certain sort of passion within a person, but you’d march into the forbidden forest wandless, robeless, and blindfolded before you had a single warm thought for sirius black. 

you’re still fuming as you nestle yourself beneath the duvet. and as awful as it is to admit, your last thought before you sink into slumber is of that stupidly handsome, haughty face that you think you hate so much. 

˖ ࣪⭑˖ ࣪

“not like that, you dumb–”

“please, sirius!” you retort, frustrated with the dark-haired young man sitting beside you. he’s genuinely dancing on your last good nerve, offering a snarky comment for your every movement today. “just shut up.”

somehow, you’ve been sat beside him in transfiguration. professor mcgonagall had the ever-so-lovely idea to come up with a new seating chart, placing you and sirius at a table together. you’re moments away from throttling him and being sent to azkaban for murder. 

“i’m trying to help you, here,” he says, shrugging. “do it wrong, then, if y’want. i couldn’t care less.”

“oh, you’re so good at it, are you?” you stare at him, a sour look on your face. today’s lesson was supposed to be easy (according to professor mcgonagall), and you were having an impossibly hard time as it was one of your first lessons on human transfiguration. you had yet to be successful in any of the other human transfiguration lessons, either. sirius’s nagging presence wasn’t doing anything to help. 

“seeing as i’ve been doing it for the last half an hour, i would think so.”

“well, show me, then, you bloody genius,” you sneer, crossing your arms over your chest. you blink at him, waiting for his enormous display of intelligence.

“so easy,” he mutters, rolling his eyes. “i mean, ‘s not like you’re turning yourself into a bleeding dragon or something…”

“i’m just growing my hair by magic,” you say, hot under the collar with frustration. “not everyone’s mr. perfect like you.”

sirius rolls his eyes. you watch him for another second, trying not to look impressed as he does exactly that. his dark hair grows longer before your eyes, sweeping down over his collarbones and skirting just above his elbows.

“okay, show-off,” you mutter, turning away with a frown on your face. “an inch is the requirement.”

he chuckles, smug. “‘s all right,” he says, reaching to tug on a strand of your hair, rather harshly. you gasp at the sting, swatting his hand away with a blush on your face. you shift uncomfortably in your seat. “maybe we can do it manually.” he pulls on another strand over your hand.

“sirius,” you whine, grasping his wrist to stop him. your heart thumps wildly at the look on his face, a pleased smile on his lips. he’s apparently enjoying teasing you. maybe a little too much. “that hurts.”

“aw,” he says, his voice mocking as he feigns pity. “poor baby. hurts, does it?” the condescending tone in his voice has a pit growing in your stomach, your heart sinking into it by the second. he dodges your grasp. there’s another pull on your hair. he raises his eyebrows at the whimper that comes from your lips as you shove him.

“can– can you— stop it, you shit,” there’s a flash of hands as you and sirius battle it out, him reaching over to pester you some more as you block him as best as you can. truthfully, you’re embarrassed that him teasing you is stirring your insides, exciting you in a way that is very wrong. plus, you refuse to let regulus be right. you’d rather have a slap-fight with sirius in the middle of class then let him make you crumble at his taunting actions. 

you wince as he jerks your hair again, this time hard enough to make tears prick your eyes. you respond with a sharp SMACK against his forearm, which rings through the room not unlike a gunshot. there’s a split second of complete silence, as mcgonagall is comprehending your misbehaviors.

“miss y/n, mr. black,” she says, voice strict. “ten points from gryffindor, and slytherin. see me after class.” she peers at the two of you over her spectacles, meaning business. you sink into your seat, chastised. sirius nods, pressing his lips together as he settles back into his own place. 

“nice one, dumbass,” he says quietly, crossing his arms over his chest.

“i told you to stop a dozen times.”

˖ ࣪⭑˖ ࣪

“bleeding candelabras... my fingers are going to fall off,” you complain. it’s well past midnight, filch having finally decided that you and sirius had sufficiently completed your detention. after a miserable few hours, crouched in his office polishing the silver, the two of you are finally free to go.

“tell me about it,” sirius yawns, shaking his head. “don’t think m’hands will ever be the same.” he holds his palms out in front of him, wrinkling his nose at the cracked skin. 

“gross,” you peer at his dry hands. “it’s those muggle chemicals he insists on using. much safer to use magic if you ask me.”

sirius chuckles, “poor guy wants us all to know how hard it is to be a suffering squib.”

you laugh despite yourself, then shake your head. “i hope mcgonagall’s not expecting us to go back tomorrow night. don’t think i can miss dinner again.” you clutch at your stomach. “‘m starving.”

“let’s sneak into the kitchens,” sirius suggests.

you look at him as if his head’s fallen off his shoulders. “are you out of your mind?”

“oh, c’mon. james and i have done it plenty of times. the house elves aren’t going to tell anyone.”

“we’re in enough trouble as it is, sirius,” you say firmly.

“suit yourself,” he stretches his arms over his head, turning on his heel. you watch him pad down the hall, his shirt lifted slightly to reveal his lower back as he stretches. you swallow hard, averting your eyes as your hands go a bit clammy. he rolls his neck side-to-side as he lowers his arms. 

you think about it for a second, then you call, “wait–wait for me.” it takes more than a few strides for you to catch up, and then you’re slinking downstairs with him, headed for the kitchens. a midnight snack couldn’t hurt anyone, right?

“knew you couldn’t resist,” he says, voice teasing.

you roll your eyes.

there’s a certain thrill to stalking the castle’s corridors at night. you’re not sure if it's the adrenaline or the repeated image of sirius’s bare skin burned into your mind that has your pulse hammering endlessly. a giddiness employs itself in your stomach, churning as you follow him on the familiar path down to the kitchens; it’s clear that he’s been out after hours plenty of times. he knows the place like the back of his hand, barely batting an eye as he leads you through the corridors. 

“are you sure we won’t be caught?” you whisper, voice hardly audible through the sound of your own heart.

“we’ll be fine,” sirius says, confident. “don’t you trust me?” he quirks a slender eyebrow at you. his grey eyes have a dark cast in the low light, only the shine of a few candles illuminating his features. you shrug, your mouth dry as he grins at you. 

“i–i mean, sure,” you say, half-hearted. his laugh is low, gravelly. accompanied with his tired voice, it’s enough to make you swoon.

“right, then,” he says, “we’re nearly there.”

you’re close to your destination when sirius stops in his tracks. you nearly trip over him, grasping his arm for balance as he stops, listening.

“what?” you tug at his sleeve. “what is it?”

