#been trying to let it go Trying to keep my eyes closed Trying to keep it just like before The times we never even thought to speak Don&039; | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

reikoinoue · 3 days ago

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♡ tomorrow’s catch-22 ♡

caleb, sylus, xavier, rafayel, zayne

warnings + notes: manipulation, sedation, cnc (consensual nonconsent), read at your own caution ♡

i tried really hard to not write something for this banner, but there's been thoughts brewing in my head, despite me not being interested in obtaining this banner. so, this one is for all of you girlies out there who are super hyped for this event.

this is by no means close to canon, just my personal take on things ♡

radiation, contamination, chaos...

several years ago, an unprecedented disaster plunged this city into a lunatic abyss.

growing, mutating, losing control...

the prisoners in danger have long been excited.

is it deception, or a willing descent? driven mad by the contamination, they are...

"praedators."

the sounds of your footsteps echo throughout the facility as you flipped through the reports on your clipboard, eager to begin your assessment for the 5 praedators. admittedly, the prisoners had an almost wild look to them, further accentuating their masculine beauty. a part of you knew that you should keep your distance and complete your search for their respective activators within the allotted time-

yet still, you couldn’t deny the anticipation that courses through your veins at the thought of interacting with them. smoothing back your uniform, you stand outside the first cell...

[ he is an ambitious politician who is eyeing the entire city. ]

perses, the councilman, meets your gaze while donning a confident smirk, yet you knew that face all too well. he was once your childhood friend known as caleb, a man who once swore to protect you with his life now turned mad due to the contamination the city had succumbed to.

his magenta eyes darkened considerably with hunger now, with him fighting against the restraints placed on his wrists, clearly trying to reach you. he lets out a bark of your name, "this wasn't the reunion i was expecting, pipsqueak."

you maintain a neutral expression, coming closer to caleb as a predatory gleam was seen in his gaze. with each step that you take, you watch as caleb lets out a wince, his breathing turning even more labored, "you're in pain right now, correct? i'm here to help you."

your voice manages to soothe him, calming him enough that your former childhood friend stops fighting against his restraints. getting down on your knees, you caught the way caleb's breath hitches in response, eyes suddenly being eclipsed by darkness at the mere sight of you. as you assessed his body, you saw something glittering, settled on the base of his chest.

your gloved hand reaches out to take the dog tag in your hand, "this necklace i gave you, you still kept it?"

a flash of tenderness was seen in his gaze for a brief moment, but it was gone just seconds later, replaced by a defiance that made your blood boil in response. you grip at the pendant, earning a smirk from caleb, "what are you doing?"

you didn't answer him, choosing instead to shove it within his mouth, earning a grunt from him. "didn't i tell you before that you'd be more attractive if you shut up?" making quick work of examining his body, you trail your hands down his back, feeling him stiffen before letting out a gasp.

you immediately step away from him, feeling your eyes go wide when caleb manages to break apart his constraints, "since you chose to enter this room... you'll take responsibility for what happens next, right?"

you tremble, seeing the growing madness within his gaze as caleb takes slow and deliberate strides closer to you, his smirk growing by the seconds while stating, "what? scared? keep up this act of being all high and mighty, and you'll regret it."

before you could save yourself and escape from the confines of this prison, caleb already grips at your wrists, pinning you against a nearby wall as his fingertips dance around your center, tracing at your inner thigh as a wolfish grin spreads across his devastating features. "the path ahead is treacherous... so why don't we lose ourselves in each other?"

your gasp was quickly swallowed by caleb's searing kiss, with his large hands gripping at your sides as he quickly tears the leather skirt of your uniform off of you, leaving you in your lace panties. a low growl of satisfaction was heard coming from caleb when he kneels before you, sliding off your panties while chuckling at the moisture left in the fabric.

"you've always been needy for me, even now..." not wasting another second, caleb gets down on his knees before pressing his hot lips against your aching cunt, making you cry out to him as you delved your hands into his hair. you felt him slipping his tongue within your slick folds, collecting all of the moisture as your legs trapped him against you.

feeling your release quickly approaching, you arch your back against the wall-

yet before you could even cum within his mouth, caleb pulls away from you, placing a harsh bite against your swollen clit as you nearly cried out in frustration.

"oh, i don't think so... this will be my revenge for you disrespecting me so blatantly within this cell." he hoists your body against the wall once more, sliding down his leather pants as he revealed his cock to you. your mouth salivates at the sight, allowing caleb to spread your legs before impaling you with his cock.

you cling to him, sobbing from how full caleb was making you feel while he fucks you against the wall. he lets out a dark chuckle in response, "what happened to all that courage?" he asks you with another powerful thrust all while letting out a shuddering breath of your name. he hides his face within the curve of your neck while whispering within your ear, "are you doing this out of pity? then... when the night is over... will you stay with me?" he breathes in your scent before biting down against your shoulder, "will you descend into hell with me?"

with the way caleb was making you feel, you found it hard to deny him, knowing that you would follow him anywhere and everywhere with his cock buried so sweetly inside of you.

[ you better have your last words ready before this man knocks on your door. ]

his back was facing you, tartarus, the mysterious assassin, quietly waits within his cell (a cage, fitting for a madman like sylus). you place the clipboard to the side, adjusting your uniform before taking out the ring of keys. finding the correct one, you made quick work of unlocking the cage and stepping inside.

fastening the keys back on your hips, you call out to him, earning a dark chuckle from the madman, "how did it feel to watch me?"

his crimson gaze meets with your neutral expression, and when you take a step forward, sylus immediately began to pull at his restraints in an attempt to grab you, "you scared?"

you shake your head and spoke in even tones, "i'm only here to help you ease your pain. the contamination has already spread through your nerves."

sylus tosses his head back, letting out a harsh laughter, "oh sweetie, your idea of help is heartwarming. why don't you come closer, little bird? help me come outside the cage... come, just a little more."

you remain still, not daring to move an inch closer as you felt a bead of sweat running down your cheek, "when you approach your prey, you must ensure your own safety first. you taught me this, sylus."

“prey…?” sylus remains unfazed, with an almost amused expression painting his features. knowing that you had to swallow your discomfort and fear, you step closer to sylus and walk around his form, assessing his body for any signs of the activator.

you keep your eyes honed in on him, listening to his soft breathing and grunts a little too intently. you stop walking around him, eyes drawn to the middle of his chest when you reach out to him-

only to be stopped when you felt his hands gripping at your wrists, preventing you from touching him. "you...!"

unable to overpower him and reach for your weapon, you visibly panicked when sylus wraps an arm around your front, pressing you against the cage while preventing your escape. you struggle against him momentarily, yet visibly relax when his hands touch at the spot between your legs.

he traps you between his body and the cage, biceps coming around you keep your head locked within it. a whisper of your name (filled with a dark longing) was heard against your ear, and you found yourself powerless to sylus when he reaches down to slide off your leather skirt, managing to free himself from the confines of his own pants as the tip of his cock was felt brushing against your slick walls.

in one, powerful thrust, you were left gasping for him, hands gripping at the bars as sylus moves his cock in and out of you, basking in the way your walls gripped him tightly in response. "ngh, you missed me, didn't you? me and m'cock. you needed this, right?"

your soft mewls echo throughout the cage, making you see stars each time he sheathes his cock back inside of you. a thin trail of saliva manages to escape from your lips, making sylus chuckle when he grabs a hold of your chin, keeping you still before capturing your lips in a searing kiss. he doesn’t stop his rapid thrusts when he hotly whispers within your ear, "now you'll never fly away, my little bird."

and when you could feel his tongue tracing at the shell of your ear, you knew that you were a goner.

[ danger often hides behind the softest eyes and the sharpest fangs. ]

as you step into hermit the ex-enforcer's cell, your eyes were met with an icy gaze filled with contempt. xavier kept pulling at his restraints, trying to get to you. "you tricked me, you trapped me here knowing what would happen...!"

you simply let out a hum in response, not denying his words of accusation as you stepped closer to him. you take a moment to assess his body, nearly jumping back when he violently pulls at his restraints. "why... don't you want to become like me?"

stepping closer to him, you grip at his hair, revealing his neck to you while pressing the tip of your nose against his skin, "relax, i'll let you go once you're back to normal."

xavier was restless when you pull away from him, using the palm of your hands to explore his body, your touch descending upon his muscular abdomen. you felt him inhale sharply, letting out a shuddering breath while telling you, "your hand is warm."

you continue to assess his form, hearing xavier's whispered phrases "do you hate me? do you think i'm a monster?" why did his words sound like he was trying to seduce you? his once icy gaze now darkened considerably with hunger, making your own heart pound rapidly in response. ignoring the familiar ache between your legs, you slowly got down on your knees-

only to see the prominent tent against the front of his pants.

you were left speechless at the sight, licking your lips while hearing xavier let out a series of amused chuckles, "this is your doing, so... what'll you do now?"

with a sigh, you brush back your hair before gripping at the front of his pants, pulling it down in one quick motion. his erection was settled directly in front of your face, lifting your hand to give his cock a harsh stroke.

"ngh!" xavier's groans echo throughout the cell each time you worked on pumping his cock with your hand, "this won't do... looks like i'll need to take care of this before continuing your assessment."

collecting the beads of precum that escapes from his tip, you use it as lubrication, feeling your walls clench with need at the sight. "ah, fuck, my hands are just making you harder. maybe i need to do more drastic measures...?"

relinquishing your hold on his cock, you take a step back and take off your uniform, stepping out of your panties while unclasping your bra. the sight of your nakedness makes xavier's cock grow even harder for you, with it twitching considerably, desperate to be buried inside of you.

stepping closer to xavier, you brace yourself against the chain-linked fence, guiding his cock toward your entrance with your free hand before sliding down on him. you both toss your head back at the sensation of his cock completely sheathed inside of you. you had began setting a slow and steady pace when xavier breaks free of his restraints.

his large hand now grips at your backside, pinning you against the fence as you were subjected to his cock continuously pounding itself in and out of your heat. "do you like that...?" his eyes were clouded with lust just then, rapidly pumping his cock as your breasts bounced in tune to his every movement, "don't be scared..." he tells you while hiding his face within the base of your throat, "it'll be over soon enough... then, you'll never leave me."

each time xavier slides his cock back into you, you found yourself losing all thoughts of coherency, willingly becoming dumb on his cock.

[ a praedator rose from the ashes. the entire city is but a playground at his disposal. ]

you stand outside of tamino's cell, the leader of flowin' fire's eyes glaring into you, as if challenging you to take a step forward and come into his cell-

if you dared to.

rafayel remained calm even as he was captured, not putting much of a fight as he kept repeating your name over and over again, denying anyone else the 'privilege' of assessing him.

so, given little choice, you marched directly towards his cell. upon seeing the determined expression on your face, rafayel gives you a smile.

"why so hesitant, princess? come on inside... have a chat with me."

just find the activator and get out of here. you repeat that single phrase like a mantra, using the master key to enter his cell. shutting the door from behind you, you look down at rafayel, convincing yourself that he was kept in restraints and would have no power over you-

as if sensing your turmoil, rafayel's smirk widens as he began taunting you, "what am i to you? a madman? a monster? or just a pitiful prisoner?"

"that's quite enough," you harshly hiss at him, getting down on your knees while placing a hand on his chin. he lets out a grunt upon feeling the pad of your thumb tracing at his bottom lip before opening it slightly. a flash of annoyance was seen in rafayel's gaze, "you're checking my teeth? there's a muzzle here."

i need to move closer if i want to find that activator. removing yourself from his lips, you stand back to your full height, coming around him as your eyes were focused on the spot hidden behind his long hair. just as you were about to part the strands, rafayel manages to stop you, pulling you directly into his lap. "what's this supposed to be? another plan of yours?"

your eyes go wide with panic, looking down to see that he had already torn apart his restraints and was now holding you against him. letting out a grunt of your name, rafayel frames at your face with his two hands, keeping you still before surging forward, capturing your lips in a searing kiss that takes your very breath away.

you writhe against his embrace, hands pounding against the front of his chest-

but to no avail.

feeling his tongue sweeping across your bottom lip makes you tremble in response, letting out an involuntary moan as you felt his smirk against your lips. "exposing your weakness to a monster... you lost, princess."

a devilish smile paints his expression when he pulls down your skirt and panties in one, swift motion, placing your naked sex against his thigh while whispering sweet nothings within your ear, "you're not allowed to leave me anymore, princess." he whispers hotly to you, dragging your wet cunt across his muscled thigh as you were given little choice but to cling to him.

losing all of your dignity, you eagerly grind your hips against his thighs, riding him while basking in his praise with your needy mewls and moans echoing throughout the cell.

[ nobody gets to walk out of his prison. not when they are alive, at least. ]

you take quick strides into the warden's cell, meeting galen's calm expression as you shut the cell door from behind you.

an unhinged smile spreads across zayne's features, clearly happy at seeing you even in this situation. "ah, so you've decided to come and see me again."

you step forward, pulling out a syringe filled with a glowing, almost deep amber liquid flowing inside of it. recognition flashes within his gaze at the sight of the syringe, "a frenzy enhancer? you're going to use it on me?"

"yes, the warden should be well-aware of how it affects the praedators." you step closer to zayne, watching as he pulls on his restraints while remaining tied to the chair. his eyes blearily met your gaze, allowing you to push his head back while revealing his neck to you. pressing the tip of the syringe against it, you push the thin needle within his skin, earning a low hiss from him as you injected the frenzy enhancer.

once the liquid was gone, you take a step back, tossing aside the syringe while watching him, fascination shining within your eyes. zayne struggles against his restraints, letting out a series of grunts while meeting your gaze, "stop holding yourself back... you need to do this and confront your true self."

he tries once more to break away from his restraints, "i don't know what i'll do to you. what will you do next... since you chose to remain in this cage with me...?"

you were ready to speak when the sound of something ripping apart causes your eyes to widen. now freed from his restraints, you had to run and seek some form of backup-

yet the sensation of powerful arms being wrapped around your waist stops you from moving forward.

"where do you think you're going?" he carries you back with him, settling back against the chair while pulling down his pants, allowing them to pool against his feet before quickly shoving down your skirt and panties.

not even waiting for your response, zayne harshly grips at your hips before forcing you down on his cock, the sensation of it all making you cry out to him. your back was arched against him, allowing the obsessed warden to move your hips up and down his erection. you felt your eyes slowly begin to roll to the back of your head, the squelching sounds of zayne fucking you echoing throughout the cell.

he rests his head against your shoulder, allowing you to bounce yourself on his cock, "you're not allowed to leave as you please anymore... from this point forward, you're mine."

and with how much zayne was filling you up with his cock, reaching places deep inside of you that you didn't even know existed, you fell into his sweet trap, allowing his corruption to spread through you with little resistance.

a.n. - oh mannn do i feel tingly and sinful while writing this 🫠 please excuse this unedited mess, i wrote this in a haze.

all stories are written by reiko; no plagiarizing, reposts, or translations are allowed.

#caleb smut #sylus smut #xavier smut #rafayel smut #zayne smut #caleb x reader #sylus x reader #xavier x reader #rafayel x reader #zayne x reader #caleb x you #sylus x you #xavier x you #rafayel x you #zayne x you #love and deepspace #lads smut #lnds smut #.diary entries

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salemrph · 19 hours ago

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Sleepy morning with Sylus

A/N: While I was reading some other posts yesterday, I came across a user asking what it would be like to wake up next to Sylus. My imagination jumped on it right away! I would say this is more of a headcanon than a fanfic. I focused more how he would experience it. Short write, just because I'm working on other stuff.

Character: Sylus & Reader/MC/you

Genre: romantic, fluffy

Word count: 1,430 | Reading Time: 5 min

Background music

Your laughter echoes through his bedroom as you try to break free from his grip, his breath tickling your skin. His arms are wrapped tightly around you, pressing himself against your naked body. You smell incredible, so intoxicatingly good that waking up next to you must be heaven on earth.

You squirm and kick, already in tears from laughing so hard. He can't get enough of that sound, of the way you smile, the way you close your eyes and lean your head back. Your presence is like a flowerbed in full bloom, vibrant and breathtaking. Blooming in its full splendor.

Whenever he can, he admires you. When you sleep, he counts the moles on your body, tracing them with his fingertips. He caresses the scars you've earned as a fierce Hunter, kissing every natural fold of your skin. His touch follows the curve of your back, the delicate shape of your ass, down to your legs. The same legs that always wrap around him in the intensity of passion.

He loves you, more than he could ever show to you. It wouldn't be enough, ever.

"Sylus—" you gasp between laughs, struggling against him as your muscles start to cramp.

"You have so much energy, kitten" you keep laughing, you are so ticklish this morning. His nose brushes against your neck before he nips at your skin, placing lazy kisses along your shoulder.

You squirm even more, still breathless from laughter. "I will pee myself... Stop!"

He hums against your skin, only tightening his hold. He isn't really awake, he wants to keep sleeping, enjoying the peaceful morning with you. Sylus has worked hard to clear his schedule, to be with you like this. To adapt to your routine, make breakfast, and simply enjoy a normal day at your side.

