#but this was the first time i ever saw two girls kiss on television and GIRL.....life changed

[charlieconwayy]

Top 50 OTPs Of All Time ☆ #45. Paige Michalchuk & Alex Nunez

"I said you were nothing to me, which is a total lie, because right now, you're pretty much everything."

[buck-star]

Summer of love | B.B

Just before summer break you think you will spend all day in front of the television with lot of ice cream and even more romantic movies to dream about. Little do you know that your ex-boyfriend’s rival will turn your summer into a dream itself.

Pairing: College!Bucky Barnes x College!Fem!Reader

Wordcount: 11.106 Words

Warnings: college au, football captain Bucky, ex-boyfriend’s rival!Bucky, break up (not Bucky), fluff, love, bit angst, Bucky being emotional, love confession, more fluff, so much more fluff, did I mention: fluff!

Authors Note: The biggest thank you to @thevillainswhore for the title, for helping to decide pictures and proofreading. I’m so grateful and I love you!❤️❤️

Events: Writing Challenge | College Au; saying ‘I love you’ for the first time | @elixirfromthestars

Bucky Barnes Bingo | B023 | Y2 | AU: Sports | @buckybarnesbingo | Seasonal Delights Bingo: Types of love | G5 | unlikely friendship | @seasonaldelightsbingo | Multifandom Flash Bingo: Compliments | Row One-Three | I’ll take that as a compliment | @multifandom-flash

Masterlist | Bucky Barnes Masterlist

Your world broke down when you looked at your phone and saw the message your boyfriend — now ex-boyfriend — sent you. It was just after the last lesson of the day — summer break had started.

You were sure as hell that he was going to fuck every girl that had an interest in him, which were a lot considering he was the captain of one of the college’s football teams.. He was handsome and well trained but his character? Well, that was something you would prefer not to talk about.

John was a nice, gentle boy when the two of you were alone. He took care of you and made you feel loved — most of the time at least. But whenever he was around his friends or anywhere the two of you could be seen together, he kept his distance. He didn’t bother to hold your hand or kiss you in public. When you had dates outside your dorms, it was mostly in small coffee shops or the next town where no one would see you together.

When you repeatedly asked him if he was ashamed,  he would just shake his head and tell you that you overreacted, that he just has to keep his image, he couldn’t  just date anybody. You tried to tell him that other boys show off their girls too but he still kept your relationship as much a secret as possible.

Even though people heard the rumor that the two of you were dating — some of them having seen you —he never made it clear that you belong to him. So you often had the bitchy girls who laughed at you, gave you side eyes or commented on your relationship with John. ‘How fake it was’ — and maybe they were right.

However, while John was probably using his whole summer to have fun and fuck around — having the best time ever — you would probably sit in your room and cry until your eyes burned. He hadn’t treated you as perfect as you wished for, like men do in your romantic books or movies, but he still ripped your heart out and shattered it into tiny little pieces. So, chocolate and lots of ice cream would become your best friends during your summer break, giving you the comfort you so desperately sought. You were sure you wouldn’t find a man who  would love you.

Maybe it wasn't even  that he broke up with you that hurt you so much, but the way he did it — through a message. He didn’t even have enough balls to tell you personally that he was done with you. No, he sent it as a message — two messages in fact, which now that you thought about it, made you want to punch him in his face. Hard.

You figured that was the reason why he hadn’t told you face to face. Because he didn’t want the backlash of your reaction. You may have been angry, but you would never lay a hand on him — even if he did deserve it. He may have broken your heart but you weren’t a monster. But for now, you were still sitting in school, staring at the message to try and find a little hint that it all was a joke. Your eyes were teary and your vision blurry when you re-read the message over and over again. There had to be a hint that it was a joke. He wouldn’t break up with you, right?

The feeling that John really meant those words settled heavily into your stomach. You inhaled deeply to try and stop your body from shaking. He couldn’t  mean it — he just couldn’t. The two of you were together for two years already and he threw it away like it meant nothing to him. Or maybe the reason he mentioned in his messages is true and he just wanted to have a summer break.

Your eyes roamed over your phone once again. The screen was blurred by your tears but you could still read it. Over and over again but it didn’t change a thing, it only made your thoughts run faster and  louder, but nothing else.

John: Hi, I’ll make it short. Things between us became boring and I know you wouldn’t allow me to have sex with anyone. Even though there wouldn’t be any feelings, I have to break up with you.

John: It’s neither your nor my fault, we just remind me of old people. We’re always doing the same things and I need action. So if you give me the summer break, we can date after the summer again.

He was your first real boyfriend but you didn't want to be second best. That’s exactly what you would be if you went back to him after summer break. He broke your heart, and he hurt you a lot — but that didn’t  mean you were a naive, little fucktoy for him to use becuase it was easy to date you. You never complained much and he always had you when he didn't feel well or frustrated.

And John may have been right that things between the two of you became boring, but he never had time for you in the first place. Everything else was more important and when he did have time for you, it was mostly sex or he came over really late. The dates became very rare, and you just wished he would have had more time for you but you didn’t want to push him or force him either.

You lowered your phone and inhaled deeply. With one hand you wiped the tears off your face, trying to calm down before you felt ready to go home. They all were right, he played with you, or at least he was ashamed to be with you and you never noticed — or just ignored it.

“Whatcha doin’ here?” A rough voice came from next to you and you immediately tilted your head to look at the young man who took a place next to you on a chair. His brown, long hair was tied to a bun, just a few strands fell into his handsome face and framed it. He smiled softly at you, leaning on the table with his head still turned toward you. “Who’s causing those tears?”

His smile slowly faded when he noticed your red eyes and the traces of tears over your cheek. Almost instinctively, he brought one of his hands to your cheeks, cupping it softly. His thumb caressed your cheek, removing the tears. The brown haired man was gentle, his ocean blue eyes pierced into yours and when you finally offered him a soft smile, he grinned at you, again.

“So, who caused this pretty girl to cry at the beginning of summer break,” he asked, his voice rough but so soft. You almost melted into his touch, his warmth sending shivers through your body and you needed a moment to gather your thoughts before you spoke.

“I— my boyfriend or now ex-boyfriend. He sent me a message that he wants to have the summer for himself and after we could date again,” you answered, smiling softly at the man in front of you. He shook his head, knowing that the smile on your lips was nothing but fake, and as much as he loved to see you smile, he didn’t  want you to force one onto your lips to play your hurt off. “What are you doing here still, James?”

James’ eyes widened when his name slipped past your lips. Before he could stop himself, he grinned even wider at you. “Ya know my name, huh, babydoll? I had something to clear up with the coach.”

“Of course, I do. You're one of the most famous boys in college,” you said and he nodded. You weren’t  wrong. Even students who didn’t follow football knew of him too. On the other hand, your ex-boyfriend was James' rival. “You're the captain of the football team, or the captain of one of them. The other is John…”

James nodded again, then he cleared his throat and tilted your head up with his hand that still captured your cheek. “Yeah…” he trailed off slightly. “So, can we get back to ya statement, that he sent ya a message to break up with ya. Ya know that’s how little school boys do it.”

You chuckled softly, nodding. You definitely knew that it wasn’t a nice way to break up with someone you used to love but you couldn’t change it. You let your eyes trail over James' handsome face for a moment, taking in every small detail of his pretty face. You had never been this close to him before and he looked even more stunning up close.

“Ya droolin’, babydoll,” James pointed out and used his pointer finger to close your mouth. Your eyes widened and you wiped over your mouth, growling at him when you didn't feel the saliva. “Jus’ wanted to warn ya before ya make a fool out of ya'self.”

You nodded, glaring at him for a moment longer before you finally found the courage and the words to tell him what was on your mind since he mentioned that John's behavior was kind of childish. You inhaled deeply, letting your eyes wander back to his beautiful blue ones. Your tongue poked out, wetting your lips and you noticed with a giggle that James eyes immediately darted down to your lips.

“It's not the only shitty thing he did,” you mumbled. James' eyes widened in curiosity. He didn’t  want to push you to tell him, but he would have loved to hear what his rival was like when he had such a pretty girl like you by his side. “He said we became boring, and that's neither mine nor his fault. Maybe he is right, but he never had time, it was mostly about sex, or nights together but otherwise he was always busy.”

You weren’t even sure why you told James about that but he was the only one who seemed curious and you just hoped he wouldn't use it against you. If anything, he would probably only use it against John.

James nodded, his eyes narrowed and he looked away for a moment. His hand never left your cheek and it gave you more comfort than you thought it would. But you were glad he sat down next to you and used his time to let you talk about John, offering you the comfort you were seeking so badly. When he looked back at you, his eyes glistened with something you had never seen before but it made you feel warm and safe with him.

“What a shame, with such a pretty girl by his side too…” he mumbled more to himself. “Did he at least introduce ya to his friends and family? The two of ya were together for over two years, right?”

You nodded slightly, definitely surprised by James' knowledge of your and John's relationship. “Yes but he didn't introduce me to his family. I know his friends but not really, he always tried to meet up when no one else was around.”

“So….” James trailed off, he already knew the answer but he wanted to hear it again — he wanted to hear that John was a dick who couldn't treat his girlfriend like a man but like a school boy. His ocean blue eyes were piercing into yours again, his lips were slightly curled up. “He didn't show you off — neither to his family, nor to his friends, when possible — not to the world?”

You shook your head. “N-No, not once… his friends saw us together maybe once or twice but we never went to their birthdays together. I-I was invited too, but John said I wouldn't like it there so he already told them I wasn’t interested in coming to their parties.”

“Dickhead,” James mumbled under his breath. His eyes never left yours and he inhaled deeply. “He's an idiot.”

You shrugged, smiling softly. But as much as you tried to hide the pain, it didn’t work with Bucky looking at you so intensely like he could read your soul. His fingers still caressed your cheek, two of them moving to your jaw and wandering along to your chin and back to your ear. “It's not that much of a big deal…”

James huffed with an amused expression on his face, shaking his head slightly. The few strands that hung in his face moved with his head from side to side. You wanted to wrap them around your fingers and play with his brown strands. “Oh, ya don't know how much of a big deal that is when a boy doesn't show off his girl by his side. If ya were mine, I would show you off to everyone — would make sure everyone knows you belong to me. I would even kiss ya in public, so everyone would know that this pretty girl is mine — would show ya off to everyone! Whatever ya ask for, wish for, it would be yours so ya know how much I care about ya.”

“What if—“ you thought for a moment before speaking your thoughts out loud. “If I would ask for the world, or for the stars? You can’t give them to me.” You chuckled softly, your heart beat faster when you heard his words. But at the same time you knew that he couldn’t give you everything. As much as a person loves someone, no one can give one the world, or the stars right?

“Trust me, babydoll, if you asked me for the world, I would get it for you. You want the stars? Oh, babydoll, you would get even those. A man has to carry his princess in his hands or else he isn’t worth her attention and love,” James said, he let his hand travel from your cheek to your chin. He tilted your head up with his hand underneath your chin, getting all of your attention. “How about that… ya put your stuff into ya bag. And then I invite ya to get ice cream with me.”

James pulled your stuff closer and waited patiently for you to put it into your bag. He leaned back in his seat, his ocean blue eyes roaming over your body, mostly over your face. You put your things into your bag, his offer is too good to say no. With one smooth movement you closed the zipper of your bag.

You got off, and swung the bag to carry it over your shoulder but James grasped it with one hand and took it out of your hand. With a smirk he got up as well and walked towards the door of the classroom, waiting for you to follow him.

“Whatcha looking like that? Ya comin’ or want to stay there all day?” He grinned at you. With his free hand, he tucked a strand of his long, brown hair behind his ear. “Told ya, a man has to carry his girl in his hands, now get ya pretty ass over here or I’m gonna eat all the ice cream by myself.”

Your mouth dropped open at his words, clearly to his amusement. You walked toward him, closing your mouth slowly before you reached for your bag but James turned to the side and trapped it between him and the door. He smirked at you, holding his hand into the direction he wanted you to walk. James' slightly raised eyebrow gave you no room to argue with him.

“You don’t know if my ass is pretty, maybe you don’t like it,” you said with a shrug. James waited a moment before he followed you, his eyes roaming down your back to your swinging hips and your ass. He had to hold back a moan as a response to your beauty and the way your hips swayed from one side to the other.

He then walked through the hallway, following you until he walked next to you. “Ya have the most beautiful ass I’ve ever seen. But I couldn't have imagined it otherwise, ya’re the prettiest girl.”

It wasn’t like he had checked out a lot of girls, almost none since he had a crush on someone. James couldn’t look at another girl the same anymore after he fell in love, it felt like he had cheated and he didn’t like the feeling, even though the girl didn’t even know he was in love with her.

“Do you have a girlfriend, James? I mean, you're a football captain, handsome, nice. You should go to her instead of getting ice cream with your rival's ex-girlfriend,” you asked, curious about the captain's answer. You didn’t know much about him, he wasn’t a playboy — that was for sure. You had only seen him fielding once with a girl, maybe it was just talking to her.

“No girlfriend. Have a crush on someone but she doesn’t know about it,” he said with a shrug and opened the front door to let you walk outside first. You thanked him, feeling butterflies in your stomach about such a small but meaningful gesture. “Ya can call me Bucky. Most of my friends call me Bucky.”

“Okay, then, Bucky, who don’t you tell her?” A groan left his plump lips and you giggled softly. That was the topic every guy tried to avoid when he talked to girls. But since it was just you and him, he would maybe tell you more about her. “You look good but don’t talk to girls, that’s definitely a good thing when it comes to girls.”

Bucky nodded. He knew what girls liked and what they didn’t like — mostly because of his friends in the team who had girlfriends. He was not just once in the middle of an argument where he had to assure the girl that the team went out without other girls.

“I know, but ya know. Don’t think she even noticed me.” Bucky said, leading you to his car. His big hand had found its way to the small of your back after you had left the building with him. His hand was warm and comforting.

“How can someone not notice you? You’re the captain of the football team.” You were almost shocked about his statement. Everyone who wasn’t completely new in school knew about the captains of the teams — mostly even knew about the other members of the team. They were all pretty handsome and the typical guy girls read in books when they tried to make their perfect boyfriend in their minds.

“Because not everyone likes football? Some people ignore us too,” Bucky said. He opened his car, letting you sit before he shut the door and walked around the car, getting into it as well. He had a dark blue Jeep, it was clean and you were surprised that it was really that clean.

Bucky was a college boy, a football college boy. So you thought he would have a messy car, but instead it was even cleaner than yours would probably be.

“You really love that car?” You earned a nod, followed by a chuckle. Bucky's cheeks heated up and he wanted to hit his head against the steering wheel, he made a fool out of himself with you being so close to him.

“Yeah, don’t like it messy. Ya, don’t look at me like that, I know whatcha wanted to say!” Bucky laughed, starting the car to drive the two of you to his favorite ice shop. “You will love the ice there, they have more flavors than you can imagine.”

The two of you stayed silent for a moment, both stuck in your minds and thoughts. Your eyes were focused on Bucky while he was focused on the street. Even though he didn’t turn his head, he watched you out of the corner of his eye, smirking to himself when he noticed that you stared at him once again.

After a few minutes you cleared your throat, getting him to turn his face for a moment toward you. Bucky offered you a soft smile before his eyes darted back to the street, but he was still letting you know that he listens to you with a hum.

“Why are you doing this for me? I mean, you don’t know me and I’m just the pathetic ex-girlfriend of your rival,” you asked, smacking yourself mentally for even asking that. But you didn’t want him to do that for you because he felt pity.

“I will tell ya at the end of the summer break,” he said, his eyes finding yours once again. He could see the way you were looking at him, that there was more behind the question than just curiosity. “You’re not a burden and I don’t do it because I feel pity for you, so get those thoughts out of your pretty mind immediately, babydoll.”

You chuckled, eyes still remaining on Bucky while he drove the two of you to the ice cream shop he loved so much. Little did you know, it was also your favorite one, only when you arrived did your eyes widen and you stared at Bucky with an excited glisten in your eyes. He grinned at you, getting out of the car to almost run around so he could open the door for you, while you stared at the shop with a huge grin on your face.

“My lady,” Bucky smirked and offered you his hand to take. He helped you get out of the car, his lips curled even further up when he noticed that you couldn’t take your eyes off the ice cream shop. “Like that?”

“I—” you trailed off, letting your eyes wander to meet Bucky's ocean blue ones. You smirked at him, raising an eyebrow before clearing your throat to hide the excitement. Even though you were pretty sure Bucky knew how excited you were already. “I don't just like it… I LOVE IT. That's my favorite ice cream shop!”

You had always wanted to go here with John, but he would just shake his head and tell you that the one closer to your apartment was just as good or that this one was too expensive for just ice cream. He wasn't wrong, it wasn’t as cheap as other smaller ones. But the others didn’t have that amount of different ice creams and they didn’t taste as good as they did in your favorite ice cream shop.

Bucky nodded, taking your hand into his and interlacing your fingers. His grip was firm but so comforting that you didn’t even think about removing your hand from his. The two of you walked then slowly to the entrance of the little building. It wasn’t as full as you thought it would be, even a few tables were free and you already looked around to find the best place before you had even decided which ice cream you wanted.