“shut up,” he mutters, seeming much more like his normal self. “someone’s coming.” his eyes scan the corridor ahead of you, then he spins around, shoving you towards a door a few feet away.

“what–where are we?” 

he’s shoving you into a dark room, pulling the door closed very gently behind him. a heavy-sounding lock clicks into place. you push past him, hands finding the door as you place your ear against the heavy wood. you hold your breath as you listen for footsteps outside the door.

the room is very small; your feet shuffle to find somewhere to stand, through piles of junk on the floor. sirius does the same, crowding in behind you to listen along at the door. you try to ignore the heat in your stomach as he presses his body against your back in the small space. it’s the only way he can eavesdrop at the door alongside you. at least, that’s what you’re telling yourself.

you’re both dead quiet, your hands shaking as you listen. the footsteps echo closer and closer, and stop. you bite down on your lip, trying to pay attention. however, sirius’s lithe frame pressed against you is proving to be a great distraction. you feel the rise and fall of his chest as he breathes calmly. he’s pressed against you, solid and unmoving. the heat radiating from his body is lighting your skin on fire; sweat prickles your skin. 

“scared?” he whispers, voice barely perceptible.

“no,” you lie. you hope he doesn’t know the true root of your fear; the sinking possibility that he could find out just how much you’re enjoying this. how much you’ve been dying to be this close to him for the last few weeks. 

“liar,” he mutters. he’s still listening. “it’s mcgonagall out there,” he says.

“how can you tell?” you ask. the darkness has heightened your other senses, but you’re not as observant nor perceptive as he is. at least not with him pushing you against the wall like this.

“dunno, the cadence of her footsteps or something. remus can probably explain it better than i can. i just know.”

“you just know,” you say simply.

“mhmm,” he hums in agreement. “i just know a lot of things.”

“like what?”

there’s a second of loaded, thick silence. the air is thick enough that you swear you can feel it wrapping around you, suffocating you.

“like how much you’re enjoying this.”

“what?!” your voice is more of a hiss than a whisper, and he shushes you gently. 

“careful, pet,” he says, “want mcgonagall to find us like this?”

“we’re not doing anything,” you say, embarrassed.

he chuckles darkly. “not yet.”

sirius presses closer to you, his body pinning yours against the door. a gasp escapes you, your mouth hanging open as his hand finds your chin, lifting your face towards his. “such a pretty noise, doll,” he says. you can hardly see him, but you can imagine the look on his face from his tone. his eyes dark, lips quirked in a pleased expression, eyelids hooded. 

“sirius,” you say, though it sounds more pleading than you intended.

“gonna start begging for me already?” there’s that laugh again, sending a jolt of heat straight to your core. 

you’re burning up, embarrassed that you’re so needy already. you shouldn’t be enjoying this as much as you are, enjoying your least-favorite person pinning you against the wall in an old supply closet. not to mention your professor stalking the hall just outside the door. your head spins. 

“shut up,” you mumble, though you don’t mean it. you squirm, taking a breath as you feel his length pressed against you from behind. he sucks air in through clenched teeth at the feeling. his face dips down to meet yours, his lips catching yours in an open-mouthed kiss. he licks into your mouth, your tongues uniting messily in the middle. there’s a clash of teeth, a grunted noise from him, and strings of saliva as he pulls away for breath before he’s diving back in. you relish in the obscene sensation, the messiest, wettest kiss you’ve ever been privy to. you’re enjoying every second of it, however naughty it may be. 

your stomach flutters, enjoying the sharp dig of his other hand gripping your hip. another soft noise from you, into his mouth. he groans, his long fingers still holding your face in place. he pulls away, lips swollen and chin coated with saliva. he trails wet kisses down your jawline, biting at the tender skin of your neck. you rock back against him, your core throbbing as he muffles a low noise in the back of his throat. 

“fuck,” he slurs, breathing heavily already. “you don’t know how bad i want to fuck that smart fucking mouth…” he whispers, his breath hot on the shell of your ear. “shut you up for once…”

you’re throbbing at his words, aching so bad that you’d get on your knees and beg him just to touch you. you’d do it yourself, even, if only he’d talk you through it. but sirius has other plans, clearly as desperate as you are.

“please,” the soft croak of your voice has him grinning at you. you can faintly see the outline of his wolfish smile, his hazy eyes as he looks at you.

“no time right now, pet,” he grinds his hips against you, still fully clothed. his bulge is rock-hard against your ass. he’s grunting softly, running his hands up and down your body. his fingers grasp your breasts, roughly squeezing through the material of your shirt. “wish i could take my time with you… it’ll have to wait.”

“just do something,” you mutter, growing impatient at the ache between your legs. you can feel your panties, soaked and sticking to your center with your arousal. 

“use your manners, you fucking brat,” he snarks, nipping at your earlobe.

you squeak, and he stiffens for a second. his hand slides up, wrapping around your throat. “and shut up. how many times have i got to say it?”

“sorry, ‘m sorry,” you whisper. the footsteps don’t come any closer. you wonder if mcgonagall is even out there at all, but your mind slips back to sirius as you feel him dragging the waistband of your trousers down. 

“keep that pretty mouth shut, pet, or i’ll shut it for you,” he warns.

you nod. you’ll do anything he says just to have him buried inside of you. you need it so bad, your entire body begging for his touch. you brace yourself, spreading your legs to allow him access as his hand delves between your legs from behind. his fingers drag through your slit, slow, spreading your juices. 

he takes a deep breath, burying his face into your neck. he’s smiling against your skin. “that pretty cunt’s just dripping f’me,” he says softly, the contrast of his filthy words and gentle tone making your head spin. “wish i could make you scream and cry for me…”

you barely register his words, flinching as he prods a finger at your entrance. he swirls it at your swollen hole, enjoying the way you jerk against him, sensitive. you bite down on your bottom lip, hard. your eyes are half-hooded, struggling to stay open as he teases you. he pushes your legs further apart, then his hand is gone. you hear the clink of his belt buckle, feel him adjusting his position behind you.

tears of pleasure prick your eyes as he sinks into you; you want to cry out, the sound threatening to rip from your chest at the slightest movement from him. he feels your whole body tense, his hold on your throat tightening. “not–” he pulls out briefly, before burying his cock to the hilt inside of you again “--a fucking sound.”

you nod, “yes, yes sir,” you breathe, as quietly as you can manage. you take trembling breaths, trying to contain yourself at the mind blowing drag of his swollen cockhead against your walls. his pace is slow, but forceful. 

his every movement is making your body tick closer to release. his thrusts are steady, wet noises squelching through the room as your juices drip down your legs. your legs are weak already, but his body pinning yours against the door is enough to keep you upright as you claw at the wood in front of you. he squeezes your throat just enough to cut off the sounds that you can’t help. his other hand finds your stomach, palm pressing into the flesh to feel the bulge of his cock buried deep inside of you. 