"Then pee..." he teases.

"Gross! Let go." You protest, thoroughly disgusted by his suggestion.

"Not even in dreams, sweetie" he chuckles while still kissing your shoulder.

"Sy..." you whine. That tone, the way you try to get your way putting that face, that tone in your voice. The one that makes his heart melt no matter how much he tries to resist. He growls, reluctant to release you completely. His grip tightening for a moment before he finally exhales and relaxes.

"Go. You have 2 minutes to come back".

You waste no time jumping out of bed, only to earn a slap on your ass.

"Hey!" You spin around, shooting him a glare. Sylus only smirks.

"I like how it wiggles"

You disappear in the bathroom. Sylus shifts onto his back, crossing both arms behind his head, staring at the ceiling with a rare sense of peace. Yeah… he could get used to this. No, he wants to get used to this. The wealth he possesses and everything he has done has been nothing more than a way to ensure your safety. The years he spent searching for you taught him that he had to be prepared for anything. Losing you again was not in his plans. And if the day ever comes when you no longer love him, it won’t change a thing. He would still protect you, even from the shadows.

He’s so lost in thought that he doesn’t notice you sneaking back into bed. Carefully, you inch closer, suppressing a grin as you reach out to poke his cheek. But before you can even make contact, his hand shoots out, catching your wrist in a firm grip.

"Feeling playful this morning, my love?"

"Just a bit" you smirk. Sylus laughed.

"What do you want to play?" You tilt your head, pausing deliberately as your eyes drift over his bare chest, trailing down to his toned abs. The sheets rest low on his hips, and the way you’re looking at him doesn’t go unnoticed. He knows that look.

With effortless ease, he shifts, pulling you toward him until you land on top of his body.

His fingers brush a stray strand of hair from your face, his touch lingering. The color of your lips is already beautiful, but he loves it even more when they darken after passionate kisses. His lips part slightly, his gaze locked onto yours, mesmerized by the infinite depth of your shining eyes.

You lean in, pressing tender kisses across his face before finally finding his lips. Your entire body relaxes, melting into him. Savoring the slow movement of your mouth. Heat growing in your body. Between you two. The kiss deepens bit by bit, his tongue tracing your lips, later moving beyond, slipping inside, tasting you. You sigh into him, already lost in the spreading feelings of longing.

His hand has already trapped you. One sitting on your back, the other on your ass, keeping you close. He is getting harder by the second. His need for you is growing. The steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath your fingertips grounding you in the moment. There is no rush, no urgency. You have the complete morning and day to melt in each other.

When he finally pulls away, just enough to rest his forehead against yours, his breath is warm against your lips. His eyes flutter shut for a moment as he exhales deeply. This is a dream, he thinks. A damn good dream. And he has no intention of waking up.

One hand moves to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing tenderly over your skin. He doesn’t need to speak; everything he feels is in the way he looks at you, in the way he holds you like you’re something precious. You cover his hand with yours, pressing your cheek into his palm. A faint smile tugs at his lips before he kisses you again.

Sylus takes his time, enjoying how your body reacts to him, the quiet gasps, the way your fingers tangle in his hair. His name escapes your lips in a breathless whisper. He watches you with a quiet intensity, taking in the way you melt under his touch. The space between you disappears, lost in the unhurried way he moves. Once more, your worlds merge, your bodies speaking a language only the two of you understand.

That's how you start the morning: with him, with you, with nothing beyond these four walls mattering. Just the warmth of his skin, the rhythm of your hearts, and the love that neither of you needs to put into words.

#love and deepspace #lads sylus #sylus #sylus x reader #lnds sylus #sylus x you #lads x reader #soft sylus #i love soft sylus #sylus qin #sylus fanfiction #romantic morning #sylus love and deepspace #sylus fluff

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sosa2imagines · 2 days ago

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My girl.

Warning- Soft dark Bucky and Steve, manipulate, spiking drink, planning and kidnapping maybe?, possesiveness, jealousy, 6.6k words.

You tug at the hem of the black dress Natasha had lent you, feeling a little out of your comfort zone but enjoying the way it hugs your curves. Even Thor, your ever-blunt best friend, had taken a moment to whistle in appreciation when he saw you. “Damn, Sweets, if I wasn't already taken...” he'd teased with a wink, earning a playful slap from Wanda.

You laughed, shaking your head, “Thank you, but come on lets go, Natasha is waiting for us!!!”

Now, inside the nightclub, you were mesmerized. The music was pulsing through the air, vibrating under your skin, and the flashing lights created an electric energy that makes it impossible not to get caught up in the atmosphere. Wanda and Thor were already pulling you towards the bar, but your gaze lingers, scanning the crowd.

That’s when you see them.

Two men, both wearing baseball caps, an odd choice in a place like this. One has short blond hair, his face sharp yet friendly even under the dim lighting. But it’s the other one who catches your attention. Dark brown hair falls slightly into his eyes, piercing blue beneath the brim of his cap. He’s leaning against the bar, his expression unreadable, yet there’s something about him... something dark, something intriguing.

You quickly look away when Thor hands you a shot, grinning widely. “To a great night!” he declares. You, Wanda, and Thor clink glasses and down the shots, the burn spreading warmth through your veins. Laughter bubbles out of you, as Natasha joins and drags you to the dance floor, and soon you're lost in the music, swaying and spinning with the beat.

Little do you know, the two guys in the caps were watching you.

The blond one, Steve, nudges his friend with a knowing smirk. “See something you like?”

Bucky’s lips curl at the corner, his eyes never leaving you as you move effortlessly to the music. The lights catch on your skin, your smile lighting up your face in a way that sends a spark through him.

“Yeah,” he murmurs, his voice low and dark. “I do.”

The music pulses through your body, and you let yourself get lost in it, swaying and twirling under the flashing lights. Laughter spills from Wanda and Natasha as they dance beside you, their energy infectious.

But despite the music and the crowd, your thoughts drift back to those two guys.

Curiosity gets the better of you, and you glance back toward where you first saw them, only to find the spot empty.

Your brows furrow slightly. You could’ve sworn they were there...

Before you can finish the thought, some movement catches your eye. They're closer now. Much closer.

The dark-haired one with those piercing blue eyes stands near the edge of the dance floor, his gaze locked onto you like he’s been watching your every move. The blond one leans in to say something to him, but Bucky doesn’t react, his focus entirely on you.

You swallow hard, a strange mix of excitement and nerves fluttering in your chest.

And then it happens, gradually at first. The more you move, the closer they seem to get. Each beat of the music shortens the distance until, before you realize it, there’s a presence behind you.

A warmth at your back.

Your heart stumbles in your chest as you turn, and suddenly, he’s there. The dark-haired stranger stands close, almost too close. The sharp angles of his jawline, the way his eyes pierce right through you, leave you momentarily speechless. Up close, he’s even more devastatingly handsome, and your brain screams at you to keep it together.

He offers you a small, almost sly smile and reaches out, taking your hand in his. His grip is firm but gentle, sending an unexpected thrill down your spine.

“I'm Bucky.” he says, his voice deep and smooth, laced with something that makes your breath hitch.

You blink, trying to ground yourself, “Y/n…” you manage, feeling warmth rise to your cheeks as you force yourself to meet his intense gaze.

The moment lingers, and with a shy smile, you turn back to Wanda and Natasha, hoping to gather your scattered thoughts. They’re both watching with matching grins, their expressions practically screaming “we saw that.” Your cheeks heat further, and you shake your head, laughing nervously.

It isn’t until you try to raise both hands to gesture at them that you realize something.

Bucky was still holding your hand.

Your eyes flick down in surprise, and when you look back up, there’s an unmistakable glint of amusement in his gaze. He gives your hand a light squeeze, as if testing whether you'll pull away.

You don’t.

Bucky tugs lightly at your hand, a silent invitation to follow him. Just as your feet begin to move, a familiar voice cuts through the music.

“Whoa, whoa, where do you think you're going?”

You turn to find Thor standing there, arms crossed and an amused yet protective look on his face. His gaze flickers to Bucky, sizing him up with that big-brother energy you’ve grown used to.

“Just to the bar.” Bucky says smoothly, but there's an edge to it, like he's not used to being questioned.

You introduce Bucky and Thor to each other.

Thor’s eyes narrow slightly, looking at Bucky, before turning to you. “Stay where I can see you, yeah?” His voice is light, but you know he’s serious.

You roll your eyes with a playful smile. “Yes, Dad!”

Satisfied, Thor gives Bucky one last look before heading back to Wanda and Natasha, who are too busy dancing and whispering to each other to notice much.

You finally let Bucky lead you through the crowd, feeling the warmth of his grip as he weaves effortlessly through the pulsing bodies. The bar is busy, but he navigates it like he’s been here a hundred times before.

“This is Steve…” Bucky says, nodding toward the blond guy in the cap you noticed earlier.

Steve offers a friendly smile, his blue eyes warm. “Nice to meet you.” he says, tipping his drink slightly in greeting.

“You too…” you reply, offering a small smile.

Bucky leans in a little closer, his voice low against your ear. “What’ll you have?”

You wave him off, feeling a little awkward under his gaze. “Oh, I’m good.”

Bucky raises an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed with your answer. “C’mon, something.”

You glance around nervously, then mumble, “Uh… orange juice?”

The moment the words leave your mouth, you regret it. Your brain practically screams at you, “Who on earth orders orange juice in a nightclub?”

Steve stifles a laugh behind his drink, and Bucky just smirks, his eyes glinting with something you can’t quite place. “Orange juice, huh?” he muses, signaling the bartender. “Classy.”

You groan, covering your face for a second, “I panicked, okay?”

Bucky chuckles, leaning a little closer, “Don’t worry, doll. I like classy.”

Your heart does an embarrassing little flip at the nickname, and before you can come up with a response, he hands you the drink. The way his fingers brush yours sends a spark of warmth up your arm.

Before you can sip, Bucky’s hand returns to yours, leading you further away from the crowded bar area. You find yourself in a quieter corner of the club, where some people are lounging, some are smoking, and the music feels a little more distant.

Your nerves kick in again, but Bucky’s presence is oddly steadying. His gaze never leaves you, like he’s figuring you out piece by piece.

“So,” he says, leaning against the wall, “what’s a girl like you doing in a place like this?”

You take a tiny sip of your orange juice, trying not to cringe. “Apparently... making excellent drink choices.”

Bucky laughs, and you realize then how soft his smile can be despite the dark edge lingering beneath it.

You glance around the dimly lit corner of the club, your fingers tracing the cold glass of your orange juice. The air here feels heavier, laced with smoke and whispers of conversations that don’t quite reach you. Bucky stands close, his eyes never leaving your face as if he’s studying every flicker of emotion.

“Do you smoke?” he asks suddenly, his voice low and rough, cutting through the haze around you.

You shake your head, offering him a small smile. “No, not really my thing.”

He nods, then tilts his head. “Mind if I do?”

You glance at him, the way he stands with such quiet confidence, and shrug. “I don’t mind.”

With a smirk, he pulls out a cigarette and lights it with practiced ease, taking a slow drag before exhaling the smoke in a way that somehow makes your heart stumble. The glow of the cigarette highlights the sharpness of his features, casting shadows across his jaw.

You find yourself mesmerized…again.

And then, in that same soft, dangerous voice, he says it.

“You’re my girl now,” he murmurs, his eyes cutting through the smoke to meet yours. “If anyone comes near you... I’ll fucking kill them!”

Your breath catches, and for a split second, your mind flashes to your ex. He never said anything like that to you. Not once. Your brain screams at you to stop thinking about him, to stay in the present, but it’s too late. The comparison lingers.

You shake it off, letting out a soft laugh, trying to lighten the mood. “Is that so?” you tease, tilting your head. “Then prove it.”

Bucky’s lips curve in a way that makes something tighten in your chest. Without another word, he takes your hand, still warm from before and leads you back toward the bar. The music grows louder again, pulsing around you like a heartbeat, and just as you start to feel the weight of his words settle in, Thor intercepts you.

“Alright, sweets” Thor grins, grabbing your hand before Bucky can react. “Time to dance.”

You throw a quick glance over your shoulder at Bucky, but Thor’s already twirling you into the crowd. Wanda and Natasha cheer, and soon you're moving with them, laughing and letting the music wash over you.

But it doesn’t last long.

Before you know it, a familiar grip wraps around your wrist, not gentle this time. Firm, almost painfully tight. Bucky. He doesn’t say anything as he pulls you away, but the intensity in his hold is enough to make your heart race for a different reason. He’s not asking. He’s taking.

You barely manage to throw Wanda a glance before you’re dragged through the crowd again, your feet struggling to keep up with his pace. The air between you thickens, and it finally hits you. You’re not just his girl now.

Bucky Barnes is possessive about his girl.

Your skin tingles under his touch, and for the first time tonight, a little voice in the back of your mind wonders just how deep that possessiveness runs.

You don’t notice the way Steve watches from the sidelines, a slow smirk tugging at his lips, as if he knows exactly what’s going on inside Bucky’s head. As if he’s seen it all before.

Bucky’s grip on your hand loosens as he finally stops, and when you look up at him, expecting to see the same intense expression from moments ago, you’re met with something entirely different.

A soft smile.

It’s disarming, almost as if the possessiveness he showed just seconds ago never happened. His blue eyes are calm now, gentle even, and it throws you off balance. You’re not sure how to react. Should you call him out? Ask what that was about? Or just... let it go?

Your heart is still racing from how easily he dragged you away, but before you can decide what to say, Steve steps closer, and Bucky turns his attention to him. Their conversation is low, their words blending into the pulsing music, and for a moment, you’re left standing there, trying to process everything.

Meanwhile, back at the dancefloor, Thor is anything but calm.

“I don’t like it,” he says, eyes narrowing as he watches you with Bucky from across the room. “I don’t trust his intentions.”

Natasha, ever the observant one, nods in agreement. “Did you see how he pulled her away? That wasn’t... normal.”

Wanda, though quieter, presses her lips together in concern. “Y/n didn’t seem to mind too much, though.”

Thor lets out a frustrated sigh. “That’s the problem. Guys like him? They have a way of making it feel like it’s okay... until it’s not.”

Natasha’s eyes darken slightly, and she exchanges a knowing glance with Wanda. “We need to step in before this goes any further.”

Wanda nods. “I have an idea.”

Before long, Natasha and Wanda are weaving through the crowd toward you. You’re still standing with Bucky and Steve when they reach you, their smiles bright but calculated.

“We’re just gonna steal her for a sec!” Natasha says smoothly, looping an arm around yours before Bucky can protest.

Bucky’s jaw twitches slightly, but he nods, letting them take you. “Don’t take too long.”

You let them pull you away toward the restrooms, barely registering the way Bucky’s gaze lingers on you as you disappear into the crowd.

Inside, Natasha closes the door behind you, and Wanda immediately turns to you, her eyes full of concern. “Alright, spill. Are you okay?”

You blink, caught off guard. “Yeah, of course. Why wouldn’t I be?”

Natasha raises an eyebrow. “Sweetheart, he dragged you off the dancefloor!”

You let out a nervous laugh, rubbing the back of your neck. “Okay, yeah, that was... intense. But he’s…I don’t know, it’s weird. He’s intense but then... soft?” You groan, pacing a little. “And I’m not even drunk, so I can’t blame it on that, but part of me just... wants to be around him.”

Wanda’s eyes soften. “You sure it’s not just the mystery?”

You sigh, leaning against the counter. “Maybe? I don’t know. But I’m fine. Really.”

Natasha exchanges a look with Wanda, not entirely convinced. “Just... be careful, alright?”

Meanwhile, outside the restroom, Steve watches as Bucky takes another slow drag of his cigarette, his eyes fixed on the door you disappeared through.

Steve sighs. “Buck, you gotta calm down.”

Bucky doesn’t answer immediately. He exhales smoke slowly, his eyes still on the door. “She’s mine.”

Steve shakes his head, crossing his arms. “You barely know her.”

Bucky finally looks at him, and for a brief moment, there’s something dark in his expression. “I know enough.”

Steve watches Bucky carefully, noting the way his jaw tenses as he stares at the restroom door. The silence between them stretches until Steve finally breaks it.

“What’s going on in that head of yours, Buck?” he asks, his voice low but firm. “What’s the plan here?”

Bucky flicks the ashes from his cigarette, his lips pressing into a thin line. “She’s mine.” he says simply, as if that alone explains everything.

Steve raises an eyebrow. “And?”

Bucky’s eyes remain fixed on the restroom door, his expression unreadable. “I’m not gonna rush it. She’ll come to me.”

Steve lets out a quiet chuckle, shaking his head. “And if she doesn’t?”

A smirk tugs at the corner of Bucky’s lips. “She will.” His voice is full of quiet certainty. “We wait. We watch.”

Before Steve can respond, the restroom door swings open, and you step out with Wanda and Natasha. You look more composed now, but your eyes instinctively search for Bucky. When you find him leaning against the wall, his gaze unreadable, something inside you twists unexpectedly.