“You already know what you want?” Bucky asked and got your attention back. He had already pulled you toward the counter, greeting the woman behind it. The brown haired man didn’t offer her the smile he showed you, she only got a small grin which didn't even reach his sparkling eyes. The moment his eyes landed on you, his eyes were even softer and his smile bigger, lighting up the blue in his eyes. “You can have as many as you want.”

“I know I'm gonna pay for my ice cream myself.” You mumbled and looked at all the different ones to decide which ones you wanted. Bucky grunted, he would definitely pay for the ice cream, he wouldn't have asked you if he let you pay for it yourself. He nodded slowly, glaring at the woman behind the counter, letting her know that he would pay. You looked up at her, smiling softly. “I—”

You stuttered when you tried to decide if you really wanted those flavors or different but then you let her finally know which you wanted. Your eyes wandered to Bucky, who had a mischievous grin on his face and you rolled your eyes, letting your head fall against his shoulder and looked up at him.

“You won't let me pay for my ice cream, right?” He shook his head, looking down at you with the most intense but softest expression you had ever seen on someone's face. You were not sure what there was between you and him but it gave you the comfort you were always looking for — you didnt really know him but it felt like you had known him forever already.

“I asked you out, so I'm gonna pay. No discussion, just get your ice cream and get us a table,” Bucky said and leaned his head against yours for a moment until the woman behind the counter gave you your ice cream and you did as you were told after mumbling a soft ‘thank you’ into Bucky's shoulder.

— —

The first few days of summer break you spent in your apartment, wrapped into a blanket and watching a lot of movies while eating even more ice cream. But instead of crying your eyes out, you had company from your — now — best friend. After your ice cream date with Bucky the two of you walked through the park until the sun went down and even then you two had so much more to talk about — so you offered to meet him the next day. And that's exactly what the two of you did, since then you met every day.

Bucky always brought you small presents and gave you a lot of compliments. You could stand in front of him in a dress or in your pajamas with messy hair — he always told you how beautiful and stunning you were. You first didn't believe him, thinking it was just a joke but whenever you looked into his ocean blue eyes, there was nothing but the truth and love visible.

Today he asked you to go out with him again. He had a surprise and who were you to say no to such a sweet and gentle man? Bucky didn’t just help you to forget about John, but he also showed you what love and affection really meant. He wasn’t afraid to show you off to the world, even though you were not his girl, yet.

“Babydoll, are ya ready?” he asked, peeking through the door of your bedroom with a smirk. Bucky knew that you were at least dressed, otherwise he wouldn't look without permission. When his eyes met yours you blushed softly but shook your head.

Bucky's eyes widened, he then narrowed them and took a step into your bedroom. You looked so perfect in your outfit — just like always, so why weren’t you ready? He noticed the slight struggle in your eyes when he let his roam over your body. Without a word he understood what was stopping you from being ready for your date with him.

Bucky walked closer, his arms reaching out and pulling you toward him. He snook his arms around your waist, pressing his broad chest against your back before he turned the two of you around so you were looking at the two of you in the mirror. “You're beautiful, look at ya. Ya’re the most beautiful and I'm honored that you allow me to take ya out. Don't ya think you look pretty?”

You swallowed thickly. Bucky looked stunning, always so perfectly fine and every girl was staring at him. He could have anyone and the feelings you developed slowly for him didn’t 

 help your running thoughts — they only made it worse. Especially because John had never asked you out like that, he never wanted to show you off to anyone. But Bucky acted like you were the only girl in the world — little did you know, in his world you were the only one.

“Y-You're so pretty…” You mumbled, causing Bucky to chuckle into your neck. He had his head placed on your shoulder, staring at you in his arms through the mirror with a smile. He wouldn’t leave the room, not until he’s sure it was what you wanted too — otherwise he would just carry you into the living room and cuddle with you all night. “You're so perfect, stunning. Every girl is always staring at you, and you could have them all… And I am just me.”

“Ya don't understand, do ya? I don't care who is looking at me, they can look all they want,” Bucky said into your neck, trying to hold himself back so he wouldn’t confess everything. “Do ya remember the day where we went the first time to the ice cream shop? Ya said it ya’self, that I'm not a playboy. Let them look, they aren't out with me, are they? Plus the thing I’ve planned for the two of us is just ya and me.”

He wanted to say so much more, but he just couldn’t. At least not right now, it wasn’t that he didn’t mean it or is scared, but he wanted to prove it all to you, before he made the next step. Bucky wanted you to see that he meant everything he said and then — then he would do the next step with you.

You nodded softly, letting Bucky lead you out of the bedroom. His arms were still around your waist, his chest pressed against your back while the two of you walked through the floor toward your living room to pick up your phone and his bag.

“Do you trust me, babydoll?” With a soft smirk you turned your head to face Bucky, nodding slightly once again. “Then trust me that you're stunning and you are you but that's the point, that's what makes you special. You make yourself special.”

Bucky’s expression was soft but serious. You didn’t have words, knowing that he meant every single word he said without doubt.

“T-thank you,” you mumbled, sending a shiver through Bucky’s body. He adored the way you reacted whenever he made a compliment, so shy and just cute.

He led you to his car, still being such a gentleman and when you first thought it was just to impress you, you were now pretty sure that Bucky was always like that around someone he likes. He didn’t promise you too much when he said that a man had to carry his girl in his hands — you may not have been his girl but he did it anyway.

As much as you tried to find out where the two of you were going, he didn't tell you. Bucky was good at changing topics when it came to a surprise and you didn't get the tiniest of information out of him.

Bucky kept his soft smile the whole time while he drove the car through the streets of the town, you were pretty sure you sometimes drove in circles so he could confuse you because everything looked alike. When he stopped the car in a quiet, almost empty parking space.

“So, ya can either close ya eyes and promise me to keep them close, or I’m gonna use that pretty scarf to cover ya eyes until we’re there.” He held a soft, fluffy scarf in front of him and you trusted him enough that he wouldn’t let you run against something. You knew you would try to sneak, so you had to decide that Bucky should use the scarf to cover your eyes.

“I- maybe… I won’t sneak?” You giggled, it didn't sound serious enough for Bucky so he just wrapped the soft fabric around your head and tied it together. You felt his warm breath against your cheek, your breath hitched and you dug your fingers into your thighs, trying to calm the butterflies in your stomach.

“So, how many fingers do you see?” Bucky chuckled, leaning back to hold his hands in front of your face. Instead of fingers he made a heart with his hands, smirking at you.

Your chuckle brought him back to reality, his eyes shot from your lips back to your covered eyes and he waited for an answer. “Mhm…. Three?” You giggled, not seeing anything because of the scarf in front of your eyes.

“Guess again,” he smirked, letting his hand fall down before he got out of the car. Bucky walked around, opening the door for you to help you out as well. He took care that you didn’t hit your head somewhere. “We are walking a bit but it’s not far, and I promise I won’t let you run into something.”

With that he wrapped his arms around your waist from behind, pulling you tight against his chest to make sure he had control where to go and that you wouldn’t fall or hurt yourself somewhere.

You had never trusted someone before that much that you would have let them cover your eyes and lead you somewhere. But with Bucky it felt different, you knew that — you felt it — that he would never do anything where you could be in danger or hurt yourself. You trusted him with everything, and you used every opportunity to show him just that.

Bucky led you a bit, holding you firmly pressed against him. His fingers played with the fabric of your dress, tickling you softly. “Don’t squirm, babydoll.”

“Then don’t tickle me,” you giggled, trying to get away from his tickles. Bucky laughed, pulling you even closer but stopped tickling you.

“Can’t keep my hands to myself when it causes such sweet noises from you,” he mumbled into your neck. The two of you walked a bit further and when you inhaled deeply you smelt some flowers but also water. You didn’t know where you were, but it had to be pretty because Bucky told you that he had never brought people there with him before.

When Bucky stopped he took a step backwards, one of his hands remaining on you, while he untied the scarf around your head. The soft fabric fell down your face and you caught one side of it with your hands, the other was stuck in Bucky’s big hand.

You needed a moment to get used to the sun but when you opened your eyes and looked around your mouth drops open. Bucky had brought a blanket and food there. In front of you was also a small lake surrounded by trees and some floors in front of it. It was the most beautiful place you had ever seen.

“B-Bucky…” you said quietly, turning your head to face Bucky. He grinned at you, his eyes shining beautiful in the light of the sun combined with the way he smiled at you. He was proud of himself for making you happy and impressed with such a small gesture. “This is… it’s amazing. I love it, it’s so beautiful.”

He let go of you to take a step away, taking out his phone. He opeed the camera and turned around, pulling you in front of him, his arm wrapping protectively around your waist as he snapped a photo of the two of you. Only when he showed you the photo did you notice why he took a step to the side — it now showed everything, the trees, the flowers, the lake, the blanket with the food and the two of you with a huge smile across your faces.

“Ya know, it’s my new background now,” Bucky explained as he made it his new background. Now you were smiling at him every time he turned his phone on. And everyone knew you were his.

You smiled, already decided that you were going to use that or a picture you would take of him or him and you as background as well. It was such a sweet idea and you would love to look at him whenever you looked at your phone.

“Now sit down. I made the cake myself!” Bucky said with a proud smirk on his face as he pointed at the cake. It was your favorite one, you told him about it and you already noticed that it just looked like the description you gave him.

“You’re the best.” With a giggle you sat down, Bucky did the same, taking a seat next to you and offering you some food and drinks.

The cake was perfect, just like you described it and you wouldn’t have know better, you would have guessed he bought it from a baker. You suggested that Bucky could become a baker, he would be rich in no time. But he just chuckled and shook his head.

His eyes roamed over your face before he looked into your eyes once again. He was the first person you didn’t mind staring into one another’s eyes for hours. “I’m only baking for my best girl.”

Your cheeks heated up and you had to look away. You were still not used to all his compliments and sweet words. And Bucky used every opportunity to make you blush, loving the way you smiled shyly at him before you had to look away for a moment. But then, you couldn’t even look away for long, and he adored the effect he had on you, he could spend all day just watching you giggle and blushing. Bucky wouldn’t mind listening to you all day either, as long as it was you who was around.

The two of you sat there, talking about everything and nothing. You had never laughed that much with someone like you did with Bucky. He knew all your weaknesses and strengths, the two of you hadn’t even talked for over two weeks but he was your best friend already. The only one you knew you could be completely honest and open around, he could read you like a book anyway.

When the sun went down, you were sitting between Bucky's legs, your back pressed against his chest. He drew small circles on your stomach while you watched the sunset. It was the most beautiful yellow followed by red until it was only the clouds that were still painted in a slight pink before it became dark around you.

You shivered lightly in Bucky arms, pressing yourself further against him. With a smirk he removed his hands from you, grasping his bag. “I have a present for ya,” he told you before he placed his bag in front of you. “Open it.”

Your slightly shaking hands opened the zipper of his backpack and your eyes narrowed when you saw just some fabric inside until you noticed what it was. Your eyes widened when you tilted your head slightly and took it out of the bag. In your hands you held a hoodie, and it wasn’t just one. It was Bucky’s football hoodie, where his number and his name were big on the back. You pulled it closer, burying your face in his hoodie and inhaling his scent. Bucky chuckled, he looked at you like a puppy in love — and he was exactly that. “Y-You give me your hoodie?”

Bucky leaned his head on your shoulder, nodding. “If ya want to. Ya can also have another one or just for yet so ya won't freeze. But actually I thought I would love the sight of my name on ya back.”

Sometime at the start of the summer break, the two of you made that unwritten plan to spend all the time together. You never asked him if you could spend some more time, neither did he. He just took you out, making sure you wanted to but slowly he had the feeling you could have moved into his apartment with him. He knew he hugged you all the time, made sure you’re happy and the urge to tell you about his true feelings got bigger with every day.

But as much as he wanted to tell you — he didn’t want to do it just yet. He wanted to give you the whole summer break to see that he didn’t have the intention to get into bed with you. Bucky wanted you to see that you were worth so much more than what John was willing to give you. Bucky wanted to show you what real love meant, he wanted you to crave him just as much as he craved you.

This night Bucky spent at your apartment, he made pudding for the two of you. The two of you were wrapped in a blanket together and he held you as close as possible. You had the best sleep in years, knowing that Bucky would be still there in the morning when you woke up. And you were right, he had you pulled onto him, your head resting on his chest and you listened to his steady heartbeat. His heartbeat and his scent had such a calming effect on you, and you used every opportunity to be as close to him as possible. His arms, his embrace felt like home.

His morning voice was the hottest you could imagine, it was slightly rougher than his usual and it sent shivers down your spine every time. Bucky almost moved into your apartment with time, he brought most of his stuff like clothes so he could spend all day and all night with you. And even though he allowed you to take his clothes if you wanted, he didn't realise he would have to wash them so often because you stopped wearing yours. So you both wore Bucky clothes — you offered him to wear yours and he once tried a dress of yours.

You took a picture of him, making it your new background. Or it was more a picture of the thick, muscular football captain in a red dress of yours, while you wore the hoodie with his name and number on his back. The two of you stood in front of the table, your chest pressed against Buckys, while he held the phone and took the picture.

As much as you loved to go out with Bucky, you also loved the times when it was just the two of you. Bucky was a perfect cook and baker. So he either cooked for the two of you or you did it together, same went for baking.

The two of you ended up as snowmen one time, it started with you accidentally blowing the flour at Bucky. He then took way too much flour and let it fall down over your head with a huge grin across his face. Little did he know that you would grab the whole bowl and throw it at him. His reaction was to run away and into the wall by accident so he was trapped between the wall and the fridge.

It was a lot to clean, especially because Bucky hugged you and was smearing all the flour he had on his clothes on yours. You were sure you could have baked a whole cake with the amount of flour the two of you used for our little snowman action.

But the most special moment for you was two weeks before school started again. Your best friend has asked you out so often, you made trips together and spent every minute together. But when he asked you to come to Steve's birthday your mouth dropped open and you didn’t know how to respond. Of course, you would have loved to but John never wanted to have you around his friends — around his team. And Steve was one of Bucky's football team members, so there would be a lot of other people too. With a lot of assurance from Bucky you agreed and there you were now.

Bucky stood with his big hand on the small of your back next to you, looking down. The two of you were in front of Steve's house and you knew that you could still say no and Bucky would have immediately drove you back home. “I-I… Are you sure you want to be seen with me, Bucky?”

His eyes widened and he narrowed them. His hand wandered up to your shoulders to turn you toward him. His other hand settled itself on your chin and made you look directly into his intense blue eyes. “I'm more than sure that I want everyone to see us together. Babydoll, I’m not ashamed of ya, but if ya don't feel comfortable we can go home and watch movies.”

Home. You could go home. Yours, Buckys. It was more than just your apartment now, it was everything because even Bucky called it home.

“N-No, I think I can do that,” you mumbled nodding with a soft smile. You inhaled deeply, feeling Bucky's big hand take yours and interlacing your fingers with his. He then leaned down and kissed your cheek softly. You felt a shiver run down your spine, you were so in love with him but too shy to tell him — it would maybe ruin your friendship so you just enjoyed him being so close to you.

“If ya want to go home, ya gonna tell me,” Bucky said, his voice soft but leaving no room for discussion. So you nodded once again. Bucky smirked at you, knocking at the door which swung open almost immediately. The man grinning at the two of you was just as big as Bucky, his hair was way shorter and blond. His eyes were as blue as Buckys and you looked him up and down for a moment.

“Thought you won’t like to come in,” Steve said with a chuckle, letting both of you walk into his house. His eyes roamed over his friend, then over you until he noticed your interlaced fingers. Bucky squeezed your hand even more, pulling slightly  you closer to him with a raised eyebrow at Steve.

They both have a moment of silent communication. Steve knew what was going on, he knew who you were. Not because you were John's ex-girlfriend. He knew you because of Bucky, who just couldn’t stop looking at you. The two men had a lot of talks, where Bucky just needed to tell him about you, that he had to have you and that he was so fucking in love with you.

“Happy Birthday,” you said after a moment, getting both men's attention. Steve smiled at you nodding.

“Thank you. Now get inside, the others can't wait to get to know ya girl, Buck,” Steve said and walked in front of the two of you. He knew that Bucky was going to mention that you were not his girl — at least not yet — but you were his best friend. To Steve's surprise the statement never came, and Bucky just grinned down at you, his eyes shining when he led you through the hallway to the living room where the others were.

“Ya don’t mind him calling ya my girl, do ya?” Bucky asked, knowing that you didnt mind it. None of the two of you had ever said those three words yet, but he knew you felt the same for him. Bucky had seen you shivering and giggling enough whenever someone mentioned that you and Bucky were a couple. But he also noticed the soft, sad flash across your face when someone did, knowing that you were scared to fully give in to your feelings without having any voices in your mind that told you you were not worth it.

You just didn’t understand that you were everything for Bucky. You always were, you always would be. But you were sometimes stuck in your mind, thinking about all the girls who looked better than you — all the ones he could have. And then you didn’t notice that he didn’t m care about a single one of them, for Bucky it was just you. You were his one and you Would always  be his one — he would spend his lifetime to make sure you understood that there could be everyone but he only wanted you.

“I don't mind that,” you giggled, following Steve further into the living room. ‘I actually love it when people notice that I belong to you’.