“god–” you breathe, throwing your head back. “can’t take it much longer…”

he makes a noise, half laugh and half moan. his voice is condescending as he says, “gonna come f’me already? pathetic little pet…” his hips rut into yours with increased force; you wince at the sudden sound of soaked slapping skin, the noises cutting through the quiet broom cupboard like a knife.

“s–slow down, sirius,” you whine, squeezing your eyes shut as the feeling becomes overwhelming. you slump against him, head lolling back onto his shoulder. “someone’ll hear us.”

his hips snap into yours, sharper. “won’t hear anything if you’d just listen,” he says, his voice sharp. “how many times do i need to tell you to be quiet?” his fingers snake up from your neck, two of them sliding between your swollen lips. you moan around them, your jaw going slack. 

he’s hitting the perfect spot inside of you, your vision going fuzzy as he forces you to the brink of orgasm. he doesn’t even have to touch your clit, having gotten you so worked up that he can just hammer into your g-spot and drive you over the edge. he hums his approval, dragging his teeth along your collarbone as you dissolve into moans and whimpers around his fingers. you drool around his long digits, teasing the back of your throat. you gag around them, your saliva leaking down his wrist. 

“there’s m’good li’l pet, being so quiet for me,” he praises in that mean voice. you clench forcefully around him, your entire body overtaken by waves of pleasure that send your knees crumpling completely. a gravelly moan comes from him, the repeated tightening of your walls pushing him over the edge. the feeling of him coming inside of you sends renewed waves of ecstasy through your body, your mind going blank as you lose yourself in the feeling. your mind can’t conjure a single thought except him, his hands all over you, his teeth grazing and marking your skin, his cock rearranging your insides. 

“sirius,” you gasp, appreciating the strength of his grip on you as he helps you regain your footing. he plants a kiss against a dark spot on your neck as he holds you upright. there’s a second where the two of you catch your breath, the quiet overwhelming after the overload of emotions you just experienced. he pulls out of you, and you whimper softly at the emptiness. you struggle to adjust your trousers, smartening yourself. 

“i wasn’t too mean, was i?” he brushes a sweat-soaked strand of hair from your forehead.

you smile gently, shaking your head. “you’ve been much meaner, trust me.”

he laughs. “seems like i’ve fucked the attitude out of you.”

“watch yourself, black.”

“right,” he nods, looking a bit flustered at the sharp look on your face. then, he says, “still up for sneaking into the kitchens?

[theostrophywife]

Sleepy sex with lorenzo 🫠

lorenzo stumbles into his dorm room, smiling softly to himself when he sees you sound asleep in his bed. after the endless drills that draco made him run through tonight, enzo was more than ready to join you. careful not to disturb you, he places his broom and bag in the corner of the room before drawing the sheets back.

his heart swells when he sees you wearing one of his jumpers, the hem of it skimming your bare legs. enzo quietly crawls in next to you, tugging you close until your back is pressed against his chest. his still damp hair tickles your cheek as he rests his chin in the crook of your neck, blinking sleepily as he breathes in your familiar scent.

humming, enzo caresses your thighs, marveling at the soft and supple skin. his big hands move to cup your ass, gently squeezing before he places you right over his front, the bulge in his sweats growing harder by the minute. your boyfriend trails hot and needy kisses along your neck as he grinds his erection against your ass, breathing heavily as he fondles you.

his breathing grows ragged as he cups your tits, massaging the soft tissue before twisting your nipples. enzo leans over to see that you're still sound asleep, none the wiser to his sinful intentions. you look so innocent and peaceful, your face buried in his pillow while you snore softly. seeing you in such a vulnerable state, entirely at his mercy, makes all the blood in his body rush straight to his cock.

despite how tired he is, despite how depraved it is, enzo just can't help himself. before he can think better of it, your boyfriend palms you over your panties, groaning when he feels you soaking through the fabric. cursing, he pulls the fabric to the side before teasing along your slit with his middle finger. your pussy is wet and warm, your body reacting to him even whilst unconscious. his finger sinks in easily, the tightness of your walls suctioning him in, making him moan as he adds another. you stir as he curls his fingers within your gummy walls, feeling you soak him with your arousal.

"en—enz, is that you?"

"shh, it's okay, honey. you're just dreaming." enzo cooes soothingly into your ear, placating you as he tugs his sweatpants down. "go back to sleep, my love."

freed from the constraints, his throbbing cock slaps against his stomach and smears his abs with precum. enzo guides your hand over his hard length, watching in awe as you stroke him. your eyes are half-closed, but the muscle memory takes over as you jerk him off, murmuring his name ever so softly.

enzo is aching, his head is spinning, he feels as though he'll die if he delays another second of feeling your velvety walls hugging around him like a lover's embrace. he wanted — no — he needed to be inside of you right now.

your boyfriend doesn't waste another second. enzo grunts as he pushes the tip of his cock at your entrance, parting your folds while you clench and squeeze around him. merlin, it feels like fucking heaven as he sinks in, his eyes nearly rolling to the back of his head as you take inch after inch. enzo nearly chokes when he's finally fully sheathed, filling you to the brim.

"you don't know what you do to me, pretty girl," enzo says shakily. "I missed you so fucking much. just need to feel you, baby."

slowly, he pulls out before slamming back in again. and again. and again.

the dark and primal side of him awakens with every thrust, the hunger for you growing like a festering wound as he scrambles to satiate his need. enzo grips your throat possessively, his fingers leaving bruises while the head of his cock kisses your cervix. overcome with pleasure, your eyes flutter open, dazed and confused at the scene unfolding before you.

"missed you, baby," you babbled, glancing behind you to find enzo smiling. you thought you were dreaming, but the reality of it was so much sweeter.

you loved waking up to find enzo filling you up, his lips a hot brand against yours while he claims you with a filthy, sloppy kiss. as his thumb circles around your clit, you whimper into his mouth, feeling the familiar warmth spread from your core.

"gonna let me cum inside you like a good girl, honey?"

“please, please — oh! i want you to fill me up. oh god — please fill me up, wanna be full of you, enzo.“

[apomaro-mellow]

Hospitals still weren't Eddie most favorite place to be, even though they had technically saved his life once. He didn't give doctors the credit though. No, he reserved that praise for his husband who had literally carried him through hell, holding his guts together.