Before you can take a step in his direction, Thor is suddenly at your side. “C’mon, sweets…” he says, slinging an arm around your shoulder and leading you straight back to the dance floor. His grip is firm but not overbearing, a silent reminder that he’s keeping you close. Wanda and Natasha follow, shooting Bucky a subtle glance.

Bucky watches, his expression darkening as Thor keeps you firmly within the group, away from him. His fingers tighten around his cigarette before he flicks it to the ground and grinds it under his boot. He doesn’t take his eyes off you, but he makes no move to come closer. Instead, he leans back against the wall, arms crossed, his attention shifting to Steve.

“What’s the plan now?” Steve asks, watching Bucky carefully.

Bucky’s lips curl into a slow, almost dangerous smirk. “Wait and watch.”

Steve nods knowingly. “You’re playing the long game, huh?”

Bucky’s eyes follow you as you laugh at something Thor says, but there’s a flicker of something in your expression, something almost hesitant. “She’ll come to me,” Bucky murmurs, as if it’s inevitable. “She’ll start missing me soon enough.”

And maybe he’s right. Because as you dance with your friends, trying to enjoy yourself, you can’t help but steal glances in his direction. Every time you do, he’s already looking away, ignoring you as if you don’t exist.

And for some reason, that stings.

You know you shouldn’t feel this way. Thor and the others are just looking out for you, making sure you’re safe. But there’s something about Bucky’s sudden coldness that unsettles you. You can’t explain it, but a small part of you feels... bad.

Kindness.

It’s one of your biggest weaknesses. Your friends adore that about you, but they also know it makes you vulnerable. People can take advantage of it.

And as much as you try to shake it off, that little voice in your head wonders if Bucky is counting on that very thing.

You sway half-heartedly to the music, but your mind isn't on the beat or the flashing lights. Your eyes keep drifting to where Bucky and Steve are standing, and every time you see Bucky deliberately looking away, something inside you twists.

Natasha nudges you gently. “Sweets, stop.”

You blink, pulling your gaze away. “Stop what?”

“Being you!” Wanda chimes in with a teasing yet serious look. “You’re too kind. You always feel bad when you shouldn’t.”

Natasha nods in agreement, crossing her arms. “Kindness is great, but not when it keeps you up at night worrying about people who don’t deserve it.”

You sigh, running a hand through your hair. “I can’t just switch it off, Nat.”

Natasha rolls her eyes but smiles knowingly. “Yeah, yeah, we know. Doesn’t mean we won’t try.”

They both mean well, and you know they’re right. But it’s easier said than done. Your kindness is part of who you are, for better or worse. And right now, it’s gnawing at you, making it impossible to focus on anything else.

Meanwhile, across the club, Steve watches you carefully before turning to Bucky. “She’s getting restless,” he says, sipping his drink. “You counting on that?”

Bucky smirks, tapping his fingers against the table. “Of course, I am.”

Steve exhales slowly, leaning in slightly. “Why her, Buck? There’s plenty of girls here tonight. Hell, there have been plenty of girls before her. What makes this one different?”

Bucky's smirk deepens, his eyes flickering with something unreadable. “She’s not like them,” he says simply. “She’s got... a softness. But not weak. She’s got fight in her too.” He pauses, his gaze locking onto you from across the room for the briefest moment before he looks away again. “And she doesn’t even realize it.”

Steve shakes his head with a knowing chuckle. “You’re obsessed.”

Bucky’s smirk fades slightly, replaced by something more dangerous. “I don’t do half-measures, Steve.”

Steve leans back, watching Bucky with careful eyes. “Yeah... I know.”

Back on the dancefloor, Thor notices the way you keep sneaking glances in Bucky’s direction, the way your shoulders sag with indecision. With a heavy sigh, he leans down, his voice gentle but firm.

“Alright, doll,” he says, using the nickname Bucky had claimed as his own. “Go.”

You blink up at him in surprise. “What?”

Thor gives you a knowing look. “Go back to him. But stay where I can see you.”

A wave of relief washes over you, and you can’t help but smile. “Thanks, Thor.”

He ruffles your hair playfully. “Just don’t make me regret it, yeah?”

With a nod, you turn and make your way back toward Bucky and Steve, your heart pounding with anticipation. You don’t notice the way Bucky’s lips twitch as he watches you approach, like he knew this moment was inevitable.

Steve watches you approach with a knowing smile, nudging Bucky slightly with his elbow. “Told you…” he mutters, amusement dancing in his voice.

Bucky doesn’t respond. Instead, he leans against the bar, his expression unreadable as you finally reach him.

You stand there for a moment, waiting for him to say something, anything. But he doesn’t. He doesn't even look at you.

“Hey…” you say softly, but he doesn’t react.

You clear your throat and try again, a little louder this time. “Bucky?”

Still nothing.

Frustration bubbles up inside you, but you push it down, giving it one last shot. “Are you seriously going to ignore me all night?”

Silence.

Something sharp twists in your chest, and with a sigh, you take a step back. “Fine,” you say, your voice steady despite the sting of disappointment. “If you don’t want me here, I’ll go. I’ll leave you alone, just like you want.”

Before you can turn away, his hand shoots out, wrapping around your wrist. The grip is firm but not rough but possessive, in a way that sends a shiver down your spine.

“I don’t like being ignored.” he says, his voice low and dark, his blue eyes locking onto yours.

Your breath catches in your throat. “I wasn’t ignoring you…” you murmur, suddenly feeling the heat of his touch.

His lips twitch into something that’s almost a smirk. “Apologize.”

You blink up at him, your heart racing. “I…what?”

“Apologize,” he repeats, his thumb brushing lightly against your wrist.

You roll your eyes, but there’s no real bite to it. “Fine. Sorry, Bucky.”

Satisfied, he tugs you closer and starts leading you toward the dancefloor. You don’t resist, letting him pull you into the crowd. The music pulses around you, and before you can fully register what’s happening, his hands find your waist, drawing you flush against him.

There’s no space. None. His body is pressed firmly against yours, and your heart pounds wildly in your chest. The heat between you both is undeniable, and your mind is racing, screaming at you to think straight, but it’s impossible with him this close.

“Relax…” Bucky murmurs near your ear, his breath warm against your skin.

You try, but it’s impossible. His hands grip your hips, guiding you in sync with his movements, slow and deliberate. Your skin tingles under his touch, and every time your body brushes against his, your pulse spikes.

After a few moments, he leans down, his lips ghosting over your ear. “I wanna do something for you.”

You swallow hard, shaking your head slightly. “Bucky, there’s no need for that.”

He grins, and the playful banter begins. “I didn’t ask if there was a need.”

“Seriously, it’s fine.”

“Let me.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

And then, without warning, he silences you the only way he knows how.

His lips crash against yours, stealing your breath and every coherent thought in your head. The kiss is firm, confident, and leaves no room for argument. Your hands instinctively find his chest, fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt.

When he finally pulls away, his blue eyes flicker with mischief, and he winks at you. “Told you I’d do something for you.”

You’re left standing there, breathless and stunned, as the music pulses around you, but all you can focus on is him…just him.

Bucky leads you through the crowd, weaving past dancing bodies and flashing lights until you reach a secluded corner of the club. The music is quieter here, the atmosphere darker, more intimate. You stand close, the space between you charged with something you can't quite name.

For a while, neither of you say anything. You shift awkwardly under his intense gaze, biting your lip as you wait for him to speak first. Eventually, he does.

“I like you.”

The words are so simple, so unexpected, that they make you laugh. “Really?” you tease, arching an eyebrow. “Just like that?”

Instead of answering, Bucky takes a step back and, to your horror, cups his hands around his mouth and shouts, “I like her!”

Heads turn, eyes land on you both, and you feel heat rush to your cheeks as you frantically reach for him. “Bucky! Shut up!” You hiss, tugging at his arm.

He grins, utterly unapologetic, and takes it a step further. “I REALLY LIKE HER!!!!”

You slap a hand over his mouth, eyes wide in mortification. “Okay! Okay, I believe you! Just be quiet, you goof.”

Bucky chuckles against your palm, his eyes twinkling with mischief. Slowly, you lower your hand, and before you can say another word, he kisses you again.

This time, it's slower, deeper, less about teasing and more about something real. Your hands instinctively find their way to his chest, your palm resting over his heart. You can feel the steady, strong rhythm beneath your touch, and it does something to you. A soft sigh escapes you, and Bucky’s lips curve into a smile against yours.

When he finally pulls back, he presses his forehead against yours. “Come with me…” he murmurs, his fingers brushing against your waist.

Your heart skips a beat, but reality crashes in just as quickly. “I can’t…” you whisper, shaking your head. “I came here with my friends. Thor won’t let me just disappear.”

Bucky’s jaw tightens, and for a split second, there’s something dangerous flickering behind his eyes. “I don’t take no for an answer, doll.”

Before you can protest, his lips are on yours again, stealing your breath, your words, your logic. You feel his arm tighten around your waist, holding you close, keeping you in his orbit.

What you don’t see is the way he locks eyes with Steve over your shoulder. There’s a silent exchange, a plan forming without words. Steve nods subtly, a smirk tugging at his lips as if he knows exactly what Bucky is thinking.

You’re too lost in the kiss to notice.

You try to pull away, your hands pressing lightly against Bucky’s chest, but he doesn’t let you go. Instead, he tilts his head, a playful yet dangerous glint in his blue eyes. “You think I’m stupid, don’t you?” he says, his voice low and laced with something that makes your stomach twist.

Your eyes widen in surprise. “What? No, of course not!”

Bucky hums, unconvinced, his thumb tracing lazy circles on your waist. “Then why won’t you come with me? You think I can’t take care of you?”

The guilt hits you like a truck, and you immediately shake your head, your voice softer now. “Bucky, that’s not it at all. It’s just… my friends. Thor won’t let me go that easily, and I don’t want to worry them.”

Bucky stares at you for a beat, then his lips curl into a smile, his hands sliding up to cup your face. He leans in, his forehead resting against yours, and makes a face, his eyes wide, mouth open like he’s about to devour you whole.

You burst into laughter, swatting at his chest. “Stop that, you’re ridiculous!”

He grins, his thumbs gently stroking your cheeks. “But you love it,” he teases.

Your laughter fades into a soft smile, and for a moment, you forget everything else. But what you don’t see is the way Bucky’s eyes flick over your shoulder, locking onto Steve.

Behind your back, Steve nods, the plan silently set into motion.

And just like that, you’re already one step closer to exactly where Bucky wants you.

Just as you’re starting to relax in Bucky’s hold, a familiar voice cuts through the moment.

“There you are!” Wanda’s voice is laced with amusement and just a hint of suspicion. She strides over, her eyes flickering between you and Bucky with a knowing smirk. “Come on, we’re not letting you disappear just yet.”

You sigh, reluctantly stepping back, but Bucky doesn’t let you go so easily. His hand stays wrapped around your wrist, and he tilts his head at you with a playful pout. “You really think I’m stupid, don’t you?”

You blink in confusion. “What?”

He leans in, voice dripping with faux hurt. “That’s why you’re not coming with me. You think I’m some idiot who can’t handle Thor.”

Wanda laughs, crossing her arms. “It’s not about you, Barnes. Thor’s just… let’s say, protective about his friends.” She glances at you. “Right, dear?”

You nod quickly, grateful for Wanda’s backup. “Exactly. I don’t want to cause drama.”

Bucky smirks, but there’s something sharp beneath it, something calculating. “Drama? Doll, I’m all about drama.”

You roll your eyes, about to respond when Wanda grabs your hand. “Come on, let’s go.”

Just as you turn to leave, something shifts in the air. Steve, who had been lingering nearby, subtly moves into position, blocking Thor and Natasha’s view of you both. The timing is perfect.

Bucky doesn’t let go of your wrist. Instead, he pulls you back suddenly, spinning you right into him. “Not so fast…” he murmurs, his breath warm against your ear.

Your heart stutters in your chest, but before you can process what’s happening, Steve casually bumps into Wanda with a distracted, “Sorry, miss.” causing her to stumble and momentarily break her grip on your hand.

In that split second of distraction, Bucky tugs you further into the crowd, his grip firm but playful, as if daring you to resist.

“Bucky…” you start, but his grin is all you get in response.

Steve watches from a distance, arms crossed and an amused look on his face. The plan was working.

And deep down, despite the warnings ringing in your head, you don’t really want to stop him.

“Bucky, what are you doing?” you whisper, breathless as he pulls you deeper into the crowd. The flashing lights dance across his face, highlighting the mischief in his blue eyes.

Instead of answering, he leans in and kisses you. Soft at first, teasing, before deepening it with a possessive edge that makes your knees weak. Your hands instinctively grip his shoulders to steady yourself, but your mind is screaming at you to get back to Wanda and Thor.

When he finally pulls away, his lips brush against yours as he murmurs, “Still wanna leave?”

You swallow hard, forcing yourself to regain control. “I have to go…” you insist, your voice lacking the conviction you wish it had. “Wanda and Thor are looking for me.”

Bucky’s grip tightens just slightly, his fingers tracing over your wrist. “Stay.” he says simply, like it’s the easiest thing in the world.

You shake your head, trying to find your footing in this whirlwind. “Bucky, I can’t just…”

He tilts his head, watching you closely, and then with that signature smirk, he says, “Just for a little while. We’ll stay in the club, I promise.”

Your resolve wavers, the intensity in his gaze making it impossible to think straight. After a moment, you sigh in defeat. “Fine. Only in the club.”

Bucky’s lips twitch in victory. “Good girl.”

But what you don’t realize is that Bucky’s promise means nothing, not when he’s already made up his mind. While you’re distracted, his eyes flick over your shoulder to where Steve stands near the bar. A single nod passes between them, silent and calculated.

You may think you’re staying, but Bucky has other plans.

Just as you begin to relax in Bucky’s presence, the music pounding in your chest like a second heartbeat, a familiar voice cuts through the haze.

“There you are,” Thor’s deep voice rumbles from behind you. His expression is firm but not unkind as he reaches for your arm. “It’s time to go home, Sweets.”

You glance up at Bucky, feeling the tension in the air shift. For a second, you consider arguing, just a little, but something about the way Thor is looking at you makes you nod instead. “Alright, you say softly.

Bucky’s jaw tenses, but he doesn’t stop you. Not yet.

Just as you turn to follow Thor, Bucky appears at your side, holding out two glasses. “One for the road?” he offers, his voice smooth, his smile disarming. He hands one glass to Thor and one to you.

Thor eyes Bucky suspiciously before taking a sip. You hesitate for a moment, but under Bucky’s expectant gaze, you take a small sip too.

Before you know it, Bucky has his hand on your lower back, steering you gently away from the dancefloor. “C’mon, just for a second,” he says, his voice low and persuasive. “One last moment before you run off.”

You follow him, oblivious to the subtle exchange of glances between him and Steve.

The club lights flash around you, and you’re too caught up in the conversation to notice Thor’s steps faltering behind you. Steve quietly steps in, keeping Thor distracted just long enough for Bucky to guide you further away.

It isn’t until you reach the quieter edge of the club, near the exit, that you realize something is off.

“Bucky,” you say, blinking as you look around. “Where are we going?”

Bucky smirks, his hand firm around yours. “Told you, doll. I don’t take no for an answer.”

Panic rises in your chest, and you yank your hand away, taking a step back. “I have to go back to my friends.”

Bucky doesn’t let you get far. He grabs your wrist again, his grip just tight enough to make your heart race for an entirely different reason. “Apologize,” he says, his voice lower now, laced with something darker. “For trying to leave me.”

Your pulse hammers in your ears, and suddenly, the warmth in his eyes seems a little more dangerous. “Bucky…” you whisper, trying to pull free, but he refuses to let go.

Behind you, Steve stands with his arms crossed, his smirk never fading. He knows exactly how this will play out.

Your heart pounds as you take a step back from Bucky, trying to create some distance, but you don't get far. Your back collides with something solid, someone solid.

Steve.

His arms snake around your waist, holding you firmly against him. You freeze as he rests his chin lightly on top of your head, his breath fanning over your hair. The casual intimacy of the gesture makes your stomach twist, and you can feel the smug satisfaction radiating off him.

Bucky watches the scene unfold with a lazy smile, his eyes dark with amusement. “Relax, doll,” he murmurs, stepping closer. “I already told you, you’re my girl now.”

You shake your head, your voice shaky but firm. “Bucky, you promised. You said we’d stay in the club.”

Bucky’s grin widens, his fingers reaching out to brush against your cheek. “Yeah, well... there’s been a slight change in the promise.”

You stiffen, your mind racing. Steve's arms tighten subtly, his hold secure but not forceful. Yet.

It’s clear he’s enjoying this, the way his body presses against yours, his voice a low murmur in your ear. “You’re way too tense,” he says with a chuckle. “Loosen up, doll.”

You swallow hard, trying to keep your voice steady. “Thor will come looking for me...”

Bucky’s expression softens into something almost pitying. “Thor?” He tilts his head. “Sweetheart, he won’t be coming for you.”

Your brows furrow. “What do you mean?”