Every pair of eyes was on you and Bucky when you walked into the room. Some of them were curious, some of them had an expression on their faces like ‘knew it, pal’. Through the whole evening and night Bucky introduced you to everyone with a proud smile. His hands were always somewhere on you, either around your waist or holding your hand.

His teammates were really nice, they were interested in you. And you had a lot of fun with them all, no one was mean and even the girls — mostly girlfriends of the other boys — were nice. They never looked at you with judgeful expression but they talked and laughed with you. No jealousy, no hate — just fun and a bunch of new friends.

You never would have thought it would feel amazing to be shown off by a man who owned your heart. But with Bucky it felt just perfect.

After the party you spent a few more nights with Bucky and the others, they became your friends and everyone knew that the two of you really needed to confess your love for one another. Most of the time Bucky was either hugging you from behind or you were sitting on his lap. There was no just you or just Bucky — it was always you and Bucky.

The weekend before college started again Bucky had to go to his apartment again. He called you every night, sleeping with you on the phone or he just watched you half of the night because he still couldn't keep his eyes off of you. Heeas addicted to you, you were like his air — he needed you to live.

So while he had some talks with the team and the coach and also organized all of his school stuff, you did the same. Most of the time you wrote him messages and waited for his response. Until the sunday before school, where you felt like your heart was ripped out of your chest.

John: Hey, I'm sorry I broke up with you. It was a shit decision and I couldn’t stop thinking about you all summer break. I love you.

John: I know you love me too. You know there is no one who loves you, they all just play with you. You're pretty but they only want to fuck you, come back to me and let me make it better this time.

Sobs and tears wrecked your body, you couldn’t  believe him. He hadn’t  tried to talk to you the whole summer break and suddenly he wanted you back. And maybe he was right, no one else showed any interest in you, only John. But now you had Bucky, who spent all summer break with you, he showed you what it meant to be loved even though he was ‘just’ your best friend. Bucky could have asked to have sex with you the whole time but he never did, he just wanted to cuddle, to see you happy, so maybe John was wrong and there was someone who loved you without just wanting to have sex.

Bucky wrote you a few — a lot of messages — and tried to call you but you didn’t answer him. Maybe he wanted to tell you that he had enough of you, that he was going to be happier with someone else. You didn’t want him to hear your broken voice and you didn’t want him to see your tears because of John's messages.

You didn’t love him anymore, but the voices in your mind — the ones John could control so perfectly — screamed at you, that he was right. So you just wrapped yourself into a blanket and watched all the movies Bucky loved, making your heart ache even more, especially when his scent came into your nose whenever you moved because of the hoodie you were wearing – his hoodie.

Bucky told you that he would be busy all day with the coach and the team but it didn't stop him from sending one after another message, calling you every hour until he started to speak messages on your voicemail.

Bucky: Hi, babydoll. How are you? Just checking after you before the next meeting starts, would prefer to be cuddled up with you.

Bucky: Are you okay? Do you need anything?

Bucky: I asked the coach to make it short so I can come over but he has a lot more shit for us to do, I'm sorry.

Bucky: Fuck, are you alright?

Bucky: Please, answer me. I come over!

You read the messages but never opened the chat. Tears streamed down your cheeks while you stared at your background and the incoming messages. 10 missed calls: Bucky. You just couldn’t bring yourself to answer him, to tell him what was going on and you knew you couldn't find an excuse to tell Bucky.

Around half an hour later Bucky knocked at your door, calling out your name. He called out your name. Bucky always used your pet name, the one he gave you but right now he called you by your name. His voice was broken, Bucky sounded worried but you didn’t want to move, your body felt way too heavy.

After a moment you heard the familiar sound of the key in your door. You gave Bucky your keys a while ago so he could come home whenever he wanted. He stormed into your apartment, shrugging off his shoes and jacket before he literally ran to you into the living room. His heart broke at the sight of you laying there, crying and wrapped into his hoodie and a blanket.

“Babydoll!” He said, crouching down next to you. Bucky eyes roamed over your body, trying to find something that could have hurt you but when he didn’t notice anything he narrowed his eyes. He brought one of his big hands to your cheeks, wiping away the tears and a few strands out of your face. “Look at me please, what's going on?”

You hadn’t even noticed that you closed your eyes until he asked you to look at him. You inhaled deeply, your body shaking as you slowly opened your eyes. His blue eyes pierced into yours immediately, he looked worried. You had never seen him like that, almost broken. More tears fell down your cheeks as you looked at him, noticing the love and care that's mirroring in the eyes you fell in love with.

You shook your head slightly, you didn’t want him to hear your broken voice. Bucky got up, wrapping his arms around you to lift you and sit down with you on his lap. Your head fell down against his shoulder and you inhaled his scent, feeling the warmth of him against you. Bucky wrapped his arms tightly around you, pulling you as close as possible.

“You came…” you mumbled into his shoulder.

“You didn't answer,” he replied, leaning his head against yours. You felt a bit of wetness against the side of your forehead, noticing that Bucky was finally relaxing since he had you safe in his arms. You never thought he would cry because he was worried about you, but he did — maybe even relieved that you're fine.

“But the meetings. He could throw you out of the team,” you said, leaning back slightly. You looked into Bucky's face, seeing the soft smile on his face but also his red eyes. Slight trails of tears slid down his cheeks and you captured his face to wipe them away. Bucky tilted his head slightly, leaning more into your soft touch.

“It doesn't matter. Nothing matters when it comes to you, babydoll.” You inhaled deeply, leaning your forehead against his. “But I told him that my girl needs me and that I will win every fucking game this season when you're at the side in my jersey. You will watch the games, right?”

You chuckled softly, nodding. Bucky just came because he was worried, he didn't mind that he could be thrown out of the team — he came because he was worried. And you planned to go to his games anyway, but now it made your heart beat even faster. His girl. His jersey.

“Are you going to tell me what happened? You won't just ignore my messages and calls,” Bucky asked, his voice soft. His breath was warm against your lips and you closed your eyes for a moment.

“John wrote me…” you mumbled, feeling Bucky tensing. Without him asking you knew what he wanted to ask ‘What did he say? Did he hurt you?’ “He said… he said that he wants me back and that no other guy wants me anyway. Unless it's about sex, so you know…”

Bucky nodded, leaning back on the couch. He brought some distance between the two of you to look into your eyes. “Do you want to go back to him? Whatever your answer is, I…” Bucky trailed off, closing his eyes to take a shaky breath before he looked at you again. Something in his eyes switched and you squirmed slightly. “Whatever your answer is, I want you to know that you're really loved by me. And I want you for more than just sex. If you want to go back to John I will accept that, but I just— I want you to know that I love you, forever already and it will never change.”

Bucky's confession caused your jaw to drop open. You thought about a lot that he could say but hearing him confess his feelings for you wasn't one of them. It was the most obvious but you felt so insecure, so scared that it wasn't what you thought.

“I— You love me but you would let me go back to John?” You asked, you had so many thoughts but that was the first that came past your lips. Bucky nodded, a sad smile flashing over his face.

“I don't say I would like it. But I don’t want to be the barrier that stops you from being happy. When you love someone, you're willing to break yourself to see them happy,” Bucky said, another tear rolling down his face. He was scared to say those words, he was scared you would go back to John but he knew he had to accept whatever you thought was best for you. “I'm willing to give everything for you because I love you.”

You smiled softly, the urge to punch him grew about his words. You were never more happy than the weeks of summer break with Bucky. So how could he even think about breaking himself for you? “You're an idiot.”

“At least I'm your idiot,” he smiled softly, shurgging. You stared into his eyes, nodding while he brought your hand to his chest, pressing it down just above his heart. You could feel the steady rhythm of his heart against your hand and you sighed softly.

“I can’t give ya the whole world… not the one ya think at least. But I can give ya my world — our world. I can make everything shine for ya like I took every star and gave it to ya,” he mumbled, reminding you of what he said before summer break. “But I can tell ya, I'm so in love with ya. My heart, it's beating for you — only for ya. You're my world, everything for me.

You leaned closer to him, until there is barely an inch between the two of you. You smiled softly, his words and gesture making your heart beat faster and a warmth spreading inside of you. “When you're willing to break yourself for me because you think I would ever be happier with someone who isn’t you, then I have bad news. There is no one who makes me happier than you. And I'm willing to fix everything that broke when the thought that someone could be better than you crossed your mind.”

“Can I kiss you now, or do you want to tell me you love me in another way than you just did?” He asked, chuckling softly. You didn’t say those three words but you didn’t  have to. You told him that you loved him with so many more words but in the most perfect way he could have ever imagined.

You leaned even closer, allowing him to finally press his soft, plump lips against yours. You could taste both of your tears while he deepened the kiss softly. Bucky pulled you even closer, your hands wrapped around his neck and you played with his bun, making him growl playfully into the kiss.

After a moment you pulled away, panting softly. Both of you had heated cheeks and you leaned your forehead against Bucky's shoulder to hide your growing smirk. “I know that ya smiling,” Bucky said, his accent back and you melted into his embrace, giggling softly. Neither of you had to say anything about the kiss — it was indescribably perfect. “How long have you been in love with me already?” you asked, turning your head, still resting it against his shoulder. Bucky drew small circles on your back, a low chuckle escaped his lips.

“Forever…” he said. “I'm not sure, but it's like forever. And then before summer break, my heart broke when I saw you there so sad. I could have told you I love you, fucked you and could have helped you to get over John but I wanted to show you what love means before i confess my feelings. I could have told you at the beginning of summer break but I wanted you to know how it feels to be loved and cared for, how to treat the girl you love right. I wanted you to be just as much in love with me as I am with you.”

“Then congratulations, you made me fall in love harder than I thought I could ever fall in love. And I don't love John anymore, long ago I did but I don't, I just…” you trailed off, letting your fingers wander over Bucky's neck, admiring the goosebumps. “His words, they just hurt.”

Bucky grinned, having already a perfect idea for the next day. “Babydoll, i don't want you to feel that i just use you to make you jealous, because I really fucking love you, but…”

“I love you too, but what?” You giggled, wrapping your arms tighter around Bucky's neck. You kissed your way along his jaw, pulling him in another kiss before you listened to his plan.

— —

The next day — the first day of school you were walking next to Bucky from his car toward the building. He held your hand tightly and you felt a lot of people staring at you, maybe it was because of the man next to you, but maybe it could have also been because of…

“Y/N!” John shouted behind you and when you turned around his face was pale. He thought you were wearing the hoodie with Bucky's number and name on your back to make him jealous but when he saw the thick man next to you, holding your hand, his eyes narrowed. “Why are you wearing his name, why are you holding his hand?”

You didn't plan to have that conversation in front of everyone but you didn't mind it either. Bucky gave you a strength you never thought you had. With a soft smile and a look at Bucky you inhaled deeply before looking at John, smile fading away.

“I wear his name on my back because it belongs there. I hold his hand because he’s my boyfriend. And instead of being ashamed and hiding our relationship like you did, he likes to let everyone know that I belong to him. Bucky doesn't mind, that everyone sees us together.”

“I actually do love to let everyone know that this pretty girl is mine. She is mine and she will be forever. And ya, Walker, can fuck off. Ya didn't know how to treat her right but don't worry, I love her enough to make ya shit up to her,” Bucky growled before he grasped your chin.

It wasn’t part of the plan, you knew what he was going to do but you didn't care about the plan to just wear Bucky's hoodie to show John that you were with Bucky now. Bucky turned your head toward him, pressing his lips to yours and you sighed softly, wrapping your arms around his waist and pulling him even closer.

The people around you clapped and screamed about this news. Who watched Bucky knew that he had the biggest crush on you. Even Bucky's whole football team jumped and shouted like they just won a game. You heard John muttering ‘but he is my rival, and so are you now’ but you couldn't have cared less.

Bucky smirked against your lips. “Mine, all mine, babydoll. You belong to me, just like I belong to you, I know.” He chuckled and pulled you into another kiss, letting you know that everything he said was true. He loved you with his whole heart, his soul.

You could feel his heart against your chest, feeling it beating the same rhythm yours was beating. His words from the day before where he confessed his love echoed through your mind. And suddenly everything made sense, everything lit up — no fear, no doubt. Bucky loved you — he really loved you. This was different, it was more than you ever had with John, more than you ever felt for the other one. Buckys and your heart beated in the same rhythm, they were connected — you were connected. He had used his whole summer break to prove that he loved you, to let you see how much worth you had, how much you meant to him. And finally, he was able to let his girl know, to show you his real feelings. This man — your man, your Bucky — he belonged to you, just like you belonged to him. You would take care of one another, love one another like nobody else ever did. He showed you the whole summer break that you were his one and now the two of you had the rest of your lives to be just happy with one another. Your journey, your life together had just started — in the most perfect way ever.

Taglist -> @kandis-mom @sergeantbarnessdoll @identity2212 @km-ffluv @lunaalovesyouu @armystay89 @suz7days @etherealdisneyvillainness @pono-pura-vida @somnorvos @meowmeowyoongles @randomawesomeperson102 @rogersbarber @sebastianstanisahotmf @loki-laufeyson68 @winterschildren8 @bxtchboy69 @jeremyrennermakesmesmile @im-alestan @felicitylemon @cjand10 @bookishtheaterlover7 @lives-in-midgard @casa-boiardi @futurequeen2018-blog @flstrawberry @nervouseden @jiyascepter @princesscore-angel @mrs-katelyn-barnes @sasha-writing @blackhawkfanatic @fanfictionreaderfan @multiversefanfics @angelbabyyy99 @looking1016 @aphrodite-xoxo @fanfictionreaderfan @iris-xoxo-juhu @holylulusworld @bucks-babe @whatever-lmaoo

[covenofagatha]

If you're still taking requests I'd love to suggest Agatha x fem reader smut with mutual maturation and Agatha guiding inexperienced reader through dry humping after finding out

It took me awhile to figure out what I wanted to do for this story, but a lightbulb clicked today and it was all I could think about so I really hope everyone likes it!

Forgive me, Father

After feeling something that you shouldn't have, you go to confession and Father Agatha helps you repent

Word count: 1700+

Warnings: confessional booth sex, father kink (?), religious imagery, masturbation, thigh riding, slight dubcon, reader is completely innocent and inexperienced and thinks any kind of sex is a sin, corrupt priest agatha, so sacrilegious lol

You slide into the confessional booth, stomach twisting and palms sweating. 

You were practically a regular there, always looking to assuage your guilt about the bad things you did: accidentally saying the Lord’s name in vain, getting too angry when your brother turned off the television and snapping at him, harboring a grudge against a stranger who cut you off while driving. 

You strived more than anything to be a good girl, and when you did something bad, it ate you alive. 

Except this time, it wasn’t just a small sin. 

No, it was much worse than anything you had confessed about earlier. 

The door to the conjoining part of the booth opens and you hear someone sit down. 

“What is the matter, my child?” The priest says, and you’re surprised to hear a woman’s voice. You didn’t know women could become priests, nor that your parish had one. 

You do the sign of the cross and say, “Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned. It has been a week since my last confession.”

“What do you have to confess?” 

You take a deep breath, wiping your hands on your legs to try and dry them off. “Last night, I was at a friend’s house reading Scripture and her older sister was watching a movie in the other room. When I went to the bathroom, I saw a glimpse of it.” 

You stop talking, afraid of the next part. The priest makes a sound to urge you on. 

“I don’t know what movie it was, but there were two women kissing,” you tell her, shuddering. “Which I know is a sin, but then I felt something inside me.” 

“What did you feel, child?” She asks. You can hear her breathing closer to the partition like she’s leaning towards you. 

Tears prick your eyes. “I felt, um, like this heat in my stomach? And almost like I was empty? When I went to the bathroom, there was a wetness in my underwear.” 

The priest thinks for a second and then tuts. “Did it feel good?”

“Yes,” you gasp out, shame bubbling up. “But it was wrong, and I know that. I’m sorry, Father! What is my penance?” 

“There is something that can be done when you feel like that, you know,” she says slyly, her voice getting low and thick with something, and your heart stutters. 

Surely she can’t be talking about–

“Have you ever touched yourself?” She asks. 

“No, of course not!” You exclaim indignantly. “Masturbation is a sin. You can only be touched down there by your husband.” It’s the same words you’ve heard your entire life. 

“I bet you didn’t know that those rules don’t apply to priests,” she says and your brows furrow in confusion. “Since we are not allowed to marry.” 

You swallow. “Really?” Curiosity is getting the better of you and you’re starting to feel warm. You can almost hear her nodding her head. 

“Really. And as a priest, I’m giving you permission to try. It will make you feel good and relieve the tension you feel.” 

Your heart skips a beat and you can feel flickers of heat in your stomach. But you shake your head in frustration. “I don’t know how to,” you admit. 

“Why don’t you come over here and I’ll help you?” She says, sounding like a cat who just got the cream. Feeling better, you step out of your side and into hers. 

It’s a tight fit, and through the dimly lit space, you get your first look at the priest you’ve been talking to and your mouth parts. 

Her dark, curly hair frames her face and falls down past her breasts. Her striking blue eyes, although you can see barely any of the cerulean color with how large her pupils are, seem to pierce through your soul. They rake up and down your body, taking in your jean shorts and Youth Group t-shirt from years ago.