But alas, he was still only human. And thus prone to human ailments. Which was why he was currently in a hospital bed, preparing for a tonsillectomy.

"Steve, my love, my muse", Eddie took his hand and kissed it. "Should I not return from this-"

"Oh shut up. It's a routine operation." Steve could tell he was being dramatic to cover up the fact that he was actually scared. "You'll be fine. In fact, I'm going down to the cafeteria right now. You're not getting just any ice cream. I'm gonna bring you back a whole sundae."

Steve looked to the rest of the band, who had come for moral support. "Watch him please. And don't let him fall to hysterics." He left out, really hoping he wouldn't come back to an Eddie in tears.

"Sooo", Grant started. "If you don't make it, who gets your house?"

Eddie's brow furrowed. "Uh, my husband, duh?"

"Okay, who gets your husband?", Gareth asked.

Eddie saw the cavalry arrive in the form of Steve's true soulmate. "Robiiiiin", he whined. "You have to protect Steve from these vultures", he hissed the last word.

"We're just trying to hash out who has dibs on Eddie's hot husband", Jeff said.

Robin pointed to herself. "I made it clear to Eddie when he proposed that should the marriage end, either naturally or by divorce, custody of Steve would revert back to me."

"Not exactly the answer I was looking for Bucks, but as long as you keep Steve out of another man's clutches, I won't haunt you from the grave."

"Actually, I plan on setting him up with the first wealthy guy he meets", Robin said. "Thanks to your fame, I've become accustomed to a certain lifestyle. And also, Steve doesn't know how to be single."

The other CC boys nodded sagely.

"All the more reason one of us should get him. We can take care of him", Grant said.

"I can't believe this. This is a goddamn coup!", Eddie shouted.

Steve returned, none the wiser to their conversation. "You won't believe this. The cafeteria has chocolate syrup AND nuts? Isn't that wild? You're gonna have the best sundae of your life, babe."

He took his seat right next to Eddie's bedside and kissed his forehead.

"Angel, we're surrounded by snakes and thieves", Eddie said deliriously.

"What are you talking about?", Steve asked.

Having only Eddie in his line of sight, he couldn't see the others behind him. So he didn't see Jeff making kissy faces, Gareth making a circle with his hand and sticking a finger through it repeatedly, or Grant making a V with his fingers and flapping his tongue between them.

"Those traitorous lechers covet what is mine. And not even Robin seeks to protect your virtue!", Eddie said, desperately reaching out for Steve.

Steve kept his voice even and calm, trying to soothe his husband from whatever delusion he was having when the doctor came in. This guy looked like he played a doctor on tv. Chiseled jaw with perfectly manicured facial hair.

"Good evening", he greeted.

"Hi", Steve said, voice a little breathy.

"Oh he's perfect", Robin said, reading her friend perfectly.

"I'm Dr. Morip, I'll be performing your operation today."

"Morip?", Eddie tilted his head.

"Yes, as in 'more ripped than you'." Then he flexed and busted out of his scrubs and swept Steve off his feet, ignoring the cries of the invalid on the bed.

Eddie was tossing and turning even as Steve shook his shoulders to wake him up.

"You were having a nightmare", Steve spoke softly in the dim lamp light of the hospital room. "Was it 86 again?"

"Steve!", Eddie clung to him as best as he could. "You didn't leave me for Dr. Morip!"

"Dr. Morip? Eddie, her name is Dr. Hudson. And she's married and in her sixties."

Everything caught up with Eddie as his brain became more lucid. He'd already had the operation. That had all been a dream. The tension released instantly as he realized he wasn't about to die on the table and Steve would be scooped up by opportunistic friends.

"You're mine, you know that?"

"Really? Is that why I'm hand-feeding you ice cream?", Steve teased, holding up a spoonful to Eddie's lips.

"I love you", Eddie said, voice muffled from the food and a little watery too.

"I know, you dope. Love you too."

[drabblesandsnippets]

Sunshine - Part 3

Hot Bucky Summer 2024 - Week 7

Pairing: Roommate!Bucky x Plus-size female character (nickname is Sunshine)

Prompt: “Put this on for me.” | [Blindfolds | Cock Cage | Collars] @buckybarnesevents

Summary: (5k) Series Masterlist While still dealing with the events of their drunken night out, Bucky helps Sunshine with a problem.

Warnings: 18+ Only. Slow burn. Grumpy/Sunshine trope. Happy Bucky (is that a warning?) - he's a photographer in this AU. Mention of insecurities, anxiety, intrusive thoughts, and body image (she's a bit of a mess, okay?). Brief smutty dream (PiV). Mention of masturbation. Internal dialogue. Explicit sexual thoughts.

---------------------------

Sunshine is naked underneath Bucky, her trembling body covered in a light sheen of sweat as he fucks her hard, bottoming out each time, her noises of pleasure spurring him on. She’s so wet, her pussy welcoming his cock on every thrust, her hips rolling to meet his, just as desperate to have him buried deep inside of her.

“Feel so good,” he grunts, his breath ragged as he takes in every inch of her, his hands roaming along her thick thighs and soft tummy, watching how she shakes each time he slams into her, the sight making his balls tighten. “So fuckin’ hot, Sunshine. Gonna come inside you.”

She arches her back and moans loudly, encouraging him to come for her, but he’s desperate to feel her come on his cock first, quickly moving his hand to where they’re joined, his slick fingers finding her clit.

He tries to hold back, but he’s so close, her walls fluttering around his aching cock, practically ripping the orgasm right out of him. “Fuck, gonna-.”

Bucky wakes with a start, his cock throbbing and leaking precum, the familiar tingle warning him just how close he actually was to coming. Like he doesn’t have control over himself. Like he’s a fucking teenager all over again.

“Shit.”

Gritting his teeth, his hands fist the sheets and he forces himself to breathe through it, thinking about everything except Sunshine, willing his erection to go down. 

He hasn’t jerked off in days. Not since that night he listened to her. Eavesdropped.

That whole night is mostly a blur, having spent the majority of it drinking way too much and watching her have fun with his friends, but he remembers what he did.

Random, occasional flashes of the memory of being pressed up against the bathroom wall, straining to hear her, desperate for whatever he could get. And each time it makes his stomach flip, wishing he could erase the whole thing from his mind.

The only saving grace is that Bucky can’t remember what she sounds like. It’s the only reason he hasn’t let the guilt consume him. It’s the only reason he didn’t pack his shit and leave, more than willing to give her his half of the rent for however long it would take for her to find another roommate.

