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cocastyle · 2 days ago

Text

I See You

Pairing — Bob Reynolds x reader

Word Count — 4k

Warning — SPOILER WARNING FOR THE THUNDERBOLTS* MOVIE I REPEAT SPOILER WARNING FOR THE THUNDERBOLTS* MOVIE!!

A/N — breaking my two years of not posting in honor of this amazing movie and character. the Thunderbolts* has reawakened my fire to write and I couldn’t ignore it. so here you go! this will be a bit of a short series. i kind of envision around three parts or so? anyways, i really hope you enjoy this and know this is your last warning before you continue on!! so if you haven’t seen the Thunderbolts* please save this for later <3

also, did you all notice the easter eggs i included ?? 👀

Part One Part Two

SPOILER WARNING FOR THE THUNDERBOLTS* MOVIE! READ AT YOUR OWN RISK!

Bob Reynolds wasn't quite sure how any of this had happened. One minute he was pretty sure he had been dying and the next he was trapped in a series of never ending nightmares. Except it wasn't just his nightmares, there were other people's too.

He knew he had been having these moments where he didn't remember things, knew that there was something going on at a deeper level than he wanted to admit. He thought with Valentina explaining this power he had been given that it would explain everything he had been feeling, that the darkness wasn't truly his but something brought on by this experiment.

But he knew the truth and walking through these endless nightmares only proved that. The darkness was his. It was a culmination of everything he was feeling, everything that had been consuming him, and it had only taken more of a physical form thanks to the Sentry project.

Bob had no way of fighting this thing, no way of taking back control of his body. And at this point he wasn't even sure if he wanted control. After all, he was just Bob. He was useless. He was nothing. Everyone would be better off without him.

So now he was trapped with no where else to go but to walk through the thousands of rooms of everyone's deepest regrets and shames.

It had been an accident at first, but sometime after his own meth chicken nightmare was when he first started stumbling into the other rooms. He saw so many things, felt the guilt and weight that everyone else felt. One in particular had stuck with him when he had ended up watching the loop of a blind lawyer watching his friend die over and over. Bob couldn't watch that for very long before he was hurriedly trying to get to any other room but that one, the blind man's cries still rattling his bones.

Bob didn't know how long he walked for or how many rooms he went through until he got to one that made him pause as he came face to face with Tony Stark. It had been a while since the hero's death, but still seeing the face of the man that had helped bring everyone back from the Blip made Bob falter slightly.

Someone's biggest trauma was Tony Stark?

Bob took a couple steps back, his eyes scanning over the room as he tried to ground himself in what was going on. He seemed to be in someone's apartment. The place would've been nice if it weren't for the fact that whoever was living here clearly hadn't been picking up after themselves in quite some time. And by the look Tony Stark was making as he glanced at the dirty dishes in the sink, it seemed he was thinking the same.

Bob knew the signs before he even saw her. It wasn't just the state of the apartment, but it was the feeling in the air. That feeling of despair, sadness, and nothingness. That feeling of knowing you were alone and there was nothing you could do about it. It clung to everything in the apartment and Bob's heart ached slightly at the sight. After all, he knew what this was like. He knew it too well.

"I can feel you judging me," a voice said, instantly pulling Bob's attention to the couch where a girl was sitting with a blanket wrapped around her and a bottle of vodka in hand. She wouldn't meet Tony Stark's eyes as she stared at the bottle, her fingers numbly fiddling with the label. "I didn't ask for you to come over and judge how I'm living. Hell, I didn't even ask you to come over, so you might as well go."

Tony let out a soft sigh, "Kid, you were ignoring my calls. Of course I was going to come check on you."

"Ever think I ignored them for a reason?"

Tony huffed and grabbed a chair from the kitchen table before dragging it over in front of the couch. He sat down in front of the girl, tilting his head slightly as he watched her before saying, "You can't keep living like this."

"You think I don't know that?" she asked, her voice bitter. “Why are you here, Tony?”

Tony just watched her in silence before saying, "Listen, Steve and Natasha came to see me yesterday and—"

The girl slammed the bottle down on the table so hard Bob thought it would break. Her eyes were red rimmed as she glared at the man and muttered, "No. We're not doing this. You're not going to sit there and try to rope me into some crazy plot to try and bring everyone back. It's been five years and I'm done, okay? I have nothing left in me anymore and I don't give a shit, so just leave."

"Kid—"

"I said leave!" she exclaimed, her eyes beginning to glow white with a power that Bob could almost feel beneath his own skin. "I'm not some sob story for you to try to fix, okay? I messed up and didn't kill Thanos in time and half of the universe had to pay for it. I'm done trying to help. All I ever do is hurt people."

She looked away, her voice rough when she whispered, "You're all better off without me anyways."

Bob sucked in a breath at that, understanding washing over him as he watched the broken girl do everything she could not to cry.

"Y/N," Tony began but the girl simply shook her head.

"No, Tony. I'm done. Just leave and go ahead and do yourself a favor and never come back. It's not worth your time or energy and I sure as hell don't want you here," she said, her head still turned.

Tony stilled slightly at her words. "You don't mean that," he told her, but before he could even blink, Y/N had used her telekinesis to pick up the bottle of vodka and send it hurtling in his direction. The man barely had time to duck out of the way before it flew right past where his head had been and shattered against the wall. Tony turned to her in surprise but the girl was already getting up and walking to the door of what had to be her bedroom.

"I miss him too you know," Tony called after her causing the girl to still.

"Stop," Y/N warned him, but Tony ignored her and instead stood up, his eyes not leaving her as he clearly made no move to leave.

"Y/N, he wouldn't want this for you. That kid loved you so much. He would be devastated by—"

"I said stop!" Y/N yelled and before anyone knew what was happening, a force was suddenly throwing Tony across the room. The man thought fast and his nano suit had wrapped around him before he could even hit the wall and Bob watched as the color drained from Y/N's face at what she had done.

She was shaking as she stared at Tony, but by the time he was looking back up at her, the Iron Man mask sliding away from his face, she was cold once again. "Get the hell out of my apartment," was all she said before turning and walking into her room, slamming the door behind her. Bob watched her go, frowning slightly as the scene began to play again.

"That was before they won against Thanos," a voice said causing Bob to flinch in surprise. He quickly turned around to find Y/N a little ways behind him, sitting down at a chair in the corner of the room. Her eyes continued to watch the scene playing out in front of her and Bob was almost beginning to question if she had spoke in the first place when she muttered, "That was the last time I saw him before he died."

Her eyes met his then and Bob stilled under her gaze. She was a couple of years older than the version of her from the memory, a little more put together but in the kind of way that screamed help more than her younger self's look had. She had learned to mask it more, that much was clear. Or maybe it was just that Bob knew where to look, that he saw himself when he looked at her and knew in more ways than one just how tired she was.

"Who was he talking about?" Bob asked, silently cursing himself for that being the first thing he said but knowing he now had to just go with it. "The guy?"

Y/N hesitated, her eyes glazing over as she got lost in thought. There was a tiny moment of utter sadness that flashed across her face but it was gone so quickly as she muttered, "I don't know." She let out a sad laugh. "Isn't that sad? It's like there's blanks in my memory. All I know is that there is this immense feeling of loss not just once, but twice. Every time I try to think of him it's like the image of him only gets fuzzier."

Bob was silent for a moment. "I have trouble remembering things too," he admitted. "There are these moments where it's like I'll wake up from a dream I don't remember having and that time is just gone."

Y/N's eyes flickered his way, her gaze shifting over him in a way that made him stand up a little straighter. "I walked through a lot of rooms before ending up here," she told him, her eyes still studying him as though she were trying to piece him together. "This was the only one I couldn't leave."

"Why?" Bob questioned.

"Why did you stop in this one?" she retorted and Bob blinked in surprise. Her head tilted slightly as she stared blankly at the boy. It was a moment before she looked away and back at Tony who was watching her past self slam the door shut behind her as the memory started back up again. "I just wanted to see him again, I guess," she whispered. "I always hated this moment, hated that I pushed him away like that and left him to fight Thanos without me. Sometimes I wonder..."

She trailed off before shrugging slightly and looking back at Bob. "Guess I was as shocked by seeing Tony's face as you were when you walked in," Y/N said. Bob barely even thought his question before she placed a finger against her temple and let out a small sigh of exhaustion. "Telekinesis," she stated. "Just a fraction of the power I was born with, but it comes in handy from time to time. I knew who you were the second you walked into this memory. Your mind is very loud, but not in the way you'd expect it to be."

Bob wanted to ask her more, but it was clear she didn't want to expand on that comment. Instead she merely tapped her fingers against the arm of the chair she sat in and said, "So you're the one doing this."

It wasn't a question. She said it as though it were fact. Not that she was wrong, but something about the way she said it still made Bob's throat constrict.

"It's not. . .it's not me. It's—" Bob broke off and he could see the way she stared at him, knew that she was reading his mind. She blinked and quickly looked away. "Sorry," she whispered. "I can't help it sometimes. You lock yourself away long enough and you'll find it harder to control what once was so easy. But I get a sense that you know that."

Bob let out a small sigh, his eyes flickering over the past Y/N who sat on the couch with a haunted look in her eyes and a tight grip on the bottle in her hand.

"We've all done some bad things," Y/N told him, answering the questions flying through his mind. "I had the unfortunate experience of being the reason half the universe died. I was there that day that Thanos went to Wakanda to take the Mind Stone from Vision. I was the last one there before he snapped. I could've stopped it, but I let his words get to me and . . . well, you know the rest."

“The Blip,” Bob muttered and Y/N nodded solemnly. He could see her trying to keep it all together, but the tension was practically radiating off of her as she avoided his gaze.

“Go ahead and say it,” Y/N told him, her gaze locked on her past self who was busy hurling the bottle at Tony’s head. “You probably lost someone in the Blip, right? Had to suffer five years without them? Who was it? Family? Friends?”

Y/N didn’t even give him time to respond as she let out a sigh as if everything were pointless, “It doesn’t matter. Everyone still thinks the same thing, but I don’t blame them.”

“It’s my fault,” she admitted. “I caused everyone so much pain and suffering and then, when I had the chance to make things right, I pushed everyone away and locked myself in my room. Then Natasha died. Then Tony. And eventually Steve followed. And where was I? Drowning my sorrows in a bottle like the asshole that I am.” Y/N scoffed slightly at herself, the fury in her eyes something most people would probably flinch at but all Bob could do was soften at the sight. “So go ahead and say what you want. Call me names. Shout at me. Tell me how much of a monster I am. I deserve it. I’ll always deserve it.”

Bob didn’t say anything. He didn’t know what he could say. Not because it was all too much to process, but because he understood it. He understood what she was feeling. The pain and the anger. The guilt and regret. The shame. He understood it in ways he couldn’t even begin to comprehend.

But the silence was loud and Y/N wouldn’t meet his eyes. She just stared at the scene in front of her as her past self’s voice filled the silence between them, her voice rough as she whispered, "You're all better off without me anyways."

Y/N flinched at those words, her face crumbling slightly as she leaned her head back and closed her eyes. Bob felt his heart ache at the sight and for a moment, he saw himself sitting there in that chair. But more importantly, he saw her. He saw Y/N for who she truly was. He didn’t know what to say to her to make her better, so instead he just thought it.

I see you.

Y/N's eyes snapped up to him and Bob knew he hadn't had to say that out loud. She had heard him loud and clear.

She stood without another word, her eyes never leaving his as she walked towards him. She was quiet as she stopped in front of him, her gaze turning questioning as she studied him.

You do see me, don't you?

Bob let out a small gasp as her voice echoed in his head. He stared at her with wide eyes, but didn't flinch away not even when she took a step closer so that they were only a breath apart.

I can feel it, you know? That darkness. It calls to me.

"You know where he is?" Bob asked and Y/N quickly shook her head.

"I'm not talking about the Void," she whispered. She gently lifted her hand and placed it on his chest, right above his heart. "Here."

Bob's breath stuttered and he tried to keep his heart from racing as he whispered, "W-what does it say?"

"That it understands," Y/N replied. "That it sees what’s inside my own heart.” She hesitated before giving him a sad smile. “Like calls to like after all."

Bob stared at her, his eyes flickering over her face. He had thought she was pretty before, but up close she was even more beautiful than he could’ve imagined. Her eyebrow quirked slightly as if she had heard that thought and maybe she had, but Y/N was already moving on which he was silently thankful about.

“You feel it too,” she said and Bob didn’t need to say it out loud to confirm her thoughts. After all, he knew what she was talking about and she was right. Ever since he had emerged into this room, he had felt a sort of tug. It was the reason he had stayed. He thought it was because of seeing Tony Stark, but it was because he had felt her from the moment he had stepped foot into that room.

It was because he had seen her before ever laying eyes on her and it seemed she had done the same.

“I don’t know what to do,” Bob admitted, his words strained. “Every time I think I’m getting better, that I’ve finally pulled myself out of that darkness, I just. . .”

“Get pulled back under again?”

Bob was quiet for a moment, his gaze dropping to the floor as that same feeling of shame that always crept up when he thought about his problems beginning to rise in the form of a blush on his neck, “Yeah.”

There was a gentle touch against his chin before Y/N lifted his head so that his gaze met hers once more. Her touched lingered for just a moment, but then her hand was dropping back down to her side. Not once did she move the one that was still resting on his chest and above his heart, the only source of comfort either of them seemed to need.

She gave him a sad smile, her eyes getting a sort of far off look as she whispered, “Sometimes the hardest battle you’ll ever face is with yourself.”

Bob felt tears prick his eyes at those words and for a moment, he even felt a sense of comfort. Someone knew what he was going through. Someone understood.

He had never had that before.

“How do we beat it?” Bob’s voice was barely above a whisper.

Y/N seemed to come back to herself at those words, her eyes locking with his once more and her hand tightened on his shirt. “I don’t know,” she admitted. “But I’d like to figure that out. Together.”

Bob swore he stopped breathing at those words.

“Together,” he repeated, tears filling his eyes slightly out of disbelief.

Y/N merely nodded and she gently reached up, her thumb quickly swiping under his eye to brush away a stray tear that had fallen. Her own eyes were lined with tears as she whispered through a soft laugh, “Yeah, together. As long as you’re okay with being friends with the girl who does nothing but screw everything up.”

Bob couldn’t stop the small grin that began to peak out, the corners of his lips twitching up slightly as he opened his mouth to respond.

It was then that the doors to the room flew open, darkness flooding in and covering the walls and floors with black tendrils as it raced towards the two. The two stumbled back and away from each other as they tried to avoid the darkness creeping in and Y/N let out a small shout when her past self and Tony dissolved into nothing but shadows.

“Bob,” Y/N called out, but the boy was already reaching for her. He had ahold of her arm within a second and he pulled her to the one corner of the room not covered in darkness just yet.

His eyes were wide as he scanned what was left of the room, his grip tightening on Y/N’s arm in slight panic and confusion as he tried to process what was happening.

The darkness had never come after Bob before.

Not like this.

Something had signaled the Void. Something had scared him.

Bob’s eyes flickered to Y/N who was leaning into his touch, the tips of her fingers already beginning to glow white as she clearly analyzed the situation. His fingers felt warm against her forearm and for a moment he let himself remember the feel of her hand on his chest, the way her breath had fanned his face, and the way her words had wrapped around his heart like a hug he hadn't know he had needed.

And he knew.

The Void fed off of his sadness and loneliness and whatever Y/N had been making him feel was the opposite. The Void would do whatever he needed to crush this feeling, to stay in control. Even if it meant there were casualties along the way.

Bob’s heart ached at that thought and he quickly turned to Y/N who was backing closer to him as they were pushed further into the corner of the room and her memory. She moved her arm out of his grasp in order to hold her hands up, a white light emitting out against the darkness as she tried to hold it at bay.

"Bob, what's going on?" she asked. "What do we do?"

"I—" Bob was panicking now, the thought of Y/N getting hurt making him feel so many emotions that he hadn't felt in a long time. It scared him how much he felt towards the girl within just one conversation. He already knew he would do whatever needed to be done to save her and that thought alone scared him in more ways than one. Even more than the plan that was beginning to develop in his head, the plan that would save Y/N but would mean leaving her at the same time.

As soon as the thought crossed his mind, Y/N's head whipped in his direction. "Bob, no. You can't run. You have to fight this thing. If you don't, the darkness will only continue to consume you," she said.

"Cause you know what that's like?" Bob retorted, his panic and fear making him sound bitter. "We just watched the same memory over and over of you letting the darkness take over. If you can't fight it, what makes you think I can?"

Y/N's eyes softened slightly. "Bob," she started, but the darkness pushed closer towards them and she let out a strangled sound as she strained to keep her powers in check.

Bob watched her for a second, his eyes flickering over her one last time before he leaned forward. His lips brushed gently against her ear and he felt her shiver slightly under his touch. His breath came out shaky as he whispered, "I would've liked to be your friend."

Then, before she could do or say anything else, Bob had pulled back and thrown himself against the wall of the memory. His body broke through the barrier and into the next room, the darkness leaving Y/N behind in favor of chasing the boy.