You can feel your pulse somewhere between your legs and it’s like the feeling from last night, only amplified. 

“Please, Father,” you beg, although not sure what you’re asking for. She smirks and motions for you to take a step closer. 

“Why don’t you get on your knees, angel? Like you do when you pray.”

You obey and wince at the cold tile. It’s a little uncomfortable, but you lay your palms face up on your thighs and look at her. 

She bites her lip at the sight, something flashing in her eyes. “Very good. Now, unbutton your jeans and slide a hand inside.” 

Something stops you, a feeling nagging inside your brain. You’re still not convinced that this isn’t a sin, and she sees your hesitation. 

“If it makes you feel better, I’ll show you what to do,” she says, and she begins pulling up her robes. Your fingers twitch against your thighs and the feeling inside you grows. Once they’re around her waist, she moves her underwear to the side to reveal her private parts to you. 

“Is it supposed to be that wet?” You question, absolutely enraptured by what she looks like. You’ve never even really examined your own that closely, but she has two flaps of skin that look like they’re practically matted together with wetness and she’s glistening. Jesus Christ himself could come down to earth right now and you wouldn’t even care. 

She nods and runs a hand through, parting her folds and letting you see more of her. 

“Yes, if you’re this wet, that means your pussy is ready,” she says and you blush at the vulgar word. “And this up here-” She cuts off to circle her finger on something at the top of her pussy. “-is your clit. This is what you want to focus on.” 

She rubs herself more and her head slightly drops back with a moan. It’s like your body is being consumed with hellfire. 

This priest is both the apple and the snake in the Garden of Eden, and you are the poor mortal fool about to give into temptation and sin. 

“That feeling inside you?” She whispers, and your eyes lock on hers, waiting for the answer to salvation. “This is how you get rid of it.” 

She slides a finger into herself and groans louder and you can’t resist unbuttoning your shorts and cupping yourself through your underwear. 

“Father…” You rasp, hesitating because you realize you don’t know her name. 

“Agatha,” she says, moving in and out. “Play with your clit, angel. Rub it.” 

You struggle to find it, but when you do, your entire body jerks with pleasure. She chuckles above you and you’re reminded of the stained glass windows in the parish of disciples kneeling at the altar before Jesus.

Is that what the two of you look like right now?

Like you’re revering Father Agatha?

That’s what it feels like. 

You can feel how wet you’ve gotten through your underwear and you squirm at the stickiness. You keep stroking that special spot, watching the priest do the same, but it feels like you just need more. The blaze inside you is only growing more and you feel like you need relief or you’ll die.

“Father Agatha,” you whine and you don’t miss how her hips buck. “I can’t do it by myself, I need help. It’s only getting worse.” 

She pouts. “Of course it is, angel. That means it’s working. Although, if you really want to feel good, why don’t you let me guide you?” 

You stiffen involuntarily, even though your body is screaming to let her. “If you touch me there, I’ll be impure.” 

She thinks hard for a minute, tapping her finger to her lip and then her face lights up. “I won’t touch you there, then.” 

You frown and she beckons you up. She parts her legs and pats one of them. You stare at her, completely confused as to what she wants you to do.

“Take off your shorts and sit on my thigh with your underwear. We won’t be touching and it won’t be a sin.”

You can’t find any holes in that logic, so you obey and you let out a gasp when you drop your pussy right onto her leg. You moan. Having a strong muscle to move against makes the pleasure so much more intense and you rut against it frantically. 

“There you go, angel. Make yourself feel good,” she encourages, putting her hands on your hips to guide you down harder. Each drag of your clit against her skin, even through your wet fabric, pulls a sound out of your mouth. 

“Father, please, so good, more,” you pant. 

You shall not make false idols. You have definitely broken that commandment as you have fully given yourself over to worshipping this woman. 

“Oh, my God, please.”

You shall not take the Lord’s name in vain. There’s another one. 

“Father Agatha, something’s happening to me!” Heat and tension are rising and twisting and building and making you so tense that you think you’re about to snap. 

She smirks and digs her fingernails into your hips to move you faster. “Let go, angel. That’s the best part.” 

You remember hearing the story of Noah’s ark in nursery school. How God warned him of a flood and to gather two of every animal before he overflowed the earth. 

You feel that flood now in your body, except it’s pleasure rushing through your veins, like a dam has broken. 

Your head slumps onto her shoulder. “What was that?” 

“That was an orgasm,” she says, sounding very proud of herself. “Reproduction isn’t the only reason people have sex.” 

Your face turns red. “But – no, we didn’t – that wasn’t sex, I couldn’t have had one of those, I’m not married!” 

Your protests only make her grin more and she brushes a piece of hair from your sweaty face. “Oh, you’re so innocent, angel. I’m a priest, remember? The rules are different for us. And if you’re still feeling guilty, do eight Hail Mary’s.” 

You nod, mind reeling from that. You will certainly have to pray later. But there’s something else you can’t stop thinking about. “But what if that feeling comes back?”

She smirks and there’s a glint in your eye that both makes you want more and terrifies you. “Then you come back for more confessions until we can get rid of all those dirty thoughts.” 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

If we like, I have an idea for a part 2 that lines up with another request

[realcube]

dilf december

day three ⭑ toru oikawa ⭑ sugar daddy x reader

tw : nsfw minors dni, age gap, implied sugar baby dynamic, vaginal fingering, slight impact play.

a downside to being a professional volleyball player is the lack of longevity. most players are put out of work by thirty; some may make it to thirty-five, if they're lucky. but generally after they've reached that age, they have past their prime and their athletic performance begins to decline.

for oikawa, his thriving volleyball career reached a glorious finish at thirty-three. he still does interviews and associates with the argentinian volleyball league, but his time as a player had ended.

but a massive perk to being a professional volleyball player that largely nullifies the previous issue, is that the money he made and the fame he gained during his short-lived time as a player was enough to last him for the rest of his life.

even at fourty-three, he is filthy rich: living in his big house by the seaside, appearing on national television and making guest appearances on shows and news outlets constantly. paparazzi swarms him whenever he steps foot out the door, journalists continue publishing articles about his legacy and magazines still beg him to be on their front cover. the headlines would read: "top ten men who only get hotter with age!"

however, he rarely indulges in satisfying the media anymore; he prefers to stay private these days. not because he doesn't love seeing himself in the media, because he undoubtable does, but rather because he doesn't want them catching wind of his new relationship. the age difference might stir up controversy.

not that either of you thought there was anything wrong with it. when he first saw you at the private golf club, working as a cart girl, he thought you were just the most beautiful woman he had ever laid his eyes on — baring in mind, he's had oppertunies to do photoshoot with famous models, but all of them were nothing in comparison to you — and your age had nothing to do with this.

meanwhile, you've always had a soft spot for an older gentlman with a pretty face and fat wallet. so it was only natural that he two of you immediately clicked, and in less than three months, you had moved in with him.

which is why you are currently laying in the centre of your queen-sized bed, chest pressed flush against your eiderdown bedding while your nose is buried in your phone, doing whatever you please. but out of the corner of your eye, you see your bedroom door creep open and a voice call out, "guess who?"

you purse your lips and furrow your brows in thought, "hm, i don't know."

he scoffs and steps out into the room to reveal himself, sauntering over to the bed and playfully flicking your forehead, "silly girl. don't even recognise your own boyfriend, huh?" he takes a seat at the side of the bed, and since you are laying on your front, he is able to place a hand on the back of your thigh and caress your tender skin.

"i suppose not." you murmur, still typing away on your phone, prompting him to lightly smack your ass.

"put that thing down. pay attention, sweetie. i've not seen you all day." he says with a smile, gazing lovingly at you.

while you simply roll your eyes, placing your phone anyway but still huffing in disinterest. "why should i? you barely pay attention to me, like, at all. you've been busy all week. we don't get to spend any time to together."

"i know, baby, and i'm so sorry. i've just got so many things to do."

"like what? i thought you were supposed to be retired.."

"i am, but work never really ends." he chuckles awkwardly, "i've got interviews to do and they still ask me to visit the team to give speeches to boost morale. it's a waste of my time, really."

you don't seem to impressed by this reply. your small 'hmph' prompts him to continue.

"but that's not an excuse, i'd rather be spending time with you, my gorgeous girl." he says solemnly, leaning in to place long kiss against the exposed skin of your thigh. "we will spend the weekend together. just us, with no distractions. we can do whatever you like. how does that sound?"

he waits patiently for your response, but you lay there with your hand propping up your chin, simply averting your gaze. he takes your silence as a response again and continues, "we can go shopping n' by you whatever you like. some new shoes, or clothes. maybe a new birkin, or whatever handbag it is that the new generation of women obsess over—"

"coach.." you reply plainly.

"right." he nods, "or we can get you a new phone. you mentioned needing an upgrade. plus, i don't like the front camera on your current one; it makes my eyes look asymmetrical." he cringes at the misrepresentation of his lethal facecard.

"i guess it would be fun to spend the weekend with you." you mumble, hesitantly gazing over your shoulder at him, "i really missed you, toru."

"you don't need to miss me, baby, i'm right here." he reassures you in a quiet tone. gently gripping the flesh of your plush thigh as he leans in to plant a sweet kiss against your lips. it lasts a while before he returns to his seat on the edge of the bed. this is when you begin to feel his hand creep from your mid-thigh, up and under your skirt until it was rested on your ass.

"in fact, let's start spending some quality time together right now." he kneeds the skin for a moment before his fingers curve inwards, and dip down between your thighs, brushing against your clothed pussy. he toys with your hole a little, and lovingly massages your clit and labia, basking in how wet he is making you and the cute moans and mewls that slip from your throat.

he pulls the fabric aside once he has you sopping enough for his liking, but continues to only tease your hole with his fingers. pressing against it and feigning penetration to get you needy and desperate for him.

"has this cute pussy been needing me all day?" he muses, playing with your clit under the rough pads of his fingers.

"uhuh.." you whine, arching into his touch.

"oh, poor baby." he says tauntingly, then proceeds to smack your ass, causing you to gasp. however, he simultaneously pushes to finger into your aching hole, which makes a lewd moan immediately follow your deep gasp.

he only chuckles, amused by your reaction to his ploy. it doesn't take him long before he starts thrusting his thick fingers in and out of your pussy, gradually building up a moderate yet rough pace. two fingers is enough to strain your tight walls, and he adores how each vulgar thrust is enough to elicit another loud moan from you.

since you have been deprived of sexual attention for so long, you had already got yourself so worked up at the idea of oikawa, that you end up finishing quicker than usual. creaming around his fingers and arching back into himself, letting him fuck your wet hole through your orgasm.

once he's done, you collapse onto your front, breathless, and he lays down next to you. turning his head so your faces are inches away from each other, "and there's more to come, princess."

[leonsgfpost]

note: hello, it's me again! This is the second part of my first post (you can find it on my profile). I'm sorry if this is too long or I made a mistake, I just lost my mind for Leon, you know? 🎀

tags: Leon RE2 x f!reader, smut, unprotected sex (please don't do it), creampie, oral (famele receiving), masturbation and more!

Weeks went by and he finally did it, it was the most embarrassing moment of his life.

He had approached with two coffees in his hands and a packet of those sweets he saw you eat at every break. Because yes, he was very attentive. You like the pastries bought at the bakery down the street and the coffee you usually drink bitter to counteract the sweetness of the pastry. After making an effort and putting the most awkward smile on his face, he got up the courage to ask you if you wanted to hang out. And lucky for him, you accepted. That day of the date, he arrived an hour early, and had jotted down some questions on a crumpled piece of paper now inside his jacket. And just as he expected, you arrived with the cutest outfit he had ever seen. He knew you were the best, always wearing nice clothes that brought out all your features in just the right way. He felt like a fool for only wearing one of his blue shirts and the best pants he had found in his closet. But it had been a wonderful afternoon, he took you to a nice restaurant, moved the chair for you and paid the bills despite your complaints. Then, when the sun was going down he walked you home and you kissed his cheek so sweetly that he stood for ten minutes outside your door even after you closed it.

That night he couldn't sleep, because he realized that he really liked you, that you could stop his heart completely and not just his dick.

The two of you started to frequent each other more, started flirting at work, complicit glances and sloppy kisses in the lonely corners of the station. He didn't want to be a hormonal jerk, but the feeling of your mouth and tongue sliding past his lips fucked his brain. You were so pretty, so perfect that he had to have you, soul and body. He was determined to win you over. And so he was the most detail-oriented guy you ever met, bringing you nice flowers, chocolates, leaving you a coffee every morning on your desk and leaving you cute notes against it.

In no time you fell for it, because let's be honest, no one could resist.

The relationship was formalized, and you swore you never saw such a cute smile on someone's face after giving he a big "Yes." to his proposal. Leon felt like the luckiest guy on the planet, he had a cute, funny girl whom he loved madly because it didn't take you long to get into his heart. You came into his arms as if it was where you belonged, because it was, you belonged in his arms. Just like now, you're buried comfortably in his embrace and the television had been forgotten, you were both too busy devouring each other's mouths.

Leon's hands held each side of your cheeks, drawing your face towards him so he could keep pushing his lips against yours eagerly. It was a simple wet kiss, and he was already dripping inside his pants. And with every sweet sound that came from your lips, his mind was spinning. He wanted to put his hands on you, he wanted to bend your body and pin you so much against the couch that it was getting absolutely silly.

But he didn't want to push you, what if you felt obligated? What if you thought he was just a pervert? What if-

All those doubts were gone as quickly as they came as he felt you climb onto his lap, your arms around his neck and his hands instinctively squeezed your soft hips, pushing you down eagerly. He let out a deep moan as your fingers tugged his hair a little, pulling it away from your lips and he instinctively chased after you again. You had to hold back a laugh at how fucked up he looked from a simple wet kiss, how you could feel him so hard beneath you.

"Hey, Leon. Do you want to... Do you want to continue?" you ask sweetly, moving those pretty eyes of yours to his blue eyes that seemed to want to devour you completely. Before you could think anything else, he was already nodding eagerly.

"Yes, yes... Please." He murmured, his voice was hoarse and came out along with his heavy breaths. He cupped your face, pulling you into him. His lips moving hard against yours, the sloppy sound of the kiss echoing in his small living room. His hands moved down from your face to the sides of your shirt, pulling it up and he pulled away from your lips to lower his gaze to your chest. His breath caught in his throat, moving his hands to the clasps of your bra.

"Can I?" he asked looking at you, as if he wouldn't need to choke on your tits. After all, he was a gentleman.

And when you barely mumbled a small "yes" he removed the garment as if it had somehow insulted him. Your tits fell freely in front of his eyes and he swore that here he belonged. His mouth quickly catching one of your breasts, sucking like a hungry man. As he felt your fingers tugging at his hair and your moans echoing in the room, he had to restrain himself from rolling his eyes. He could cum from just sucking on your pretty tits.

For lack of air, he pulled away from your nipple watching with fascination the red mark left on your tender flesh. His eyes lifted to yours to push his mouth against yours again, one hand on your cheek and the other holding your hip.

"Lift your hips." He said between kisses, smiling as he felt you obediently follow his request. His hand moved to cup your pussy above your pants, feeling the wetness and heat radiating from your center. And as much as he wanted to bury his face between your legs, he wasn't sure how long he could hold back and not cum intact in his pants. He began to massage your center gently before he began to stroke you harder, his fingers searching for your clit above your clothes. When he decided you were both eager enough, he began to unzip your shorts. His heart (cock) was about to burst with joy as he saw more of your panties exposed to his hungry eyes. It didn't take him too long to slide your shorts down your luxurious thighs, gasping at the sight of the dark stain on your underwear.

"Babe-" You moaned almost shyly as you watched his eyes not move from between your legs. His eyes lifted to look at you again, letting out a low moan as he impacted your mouth. His hands gripped your hips, moving you as if you weighed nothing to place you on the couch.

"You're so cute like this..." He murmured, looking at you as if you were the brightest star to come down from the sky just for him.

"You're the prettiest girl I've ever seen." His voice sounded genuine, mesmerized by the sight of you lying beneath him as he had so often fantasized. So ready, so willing for him. His lips moving down to your neck, beginning to kiss the full expanse of your skin. His hands beginning to impatiently pull down his own pants and boxers, letting out a sigh as the cool air made contact with his raging erection. One of his hands reached down to slip inside your underwear, feeling like he was going to faint when his fingers made contact with your wet folds.

Were you that wet for him? Did he turn you on as much as you turned him on? This was paradise, paradise was between your legs and he was ready to drown himself in it. It didn't take him long to plunge a finger inside you, feeling your walls sucking him hard. He was letting out more moan than you, simply by touching you like this.

"Leon, I want you... I want you, please-" You asked more impatiently, grabbing his hand for him to finally give you his nice cock that you could see it quivering between his legs with excitement.

"I know, I know. I got you, pretty girl." He whispered against your skin, increasing the rhythm of his fingers and with his palm he pressed your clit in a way that made your legs tremble around his hand. When he decided he could take no more, he pulled down your underwear completely, fixing his eyes on your drooling center in a lewd way. For him.