And while he can’t ignore his feelings for her like he could when this all started, he has enough control to refrain from fantasizing about her. Which is why he hasn’t come in days, no matter how much he wants to, no matter how much he dreams about her and wakes up on the verge of coming. He refuses to give in to the temptation.

At least Sunshine seems to be none the wiser. In fact, after that night out, she’s more herself than she’s ever been with him. Giving him shit about his morning routine. Being the one to suggest a night in to watch something. She even made a dirty joke that nearly had him choking on his own saliva.

Given this is what he wanted, his only choice is to go back to focusing on their friendship, ignoring the desire to keep his eyes on her longer than appropriate, refusing to let a stray thought linger for too long.

He can do this.

-------------------

She’s a mess.

That night keeps replaying in her head: the drinking, the joking and dancing with his friends - something she doesn’t really remember ever being comfortable doing before. Even when she was younger, getting wasted and making poor choices, there was always a part of her that was still conscious enough to overthink the way her body moved. How she might be perceived by people.

That night was completely different. After the weed and alcohol had kicked in, it was like she didn’t have a care in the world as long as she was with them. All the shit that usually weighed her down had lifted and it turned out to be an incredible night, with incredible people. She understood why Bucky spent so much time with them, and it made her want to experience it all over again.

And then she had to go fuck it up by fantasizing about Bucky. 

She remembers it all.

Every stupid thing she imagined while she touched herself, experiencing some of the most intense orgasms of her life, losing track after the second one. When she finally exhausted herself, she went to sleep dizzy from drinking and exertion, believing that she’d barely remember any of it.

But, it’s all there, memories of it popping up at the most inappropriate times, threatening to make her blush and turn her into a stuttering mess.

The only thing she can do is overcompensate in those moments, taking advantage of the drunk conversation her and Bucky shared, wanting nothing more than to focus on their friendship, instead of the occasional thought that pops up.

Instead of wondering about the kinds of dirty things he says in bed, or the sound of his voice when he comes, she gives him shit about his singing so early in the morning. When they’re cleaning up from dinner, she asks if he wants to watch something instead of imagining his hands on her body or his cock in her mouth. She even made a dirty joke, while fighting for her life after watching him react to a silly cat video - he was laughing and all she could think about was kissing him and having his mouth between her legs.

As the days go by, her guilt and frustration builds, but her actions are more genuine, feeling less like excuses to cover for her hidden feelings. The only thing she wants - and will ever get - is to be friends with him.

Eventually, this stupid crush will pass and things can get back to normal. She might even accept another invitation to join Bucky and his friends.

Not yet, though. It’s way too soon to risk opening that pandora’s box again. For now, she plans another quiet night at home, more than happy to enjoy her own company while Bucky goes to dinner with Steve and Sam. 

-------------------

Bucky had every intention of spending the next few hours out of the apartment, wanting to give Sunshine her own space, especially after he’s spent almost every night at home since last week. But, just as he sat down at the table, Steve was texting to reschedule and not long after Sam decided to take the opportunity to go have dinner with his girlfriend, leaving Bucky on his own. 

Normally, canceled plans would excite him, giving him a reason to go off on a solo adventure, but all he can think about is being home. To spend time with Sunshine.

The entire way there, Bucky’s telling himself he should give her a heads-up. She’s not expecting him home for a couple hours and it’s selfish of him to think that he can just show up suddenly wanting to occupy her time. She deserves better than that.

But every time he opens his phone to start to type, something stops him. Excuses about not needing to let her know when he’s returning to his own home. Excuses that she’s probably busy reading or playing a game, too engrossed to even check her phone anyway. 

He’s too ashamed to admit to himself the real reason why he won’t text  - the small part of him that’s hoping he’ll be lucky enough to walk in the door and ‘accidentally’ hear her again. For all he knows, she’s even louder when no else is home.

Bucky’s still pretending he’s not thinking improper thoughts when he walks in the door, completely unprepared for what he finds.

Sunshine on the edge of the couch crying, her hands shooting up to hastily wipe her tears when she hears him come in, doing her best to hide her puffy eyes and pink cheeks from him. 

For the briefest of moments, his entire world freezes, and the only thought in his head is Who the fuck made my Sunshine cry?

When Bucky recognizes the anger suddenly building up inside of him, the protective side of him wanting nothing more than to fix whatever has her crying, even if it involves putting his hands on someone, he swallows it down and takes a slow, steadying breath.

This isn’t about him.

Moving further into the living room, he keeps his tone gentle, his concern for her seeping around the edges, “Sunshine, what’s wrong? What happened?” 

He’s not fazed when she doesn’t immediately answer him, having come to understand how hard it is for her to open up, no matter how comfortable she might feel with someone. And she and Bucky are still building the foundation of their friendship, but he already wants to be someone she can open up to.

After all she can offer is a soft shrug of her shoulders and a slow shake of her head in response to his question, he joins her on the couch, taking a seat on the opposite end, careful not to invade her space. She hasn’t even looked at him yet, and he does the only thing he can think of. 

He makes a joke, to lighten the mood, to get her to maybe smile, even for a second.

“Were you watching Up again?” 

The tightness in his chest loosens just a bit when she lets out a huff of air, the small sound feeling like a win to Bucky. It’s still hard to breathe when she looks at him, the redness of her eyes giving away how long she’s been sitting here crying, and it takes all of his effort not to pull her into a hug.

Just when the silence starts to make him feel like maybe he should be doing something, she finally speaks, her words barely audible. “It’s stupid.” It comes out along with another soft exhale of a laugh and a roll of her eyes, as if she’s trying to dismiss her feelings.

It makes Bucky’s chest ache again.

“If it’s making you cry, it’s not stupid,” he tells her with a tilt of his head. The slight narrowing of her eyes, as if she's trying to gauge if she should share this, encourages him to keep going and he gives her a shrug, promising, “I won’t laugh. Whatever it is.” She doesn’t need to be worried that he’s going to keep making light of this, no matter how ‘silly’ it turns out to be.

It’s not until Bucky places his hand over his chest to show how serious he is that she gives in, deciding to take a chance. She still does it with a roll of her eyes that has a smile twitching at the corners of his mouth, and it only grows when he watches her settle back on the couch, giving him more of her attention. 

“Fine.” 

Sunshine says it like it doesn’t matter either way, but Bucky knows her now to see that it’s just a defense. Carefully crafted armor to protect her from getting too vulnerable. One day he’s going to break through that. One day he’s going to prove to her that he’s worth trusting.

Stop imagining her naked would be a good start.