"Bob!" Y/N cried out as she attempted to lunge after him, but the darkness threw her back and by the time she was up on her feet again, the memory had sealed itself around her, forcing her to relive the same moment with Tony while Bob got away.

- - -

Bob didn’t know how long he ran for. All he knew was that it took forever for him to get back to his own rooms. He almost cried when the meth chicken scene appeared before him, but he didn’t stop there. He continued his trek even after the darkness eventually faded away, now satisfied that Bob was back where he belonged.

Everything was just too loud, the memories too much for Bob to withstand while that feeling of utter loneliness crept up on him once more. It was foolish of him to think he could ever have someone understand him, that he could ever have someone in his life without hurting them in the end. He had done this to himself.

He deserved to be alone.

At some point Bob eventually managed to find the attic of one of his memories, the only quiet place in this miserable void, and he was quick to tuck himself away in there, away from all the noise and the darkness that he could feel feeding off of everyone's chaos.

It was only then that he sat down and curled in on himself, his breathing shaky as he tried to push every last thought of Y/N out of his head.

"She's better off without me," Bob whispered to himself like a mantra, his head tucked close to his knees as he let the stillness envelope him in a hug much different than the one Y/N’s words had given him. “She’s better off without me.”

“Everyone is.”

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mallory524 · 18 hours ago

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a bunch of teenagers

bob x reader

(she/her)

pictures from pinterest

summary- Bob has really started to like you, but he assumes you don’t feel the same way about him. You do though, and everyone seems to know that except Bob… and apparently also Walker, who really thought he had a chance

warnings- thunderbolts* spoilers kinda, thunderbolts being roomies and hanging out yayy, pining, slight jealousy, bob not feeling very confident :( small mention of void stuff, slightly suggestive mention, john walker likes you and of course that goes absolutely nowhere, bucky is getting too old for this foolishness, hand holding, fluff

word count- 1443

notes- i will write for any of the thunderbolts, you guys, the obsession has reallyyy set in

The view of the sunset from the Watchtower is a beautiful backdrop for an already nice evening with the group. You’re all sitting around, waiting for Bucky to come back with food for everyone. Alexei is telling some awfully embarrassing childhood story about Yelena, who keeps trying to cut him off mid-story. "No listen, I was a small child-"

Bob is listening and occasionally laughing, but he’s focusing on you more than he’s focusing on the story. You’re sitting right next to Alexei and trying really hard not to laugh at his story (for Yelena’s sake) but occasionally you cover your face as your whole body shakes with laughter. Bob loves it. He loves seeing you smile. He feels like he’s being weird so he looks away, but he quickly notices that he’s not the only one looking at you.

Walker, who’s sitting right across from him, keeps glancing your way, too. Bob’s never considered before that Walker would like you, but it's not surprising. Of course he would. You’re so funny and smart and you’re tough, but you can also be so kind and, of course, you’re absolutely beautiful... Walker would have to be so dumb to not to see all of that, but it doesn’t mean that Bob approves of this at all.

He doesn’t think Walker is right for you, and he's never considered that you might see Walker that way, but now the idea is in his head and he hates it.

Walker can be a real jerk, (and of course he’s got some rage issues), but he is good looking, and he’s actually able to help on missions. Bob has to stay back most of the time. Plus, sometimes Walker can be pleasant. Sometimes.

Walker also doesn’t risk showing you your most awful traumatic memories every time you touch. Bob’s mostly got it under control now, but it doesn’t matter because now he’s got the mental image of you and Walker touching and that makes him feel nauseous. The idea of you and Walker-

He doesn’t realize he’s been intensely staring down Walker until he looks up at Bob with the most confused look on his face and mouths “what??”.

Even the mere idea of something happening between you and Walker is bothering him, and he can't get it out of his head. I don't know why I'm upset. It's not like I ever had a chance.

After dinner, everyone starts to split up and do their own thing around the tower for the rest of the night. Of course, no one bothered to clean up after themselves, so you take it upon yourself. Bob walks over and hands you another dirty plate. “Sorry”, he says with a shy little laugh.

“Aww dang", you say with a chuckle, "Thanks for actually handing me your dishes, though. Ava left hers on the floor”, and the two of you quietly snicker.

Bob awkwardly fiddles with random things on the counter, as if one of them will give him another excuse to stay there and keep talking to you. You suspect that's what he's doing, but you never know exactly what's going on in his head. Whatever he's doing, it's endearing. Although, you find everything about him endearing: his smile, his little laugh he does every time he's nervous, his messy curls that are starting to fall over his eyes...

You realize neither of you have said anything in a while. "Hey, how are you feeling tonight? You've been extra quiet", you tell him with a sweet smile.

Bob panics, "No, what? I'm fine. Um. I'm just tired, that's what it is", and he smiles at you, but then the direct eye contact is a little too much for him and he redirects his smile to the tile floor.

"Okay, just checking", You aren't sure if you believe him, but you're not going to push it. "Hey, did you see that video where-", and you start talking about something else.

Yelena walks back into the room to grab her phone, and she smiles and rolls her eyes when she sees you happily talking and laughing together.

At some point, Walker strolls in and soo casually leans against the counter, (he thinks he's being really cool), and thanks you for cleaning up, completely ignoring Bob, who is standing right there and helping clean up, too. Bob glances at you, trying to see if you act any different when Walker's around.

As Walker steps back into the hallway to go to bed, he stops walking for a second and glances back at you from afar, until a voice totally pulls him out of his thoughts.

“Don’t even think about it”

“Geez Bucky, don’t sneak up on me like that”, Walker says before turning back to look at you and Bob again. “But seriously, do you think I should go for it?”

“No”, Bucky says with no hesitation.

“Well don’t think too hard about it.” Walker responds sarcastically and crosses his arms defensively.

“I’m not just saying this to be disagreeable. Everyone knows she kind of…” Bucky starts to say before trailing off.

“What? What is it?”

Bucky hesitates and then decides Walker isn’t going to let it go. He leans in and quietly says, “Everyone around here kinda thinks she likes Bob.”

He’s dumbfounded. “Bob?? You cannot be serious. There’s no way that-”

“Watch it, John”

“No, you know I love Bob! But come on, don’t you think if I put the idea out there that maybe she’d at least consider it?”

Bucky groans dramatically, “Ughh I do not want to be involved in all this. I’m just letting you know I think you’d be... unsuccessful”, and as Walker rolls his eyes and walks back to his room for the night, Bucky notices that Bob’s down the hall, and has apparently been listening to the entire thing.

Bob quickly walks up to Bucky. “Do you think that’s true? Actually?”, he says in a hushed tone, with what can only be described as big hopeful puppy dog eyes.

Bucky mutters something under his breath about his new team being “a bunch of teenagers” and then turns to face Bob again. “I mean, she hasn’t said anything to me, but it’s pretty clear. Yelena and Ava were talking about this earlier and they think so, too.”

Bob can’t believe this. There’s no way. He doesn't want to get his hopes up, but if 4 of his friends think so, then maybe it really is true?

Bucky puts a hand on his shoulder. “Ask her to get lunch with you or something tomorrow. You can decide for yourself.”

Bob starts to frantically shake his head, “No, no I can’t do that, it would be so embarrassing if she didn’t want to.”

“Come on, man. She’ll want to. You should probably do this soon before Walker beats you to it”, Bucky says with a little laugh.

That was enough to convince him.

The next afternoon, you’ve been training for a bit, and now you’re going over some random important documents the group was sent. You see Bob over at the counter, so you decide to walk over and pour yourself some tea, too.

“Hey, Bob”, you say cheerfully, and he turns to look at you.

“Hi”, and he pours the tea into your mug without you having to ask.

You thank him and then look in his eyes. He’s clearly thinking about something. “Bob?”

“Would you like to go get lunch with me today?”, he says out of nowhere. He says it like he thinks that if he didn’t ask you now, he never would. Which is probably true. Any more time to think about it and he might've convinced himself it was the worst idea ever.

You smile warmly at him. “Yeah I’d love to. What time were you thinking?”

Bob is so caught off guard by your positive response that he almost doesn’t answer. “Uhh, we could go in half an hour. If that works for you, of course.”

“Yeah that works. Thanks Bob!”, you say, and then you gently pat him on the shoulder and leave the room to shower and get changed. Bob stands there for a second, hoping he didn't just imagine all of that.

When the two of you are ready, you slowly take his hand, and he lightly squeezes your hand back and smiles at you.

Over on the couch, Ava smiles, and Bucky pats Walker on the back with no real sympathy. "Told ya".

Walker kind of scoffs, but he can't help but smile just a little as he watches Bob step into the elevator, happily holding your hand.

#thunderbolts*#thunderbolts x reader #bob x reader #bob reynolds x reader #bob reynolds #bob x fem!reader #fem!reader #robert reynolds x reader #robert reynolds #x reader #marvel #marvel x reader #thunderbolts spoilers #john walker #bucky barnes

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sinner-as-saint · 7 hours ago

Text

stick to me, like caramel

Retired!Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: Sergeant Barnes has retired, and moved as far away as possible from the superhero life. He’s still in touch with some of his friends, but he never asks them to visit. Nor does he ever leave the quaint, warm small town he’s found himself in, or the spacious home he has, nestled between mountains and dense pine woods. Bucky lives a quiet life, away from danger, guns and bullets, aliens and wizards, and all the other noises. He likes it here. It’s calm, nice, and quiet. Nothing stresses him out, nothing bothers him. Nothing, except a certain neighbour of his. She torments him, in the best ways. And Bucky’s not sure how long he can resist her.

Themes: age gap (I mean he’s a century old), smut, mild primal play, FLUFF, mild degrading kink, angst, soft!bucky, mild praise kink, HEA

Keep walking. Keep walking. Keep walking.

He chanted in his head as he walked down the almost empty road, the sun was gonna set soon and most people were all inside their cosy homes, the elder ones at least. The young people hung out mostly in parking lots, or they drove up the mountains. So, not many people about. Which was one of the many reasons he decided to spend his retirement here. The roads were always empty at this time, and Bucky liked silent, long walks during sunset hours.

It calmed him down. That was it. No other reason. Of course he didn’t go on walks at this specific time just so he would run into you. Of course he didn’t choose this specific road for his daily walks only because this was where your little bookstore was situated. And of course he didn’t pick this exact time to go on his walks only because he knows this is also the time when you close up your store and walk home – completely unbeknownst to the fact that Bucky frequently followed you from a distance, making sure you got home safe.

Okay, it sounded a little stalker-ish. But he didn’t mean any harm. Plus he lived right next to you. Granted there was a little uphill walk from your house to his, but still. He was bound to take the same path anyway.

He didn’t even know when exactly this little infatuation stemmed out of nowhere. Perhaps it happened on the very first day, when he woke up in the morning and stepped out on his balcony to take in the breathtaking view of the foggy woods, the rich veridian pine trees, the dark mountains, the rain clouds, when he suddenly spotted a bright red spot moving along the edge of the woods not far from his home. Bucky squinted and a few moments later realised he was staring at a young woman, wearing a red coat, who was frolicking about, picking flowers.

Bucky couldn’t help but smile at the mundane task. It was peaceful to watch, so he kept watching until he noticed the woman was making her way back. He watched as she got closer and closer, until she stopped, looked up right at him, and waved.

Bucky waved back awkwardly, only then realising that the woman he’d been spying on was his next door neighbour. That was the first time Bucky saw you. And ever since, you’d been basically living in his head.

His little crush on you only got worse when, by the end of his first week since moving there, you showed up at his door and brought him a basket filled with all sorts of baked goods, muffins and cookies, which smelled divine. Bucky accepted the basket a little clumsily because he was nervous, and made small talk but really, he was freaking out because you were even more beautiful up close.

“I’m your neighbour!” You announced, smiling up at him. Again, wearing that lovely red coat. Your hood was down this time though.

Bucky nodded, smiling sheepishly, “Yeah, I saw you the other day.”

You turned and pointed at one area not far from Bucky’s property, “The edible flowers I love grow around there, and I usually pick them in the morning.”

Edible flowers. He didn’t care what you were doing there. Picking flowers or worshipping at the altar of some ancient deity. All he cared about was that you were here talking to him. “I see.”

“I use them in my baking, my customers love them!”

Well he was thankful that his lack of social and communication skills hadn’t scared you off just yet. But also, customers? “Customers?” He questioned.

“I own the only bookstore in this little town.” You said proudly. “Not many readers though, I’m afraid.” You chuckled, “So I bribe them with muffins, cookies, and tea.” You explained, “Stop by sometime, I’d love to show you around!”

Bookstore. Muffins. Cookies. Tea. Pretty girl. Retirement wasn’t so bad afterall. “I’ll… I’ll make sure to visit soon.”

He never did.

But he did watch you from a distance ever since that day. It was weird at first, but then it became part of his normal. Knowing what time you were up and about upon noticing the smoke that came out of the chimney of your home – which was a beautiful, old, rustic, wood and stone house. He’d heard from one of the kind old men at the pub that the house belonged to your grandma before she passed. She left it to you in the will.

Other older folks at the pub told him more about you. How you had no family members around. Some estranged siblings but they were out of the picture, and who knows where in the world. Your parents were not in the picture either. Some even said that your late grandmother had left you all her money, which was why your entire family envied you and shunned you out basically.

His heart broke a little when he heard that. Sweet girl like you deserved nothing less than a loving family. But you had friends. He often saw you out and about, at stores, at the diner or restaurants for brunch, at coffee shops, at the florist, always surrounded by a group of giggling women.

Other details he found out on his own the more he spied on you. Like how you had your own little walled garden in your seemingly endless backyard, growing your own vegetables and herbs.

He knew what time you left to go open up your store each morning because he would always hear you yell in a cheery voice, ‘Bye, House!’ whenever you stepped out of your metal gates.

He knew that you often left out food for wild bunnies to come eat in your backyard. He knew exactly on which days of the week you went into the woods to get those edible flowers. He knew what time you got home, he knew all your favourite songs because you would play them often in your kitchen and his super soldier hearing would pick it up easily.

He knew so much about you, yet so little. He wanted to know more, but he was always so nervous to step into your bookstore and talk to you. Or, on the rare occasions when he found himself at the grocery store at the same time as you, he’d get out of there so fast it was almost funny.

He was well above a hundred years old, stronger than the average male on this planet, and yet his cute neighbour made him weaker than anything ever had. There was a time, lifetimes ago, when flirting with a pretty girl came naturally to him. But now… he was a different man. So he decided he’d only watch you from a distance. And yearn. And pine. And long for your attention.

He thought he’d spend the rest of his days being tormented by the sound, the sight, and the mere thoughts of you. Always watching from far away, never being brave enough to reach out.

But things changed that one day you reached out.

Bucky was in his backyard, building himself a new shelf. He needed one for his kitchen. All those years, he’d survived in empty, temporary houses and apartments. But now, this was much more permanent and he wanted it to feel like home. So he needed things. Lots of things. Like furniture. But he hated shopping for them. So since he was surrounded by a seemingly endless forest, containing lots of wood he could use, he decided to make himself useful and build his own stuff.

So far he’d built himself a couple of chairs, a coffee table, two bedside tables, and now he found himself in need of a nice shelf for his kitchen. So there he was, being a lumberjack for the day, when he heard his doorbell ringing.

Bucky knew immediately who it must be.

You.

He dropped his axe, and tried to get all the sawdust off him while he marched towards his front door. His heart only skipping a beat or two as he opened his door and found you standing on the other side of it, looking as cheerful as ever.

“Hello, neighbour.” You greeted him. Not wearing your pretty red coat this time he noticed.

“Hey,” He said, sounding more stoic than he intended.

You quickly explained why you were at his doorstep so late in the evening. Behind you, the sun was setting and it was getting rather dark. “The heater in my living room isn’t working well. I was wondering if you could come check it out for me.”

Bucky wasted no time in saying, “Sure.”

Then he followed you to your house.

He had always admired your house’s exterior. The slate grey stone, the wooden accents, the large windows and their bright flowers in the window boxes. The low hedge that wrapped around your property, the wrought iron double gates, it was all so… out of a fairytale looking. Compared to his well hidden log home that blended so well with the environment that often you wouldn’t notice it.

But as much as he liked the exterior, the interior of your home blew his mind. It was so… home-y. He could smell some sort of freshly baked goods. And it was heavenly. Everything inside your home was vintage looking. Every furniture, every trinket, every painting and sculpture that looked like they cost a fortune.

Then he realised, this was your grandmother’s home. Of course everything in it was old. So he tried to find bits and pieces of you everywhere he looked. And he did. New books on the bookshelf near the entrance that looked like it was older than he was. New vinyls hanging on the wall amongst the old ones. Fresh flowers in old vases in your foyer. And there might be so much more but he couldn’t exactly be a creep and stare for too long. So he followed you as you led him to your living room.

He would have admired your living room a little longer, but then even he could feel how much colder this room was compared to the rest of the house. So he got to work immediately, kneeling by the heater. He knew how to fix it, it was easy enough with his metal hand. But he also didn’t wanna be too quick.