His hands spread your thighs, trying to look away from your pussy, to look at your face, but damn, he was mesmerized. He really wanted this to have been something more romantic, maybe some wine and candles but all those thoughts vanished as he pressed his tip against you. His chest rose and fell, massaging your thighs with his gaze fixed on how the head of his dick was lost from his sight as it entered your warmth. His gaze lifted for the first time to see the expression that crossed your face as he began to fuck you with just his tip.

"D-Do you want more? Does it feel good, huh?" he asked awkwardly, because he's never been good at this 'dirty talk stuff', but he was trying for you. His face was red, slowly moving his hips and his thumb moving up to caress your clit.

"Leon, Come on-" You moaned impatiently in the sweetest way, lifting your hips to try to take him deeper. Your walls were sucking him hard, and he was weak so he started thrusting harder and harder, giving you time to get used to it. He took a shuddering breath, lifting one of your thighs so he could go deep and his head rolled back with ecstasy.

He was not going to last.

He wanted to go slow, to make love to you but quickly found himself fucking you like a repressed man. And his expression was the cutest, his brows furrowed with pleasure and his pink lips slightly parted. A thin layer of sweat was beginning to cover both of your bodies.

When he opened his eyes to look at you, he cursed under his breath. You looked just as he had imagined you all this time, the hottest expression on your face, your body jerking against the couch and your tits bouncing happily with each thrust. And he closed his eyes again because he felt his abdomen tightening from the familiar sensation of his orgasm building. His thumb started stroking you faster, trying desperately to get an orgasm out of you.

The sound of your skins colliding and your moans echoed off the walls, a sound so wet it was almost sinful. His hips began to move uncoordinated as fast as he felt your walls clenching around him tightly, and he knew it.

"Don't stop, Don't stop." You repeated over and over, your nails scraping the smooth skin of his back with ecstasy at the coil forming in your belly that was ready to explode. His cock was touching all the right spots inside you, his veins rubbing and molding your walls with need.

"I can't, I can't... I'm sorry, baby-" He apologized with a choked sob escaping his lips, as his cock contracted and began to shoot its load inside you. His mind went blank and his arms making an extra effort not to let himself fall on you. His face burned knowing he cum before you.

But his brain was too fucked up as he continued to slowly move his hips against yours. As his mind began to clear, he looked up at you with his eyes cloudy and his bangs sticking to his forehead from sweat.

"Let me, let me make it up to you..." He asked in that pathetic voice of his, getting out of you with his trembling body and moving backwards on the couch. He knelt between your legs, staring at the mess he had made in you. His sticky semen escaping from inside you, staining the couch cushions.

"Leon, Wait-" You murmured, tangling your fingers in his sweaty hair before he plunged his face between the piece of paradise he held for his own blessing. His pretty blue, misty eyes meeting yours, and he let you know he wouldn't let go until you were broken.

Because he was already crazy, there was no turning back from his addiction. Because you were a drug to him and this was just beginning.

Thank u so much for supporting my previous post, I hope this one wasn't too long or boring for you 💕🫶🏻

Remember that you can read the first part on my profile, let me know if you liked this one too.

bye, bye (💌)

[euno11a]

i just saw your post about reader who can’t make themselves cum and ugh i love it, especially because i feel like no one ever talks about or includes it. anyways i would love to hear your thoughts on reader who has a hard time cumming, especially during sex no matter how good it feels

I fell that it’s honestly really important to talk about it to let people know that they aren’t alone. And I’m so glad you liked it :)

It is scientifically proven that men can cum easier during sex than women. It’s mostly because women have complex bodies, what works for one person might not work for the other. So when figuring out your own body, it’s important to keep in mind that your body is unique compared to others.

this wasn’t the first time that you’d been sprawled out in bed with Simon pleasing you. He kissed up and down your body, caressed every inch of you, even stopped for a little to rest his head on your chest and make sure you were nice and relaxed. You two had been on this journey together for a little while now, trying to figure out what you like and how he can make his pretty cum. He had tried many things, using his tongue, light pressure on your clit, firmer pressure, no pressure and just stimulating your g-spot, stimulating your g-spot and your clit, adding nipple play to see if that made you more sensitive; but even if it felt good, your body wouldn’t let yourself go.

at first, Simon thought it was because he wasn’t good enough. That he just lost his touch and that he wasn’t doing enough for you. But when you comforted him and explained how you’d been like this since you could remember, it made him feel better and worse. Alright, he wasn’t a complete failure and could still make you cum…but why hasn’t he? Every time you two had sex or just did foreplay, he would make sure to take all the time in the world to get you really nice and wet for him. He would use his fingers to curl inside you and touch that spot to make you mewl and arch your back off the mattress. But you still couldn’t cum. You were in the middle of him thrusting into you, feeling how his cock would twitch gently inside you, his fingers working your clit. Left side, right side, hood of it, right on it, pinching it gently, but all it would do is make you feel more pleasure that lead to nothing but a dead end.

you buried your head into his neck and let out small whimpers as he kept his movements steady. After another 15 minutes, that’s when the whimpers turned into silent sobs. Your body jerked a little as you cried, tears gliding down your cheeks and onto his bare shoulder. His head leaned down against yours and held you tightly, gently sliding your of you to hold you in his lap. You cried softly, neither of you talking, but both knowing what was wrong. “I don’t like being broken…” you said through little cries, voice soft and hoarse. But you were cut off by Simon shaking his head and cupping your face to press small kisses against the apples of your cheeks.

“Yer not broken, love. Y’just different. Just because we don’t know how t’make you cum just yet doesn’t mean my sweet girl is broken.” His words were soft against your ear as he caressed your head, another time failed.

as time passed, you began losing hope. It’s fair, thinking you just can’t do it because something inside is wrong or maybe you just weren’t cut out to be able to feel that pleasure everyone talks about. You started to notice how Simon even began refusing any type of pleasure. Handjob? No thanks, love. Maybe a blowjob cause you had a stressful day? Nope, but I do need cuddles, sweet girl. He was refusing your love. While he sat in his home office finishing some paperwork, you walked in quietly, staring at him as he stared down at the paper, pushing up his glasses. The glasses that you finally got him to buy because he kept complaining about the television being too hard to see and the news on his phone is too small. Thank god you did though, he looked bloody hot in them. Scooting your way into his office, you stood in front of his desk, catching his attention. “Somethin’ ya need, love?”

your cheeks burned as he looked at you, but you couldn’t get distracted! “Why are you refusing my love?”

it was clear the question caught him off guard by the way he paused, mouth slightly agape as he looked at you. “I’m not refusin’ your love. What makes you say that?”

“Wha-…? Yes you are! Every time I offer you a blowjob or a handjob, you say no. Am I doing something wrong? Does it not feel good? Do you…do you not like me anymore?”

he could hear your little heart shatter in that last question, standing up from his chair and walking over to you. He grabs you hands and sits on his desk, pulling you towards him. “I fucking love you. Neve think for a minute that I stopped loving you. I’m refusing to let you do any of tha’ because I don’t think it’s fair to ye. Not fair that my sweet girl has to endure not bein’ able to cum, so m’not gonna either.” He says while looking straight into your eyes, his thick and calloused fingers pushing some hair behind your ear. “Won’t cum until you can.”

while you thought he was refusing your live, he was actually doing it because he didn’t want you to feel left out? This man looked like a scary man, but he was the most thoughtful and caring teddy bear ever. “What if I never do, though?”

“Then neither will I.” He spoke seriously. “Understand?”

the small nod you give him is enough acknowledgement for him, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips. “Now, I was doin’ some research, and I found that most women can’t reach an orgasm without some help. So, what do ya think ‘bout lookin’ for some toys with me, eh?”

[just-a-girl-who-wrytes]

My Girl 💕

“Dammit girl, I didn’t wear you out that good did I?”

You flipped Deacon the middle finger as you limped to the bathroom. Peeing was rather uncomfortable, but much less than the physical act of standing, sitting, and walking. Once you were done, you returned the bed next to your Sergeant. You snuggled into his side. He caught your chin with his index finger, pulling your face to his.

“You are amazing,” he breathed before kissing you. He continued to work his lips in sync with yours. When he eased his tongue forward, you allowed him access to your mouth. His finger left your chin and was quickly replaced by his hand pressed firmly, but gently against your throat. You smiled and moaned quietly.

You still had butterflies every time Deacon kissed you like this.

A few moments later, he stopped kissing you and pulled your head to his chest. He kissed your head as he wrapped his arms around you.

“I thought you were about to give me a repeat of last night,” you said, tracing your finger in patterns on his chest.

He chuckled, “After the way I just saw you walk? Baby, you wouldn’t enjoy any part of me repeating last night. I’m not doing anything to you that you couldn’t one hundred percent love.”

You groaned in agreement.

“Touche.”

The two of you laid there, surrounded by silence and each other’s presence.

“You know?” You began again, “I have never, ever been left with a limp after a night of amazing sex.”

“I’m glad I could do that for you.”

You could hear the chuckle in his voice. “What do you say we spend today enjoying our new television, tinted bedroom windows, and blacked out bedroom? Oh, and recuperating.”

You looked up at Deacon and he winked at you.

“That sounds so perfect.”

The two of you had just blacked out your bedroom so that it was suitable for sleeping in during the day given your schedules and constantly disrupted circadian rhythm. You also had purchased a new, larger tv and you had been looking forward to getting to have a lazy day to enjoy it all.

Deacon pushed himself up so that he was leaning against the headboard and helped you position yourself between his legs, leaning back on his chest and torso. He kissed the top of your head as he channel surfed, looking for the perfect movie to watch.

You slept on and off through the first dumb comedy movie he picked. You never understood what he liked about them - you hated them. He was definitely going to repay you with a horror movie. He felt the same way about horror moves that you did about stupid comedy. And much as you loved him, you were slightly irritated when he began to speak, interrupting your movie.

“So, I was thinking….”

You huffed.

“Excuse me?”

You could hear the dominance in his tone and even as sore as you were, you couldn’t deny that it turned you on.

“I’m sorry, Deac. You know I love my horror movies.” You propped yourself up so you were looking at him.

He lifted the remote and paused the tv. “Better?” You could hear the softness return to his tone.

You giggled, “Thank you.”

“Back to what I was saying…”

“Okay?”

“What do you think about us?”

“About us?” You were confused.

“Yeah. About our future.”

Deacon pulled you into his chest and you relaxed in his warm embrace.

“I’m confused by your question, but, I see myself with you forever.”

“I want to marry you.” Deacon said.

He caught you off guard by being so forward.

You giggled, “I’m glad we have the same end goals and that you are a man who knows what you want and how to express that forwardly.”

He kissed your forehead, “I want to ring shop with you so that when the time for me to propose comes, I will pick out something that you love and want to wear forever.”

“Baby, I would love anything you wanted to buy for me.” Your hand was cradling his neck and you were lazily rubbing your thumb against his jaw.

“I know that, but still.”

“I know what you mean, though. Baby, I would be more than happy to ring shop with you.”

You felt his arms squeeze you tightly. You kissed his neck, keeping your face snuggled close to his, enjoying the scent of his skin and cologne.

“I love you so much.” He spoke softly into your hair.

You pulled your face away from his neck and kissed his cheek. He turned his face enough so that he was able to kiss you. His lips, in the middle of his goatee, were soft and gentle against yours. You didn’t need any words to feel the love your boyfriend had for you.

The two of you laid in bed, watching movies, looking at rings, and sharing passionate kisses. When supper time came around, you decided to order in. Once your food arrived, you and Deacon were in the kitchen preparing your plates. Your spotify was playing on a romance list and Tennessee Whiskey came on. Deacon sat the plate down he was putting food on and grabbed your hand.

“May I?” He kissed your knuckles and raised his eyebrows at you.

You smiled and undoubtedly blushed, “You may.”

He pulled you into his arms. He was wearing your favorite pair of his sweatpants, but otherwise was unclothed. You were in your favorite fair of panties and one of Deacon’s t-shirts. His favorite one to see you in. Your hair was in a messy bun and Deacon’s, while short, definitely was not smoothly styled like he usually did. You loved his post-sex, lazy day look. It was so unkempt, quite the opposite of him. You wrapped one arm around Deacon’s torso, and held his hand with the other. He led you in swaying back and forth in the middle of your shared kitchen. He hummed along to the song as you to danced. Your head rested on his chest, listening to the low hum in his chest.

You closed your eyes, picturing yourself dancing with Deacon to this song at your wedding reception and smiled to yourself.

You had not noticed that Deacon wasn’t humming anymore when he interrupted your thoughts, “What’s going on in that pretty little head of yours?”

“Hmm,” you hummed, “You…. Me…. Our Wedding…”

“And this song?”

You giggled.

You didn’t have to look at Deacon to know he was grinning.

“Oh yes.”

“You are going to be the most stunning bride.” He said.

“And you,” you took his left hand and kissed his ring finger, “are going to be the best husband.”

“Ooh,” he laughed, “You had to one-up me, huh?”

You pulled your head away from his chest and looked up at him.

“Well, Sergeant, I guess you’ll have to wait until we get married to see.”

He grabbed your chin and kissed you softly,

“You’re killin’ me, girl.”

[thevoicefromanotherworld]

"I WANT EVERYTHING WITH YOU"

This probably is the cutest story I've ever written. It's a Christmas story with Logan, so I really hope you like it! (I'm ovulating so hard and I'm in a rollercoaster of emotions, so this is the result of all that)

I don't like writting about pregnacy, but like I said I'm ovulating so that's basically an excuse to write this ngl

Logan didn't like Christmas. That time of year was supposed to be spent with family. Logan didn't have a family, he'd always been alone for as long as he could remember.

Until he found you.

The first time he saw you he felt something stir in his chest, something he'd only felt once in his entire life. He never thought he'd feel it again, but when your brown eyes met his through the lens of your square glasses, and you smiled shyly in his direction, he knew he was completely and utterly lost.

You could say that it was love at first sight. Logan had never believed in such things. I mean, he'd seen it on several television series (which Rogue forced him to watch despite his complaints) but I never thought something like that would happen to him.

The professor introduced you to her as he did later with the rest of the team. He said that you would stay with them from now on at the mansion, to which Logan responded by nodding solemnly.

He thought you had a unique beauty, a special aura surrounded you, which attracted him like a magnet. Since then, the two of you had exchanged several short conversations between classes.

Logan was your History teacher, so you saw him several times a week.

His classes were entertaining and dynamic, he asked the students questions and tried hard to explain things they didn't understand, even though he was known for having little patience, if necessary he would stop the class to explain what he hadn't understood to the student who had gotten lost, or lost focus while explaining the lesson.

He turned to the board, writing several facts on the timeline he had drawn, before turning around again. He looked around the class before reaching you, his green eyes shining as he did so, which made you blush and look down at your notebook.

A soft smile spread across his lips as he heard your accelerated heartbeat. And so it was that, after several conversations, private lessons and sidelong glances, you started dating. It was no surprise to the rest of the team, who had already seen you two cuddling in the hallways more than once.

So there he was, watching as you helped the children put up the decorations on the huge Christmas tree that Charles had put in the middle of the room with Jean's help.

He smiled when he saw you sit one of them on your shoulders and lean him forward to place the star on the top of the tree.

“That's it!” he celebrated, high-fiving all the children. “Isn't it pretty?”

The children nodded firmly, unable to take their eyes off the colored lights, which flickered on the branches of the tree.

-Okay, now go to bed - he ordered gently - it's very late

-It's not true - a girl complained, crossing her arms sulkily - you only say that because you want to get rid of us

-How could you say that, you little rascal? - you questioned, ruffling the girl's hair, making a smile form on Logan's lips - go to bed, tomorrow will be another day - you said, gesturing towards the door -

-Okay - the smallest of them called Marcus snorted - good night, Sira - he stammered in his childish voice, the boy looked at Logan - see you tomorrow, Mr. Howlett

-Goodbye, little one - he answered, smiling kindly -

When all the children had left, you stood still in the center of the room, watching the tree that you had just decorated. Logan stood up from his spot and placed his hands on your hips, his strong presence behind you was comforting, making you feel protected and loved.

“You look beautiful,” he whispered, watching as the reflection of the tree lights kissed your face. “No wonder Marcus didn't want to leave,” he smiled. “That kid knows what's good.”

“Logan!” you squealed softly, feeling yourself blush.

He hugged you, holding you close, watching the red in your cheeks.

“Relax, princess,” he said, “I know you'd never leave me for him.”

“Very funny, Log,” you replied, feeling him rest his chin against your shoulder.

“You're good with kids,” he said. “Maybe it's time to make some for us.” You turned around to face him, his green eyes shining from the lights, as did his black hair. He was very handsome.

-I… thought you didn't want to… - you said, looking at him intently-

-I want everything with you, baby - he whispered, placing a lock of hair behind your ear - that is, if you want too, of course

You looked at him for a few moments before putting your arms around his neck, pulling him towards you.

-I couldn't think of a better person to start a family with - you smiled, and he kissed you with a warmth that made your bones seem like they were made of butter -

And so, with your lips together in front of the big Christmas tree, you sealed a promise, that of creating a strong, united family where love would be the main ingredient.