Steve chuckles from behind you, his grip tightening just slightly as if to keep you in place. “Let’s just say... he’s taking a nap.”

Your stomach drops. “What did you do?”

Bucky waves a dismissive hand. “Nothing too bad, doll. He’s fine. Just a little... distracted.” His smirk deepens. “That means it’s just us now.”

Your pulse races as realization sinks in. They had planned this from the beginning.

Steve finally releases you, only to grab your hand with a firm grip, and Bucky takes your other hand, his thumb stroking over your skin in a way that feels both soothing and possessive. Together, they lead you toward the exit.

You glance back over your shoulder, searching for a way out, for Wanda, Natasha, anyone, but the crowd of strangers swallows the dancefloor whole, and just like that, you’re outside.

Under the cool night air, Bucky leans in, his lips grazing your ear. “Told you, doll. No one’s taking you from me. You are my girl now!”

Taglist- @imyourbratzdoll @blackhawkfanatic @ordelixx @sapphirebarnes @ilovetaquitosmmmm

@differenttyphoonwerewolf @vicmc624 @thezombieprostitute @nekoannie-chan

@mrvl-addict @mercurial-chuckles

@emerald-writes @caplanbuckybarnes

@redbloodedgurl @cjand10 @chemtrails-club @slutforchrisjamalevans @gracescor3

@ghostlythinggoingaround @princezzjasmine @3xclusivemariii @ephemeral-oasis @zuri-767-666

@geeky-politics-46 @dexter99 @calwitch

@caplanreblogsfics @winterslove1917

@pono-pura-vida @renegadesgirl1991 @iwudbutnah @ghalouha @sebastians-love @saranghaey @greatmistakes @baw1066

@bucks-babe @lolzies123r @kandis-mom @purplecolordeer @avioletkurt

@pattiemac1 @lovely-geek @hzdhrtss @kpopgirlbtssvt

217 notes · View notes

marifilue · 20 hours ago

Text

Gravity

Wordcount: 651

Tags: Fluffs, established relationship

Pairing: Logan Howlett x GF!Reader (no use of y/n)

Oneshot: Logan being touch starved but never admit it

Logan is touch-starved—always has been, always will be. He’d never say it out loud, wouldn’t even entertain the thought, but you can always catch it in the smallest gestures.

He’d never ask you to lay on top of him, curled up in his arms. Never said those words in that order before. But once you’re there, he won’t let you go. His arm stays locked around your back, firm, unmoving. Try to shift, and he grumbles low—“Where you goin’?” or “Nah, not done yet.” Like it’s nothing. Like he doesn’t need this.

Sometimes, he won’t let you up for reasons that only make sense to him—like if someone’s knocking on the door. But if you need water or a bathroom break? That, he allows.

You’d been watching some show for hours when Logan finally came home. He didn’t say anything, just sank onto the couch beside you, wearing nothing but his white tank top and jeans. The scent of cigar smoke and leather clung to him, familiar and grounding. His thigh pressed against yours as he settled in.

He glanced at you briefly, then back at the screen, fingers twitching against his knee.

"You alright?" you asked, biting back a knowing smile.

"Yeah," he hummed, flicking his gaze to you again before shifting slightly. Slowly, his left arm lifted to rest along the back of the couch—an invitation. A silent request.

Normally, you’d give in without hesitation, but tonight, you felt like making him work for it.

"How was the meeting?" you asked, feigning obliviousness as you kept your attention on the screen.

"Long. Exhaustin’." His voice was rough, but you caught the flicker of impatience in his tone.

"Aww I'm sorry to hear that." You said in faux empathy.

His fingers found the hem of your T-shirt, idly toying with the fabric, tugging just enough to be noticeable.

"You like my shirt?" you teased.

Logan huffed, his fingers tightening ever so slightly. "Stop messin’ with me."

Oh, the look on his face—priceless. You burst into laughter, and his frown deepened.

"What’s so funny?"

"I just think it’s cute that you want to cuddle. Just ask, Logan." You nudged him playfully.

His smirk was slow, deliberate. "Dunno what you’re talkin’ about. I don’t cuddle."

"Oh, really?" You turned to face him, eyes glinting with mischief. "So if I just do this…"

With a playful push, you sent him backward until his head hit the armrest. Before he could protest, you climbed on top of him, pressing your ear against his chest, where his heartbeat thudded steady and strong.

"You wouldn’t mind, right? Since you don’t cuddle," you teased, grinning.

Logan exhaled deeply, his hand slipping beneath your shirt, cool palm pressing flat against your back, fingers splayed as if grounding himself. His breath ruffled your hair, and when he spoke, his voice was a low rumble against your cheek.

"Guess I can tolerate it."

You tried to focus on the TV, but the steady rise and fall of his chest beneath you made it impossible. His arm tightened, just enough to keep you there—his personal human blanket, small against him, yet somehow the only thing holding him together.

Minutes passed, the room sinking into an easy, quiet warmth. Logan's breathing slowed, the tension in his body melting bit by bit as he relaxed beneath you. His other hand found your side, fingers tracing absent patterns against your ribs, lazy and unhurried.

"You’re warm," he muttered, half into your hair, voice thick with exhaustion.

"You’re comfy," you murmured back, smiling as you closed your eyes.

His chest vibrated with something close to a chuckle, but he said nothing. Just held you, hands never still, always lingering—at your back, your side, your hip, like he needed constant proof you were there.

And, well… you weren’t about to go anywhere. Not when he clung to you like a lifeline, like you were the only force keeping him steady in this world.

His gravity.

#logan howlet x reader #logan howlett fanfiction #logan howlett #wolverine fanfiction #wolverine x reader #x men #wolverine #xmen fanfiction

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arayapendragon · 2 days ago

Text

how i shift 🦉

it took me years of experimenting, trial and error to realize i don’t need methods, subliminals and guided meditations to shift. while i do agree that these tools can help you shift, because they do work for many people, my recent experiences have helped me understand that all you truly need to shift is yourself, nothing else. and nothing can ever change that.

you simply need to have an awareness, which you obviously do ahahaha. to shift, you just need to align that awareness to your desired reality. here’s how i do it:

i decide where i want to shift to, and think about that reality for a while

i acknowledge the fact that my desired reality exists somewhere in the multiverse, and that it is possible to become aware of it

i embrace a “fuck it, whatever happens, happens” mindset and let go. i detach from the outcome (to shift)

i become equally open to both waking up in my cr and waking up in my dr. i put neither event above the other, i am okay with either of them happening. if i shift, that’s great. if i don’t, that’s okay. i can always try again. i have all the time in the world to do so.

i decide that i will wake up in my dr and fall asleep

i wake up in my dr

i've noticed that each time i used this technique, i shifted successfully. its helped me with 2 intentional shifts, and several other shifts to one-off dr’s and random realities in the past, so i can assure you that this works! :) this is a simple technique for overthinkers or people who don’t like methods. it helps you embrace your natural talent, and proves how easy, effortless, and natural shifting can be.

here’s my 2 success stories from using this technique:

last october i was taking an afternoon nap and spontaneously decided to shift to my hogwarts golden trio era dr. i fell asleep while affirming "i am" and woke up on the train to hogwarts, exactly as i'd scripted! i was standing outside the compartment, and all my senses were present in that reality. i could hear the train horn, the sound of the people talking, i could see the interior of the train in front of me, and felt the chugging of the train beneath my feet.

this image is very similar to what i saw during that shift

2. i wanted to shift to my hogwarts legacy dr yesterday night. while falling asleep, i decided that i was going to wake up on the hogwarts express, but was also equally open to waking up in my cr. i didn't mind either outcome. i let go and fell asleep. as i woke up, something felt different. my eyes were closed but i was no longer lying down - i was sitting upright. i was no longer in a still and silent environment - i felt the chugging of the train engine beneath my feet. i quickly realized that i had in fact shifted to my hogwarts legacy dr and was on the train to hogwarts. i shifted back after a minute as i was quite dazed and disoriented, but i shifted nevertheless!

my advice

don’t try to follow someone else’s steps. do what resonates with YOU, its your journey.

embrace the process and each step of your shifting journey. demotivation is normal, you’re only human, it won’t stop you from shifting.

realize that you don’t need anything to shift but yourself. if guided meditations and subliminals work for you, then keep at it! but if you’re not making any progress with them, its time you rely on yourself rather than external aid to shift. the power lies within you, its always been there.

there's no need to put in effort while doing your method

simply thinking about your dr and deciding that you want to be there can help you shift

go with the flow, be spontaneous and have fun

stop doing things that aren’t working for you

detach from the outcome of shifting, it will happen eventually, don’t focus on it happening too much

happy shifting! 🩷

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zvdvdlvr · 3 days ago

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Tom Riddle didn’t know what to do when you didn’t show up to classes for the day. Not only that- but you don’t have the decency to at least tell him that you were not going to attend the classes that you had no problem attending for the past six years.

So he does what any rational person does and shows up at your dorm. It was a privilege to be head girl, and you were more than happy about having your own room- and you had excitedly showed Tom your room the second you had it decorated. And being your… unofficial boyfriend and head boy, Tom supposes it was his duty- to the school- to find out why you were not reporting to classes or handling your responsibilities with the precision and efficiency that Tom had grown fond of.

When you finally opened the door after a full minute of knocking, Tom raised a perfectly sculpted eyebrow at you. His eyes- critical as usual- sweeped up and down your figure thrice before determining that you hadn’t gotten out of bed at all during the day. “It is past dinner time. What could have possibly deterred your appetite?”

Tom’s attempt at a joke made your jaw set. “I’m ill,” you croaked, going to shut the door.

Tom’s foot wedged between the wood frame and thick door before it could shut with a thud. “You are not ill.” Your cheeks weren’t flushed with fever and your skin didn’t have the mild green tint it usually had when you were sick. “What’s ailing you?”

You sighed and leaned forward a tad- enough to ease the onslaught of cramps that had been terrorizing your body for the past ten hours. “My uterus, Tom. That’s what’s ailing me,” you snipe.

Tom’s eyes narrow. “You’re menstruating? It’s a week early,” he tells you.

Your eyes droop with pain and sleep. “Shut the door when you’re done gawking at my miserable, ailingform,” you request weakly as you turn and limp back to your king sized bed.

It shouldn’t have surprised you that Tom shut the door a minute later. He wasn’t really empathetic and it wasn’t his problem you were curled up in your bed, going in and out of sleep to try to handle the constant waves of pain. But at the same time… you had hoped.

Fickle, fickle hope. You tried not to let tears well up in your eyes at your own disappointment. You cursed yourself and your uterus as you wordlessly charmed your small throw pillow to radiate warmth to place against your stomach.

Tears dripped from your eyes as you tried and, eventually, dozed back off into a dreamless sleep. Your arms were wrapped tightly around the charmed pillow as you clung to the warmth (pathetically wishing it was Tom you were clinging to instead of a damn pillow).

Your door opened just when you were falling into heavy sleep. You groaned and wanted to berate whoever had disturbed your pity party. When you sat up, you ignored the shooting pain in your entire lower body and squinted at-

“Tommy?”

The man grumbled at the nickname. “When have I ever left you by yourself during this time?” He closed the door with his foot because he had things that you couldn’t see in the dark lighting in his hands.

He set a few vials of a shimmering wine red on your abnormally large nightstand- along with an actual bowl of soup, a spoon, a container of chocolate, raspberries, and cherries: your favorite snacks. “Tom…”

Tom uncorked a vial of the swirling potion and handed it to you. “Bottoms up, darling,” he ordered as he warmed the soup up with a wordless spell. When you placed the small vial back in his large hands he handed the bowl to you. “Eat.”

“I’m not-“

“Do not,” Tom interrupted you, “tell me that you are not hungry. If you want to keep that pain killer down, I expect you to eat at least half of that bowl.”

You blinked.

Tom fussed over the state of your room as you ate. He levitated clothes nack into your dresser, blankets in their appropriate places, and tended to the variety of plants you had perched all over your room. Tom almost scoffed- you took better care of the plants then yourself.

“I’m done,” you finally spoke up. Tom turned and strode over to you. “I- Put me down!”

Tom carried you the short distance to the bathroom. “Do what you must, then you’re going to bed.” When you stared owlishly at him, he rolled his eyes. “Why are you so surprised that I’m taking care of what is mine? Go,” he gestured toward the bathroom and gave you the eyes.

Tom carried you back to the bed when you had dried your hands. He slipped under the covers of your bed after you, wrapping a loose arm around your waist. “Get comfortable.”

You placed his hand over the part of your stomach that had been giving you the most pain. His breath fanned your ear and neck as he exhaled slowly. Tom’s lips pressed a featherlight kiss to the side of your neck- so light you questioned if you had imagined it in your tired state. “Good night, Tommy.”

“Sleep well, darling,” he murmured in reply.

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rhyrhy · 2 days ago

Note

it's my time to shine, ayy 🫶🏼 'm on a whole mission, (you can see it on my blog), reader is cocky, smug, little-shit femme, her and Abby are friends with "benefits" (as: Abby and reader take care of each other, share a bed, kisses "as friends" using it as a stress relief, etc) yet every single time reader try to, like, DTR (define the relationship, duh!), Abby straight up ghosts reader on that convo, (she has major comphet vibes, but that's just a lil' headcanon, don't come for me) now, reader? she ain't no doormat, she's PETTY. Capital P-E-T-T-Y. so when they're both forced (forced proximity? oops...) for a mission, reader looks at Abby dead in the eyes when they're aline and hit her with: "girl, i've been wantin' to kick your ass all week"

OOOOOO THIS IS GOOD! I did my best, mini Drabble

Dodge, duck, ghost - A.A

Abby Run-Like-a-Bitch Anderson,

Manny cried laughing the first time he heard you call her that. But you weren’t joking.

Not when the last time you saw Abby, she was bolting out of your room like the WLF had just declared war. And before that? Her tongue was down your throat, hands gripping your waist like she never planned on letting go. That’s how it felt every-time.

That was how she always was touchy, needy, all over you behind closed doors. But you weren’t some secret, something to be ashamed of. Not when there were plenty of other people who’d proudly parade you around. But unfortunately for you, the heart wants what it wants. And unlike Abby, you actually listen to yours. So when the moans and cries had stopped bouncing off your walls, she said something that caught you off guard.

Abby’s breathing was still uneven, her fingers lazily tracing circles against your hip like she wasn’t ready to let go just yet. The room was quiet, save for the sound of your heart still thudding in your chest. And then, she said it. soft, almost like she didn’t mean to say it out loud.

“It’s— this, is different with you…you feel like home”

You blinked, turning your head to look at her. Her gaze was on the ceiling, brows slightly furrowed, like she was already regretting the words.

“Home..?” A slow smile crept onto your lips. “…Sounds long term,” you teased, nudging her side.

That made her freeze. The lazy circles against your hip stopped. Then, before you could react, she was pulling away, sitting up and reaching for her clothes like she’d just been caught doing something wrong. Afterglow or not, she meant it. And you had to push. You’d let her dance around the obvious for too long. For God’s sake, you were there when she broke up with Owen. Listened to her go on and on about how much of a bitch Mel was, how wrong it all felt. So the least she could do was be honest. not just with you, but with herself.

And like clockwork, she stiffened. Sat up. Started getting dressed like she hadn’t just spent the last hour tangled up with you, her face buried against your neck.

“Uht-uht. Hey. Where are you going?” you asked, watching her yank on her shirt.

Abby didn’t look at you. Just laced up her boots and muttered, “I gotta be up early.”

You sat up too, arms resting on your knees. The only thing keeping your sheets warm now was the disappointment. This couldnt keep going on. “Abby, can you stop for two—”

Thud

But the door was already closed behind her.

”—seconds,” you finished, to the empty room.

That was weeks ago.

And wasn’t the first time she’s done that. You never pushed her to label herself, bi, lesbian, it didn’t matter to you. But with her, it went in one ear and out the other. At first, you tried to play it cool. If she needed time to sort through whatever that was, fine. But then she started dodging you. Switched up her gym schedule. Took shifts at different hours. Disappeared from the mess hall when you walked in. She was practically a ghost.

“Yeah, she definitely avoiding you chica” manny said turning back to his plate

“Wow Thanks manny” you huffed. Yeah, That much was obvious.

The Abby you knew wouldn’t just run off. Or at least, the Abby you thought you knew. So when Isaac briefed you on your next mission and didn’t mention her name, you almost bought it. Almost. Until you showed up at the post and caught Abby mid-change, swapping out a sweat-stained shirt for a clean one.

She paused when she saw you, shoulders stiff like she’d already knew where this was going. You cocked your head, waiting for her to say something.

She didn’t. Of course she didn’t.

“You know what—” you sighed, setting your pack down. Then, dead serious, you looked her right in the eyes and said—

“Girl, I’ve been wantin’ to kick your ass all week.”

Abby exhaled through her nose, shaking her head like she knew this was coming. “Jesus.”

“Jesus? Oh no, don’t bring him into this now,” you scoffed, stepping closer. “He ain’t the one who ghosted me after weeks of—what did you call it? ‘Taking care of each other?’” You even threw up air quotes, just to be a little shit about it.