“So,” He cleared his throat while pretending to be busy with the old-fashioned heater, “Old man down the street told me you had no family in this town.”

Yeah, real smooth Bucky. He cursed himself.

“Yup!” You answered, like he asked you about the weather instead.

Bucky looked up and found you sitting on your couch, legs crossed, like a spoiled little thing while he knelt on your floor fixing your heater for you. He wanted to know more, so he asked, “And is that by choice or…?”

You sighed, then told Bucky the truth. “I am the youngest. My siblings and I never got along when we were kids. I spent years thinking surely something will change when we get older, but no.” It was a little sad talking about it, but nothing you couldn’t handle. “Then mom and dad separated and they each went their own way. Last I heard my father was onto his third wife, and my mother was backpacking around the world with some of her friends. All my siblings left home one by one. Then when I left for uni I made the decision to never go back to that empty house.”

Bucky stopped pretending to work on the heater. He’d fixed it, so now he sat next to it, back against the wall as he watched you. He wanted to gather you in his arms and never let you go.

“I would’ve figured something out.” You said, with a determined smile. “I always wanted to move to a small town, maybe even a coastal one. But then as I was finishing up my final year, I got a phone call one day. It was my grandma, and she was sick and needed assistance.” Another soft smile, this one sadder. “It felt like a sign. And it was the right thing to do. So I moved here. And lost contact with my family, there was complete radio silence even after grandma passed.”

Bucky looked away for a moment, the thought of you going through all that alone was heartbreaking. But you were so brave.

You continued, “So yeah, I’ve been on my own ever since. And I love this place, these people.” You looked right at him and added, “And handy neighbours who fix my heater.”

Bucky smiled. “All fixed.” He grunted as he got up from the floor.

“Thank you!”

You walked Bucky to the front door, then just as he was about to step outside you called out, “Oh Bucky, wait! I almost forgot.”

Bucky watched how you ran back inside, towards your kitchen and then ran back towards him with a little basket.

“Here,” You handed him the basket filled with sweet smelling stuff. “I baked them this morning.”

Bucky peeked and found a bunch of chocolate chip cookies. He looked back at you and found you smiling at him. He smiled back then rolled his eyes as he stepped out of your home, groaning, “Gonna make me fat with all your sweet stuff.”

You giggled, leaning against your doorframe as Bucky stepped down the steps of your porch. “You can always work out more. You know, chop more wood in the mornings, or run by the lake more.”

Bucky stopped on the last step and turned to face you. His heart beating a little faster as the realization sunk in. “You stalk me.” He sounded like he was teasing you.

You smirked, “Don’t you? You think I don't know you follow me home almost everyday?”

“Alright, fine.” Bucky rolled his eyes again. “But you stalk me too.”

“You’re loud when you chop wood in the morning. It wakes me up early.” You argued, eyeing him up and down, shamelessly. Gods, he was a handsome man. Even more so with that tight long sleeved shirt and dark jeans.

“I see.” He mumbled. “You like the early morning view?” He caught himself asking before he could think about it twice. What? He knew he looked good. He wanted to know if you appreciated the view.

You gave him another sly smirk as you answered, “Very much.”

He smiled at you. Then nodded and said, “Good night, neighbour. Thanks for the goodies.”

“Good night, Bucky.”

—

The next morning, you woke up to the sound of light rain hitting your bedroom window, and the muffled repeated sound of an axe hitting wood. You smiled before you even opened your eyes. Waking up to the sound of rain was always delightful. But the sound of someone chopping wood had recently become your new favourite.

Bucky.

You pulled back the covers and quickly walked over to your bedroom window. You peeled back the curtains and found Bucky in his backyard.

Shirtless.

You froze.

The sight of him there, wearing nothing but his usual jeans and boots, axe in his hands, the metal arm glistening almost as much as his damp, muscular chest. Fuck. He looked divine. His longish hair was damp as well, a few strands falling over his face, and the muscles in his arm and back flexing each time he brought the axe down.

You were mesmerised by the sight of him there, with the dark woods as background. The light rain falling over him. And the blue of his eyes staring right at you–

You gasped and quickly shut the curtains again when you realised he’d looked up and caught you staring at him. Your face felt hot as you hid behind the heavy curtains. Your heart raced a little faster and you felt like a little kid who got caught doing something you shouldn’t. Shit.

Oh well. Whatever. He knew you watched him.

So you peeled the curtains back again and found him smirking at you. He lifted his right hand, waving at you like any good neighbour would. You smiled and waved back, then forced yourself to look away from his gorgeous face and body, and get away from the window to get ready for your day ahead.

That image of him chopping wood in the rain didn’t leave your head the entire morning.

—

Bucky didn’t know what exactly made him do it. Maybe it was the interaction you two had had that morning. The heat in your eyes as you watched him, the way your lips parted just so slightly, and he was certain he could see how you were breathing heavily just looking at him.

He’d been smiling to himself all morning when he thought about that brief interaction. The way you hid when he caught you was… cute. But you went away so quickly. He wanted to see you again, he wanted more.

So perhaps that’s why he finally found himself walking into your cosy little bookstore. It was exactly what he was expecting it to be. Dark interior with dimmed lights. Spacious middle area with little reading nooks scattered all over the place. Dark, velvet couches and bright pillows. A tea and a coffee station right next to each other by the large window, and baskets filled with baked goods. Muffins and cookies. He could smell whatever fancy candles you must have burning somewhere.

“Bucky!”

He turned around and found you smiling at him, a tiny book in your hand. He smiled back, and decided you were the prettiest thing he’d ever seen in his long life. Dressed in a simple black dress and dark red cardigan, you looked… even more delicious than all the things you baked. He was thankful there was no one in the store to witness how he checked you out shamelessly.

“Hey,” He said, then looked around and commented, “Nice place.”

“Thanks,” You walked up to him.

Stopping right in front of him, close enough that he could smell your perfume and it was driving him insane. It was something citrus and feminine, reminding him of blood oranges, pomegranates, and delicate flowers. And it made him want to pull you closer. But he shoved his hands in the pockets of his leather jacket instead.

“It was my grandma’s.” You explained, and he listened with interest. “She left me quite… a lot in the will so I don't really have to worry about my livelihood. Which I’m very grateful for. And even though it’s not great business, I decided to keep running the store just to keep her memory alive.”

Bucky smiled again at how kind you truly were. “That’s nice of you.”

You gave him another pretty smile. “I have some loyal customers, they come to buy books every few weeks. But most of all, people like to come here just to read. Or hang out. So I always have warm drinks and sweet treats ready.” Then you turned to him and asked politely, “What brings you here? I didn’t quite picture you as a guy who reads.” You teased.

His voice was laced with sarcasm as he said, “And I didn't picture you as a woman who spies on her shirtless neighbours, but here you are.”

He could tell that caught you off guard. Maybe you’d thought he would never bring it up. But, Bucky decided, it was fun to tease you.

“I don’t know what you mean.” You replied, giving him that look he loved. The innocent one, with mischief hidden somewhere.

“Oh yeah?” He stepped closer to you, just a little bit. “Did you forget I saw you this morning? Making eyes at me?”

You scoffed, “Well, if you’re gonna put on a show…”

“And how’d you like it? The show?” He asked, stepping closer again. And you took a step back this time, and you two danced this dance until he almost had you cornered between two shelves.

You gasped dramatically, “Bucky barnes. Are you flirting with me?” Your back hit the shelf behind you. “Aren’t you, like, a hundred years old?”

Bucky laughed as pinned you to the bookshelf. His metal hand coming up to grab onto the wood, caging you between him and the shelf as he slowly slid his leg in between yours. “Yeah, I am. What about it? It didn’t stop you from spying on me.” He noted the way you spread your legs to make room for his. “I know you want me.” He said, pressing his leg up in between yours.

You gasped again. Then chuckled and said, “Don’t be inappropriate right in front of grandma’s portrait, you weirdo.” Then you gently hit him on the head with the tiny book you’d been holding.

Bucky frowned then looked around, searching for the portrait. And it was right behind him. A large portrait of an old woman in a gilded frame, staring down at the two of you sternly.

Sorry, grandma.

He grabbed you and easily pulled you away, pinning you to the next closest bookshelf he found. His leg sliding in between yours again. “Now that grandma’s not watching,” He said, making you laugh. Fuck. He’d do anything to keep you laughing and happy like that. “Wanna tell me where I can be inappropriate then? Want me to take you out?” He asked, then couldn’t resist leaning in to kiss your neck, discreetly inhaling your perfume like it was the only thing he’d ever wanted to do. Suddenly he wanted your scent everywhere. On his clothes. In his truck. On his bedsheets and pillows. “Is that what you’d like?” He asked, pulling away to look into your eyes. “A date? Where I spend the entire evening waiting and figuring out if you’d let me kiss you or not?”

“You won’t have to wait the entire evening.” You smirked at him. “I’d let you kiss me anytime.”

Fuck. His heart skipped a beat.

“Can I kiss you now?”

“Yes.” You leaned in, sliding your hands around his neck to pull him closer. Bucky’s brain stopped working for a second or two as you kissed him.

He melted into your kiss. His hands grabbed you at the waist to pull you closer as he deepened the kiss. Your hands slid into his hair and he held you tightly against him, pressed up against his firm body as his mouth moved perfectly against yours. His tongue slipped into your mouth, making you moan into the kiss as he slowly slipped his metal hand up your dress.

You gasped at his cold touch. His lips left yours momentarily to kiss along your jaw, and down your neck, nibbling on your skin and inhaling your addicting scent, making you sigh in pleasure as his hand found its way past your underwear.

“Can I touch you?” He mumbled into your ear, “Please say yes, baby. You’re killing me.”

You couldn’t help but giggle, then whispered, “Yeah, you can touch me.”

Bucky groaned as he moved your underwear aside and ran his knuckles along your wet slit, smearing your wetness around. He chuckled when he felt that you were just as wet and ready for him as he hoped you’d be.

“See? You do want me.”

You whined at the sound of his cocky voice. You couldn’t help but look down to see his hand moving gently against your body as he teased you, his metal hand sliding in and out from in between your legs, disappearing under your dress each time his fingers dove in to tease your clit. Fuck, just the sight of his hand sent pleasant shivers down your back. You also noticed the growing bulge in his pants. You bit your lip at the sight of it, then looked up at him. He was already staring at you. So you silently pleaded, begging for more.

Bucky wanted more too. He pushed his two metal fingers inside you with ease and felt your warm walls immediately welcoming him in. He held your stare as he curled his fingers inside of you, hitting all the right spots which made you weak in the knees. You bucked your hips against his hand, still staring into his eyes, and he chuckled. “Does that feel good, baby?”

You nodded, biting down on your lip to keep yourself from moaning. Because the store was empty, but anyone could walk in. They wouldn’t see you, but you didn’t want them to hear you either.

“Yeah? You want more?” Bucky asked, his fingers moving in and out of you perfectly. “Want me to taste you? Can I do that?” He mumbled and kissed down your neck, biting and licking your skin around your collar bones.

Meanwhile you lazily reached for him, palming him through his jeans and feeling his erection. You smirked to yourself as he grunted the moment you touched him. “All that for me?” You teased him.

Bucky couldn’t help but laugh into the crook of your neck. “Now who’s being inappropriate?”

You giggled, “You started this when–,”

The sound of the tiny bell above the entrance of your store ringing cut you off. You both froze then immediately pulled away from each other. You fixed your clothes quickly and gave Bucky a smirk before you went back to the front and greeted your customer.

Bucky couldn’t let himself be seen yet. Not until the raging hard on he had would calm down first. So he walked around, hiding behind bookshelves as he perused them. And once he was safe, he walked to the front and found you scanning some books before putting them in a bag for the customer – she was an old lady who lived near the lake. Bucky often saw her when he went for his frequent runs.

Bucky grabbed a random book and sat down at one of the many reading nooks. It hid him enough that he could stare at you leisurely, without being caught by Old Lake Lady. He could tell you felt his eyes on you, because you’d send quick glances his way even as you engaged in a conversation with the old lady about her cats and dogs.

Just minutes ago you were moaning in his ear with his fingers inside you, and here you were now, being nice and warm to a customer.

Bucky had to hide his smirk, at least until the lady was gone. Soon she’d wrapped up her stories, paid for her books, and left, leaving you two alone again. Bucky got up from the couch and approached you.

“Come over tonight,” He said. “I’ll make you dinner.”

He watched how you seemed surprised. Then rolled his eyes when you asked, “You can cook?”

He answered, proudly, “I’m over a hundred years old, you learn a thing or two when you’ve been alive that long.” A pause, then he added, “Plus recipe books help too.”

You laughed. “Okay, see you tonight then.”

“See you.”

Bucky left you with a wink.

—

When you got home that evening, you took over an hour to get ready for dinner. You caught yourself smiling a lot just thinking of Bucky and how he touched you earlier…

You sighed, impatient to see him again. But you didn’t want to seem too eager and show up at his house too early so you found something to keep you busy until it was a reasonable time to knock on his door. Plus, you wanted to bring him something nice so you ended up gathering flowers from your yard and made him a little bouquet.

It ended up being a pastel coloured bunch of flowers, pinks and lilacs with some white here and there. You decided it was cute enough for a first date. Was it even a date? Or was it just a casual dinner?

Before you could overthink yourself to death and find a way to get out of this, you grabbed a light cardigan and walked over to Bucky’s house.

Bucky answered after your very first knock. Almost too quickly.

You couldn’t help but tease him about it. “You were waiting by the door, weren’t you?”

“No.” He argued, “I’m just really quick to get the door. Don’t like to keep my guests waiting.”

“Sure,” You smirked as you walked into his home. Bucky shut the door behind you and turned to face you. “Here,” You handed him the bunch of flowers, “I picked them myself.”

You expected him to make some sassy comment, but he didn’t. “I’ve never been given flowers before.” He said, looking down at them. And you felt really proud. “Are they edible too?”

You laughed as you followed him further in. “No, they’re not. But they will bring some life and colour to your home.”

Bucky chuckled as he grabbed a vase and filled it with water to put the flowers in. “Are you saying my house looks lifeless and dark?”

“No,” You took a seat at the kitchen island table, and watched him as he placed the flower stems one by one into the vase. “I’m just saying it needs some colour. But I love the sombre and broody vibe you went for. It’s very… retired superhero-esque.”

And it was indeed. Dark floors, dark furniture. It was spacious and luxurious, with minimal furniture. You didn’t know if the minimalism was intentional or not. But either way, it suited Bucky. The large windows made up for the empty spaces. It allowed a lot of the outside in. Especially the rich, dark woods.

He gave you a playful glare before he grabbed two wine glasses and asked you, “You like red or white?”

“Red, please.”

He handed you a glass of red, clinked your glasses together then went back to the stove. “You’re welcome to snoop if you want.” He said, then heard you get off the stool at the island table and heard your footsteps walking around.

Bucky’s house was much closer to the woods than yours, and sometimes it felt like his house – much like him – preferred to blend in with the surroundings rather than stand out.

The kitchen was your favourite part so far. It was like a glass prism. No walls, but the woods hid it well from the other neighbours. And right now, as the sun set and the sky turned pinkish orange, it flooded the entire kitchen with those same colours.

Bucky let you snoop, and turned to the stove where he was concocting something that smelt divine. He glanced at you now and then, and noted the way you took in his home. The ground floor had an open concept look. So you could see the living room, the foyer, the large staircase – which led to the upper level where all the bedrooms and bathrooms were, the small conservatory, all could be seen from the kitchen.

He was rather proud of his home. But you weren’t saying anything yet. Did you not like it? Bucky wondered silently as he flipped the veggies he’d been grilling. “You like it?” He couldn’t help but ask.

“I do!”

Bucky looked up and found you in the middle of his dimly lit living room. You did a slow, mindless twirl as you took in all the random art he had mounted on his walls. Bucky was mesmerised. You, there, in that pretty dress – it messed with his head in the best way.

“What made you move here?”

Your question caught him off guard. He knew why he moved here, but he didn’t know if he could put it into words in a coherent way. But he did his best. Dinner was done, so he spoke as he plated everything.

“I had been thinking about retiring for years now.” He sighed. “I didn't wanna lose myself. Again. Or have to watch my friends die. Again.” He let out a sad chuckle. “You'd think I would be immune to losing people by now. But it hurts the same every time. Plus going on a mission and not knowing if everyone would make it back… It messes with your head.” He said. “So I decided to leave. I was worried it would make me seem like a coward. But then I realised, I shouldn’t care.”

He heard you coming back into the kitchen.

“Plus, it's hard to blend in when you’re me, you know?” He could see you in his periphery, getting closer to where he was. “After years of being who I was, and doing what I did, there’s not many places where I could go that would feel normal.”

Without saying a word, Bucky watched how you placed your glass down and came over to help him plate everything onto two dinner plates. He gave you a faint smile then continued, while the two of you moved around his kitchen gracefully. As if this was a daily thing.