Her heavy sigh of “That promotion I got at work?” has him refocusing and he nods his head, the smile on his face turning to one of admiration. Her promotion was well-deserved and Bucky doesn’t believe for a second that she’s about to tell him it’s not going to happen. 

There’s absolutely no way. Something else happened. Did someone hurt her feelings over it? I’ll find out who it was and-

Seeing the frown returning to Sunshine’s face, and the tension building in her shoulders, Bucky stops his absurd line of thinking to pay attention to what she’s telling him. The reason she’s crying.

“They’re making me submit a headshot to go up on the company website.” A huff of frustration leaves her. “By tomorrow.” 

He can see the emotions threatening to consume her again, her embarrassment starting to flush her cheeks, forcing her to look away, unable to look him in the eyes anymore. He’s tempted to comfort her, wanting to reach out to close the distance, but he doesn’t want to risk interrupting her.

After another breath of silence, he's rewarded for his patience, and she confesses, “If I don’t, they’re going to use my badge picture.” A sniffle and then, “It’s a terrible picture. Everything was rushed, I was red and sweaty and…”

Sunshine stops talking and shakes her head before covering her red cheeks and unshed tears. Bucky doesn’t want her to feel awkward about this, and not just because there’s something he can do to help. He wants to convince her that she can tell him anything and he’d never judge her. He needs her to know that he’ll always be there to listen to whatever she’s going through, his only goal to make her feel better.

All of that would just make her clam up, want to hide the vulnerable parts of herself, which is the last thing Bucky wants.

Keeping things light, he asks, “And, I’m assuming you don’t have a headshot?” The flat look she gives him makes him laugh and he nods his head. “Well,” he grins, holding out his hands like he’s her best solution, “it’s a good thing you have me then.”

Sunshine’s immediate lack of enthusiasm is exactly why he hasn’t asked to take her picture before. All it would’ve done is put her on the spot, but this is the perfect opportunity for them to both get what they want - Sunshine will get her picture, and Bucky will get to make her happy while hopefully showing her how beautiful she is in the process.

Leaning slightly towards her, trying to catch her gaze again, he says, “I promise, it’ll be quick and painless.”

Bucky sees a physical shift in her, her shoulders relaxing just a bit, even as the pink returns to her cheeks. All of the things that she could say in response, her teasing joke completely catches him off guard. “Is that your go-to pickup line?”

He doesn’t know if he’s laughing because he somehow managed to help her feel comfortable enough to even make the joke, or because of the joke itself, but laughter flows out of him, the sound building when Sunshine joins in. 

The sight of her hand coming up to cover her mouth has the hidden part of himself wanting to flirt with her, to make her blush and giggle, but he ignores it, settling for a joke of his own. “Hardly. It’s never quick.”

For a split second, as he watches Sunshine’s eyes widen in surprise, he wonders if his mouth is about to get him in trouble - it wouldn’t be the first time - but then she’s laughing harder and all the tension leaves his body. She wasn’t lying when she said she could handle his jokes. And damn, if it doesn’t make her more beautiful.

Once their laughter starts to quiet, she shakes her head and sighs, “Fine.” This time, there’s a smile on her face, but she still rolls her eyes, as if resigned to having to do this at all, before surprising Bucky all over again. “How much do you usually charge?”

At first he’s convinced she must be joking, but the look on her face makes it clear that she’s expecting an actual answer this time. That's funnier than if it had actually been a joke. “Absolutely not,” he tells her, quickly shaking his head. “I am not charging you for this.”

Sunshine refuses to back down and does that little eyebrow raise that Bucky finds extremely hot. She’s usually so shy and reserved, but that stubborn streak of hers does something to him.

With a look telling him he’s not going to win this, she firmly states, “I am paying you for this.” The hint of a smile returns, and with a softer tone, she adds, “Whether it’s with money or something else.” 

All the blood suddenly rushes to Bucky’s cock and he mentally scolds himself for imagining the most inappropriate ways Sunshine could pay him back.

She’s not flirting.

He’s never been more grateful to be sitting down, and after he casually shifts to hide his growing erection, he focuses on what her words really mean.

How uncomfortable she feels when people do things for her, whether it’s something she needs or not. When he cooks her dinner, she insists on cleaning up. His nice gesture of morning coffee is only allowed because she buys the coffee. Sunshine’s just unable to accept a favor without returning it somehow and there’s no point in pushing the issue right now.

“How about this,” he starts, his forearms resting on his knees, “if you like the pictures, you can decide what the payment should be. If you don’t like ‘em, no problem.”

She hesitates for a moment, mulling it over, her eyes narrowed at him as she probably considers all the scenarios of how this might go (most of which probably border on impossible), before she finally concedes. “Fine. When should we do this?”

“Now.” 

-------------------

“Now?” The word comes out as a squeak, doing nothing to hide her nerves. She wasn’t expecting to do this at all, let alone tonight. Before she can even start to come up with excuses, he’s getting her attention with that stupid grin that makes her heart flutter.

“Yes, now, Sunshine.” She has to resist the urge to look at his mouth, focusing her eyes on a point just above his eyebrows, needing a second to compose herself before his eyes can distract her. “Otherwise, you’ll spend all night worrying about this, wondering what it’s going to be like, how it’s going to turn out, and you’ll barely sleep.”

She pretends that she hates how Bucky knows her so well and closes her mouth, accepting that arguing would be pointless. If she doesn’t let him do this for her right now, she’s going to do exactly what he said. Spend the rest of the night obsessing over every little thing.

It’s almost more enticing. At least then she wouldn’t have the time to go over everything she’s already said during this conversation in excruciating detail. Like how she almost couldn’t hide the flirtation in her voice when she talked about paying him back. What the hell was that?

Shaking the worry from her head, she makes one last ditch effort to postpone this, pointing out, “I don’t have anything to wear.” Are you trying to postpone this or confess more insecurities? 

Only being in the office a couple days a week, she doesn't have anything other than casual attire. Plain t-shirts and loose pants. Nothing that screams headshot appropriate. 

Without missing a beat, Bucky asks, “What about that blazer you wore to that work thing?”

It’s a good thing Bucky’s used to her growing quiet because his words render her speechless. She can’t believe he actually remembers something she wore only once, well over a month ago. Her first thought of how incredibly attractive that is is interrupted by her internal critic, telling her he only remembers because of how ridiculous she looked.

He wouldn’t be wrong. It was too tight, the shirt underneath too bold, the whole outfit screaming look at me. She spent the entire work event uncomfortable and feeling out of place. 