Abby’s jaw tightened. “I didn’t ghost you.”

You blinked. Then laughed at her, like she was doing stand up on stage. “Oh, right. So what do you call changing your gym schedule, eating at different times, avoiding me like I got the damn plague?”

Abby dragged a hand down her face, resting it on her hip. “I just—”

You held a hand up before she could choke something out. “Say some bullshit, I dare you,” you cut in, tilting your head.

She clenched her jaw. Looked away. “I just needed space.”

You stared at her. “Space? Call NASA for that shit. You were in my bed two weeks ago. Two.”

Abby shifted, muttering, “That was different.”

“Oh yeah?” You crossed your arms. “How?”

Silence.

You let it hang there, watching her fingers flex at her sides like she wanted to ball them into fists but knew that wouldn’t fix this. Like she knew you were right but refused to say it. You exhaled sharply, shaking your head. “See, this is exactly why I said what I said. You know what you want, Abby. You’re just too chickenshit to admit it.”

Abby’s head snapped up. “That’s not true.”

“Then prove it.” You stepped closer, tilting your chin up. “Tell me you don’t want me. Right here, right now.”

Abby just stared at you, jaw tight, breath a little unsteady.

The tension was thick. You could see it in the way her fists clenched, in the way her eyes flickered over your face like she was searching for something. some way out, some way forward. Anything.

“Yeah. That’s what I thought.”

But then, someone called both of your names, signaling it was time to move out. Abby exhaled sharply, grabbed her pack, and brushed past you without another word.

You just sighed , slinging your bag over your shoulder. Three days.

She’d have to deal with you for three whole days.

The mission was simple: track and clear a small group of Scars camping out near the old radio tower. It should’ve been easy. Would’ve been, if not for the unspoken thing crackling in the air between you and Abby. She was doing her best to ignore it, kept her distance, kept her eyes forward, barely said a word unless it was mission-related.

You? You were having the time of your life.

Every chance you got, you brushed past her, just close enough to graze her arm. Threw her smug little looks when she glared at you. Smiled real pretty when she clenched her jaw and looked away. Petty? Yeah. But so was avoiding someone just because they called you out on your own bullshit. Your own feelings that were right in front of her.

By the time the mission was over and you’d made it back to the safe house for the night, you could feel the tension rolling off her. Everyone else had turned in for the night, sprawled out across old mattresses and sleeping bags. But you weren’t done with her yet.

She was sitting near the window, legs stretched out, back against the wall. She had her arms crossed, fingers tapping against her bicep like she was still wound up, still caught up in whatever thought, feelings words even, she refused to let out.

So you moved over to her. You crouched in front of her, hands on your knees, and grinned. “Y’know,” you said, voice just low enough that no one else could hear, “if you keep runnin’ from your feelings like this, you’re gonna pull something.”

Abby’s fingers stopped tapping. Her eyes flicked to you, sharp and tired. “Not now.”

“Oh, so later then?” Your smile grew. “I’ll pen you in.” “How’s Friday? That work for you?”

Abby exhaled through her nose. “Jesus, do you ever shut up?

You leaned in slightly, dropping your voice even lower. “Mm, You used to like when I ran my mouth. What happened to that?”

Abby’s jaw tightened.

You tilted your head. “What, nothing to say? No pissy comeback? No ‘shut the fuck up’ ,” You reached out, lightly tapping her knee. “C’mon, Abs. Say something.”

And that’s when it happened.

Abby moved fast. One second, she was sitting against the wall, and the next, she was grabbing you by the front of your shirt and yanking you up until your back hit the opposite wall. The breath caught in your throat, but before you could recover, she was right there, her face inches from yours, eyes dark, chest rising and falling like she’d finally had enough. You’d finally pissed her off enough.

You could feel the frustration flowing off of her. And man, did you love it.

“You think this” she gestured between you two “is a game?” Abby hissed, voice low, rough.

Your pulse spiked, but you kept your cool, rolling your eyes at her. “I think you’re mad ‘cause you know I’m right.”

Abby’s grip on your shirt tightened. “You make everything so fucking difficult ” she muttered, shaking her head.

“Oh yeah?” Your voice was barely a whisper now.

Abby’s eyes flickered to your mouth. Then, finally. finally. she broke. “Yeah.”

Her mouth crashed into yours, rough and frustrated, her hands sliding down to grab your waist, pressing you firmly against the wall. You gasped into it, hands flying to her arms, gripping her tight as she kissed you like she was trying to shut you up for good.

Like she was trying to prove something, to you, to herself maybe.

But she’d already lost. Because when she pulled back, breathing hard, you just smiled before speaking again. “Atta girl. Knew you’d crack.”

Abby groaned, dropping her head against your shoulder. “I hate you.”

“Mmn, no you don’t.” You grinned, running a hand through her hair. “But keep tellin’ yourself that, baby.” Her hands tightened on your waist.

Yeah, you’d won this round. But she still had a long way to go.

@/enchanthings for boarders

#abby anderson #x reader #abby tlou #abby x fem!reader #fem reader #abby x reader #abby the last of us #abby anderson tlou2 #abby anderson the last of us 2 #abby anderson x y/n #abby anderson x reader

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purple-paige-purple · 2 days ago

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my main pazzi evidence!

hey guys, people have been asking me to give me reasoning as to why i think pazzi is real so here ya go. there is A LOT more i could say and a ton more evidence but imma try to piece my basic thoughts together explain as much as i can consicely.

1. their general vibe

ok lemme say first of all, the thing that pisses me off most about pazzi deniers is that they dont acknowledge hard evidence. like hand placement, eye contact, the "is it spit" video, etc. but the thing that's the absolute kicker to me is their entire vibe around each other.

i think the animal letter/pillow video is a really good example of this. start by imagining how you would play that game with your friends, even your closest friends of ten years. would you giggle at them and smile at them the way that p + a look at/talk to each other? probably not. (and if you do, babes im gonna hold your hand when i tell you this...) the entire video was just not something you'd expect from friends AT ALL.

also. the way paige's ENTIRE demeanor changes near azzi. duuuuude its so adorable. any time she's talking to azzi, and even sometimes when azzi is within earshot, paige's voice softens SUBSTANTIALLY and she becomes more thoughtful and calm. an example of this would be kk's (second) crumbl live in the bedroom, when azzi walks in and all of a sudden paige is now giggling quietly as opposed to cracking up loudly like she was before. i think its the whole "calming presence" idea and p + a really both are each other's anchor.

also u don't go on a cruise with your best friend and act the way they acted (and posted).

2. the hard evidence

the aforementioned "is it spit" video. like bro. no matter what the fuck azzi said, what paige responded was extremely suggestive, and azzi's reaction to it just proves that. paige we know that ur faggot ass's favorite tongue movement to lets just take a chill pill on live tv (jk pls dont stop keep feeding our delulu pazzi shipper asses)

another piece of hard evidence: "happy birthday to the precious princess 💗" OK PAIGE WE KNOW SHES UR WIFE. paige wanted to say "my precious princess" so bad its so obvious

paige and azzi also have not shut down ANY rumors or even spoken on the subject of their suspected relationship. instead, i would go so far as to say they've fed into it, the posts about each other, the continuous posting of the "💗" emoji even though the entire internet has a suspicion about what it means. this also ties into the fact that they do have social media, paige is active a lot, their teammates are active, and they definitely (no matter how) seeing these pazzi edits. they are OUT THERE and even the announcers know it.

ice and kk's faces whenever p + a are flirting got me ctfu every time. ice does not try to hide it AT ALL and even though i think kk tries, once in a while she makes a face (the interview where she is in the middle of them)

3. no other relationships/their dynamic

lets be generous to the deniers and say that they've only had smth (a relationship, whether it be serious or not) since 2021. they have not been with anyone since. i will say it again. they have not been with anyone since. with their popularity and how gorgeous/attractive they both are, i feel like if they were seen close with anyone, we would know about it. fine, someone could say they are just both locking in to school and bball, but i really just think p + a work so well together and basically have the same schedule so there is pretty much no negatives to them being together, therefore no reason why it would take away from school/bball. i think they are each other's person and really just compliment each other so well (opposites attract!)

basically the way they act is not how "just friends" act. i dont make the rules 🤷🏻‍♀️

ok so thats my basic thoughts. i could LITERALLY go on for pages (and i will if you guys want!) just let me know (send me an ask or smth) and ill make more posts with more evidence and just basically debriefing it. ok thank u girlypops for listening to my ted talk

ps. thank you to @elliesglock for debriefing some of the uconn lives, pls continue bc they are so fun to read and u have such good thoughts on everything!

#paige buckets #uconn huskies #uconn women's basketball #paige x azzi #uconn women’s basketball #paige bueckers #pazzi #uconn wbb #azzi fudd #azzi35 #pazzi is real #pazzi crumbs #p + a #ava's evidence

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manmuncher777 · 18 hours ago

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Nanami basically has two personalities when it comes to your sex life. Sometimes you might behave certain ways to ensure you get the… treatement you want

Nanami is always a gentle and loving partner, his first priority being you and you well being. This is his soft dom side, pleasure dom even. He loves to worship you, and has no problem doing so. So on those evening where you’ve been so sweet for him, he cant help but lay you out on your shared bed, and give you everything you’ve ever wanted.

“Let me have you darling” he whispers against your neck, kissing the word into your sensetive skin. He’s memorised your skin like a map, permanently burned into his mind. He knows every little spot that makes you shiver and whine. Nipping gently on the spot just against your collarbone that has you quivering under his touch.

“You have me ken.” Your hands clinging onto his skin, trying to tug the shirt off of his toned body, needing to feel him.

“Eager darling?” He chuckles at your rushed hands, pulling the shirt over his head. He’ll let you do that, but other than that, he does all of the work. All for his pretty girl

Stripping you down, laying you on the bed. Eyes trailing over you like it was the last time he was going to see you like this. Savouring every inch of perfect skin he could see.

Wasting no time in kissing his way up you legs, never taking his eyes off of your beatific face, loving to see how he was making you feel. Making his way to where he needed to be.

Planting gentle kisses over your dripping pussy as you mewl beneath him.

“More ken~ please.”

Oh how well mannered you were, who was he to deny such a polite request?

No need to say anything, no wasting time. His tongue quickly finding its way through your folds, slurping up your juices.

Pretty nose bumping against your clit as he fucked you on his tongue, letting you buck your hops and tug on his hair in any way you needed

However, you soon found that Nanami had the ability to change, like the flick of a switch. Of course you were an angel in his eyes, but there were certain occasions where you would push your luck, and he needed to remind you that you were meant to be his well mannered wife, not a little brat.

“Ken~ m’ sorry” you cried out, begging. You had been begging him for hours now, the was no room for you to worry about how pathetic you were being, you didnt care. You just needed him.

“Too late for that my love.” That stern look forcing you into silence.

You had gotten a little bit too spoilt today, and Kento wasnt going to put up with your attitude. So here you were pathetically grinding against his thigh while he had his hands on your hips, stopping you from cumming every time you came close

You were quivering from the overstimulation of being brought to the edge so many times, tears streaming down you pretty face as you husband cooed at you. You had no idea he could be so … harsh. But there was something about his unforgiving attitude that had you craving him even more

“Please ken, m’so sorry. Please- let me cum” You cry out, hips rolling again and again, those waves of pleasure never stopping. The faint build of your orgasm once again.

You couldn’t keep up any more, pausing your hips to give your soaked cunt a moment to recover.

“I don’t recall telling you to stop darling.”

#jjk #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jjk x you #jjk fanfic #kento x y/n #kento x you #jjk kento #nanami kento smut #kento smut #kento x reader #kento nanami #nanami kento #nanami x you #jujutsu nanami #nanami smut #jjk nanami #nanami x y/n

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xbuu · 3 days ago

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Sick! Chishiya x Fem! Reader

Your doctor will barely let you take his temperature, but you refuse to let him take care of himself.

Content: Fluff, sick Chishiya, reader takes care of Chishiya and he gets better.

Word count: ~1.2k

a/n: my first fic in tumblr! i have a few more to upload already but I'm too lazy to make introduction posts and all that lmao

Chishiya sits begrudgingly in your king sized bed, covered by thick yarn blankets and cocooned by at least four pillows that you insisted on wrapping around him. His soft features are adorned by a gentle frown that you could even call bratty, as he refused to lay down and stay still for even a few minutes to allow you to feed him his warm soup.

"Is this really necessary?" He sighs, moving his face to the side with more force than necessary, causing the spoon to wobble dangerously in your hand. "It's just a fever."

"Come on, baby, I made the soup for you to get better!" You insist, putting the spoon to his lips. He hesitates, pulling his covers tighter against him before his eyes focus on the spoon.

You think you hear a huff before he opens his mouth and allows you to feed him the soup you lovingly prepared a few minutes prior. You didn't expect him to pitch such a fit when you fed it to him, but you love him too much to dwell on the fact that Chishiya is a textbook brat when he gets sick.

"Thank you!" You lean in, leaving a sweet kiss on his cheek, something you know will soften his behavior for at least a few minutes until it wears off...

Unfortunately, you also forgot your darling is a very strict doctor. With delayed movements due to the fever weighing him down, he gently pushes your shoulder away from him. You managed to plant the kiss on him, though, so it's a win for you.

"Don't do that. I don't want you getting sick." He complains, almost whines, twisting his face out of your line of sight and to the side. You slump your shoulders, sighing. Does he have to be so dramatic? Don't tell him that you think that, though.

"It was just your cheek, Chishiya, I'll be fine." You roll your eyes. You were never weak, and you rarely got sick, Chishiya is just being overly cautious.

"I don't want you getting sick." He repeats, looking up at you, sitting on the side of the bed. It's just now that you notice the dark circles under his eyes, and the stuffy nose that causes him to sniffle every couple of minutes.

"I'm not getting sick, Chishiya." You lean in, cupping his face with both of your hands. His face burns up under your touch, and you pull away quickly to grab a wet towel on the nightstand table and place it on his forehead. "You're burning up! Why don't you tell me?"

His eyes flutter closed under the relief of the wet towel, and he shifts around in bed to soothe both the overwhelming heat and the freezing cold. Your gaze softens, the previously accusing tone morphing into something calmer and more careful. "Do you want more soup?"

"No, thank you." His words are well pronounced and sharp when they leave his mouth, a contrast to his shuffled body which is now laid on the bed like a ragdoll. He keeps turning around on the bed, shoving off his covers and simultaneously looking for the warmth.

You put away the soup bowl, looking anxiously for the thermometer in the mess on the nightstand. He pauses, as if he just noticed the way you have been biting your index nail for the past ten minutes and the way your leg shakes with a rhythm.

"I'll be fine." He interrupts your line of thinking as you snatch the thermometer off the nightstand table.

"I know. I'm still worried." You reply softly, as if saying the words louder could somehow confirm your fears. You press the thermometer to his skin, and after a couple of seconds of agonizing silence the small screen flashes. 38.7° degrees, not enough for him to go to the hospital but more than enough for you to worry.

You look down at him, squirming in the bed, and your heart breaks. He looks up at you, and you notice he keeps trying to keep still and his expression neutral, but the small grimaces of discomfort give him away.

You move to soak the towel in the cold bowl of water for a few more seconds, tucking the two characteristic strands of hair behind his ears. "Will you let me take care of you, now?"

The corners of his mouth twitch up at your words despite his discomfort, and he leans into your soft hands, letting out a soft hum that almost sounds like purring. That manages to get a smile out of you, glad that your boyfriend seems to be well enough to indulge you.

"What I need right now is a nap with you." He breaks the comfortable silence that settled over the room. He gently scoots to the side, leaning back down into the softest pillow in your shared room. His invitation guarantees a grin from you, and he can't help but smirk back.

"Always." You reply, burrowing under the blankets and emerging by his side. He reaches out an arm, letting you lean your head on his shoulder and drape an arm over his chest. Somehow, the close proximity to you seems to soothe him, and he no longer has the urge to squirm around in bed to find the perfect temperature.

The forgotten soup on your nightstand is cold by the time he wakes up with ruffled hair and puffy eyes, and when he comes to, he sits up mortified to find out he had been cuddling up in your chest for the past three hours. The position you had fallen asleep in and the one you woke up in was the same, but with inverted roles.

"Hey, baby. How are you feeling now?" You smile at him and caress his hand draped over your stomach. He blinks once, had he really been resting his head on your chest? But you don't look teasing or playful, like you are seconds away from making fun of him (in a loving, girlfriend way) like you always did.

He thanks you internally for giving him a pass for being sick and not mentioning how he had been snoring like a baby for three whole hours, or the small patch of drool on the side of his mouth, and you just wipe it off with a swipe of your thumb.

He doesn't respond, instead, he moves to rest his head on your chest again. You press your hand on his forehead, but he's not burning up like he was just a few hours ago, so you nudge his cheek with your finger. Would it be too out of line to hope his fever lasts a few more hours? You've never spent so much time with him, due to his long hours at the hospital, let alone cuddling with him.