“Then one day I decided to leave that life. But I still didn’t have a place to call home so I drove around, traveled and tried to find somewhere that was calm, and welcoming. Somewhere I could just be me, and not… what I was.” He paused, remembering the day he first came to this town. “I happened to be driving through here one day, and the weather got really bad. The rain was horrendous and the people I met at the pub told me it was dangerous to continue driving in a weather like that.” He chuckled at the memory, “And I told them, I’ve been out on missions in worse weather. Rain or sleet was nothing, I’ve been out during hurricanes and snowstorms.”

Your heart hurt for a moment, thinking about Bucky having to brave all sorts of storms.

Bucky continued, “Then, one of the old guys at the pub grabbed me by the shoulders and said ‘Well, you don’t have to be out in storms anymore’ and he offered me a place to stay for the night. And when I woke up the next day, I realised that no one cared about who I was or what I had done in the past. They were just kind and welcoming to me like I was a regular guy.” He looked up at you, smiled and said, “So I bought the land and the house here and stayed.”

You smiled back at him. “And that’s why you’re friends with all the old guys at the pub.”

“Yeah,” He added, smiling, “Although I am older than all of them.”

You laughed, and watched him as he placed the plates down. Once his hands were free, you grabbed one of them and squeezed it tight in your grip until he looked at you. His hand was warm in yours. And you decided that you liked holding his hand. You wanted to do it more often.

“You did the right thing by choosing your peace, Bucky.” You said, looking into his pretty eyes. “It's not selfish nor cowardly to want to keep yourself safe. To put yourself first. You helped save this world so many times. You deserve this break. I hope you know that.”

Bucky smiled and brought your intertwined hands up to his lips. Kissing your knuckles, he whispered, “Thank you.”

He looked so sincere and adorable, you almost pulled him in for a kiss right there and then. But instead you calmed yourself down and admired the beautiful man in front of you. His longish hair was nice and dry this time, and looked like he’d run his fingers through it many times. And he was wearing a white button up shirt too, something you just now noticed, with the sleeves rolled up till his elbows. The metal arm glistened in the golden light of the sunset.

Gods, he was beautiful. Who could ever be mean to this man?

To bring you both back to that playful mood you said, “Well, neighbour. I was promised dinner. And I’m kinda hungry.”

Bucky laughed and gently let go of your hand. He asked you if you wanted to dine in the conservatory, but you said the island table in the kitchen was fine. Plus, the view of the sky, the woods, and the mountains all at once was to die for.

“I think I’m in love with your house.” You said at some point during dinner, holding back moans because Bucky’s cooking was amazing.

He gave you a playful look as he sipped on his wine and replied, “Come visit anytime.”

“Maybe I will.”

“Maybe you should.”

You teased, “You just want me to bring you muffins and cookies, don’t you?”

Bucky laughed and said, “I’m having to work out twice as much ever since you started feeding me those sugary stuff. Gotta stay fit if I want you to keep looking at me like that.”

Your face felt hot when he said that. Okay, so maybe you were not being subtle when looking at him. Oh, god forbid a girl checks out her hot neighbour. You quickly changed the topic after that, not wanting him to know just how much his words and deep voice was affecting you.

You two talked about life in the small town, about the places you’d travelled to before moving here, Bucky made you laugh with his ridiculous stories about how people tend to come knocking on his door whenever they need help with moving stuff. Or how people in the neighbourhood just assumed he liked chopping wood so much they just pulled up in their own trucks to pick up some or they called him and asked him to deliver logs to their houses.

“Thankfully I have the truck,” He said, chuckling, “Otherwise I think I’d be seen carrying logs around on my shoulders for delivery.”

You giggled at the thought of him doing that. Then you realised, “I didn’t know you had a truck. I guess I’ve only ever seen you out on walks.”

He nodded, refilling your wine glass. “Yeah I don’t use it a lot though, I just drive up the mountains sometimes when I want to be alone. Plus the view from up there is insane.” Then he paused, thinking, and said, “I’ll take you up there, on a drive someday. If you want.”

“I’d love that.” You said, smiling from behind your wine glass.

–

After dinner you offered to help clean up, but Bucky politely refused. “Carry on snooping,” He said, “I’ll just load the dishwasher and come join you.” He refilled your wine glass one more time and sent you off.

You didn’t put up a fight, you wanted to see more of his home. So a short walk later, you found yourself in the large, circular conservatory. There were some couches about, a small dining table for four, and some plants and rugs. It was so cosy, it reminded you of your store. Minus the colours, because everything in here was dark green, or grey, or dark brown. But you didn’t mind it.

You admired Bucky’s backyard, which blended into the woods. You saw the chopping block where he chopped wood almost every morning. And you could see your house from here, part of it at least. Especially your bedroom window.

“That’s a pretty dress. I’m sorry I didn't say it earlier.” Bucky said as he walked into the conservatory as well, his own wine glass in hand.

And you were certain it wasn't just the wine that made your blood rush. You gave him a little twirl which made him chuckle. “Thanks,” You said, facing him once again. “I wore it just for you.” It was true. You had chosen the dark blue dress only because the moment you saw it in your closet, it reminded you of Bucky’s eyes.

“Yeah?” He held your stare as he made his way over to you, placing his glass down on the small dining table on the way. He stopped right in front of you, letting his eyes roam all over you before he said, “Will you take it off for me as well?”

The wine gave you manic confidence, so you grabbed him by the waist and pulled him into you. “Is that what you want?”

Bucky’s eyes were intense as he stared at you. You finished your wine and set your glass down.

“I do.” Bucky said.

You spoke in a cocky tone, “Then why do I have to do all the work?”

He chuckled, “Come here then.” He pinned you to the nearest surface, the cold glass door of the conservatory which led to the backyard. He knew it was locked so he didn’t have to worry. “Let’s finish what we started earlier, yeah?”

He leaned closer, chest pressing against yours leaving no space in between. He waited for a moment, silently asking if this was okay. And upon seeing you wanted this as much as he did, Bucky leaned in for a kiss. A proper one, a hungry one.

His rough facial hair scratched your skin, his teeth nibbled and bit your lips. His hands roaming all over your body before he slid the straps of your dress down your arms, letting your dress bunch around your waist. Your dress didn’t require a bra so you were half naked in front of him in no time.

He kissed you ravenously, pulling you closer. Pouring everything he felt into the kiss. Desire, warmth, longing, lust. He couldn’t get enough.

“Bucky…” You gasped against his lips, you couldn’t wait any longer, “I want you.” Breathing fast, you tried to pull him closer, but this time he wouldn’t budge.

“Turn around,” He mumbled softly, pulling away a little to give you room to turn. He’d thought he would take his time and maybe get up to his bedroom and make sweet love to you. But fuck, the sight of you in that pretty dress was driving him insane. Again. He couldn’t wait.

You turned, facing the glass door and waited. The sky above was yet to turn black completely. It was that pretty dark blue colour. And the stars were starting to show. And everything was perfect. You brought your hands up to your chest, not wanting to press your bare body to the cold glass.

But Bucky didn’t like that. He pressed against your back. Your bare skin against the cool fabric of his shirt. He grabbed your wrists in his metal hand and pinned them above your head, stretching your torso in a way that had you whining already, and he had barely touched you yet. He whispered into your ear, “Keep them there for me.” So gently, his deep voice made you tremble.

You nodded, then he shoved his warm hand in between your legs and touched you where you desperately wanted him to. Where you needed him since earlier today. You whined and trembled, your bare chest pressing against the cool glass when he slid a finger in, fucking you with it while he whispered into your ear, “You’re so wet for me. Have you been like that all throughout dinner? Hmm?” He cooed. “While you sat across from me, looking all sweet and nice, were you just dripping for me all along?”

Fuck. Who knew he had such a foul mouth?

“Bucky,” You whimpered, “Please.”

He chuckled, his finger moving in and out of you in a way that made you move your hips, demanding more but he wouldn’t give it to you yet. “Aww, baby. Poor you.” His deep voice made his chest rumble against your back. “I should punish you for not telling me about this little situation earlier.”

Your dress was hanging on to your body around your waist, Being half naked while he was still fully dressed made this even dirtier. You were moaning by now, thanking all the gods that Bucky didn’t have any other neighbours.

“Tell me.” He demanded, sliding another finger inside you and making your body squirm and grind against him. “How long have you been this wet, baby?”

“Oh damn you.” You were embarrassingly wet at this point, and the sounds your body made as he finger-fucked you were lewd. But you couldn’t get enough. “Ever since we were interrupted at the store earlier today.”

His lips brushed against the back of your neck as he spoke. “You’ve been thinking about me all day then? Huh? Have you been thinking about what could’ve happened if we weren’t interrupted earlier? About how I would’ve fucked you nice and hard against that bookshelf? Hmm?”

“Yes…” You whimpered as he kept fucking you with his fingers even as you came, trembling against him. His fingers slid in and out of you with ease now. “I thought about you, about us, all day.” You whispered quietly, your warm breath fogging up the cold glass in front of you.

He didn’t care that you came already. He wanted more. So he reached deeper inside you, curling his fingers just enough to make you mutter incoherent things.

“And what did you do? Did you touch yourself after I left? Or did you rush home and take care of it?” He asked, “Or did you wait till now?”

“Please…” You begged. “I waited, I promise.”

“Oh?” He chuckled, slowing down his movements purposely. “You waited, huh?” He playfully bit on your exposed shoulder.

“Yes…” You whined. “I did. Cause I wanted you to touch me and make me feel good. Please, Bucky, make it feel good.”

“Oh baby,” He whispered, kissing around your ear, along your jaw. “I’ve got you.

Bucky pulled away for a brief moment. You couldn’t see him, but you could hear him undoing his trousers. And moments later, he was rubbing the tip of his cock against your wet folds. You shivered in pleasure.

“Yes…” You panted.

“I’m gonna make it feel good, okay?” He mumbled into your ear as he pushed his cock into you, making you cry out loud as he stretched you out.

It had been a while since you got laid. So Bucky felt huge inside you. You moaned as his fingers found your clit again, rubbing it in sync with his thrusts. His metal hand left your wrists and came down to grab you by the waist, holding you against him as he sped up into you, fucking you just like how you hoped he would. Fast. Deep. Hungrily.

He dipped his head into the crook of your neck and licked, and bit on your skin as he fucked into you relentlessly, earning more and more moans out of you each time his cock stroked your walls. “You feel so fucking good, you know that? My pretty girl…”

You moaned quietly, shamelessly, your body slamming into the glass with each one of his thrusts, and fuck if it didn’t turn you on more.

“Tight little thing, aren’t you? Gripping me like you’re never gonna let go,” He chuckled in that cocky way you loved. “I’m right here, baby. I’ve got you now.” He moaned against your ear and the sound sent shivers down your back. “Whenever you want me to make you feel good, I’ll do it. You hear me? I’ll take care of you, don’t you worry.”

You nodded, your legs starting to shake as he quickened his pace, pounding into you mercilessly. His fingers still teasing your clit and making you lose your mind.

“Bucky–,” You choked on your words as you came undone, walls clenching around him, and a loud moan erupting from your mouth as he made you come hard. It was almost blinding.

His thrusts became irregular as he came right after you did, cock throbbing against your pulsating walls, moaning out loud when he felt your walls pulsating violently around him. “Fuck, baby,” He came while biting down on your shoulder.

You leaned against the glass door, limp and satiated. You had to blink a couple times to come back from that high. The glass was completely fogged up in front of your face as you pulled away to breathe deeply.

Bucky held you gently. Wrapping his arms around you, his cock still inside you, throbbing. “You okay?”

You giggled, leaning your head back to rest against his shoulder. “I’m okay.” You replied. “You?”

“Yeah. Perfect.” A pause, then he said. “I gotta buy some condoms if we’re gonna do this often. I wasn’t exactly planning on–,” He hesitated. “You know…”

You giggled again. “Yeah I know. Me neither.”

Then you both laughed and Bucky helped you clean up as best he could before he walked you back to your house. You kissed him goodnight, and he said he hoped to see you soon. You exchanged numbers and then pulled him in for another kiss before he left.

—

The following day Bucky dropped by the store and saw that it was packed. Of course, you’d told him over text that Fridays tend to get a little busy. Teens come over to get homework done after school. Some people came to get books for the weekend. Others just came to talk to you and ask about your week. The younger kids dropped by after school for snacks because they knew they’d miss it given you didn’t open during weekends.

So Bucky only had a minute or two to say hi and give you a gentle kiss on the cheek.

“Can I see you tonight? If you don’t have plans?” He asked.

You seemed sad when you replied, “I’m pet-sitting for someone tonight. And I’m going over to a friend's house for dinner on Saturday night. Can we meet on Sunday?”

He grumpily agreed. Because what did you mean he had to wait for two nights to see you again?

He tossed and turned in bed, unable to sleep on Friday night. So he ended up texting you:

Saturday night was no different. He couldn’t sleep. But he didn’t want to text you again and seem desperate. Even though he was very much desperate. And he was pleasantly surprised when he received a text from you:

Needless to say, when you showed up at his house in the morning, all other plans went out the window because after breakfast, the two of you spent almost the whole day in Bucky’s bedroom.

—

And so, weeks passed.

You and Bucky got more and more involved in each other’s lives. Taking turns sleeping over at each other’s house. You weren’t putting a label on it. Yet. But it was solid, whatever you two had. And it was comforting and warm. Knowing you had someone else to rely on, a shoulder to lean on after a long day, knowing you could just walk over to the house next door whenever you wanted company was nice.

Bucky came over to yours a lot. Randomly. Sometimes he’d come over and help you with your garden, or keep you company as you fed the birds and the wild rabbits, or helped you whenever you made dinner for the two of you. It was… peaceful, the budding romance.

You began joining Bucky on his daily evening walks. Usually, he’d come by your store at around closing time, and he’d wait till you closed and locked the place, then you would both take the long way home. People in the neighbourhood began noticing, and when the older ladies would visit your store they’d tease you about it, singing all sorts of praises about how much of a good guy Bucky was, and how helpful.

Bucky mentioned that the old guys at the pub would tease him about it too. Telling him how lucky he was that he found such a sweet, kind, and pretty girl.

“I am, you know?” He said to you one night, over the phone.

“What?” You asked, holding the phone between your shoulder and your ear as you were tidying up your study room, finally deciding to put it to use. You wanted to turn it into your at home library. Make it nice and cosy like those reading nooks you’d set up at the store.

“Lucky,” He answered. “To have you.”

His reply made you pause in the middle of your slightly messy study room.

Bucky continued, “When I decided to leave everything and move here, I knew the people around here were friendly and kind. But I had given up all hope I had of finding, you know, my person.”

You smiled to yourself, feeling a little sad thinking about Bucky and how he thought he’d have to spend the rest of his days all alone here. You wanted to tell him you felt the same. You wanted to tell him that you’d given up on dating as well, after uni. You liked the people in this town, and you’d been on a few dates since you moved here. But you were always so busy taking care of your grandmother that you could never quite commit. And then after she passed you were not emotionally stable, especially given your family didn’t even reach out to ask you how you were doing and how you were dealing with everything. So you kind of just… gave up as well.

And then you met Bucky.

“And then I met you.” His voice was steady, firm as he repeated your thoughts.

“Oh Buck,” You sighed. “Why don’t you come over? You’ve got me all emotional now.”

Bucky chuckled. “You just want me to come over so we can fuck, don’t you?”

You laughed. “No,” You argued, “I actually need you for something.” You said, looking around trying to find something, an excuse to use to you can get him to come over. You didn’t know what it was, but the vulnerability in his tone made you want to wrap your arms around him and keep him safe from the rest of the world. And now, you just needed to see him. Plus, you didn’t want him to be alone. Not after what he just told you. Besides, you had to tell him you felt the same and you didn’t wanna do that over the phone. “I have a huge bookshelf I need to move. Can you come help?” You lied. The bookshelf was perfect where it was.

Bucky let out a dramatic sigh, “Fine. I knew it, you just want me around because I’m handy.”

You laughed as you hung up the phone.

Less than a minute later, Bucky was up in your study, lugging around your bookshelf as you instructed him where to place it. And after a few more minutes of deciding, you settled on having the bookshelf exactly where it initially was.

Bucky gave you a confused look that had you giggling as he placed the shelf back down to where it was. “Well this was a waste of time.” He mumbled.

“Maybe,” You teased, sitting down on the edge of the nearby desk. “Or maybe I just wanted to see you flexing those muscles.” You were only partially lying. Because he did look good in that extra tight black t-shirt. His silver chain caught the light the same way his metal arm did. “Come here.” You extended out your arms for him to walk into.

And he did, sighing dramatically and mumbling something about how he was right about you only wanting him for his incredibly amazing body. But he did walk into your arms. And smiled down at you as you wrapped your arms around him.

“You know, I didn’t ask you to come here for the bookshelf.”

He smirked, “I know.” A pause, then he said, “Did what I said earlier scare you? Did you call me here to dump me?” He asked, raising his eyebrow and glaring at you in that playful manner of his.