@loganhowlettshousewife @themareverine @wolverinesprincess @ramblingautisticman

[rwshfordgirl]

OJITOS LINDOS

all of ferran's photos were taken from pinterest.

request: hey darling x I hope you're having an amazing day. i was wondering if you could write smth with Ferran Torres. we see mean comments on ig and how Ferrans ex was prettier and how he should be with someone more like known and a model or something. just angst and then Ferran notices our mood and he comforts us paring: ferran torres x reader a/n: can you believe i thought of a plot like that just a few hours before receiving this request? thank you for the request, i hope you like it.

requests are open | check here my masterlist

i made such a terrible decision now. i came back from work tired and the first thing i did when i got into the elevator of the building where i live was to grab my cell phone and open twitter, and to my surprise ferran's name was in the trending topics. he and i are already used to the not so affectionate messages directed at him, but this time the comments are about his girlfriend, me.

i got out of the elevator and walked towards the apartment in slow steps, my eyes never leaving my cell phone. completely horrified i would say, apparently people decided that it wouldn't be enough to send me a thousand mean messages on direct and decided it was time to fill another social network with hate.

ferran was lying on the couch watching television when i entered the apartment. he has no idea that i just read that people think the idea of us two living together after six months of relationship is terrible, even though we don't even live together. 

"mi amor, how was today?" he pulled me closer as soon as he sat on the couch and saw me approaching "normal." i took a deep breath as i threw my cell phone on the other side of the furniture. ferran's eyes passed over me and headed towards the cell phone. i sat on the floor, between his legs and placed my head on his knee. his hands promptly caressed my hair.

"normal? are you sure about that?" he smiled and i held myself back from starting to cry right there. i love ferran so much that it hurts, but it has been impossible to live with the comments from his fans. it has been impossible to open my Instagram, which even with private comments, is bombarded with messages from people insulting me, comparing me to girls i have never seen. "the problem is not at work."

ferran's gaze passed over me again and then to my cell phone, thrown on the other side of the couch. he threw his head back and snorted. "please don't be mad at me for saying that!" i held his hand. "but sometimes i wish you weren't someone famous just so i wouldn't have to read anything i read." the player took a deep breath and brought my hand close to his lips, where he placed a kiss. " i would never be mad at you, not for that or for anything." he commented "cariño, you are the love of my life and it hurts so much to see you like this." a tear ran down my cheek.

ferran sat on the floor, facing me. his fingers touched my face, trying to dry my tears. "i don't know what to do." i admitted, almost whispering. "you can be sure that i will make a statement on Instagram." i despaired inside "no, don't do that! they will hate me even more." i begged, seeing ferran's eyes grow as sad as mine. "but this can't go on like this." he stated, his hands still on my cheeks. "i'll deactivate my main instagram and all other social networks, that's the solution." torres bit his lower lip nervously. "it's not fair." his forehead touched mine for five seconds."but will kept them away from me."

ferran once again kissed my hands back "i'm sorry, cariño." i wiped my tears away " i just want you to know that you were the best thing that ever happened to me and there is no one like you, no one." i smiled as i heard ferran's words "i love you." he pressed his lips to mine "i love you too."

[cheynovak]

A Demon's Kiss Part 2

Demon Dean x F/Reader Y/N   

Warnings: Anger, aggression, nothing too bad. 

Side note: English isn’t my first language. 

-> @mayafatimakhan asked me to make a part two, so here it is, I did change the chase scene a little. Since it have been a while since I saw this scene. But have fun reading. <-  

*Does not follow The SPN storyline * 

-- 

Dean turned into a knight of hell, at one of his bar trips he sees an old flame from way back, Y/N the daughter of a hunter, he and Sam met years ago. Seeing her enjoying her time with a new man made him feel well... something. 

After their encounter Y/N decides to call Sam for help.  

--  

Y/N nervously tapped her fingers on the worn wooden bar counter, her mind swirling with a mix of emotions. She had never expected to run into Dean Winchester again after all these years.  

She looked at the display of her phone, she tried to call him , again. “This is Dean's other, other cell so, you must know what to do.” “Hi, it’s me... again. Call me.” With a sign hung up the phone.  

She knew the life he led, hunting monsters and facing dangers most people couldn't even imagine. And as much as she tried to let go, she couldn't shake off the concern that gnawed at her heart. Dean would never get possessed by a demon.  

Realising there was one other person she could call.  

"Hello?"  

"Sam," Y/N's voice wavered slightly, betraying her unease. 

"Y/N? Is everything okay?" Sam's tone was filled with concern. 

Y/N hesitated for a moment, unsure of how to express her worries without revealing too much. "I... I ran into Dean," she began, her words coming out in a rush. "He seemed...” she had no idea how much Sam already knew so she chose her words carefully. “I'm worried about him." 

There was a brief pause on the other end of the line before Sam responded, his voice calm yet tinged with urgency. "Where are you?" Y/N quickly glanced around the dimly lit bar, her eyes searching for any signs of Dean. "I'm at Murphy's " she replied, her voice barely above a whisper. 

"I'll be there soon," Sam said firmly before ending the call. As Y/N waited for Sam the memories of their time together washed over her.  

-- 

She was just sixteen when she met Sam and Dean for the first time, Dean at his age of nineteen seemed like the epitome of coolness to her adolescent self. Her father, also a hunter, often crossed paths with John.  

On that particular night, her father and John had gone on a hunt, leaving Y/N and Dean alone at their makeshift home base. Despite her attempts to act nonchalant, Y/N couldn't deny the flutter of excitement in her chest at the thought of spending time alone with Dean. 

As they sat in the dimly lit living room, the soft glow of the flickering television casting shadows across the walls, Y/N found herself stealing glances at Dean when he wasn't looking. She was acutely aware of his presence beside her, the subtle scent of his cologne mingling with the musty smell of the old couch. 

Dean, ever the charmer, had flashed her a lopsided grin, his green eyes twinkling with mischief as he placed his arm behind on the couch. "What's on your mind, kiddo?" he had asked, his voice warm and teasing. 

Y/N had felt her cheeks flush with embarrassment, quickly averting her gaze to the floor. "N-nothing," she had stammered, her heart racing in her chest. “Dean, leave the girl alone.” Sam said annoyed with his brother’s flirtation. ‘Do you have to hit on any and every female on the planet?”  

“Just a friendly conversation, Sammy.” He snapped back. “Mind your own business.”  

-- 

Her memories abrupt disturbed by the door that swung open, and Sam entered, his tall frame cutting through the dimness of the room. He quickly made his way over to Y/N, his expression grave. 

"Where is he?" Sam asked, his eyes searching hers for answers. 

Y/N nodded toward the corner where Dean had been sitting earlier, but he was nowhere to be seen. "He was here," she said, her voice tinged with worry. "He left not too long ago." 

Without another word, Sam reached into his jacket pocket, retrieving a set of keys. "Come on," he said, gesturing for Y/N to follow him. "We need to find him." 

Together, they hurried out of the bar and into the cool night air, the sound of their footsteps echoing against the deserted streets. As they climbed into the car, Y/N couldn't help but feel a sense of déjà vu, as if she were being pulled back into a world she had tried so hard to leave behind. 

As the car sped through the night, Sam glanced over at Y/N, his expression filled with concern. "How have you been, Y/N?" he asked softly, his voice breaking the silence that had settled between them. 

Y/N sighed, her gaze drifting out the window as memories of the past flooded her mind. "I've been okay," she replied, her tone tinged with a hint of sadness. "Just trying to live a normal life, you know?" 

Sam nodded, his brow furrowing with guilt. "I'm sorry I dragged you back into this," he said, his voice heavy with regret. "You made a promise to your dad not to hunt anymore, and I..." 

Y/N reached out, placing a hand on Sam's arm. "Hey, it's not your fault," she said firmly, meeting his gaze with a reassuring smile. "Helping Dean doesn't count. He's family." 

Sam's expression softened at her words, a flicker of gratitude shining in his eyes. "Thank you," he said quietly, his voice filled with emotion. "For being here for us, even after everything that's happened." 

As Y/N gazed out of the window, her thoughts drifted back to the last time she had seen Dean. Their relationship had always been a tumultuous rollercoaster ride, filled with highs and lows that mirrored the unpredictable nature of their lives. 

Being involved with Dean meant accepting the reality of his hunter lifestyle – the long absences, the constant danger. Their on-and-off dynamic had taken its toll on both of them, leaving Y/N torn between her love for Dean and the desire for a stable, normal life.  

But every time she tried to walk away, something or better yet someone, always pulled her back in. Y/N's father had hoped, dreamed she would choose a future away from hunting.  

He had seen Sam, with his steady and promising future in law school, to him he was the ideal match for his daughter her ticket out of the dangerous life they led. He couldn’t say he wasn’t relieved her daughter broke up with the older Winchester brother. But he was angry at him for breaking his daughter's heart. 

-- 

The Impala's engine hummed softly as Dean drove on the driveway in front of Y/N’s house. Y/N sat in tense silence, her arms folded tightly across her chest. Not getting out just yet. 

After what felt like an eternity, Y/N finally broke the silence, her voice tinged with anger. "Dean, we need to talk." Dean glanced over at her, his brow furrowing with concern. "What's on your mind, sweetheart?" he asked, his tone cautious. 

She took a deep breath, steeling herself for what she was about to say. "I can't do this anymore, Dean," she said, her voice trembling with emotion. "I can't keep pretending like everything's okay when it's not." 

Dean's grip tightened on the steering wheel, his jaw clenched in frustration. "What are you talking about, Y/N?" he demanded, his tone defensive. 

Y/N turned to face him, her eyes blazing with anger. "I'm talking about us, Dean," she spat, her words dripping with venom. "I'm talking about the fact that you kissed another girl while you were on a hunt." 

Dean's eyes widened in disbelief, his expression shifting from confusion to anger. "Oh, come on, Y/N," he scoffed, his tone dismissive. "You know how it is when we're on the road. It's not like we're exclusive or anything." 

Y/N's fists clenched at her sides, her nails digging into her palms. "That's not the point, Dean," she snapped, her voice rising with frustration. "The point is... y-you made me feel like I was nothing to you. I’ve known you for 5 years and you throw it away like that!” 

Dean shook his head, his temper flaring. "I can't believe you're making such a big deal out of this," he growled, his voice laced with irritation. "It was just a kiss. It didn't mean anything." 

Y/N's eyes flashed with hurt and anger, her chest heaving with emotion. "You don't get it, Dean," she said, her voice trembling with emotion. "You never have." She got out of the car running back inside.  

Her dad heard her getting inside, turning to greet her. “Hi sweetheart how was your... night?” But he soon noticed how Dean ran after her. Seeing how they continued the fight in the kitchen. “Y/N!” He raised his voice following her close.  

"Y/N, wait," Dean called after her, his voice tinged with frustration. "We need to talk about this." 

Y/N spun around to face him, her eyes blazing with fury. "Talk about what, Dean?" she spat, her tone sharp and biting. "The fact that you think it's okay to kiss other girls while I'm sitting at home waiting for you?" 

Dean's jaw clenched, his hands balling into fists at his sides. "You think you're the only one who's been waiting around?" he retorted, his voice rising with anger. "You think I don't know what you've been up to when I'm not around?" 

Y/N took a deep breath, her gaze locked with his. "I cared enough to wait for you," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "Even when you were miles away, I never once thought about being with anyone else." 

Dean's eyes widened in realization, a pang of guilt tugging at his heart. "Y/N, I..." he began, his voice trailing off as he struggled to find words.  

"You know what, Dean?" she spat, her voice dripping with venom. "Maybe I should have chosen Sam back then instead of you." Dean's eyes widened in shock, his expression crumbling with hurt. "Y/N..." he began.  

But she cut him off with a dismissive wave of her hand. "Save it, Dean," she said, her voice cold and unforgiving. "I'm done with this. I'm done with you. I want you out of this house, out of my life. Now!" 

-- 

"You can stay as long as you want.”  

Sam's voice broke through the haze of memories, pulling Y/N back to the present. Blinking away the little tear that had gathered in the corner of her eye? She glanced around, realizing they had arrived at the bunker Sam talked about earlier.  

"Thanks, Sam," she said quietly, her voice tinged with gratitude as she climbed out of the car. Sam nodded, his expression filled with understanding. "We'll find him, Y/N," he said, his voice firm with determination.  

--  

 

As days stretched into weeks, Sam's tireless efforts finally paid off. With a lead on Dean's whereabouts, they set out to find him.  

Dean's eyes widened in surprise as he took in the sight of Y/N and Sam standing before him. "Well, well, well," he drawled, a hint of sarcasm lacing his words. "Look who decided to show up." 

Y/N's heart sank at the bitterness in Dean's voice, the sting of his words cutting deeper than she cared to admit. "Dean, we're here to help you," she said, her voice steady despite the ache in her chest. 

But Dean's expression remained hardened, his gaze fixed on her with a mixture of resentment and disappointment. "Oh, I see," he said, his tone dripping with sarcasm. "You finally kept your word, huh? Went for Sammy instead of me." 

Y/N's breath caught in her throat at his words, the pain of his accusation like a dagger to her heart. Opening old wounds. "Dean, that's not fair," Sam interjected, his voice firm with resolve. "Y/N's here because she cares about you. We both do." 

But Dean's expression remained impassive, his walls firmly in place. "Save it, Sam," he said dismissively. "I don't need your pity, and I sure as hell don't need hers. You need to let me go, both of you." 

Sam looked at her, she knew she needed to distract him. Physically she knew neither could handle him. So, she did what she knew would keep them going for a while.  

"You're such a damn hypocrite, Dean!" Y/N said, her voice filled with frustration. "You're the one who pushed me away, who made me feel like I wasn't good enough for you!" 

Dean's jaw clenched, his fists tightening at his sides. "Oh, and you were just perfect, weren't you?" he shot back, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Always running back to daddy, and now again, showing up with his favourite little law schoolboy. Just like daddy dearest wanted.”  

Sam looked at her, immediately understanding what she was doing. "At least Sam was there for me when I needed him!" she retorted, her voice shaking with rage. "Unlike you, Dean, who only cares about himself!"  

Dean stepped forward, toe to toe, nose to nose. "You have no right to judge me princess." 

 Sam saw an opportunity. With a swift motion, Sam lunged forward, his hands closing around Dean's wrists before he could react. In one fluid motion, he snapped a pair of demon handcuffs around Dean's wrists, the cold metal biting into his skin. 

Dean struggled against the cuffs, his muscles straining against the invisible force that held him captive. "What the hell, Sam?" he growled, his voice laced with anger. 

Sam met his brother's gaze with a steely determination. "I'm sorry, Dean," he said, his voice firm yet filled with regret. 

-- 

Back at the bunker 

In the dead of night, the bunker was shrouded in darkness, the only sound the soft hum of the ventilation system. Y/N tossed and turned restlessly in her bed, her mind plagued by the events of the day. But as sleep finally began to overtake her, a sudden noise shattered the silence, jolting her awake. 

Rushing out of her room, checking Sam’s but saw his bed empty. Y/N searched frantically for Sam, her heart pounding with fear. And then she found him, lying unconscious on the floor, a deep gash on his forehead. 

Panic surged through her veins as she knelt beside him, shaking him gently in an attempt to rouse him. "Sam, wake up," she pleaded, her voice trembling with urgency. "Please, Sam, wake up!" Y/N realized that she couldn’t leave him like this. 

As she struggled to lift Sam's limp body, a sudden noise behind her caused her to freeze in place. Whirling around, her eyes widened in horror as she came face to face with Dean, his expression twisted with anger. 

"Y/N!" Dean growled, his voice low and menacing. "You think you can just lock me up and get away with it, princess?" 

Y/N's heart pounded in her chest as she backed away slowly, her mind racing with fear. "Dean, please," she pleaded, her voice barely above a whisper. "We just want to help you." 

Y/N backed into her room, her heart pounding with fear, she scanned the area frantically for something – anything – that could help her. And then her eyes landed on it – a small bottle of holy water sitting on the closet shelf next to the door. 

With trembling hands, Y/N grabbed the bottle, her fingers closing around it tightly as she steeled herself for what she had to do. As Dean's enraged shouts grew closer, she took a deep breath, summoning every ounce of courage she had left. 

As soon as Dean burst into the room, his eyes wild with fury, Y/N wasted no time. With a swift motion, she splashed the holy water directly into his face, the liquid sizzling on contact with his skin. 

Dean let out a howl of pain, his hands flying to his face as he stumbled backwards, momentarily stunned by the unexpected attack. Seizing the opportunity, Y/N darted past him, racing towards another room,  

In the meantime, Sam got back up and got to the control room locking the place down.  

With shaking hands, Y/N slammed the door shut behind her, her heart hammering in her chest as she fumbled for the lock. The bunker's emergency lights bathed the corridor in an ominous red glow, casting long shadows that seemed to dance with Dean's furious cries. 

With each passing moment, the sound of his voice grew louder, more menacing, sending a shiver down Y/N's spine. It was like something out of a Hitchcock movie. "You're pathetic, Y/N!" Dean's voice echoed off the walls, his words echoing with a chilling finality.  

Dean's voice cut through the silence of the bunker like a knife, each word dripping with a venomous hatred that left Y/N feeling as though she had been punched in the gut. The insults he hurled at her were like arrows aimed straight at her heart, each one hitting its mark with a painful precision. 

"Nothing but a pathetic excuse for a girlfriend," Dean's voice echoed through the corridors, his words filled with a bitter contempt. "You were never good enough for me – always so damn needy, so damn jealous." 