You giggle, but don't make a comment, wrapping an arm around him and unpausing the TV series you were watching while he snored and drooled. You don't mind having drool on your shirts as long as he's the one holding you tight against him at night.

#xbuu's fics #alice in borderland #aib #chishiya #chishiya shuntaro #aib chishiya #aib fanfic #aib x reader #chishiya alice in borderland #chishiya x reader

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munsonsmixtapes · 18 hours ago

Note

Expect me to creep into your inbox whenever you ask for requests 👀 I am always going to annoy you because you are so talented

Eddie smut with a plus size reader? Maybe she’s there at one of Corroded Coffin’s gigs at The Hideout and Eddie is just like

girl you keep giving me a big head (don't stop) and I love writing about plus sized!reader so your wish is my command!

cw: MDNI (18+) smut (p in v) unprotect sex (wrap it before you tap it) public sex

You enter the smoky bar, looking around the place to take everything in. It's exactly what you thought it'd be but that doesn't mean you don't like it. It's exactly your scene and you love live music so when you heard that a local band preforms there every week, you just knew that you had to check it out.

You make a beeline for the bar to get a drink as the band is setting up. Your eyes immediately catch the guy at the front of the stage fixing up his microphone. He's got long curly hair and the tight t-shirt he's got on is so distracting. You swore to yourself that you weren't going to do this again.

You're trying to not get involved with anyone but that doesn't mean that you can't have a little fun, right? He's exactly your type with the way he's dressed and those large rings he's got on his fingers are making your head spin with the dirtiest thoughts.

Eddie's eyes lock on yours and he's immediately in love. He's always loved curvy girls but there's something about you specifically that is making hearts appear in his eyes. It's the way you carry yourself like you're hot shit and fuck are you.

The tight pants you're wearing are making him dizzy. He wants to have you in the back of his van and love on every inch of you, telling you how beautiful you are. You've got such a hold on him and he doesn't even know your name.

His eyes follow you as you head over the bar and he’s so close to following you just so he can know what name he’s supposed to moan. He just has to have you and straight after the gig, he’s going to ask for your number.

You give him a little wave and he winks at you before you turn and head to the bar where you take a seat before ordering a drink. Eddie’s watching you the whole time, wondering what you’re drinking, wanting to sit next to you and let you talk his ear off the whole night. You’ve completely captivated him and he doesn’t know what to do now that he’s seen you.

The set starts and you get closer to the stage, fully intending on being in the action. You just want to be near him. You want to see how pretty he is up close with the sweat dripping off him in the heat of the bar. You want to feel the scruff of his beard against your skin as he kisses his way down your body.

You’re nodding along to the music, really hoping that they have a tape or something so you can listen to it on repeat. The lead singer’s voice is nothing like you’ve heard before. It’s deep and raspy and you just know that you’d run the tape out because of how much you’d listen to it.

His eyes are shut tight and it makes you wonder if that’s what he’d look like as you topped him, pretty hair fanned out on your pillow, his eyes shut tight as his hips buck against yours, trying his best to keep up with your pace.

You clearly haven’t been out in a while because why are you thirsting over the first man you’ve seen? But considering the other women around you seem to be thinking the same, you feel a lot better, more sane for thinking about this stranger in such dirty ways.

His eyes open and he’s staring straight at you, a smirk playing on his pretty lips as he strums on his guitar, pulling away from the mic as he goes into a guitar solo, his fingers moving down the neck in a rapid motion. You’re not even sure how that’s possible, but at least you know he’s good with his fingers.

Eddie’s trying his hardest to focus on what he’s doing, trying not to turn his head and look at you because if he does, he’s going to fuck up the set then take you by the hand to go somewhere private where he can kiss you absolutely stupid.

But he can’t help it. You keep catching his eye and he’ll just stare before he’s pulled out of his trance and thrown back into the song. He can tell you want him too because of the way you’re staring back with that flirty look and he’s counting down the seconds until he’s finished.

So as soon as the set is done and the crowd begins to disperse, Eddie jumps down from the stage and takes you by the hand, pulling you to his chest, your body flush to his as his hand rests on your back.

“Hi,” he greets.

“Hi,” you smile and watch his gaze drop to your lips.

“I’m Eddie.” You’re not sure how, but the name suits him, almost as if it was made specifically for him.

“Y/n.”

“Well, y/n, I hope you don’t have any plans tonight.” You don’t and for the first time, you’re glad for it. You have a feeling you know exactly what you’re going to get up to.

“Just whatever you’re doing,” You reply, twirling a strand of his hair. Oh yeah, he’s definitely wrapped around your finger now.

“I need to pack up my equipment but as soon as I’m done, it’s you and me.” His lips press to your cheek and then he hurries back to the stage while you stand there, waiting for him to be done. You watch him bend over to put his guitar into the case and can’t help but stare at his ass as he does so. You want to just give it a squeeze and hope you get a chance once you’re alone.

He finishes up pretty and quickly hands his guitar off to one of his bandmates before heading over to you, sticking his hands into the pockets of his leather jacket. His eyes are raking over your body, his tongue slowly licking across his bottom lip as he does so.

They get to your thighs and he so desperately wants to give them a squeeze, to bury his head between them and eat your pussy like a man starved. Fuck, he’s never been so attracted to anyone like this in his life and he needs you so bad.

As his band mates flee, he takes you by the hand and lead you out to his van. He pins you to the side of it and his lips find yours in a hot kiss, not afraid to slide his tongue into your mouth as his hands grab a firm hold of your waist.

You push his jacket from his shoulders and he lets it fall to the ground behind him before pulling to the back. He opens the doors and helps you inside before climbing inside himself and closing the door behind you.

Once you’re safely inside, you’re quick to undress each other between heated kisses. His lips are hot in your skin as he presses them to every new inch of skin that’s revealed as another piece of clothing is removed. He’s mumbling compliments into your skin and you’re so glad that you’re sitting because you feel like you’re melting under his touch.

He knows exactly what he’s doing, knows exactly what to say and what to do and if just making out with him is making you melt, you’re not so sure how you’re going to handle the sex. Once your bra is off, he lays you down onto the floor of the van, his lips kissing down your chest before wrapping around your hard nipple.

His tongue swipes across it gently and you let out a whine as if asking for more. Eddie pulls away to give you a shit-eating grin before going back in, giving your nipple a suck as his tongue flicks back and forth across it, his other hand reaching up and massaging your other one. You’re whining at the feeling and he takes that as an invitation to continue, going in with his teeth to bite down on it which causes a loud moan to fall from your lips.

So Eddie does it again, harder this time, causing you to grab fistfulls of his hair, yanking on it to show just how much you’re enjoying yourself. He lets out a little yelp in response, but that doesn’t stop him from biting you again. In fact, it only makes him do it again and again until you’re close to an orgasm.

And when he moves onto your other nipple, you swear that you’re seeing stars as he does the exact same thing, your back arching in pleasure as you keep tugging on his hair, feeling yourself getting progressively more wet as he does so. It’s soaking wet between your legs and you need him between them so bad. You need him to fuck you so hard that you can’t walk for days.

“Need you,” you whine and spread your legs so he knows exactly what you mean. So his lips travel down your torso and you gasp as his teeth grab onto the waistband of your panities, pulling them down so slowly because he’s such a goddamn tease. He’s looking up at you as his eyes darken, almost looking black.

He then removes his own before taking out a condom from his jeans pocket and rolls the thing on. He spreads your legs as wide as possible so that they’re touching the floor then positions himself so that he’s lined up with you before going in, pumping as hard as he possibly can, watching you respond to every touch as you lie beneath him.

You’re watching him in awe, getting even more wet as you take in his tattoos and the way his hair falls, the chain around his neck hitting against his collarbone in a rapid pace because of how hard he’s fucking you.

“Look so pretty on my cock, sweetheart. And you’re taking me so well already.” His cock is not even halfway inside and you need to feel all of him. You’re desperate for the whole thing, to see just how much you can take so you grab hold of his ass and push him farther inside you until his bush is pressed up against you.

You gasp at the feeling and tears well up in your eyes because of how big he is, but it just feels so good. Your nails dig into his cheeks and he takes the hint, fucking you with his whole cock as he picks up the pace, moving in and out so quickly you can hardly keep up as you buck your hips against his.

“You’re so fucking hot,” he says as his lips press to your neck in a soft kiss. “Like fuck, this is just unfair sweetheart.” He reaches up and swipes some sweaty hair from your forehead. He then picks up the pace even more as he sees that you’re close, making sure to insert all of himself as he does so.

And when you finally do come, he continues thrusting into you until you’re crying his name. Once you’re coming down, he pulls out and disposes of the condom before helping you get dressed, being nothing but kind to you as he does so.

And once you’re both dressed, you drive around the city talking about everything and nothing until it’s early in the morning. He then reluctantly drops you off at your car and is quick to make plans to do this all over again because there’s no way he’s only going to do this once. He’s got to see you again because he’s pretty sure that he’s already falling in love with you.

#stranger things #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie x y/n #eddie munson x you #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x plus size!reader

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julietsf1 · 2 days ago

Text

Home Again - Charles Leclerc x Reader

summary: eight years, one city, and a thousand unspoken words—will a chance encounter in London bring closure, or is there more in store for Monaco's golden boy and the one who got away? (4.5k words)

content: reunion, slight angst, unresolved feelings, childhood friends

AN: another Charles one! I felt like these tropes really suited his vibe, I hope you enjoy!! :)

____________________________________

London always felt like a city of paradoxes - chaotic yet calming, detached yet full of life. As I sipped my cappuccino at a small café tucked away in Soho, I let my mind wander. The same questions had lingered in my mind over the years, growing louder the longer I avoided them. Was it a mistake to leave? Should I have fought harder to keep in touch with him? With Charles?

I shook my head. No, leaving Monaco had been necessary. It was beautiful, yes, but it was like living inside a postcard, picture-perfect on the outside but so painfully hollow within. Everyone was constantly posturing, trying to outdo the next person in opulence, charm, or connections. It was exhausting.

And Charles… he was Monte Carlo personified in so many ways. Stunning, magnetic, the kind of person who made you feel alive just by being in his orbit. But there was something raw and real beneath that glossy exterior, something I’d always seen, even when no one else seemed to. I loved him for it. And maybe, in a way, I hated him too - for thriving in a place that felt like it would suffocate me.

The faint chime of the café door opening pulled me from my thoughts. I glanced up, expecting some trendy Londoner or a tourist fumbling with their map. But instead, my eyes landed on a familiar face, one I hadn’t seen in nearly a decade. Arthur Leclerc.

“Y/N?” His voice was incredulous, his eyebrows shooting up as he stopped mid-step. He looked exactly the same, just a bit taller, a bit sharper around the edges. Still the same boy I remembered from childhood, though, with that mischievous glint in his eye.

I blinked, unsure if I was hallucinating. “Arthur?”

He grinned, practically bounding over to my table. “Mon dieu, it is you! I wasn’t sure at first, but… wow, what are you doing in London?”

I gestured to my half-empty coffee cup. “Living here. What about you? I thought you’d be… I don’t know, in Monaco or racing somewhere glamorous.”

Arthur slid into the seat across from me without waiting for an invitation, his grin widening. “I was here for a sim session, actually. But you, London? I thought you’d be in Paris or some other philosophy capital, writing about Socrates or something.”

I laughed softly. “Close enough. I came here for university, and I never left.”

“Eight years.” His tone was lighter, but his words carried weight. “It’s been eight years, Y/N. Do you ever go back?”

The question hit me harder than I expected. I took a sip of my coffee to buy myself time. “No,” I admitted. “Not since… well, not since I left.”

Arthur’s expression softened, though confusion lingered in his eyes. “You just… left,” he said gently. “No one really understood why. Charles especially.”

I looked down at my coffee, the words caught in my throat. How could I explain the weight of feeling like an outsider in a world I was supposed to call home?

“I just needed to go,” I murmured. “It wasn’t about anyone else.”

Arthur studied me for a moment, then nodded slowly. “I guess I never really got it, but… if it’s what you needed, then fine.” He paused before leaning forward with a small smile. “Come back. Just for the weekend, for the Grand Prix. I think it’d mean a lot to everyone. To Charles.”

I bit my lip, unsure how to respond. The truth was, I’d thought about going back a hundred times. But every time, I chickened out. Monaco felt like a ghost town to me now, haunted by memories I wasn’t sure I was ready to face.

“I don’t know,” I said finally. “It’s complicated.”

“It doesn’t have to be,” Arthur said simply. He pulled out his phone and started typing something before I could protest. “There. I signed you up as my guest. No backing out now.”

I stared at him, equal parts annoyed and touched by his insistence. “What if I had plans already?”

“Cancel them,” he shot back with a wink. “But seriously, Y/N, it’s time. Come back. Just for a weekend. What’s the worst that could happen?”

I sighed, knowing I’d already lost this battle. And maybe he was right. Maybe it was time.

…

Monaco hadn’t changed. Not really.

The same sunlit streets curved around the cliffs, the same pastel buildings clung to the coastline, their colors soft and warm under the Mediterranean sun. The harbor was still crowded with yachts that gleamed like polished jewels, reflecting the light off the water’s surface. It was all exactly as I remembered—beautiful in the kind of way that made you feel small and insignificant.

I wasn’t sure what I expected. Maybe cracks in the pristine perfection, signs that time had weathered the place the same way it had weathered me. But Monaco, ever the picture perfect place, refused to bend to time.

And for the first time in years, I didn’t resent it for that. The beauty I had once thought insincere now felt strangely comforting, like being greeted by an old friend who hadn’t forgotten you, even if you had drifted apart.

“Here we are, mademoiselle,” the taxi driver said, pulling up to the paddock entrance.

I took a deep breath and stepped out. The familiar hum of Grand Prix weekend surrounded me immediately - the roar of engines revving in the distance, the buzz of chatter from fans and team members, the faint tang of fuel in the air. It was overwhelming, yes, but also exhilarating. Nostalgia wrapped around me, equal parts warm and suffocating.

“Y/N!” Arthur’s voice rang out, pulling me back to the present. He was waiting just inside the paddock entrance, a wide grin spreading across his face as he waved me over.

I smiled despite myself and walked toward him. “Arthur,” I said, my tone teasing. “You’re not old enough to be drinking espresso yet.”

He laughed, pulling me into a hug that was warmer than I expected. “Eight years and you still won’t give me a break. Come on, let’s go.”

“Go where?” I asked as he led me into the paddock, his enthusiasm practically radiating off him.

“Everywhere,” he said simply. “It’s been years. You’ve missed so much.”

Arthur guided me through the maze of the paddock, pointing out everything with a mix of pride and excitement, as though I hadn’t grown up watching all of this unfold. But I let him have his moment, nodding along and laughing at his commentary.

“You look different,” he said suddenly, catching me off guard. “In a good way, I mean. More… I don’t know, serious. Like you’ve seen things. Learned things.”

I raised an eyebrow. “That’s a very poetic way of saying I look old, Arthur.”

“No, really,” he insisted, his expression earnest. “It’s like you’ve grown into yourself.”

The comment was unexpected, but it warmed me. “Thanks,” I said softly. “You’ve grown up too. A little.”

He grinned. “Don’t let Charles hear you say that. He still treats me like a kid.”

At the mention of Charles, my stomach twisted, though I tried to keep my expression neutral. Arthur must have noticed something, because his tone shifted, gentler now. “I know it’s probably weird, being back here,” he said. “But I think it’s good you came. I think… I think Charles will be happy to see you.”

I didn’t have the heart to tell him how wrong I thought he was. Instead, I nodded and let him lead me deeper into the paddock.

…

The paddock was chaos, as always. Media rushing everywhere, team members darting back and forth. But Charles couldn’t focus on any of it.

Because she was here.

He had only seen her for a brief moment, just a glimpse of her stepping out of a taxi and into the paddock. But it was enough to bring back everything; every memory, every laugh, every ache of missing her. She looked exactly like she did before, only prettier.

It had been eight years. Eight years since she left without a goodbye, leaving him to wonder if he had done something wrong, if he had somehow driven her away. And now she was back, as though she had never been gone.

“Arthur,” he muttered, pulling out his phone. His hand shook slightly as he dialed.

His brother answered on the first ring. “Charles? What’s up?”

“What’s up?” Charles hissed, keeping his voice low as he stepped out of the chaos and into a quiet corner. “Arthur, why didn’t you tell me she was coming?”

There was a pause, then a sheepish laugh. “Ah. You’ve seen her already.”

“Yes, I’ve seen her!” Charles snapped, though the anger in his voice was undercut by the nervous energy bubbling beneath. “You should’ve warned me.”

“I didn’t think I needed to,” Arthur said, his tone annoyingly casual. “I thought you’d be happy. It’s been years, Charles. Don’t you want to see her?”

Charles ran a hand through his hair, leaning against the wall. “Of course I want to see her. I just… I don’t know what to say.”

Arthur’s voice softened. “You’ll figure it out. You always did with her.”