You laughed. “I could never dump you.” You leaned forward and pressed your forehead to his chest, inhaling his masculine scent and said, “I wanted to tell you that I had given up as well. But, things have changed ever since I met you too.” You finally looked up and met his eyes. Bucky’s ocean blue ones were focused on you as you finally confessed, “And I really like you, Bucky.”

His face softened as he looked down at you. Then he lowered his face, placing his palms on the surface of the desk till he was face to face with you. And he said, “I really like you too.” He leaned in for a sweet, deep kiss.

You slid your fingers into his hair and he smiled into the kiss when he felt you tugging on his hair. He grabbed you by the thighs and pulled you closer as he stepped in between your legs.

Bucky pulled away just a little, keeping his lips pressed against the side of your mouth as he said, “But you know, as much as I like you, I can’t be going around doing manual labour for free.” His hands massaged your thighs in a way that had you whimpering for him already. “So, what will you give me?”

You smiled, running your hands all over his muscular shoulders and chest. “I made fresh cookies this morning.”

He chuckled. “Not enough.” He pulled away to look at you, “Nowhere near enough.”

“Well,” You held his stare and asked, “What do you want then?” You gently reached down, wrapped your fingers around his wrist and guided it in between your legs. “You want that?”

“Yeah.” Bucky immediately cupped your clothed core. Possessively.

“You can have that.” You said, breathlessly.

He groaned. “You’re gonna be the death of me, baby.” He shook his head, “Take all that off then, let me see what you’re offering.”

You smirked, holding his stare as you lifted your dress up and removed your underwear before sitting on the edge of the desk again, spreading your legs so he could just look at you down there.

Bucky placed his hands on your thighs again, spread them further apart, and took his time inspecting your wet folds. He mindlessly dragged a metal finger up and down your slit, making you shiver and moan as he touched you but barely.

His eyes trailed up to your tits, and his other hand reached up to pinch a clothed nipple, making you yelp. “Ow!” You frowned at him.

“What?” He chuckled, “You’re all mine. I’m allowed to play with you.”

“That hurt.”

He smirked. “I know it did.” He held your stare as he got down on his knees so his mouth was mere inches away from your clit. “Now, keep your legs spread for me. Just like this. Open for me. Okay?”

You nodded, looking down in between your legs as he leaned in and pressed his mouth shamelessly to your wetness.

His tongue, his lips, the gentle suction of his warm mouth – it was all too much, too good. He moved his head side to side, his coarse stubble brushing against your soft inner thighs. You whined and trembled, trying to keep your voice down as he made you lose your mind by eating you out like a starved man.

“All mine, yeah?” He whispered, looking up at you with his mouth just barely hovering above your clit. “My girl.” He smiled, then got back to it, the lower half of his face was completely submerged in your wet cunt.

Your fingers slid into his hair again, gently guiding him as he made it feel so good it almost hurt.

You came with a yelp and a moan, riding his face and tugging on his hair.

Bucky smiled as he pulled away and stood back up. “You taste so good, baby. Thank you.”

You couldn’t take your eyes off his damp lips. “I should be thanking you.” You said quietly.

“No,” He argued, licking his lips then added, “That was selfishly all for me.”

You chuckled, then pulled him in for a kiss.

How did you get so lucky?

—

Eventually, Bucky ended up taking you up the mountains in his truck. His large, all black Ford Raptor was nice and clean, it smelled like new leather and it was comfortable too.

While driving up, Bucky kept his hand on your thigh, and you couldn’t help but feel giddy each time you looked down to see him mindlessly caressing your thigh. Then you’d look up and find him driving with just one hand, and that simple act was so hot for no reason.

Easy, tiger.

You managed to keep your hands to yourself the entire drive up.

Bucky came to a stop at a well-known spot. People often drove here to look at the view. And it was so worth it. You could see everything from here. The woods, the lake, the houses and the lights coming on in the streets given that the sun was starting to set now. You could spot your house and Bucky’s as well.

The woods up here were extra dense so it was darker than everywhere else, and the sky was quickly changing colours. From pink to orange, to a darker blue right before your eyes. But none of it compared to the man beside you who was rambling about how nice it was that you baked muffins especially for this little date.

“I’m dying to have some of–,”

You cut him off by grabbing his face and kissing him. Bucky was surprised but quickly went along, kissing you back with almost just as much hunger. “Make some room for me.” You mumbled in between kisses. “I hope you have condoms in your truck. Please say you do.”

Bucky understood immediately, and pushed his seat back just enough to allow you to move from the passenger side to his lap, straddling him. He smiled into the kiss as he slowly trailed his hands downwards till they rested at the curve of your butt. “I did bring some.”

“Perfect.” You could feel his warmth on your skin even through the material of the skirt you’d chosen to wear for this date, and it made your heart race even more. “I need you so badly. Can I have you? Please?” You asked, placing your forehead against his.

Bucky pulled you even closer, kissing down your chin as he said, “You can have whatever you want, baby.”

You sighed in bliss as he kissed down your neck, playfully biting and nibbling on your skin.

Bucky pulled away to look at you, “By the way, you’re not subtle. I saw you squirming in your seat the whole way here.” He whispered in that cocky tone of his, one of his hands slipping under your shirt, gently caressing your skin. “You know when you want me you can just ask, right? You don’t have to wait. I will pull over for a quickie anytime.”

You chuckled, nuzzling his cheek as you said, “I don’t wanna seem like all I think about when I’m with you is how good you fuck me.”

“Fuck.” He groaned, gripping your thighs tighter. “Who knew such a sweet girl had such a filthy mouth, huh?”

You leaned in to kiss him again, and both of his hands found their way under your shirt, pulling at the hem. You giggled into the kiss before pulling away to get rid of your top. You threw it somewhere in the backseat before leaning in to kiss Bucky again. Your hands slid into his hair, his hands inched up your back to undo the clasp of your bra. You quickly got rid of that as well, baring your breasts to him.

He wasted no time before leaning in and taking one of your nipples into his warm mouth. He moaned, mouth wrapped around one of your tits as he sucked gently. Your back arched, giggling and gasping as he teased you. You found your hips moving against his, grinding against him.

You gasped as he sucked hungrily on your skin, moving up to your collar bones, down to your breasts and back up. Bucky chuckled when you tugged on his hair, getting more and more impatient and needy. Oh, he loved you in moods like these.

“Stop fucking teasing me.” You whispered, grounding your hips against his jeans.

He smirked, looking down to where your skirt had inched up your legs, revealing your thighs even more, “Yeah? Well, you’re my girl. I’ll do whatever I want with you.” He leaned in for a proper kiss. “To you. I’ll tease you for hours if I want to.”

You playfully bit his lip, making him hiss in pain before he chuckled against your mouth. “Stop wasting time please, I want to fuck you.”

He laughed, pushing his face against your bare chest and kissing the soft skin between your breasts. “You’ve turned into a little monster, you know that?

You let out a little laugh, “Oh shut up. You made me like this.”

Bucky raised his eyebrows at you, smirking like the cocky little shit he was. “I know.”

You grabbed him by the chin and said, “No more teasing.”

“Yes, ma’am.” He smiled, leaning in to kiss your neck again. “You smell so fucking good. I could just eat you up.” He whispered against your skin as his hands slipped under your skirt, his thumbs caressing your inner thighs – making you gasp and whimper quietly as his fingers teased you in between your legs through your underwear. “Too bad we don’t have enough room for me to taste you right now. Later though, okay? When we get home.”

“Bucky…” You whined as he leaned down to suck on your tits again, more greedy than earlier as he toyed with your wet folds and clit at the same time

Your impatient hands were at the zipper of his pants in no time.

He finally looked up and gave you a lazy smile, eyes hooded with lust. “Go on, baby. Take it out, it’s all yours.” His voice was suddenly deeper than earlier. Bucky reached for the condom and handed it to you. He fucking loved how you tore it open and put it on him each time. “Good job, baby.” He said, once you were done.

His voice made you shiver. And only then did you realise that there was a light drizzle outside, which made the air even colder, making you crave his body heat even more. Making this even hotter.

You lifted off of his lap at the same time as you both lowered his pants and underwear to free his erected cock. Bucky groaned impatiently as he grabbed your hips, pulled your thin underwear to the side and aligned his cock to your entrance before gently lowering you down on him.

You moaned as you slid down his thick cock, his stare burning on your face as he thrust up into you, all the way in. “Fuck,” He swore, then leaned in to give you a wet, messy kiss. “You okay, baby? You need a moment?”

You shook your head, no you didn’t need a moment. What you needed was more of him. “Just… move, please, you feel so good.” You whispered, kissing down his rough cheek as he obeyed, and moved, knowing exactly how you liked it.

You whined as he grabbed your hips and guided you up and down his cock, stretching you out in the process. You held onto his shoulders as you rode his cock, bouncing on it while you moaned for him, bending a little forward so as to not hit the roof of the truck too hard.

“Fuck…,” You felt him fill you up nicely each time, the pressure in between your legs getting hotter and hotter. “You feel so fucking good.”

Bucky threw his head back against the headrest, watching you with lust-drunk eyes. He let out a strained moan, as he thrust into you over and over again, while also bringing you down on his cock each time with enough force to make your tits bounce. “You’re fucking beautiful. Can’t believe you’re all mine.”

“All yours.” You said, unable to hold back your moans when he placed his thumb over your clit and rubbed it gently, in time with his thrusts. You forced yourself to look into his eyes, and the feral look in them only made you clench harder around him.

You bit your lower lip as he thrust his hips up harder into you, your eyes rolled back and you moaned out his name as you came so close to coming undone for him. “Bucky…”

“You’re gonna come for me?” He asked, “You’re gonna come all over my cock, huh?”

You answered after a loud whimper, “Yes… please, can I come?”

He cupped your cheek and traced your mouth with his thumb, “Go on, baby. Come all over my cock. Come for me…” Your walls clenched violently around his cock. You came hard, whimpering and crying for him and gasping for breath.

Bucky came right after you, his warm load spilling in the condom as he wrapped his arms around you and held you like you were the most precious thing in the world. Like he hadn’t just fucked you like an animal.

You caught your breath, wrapped in Bucky’s arms. Your head rested on his shoulder as you tried to calm your racing heart. “You’re right,” You said, while catching your breath, “This feels like a real date.”

He laughed and kissed you on the forehead.

And there you stayed, in his arms as you two watched the sun set and watched how the town lit up.

—

More time passed. Bucky officially asked you to be his girlfriend by showing up at the store early one morning, after you two had spent the weekend apart yet again. And he came with flowers, a look on his face which stated that he hadn’t slept well.

“Oh Buck…” You pulled him into your arms the moment you saw those sleepy, tired eyes. “What happened to you?”

He mumbled, his voice low and tired as well. “Can’t sleep when you’re not there.”

“Aww, baby.” You kissed his gorgeous face, then noticed the flowers in his hand. “For me?”

He nodded, handing them to you. “Please let me be your boyfriend. I can’t do this no label thing anymore. I won’t tie you down or anything, but I…” He struggled to find the right words, “I just wanna be able to sleep knowing you’ll come back to me again each time you leave, or spend the weekend away.”

You felt like tearing up and laughing at the same time. So you accepted the flowers and kissed him instead. “I’ll always come back to you.” You promised. “And yes, you can be my boyfriend.” You kissed him again. “It’s a good thing I’m not close to my parents anymore. How would I explain having a century-old boyfriend?”

He didn’t find that funny, so he chased you around the store until he finally cornered you against one of the shelves – well away from your grandma’s portrait – and kissed you until you were breathless.

—

One evening, Bucky got a call. It was you.

So he answered with a smile. “Hi baby. What is it this time?” He teased. “You need me to move another piece of furniture? Or are you calling again to ask if you can come watch me run shirtless around the lake? If so, I’m sorry to disappoint you but I’m not planning on going for a run today.”

He frowned when all he heard was silence on your side. Silence, and a shaky breath.

“Baby?”

“Uh, Buck?” That shaky, scared tone of your voice wiped the smile right off his face.

“What is it?” He asked, already panicking and looking for the keys of his truck, in case he needed to come get you from somewhere. You had told him you’d be out running errands earlier. “Where are you? What is it? Are you okay?”

His heart raced thinking about all the times he’d hear silence on the comms when he was out on missions. The silence was like all those terrible memories come back, flooding his brain again. And he couldn’t help but imagine the worst possible scenarios.

His voice was close to cracking as he asked, in a panicked tone, “Baby, please tell me you’re okay.”

He heard a sniffle, and his heart almost dropped. You were not okay. His blood rushed, his heart beat faster than normal.

“Bucky,” Your voice sounded broken, “This is so stupid,” You sounded disappointed in yourself. “I, um, I came deeper into the woods to get those purple edible flowers but um, I think I’m lost?”

His heart sank. His blood froze. Fuck.

Another sniffle. Your voice cracked as you spoke, “I’ve been walking around in circles and I can’t…” Another shaky exhale, “I can’t get out. It’s been hours. It’s starting to get really dark, Bucky. Please–,” The call ended abruptly.

When he tried calling you back, he couldn’t reach you. Something to do with network issues.

Bucky felt like his world was crumbling down all over again. Like he was gonna lose another person dear to him. For a moment, he remained frozen in the middle of his house. His mind taking him back to those brutal days of missions and death and darkness he thought he’d walked away from.

No, no, no.

This wasn’t a mission. He reminded himself. He would get you back, he would get you back safe and sound.

“Just please be okay, baby. Please.” He whispered under his breath as he took off running, through his backyard and into the woods. He ran in the direction of where he knew you had the habit of plucking those flowers. He didn’t care that it was starting to drizzle and all he was wearing was a t-shirt.

It was starting to get dark, and he only had a few hours to get to you before it got completely dark out. Fuck, he didn’t even bring a light with him.

“I’m coming, baby.” He mumbled under his breath as he ran deeper into the woods. “Don’t you worry.”

He called out your name multiple times while he ran, stopping every few minutes to listen if you answered his calls. Or if he could hear anything at all.

Come on, baby. Where are you? Where are you? Where are you?

At one point, he was deep enough that when he stopped to listen, he could hear animals howling, and owls screeching.

Fuck. This is a fucking horror movie.

He couldn’t help but think about all those times he ran through woods to find and help his friends and teammates, worried sick during the search and not knowing what state he’d find them in.

Please, baby. Please, be okay. I can’t lose you. I can’t lose you. I can’t lose you. Not like this. Not now. I want more time. Please, please, please.

He called out your name again. And again. Louder each time, his throat burning.

Finally, he stopped near a stream just to recalibrate. His panicked brain only showed him disturbing images of you hurt, or attacked by an animal, or worse–

Then he saw it. A single purple flower floating down the stream. Followed by a lot more. It was the only thing keeping him sane at the moment. He frowned, wondering if he was seeing things or if it was truly those damned flowers you liked to pluck for your baking.

He reached for one and grabbed it, clutching it in his hand he took a deep breath. Okay, if he followed the stream maybe he’d get to where you are, he reasoned. So that’s what he did. He ran up the stream, careful not to slip and fall.

The woods were getting darker and darker, but he was used to navigating in the dark. It wasn’t easy, but he was better at it than regular humans.

So Bucky ran, for what felt like forever, until he saw a spot of red on top of a fallen tree trunk.

He stopped running when he saw you, his chest burning with how fast he’d been running. And for how long. Must be about an hour or two by now. But there you were, sitting on a log, with your red coat around you and your hood on. Fuck, you were probably freezing too.

As he got closer he noticed your body shaking with quiet sobs, your boots muddy and your basket of fucking flowers on the ground.

“There you are.” He said, breathlessly. “Baby?”

Relief and exhaustion. A million thoughts and feelings coursing through him, he felt like he was going to explode. The only thing that felt like it tethered him to earth was the feeling of your body colliding into his chest as you ran into his arms. So hard that it almost knocked him off his balance.

“Bucky!” You sobbed.

He was still breathing faster than he’d ever had. “I’ve got you, baby. I’ve got you. Are you hurt?” He pulled away to look at you, “Look at me! Are you hurt?”

How many times had he found his friends unconscious? Or with broken limbs? Or with bullet holes all over their bodies? For a moment, he was back in that life. That life filled with tragedy and pain.

“No,” You spoke, teary eyed and voice shaking with panic and relief all at once. “My phone ran out of battery and–,” You let out a breath. “I was scared you wouldn’t find me.”

He pulled you into his arms again, hugging you tighter than earlier, “Why wouldn’t I find you? I was worried sick. I thought–,” He stopped talking. Fuck. He needed to get a grip and calm those racing thoughts.

A strange anger washed over him. Mainly because he was disappointed. Why hadn’t he gone out with you? You would’ve never gotten lost if he was with you. Fuck, what other dangers would you find yourself in due to his carelessness? What if next time–

He blinked a couple of times and just said, “Come on, let’s go.”

You noted the change in his tone and demeanor, but you didn’t say anything. You just followed him, wiping your tears and cursing the flowers in your basket.

“I didn’t even realise I’d gotten this deep.” You spoke, looking ahead at Bucky’s back while he walked ahead and led the way.

He didn’t say anything.