With a shake of her head, and her cheeks growing warm, she tells him, “It doesn’t fit right.”

Bucky makes a noise in the back of his throat like he’s somehow offended by her statement, and it has her rethinking how to get out of this without sharing anymore secrets. But then that smile is back, the one that has just a bit of her insecurities quieting, and he says, “It’s a headshot, Sunshine, so unless you don’t like the way it fits your shoulders, I think you’re good.”

The slight tease in his tone has her rolling her eyes yet again, making them both laugh. He's too good at this.

Letting out a slow breath, she opens her mouth, ready to grasp at straws one final time. Anything to delay him having to see her in the silly outfit.

Bucky beats her to it before she can though, cutting off any forming thought, “Will you please just go put it on? The quicker you do, the quicker you can take it off.”

Well damn. The racy thoughts his tone had her thinking, like ‘is he bossy in bed?’, is suddenly replaced with her imagining him taking pictures of her in various states of undress. 

Never gonna happen.

With her embarrassment starting to grow to astronomical heights, she does what she always does in an awkward situation. 

She pretends Bucky’s proposed solution is fine and leaves him to set up, escaping to her bedroom to silently berate herself for how she can’t seem to control her thoughts. Not that she should be surprised, given how she spends most of her waking moments dealing with some form of intrusive thought.

While she gets dressed, avoiding the mirror the entire time, she goes back to convincing herself she doesn’t want anything other than a friendship with Bucky. It’s simply because she hasn’t had sex in a while and Bucky’s always around. Of course he’s going to pop up in her fantasies, and her dreams, and it’s no surprise she wonders what he’s like in bed. It’s all normal. 

Sure.

She ignores the remaining doubt and finally takes in her reflection in the floor-length mirror secured to the wall. It’s exactly as she remembered it. The annoying way the shirt hugs her torso. The form-fitting blazer making her hips more pronounced. Even the sleeves aren’t as loose as she likes, the fabric clinging to her thick arms.

The pants remain on the hanger in her closet, deciding at the last minute to stick to her sweatpants, even though it does nothing to hide the curve of her stomach. As long as she keeps the blazer opened, she can pretend she doesn’t feel too exposed.

Now, she just has to mentally prepare herself for spending time in Bucky’s bedroom. She’s seen most of his equipment in there, having interrupted him a few times while he was taking self-portraits or pictures of random items for clients, but she hasn’t spent any time in his room.

She’s been avoiding it, and she spends the next several minutes continuing to do exactly that until she starts to worry she’s wasted too much time. With the plan to make a pit-stop in the bathroom, she leaves her bedroom, only to find Bucky not in his bedroom at all.

He’s in the living room, the furniture carefully moved to give him room to set up a space for pictures, and it stops her in her tracks.

Before she can even begin to say anything, he’s making her forget how to breathe, his dazzling smile leaving her without a thought in her head. 

“I figured you’d rather do this out here than cooped up in there.” His camera already in his hand, he gestures to his bedroom, giving her an easygoing shrug. 

After all this time, she’s still not used to how he takes care of her – how he knows her well enough and cares enough to even try. It’s too much to think about, and all she can do is offer him a smile in return, quickly nodding her head in agreement. 

Being in his bedroom would only make her thoughts shift into dangerous territory. It’s much safer out here. This way, she can just be stressed out about getting her picture taken. Something she usually goes out of her way to avoid.

True to who she is, she’s completely awkward at first, unsure of what to do with her hands, holding her breath for unknown reasons, trying not to smile too big or too small. Not to mention, she keeps tugging at her clothes, too aware of her body, the desire to be anywhere but here overpowering everything she does.

Of course, Bucky takes this all in stride, keeping the same relaxed attitude the whole time, giving her instructions while he takes what she’s sure are going to be horrible pictures. Not because of him. She’s seen his work and doesn’t doubt his talent for a moment. It’s the subject (her) she doubts.

She’s so busy being in her head that she doesn’t even realize when Bucky’s verbally guiding her into a pose that doesn’t make sense for a headshot. Her arms out in front of her, palms up. Just as she starts to comprehend what’s happening, he’s handing her a throw pillow from the couch and she breaks into a fit of laughter as he just continues to take pictures. 

Bucky’s fucking with her, in the best way possible. Choosing the best way to get her to stop approaching this like she’s capable of messing it up. He’s asking her to trust him, and even though it scares her more than it probably should, she wants to be able to let go. She wants to let him be in charge without second guessing everything.

After everything he’s shown her, she has no reason to fight it.

It still takes her a few minutes to fully relax, but soon she’s actually having fun, Bucky doing everything he can to keep her laughing and giving him a genuine smile. It also helps that he’s agreed to only show her the pictures after he’s worked through them and added his magic on the computer. Everything else he’ll delete, leaving her with the only copies to do with as she pleases.

She even almost makes it through the whole session without thinking of him as anything more than a friend. She’s just about to mentally applaud herself for it, Bucky asking to hold this one last pose, when it all comes crashing down.

“You have an eyelash,” he tells her, lifting his hand to his own face to indicate where it is, right on the apple of her cheek.

Doing her best to remain in the spot she’s in so as to not mess up the next shot, she makes several attempts to remove the rogue lash, but all she does is manage to rub it closer to her eye, leaving Bucky no choice but to take pity on her. 

Trying to remember to breathe, she watches him slowly approach her, barely processing his soft words of, “Can I…?” as he gestures to her face, seeking permission to touch her. 

For the first time in all the months living together, he’s finally going to touch her. She’s finally going to feel his fingers on her skin. Because he wants to get the eyelash.

Blinking the unwanted thoughts away, she audibly swallows and nods her head, forcing out the word, “sure,” as she suddenly starts to worry that her breath smells the closer he gets. 

And then Bucky smiles at her.

That fantastic smile that makes her forget about all the shit that usually plagues her, and she can’t help but smile back. Even as her heart starts to race in her chest, surely beating loud enough for him to hear, all she can focus on is his face. His captivating blue eyes, the faint freckles along his nose, the softness of his lips.

Just as Bucky’s fingers reach out to remove the eyelash, their eyes meet again and it’s like time stands still. The soft touch of his thumb like a current of electricity throughout her entire body, making her breath catch and warmth to settle in her belly. Fuck.

The moment seems to last forever, Bucky’s bright eyes looking straight into her soul, making her believe that he’s experiencing the same intense connection that she can’t seem to shake. After only a couple seconds, she comes to her senses, reminding herself that they’re just friends and she looks away, raising her gaze to the ceiling so he can safely remove the only reason he’s even touching her right now. 