…

Arthur had been called away to a meeting, leaving me to wander the place on my own. I found a quiet spot near the Ferrari hospitality area, nursing a coffee and trying to steady the whirlwind of emotions in my chest.

Being back here was surreal, like stepping into a memory I wasn’t sure I wanted to relive. But at the same time, I couldn’t deny the comfort of it - the familiar sounds, the smell of the sea air mixed with fuel, the vibrant energy of race weekend.

I heard footsteps behind me and turned instinctively, my breath catching as I locked eyes with him.

Charles.

He stopped in his tracks, his expression a mix of shock and something I couldn’t place, something that made my chest tighten. For a moment, neither of us moved. The weight of eight years of silence hung in the air between us, heavy and unyielding.

Before I could say anything, he turned abruptly and walked away.

…

The roar of the engines drowned out everything else. I stood on the hospitality terrace, surrounded by fans who were shouting encouragement in a chorus of excitement. The energy was contagious, a reminder of why I had always loved race weekends, even when the rest of Monaco felt stifling.

Arthur had left me to sit with some of his friends, but I didn’t mind being alone. It gave me a chance to take it all in—the track, the sea of red Ferrari merchandise, the sun reflecting off the sleek cars. My eyes kept drifting to one in particular, the red number 16 that seemed to glide through every corner as though the circuit were made for it.

Charles.

I hadn’t seen him since he walked away from me in the paddock earlier. It shouldn’t have surprised me; after all, what could we have possibly said to each other in that moment? But it still stung, the abruptness of it, the way he looked at me like I was a ghost he wasn’t ready to confront.

I shook my head, trying to push the thought away. It didn’t matter. This wasn’t about him. It was about being here, about reconnecting with a part of my life I had left behind.

But as the race unfolded, I couldn’t stop my gaze from following him. Every lap, every overtaking move, every moment of brilliance - it was impossible not to be drawn in. Charles had always been talented, but seeing him now, so focused and in control, was something else entirely. It was breathtaking.

The crowd around me erupted as Charles crossed the finish line, taking the victory in a masterful final lap. People were cheering, waving flags, hugging strangers in celebration. I found myself smiling, caught up in the infectious energy of the moment.

But my smile faltered as I saw him step out of the car. The joy on his face was undeniable, but there was something else—something in the way his eyes scanned the crowd, as though he were looking for someone.

For a split second, I thought he might be looking for me. But then I shook my head, brushing the thought away. Charles had the whole world celebrating him right now. Why would he waste a second of it on someone who had been gone for so long?

Still, as he climbed onto the podium and lifted the trophy, I couldn’t help but feel that same strange pull I had always felt with him. It wasn’t just admiration or pride; it was I only felt with him.

As the celebrations spilled into the paddock, where the Ferrari garage was alive with champagne showers, laughter, I kept my distance, lingering near the back of the crowd as the team surrounded Charles, congratulating him.

Arthur spotted me and made his way over, a grin plastered across his face. “Pretty incredible, huh?” he said, motioning toward the scene.

I nodded. “He’s… he’s amazing,” I said, my voice quieter than I intended.

Arthur gave me a look, something between knowing and sympathetic. “You should come to the afterparty,” he said. “We’re all heading to Rimaldi later. It’ll be fun.”

I hesitated, the thought of being in a room full of people who knew Charles, who had been part of his world all these years, making my stomach twist. “I don’t know…”

“Don’t overthink it,” Arthur said, cutting me off. “It’s just a party. No pressure.”

I forced a smile, but the weight in my chest didn’t ease. “We’ll see,” I said, knowing full well I wasn’t going to go.

***

The party at Rimaldi was everything Charles had come to expect from these celebrations—loud music, overflowing champagne, and a sea of people he barely recognized. The restaurant’s cozy atmosphere had been transformed into a chaotic celebration, with glasses clinking and laughter filling every corner. Fans and acquaintances congratulated him as though they were old friends, slapping him on the back and offering toasts in his honor.

Normally, this was his element. He was good at this—the smiling, the handshakes, the polite small talk that came with being the center of attention. On any other night, he would have been content to let the noise and the crowd carry him, to let it fill the empty spaces he so often ignored. But tonight was different.

Tonight, no matter how many times he raised his glass or laughed along with a joke, he couldn’t shake the gnawing restlessness that had been with him all day. His mind kept drifting, pulled away from the party and back to the one place he couldn’t seem to avoid—her.

She’d looked the same and yet completely different. The years had softened some edges and sharpened others, but it was still her. Y/N, the person who had once been his closest friend, his anchor in a world that often felt overwhelming. He thought he had moved on from wondering why she left, why she cut him off, but seeing her again brought it all back in a rush.

He barely touched his drink, the glass sweating in his hand as he leaned against the edge of the bar. Across the room, Arthur caught his eye, a knowing grin on his face as he raised his own drink in a silent toast. Charles frowned and turned away, pretending not to notice.

“Charles! Congratulations!” A voice pulled him back to the moment. A well-dressed man, someone he vaguely recognized as a sponsor, clapped him on the shoulder. Charles offered a tight smile, exchanging a few polite words before excusing himself.

The truth was, he wasn’t really here. Not mentally. The louder the party grew, the more it grated on him, every laugh and cheer feeling like static in his ears. His thoughts kept circling back to the paddock, to the way her eyes had met his for that brief, electric moment. She had looked surprised, hesitant, but not angry. That was something, at least.

But then she had disappeared, and he hadn’t been able to stop replaying it in his mind—the way she stood there, so poised and composed, and then was gone, swallowed up by the crowd.

By midnight, he couldn’t take it anymore. The laughter and music blurred into background noise as he stood, shaking his head at someone offering him another drink. He muttered something about needing rest and slipped out through the side door, ignoring Arthur’s raised eyebrows as he left. His brother didn’t stop him, though, and Charles suspected Arthur knew exactly where he was going.

The streets of Monaco were quieter now, the city’s energy winding down after the race. Charles drove aimlessly at first, his hands tight around the steering wheel. The roads he knew so well blurred together as his thoughts raced faster than his car ever could.

He didn’t know what he was going to say. He didn’t even know if she would want to see him. But none of that mattered, because the one thing he did know, the one thought that consumed him, was this:

He needed to see her.

***

The knock at the door startled me.

I glanced at the clock on the bedside table—12:27 a.m. I had been lying on the hotel bed for the past hour, staring at the ceiling, trying to make sense of the day. Arthur’s invitation, the race, seeing Charles for the first time in years—all of it felt like too much, like I had stepped back into a world I didn’t belong to anymore.

Another knock, firmer this time.

I sat up, my heart racing. Maybe it was Arthur, coming to drag me to the afterparty. Or worse, maybe it was a staff member telling me something had gone wrong with my reservation. My stomach twisted as I padded across the room, hesitating before unlocking the door.

But when I opened it, it wasn’t Arthur or hotel staff standing there.

It was Charles.

He leaned against the doorframe, his hands stuffed into his jacket pockets, his hair slightly tousled by the wind. He was dressed casually—dark jeans, a fitted jacket that hinted at his frame—but there was nothing casual about the look in his eyes. They flickered between me and the floor, restless, as though he were trying to piece together why he was even here.

“Hi,” he said finally, his voice quiet but steady.

I stared at him, too stunned to respond at first. “Charles,” I managed after a moment. “What are you doing here?”

His shoulders dropped slightly, like he’d been holding his breath. “Can we go for a drive?”

I blinked, caught off guard. “Now?”

“Yes,” he said, his tone firmer this time, though not unkind. “I need to talk to you. And I can’t do it here.”

I hesitated, glancing back into the room like it held the answer. But there was no answer waiting for me, no excuse strong enough to keep me from following him. “Okay,” I said softly. “Let me grab my coat.”

The streets of Monaco were quieter now, the city winding down after the race. Charles drove with one hand on the wheel, the other resting loosely on the gearstick. His jaw was tight, his eyes fixed on the road, and the silence between us felt heavy, charged with everything unsaid.

I kept stealing glances at him, trying to read the expression on his face, but it was unreadable. It wasn’t anger exactly, but it wasn’t calm either. It was something in between—a tension I couldn’t quite place.

Finally, he turned onto a small road overlooking the harbor and parked. He shut off the engine but didn’t move, his hands gripping the steering wheel as he stared out at the lights reflecting on the water.

“Why did you leave?” he asked finally, his voice breaking the silence like a crack of thunder.

I swallowed hard, my hands twisting in my lap. “I didn’t know how to stay,” I said quietly. “Monaco… it wasn’t the same for me as it was for you. It felt fake, like I was living in a place where everything was about appearances and nothing was real. I couldn’t breathe there.”

He turned then, his gaze sharp and searching. “So you left without a word? Without even telling me?”

I met his eyes, feeling the sting of his words. “I didn’t think you’d understand.”

“Understand?” he repeated, his voice rising slightly. “Y/N, you were my best friend. I would have done anything for you, but you didn’t even give me the chance.”

The anger in his tone cut deep, but beneath it, I could hear something else—hurt. And that was worse.

“I didn’t mean to hurt you,” I said softly. “But I had to go. For me.”

Charles shook his head, running a hand through his hair in frustration. “Do you know how many times I thought about calling you? About flying to London to find you? But I didn’t, because I told myself that if you wanted to talk to me, you would.”

I clenched my hands together, forcing myself to hold his gaze. “I thought about telling you,” I said softly. “But I was scared. Scared that if I saw you, I wouldn’t be able to leave. And I had to leave, Charles. I didn’t know who I was anymore.”

“I would have let you go if that is what you wanted. I just wish I had known.” He said, looking deep into my eyes.

I felt a lump rise in my throat. “It wasn’t that simple.”

“Even a text or a quick call would have made the difference, Y/N.”

“Then why didn’t you?” I asked, the words tumbling out before I could stop them. “You blame me for no contact, but you never reached out either.”

His jaw tightened, his hands gripping the steering wheel again. “Because I didn’t think you wanted me to,” he said finally, his voice quieter now. “You didn’t leave a door open, Y/N. Not for me, not for anyone.”

The anger in his tone cut deep, but beneath it, I could hear something else—hurt. And that was worse.

We fell into silence, the weight of our words hanging heavy in the air. My chest felt tight, my emotions raw and unsteady. I looked out at the harbor, the city lights shimmering like distant stars, and took a deep breath.

“Explain it to me,” he said, his voice quieter now, almost pleading. “Because I don’t understand, Y/N. I’ve spent eight years not understanding.”

My chest felt tight, the weight of everything we had been avoiding pressing down on me.

“I was scared,” I admitted, my voice trembling. “Scared that if I stayed, I’d lose myself. Scared that if I saw you again, I’d lose the courage to leave. And then… after your dad…” I trailed off, the memory too painful to finish. “I didn’t know how to come back after that.”

Charles’s expression softened, the anger fading into something more vulnerable. “You could have come to me,” he said quietly. “You should have come to me.”

I shook my head, tears pricking the corners of my eyes. “And what would I have said? ‘Sorry for leaving you when you needed me the most’? I couldn’t face that, Charles. I couldn’t face you.”

For a moment, neither of us spoke. The only sound was the faint hum of the city outside.

My chest felt tight, my emotions raw and unsteady, as though years of bottled-up feelings had burst open all at once, leaving me vulnerable and exposed. I turned my gaze toward the harbor, the city lights shimmering like scattered stars on the water, their soft glow blurring slightly as tears pricked at my eyes. The stillness of the moment contrasted sharply with the storm raging inside me.

Charles broke the silence, his voice soft but resolute, as though he’d been holding these words back for far too long. “It shouldn’t have been Arthur who invited you back,” he said, his tone laced with frustration and regret. “It should’ve been me. I should’ve been the one to call you.”

The honesty in his voice hit me like a blow to the chest. I turned to him, my breath hitching as his words sank in. The years apart had been a chasm between us, filled with missed chances and unspoken words, and hearing him acknowledge it felt like a bittersweet relief. My throat tightened, and I struggled to find my voice.

“I know,” I said finally, my voice trembling. “But you didn’t call me. And… neither did I call you. We both let it happen.”

Charles’s jaw tightened, and he looked away briefly, his profile illuminated by the faint glow of the streetlights outside. When he spoke again, his voice was quieter, almost fragile. “I didn’t know how to. After you left, I was confused. I didn’t want to admit how much it hurt. And then it just… felt easier to pretend I didn’t care.”

I let out a shaky breath, the tears I’d been holding back finally slipping free. “The second I got back to Monaco, all I did was look for you,” I admitted, my words coming out in a rush, like I had been holding them in for years. “Everywhere I went, I looked for you. You were everywhere - your face in the streets, your name in conversations, your memory in everything I saw. And yet… you were nowhere.”

I heard Charles inhale sharply, and when I turned back, his eyes were locked on mine, filled with an intensity that made my breath catch. Green and piercing, they were searching for something, some part of me I wasn’t sure I still had to give. Vulnerability. Hope. Regret. I saw all of it reflected in his gaze, and it was almost too much.

“I didn’t know if I wanted to see you again,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “I didn’t know if I could. But now that you’re here…” He shook his head, his expression softening into something raw and earnest. “Now that you’re here, I can’t imagine letting you go again.”

The space between us seemed to disappear in an instant. Charles reached out, his hand trembling slightly as he cupped my face, his thumb brushing against my cheek in a way that was both tender and desperate. His touch was hesitant at first, as though he was afraid I might pull away. But I didn’t. I couldn’t.

Then, before I could say anything, his lips met mine.

The kiss was soft at first, tentative, like we were both testing the waters of something so fragile it might shatter under the weight of our emotions. But it deepened quickly, carrying years of longing, frustration, and unspoken love. It was messy and imperfect, tears mingling with laughter, but it felt like home in a way I hadn’t felt in years.

When we finally pulled apart, Charles didn’t move far. His forehead rested against mine, his breath warm against my skin. He closed his eyes for a moment, as though grounding himself in the closeness between us, before murmuring, “I don’t want to lose you again. Not ever.”

My heart pounded, each beat echoing the promise in his words. I closed my eyes, letting the moment wash over me, before whispering back, “You won’t.”

In that moment, the weight of the past seemed to lift, leaving something lighter in its place. We weren’t perfect, and neither was this, but it was enough. It was us.

#f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 one shot #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc one shot #charles leclerc #charles leclerc fanfic #cl16 x reader #cl16 one shot

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 1 day ago

Text

Cool for the Summer 5

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, age gap, power dynamics, cheating, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: After finishing your degree, you return home only to find things aren’t as you left them.

Characters: Bucky Barnes

Note: merry monday.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

You nearly plunge under the water as you tear away from Bucky’s grip. The thrum of the hot tub jets hum a low drown beneath the thumping of your heartbeat. Your thighs are hot and jittery. Your limbs feel disjointed from the rest of you.

“Baby girl?” He purrs and reaches for you again. “Where you going?”

You flail and twist in the water. You splash to the edge and hook your leg over gracelessly. You barely keep from flopping out onto the ground. You get your feet set and scramble away, wiping the speckle of water from your cheeks as water slakes from your shorts down your legs.

He chuckles and the water stirs with his movement. Is he following you? You don’t wait to see as you race for the back door.

Your adrenaline distorts the sunlight and noise of birds. You stumble inside, clinging to the door handle as your feet slip on the tile. You whimper and rush across the kitchen. You’re dizzy with confusion and fear.

What just happened? What did he do? What did you do?! You’re just as guilty. You got in that hot tub, you let him get close, and then you... you did exactly what he accused you of.

You stagger upstairs, so frantic you use your hands in a half-crawl on the ascent. You pump your legs and arms and charge into your bedroom. You slam the door and lean against it, panting. You close your mouth as you tamp down your breath and listen to the house.

You don’t hear anything. You close your eyes and turn your head straight. Your clothes are wet and sopping, cooling as they stick uncomfortably to your skin. Your hand shakes as you feel along the front of your shorts.

You slip your fingers under the mattress and your insides clench. Just the way the seam brushes against your cunt makes you squirm. You feel swollen and a bit sore.

Oh god. You really did that. You’re not ignorant. You might be inexperienced but you’re human, you’ve been curious, and lonely. But that...

That was wrong. Your mother’s boyfriend just watched you cum. He as good as made you himself. Then he tried to kiss you--

How are you going to explain all this?

“Baby girlllll,” Bucky calls out. His voice is distant, “why’d you run away, doll? We were just getting started.” His timbre gets closer, he must be by the stairs. “Look at this mess you made. There’s water all over.”

You hear him coming up the stairs, slow like a predator. He takes a deep breath and lets in out in a snicker. His steps clap down the hallway.

“What am I gonna do with a dirty girl like you? Didn’t you already shower?” He clicks his tongue in disapproval. “Bad girl.”

You whimper as he taps on the other side of your door. You cross your arms, holding yourself as a chill ripples over you. Goosebumps pinpoint over your skin painfully.

“Hey, baby girl, we can go slow,” he jiggles the handle and you turn to grasp it, stilling his attempt to get in. “I just wanna have a look--”

There’s a sudden honk. The little toot that comes from clicking the lock button on a key tag. You know it. It’s your mom’s car. You gulp and the tension loosens from the door handle. He sighs.