“I only realised I went off my regular path when I started hearing all the animals.” You spoke, still staring at Bucky’s back. “Why aren’t you saying anything?” You asked softly.

You got only silence from him. You could tell his mind was racing. But you didn’t understand the silent treatment.

“Bucky?” You called out.

He didn’t reply.

“Say something.” You demanded.

He stopped. And you nearly bumped into his back. When Bucky turned around to face you, he seemed different. Still. So still like he wasn’t breathing. It felt like he was a statue. The look in his eyes was blank. He was looking at you, but it felt like he was looking through you.

It scared you how quiet he was. “Bucky?”

“I thought I was gonna find you broken and maimed.” He finally said. “Do you know how many times I’ve had to go out and search places. Trying to find my teammates, or friends. Desperate to find them, or even a–,” He swallowed. “Or even a part of them.”

You were quiet this time. And there was only silence, except for the light rain hitting the leaves around you.

“I’m sorry.” You finally said. “Look, I was just scared when I called you. There’s nothing around here that could hurt me like that.”

“Don’t be sorry.” He said. His voice was bitter. He finally looked at you, dead in the eyes and said, “Be smart. I ran for hours to get to you. I thought I’d find you dead. Why would you even get this far into the woods?” He finally snapped out of the trance he was in, getting heated with emotions now. “We don’t even know what lives in these woods! Nobody does!”

You understood where he was coming from. But you didn’t appreciate the tone. “Why are you being mean to me? You’re acting like I chose to get lost. I didn’t mean to, Buck!” You got angry too. “I’m sorry, okay? I’m sorry for ruining your fucking evening.” You sassed. “I won’t do it again.”

“Damn right you won’t!” He raised his voice just as much as you did. “I’m not letting you into these woods alone ever again!”

“You don’t own me! I’ll go wherever I want!” Your mind couldn’t think properly. You were exhausted and still in panic mode. “I’ll even run away from you if I want to!”

A second of silence as he processed your angry words. Then, “Fine!” He hissed. “Don't call me crying to come rescue you then next time you get lost doing what you want!”

As much as you were angry at him, your lips trembled at the sound of his tone. “If I had someone else, literally anyone else I could rely on, I would've never called you in the first place.” You stated. Then, despite not wanting to, you teared up again. Your voice cracking as you said, “But I have no one.”

“I have no one either!” Bucky said, “Don’t you see that? I was– I was scared I was gonna lose you too.” He sounded tired, and disappointed. “I fucking love you, and it kills me that you could be so easily taken from me! You don’t think that scares me to death every single fucking day?!”

You couldn’t handle it. The panic and pain in his voice, the way Bucky looked heartbroken, the way he looked like he was reliving painful memories and the way you couldn’t do anything about it, the multitude of emotions running through your head at the sound of his confession…

You couldn’t bear the shattered look on his face. So you took off running. In the other direction.

Behind you, you could hear Bucky screaming, “Baby, for fuck’s sake!”

But you didn’t stop. You kept running, ditching the basket and wiping your tears.

“Get back here!”

You could hear Bucky’s calls, but you didn’t answer. You didn’t know what to do. No one had ever made you feel that many emotions all at once ever again. Fuck, even dealing with your emotionally unavailable family was easier than this. Bucky was like an avalanche. Inescapable. Fierce. Passionate. And he destroyed all of your fears and your worries. He was so… colossal. He took over your life completely lately. And it messed with your head. Disorienting, but in the best ways.

“Go away!” You sobbed. You were completely drenched at this point, the rain getting heavier and heavier, running for your life like a madwoman. Trying to get away from Bucky like he wasn’t the only person you ever wanted to run to for the rest of your life.

You heard his footsteps, running, chasing and closer to you than earlier.

You managed to run faster, finally able to put some distance between you two… only to trip on a fallen branch. You cursed before getting up, now with leaves and dirt sticking to you.

You heard him. He was closer. Closer. “Baby, please.” He begged, his voice getting louder.

You ran faster. Hoping to be able to somehow lose him and make your way back out of the woods somehow, and hide. Why? You didn’t know.

But you couldn’t do that because right when you were about to make a sharp turn, Bucky grabbed you by the elbow and tackled you to the ground. Luckily you both fell on a soft, wet patch of moss rather than rocks or something.

“Don’t run from me. I just found you.” He growled, straddling your squirming body and pinning your hands above your head. “What the hell did I say that made you run, huh? Am I not allowed to care for you?”

You were still breathless. “You piss me off, Bucky!” You answered, heart racing.

“Do I now?” He sounded cocky again. Far away from that strange trance he was in earlier, haunted by his past memories.

Your body was warm because of how fast your heart was pumping blood but the rain falling from above was cold, so cold. The contrast was somehow maddening. Like Bucky.

“Yes! And you are so mean!” You squirmed, trying to get free.

“Stop moving!” He hissed. “I’m allowed to care, you hear me?”

“You’re not allowed to be mad over something I had no control over.” You argued.

“Yes I fucking am! I’m fucking allowed to be mad where my girl’s safety is concerned.”

That shut you up. Bucky’s smirk sent a chill down your spine.

“That’s not why you ran, is it?” He leaned down, his face hovering above yours. The damp strands of his hair tickling your face. “Is it because of what I said? About how I love you? Did you want a more romantic confession? Hmm? A cute little picnic? More flowers?” He taunted, his voice doing things to you that resulted in you feeling your arousal drip out of you. “Well that’s what I had in mind for tonight, you know? I was waiting for you at home, I was gonna make you your favourite dinner, and spout some fucking poetry to let you know how I feel but no.” He tightened his grip on your wrists. “You just had to run into these damn woods and get lost, didn’t you?”

A tear fell down your face, disappearing into the moss under you. Fuck. You loved Bucky so much it physically hurt.

“What is it, baby?” His voice was colder than the rain, “Did I scare you with that? Huh?”

You sniffled. Closing your eyes for a moment, you took in a deep breath, but he was so close that you inhaled his scent as well. His cologne and his sweat was a heady mix, paired with the scent of the rain and your surroundings. You didn’t even know why you were crying.

Bucky shut you up again with a kiss. A punishing, deep kiss. His hands let go of your wrists, coming down to grab your red coat at the neckline, ripping it open. You heard the buttons go flying around, then he grabbed the dress you were wearing under the coat, again at the neckline, and easily tore it off your body, baring your breasts to him since you hadn’t bothered to wear a bra to come to the woods.

Bucky pulled away from the kiss, looking down at you. Above him, the sky was a darker shade of blue. His eyes demanded a silent question. He would back off immediately if you asked him to.

But you didn’t.

So he held your stare as he leaned down to take one of your breasts in his mouth, sucking and biting and alternating between the two of them.

You gasped and moaned and squirmed under him. The tension from earlier forgotten for now. Drops of water constantly dripped on the two of you, thankfully the pine trees took the brunt of the now heavy rain. But you could hear it, the sound of the rain falling. The grunts and groans coming from Bucky’s mouth, the sound of your moaning, the chill in the air. It was all too much.

Bucky’s mouth moved from your breasts and kissed down your drenched torso, sucking the rain off your skin until he reached your inner thighs where he parted your legs and settled in between them. He slid your underwear to the side, and you moaned shamelessly when you felt his warm, wet tongue lick down your folds.

His tongue slipped past your folds and teased your entrance, occasionally flicking your throbbing clit mercilessly until you screamed his name. Your hands immediately gripped his hair and tugged gently at his wet hair.

Your torn clothes were getting soiled but you didn’t care. Neither did he.

He licked and sucked relentlessly, “You taste so fucking good…” He whispered as he ate you out until you whined, throwing your head back and moaning at how good he felt. His warm mouth pressed against your most intimate part, his tongue stroking you.

He growled when your hips instinctively bucked against his mouth. You whined as the sounds he made reverberated through your entire body, causing goosebumps to erupt all over your body.

“What is it? You want more?” He taunted. “Thought you were mad at me just now. Don’t I piss you off anymore?”

You felt tingles shooting through you as he teased you incessantly. Even in the darkness, you could sense that his piercing eyes were wild and fierce, staring up at you from in between your legs.

“Oh damn you.” You hissed, your heart overflowing with all the love you had for him.

“You’re all mine…” he whispered, thrusting his tongue deeper into you. You moaned and whimpered, your body getting warmer and warmer with each touch of his tongue. “You hear me? All mine.” He said.

“Please, Buck…” You felt your walls tighten around nothing, and you knew you were close. You could only moan and whimper as he kept licking deeper into you, your back arching off the cold ground. You felt him quicken his pace and you felt the pressure building up in between your hips until you couldn’t handle it anymore, and you came undone all over his lips, moaning and whimpering. Your naked body drenched in the rain.

Bucky tore your underwear off, he’d never had to use such brute strength before, but he did now. And it only made you throb and want him more. His metal hand found itself around your throat as he parted your legs and pushed his cock into you without wasting a second, stretching you out.

Condoms be damned. You both needed this, you thought.

It felt so raw, primal, and dirty, being fucked on the forest floor by a man like Bucky. Broad shoulders, metal arm, hair damp and messy. His t-shirt and jeans sticking to him like a second skin while you were naked under him.

“Sure you didn’t think you could run and hide from me, baby, did you? Or maybe you secretly did want to be fucked like this? Hmm?” He questioned, knowing you weren’t in a headspace to answer him given his hand was around your throat and his cock buried so deep inside of you – he knew your brain was a foggy mess. “My pretty girl. You’re so easily affected by a raised voice, huh? You couldn’t handle it? I spoil you too much, don’t I? You’re so fucking soft, look at you.” He scoffed, “Crying and throwing a tantrum the moment I raise my voice at you.”

But you couldn’t argue. All you could so was whine and moan as he began fucking into you hard and fast. There was nothing gentle about it. He was wild like his surroundings, and passionate, animalistic, fucking you like there’s no tomorrow. And you enjoyed every bit of it.

He tightened his grip around your throat as he sped up into you, leaning down and growling right in your ear and telling you that you belonged to him. “All mine.”

The cold didn’t matter now that his warm, though damp and clothed, body was pressing down on you. Something about you being completely naked while he was still dressed made the moment all the more raw and dirty.

“All yours.” You managed to choke out.

You were a moaning mess under him, your hands finding their way into his hair as he fucked you nice and hard. It was all overwhelming, his voice, his weight on top of you, his cock thrusting in and out of you repeatedly…

He released your throat and placed his hand on your abdomen, his metal hand pressing down on your front so he can feel himself inside you with each thrust. He stared into your eyes while he sped up into you again. “There I am. You feel that? That’s me fucking my girl.” He said, thrusting into your extra hard to prove his point. He smirked when your body squirmed under him. “What did you say earlier? That you’d run from me if you wanted to?” He boasted, “Try running now, baby.”

All you could do was moan, clenching your eyes shut as you felt like you were losing your mind under him.

“Look at me, hey, hey!” He tapped your cheek gently to get you to open your eyes. “Look at me,” His tone was gentle now. “Are you gonna come frolicking around here alone again? Huh? Are you?”

You shook your head, unable to speak coherently.

“Answer me. Use your words, come on.” He insisted. “You were so bratty earlier, what happened, huh? Use your words baby, come on tell me. Are you?”

“No, please. I won’t. I promise.”

“Good girl. Now come for me.”

You cried out, feeling him speed up into you. “Bucky, I–,”

“Shh, baby.” He sounded much calmer now. “I’ve got you, don’t worry. I’m right here.” He mumbled into your ear. “Your man’s here, I've got you. Just let go and come for me, that’s it. Just come.”

He pressed his lips to yours as he made you come first, his mouth swallowing your moans as you orgasmed before he pulled out and came all over your inner thighs.

You both caught your breaths. Bucky pressed his forehead to yours. “I love you.” He whispered. Over and over again. It was pouring now. The rain washing over you both, taking away the tension with it.

“You’re all I have, Buck.” You confessed, breathlessly. “And I love you. So much. And when you got angry earlier… I’ve never seen that side of you before. It scared me. You’re all I have and you were mad at me. I didn’t know what else to do.”

Bucky sighed, leaning in to press his forehead down against yours. “I’m sorry, baby. I’m sorry.” He sounded genuine. “You scared me too. I thought– I didn’t mean to be angry at you. I just– that was wrong of me. I’m sorry.”

“I know.”

“I fucking love you.”

“I love you too.” You sniffled.

Bucky pulled away to look down at you. You could see it well, but you could’ve sworn his eyes were teary too. “Let’s get you home.”

—

He took you to his house, and didn’t stop apologising or touching you in that gentle way of his. Not in the shower, not when he tucked you both in and pulled you closer in bed, not when he made sure you’d eaten something and drank plenty of water.

And especially not when he made love to you again. Slow, and passionate love. Fingers laced together, his body on top of yours, his cock moving in and out of you languidly, his eyes staring into yours in a way that made you tear up again.

“I’m sorry.” He whispered, kissing all over your face.

“Me too.” You whispered, breathlessly. “We could’ve–” You gasped in pleasure, “We could’ve handled that better.”

Bucky chuckled, kissing you on the mouth. “We’re idiots.”

You giggled, his beard scratching your skin. “I agree.”

—

You woke up the next morning wrapped in Bucky’s arms. He clung to you like a koala bear. And his heat was the most glorious thing to wake up to on a rainy morning. The world outside was cloudy and grey, and perfect for cuddles.

“Are you up?” He asked, his voice tired and deeper than normal.

“How long have you been up?” You asked, turning around to face him.

“Didn’t sleep.” He said.

“Bucky,” You chided, “Are you still worrying about last night?”

He avoided your eyes.

“Baby,” You cooed. “It’s okay. We talked about it, remember?”

And you had a long conversation last night, after the multiple rounds of sex in his bed. About his protectiveness, about you being careful, about your relationship, about his fears, triggers, and worries due to his past, about everything.

“I know,” He mumbled, kissing your forehead. “I love you. Too much.”

You giggled, “I love you too. Too fucking much.”

He seemed in a nicer mood instantly. “What would’ve happened to me if you hadn’t showed up that day? At my door with muffins and cookies to seduce me.”

You laughed, snuggling into him. “Hey, it worked. I mean, I’m naked in your bed.”

He laughed too. “Thank you, baby.”

“What for?”

“Sticking around.”

“Oh Buck. I’ll always stick around.” You mumbled into his neck, “Just promise me we’ll have more… date nights deep into the woods.”

He mumbled something about how he’d created a little sex monster, then pulled you closer and said, “Whatever you want, baby.” Then finally, he drifted off to a much needed sleep with his arms still wrapped around you.

—

a/n: get it? She was wearing a RED coat in the woods, and he’s the White WOLF hehehe– [they drag me back to my padded cell as I scream] UNTIL NEXT TIME!!! [they lock me in my cell]

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes au #marvel

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rooniearts · 3 days ago

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Pitayaverse Asks............ TWO!

I once again have a good handful of asks regarding Pitayaverse, so here goes another post! :'D This time around there's about 29 asks I'll be answering! Enjoy <3

Silver's fine! His fur is just darkening with age :] Think of it like how a Siamese cat's fur works - he starts out looking almost fully white, but his limbs and face slowly darkens over time.

REAL,,, petition to let Tails hit his brother with hammers

@dahliacloud

Oh yes, he resents him deeply. He had no part in any of this, but still slowly but surely ended up with all of Sonic's responsibilities. But by far the worst part for him is seeing how much it all affects this tiny little baby girl. THAT is what truly infuriates him.

It's come to my attention that this ask is probably about his Archie backstory, which I unfortunately don't know much about and so isn't canon to the AU ;v; I'm going with the vague idea that they don't have parents for whatever reason and had to grow up alone together

But in that case, I still like to think it has a part to play, yeah. Tails knows how hard it is to grow up without a parent, and he knows Sonic does too, so he can't comprehend why he isn't trying harder to give this kid that love and stability.

@lowkeuu

LMAOOO idek how that would work with a fox! Maybe his fur thins? Idk :'D but he absolutely does start growing grey hairs pretty young

Oh, yeah. Having the Kind Patient Sweet one of the group snap and pop the fuck off on someone is scary every time it happens. All of them, Shadow included, would definitely be taken aback at the very least.

If I do end up giving them a kid, then this is absolutely the way I'd go with it. I can't let my boy go through even more turmoil in this AU, he's had more than enough :')

AWW LOL, see I like this take on it. That's very cute and I think he would just actually volunteer to take them in at that point too :D

[Referring to this post]

She does, but calling them that is a habit she picked up from Tails. Sonic and Knuckles just only referred to themselves and eachother as "dad," so when she'd talk to Tails about them he'd ask her to specify whether she meant "Sonic-dad" or "Knuckles-dad." Eventually she just started using those terms every time she spoke to or about them!

As Pitaya grows up, Knuckles graduates from "Knuckles-dad" to just "dad", but she eventually just starts calling Sonic by his name. Sonic doesn't really mind this, except for the few times that Knuckles gets to hold it over his head

HEHEHE loving all this Pitaya hype from y'all!! Thank you and yes, she deserves the world <3

YESSS! It's so important to me that she grows up to be happy. Maybe not well adjusted, but she's got endless determination and is not afraid to speak her mind!