With the eyelash secure on the tip of Bucky’s finger, he gets her attention one last time, murmuring, “Make a wish.” 

Silently cursing herself, his words send another thrill of excitement rushing through her, her imagination back to running wild, trying to convince her that he’s flirting with her as their eyes meet once again. 

Unable to stop the shuddering breath that leaves her, she tries to disguise it as a soft laugh, shifting her gaze to his finger raised between them, just inches from her mouth. All the places she’s envisioned his fingers, the flash of a new fantasy suddenly pops up, the image of his fingers in her mouth while he fucks her causing her to almost lose her footing.

Jesus Christ. If he hasn’t figured it out, he’s about to. Get it together. 

Turning all her attention back to the lash sitting on Bucky’s fingertip, ready for her to make a wish, she purses her lips and, with a delicate blow, the eyelash flutters away. Buying into the premise, she closes her eyes, repeating the wish in her head, wanting something she’ll probably never have.

To have someone to love, who loves her just as she is, flaws and all.

-------------------

Holy shit.

That’s the only thing repeating in Bucky’s head as he returns to his place a few feet away to take the last couple of pictures, doing his best to remain level-headed, turning on the professional mask so he doesn’t let his excitement slip. 

That small, tiny flicker of hope her felt earlier, wanting to believe that Sunshine was flirting, is suddenly being ignited. The flames being fanned by the way she looked at him and held his gaze, despite how hard eye contact is for her.

The lingering gaze on his face, on his lips, before she realized he had caught her staring. And fuck, the way she blew on his finger. He’d be an idiot to believe there isn’t something between them with the way they looked at each other.

She pulled away first though, signaling her hesitation with even wanting him to know that there might possibly be anything other than a friendship.

No matter how much he wants to find out if there is, to let her know he’s right there with her, Bucky won’t push his luck tonight. He’ll channel all his energy into finishing her photos, needing to give her the final product before she goes to sleep tonight.

His first priority will always be Sunshine's happiness, but the moment those pictures are in her possession, he’s going to welcome all the dirty thoughts and dreams his mind will bring him tonight.

And tomorrow, Bucky’s going to start figuring out a way to approach the subject, ready to find out all about her past relationships and what she’s looking for.

Because if tonight is any indication, he definitely has a chance with her.

---------------------------

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Hot Bucky Summer Masterlist

Main Masterlist

[bisexualiteaa]

Them catching you listening to dirty songs 👀

Feat. John "soap" MacTavish, König, Simon "Ghost" Riley

Smutty suggestive themes 18+

John "Soap" MacTavish

Song: Dick by StarBoi3 feat. Doja cat

- You were both on your way to the gym for a good work out, (gym couple goals) when you'd noticed that one of your wireless earbuds had gone missing, but didn't really think anything of it, thinking you must have dropped one on the way out or accidentally left it at home.

- little did you know, Johnny nabbed it when you weren't looking, ever so curious of what you listened to when you were doing your sets and what music motivated you through your workouts.

- he found it rather normal at first, your usual selection of music playing for a bit, so when it played, he was as caught off guard as a deer in headlights. He was weight lifting when he heard the song play, and damn near dropped the weights when he heard it.

- he looked over at you, watching as you worked out your core and legs, mouthing the words as the main chorus hit, hitting your squats to the beat.

"She made some plans on my dick tonight"

"She not with him tonight, she not with Jim tonight"

"She in the gym tonight"

"Workout in that pussy (Ayy)"

"I'm gettin' ripped tonight"

"R.I.P that pussy (Ayy)"

"I'm goin' in tonight"

- his jaw was slack, watching you mouth the words to such a flithy song with a grin on your face, while at the gym of all places, but you were in your own little world.

- when your eyes met his gaze, you were none the wiser, giggling and waving at him happily as he watched you, thinking he was just checking you out or making sure no one was going to try and play moves on you. How could you be so cute and innocent but such a little demon too?

- he definitely needed to steal your earbuds more often, because afterwards, he made sure you made some plans with his dick that night.

König

Song: 34 + 35 by Ariana Grande

- you were all out at the bar drinking together after a rather rough week when the song came on.

- to start, he knew you could sing, you'd been together since before he joined Task Force 141, what he wasn't expecting was you to sing along to a song like this out in public

"Yeah, we started at midnight, go 'til the sunrise"

"Done at the same time"

"But who's counting the time when we got it for life?"

"I know all your favorite spots"

"We can take it from the top"

"You such a dream come true, true"

"Make a bitch wanna hit snooze, ooh"

"Can you stay up all night?"

"Fuck me 'til the daylight"

"34, 35"

"Can you stay up all night?"

"Fuck me 'til the daylight"

"34, 35"

- you sang the whole thing, making the rest of the guys at the table laugh and cheer you on as you sang, seeing as they'd never heard you sing before, let alone a song like this.

- König however? The second he actually added 34 and 35 together in his head, his face burned red, but the fact that you were singing it? Made it so much hotter, and harder to think with the pictures of you doing those things running rampant through his mind.

- "I think that's your que to take her home" Gaz spoke up with a knowing grin, making you chuckle as you watched König sit frozen and looking at you in disbelief.

- you and your comrades took far too much delight in his shy reaction, but when you two made it back home? You both Subtracted the clothes, he divided your legs and helped you add 34+35.

Simon "Ghost" Riley

Song: The Summoning by Sleep Token

- you were cooking breakfast when the song came on, usually liking to sing and dance to your music as you cooked.

- Simon was just waking up when he smelled what you were making, and he made it half way down the stairs when your music and the sight of you greeted him.

"Oh, and my love"

"Did I mistake you for a sign from God?"

"Or are you really here to cut me off?"

"Or maybe just to turn me on"

"'Cause these days"

"I would be lying if I told you that"

"I didn't wish that I could be your man"

"Or maybe make a good girl bad"

"I've got a river running right into you"

"I've got a blood trail, red in the blue"

"Something you say or something you do"

"The taste of the divine"

- he recognized it instantly from one of your nights of shared carnal passion, remembering how you melted at the way he moved his hips in time to the beat.

- he quietly treaded the rest of the way downstairs, his one hand wrapping around your throat as the other sat at your hip as he came up to you from behind, taking you off guard. But in the best possible way of course.

- "playing your favorite song, I see?" He asked, making you chuckle as he turned you around and kissed you.

- it wasn't long until breakfast was long forgotten, left to get cold as he bent you over the counter after replaying the song, pistoning his hips into you to the beat.

- and while breakfast may have grown cold, you certainly couldn't have been more of the opposite.