"And in bed? Forget about it," Dean continued, his voice mocking. "You were always so damn awkward, you had no idea what you were doing, did you?" Tears welled up in Y/N's eyes as she listened to Dean's cruel taunts.  

Hearing how he was really close to the room she was hiding in. How he busted every door on his way to her. "Always trying to control everything, always trying to hold onto something that's long gone." 

"You're just like your father, Y/N," Dean sneered, his voice dripping with disdain.

"It's a good thing your daddy's dead, he'd be ashamed of what you've become. Just a sad, broken shell of a woman, unable to find anyone to start a family with." 

A soft gasp left her lips, Dean turned towards the sound.

"He's in hell, Y/N, you know that right? I saw him just last week. Making sure he gets torture for all eternity because of his own mistakes." 

She knew this wasn’t Dean talking, but as she sat alone in the darkness, listening to Dean's relentless tirade, she couldn't help but wonder if he was right. Had she truly failed her father's memory? 

Y/N's heart pounded in her chest as she heard Dean's heavy footsteps approach the door of the room where she was hiding. Panic surged through her veins as she realized that she was trapped, with nowhere to run and nowhere to hide. 

With a sickening thud, Dean's boot connected with the door, sending it crashing inward with a deafening crash. The door broke down in pieces, revealing Dean's enraged silhouette framed in the doorway, his eyes burning with a fierce intensity. 

As he stepped through the door, a hand moved through his hear. "Let's finish this, you and me sweetheart."

Y/N's breath caught in her throat as she scrambled to her feet, her eyes wide with fear as she backed away from him. "Dean, please," she pleaded, her voice trembling with desperation. "Don't do this. You're better than this." 

"It's too late for that, Y/N," he growled, his voice low and dangerous. "You made your choice when you locked me up like some kind of animal." 

Y/N gasped for air as Dean's strong grip tightened around her throat, pinning her against the cold, unforgiving wall. With each passing second, her vision began to blur, her lungs burning for oxygen as she struggled to break free from his grasp. 

Desperation flooded her veins as she reached up, her hands instinctively wrapping around Dean's wrist in a desperate attempt to pry his fingers away. “Oh kiddo, it’s a shame killing you. But on the bright side, you’ll see your daddy again, very soon.” 

In the tense silence that followed Dean's cruel words, Sam stepped forward, his grip tightening on the demon blade as he held it steady against his brother's throat. His jaw clenched with determination.  

 Dean's lips curled into a mocking smirk, his eyes gleaming with a dangerous edge. "Wow, look at you. Go ahead, Sammy," he taunted, his voice cold and unbothered. "Do it. Let's see if you've got the guts." 

But Sam's gaze remained fixed on Dean, "You don't get to call the shots anymore, Dean," Sam said, his voice firm with conviction. "Not this time." He backed Dean further back to the hall.  

As Sam hesitated, the tension in the room thickened, each second stretching out into an eternity. With a heavy exhale, he slowly withdrew the demon blade, his knuckles white with the force of his grip. 

"You don't have it in you, do you, Sammy?" Dean's voice was a low growl, his eyes dark with a mixture of disappointment and triumph. "You talk big, but when it comes down to it, you can't pull the trigger." 

As tension hung thick in the air, a sudden rush of displaced air announced Castiel's arrival. His presence seemed to fill the room with a calming energy, a beacon of hope amidst the storm of emotions that threatened to engulf them all. 

Castiel's blue eyes shined bright, filled with a mixture of concern and determination. Without a word, he stepped forward, his arms outstretched to support his friend. Forcing to calm him down, putting him unconscious back into the chair.  

A few days into the treatment.  

Sam turned to Y/N, his eyes reflecting a mix of concern and exhaustion. He noticed her gaze lingering on Dean's unconscious form, her expression a complex blend of emotions. 

"Y/N, are you okay?" Sam's voice was gentle, his concern evident in the furrow of his brow. Her gaze tore away from Dean, her thoughts swirling with a tumult of conflicting feelings. She forced a small smile, but it didn't quite reach her eyes. 

"Yeah, I'm fine," she replied, her voice unsteady. "Just... seeing him like this, it's hard, you know?" Sam nodded understandingly, his own gaze flickering back to his brother. "Yeah, I know what you mean," he said quietly. "But we're doing the right thing.” 

"I know," she murmured.” Are you sure he is cured?” She asked Castiel. “He is, I can feel it.” “Good.” she said walking away to her room.  

Y/N's hands paused mid-motion as she heard a soft knock on her bedroom door. Casting a glance over her shoulder, she saw Castiel standing in the doorway, his expression gentle yet concerned. 

"Y/N, may I come in?" Castiel's voice was soft, she nodded, a small smile tugging at her lips. "Of course, Cas." His gaze fell upon the packed bags strewn across the bed. His brow furrowed in concern as he took in the sight, his eyes lingering on Y/N's neck.  

"Are you alright, Y/N?" Castiel asked, his voice filled with genuine worry. "I'm okay." she said, her voice tinged with a hint of discomfort. "Just a few bumps and bruises nothing I haven’t had before." 

But Castiel wasn't convinced. With a gentle touch, he reached out to inspect her injuries, his grace flowing through his fingertips like a soothing balm. Y/N felt a warmth spread through her body as Castiel's healing touch washed away the pain, leaving her feeling rejuvenated and whole once more. 

"Thank you, Cas," Y/N murmured, looking in his piercing blue eyes. “Thank you for being such a good friend for them.” Castiel offered her a small smile in return, the door to her room creaked open, and Y/N's heart skipped a beat as she saw Dean standing there, his expression hesitant.  

"Y/N, can we talk?" Dean's voice was soft, his tone tinged with a vulnerability that she had rarely seen from him. Y/N nodded, "Of course.” 

As Dean took a seat beside her on the bed, Y/N felt a rush of conflicting emotions wash over her – anger, hurt, but also a flicker of hope. "I'm sorry, Y/N," Dean began, his voice thick with emotion. "I never meant the things I said to you.” His hand took hers.  

"I know," Y/N replied softly, her voice tinged with sadness as she pulled her hand away from Dean's. She rose from the bed, her movements slow and deliberate as she turned away from him, her heart heavy with the weight of their shared pain. 

Dean watched in silence as Y/N began to pack her bag once more, the sound of her movements echoing through the room like a painful reminder of their past. As Y/N zipped up her bag and slung it over her shoulder, she spared one last glance at Dean, her eyes filled with a mixture of longing and regret.  

“Are you leaving?” He asked in a soft voice, while getting on his feet. Taking a deep breath, Y/N met Dean's gaze head-on, her heart pounding in her chest. "You're cured, Dean," she said, her voice steady despite the turmoil swirling inside her. "That's why I came here to make sure you were okay." 

“Don’t you think we need to talk about what happened?” Taking a deep breath, Y/N turned to face Dean, her eyes searching his for answers. "What do you mean, Dean?" she asked, her voice tinged with uncertainty. 

Dean hesitated, his gaze flickering away from hers for a fleeting moment before returning. "I mean... about us," he replied, his voice quiet yet determined. "About what happened between us all those years ago." 

"I... I don't know, Dean," Y/N admitted, her voice trembling slightly. "It's been a long time since then, and a lot has happened since we were together." 

Dean nodded, his expression somber as he met her gaze. "I know," he said softly. "And I'm sorry for everything that happened between us. I never meant to hurt you, Y/N, I just... I didn't know how to handle everything back then." 

"I know, Dean, we were young." she replied, her voice barely above a whisper. "I think about that fight all the time." Dean said quietly, his voice tinged with regret. "I shouldn't have left, I should have worked things out with you, instead of running away like a coward." 

“Really?” Her eyes teared up, Dean nodded, his expression somber as he met her gaze. "I wish I could go back and change things, Y/N. Ask you, your dad for forgiveness."  

“Please stay a little longer, let's start over, we can get to know each other again. For old times.” She saw the honesty in his eyes. She dropped her bag on the floor. 

"I forgave you a long time ago, Dean," Y/N said softly, her voice filled with a quiet resolve. "But I can't stay here. I never wanted this life.” Their eyes lock "I understand, All I want is for you to be happy." Dean replied quietly, his voice tinged with sadness.  

Her eyes shimmering with unshed tears as she stepped forward, closing the distance between them. She reached up to cup Dean's cheek in her hand, her touch gentle yet firm 

“I'll tell you this, why don't you call me when you are ready to leave this life.” 

She leaned in and pressed her lips to his in a tender kiss – a goodbye kiss, filled with all the love, longing and pain they had never been able to express. Just as suddenly as it had begun, it was over.  

“Goodbye, Dean," she said softly, before leaving him in the empty room. 

As he watched her go, Dean’s fingers traced his lips, like he could keep the feeling of their kiss just a little longer.  

Wondering if they would ever find their way back to each other.  

---

If you liked this, please check out my masterlist for other stories.

Tag list: -> If you want to be added just let me know what you like to read.

@yvonneeeee @suckitands33 @mostlymarvelgirl

[angelllbby222]

Conflicted Ch 30🎀:

Maddy sat at the edge of the bed, contemplating her thoughts.

After Izzy had cornered Maddy, Axl came to see how everything was going and invited Maddy to come talk with him about something serious after he left her hanging downstairs. She politely declined and left to go in the empty media room where the tv was playing an ongoing loop of everything Guns N’ Roses.

But her eyes were fixated on the tall bassist and fiery redhead. Her chest tightening as she watched them.

Izzy turned, his dark hair catching the rays of the stage light, and it was almost as if his eyes found hers through the screen.

Even from the television, Maddy felt the pull of him, the magnetic force that had drawn her in since she came out here for the first time.

His quiet confidence. And the way he always seemed to know what was going on with her, whenever she couldn’t.

But then there was Axl.

Loud, brash and impossible to ignore.

Maddy dropped her gaze, her thoughts spiraling back to the moments that had brought her here, stuck between two boys who couldn’t be more different………

Flashback: 2 months ago

The first time Izzy kissed her, they were sitting in the room of her brothers apartment. It was a hot summer night, the air thick with the scent of honeysuckle. They’d spent hours talking about everything and nothing, their legs dangling over each others.

“You ever think about the future?” Izzy had asked, his voice soft, almost hesitant.

“Sometimes,” Maddy had replied, brushing a strand of hair from her face. “But it feels so far away, you know?”

Izzy had nodded, his gaze fixed on the ceiling, littered with glowing stars. Then he turned to her, his eyes searching hers. “I think about it a lot. And you’re always in it.”

Before she could respond, he leaned in, his lips brushing hers. It was tentative, sweet, and it made her heart race in a way nothing else ever had.

Maddy blinked, the memory fading as the present came rushing back. She glanced toward Izzy again, her heart aching. Things had been so simple back then. But now, everything was complicated.

Ever since Duff had found out, it had been nothing short of a rollercoaster of emotions tearing through her heart every single night.

Axl’s laugh broke through her thoughts, drawing her attention. He was leaning against the frame of the now opened door, his arms crossed, his signature smirk firmly in place.

And then there was Axl.., painfully arrogant, a whirlwind of ego wrapped in leather and chaos, his voice cutting through the air as sharply as his unapologetic self-importance.

But even in his world of glittering façades and hollow adoration, he couldn’t ignore her—the one who was real in a sea of fake smiles and fame-chasers. She saw through the noise, and for the first time, he found himself craving something deeper than the spotlight…..

Flashback to Duff’s apartment……..

It had been a chaotic party at Duff’s, the kind of party where the music was too loud and the air smelled like cheap beer and perfume. Maddy had been standing in the kitchen, nursing a soda, when Axl had appeared beside her.

“Not your scene, huh?” he’d said, leaning casually against the counter.

“Not really,” she’d admitted, glancing around the crowded room.

Axl had grinned, his green eyes sparkling with mischief. “Come on, then. Let’s get out of here.”

Before she could protest, he’d grabbed her hand, leading her out the back door and into the night. They’d ended up at the old train tracks, sitting on the hood of his car and talking until the sky turned pink with dawn.

“You’re not like other girls,” Axl had said, his voice low. “You’re… real.”

Maddy had laughed, shaking her head. “What does that even mean?”

“It means you don’t pretend to be someone you’re not,” he’d replied, his gaze intense. “And I like that about you.”

Now, as she sat on the worn down sofa, Maddy felt the weight of those memories pressing down on her. She cared about both of them, but in such different ways.

Izzy represented safety, the kind of love that felt like home. He was the boy who knew her favorite book, who remembered the little things that no one else did. Even when he would hurt her the little things he would do for her would make up for it.

But Axl… Axl was fire. He made her feel alive in a way that was both exhilarating and terrifying.

Maddy sat on the couch, legs curled beneath her, staring blankly at the muted television. The room was dim, lit only by the faint glow of the screen and the warm light of a nearby lamp. She wasn’t watching anything in particular; her mind was too cluttered with thoughts to focus. The weight of the situation bore down on her, pressing against her chest like an invisible hand.

The creak of the door broke her trance. She didn’t have to look up to know who it was. She felt his presence before she even saw him. Axl stood there, leaning casually against the doorframe, his leather jacket still on, as if he hadn’t decided whether he was staying or leaving. His eyes, sharp and unwavering, bore into her, but she refused to meet them.

“I know you see me,” he said, his voice cutting through the silence. “But you’re choosing to ignore me.” He stepped further into the room, his boots heavy against the wooden floor. “The problem won’t go away just because you’re pretending it doesn’t exist, Maddy.”

Still, she didn’t respond. Her fingers tightened slightly around the edge of the couch cushion, but her gaze remained fixed on the television.

Axl sighed, running a hand through his disheveled hair. “You’re making this harder than it has to be,” he muttered, his tone softer now, almost pleading.

Before she could muster a response, another figure appeared in the doorway. Izzy. His presence was less imposing, quieter, but no less intense. His dark eyes flicked between Maddy and Axl, and a faint smirk tugged at the corner of his lips.

“You’re not helping, Axl,” Izzy said, stepping into the room. He crossed the space to Maddy’s side and crouched down in front of her, his tone gentle, almost tender. “Hey,” he murmured, reaching for her hand. “You don’t have to say anything. I know this is a lot, but I just want you to know how much I care about you. How much I love you.”

Maddy finally looked up, her eyes meeting Izzy’s. There was a softness there, a vulnerability that made her chest ache. He squeezed her hand lightly, as if grounding her in the moment.

Axl scoffed from across the room, his arms crossed over his chest. “That’s your pitch, Izzy? Sweet words and puppy-dog eyes? You think that’s enough?” He took a step closer, his voice growing sharper. “I’m more of a man than you’ll ever be. At least I own up to my mistakes. I don’t hide behind pretty words.”

Izzy didn’t flinch. He stayed focused on Maddy, his expression calm and resolute. “This isn’t about being a man, Axl. It’s about what she needs. And she doesn’t need someone who’s going to bulldoze their way through her life.”

Maddy inhaled deeply, finally finding her voice. “Stop,” she said, her tone firm but not unkind. She looked at Axl, her expression pained but resolute. “I can’t do this anymore. I care about you, Axl, but this… this isn’t right for me. I need to move on. We both do.”

Axl’s jaw tightened, his eyes flashing with a mix of frustration and hurt. He opened his mouth to argue but stopped himself. Instead, he nodded stiffly, his lips pressing into a thin line. Without another word, he turned and walked out, the door clicking shut behind him.

Maddy exhaled, her shoulders sagging with the release of tension. Izzy sat beside her, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. “You okay?” he asked softly.

“I don’t know.” she croaked thinking about the consequences of her actions.

“Hey, don’t worry about him okay?” Izzy groaned.

“I can’t just not worry about him Izzy!” she sternly replied.

“Why not?” he harshly asked.

“Because I care for him a lot.” was the last thing she said before getting up and leaving out the door.

authors note: thinking about ending this at 35!!

[thotsforvillainrights]

Hello! I saw that your request box was open, since it’s Christmas could you possibly write a NSFW scenario about Overhaul x numb reader. (The reader has no expression on her face and doesn’t really show emotion) for an Example: out of nowhere she walks into Overhaul’s office in just Christmas wrapping paper and says “come unwrap me” and overhaul is just in shock at her boldness but he is all so turned on by this.

(PLEASE SKIP IF YOUR UNCOMFORTABLE WITH THIS TOPIC sorry if this is confusing)

(I was supposed to actually go full fledged into the request and shell out some good smut but ended up somehow tiptoeing through it. I'm so sorry about that! Just got home from spending Christmas with my 2 sides of the family so I'm winding down by working off my feelings from the other day with the asks. Merry Christmas!)

~Christmas Present~

You were numb but he never minded it.

In fact, he was himself the same in a way. When you stop to think about it, Kai was always holding the same stoic expression on his face that you were. Many of the others began to wonder how it was possible you two had found your way to each other in the first place with the way you seemed to interact with each other. Yet and still, he knew you like the back of his hand...

Or so he thought.