[Referring to this post]

I mean, it's part of why. His actions didn't exactly do much to alleviate her doubts, either.

@your-local-cattus-enjoyer

The master post is right here! There may be a few stray asks that aren't listed, but they should still be under the tag

The basic gist of it is that he was just really neglectful. He was barely there, and when he was, it was often only a matter of time before he and Knuckles started fighting. As an adult, she's also really upset that he let Tails take over all the heavy lifting for him when he was still just a kid too.

Once in a while! Usually whenever both Knuckles and Tails are preoccupied for whatever reason. All their stories of clever sleuthing and high-stakes tussles is what made her want to be a detective one day :]

And yes, actually, she did! Her and Echo, and occasionally Psi and Alloy, end up forming their own New Chaotix Detectives group! They just aren't nearly as active as Vector, Espio and Charmy were :')

LOL, for sure! She loooves her cool uncles Vector, Espio and Charmy. She knows they've always got her back <3

Mighty USED to be in the cool uncle camp, but absolutely not anymore. That went out the window the second he got with Sonic. She does love Knuckles, but she's had her ups and downs with him. Ray she just doesn't really know at all, he just goes in the resentment bin by association :'D

That's so true actually,,,, my obvious Chaotix bias is showing :'D

But hmm, that's a good question. If they were to end up together, I think they probably wouldn't have kids, no. I like to imagine they'd be the type of couple who live seperately and just visit eachother frequently, and not like married with kids.

@inkmaams

Their go-to babysitter list is very short because Silver gets very very paranoid over them :'D It consists of Blaze&Amy and Vector ONLY. And it took Espio AGES to convince Silver to let Vector take care of them in the first place

[Referring to this post]

Yup :') He was probably not gonna tell them about any of that, but alas he and Espio spawned Little Mr. Thought Police so now he has no choice but to explain himself </3

@i-only-created-this-to-read

Maybe not robots, but in theory, I guess he probably could read aliens' minds. I was mostly referring to humans/mobians, but there's no reason he couldn't try on other sentient organic beings. However, I feel like they may end up being incomprehensible noise to him because of how differently an alien's brain would work to his own

As for when he's in meltdown mode and can hear everyone all at once, no, he can't hear everyone in the universe, just those that are within a certain radius. Think of it as like whatever a normal hearing range would be, just not obstructed by walls.

Yes! Espio and Silver are married and besides one or two blow-ups, they happily stay that way. And Sonic and Mighty are at the very least life partners, whether they get married or not (I haven't yet decided lol)

Besides them, Blaze and Amy are also married! And Knuckles and Rouge too eventually :]

LMAO, Sonic WISHES. But nay, Mighty had to go and be a spoilsport and put a rule against backwards names. Rude of him tbh.

bro just can't stop spawning babies, what can I say🥀

@scribble0rat

LOL yeah the poor guy only had a vague idea of what he was signing up for. He had met Pitaya once in a while when she was young, and he knew Sonic had struggled with being there for her and that something happened between him and his friend group, but he didn't realize just how angry not only Pitaya was, but also Tails. He's using all those years of anger management to their fullest to tank this situation, I fear :'D

AND YESSS my boy needs more love <3 Us Mighty girlies have to stick together💪

AWWW that's actually such a cute thought experiment!!!!

It's hard to say, but I think they'd be relatively close. Maybe not joined at the hip, but they'd appreciate one another. They're both very similar in personality, it's just mostly that Echo is an introvert and Silver is a HUGE extrovert. The only conflict I can think of is that Echo is very much a copycat, and I think Silver might get annoyed with that pretty quick.

@marinette-sky

No, Shadow is Echo's only parent via cloning shenanigans. Sonic has nothing to do with her, thank goodness :'D

And thank you!! Much appreciated!!! <3

#roonie answers #pitayaverse

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3liza · 1 day ago

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i really really love the ircgalleria account on here because i understand how fashion and nostalgia both work and ive seen it happen a dozen times during my lifetime but i still want zoomers to understand that when you are talking longingly about "y2k fashion", this is what youre actually referring to. the pics on that account and its associated instagram, which i absolutely and unironically love, because the pictures are truly archival gold and show a level of human joy we may not see again in my lifetime, is what everyone actually looked like between about 1999 and 2008, depending on geographical location and metropolitan level. it was arguably one of the single worst eras of personal style in human history. except for goths who were actively at an event of some kind and other really alienated or marginalized people, EVERYONE looked bad, all the time. one of the great reliefs of aging has been getting away from having to look at everyone waddling around in outfits made entirely of clothing that not only didnt fit, but was physically painful, and finally seeing everyone let their eyebrows grow back and learn how to do their makeup properly from influencers. god makeup used to be bad. the products themselves, not just how we applied them. i'll take every broccoli-headed zoomer kyle and his nose-contoured girlfriend over the appalling crap that passed for the normative trends back then

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wileycap · 22 hours ago

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I think we in the A:TLA fandom have missed the absolute potential of the fact that Ozai Firelord is canonically a fucking idiot. I mean the dude's straight up stupid. And I want to be very clear that this isn't a plot hole, this isn't a flaw in the show, this is a fantastic and super realistic element that honestly enhances my enjoyment of it! Dictators are often stupid and breed a culture of cronyism-over-competence. Any similarities with real world leaders, dead or alive, are coincidental yet inevitable.

What do I mean?

Well, let's take the Drill. When faced with the problem of Big Wall, Ozai's Fire Nation comes up with Big Drill. One singular Big Drill. Which, as anyone except an idiot could have predicted, immediately breaks down and accomplishes nothing. And if the Fire Nation had made it past the wall, then they would have been fighting through a narrow opening against people who can hurl long distance rocks! Which, if your face or body is vulnerable to high velocity rocks, is a bad thing for you and also for the battle.

Not to mention the resource cost of that thing! It's so insanely gigantic, it must have cost the Fire Nation the equivalent of trillions. For ONE drill. Not ten smaller drills. Just ONE drill. (Fanfic fuel: how much did Ba Sing Se profit off of stripping that drill for parts? Did they reverse engineer it? Did Long Feng keep that for himself?)

And you might be thinking, fairly, that it was War Minister Qin who came up with the drill and you'd be right, but it's Ozai who's approving all this shit. Instead of doing the reasonable thing and asking Qin if he et the whole edible, or even the in-character thing of burning him to death, Ozai just goes... big drill. Makes sense. We should have the biggest drill, because we are the biggest nation. Drill, baby, drill. sorry

It's not the first time, either! He also approves Zhao's invasion of the North Pole, apparently just because Zhao is good at kissing ass and hates Zuko? I couldn't tell you what merits Zhao has. We do not see him lead a single successful mission. The closest he comes is Pohuai, and even then its the Yuyan archers who do most of the work. (My longstanding headcanon is that the reason we don't see the Yuyan archers again is because Zhao blamed the whole thing on them and they were disbanded. This is great fic fuel for displaced Yuyan archers just, wandering around, being elite.)

He approved a massive naval invasion of the North Pole, surrounded by and made of water and ice, inhabited by people who bend water. A nation that was, by its own choice, completely out of the war.

Every time we see Ozai doing something, it's something stupid. Like disfiguring and banishing his firstborn child in a culture that has primogeniture. And then (once he's done pissing away a massive fleet of ships) he does the logical thing and sends his only other heir to bring his first heir back - even though his first heir would have been willing to return with a simple invitation. Like he could have sent a letter saying "dear son come home miss u pick up 200 000 tons of steel qin wants 2 build a drill lol", and Zuko would have come. (Okay, he did have a valid reason for having Zuko escorted, since he thought Iroh was a traitor, but there's absolutely NO reason to risk Azula. Why not send Combustion Man? It's the luckiest stroke of luck ever that Azula is 100 times more competent than her dad.)

Of course, a dictator(-wannabe) sending his daughter on high-level diplomatic missions is pure fiction. Nobody would do that.

The best part of this is that it's entirely realistic and in-character. I could absolutely imagine Ozai purging all of his competent admirals and generals, and then promoting brownnoses like Zhao and crackpots like Qin, because they promised him glorious destinies and secret knowledge of Big Drill.

I also really, really want a scene of Zuko and Azula realizing that their father is a fucking idiot.

I would also like to note that all this stupid shit happens after Iroh leaves with Zuko. So, here's a headcanon: the only reason the Fire Nation didn't immediately implode when Ozai took the throne and purged everyone is because of Iroh. Iroh leaving with Zuko doomed Ozai. It's also a nice little drop of complexity in Iroh's character - he knew he was single-handedly keeping the Fire Nation afloat, yet he only left when Zuko did. Did he plan for Zuko to take the throne from the start? What was his plan before Aang showed up? Did he not intervene in the Agni Kai because he was afraid, or because he knew that Ozai was making a huge mistake and didn't want to interrupt? Give me chessmaster Iroh please.

#atla #avatar the last airbender #zuko #azula #ozai #fire lord ozai #fire nation #uncle iroh #atla crack #atla headcanons #I have a vendetta against that drill. Again it's 100% a thing that I can see Ozai approving. But I hate it #Fuck your drill Fire Donald you dumb fucking idiot #sorry. a bit on the nose there. i was so subtle up until just then.#Also burning the whole Earth Kingdom? AND THEN WHAT ASSHOLE. THEN WHAT WILL YOU DO.#It's a miracle he didn't get assassinated. Ozai must have gone through five food tasters a day.#“Oop there goes another one. I guess they all just hate how great I am. hashtag sufferingfromsuccess”

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itsbenedict · 2 days ago

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This is tricky! There's a lot of unknowns to worry about.

Like... volcano: I'm assuming this amulet is like, a normal amulet-strength amulet, so chucking it into a volcano is just an immediate failstate. The demonlord we can assume is indestructible enough, but not the prison.

Security through obscurity (chuck it in a landfill or bury it somewhere): Man, what if that corruptive force compels some shmuck to come dig it up? You don't know how detectable this thing is.

Deep-sea trench: problematic because the corruptive forces might attract squid or whatever deep-sea creature might be attracted to the amulet. You can't rely on the ocean to be more hostile to amulet-seekers than land. Plus, subduction might happen and take us back to the volcano situation.

Shoot it into space: not really on the table, assuming this is your standard medieval fantasy setting. You can't just waltz down to your local space agency or satellite launching company and say "hey, one-way ticket to Betelgeuse, please". Hypothetically you could engineer some sort of improvised launch solution here using magic??

Though- possible complication for the space option even if it works: how's the demonlord feel about being launched into a star? Is that enough to kill it? Or do we now have a Demon Star coming for us? Probably the amulet melts before falling all the way into the star anyway, and the fucker can just... fly back, I guess. Troublesome.

So- short of a fantasy space program that can figure out a trajectory that guarantees this thing isn't coming back until our own sun has burned out- this thing needs to be supervised.

Okay, how's supervising the amulet work? We could try establishing a holy paladin order dedicated to keeping it contained- but holy paladin orders are, despite their whole branding situation, not actually insusceptible to corruption.

This is where the unknowns really bite us. We're just hypothesizing a corruptive force here! We don't actually have any working knowledge of how such a force would operate- the most critical information gap being its maximum range. Given infinite money, you could hypothetically establish a facility to contain the thing, making sure no one gets close enough to be corrupted- but how big would it need to be? You couldn't draw blueprints with safety tolerances for a phenomenon you're just imagining. You need data.

So how do you get the data? That's tricky, too. It necessitates keeping it contained in the short term, which has all the same problems just for less time.

You could... set up a ring of concentric habitats, maybe? Station a hierarchy of guys at some log-scale distances, with outer rings having a way to contain and monitor the inhabitants of inner rings in case they get mind-whammied by a demon amulet. Maintain these habitats long enough to see who gets corrupted and who doesn't, and you've got a measurement of its maximum range.

Except obviously there's a thousand problems with that.

What if the maximum range is bigger than your whole ring of observation stations? You're immediately fucked.

How are you measuring corruption? How is such a metric not immediately a boondoggle of paranoia and popularity contests? Is it even possible to get accurate readings on this phenomenon?

What if the "corruption aura" is some direct exercise of the demonlord's will, and it can intelligently game your metrics or lie low to screw up your data?

Even if the effect is obvious and measurable, how are you keeping it contained? You've got to have people with enough firepower to contain any corrupted subjects inside, but the more rings fall, the more the problem compounds- each successive ring has to be able to go toe-to-toe with all contained rings banding together.

Or with those plus the demonlord, if the subjects on the inside getting exposed to the corruption manage to break whatever physical security you have on the amulet inside.

Even if it's obvious and measurable and you can prevent an outbreak somehow- hey, what're you going to do with all those test subjects you exposed to demon corruption? Do you just have to kill those guys now? Good luck finding anyone willing to volunteer for inner ring duty.

Grab bag of logistical issues funding this whole operation. How're you going to get enough people to volunteer to run this and/or die for it? Holy paladin order again? You don't have one of those on call- you'll have to grow your own. And any plan that starts with "start a cult about it" is inherently pretty volatile.

Obviously trying to obtain this information from scratch is not safe or practical. But is the information out there already?

You're going to need to hit the books. What's this corruptive force you're imagining- is there precedent? Have demonlords done this before? This is a fantasy world- this sort of thing has surely happened before, most likely exactly one thousand years ago (standard procedure for this sort of thing). Information on demonic corruption is available somewhere- but you're a canny adventurer. You are not a history nerd. This is not your wheelhouse.

So you delegate.

Who do you delegate to? You need someone who is intimately familiar with the mechanics of demonic corruption- and preferably, has experience surviving and managing its effects. Someone who knows all about what these sorts of things are capable of, and will know what to do to keep them from corrupting them.

You are gonna look up the evilest wizard you can find, you are going to march up to the top of their wizard tower, and you are going to hand the amulet to them.

This is the only way to be safe and responsible in this situation. Trust me.

Ok, ok, hypothetical. You and your party have sealed the great evil demonlord in an amulet.

You are a canny adventurer, and have heard many a tale of artifacts like these that end in tragedy, either from some corruptive force emanating from them or some dickhead finding where the thing was hidden and breaking the demonlord free.

You're going to be smarter than those chumps. What do you do to safeguard the amulet and keep the evil sealed for good?

#oh no popular post

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fawnnlvr · 3 days ago

Text

quiet support | spencer reid

pairing: spencer reid x catvalentine!reader

masterlist

summary: in which spencer reid realizes that he does in fact have one supporter in his journey with dealing with his addiction to dilaudid

word count: 2.3k

warning: addiction, kidnapping, all the themes of criminal minds, and cat valentine lore

author's note: i just really wanted to write a story where spencer reid had at least somebody to support him through his addiction. what better person than a girl who had been through it herself and is the type of person to offer unconditional love to those around me. pre-lobotomy cat is always in my mind

You had joined the BAU right after the a tragedy had struck the entire unit. Their number one prodigy was one the verge of dying after being kidnapped and tortured by an unsub. Although Spencer Reid was able to get some time off after the whole ordeal, he didn't fully use his time as he wanted his job to give him a sort of distraction from his racing thoughts. He wanted things to go back to normal.

Emily Prentiss had also joined right after you; the two of you creating big changes to a unit that is already on edge. When you accepted the position as the assistant, you would've never imagined you would've been assigned to the most psychologically grueling unit but that's just the way things go and it was times like this where you felt it was somewhat fate.

You recognized the signs. The agitation, those around getting worried about your behavior, the concerning gazes, the increased aggressive behavior, and the distracted mind. It was something you knew all too well.

Although you hadn't been apart of the team for long, it bothered you that everybody seemed to turn a blind eye. They were profilers weren't they? They could see what was happening? Even your high school friends had noticed quickly despite only really seeing each other during school days. The unit spent the most time together so how could they not say something?

Really, it wasn't your place to intervene since you were barely apart of the group. You mainly worked with JJ and contact was limited except for the occasional greetings and helping JJ with the briefings.

One day, you noticed Spencer get up from his desk and make his way to the bathroom, agitation clear on his face. You followed and waited outside, a neatly printed out photo and a staple in your hand as you stapled the paper on the wall. It was a support group with information on where and when it takes place.

You heard him coming out, "Oh my what a nice poster to help people!" you never were a good person to lie when it came to hidden intentions. You looked behind when the door opened and it was not Spencer Reid but another agent, "Oh hello, Agent Anderson. How's your day?"

Anderson lit up at the question and happily told you about it while you just nodded your head, nervously keeping an eye out for Spencer. The bathroom door opened once again and Spencer had zoomed pass the two and towards his desk. After Anderson finished his rant, you smiled and sighed when he left.

First attempt was a fail, but you weren't going to give up.

You came into work early the next day, and lingered around the coffee bar, waiting for Spencer to get his daily morning coffee at the exact time he always did.

"Hi Spencer!" you waved and he smiled and greeted your back, "10 sugars as usual?"

He nodded and this was your chance. You pulled out a pack of gum and started to unravel it. You wanted to show him a small alternative to whatever he was addicted to. Curiosity always got the best of Spencer as he loved to ramble about random things. "Whats that?"