“Shit...” the growl follows him to the opposite end of the hall.

You hear rustling. You’re not sure what’s going on but you’re not coming out until your mom’s inside. The front door opens with the jingle of her keys and you ready yourself to run out and say everything.

“Hey, honey,” Bucky’s voice keeps you pent up. “You’re home. Oh, be careful.” His weight creaks at the top of the stairs. “I was just about to get her to come clean that up. She wanted to try out the hot tub and think she forgot her towel.”

What? No? He’s making it sound totally different.

“Just been mowing the lawn,” he continues.

“I saw that, honey,” your mom trills. “You are just the best, Bucky,” she comes up the stairs. “Oh, look at all this water.”

You open the door, “mom! Mom, you’re home--”

You hurry forward and she stops a few steps down to look at you.

“Oh, sweetie, you tracked water all inside,” she tuts.

“What? Mom--” you pause and look at Bucky. He’s dressed. A tee and jeans. His hairs a bit damp but it could just as easily be sweat... from mowing the lawn. You cringe. “Sorry, but--”

“Oh, and why aren’t you wearing a proper swimsuit?” She reproaches. She comes up and sidles past Bucky with a whisper. He steps aside and turns to watch you over her shoulder. She gets to you and ushers you back to the room, “get changed and go find a mop.”

“Mom--”

“No, sweetie,” she glances back over her shoulder, “Oh, Bucky, do me a favour and put the kettle on for me.”

“Sure, honey,” he agrees.

She faces you again and he winks at you. Your mouth opens speechlessly. You shake your head.

“Look, I don’t want to embarrass you,” she lowers her voice as Bucky descends. “But I can see right through that shirt.”

You hug yourself and frown, “mom...” your lip trembles as you search her face. This looks bad but not for you. You don’t think she’ll believe you and you don’t think you would either. You’re soaking wet and a mess and he has the tan to prove his hard work. “I’ll clean it up.”

“Alright, and if you’re gonna be in the hot tub. Take a towel.” She gives a half-smile then turns to head down to her own room. “I might just get in myself after today.”

She disappears into her bedroom and you stare after her. Shell shocked. How did this happen? The morning is just a smear in your mind.

You twitch as a high-pitched noise tweaks in your ear. Bucky whistles in the kitchen. He’s taunting you, mocking you. He played you like a toy, in more ways than one.

💙

You clean up the floors and do your best to avoid Bucky. Thankfully, your mom is a buffer between you. When you dry up the puddles left from your flight, you hide in your room. You don’t think that will be too suspicious; it's what you typically do.

What isn’t usual is how your stomach bubbles like an overheated pot. You can’t get comfortable, you can’t focus, and you can barely think of anything but that morning. You retrace every step, ever word, and try to find one moment where you can’t blame yourself.

What were you doing? You touched him, you brought him coffee, you got in that hot tub with him. You didn’t even try to push him away when he got too close.

There’s a knock at the door just as you feel like you could doze off. It’s not a good time. Nearly six. You sit up and stare at the wood.

“Um, hello?” You call out.

“Sweetie, it’s mum. Bucky ordered some pad thai for dinner. Why don’t you come have some?” She asks.

“Oh, er... I’m not very hungry,” you reply.

“Right, but, well, I haven’t gotten to see much of you since you got back and I gotta work again tomorrow,” she counters. “If you’re not hungry, why don’t you just come out and spend some time with me?”

You feel that pang in your chest. Not just for having neglected her but for everything else. Bucky should be focused on her, not you. What did you do to spoil that in less than a day?

“Alright,” you relent.

You get up and pull on a loose sweatshirt over your tee. You wear loose linen pajamas on the bottom. You open the door and your mom looks you over.

“Oh, honey, you’re not going to wear that, are you?”

“Are we going somewhere?” You ask.

“No, but... Bucky’s here.”

“Uh, yeah, okay. I’ll... I’ll meet you down there, I guess.”

“Nothing special,” she says. “Just real clothes.”

You nod and shut the door. You frown. She never cared as much before.

You switch out your lounge wear for some jeans and a seersucker shirt. There’s nothing provocative about you. Never has been.

You go down to find your mom and Bucky in the kitchen. She has a plate of noodles and a smile. “Smells, delicious, huh, honey?” She says as she passes.

“Sure,” you agree.

“Come here, baby girl,” Bucky drawls, his back to you, “I’ll serve you.”

You’re mom’s already in the dining room. You drag your feet forward. He twirls noodles with a pair of tongs and piles them on a scallop-edged plate. He turns to you.

“Not the only thing that looks delicious,” he growls in a low tone.

You clutch the plate and your eyes round, “thanks.”

You quickly take it and spin away, nearly spilling it on the floor. You hurry out to the table and heave shakily as you sit. Your mom waits, nails tapping on the table.

“Don’t start until everyone’s sat,” she warns. You’re in no hurry to eat, just to be gone.

Bucky enters with a plate of his own, “forgot this.”

He sets a pair of chopsticks next to you. You look at them then sense someone watching you. Your mom. You eke out a thank you.

“Well, this is nice. How long’s it been since we had a proper family dinner, boo?” She chimes.

“Uh, yeah,” you agree and split the chop sticks. Bucky does the same, deftly perching them between his fingers.

“Family,” Bucky hums. “Yeah, it’s nice.”

Your mom smiles and your heart shrivels.

“Well, I think we need to be honest with each other,” she begins. Your temples beat and your cheeks draw. You glance at Bucky. He's unbothered. “I did have a reason for asking you to come down for dinner, hon.” She looks at you. “I have a surprise?”

“Oh?” Bucky intones. “You do. Well, looks like we’ll both be surprised.”

“Ha, Bucky,” she grins at him. “It’s nothing special, really.”

“A job?” He wonders.

“If only,” she twists the noodles around her chop sticks. “But, I know that you’re looking hard, sweetie. No, it’s something that might keep you busy.”

“Interesting,” he remarks.

You’re nervous. If it’s not a job, maybe more chores. She would think that’s an exciting conversation.

“A date!” She proclaims then stuffs her mouth full of noodles.

You blink and Bucky pinches at his noodles. He takes a smaller bite and chews. You refuse to look at him.

“A date?” You murmur.

“Sure,” she says through her mouthful then swallows. “You’re more than old enough and I know you were so focused in school. It’s about time. And he’s a very nice boy.”

“A nice boy? You know a lot of those, Laur?” Bucky asks.

“Oh, come on, I’m well above his age range. No, you’ll love him, sweetie. Oh, he’s adorable.”

“You know him well?” Bucky challenges.

“Are you so worried? She’s young. And I know his aunt. He has a good reference,” she trills back.

“Shouldn’t she focus on the job hunt first?”

“Relax, she has time for both.”

“Well... what do you think?” He directs his attention to you.

Your eyes dart between him and your mother. He doesn’t look as calm anymore. There’s a furrow between his brows and a dimple in his cheek. You suppose any excuse is good to get some space.

“It’s really nice of you to think of me, mom. Sure, I... I wouldn’t want to disappoint anyone,” you shrug.

“No, you wouldn’t,” Bucky drones.

Your mom smiles, completely oblivious to his chagrin. “Well, it’s going to be so nice. Oh, why don’t we go and buy you a new dress? That’d would be perfect.”

Bucky hums dully and pokes at his plate. You do the same. You're not the best with strangers, and obviously, not with men. But someone your age would be easier to let down. Besides, it will get you out of the house.

#bucky barnes #dark bucky barnes #dark!bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #series #cool for the summer #fic #dark fic #au #dark!fic #mcu #marvel #captain america #avengers #winter soldier

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csuzlipofa · 2 days ago

Text

Willing to earn it

Daniela x Fem!reader

pt.1

Synopsis: Daniela is willing to do anything for you to trust her again. Will you accept her apology?

slow burn, hurt/comfort, mutual pining, fluff

Warnings: -

Weeks turned into months, but the ache never left. For you, the betrayal lingered like a shadow, refusing to dissipate no matter how much time passed. For Daniela, the guilt gnawed at her every day, an ever-present reminder of her own recklessness.

Her friends tried to move on, though the tension within the group was palpable. Even Megan stopped teasing Daniela, the reality of the fallout having sobered everyone. Sophia tried to smooth things over.

“Dani, you can’t keep beating yourself up,” Sophia said one afternoon as the group gathered at her house again. Daniela sat apart from them, staring at her untouched drink.

“It’s my fault,” Daniela muttered. “I hurt her. I don’t even know how to fix it.”

“You start by giving her space,” Lara offered gently. “You messed up, Dani. Big time. But if she ever forgives you, it’ll be on her terms—not yours.”

Daniela nodded but remained silent. She wasn’t sure she deserved forgiveness.

It was a Friday evening when your paths crossed again. You were at the local park, sketchbook in hand, the fading sunlight casting warm hues over the landscape. Drawing had always been your solace, a way to express the emotions you couldn’t voice.

You didn’t expect anyone to disturb you, least of all Daniela.

“Y/N,” her voice broke the quiet, hesitant but familiar.

You glanced up, your heart sinking at the sight of her. She looked different—exhausted, almost. The confidence she always carried seemed worn thin.

“What are you doing here?” you asked flatly, turning your attention back to your sketchbook.

“I—I didn’t mean to bother you,” she stammered. “I just… I wanted to talk.”

“There’s nothing to talk about,” you replied, your voice cold but trembling.

“There is,” Daniela said, stepping closer. “I know I don’t deserve a second chance, and I know I hurt you in a way I can’t take back. But I need you to know I’m sorry. Not just for the bet, but for everything—for making you feel like you were anything less than amazing.”

Her words hung in the air, and for a moment, you didn’t know what to say. Part of you wanted to yell, to scream at her for the pain she caused. But another part—the part that remembered the warmth in her smile and the way she made you feel seen—wanted to listen.

“Why now?” you asked quietly, finally meeting her eyes. “Why are you here?”

“Because I can’t keep pretending I’m okay with the way things are,” Daniela admitted. Her voice cracked, and she looked away, trying to compose herself. “You didn’t just change me, Y/N. You made me realize how empty everything else was—how much I needed someone who actually cared about me for me, not who I pretended to be.”

Tears pricked at your eyes, but you refused to let them fall. “And how do I know this isn’t just another game?”

“It’s not,” she said, her voice firm. “I swear, it’s not. I know I can’t make you believe me overnight, but I’ll spend as long as it takes proving it to you. Even if that means just being your friend. I’ll take whatever you’re willing to give me.”

You stared at her, searching her face for any hint of deception. But all you saw was sincerity—a vulnerability you’d never seen in Daniela before.

“I don’t know if I can forgive you,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.

“I understand,” she said softly. “But I’m not going anywhere, Y/N. Not until you tell me to.”

The two of you stood in silence, the weight of her words sinking in. For the first time in months, the walls around your heart wavered, if only slightly.

“I need time,” you finally said, closing your sketchbook and standing up. “That’s all I can give you right now.”

Daniela nodded, her expression a mix of hope and regret. “Take all the time you need. I’ll wait.”

As you walked away, you couldn’t help but glance back. Daniela was still standing there, watching you go, her hands shoved into her pockets and her shoulders slumped.

Over the next few weeks, Daniela kept her promise. She didn’t push, didn’t hover. Instead, she found small, subtle ways to show you she was serious. A cup of coffee left at your usual library spot with a sticky note that simply read “For the artist who never rests.” A carefully chosen book slipped into your locker, its title related to a topic you’d once mentioned in passing. She was persistent, but not intrusive, allowing you to take the lead if you wanted to.

At first, you ignored the gestures, brushing them off as attempts to ease her guilt. But over time, you started to notice the sincerity behind them. She wasn’t asking for anything in return. She wasn’t trying to force a conversation or even make her presence known. It was as if she was letting her actions speak louder than her words ever could.

One rainy afternoon, you found yourself standing in front of the coffee shop near school. You hadn’t planned on coming here, but the sudden downpour had forced you to seek refuge. As you shook the rain from your jacket, you glanced around the warm, cozy space.

And then you saw her. Daniela was sitting in the corner, a textbook open in front of her, a look of concentration on her face as she tapped her pen against the page. She hadn’t noticed you yet, and for a moment, you debated walking right back out.

But something stopped you.

With a deep breath, you approached her table. She looked up when you stopped in front of her, her eyes widening in surprise.

“Hey,” you said softly.

“Y/N,” she said, blinking as if she wasn’t sure you were real. “Hi. What are you doing here?”

You hesitated, clutching the strap of your bag. “The rain. I didn’t know you’d be here.”

“Oh.” She closed her textbook quickly, as if embarrassed to have been caught studying. “Do you… want to sit?”

You considered saying no, but instead, you nodded and slid into the chair across from her. The silence between you was heavy at first, but not uncomfortable.

“I’ve noticed the notes,” you said after a while, breaking the quiet.

Daniela’s face flushed, and she looked down at her hands. “I wasn’t sure if you’d want me to say anything directly. I didn’t want to make things harder for you.”

“You didn’t,” you admitted. “They were… nice.”

Her eyes lifted to meet yours, a flicker of hope in them. “Really?”

You nodded, looking down at the table. “I’ve been thinking a lot. About what you said. About everything.”

“And?” she asked cautiously.

You took a deep breath, your fingers tracing patterns on the wooden surface. “I’m still hurt, Daniela. What you did—it wasn’t fair. You made me feel like I could trust you, and then…”

“I know,” she interrupted gently. “I’ll never forgive myself for that. But I’m trying to be better, Y/N. Not just for you, but for myself. I’ve been selfish for a long time, and meeting you made me realize that. You made me want to be someone worth knowing.”

Her words hung in the air, and you could feel the sincerity in them. Part of you wanted to believe her, but the other part was still scared.

“I don’t know if I can trust you again,” you said honestly.

“I understand,” Daniela said quietly. “But I’m willing to earn it, even if it takes the rest of my life.”

You looked at her, seeing the vulnerability in her eyes—the same vulnerability she’d shown in the park. For the first time, you wondered if maybe, just maybe, she really had changed.

“Okay,” you said softly.

“Okay?” she repeated, her voice hopeful.

“I’m not saying I forgive you,” you clarified. “But… maybe we can try being friends. See where it goes from there.”

Daniela’s smile was small but genuine, a mixture of relief and gratitude. “I’d like that. A lot.”

For the first time in what felt like forever, you felt a weight lift from your chest. It wasn’t a perfect resolution, but it was a step forward.

As weeks turned into months, the tentative friendship between you and Daniela began to blossom into something deeper. She stayed true to her word, taking things slow, showing you through actions rather than words that she was committed to earning your trust.

She didn’t try to force her way back into your life. Instead, she met you where you were, celebrating your passions, listening when you opened up, and respecting your boundaries. The walls you had built around your heart began to crack, little by little, as Daniela proved herself in ways you hadn’t expected.

One crisp autumn evening, the two of you sat side by side at the park, your sketchbook balanced on your lap. Daniela leaned back against the bench, her hands tucked into her jacket pockets.

“This feels nice,” she said softly, looking up at the canopy of orange and gold leaves above you.

You glanced at her, your pencil pausing mid-sketch. “What does?”

“This. Just being here with you.” She turned to meet your eyes, her expression open and unguarded. “I never thought I could feel like this with someone. Like… I don’t have to pretend to be anything other than who I am.”

Her words caught you off guard, but you didn’t look away. Instead, you felt your heart ache—not with pain, but with something gentler, something warmer.

“You don’t have to pretend,” you said quietly.

A small smile tugged at her lips. “Thanks to you.”

For a moment, the two of you simply looked at each other, the world around you fading into the background. Then, as if drawn by an invisible force, she reached out, her hand hovering near yours on the bench.

You hesitated but then let your fingers brush against hers. The touch was tentative, like the first rays of sunlight breaking through a storm.

Daniela’s smile grew, her fingers curling gently around yours. “Is this okay?”

You nodded, your chest tight with an emotion you hadn’t dared to name before. “Yeah. It’s okay.”

In that moment, all the hurt and doubt seemed to melt away, replaced by the quiet promise of something new—something real.

Months later, as snow blanketed the ground and holiday lights twinkled in the windows of every house, you found yourself standing in front of the Avanzini family’s roaring fireplace. The girls were scattered around the room, laughing and exchanging gifts.

Daniela stood next to you, her hand intertwined with yours, a soft smile on her face as she looked at you. Her friends had accepted your relationship with surprising ease, and even Megan—who had once instigated the bet—had apologized to you in her own awkward way.

“You okay?” Daniela asked, leaning in so only you could hear her.

You looked up at her, the warmth in her eyes making your heart flutter. “I’m more than okay.”

She grinned, pulling you a little closer. “Good. Because I’m not letting you go. Ever.”

You rolled your eyes playfully but couldn’t help the smile that spread across your face. For the first time in a long time, you felt whole.

And as Daniela pressed a soft kiss to your temple, you knew that despite everything, you’d found something worth holding onto—a love that had grown from the ashes of a broken trust, stronger and brighter than you ever thought possible.

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