You'd never really surprised him an any ways. He always mentioned how much he didn't like surprises to begin with. His disdain for surprise and your comfortableness with keeping things mundane seemed to go hand in hand. Neither of you ever complained about it anyway. In fact, if there ever WAS a problem to come about then the two of you had no issues expressing how you felt and immediately snuffing the problem out. But something in your brain clicked here recently. Maybe it was too much daytime television, or maybe you were being influenced by the recent gossip magazines. Either way, you were starting to wonder if maybe there was something more to this relationship that you could bring out? Don't get me wrong here, the two of you have both expressed your interests with each other both in and out. The longer you've been together, the more pressing some of the conversations had becomes. Turns out he wasn't as much as a mysophobe as either of you previously thought him to be. This was proven true by the way his hand began to wander into yours. Hugging, hand holding, kissing...and soon more began to come about. He figures 'if I'm to do this with anyone, then let it be my Y/N I suppose.' He's given into his urges and you never seemed to complain. However, the same position every time, the same amount and technique applied made you wonder once again if there was something more.

So for the first time in your life, you embraced the ability to surprise. You took some extra time, read some extra articles or blogs, spent more time looking at yourself in the mirror. No you may not have been the most attractive girl/boy/person in the world to few people, but to him you knew he couldn't resist. With all the time you spent adorning yourself in the Christmas themed set, you began to finally feel worry in the pit of your stomach. Perhaps you were venturing too far from your comfort zone? Maybe you in over your head. What if he didn't like it?

Lucky you, oh how lucky.

He'd entered his office and you took a deep breath. He paused and eyed you up and down, waiting for some sort of explanation. No matter how sexy the others made it seem, when the words came from your mouth it would appear they fell as flat as your expression. "Come unwrap me." You were aware of how embarrassing it might come across as, but he'd shown how much he didn't care by the way his eyes were drawn to you. It didn't take long for his hands to reach you, gripping and grasping desperately at any inch of skin he could get his cold digits on. His lips never left your neck for the first half of the night. He was determined to leave it littered in reminders of who exactly you belonged to. Usually he'd be done kissing by now. Usually he'd already entered you and would press into you fervently as he chased his own high. Tonight he spent extra time doing just as you asked, and slowly removing the last bit of covering from your body. His hands were steady, gliding up and down your sides and pinching along your hips before making their way to your nipples to show you some extra attention for once. He'd discovered two things that night:

The first was that it would appear to him he missed out on a lot of nice positions he should've been trying in the first place. now he's got his head screwed on tight and he'd eager to see how many different ways he can have his beloved call out to him in desperation. The second thing was that he was wrong all along...

He loved surprises.

[briamichellewrites]

74

Phoenix and Linsey were visiting with his mother and Joe. She brought up meeting Bria. Phoenix used the opportunity to tell them about her new diagnosis and what it meant for her. She had some of the symptoms of Dissociative Identity Disorder, though she wasn’t formally diagnosed. Kathy had some understanding of what that disorder was. It used to be called Multiple Personality Disorder. Yes, it was. How many personalities did she have? Just one.

Her name was Emma and she was a twelve-year-old girl. She was not easy to get along with because she had an attitude and they had to be patient with her whenever she came out. Kathy mentioned that twelve-year-old girls were known to be moody and have an attitude. They laughed. That was very true. He just wanted to tell her just in case she came out.

Was Bria aware of her? Oh, yeah. She talked about her and how difficult it was to share the same body with her.

“She gets frustrated with her sometimes. Emma is a personification of her diagnosis of Borderline Personality Disorder. An example would be Bria going on a date. She would complain about being left home alone. Mike is great at empathizing with her and getting her to talk about what she’s feeling. Her episodes only last about an hour. She doesn’t have amnesia and she is fully aware of what Emma says and does when she takes over.”

It was a heartbreaking disorder because she couldn’t help it. Was her diagnosis due to severe childhood trauma? No, it was caused by her traumatic brain injury. That was another reason why she didn’t qualify for a Dissociative Identity Disorder diagnosis. Joe asked what her official diagnosis was. It was something like Unspecified Dissociative Disorder.

He couldn’t remember what it was officially called. Linsey thought that sounded correct. When Emma came out, her voice changed to resemble a child’s. It caught them off guard the first time it happened but now, they were more used to it.

Bria was tired and was thinking about going into Bradley’s trailer to sleep. It was around two thirty in the morning. She sat back and watched him do the same scenes over and over. He came over and asked how she was doing. She unintentionally answered him with a yawn. He laughed as she apologized. It wasn’t a problem. Did she want to go to his trailer? He had a very comfortable bed.

“That sounds awesome! Thank you!”

He asked the on-set assistant to bring her over. They shared a quick kiss as she got up. He would come by and get her when it was time to leave. Once inside, she took her medications before crawling into bed. It was so comfortable, that she fell asleep almost instantly. He was not bothered at all by her being tired. It had been a long day.

“Random but I just did the most Bria thing ever yesterday.”

“What did you do”, Justin asked.

“I went the entire day with my underwear inside out. I’m sure you guys are thrilled to know that.”

The following morning, she was back to her usual energetic self. How did she not notice that? She had no idea. He, Bradley, and Matthew laughed. After getting back to the hotel, she got her pajamas on and brushed her teeth before falling asleep again. She woke up around ten fully rested. After getting ready, she went to Matthew’s hotel room where they were hanging out.

She chose a tank top and ankle-length skirt with the same lace-up sandals as the day before. Did she eat breakfast yet? No. They let her do that. During their conversation, she figured out where she knew Justin from. Where? Riley Poole. Yes, has she seen that movie? She saw it on television. It was the Disney channel or something. She thought it was awesome! He thanked her. That movie was so fun to make. He appreciated her enthusiasm.

Did she have any more information about the dog play date? No, she didn’t but she was looking forward to it! The last time she had a dog play date was about a year ago. Her friends, Phoenix and Linsey brought their new puppy over. They went outside and they ran around. Bradley asked if Brad was there. Yes, he was because it was after she got home from the rehab center.

She was still using her walker at the time, so she sat back and watched. It was still very fun, though. The dogs loved running around. Did she have a big yard? Yes, it was fenced-in with coyote rollers on top. It was the only way she would let her dogs outside. She would have to invite them over sometime when they were all back in LA. Did she buy her house? No, she and a friend designed it. He then hired whatever they were called to build it for her. Contractors? Yeah.

It was the first home she owned. What about her parents? They died in 1998, so it was just her. Maybe they could come over and hang out with them. They would like that. Thank you. Awesome! They laughed.

Kathy and Joe finally got to meet Bria when they came by her house with Phoenix and Linsey to drop off her animals. She invited them inside. They followed her to the living room where she was hanging out with Brad and Bradley. The guys got up to see if they needed help. Kathy thanked them. She wasn’t as mobile as she used to be, so walking around was hard. Brad helped her get comfortable on the couch. Could they get her anything? No, thank you.

Once everyone was settled and the animals were wandering around, they introduced themselves. Brad remembered Phoenix from the hospital. Yeah, he rotated in and out with whoever was there. What was his first name? It was David but his nickname was Phoenix. That’s what Bria and his band members called him. She joked about needing Bradford there to complete the Brad trifecta.

She was trying to figure out a way to get all three of them together at the same time. How was Baton Rouge? It was awesome!

“I was talking to Bradley about the dog play date idea that Mike had. I forget how the conversation went, but I had Matthew McConaughey listen to Meteora on my portable CD player thing. Because we were on a shuttle going from the hotel to the set and he said it was good music.”

“Mike told us about that! That is so cool! Thank you!”

“He is so fucking cool! Oh my god!”

They laughed. The entire week went by so fast. Linsey asked her if she did any shopping. Yes. Yes, she did. She had to ship everything because it wouldn’t fit into her suitcase. Would she do any acting? She didn’t know because it was more… complex than she thought it would be. But she had fun watching from the sidelines.

As she continued talking, they noticed she had brain fog where she struggled to come up with the words she wanted to use. It happened every so often, especially when she was tired. They were patient with her and they helped her out by suggesting words. It was a symptom of her brain damage. Kathy could tell she was a genuine person and a great friend to her son. For years, she had heard about her. Now she was grateful that she got to finally meet her.

@zoeykaytesmom @feelingsofaithless @alina-dixon

[aluraelizabeth]

23rd Birthday

Ten years ago you saw two gay teenage girls fall in love on television. You were 13. Do you remember how you felt? You were dizzy when you stood up. Remember what you thought? You thought, “no but I can’t be gay…how could I ever tell my family?!” Women are such creatures. Soft. They smell wonderfully and kiss gently. They are full of character and life. Songs. Songs on a breezy evening. A rope swing and summer denim. Comfortable. The first time you had sex was with a man. You loved him. The second, third, fifth, twelfth, and thirteenth person you slept with was a man. You didn’t love them but you loved sex. Some of them brought girls into the bedroom, for you it was all in good fun. The fourteenth person you slept with was a woman, but she was straight and so she never called you again. Confused, you slept with many more men after that. Men are not creatures. They are houses with bronze planks. You can see your reflection when you look at them up close. You admire them because they are straight lines. Horizontals in rugged terrain. Easy refugee in the terrible storm of growing up. Your cousin is gay. She would be 27 if she weren’t dead. When you were 10 and she was 14 you knew she was gay. You knew by the way she talked about her friends. She died before she ever told you she liked them more than friends. Sometimes you wonder if she died before she told anyone. Sometimes you wonder if she died before she told herself. You are an impossible creature; it is your birthday, you are in love with loneliness, and capable of intimacy only with your own self-deprecation. You are vulnerable. You don’t want to be torn-down. Refused. Ridiculed. You are afraid you are wrong. You are afraid you are right. You are afraid of what your future holds. You are afraid.

[lemon-boy-stan]

"PROM QUEEN"

summary: after leaving you alone at a party for one minute, king steve shows both his scary and his soft sides saving you from a creep who doesn't know what 'no' means. warnings: swearing, pissed off steve, mentions of alcohol and alcohol consumption. pairing: steve harrington x reader. an: this is set just before season one with king steve but he's got the same traits as from s3 lmao. completely spoiler free!

Highschool prom, senior year, 1983. It was your year. The prom queen, next to her prom king, her best friend, Steve the Hair Harrington.

The night had been amazing. You'd worn this beautiful dark blue shimmering gown, a silver necklace Steve had bought for you the previous weekend, and glittering heels, which hurt like a bitch, but killed on the dancefloor nonetheless.

It was the first time in a long time where you didn't care what people thought of you. The girls were either awed by or jealous of you. The guys either wanted to fuck you or beat up your date - but let's face it, who was going to touch you while King Steve was around, posing as your scary best friend?

Oh, yeah. Probably that drunk guy approaching you at the after party. You yourself were shitfaced drunk. You weren't sure if it was the Lights or just the alcohol, but it was so damn bright. You'd gone back to Steve's before the after party just to get changed into another outfit, but you ended up watching Looney Toons on his television, drinking beer until it was time to go. There was punch at the party. You'd had three glasses and were up to your fourth, but you weren't sure if there was alcohol in it.

The jock walked up to you, an annoyingly smug smile on his annoyingly smug face. "Hey, baby. Prom queen, right? Man, I gotta say. Your boobs were pretty bitchin' in that dress." his words made you flinch. How drunk was he? Maybe he was high, too.

"Um, thanks. But no thanks. I already have a boyfriend." you didn't actually have a boyfriend. But Steve always told you he was fine telling people you were dating if those people were creeps. But this creep was actually pretty smart. "I know you've not been sleeping with Harrington," sneered the jock, grabbing your waist, "now don't be a fucking bitch about it, and take it like a good girl, prom queen."

No," you tried to wriggle away, but the jock was too strong for you. He hoisted you up on the table and you knew the worst was going to happen. Who would notice? Everyone here was so shitfaced. The tears began to form in your eyes, there was no way you were getting out of this. "No, leave me alone. Please don't want to. Leave me alone. Steve. Steve! Steve! Leave me alone! Stop it. Steve!"

The moment he heard your screams from your screams from across the room he saw red. Steve dropped the ping-pong ball, heart thudding angrily in his chest. Someone was touching you. Someone was touching you. Where were you?

And then Steve found you. Struggling up on a table with some drunk asshole jock dickhead trying to grope you. The rage boiled in Steve's body. No one was allowed to touch you like that. No one.

The tears fell in streams from your eyes as the jock left sloppy kisses down your neck. Maybe, if you kept shaking your head, he would stop. "No, please. Please someone help me. Steve. Steve." you were shaking, fingers gripping the table when the jock flew off you like a superhero.

No, not like a superhero. Like someone had pulled him off. Dragged him. And threw him to the ground. Grabbed him by the collar and punched him in the face once, twice, a third, fourth, fifth time until you could hear better again.

"Don't - you - ever - DON'T YOU EVER FUCKING TOUCH HER AGAIN," and you wanted to tell Steve to stop, but you couldn't, your voice wouldn't work. Steve was still speaking between punches as he beat the jock unconsious, "SHE SAID NO! Don't you ever come near her again ever, ever!" and when Steve was finished two other emotions washed over his face, panic and worry as he ran over to you.

You were still on the table as you cried softly into Steve's shirt, limbs shaking almost numbly. You hadn't even realised when he'd lifted you up gently and held you close to him, His voice was shaky but he spoke calmly, "where did he touch you? Where did he touch you, baby?" you didn't know why he was calling you that, but it felt nice. Safe.

You shook your head into his neck, "n - no, he didn't. He didn't touch me. He just used his lips but I knew he was gonna but he didn't." Steve exhaled largely. You felt bad that he was still carrying you but you couldn't bear to face anyone at the party right now. Still speaking into his neck, you hiccuped the words, "Stevie. Wanna - wanna go home. Back to. Back to your place please please," using the nickname he'd had and hated since you were kids.

His voice was broken as he spoke, "yeah, yeah of course. Of course, baby, I'm taking you home now. You're okay. You're gonna be okay." the people watching left, but you couldn't muster anything to say except for the softest "Stevie. Love you." that spilled like vanishing smoke as Steve let out the words in a hearty sob, "I love you too," placing you gently in the seat of his car.

>> stranger things masterlist << requests are open!

>> navigation <<

[spvilers]

LAVENDER HAZE — S. BROWN

ღ summary; i just wanna stay/i just wanna stay in that lavender haze

ღ paring; stephanie brown x fem!queen!reader

ღ warnings; social media (yes it deserves a warning)

ღ song; lavender haze by taylor swift

FOR AS LONG as you could remember, Stephanie had always been there. Right by your side, in every single situation you could think of, the good ones and the bad ones.

You met her in elementary school, back when you still lived in Gotham, before Oliver Queen had decided to adopt you and you moved to Star City.

You knew about her father and you know how hard it was for Stephanie to see her father in jail, if she even saw him at all because he was absent most of the time. She knew about your parents car crash and about how you lived in an orphanage before the millionaire decided to adopted you

Stephanie was there for you when you first stepped foot into the world in which famous people lived, since being the adopted child of a millionaire made you also famous.

She was there when the media's attention on you started being uncomfortable, when they started criticizing and scrutinizing every single little thing that you did, and later, when it all died down again and they found someone else to give all of their attention to.

Stephanie was also by your side right now, literally. She was lying right next to you in your king-sized bed. The movie you two had been previously watching had ended, you turned off the television in front of you and got comfortable next to her. Her head was still on your chest and her arm was thrown over your stomach, clinging to you tightly.

The longer you stared at her, the more you started asking yourself what in the world you had done to deserve her and you tried to recall the exact moment when the lines between friendship and relationship had crossed but you couldn’t. It just had always been like this. You and Stephanie against the rest.

You lay there for a while, with your eyes staring up at the ceiling and a million and one thoughts flying through your head until you started feeling melancholic.

In an attempt to distract yourself, you looked at your phone for a little while but that had only worsened the situation. Every single website was filled up with things about you, but not really about you.

They were rumoring about you having flings with men, you had no interest in, seeing as you were only just friends with them.

Because, yes, you and Stephanie were out to everyone you know but you never officially stated it in the media that you were dating.

The websites were also wondering about when you’ll be finally marrying a man and who it would be because the only kind of girl they see is either one that has numerous ‘flings’ with different men or a wife.

Tears were welling up in your eyes and your nose started to clog up until you sniffled. Everything was just starting to feel like a little too much.

Apparently you haven't sniffled quiet enough because the arm around you tightened and Stephanie pressed a kiss against your temple. “Shhh,” She whispered. “It’s okay, it’s okay. Just let it all out.”

And that had only made you cry even harder, but not because you were sad, but because you appreciated her so much for putting up with you and all the drama that seemed to follow our every step and slowly, you could feel the lavender haze creeping up on you.

You and Stephanie had recently discovered the term ‘lavender haze’ when you were watching Mad Men and you have been obsessed with it ever since. Ironic, because purple is Stephanie’s favorite color.

You turned your head and buried it into the crook of her neck until you calmed down. “I’m sorry,” You sniffled finally. “I didn’t mean to wake you up. I’m sorry.”

Stephanie pulled your head away to look you directly in the eyes. “Never apologize for crying, okay?” She wiped the tears away from your cheeks. “If you’re not feeling alright you can always come to me. As long as I’m here you never have to do anything alone.”

The frown on your face turned into a sincere smile as you whispered, “God, I love you so much.”

Your girlfriend gave you her best smile, the one that has made you fall in love with her in the first place and she wiggles her eyebrows as she asks, “So what you’re saying is, you’re in a lavender haze?”