"Gum! I like to chew on it whenever I'm craving something else."

"What would you be craving?"

"You know. The usual, but I think the sugars in this gum can really distract a person."

"Like nicotine gum?"

Your head snapped towards him, eyes narrowing as if he had told you highly classified information, "Of course not. I've never been addicted to nicotine. What are you trying to say?"

Spencer was taken aback by your sudden defensiveness and it seemed you were as well. An awkward laugh left you as you tucked a hair strand behind your hair, "I think I am going to start work now. Bye Doctor."

Okay so that did not go the way you had hoped so. Nicotine was a touchy subject for you as it had turned out, the British snack, bibble, you were so addicted too, had traces of it in the factory that seeped into the sweet snack. After it was banned, only then did you realize that you had a serious problem.

However, what you didn't know at that time was that a wheel sort of turned in Spencer's head. The next couple of days, you figured it was time to step back and reflect. Aggressively chewing your pink gum, you tried to calm yourself down to reflect on your defensiveness. Seeing a therapist had really helped you process your emotions and psychological issues, which you learned had nothing to do with your dyed red hair. The gum was in no way nicotine gum, as you slowly weened off of it long ago but still needed that chewing fixation.

You spun around in your chair at your desk that was next to JJ's. She was going through the case files and you just finished communicating with police precincts in New York.

A knock on the door brought you out of your daze. Your head looked towards who it could be and there was Spencer Reid, a nervous smile on his face as he opened the glass door.

"Hey. Sorry JJ, can I borrow [Name]?"

JJ had this smile on her face as she looked between you and Reid, "Go ahead."

You quickly stopped chewing your gum, grabbed the small trash can by your desk and leaned down to peacefully spit out the gum away from the public's view. The gum sticks were still in your pocket as you followed Spencer out the office.

Spencer noticed that you were unusually quiet, possibly thinking the same as he was. He led you towards a more quieter, private section of Quantico: their case file room.

"What did you need Doctor?" you tried to feign a normal tone but you would've needed to do more to fool a profiler. The two of you sat on a bench that was placed for those who had to search for hours.

"I know what you've been doing."

"What?" You dragged on the last syllable in a higher octave.

"I know it was you who put up those support group posters by the men's bathroom, inside the men's bathroom, the elevator, and in the lobby cork board." You tried to interupt and defend yourself, "I saw the pink double-sided tape and you used the same design for each one."

That last part quickly caused you to shut your lips, "Sorry." you quietly stated and your head hung Iow.

"It's okay. You don't have to apologize. I just wanted to thank you. I actually did check out when of the groups yesterday and it felt nice to open up to other people."

You turned to him and moved closer even though the bench was already quite cramped, "You did? How did we not see each other?"

"You went?"

"Yeah well I sort of kinda volunteer to help arrange it during my free time since it was groups like that that helped me."

"I went to the one at night."

"Oh! Yeah that's probably why." You smiled and moved away.

"I do want to ask, but I don't want to sound too intruding seeing as what happened at the coffee bar."

"Sorry for being defensive. I'm trying to work on that but ask me whatever you want Spencer! I promise I will be open to anything."

"Well I assume that you too were also addicted to something." he carefully worded his words, "How long was it till you felt like you didn't think about using it again."

For once, you really looked deep in thought. Your eyebrows furrowed as you tried to formulate your thoughts of this seven year long battle. "Well, I'm not sure I can tell you. When I was 16, I was addicted to this British snack called bibble."

"Wasn't there a big case for that with the FDA?"

"Yes. They were adding nicotine to make it more addictive, but the damage was already done by the time it was sent to the world. I had three giant stashes in my room and it would be the only thing I ate. Even after the stash was gone because my friends threw it away, I couldn't stop thinking about it and constantly craved it. The drawbacks were the worse and it took a lot for me to not buy nicotine products to fill the void."

"How did you resist?"

"I had people who cared for me. Enough to go to my house and take away any traces of bibble. Enough to research how to try and ween me off of it. Enough to buy me nicotine gum and other candies to fill the void. Enough to not go away even after I almost fought them. And enough to give me strength to recover and continue to choose recovering."

That is probably the sweetest and most nondisturbing story he had ever heard from you.

"They also handcuffed me to a recovered addict when they first found out to stop me from buying bibble."

And there it was.

"He was really a nice man and we made a promise to stop eating bibble or use any nicotine products. I still keep in contact with him whenever we get cravings and need support."

You then turned to Spencer and placed your hand on top of his, "I really didn't want to try and intrude since I am new to this team but you really reminded me a lot of myself and I just wanted you to know that you have a supporter. It really is a tough journey and I probably wouldnt be here if I didnt have people who helped me and I dont want you to turn into a version of what could have been me."

'You have a supporter' Those words replayed in Spencer's mind. He looked into your eyes, this warm feeling in his chest as he looked at the resolve in your eyes.

The two of you stayed silent for a while; a comfortable silence yet unspoken words lingered over his head. He glanced towards you; you simply had this smile of relief on your face, happy you got that off your chest, but you still felt a little worried and nervous. Almost as if you were unsure of what would happen now.

"When I first got kidnapped, I remembered thinking that this would have been the end. The unsub had a split personality and one part of him tried saving me in this deluded way through injecting me with a hallucigen."

You knew about the kidnapping but you were never sure about what exactly he went through during that time.

"In a messed up way, I would say that it saved me from what I was experiencing. The more he injected me with, the more that I felt the most calm I had ever felt in my entire life and it made me chase that feeling. When Hotch and the others found me, I—"

Spencer had to pause. He never really imagined he'd recount this story aloud, let alone to the a new agent he met less than a month again. Your hand found it's way back to his, rubbing your thumb to provide a sense of comfort.

"I ended up taking some with me when all was said and done and its still —" he spoke slowly and he could feel his voice crack. This was a smile side of vulnerability he wasn't even sure he had in him. He barely had the courage to look you in the eye as he retold it to you, but felt it was necessary after you shared yours.

Spencer did not have to say anything more before you gently took you hand off of his and wrapped your arms around him. One hand found the back of his head as you caressed his hair and he melted into you. It has been a while since he got a hug. The last one probably got was from Hotch when he found him in the graveyard but he initiated it. The last time anyone had initiated a hug with him was right before Elle Greenaway had left.

You gave a good hug, Spencer deduced as he practically melted into your gentle touch. He did not mind any germs at this time as all he needed right now was the support he longed for from those around him.

"I'm sorry you had to go through that, Spencer. You are so so so strong. Thank you for trusting me."

He wasn't sure how long he had stayed in your arms or how much time had passed since the two of you had entered the file room, but he was so glad that he went to talk to you. It truly was you who gave him the strength through your quiet unconditional support despite only knowing him for a month and only knowing this side of him.

The first rule of giving a hug is to never pull away first and that's a rule of life that you abide by. It was Spencer who pulled away from the hug and you simply stayed close to him. He wasn't sure where this journey will lead him and he couldn't estimate the difficulty either, but with you by his side to support him, he knew it would be okay.

But of course, even after these sweet moments, you would never change your surprising nature. "Shall I handcuff us together now?"

Spencer just smiled, happy you are still your jolly self and gently let you done with a small shake of his head.

#spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid angst #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #criminal minds x reader #spencer reid fluff #criminal minds angst #criminal minds fluff #criminal minds crackfic

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hyunjincanraptoo · 2 days ago

Note

congrats on 500!!!!! i would be happy with literally ANY chan prompt 🥹

Hi, baby! I chose number 11 to you 🤭 This is somehow very self indulgent and so Chan coded imo. And idk about you guys but I miss blonde channie so I had to bring him back. I also reunited all the songs in one playlist :)

11. You made me a mixtape? (I forgot to add this sentence to the story 😅)

Word count: 0.7k

No warnings, this is pure fluff & shy Channie

Alexa, play Love Language by TOMORROW X TOGETHER

It starts with a knock you almost miss. Just one— soft, fain, kinda shy

By the time you open the door, the hallway's already empty, except for a small brown paper bag on your welcome mat. There’s no name, just a little doodled heart on the label, and a playlist titled:

“What’s your love language? This is mine…”, scrawled across a CD sleeve

Inside you found a carefully labeled CD, five small sticky notes, each folded and numbered. And a slightly crumpled pack of banana flavored candy.

For a moment, you know who made this.

You laugh— because it’s very him.

You slide the CD into your laptop, press play, and sit cross legged on the bed as the first track starts.

Track 1: “Friday I’m In Love” – The Cure

You unfold the first sticky note.

“It was a Friday. You borrowed a pen from me and tapped it against your lip while thinking. I couldn’t focus for the rest of the lecture. That’s when I realized: I was screwed. I liked you. Like, really liked you”

You press your hand to your mouth to stifle a grin.

Track 2: “Out of My Head” – Khalid & John Mayer

“I tried not to fall. I really did. But then you leaned over to help me find a page in my textbook and your fingers brushed mine. I didn’t sleep that night thinking about you. Still don’t, sometimes”

You clutch the note to your chest.

Track 3: “Banana Pancakes” – Jack Johnson

“Okay… this one’s kind of a dream, but I think about it a lot. Just… you, me, a rainy day, coffee and bad banana pancakes. You laughing at my kitchen while wearing one of my hoodies... I’d be the luckiest man in the whole world”

That explains the banana candy. Of course, Chan doesn't miss details.

Track 4: “Sweet” – Cigarettes After Sex

“If I ever get to kiss you, I want it to feel like this song. Slow, careful, like we’ve got all the time in the world. I don’t want it to spark and disappear, I want it to stay. I think you’d taste like something sweet. I’d never get tired of it"

Your cheeks burn so hot you have to pause the music for a second.

Track 5: “I Wanna Be Yours” – Arctic Monkeys

“I know this song is kind of dramatic, but I mean every word of it... but in my own way. I don’t need grand gestures, I’d rather be the one who walks you home, who remembers your coffee order, who stays even when things aren’t easy. I wanna be yours, in the quiet, lingering way”

The music fade gently, and you swear you can hear Chan’s heartbeat in every note.

Whipping some tears, you’re already grabbing your hoodie, barefoot, heart racing, mixtape in one hand.

You swing open the door— and there he is, waiting by the stairs.

His blonde hair is falling in his eyes, one hand behind his back, rocking slightly on his heels. The other hand holds a small, but beautiful, bouquet of your favorite flower .

He stands there under the porch light, with his hoodie sleeves covering his fingers like they’re trying to protect him from how exposed he feels.

You’re holding the mixtape to your chest. Your heart's pounding messy in your chest.

Chan tries to smile, but it’s shaky.

“So…” he starts, voice breathless, “do you… wanna live this story with me?”

You don’t answer, not with words.

You just lean in and kiss him— warmly and gently.

At first, he doesn’t move. Just freezes, widening his eyes. A faint gasp gets caught in his throat like he’s not sure this is really happening.

But then, his shoulders relax. His fingers uncurl around the flowers. And he kisses you back like it’s the first time he’s let himself feel the full weight of hope.

When you pull away, his cheeks are bright pink, lips parted, eyes searching yours like if he blinked he would wake up.

“W–was that… real?”

You grin and tuck your hand into his.

“Yeah”, you whisper, “And I think we just wrote track 6”

He blinks, stunned, “track 6?”

You hold up the mixtape with a playful tilt of your head, “The beginning. Every playlist needs a good opener for what comes next”

You pull out your phone, and hit play.

The smooth beat of 'Day 1' by Honne spills out of the speaker

“'Cause from day one, I was already yours. And if this is where we start… I can’t wait to see the rest"

He makes a shy noise, something in between a laugh and a whimper, and buries his smile behind the flowers.

“I think that’s the best one", he mumbles.

You nudge his shoulder, “Now we just have to write track 7 together"

"I want to write the whole album with you"

If you enjoyed it please consider liking and reblogging. Feedbacks, loves notes and requests are very much appreciated 😊

taglist: @hyyunjinnn , @jehhskz , @mbioooo0000 , @nightmarenyxx , @rozsdascsaptelep , @thatonegirlonhere , @notmedina127, @sweetlifeofjoy , @jeonginsleftcheek , @yelhsaa , @my-neurodivergent-world , @hyunles , @lexlikesbts , @imagine-all-the-imagines , @mysterysold , @teenagepeterpan , @hangonhyunjin

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favefandomimagines · 20 hours ago

Text

Simp (f.l)

Summary: Frank is pining hardcore after his coworker…very hardcore

Request: the lack of frank fics on here is crazy cos he’s so gorgeous and complex but anyways i see you write for him so i was wondering if you could do like hardcore pining, yearning frank x reader where everyone in the pitt can see the tension between them but they are both too stubborn to make the first move

AN: I love a man who yearns

The Pit never really slept. Even when the halls were quieter, and the monitors only beeped sporadically, there was a pulse in the place—steady, stubborn, alive. Dr. Frank Langdon liked to think he was much the same.

After the messy collapse of his marriage and the months of slow, aching rebuild afterward, he carried himself with a certain armor. Confident, cocky even. Unshakable.

Except, of course, when it came to her.

Y/N.

Y/N was chaos and kindness bottled in one person. She had this way of commanding a trauma bay with a clipped, efficient voice that left even seasoned nurses scrambling to follow her orders. She was brilliant, stubborn, and sharp-tongued enough to keep up with Frank—and that was saying something.

The worst part? She had no idea.

Or maybe she did.

Frank leaned against the nurse’s station, arms crossed, pretending to review a chart on his tablet while sneaking glances at Y/N across the ER.

She was laughing with Dr. Mohan by the vending machines, head thrown back, one hand lightly resting on her hip. Frank could feel the tug in his chest like a goddamn fishhook. He swallowed thickly.

Mohan said something else—probably an inside joke between them—and Y/N laughed again. Frank had never envied a vending machine so much in his life.

"You’re staring again," muttered Dana, sliding past him with a smirk.

"I’m not staring," Frank grumbled, heat creeping up his neck.

"Sure you're not," Dana sing-songed, disappearing into a patient room.

Frank sighed and ran a hand through his messy brown hair. How had it come to this? He, Frank Langdon, reduced to a pining idiot over a woman he couldn’t even bring himself to properly ask out.

Because it wasn’t just a crush. Not anymore.

It was the way his stomach twisted whenever Y/N smiled at someone else. It was the way he tuned into her voice automatically, even in a packed trauma bay. It was the way he noticed when she was tired or when she had a new pen tucked behind her ear.

It was the way he caught himself thinking of her, constantly.

And it scared the absolute hell out of him.

Meanwhile, across the ER, Y/N was not as oblivious as she pretended to be.

She could feel Frank's eyes on her sometimes—okay, a lot of the time. She could hear the subtle shift in his voice when he spoke to her, the way his teasing banter always edged just a little closer to sincere when they were alone.

And she wasn’t blind; Frank Langdon was absurdly attractive. Even after a 15-hour shift when his scrubs were wrinkled and his hair was a mess, he somehow looked like he belonged on the cover of a medical drama poster.

And God, was he good at what he did. Watching Frank run a code was like watching art happen in real time—sharp, smooth, unflinching. He had a gift.

But she also knew his history. Everyone in the Pit did.

The divorce. The bitterness that had curled under his skin like smoke. The wild, reckless way he’d thrown himself into work afterward, like if he stayed busy enough, he wouldn’t have to think.

Y/N had spent too many nights nursing friends through breakups to not recognize the signs.

And she wasn’t about to be anyone's rebound—not even Frank Langdon's.

Even if her heart did stutter every time he flashed her that cocky, lopsided grin. Even if she found herself looking for excuses to team up with him on cases. Even if she felt safer with him in a trauma bay than almost anyone else.

Especially because of all that.

She was too stubborn to make the first move. Too scared of getting her heart broken into something small and unfixable.

So she played the game, smiled back, flirted when it felt safe—but always, always kept the line between them firmly drawn.

Even if she wanted to cross it more than anything.

It wasn’t until the accident came in that night, right before shift change, that Frank realized he was absolutely, irrevocably screwed.

"Mass casualty incoming," the charge nurse warned, sticking her head into the lounge where Frank and Y/N were both trying—and failing—to eat dinner. "Multi-car pileup on 76. Five patients at least. ETA three minutes."

Frank immediately shoved his food aside and rose. Y/N was already moving too, grabbing gloves and snapping them on with practiced ease. Their eyes met briefly, and Frank felt it—an electric charge sparking between them.

"You ready, partner?" he drawled, bumping his shoulder lightly against hers.

Y/N smirked. "Born ready, Langdon."

God help him.

The first ambulance screeched into the bay, and chaos bloomed like a stormcloud.

Frank and Y/N fell into a rhythm instantly, as they always did. Y/N took charge of a young woman with a chest wound while Frank handled a man with a broken femur and a possible spinal injury. Orders flew. Hands moved. The ER buzzed and roared around them, a living thing.

Frank could see Y/N out of the corner of his eye the whole time—focused, calm, impossibly beautiful under the harsh fluorescents. Her hair was tied back messily, tendrils falling around her face.

And she was the most breathtaking thing he had ever seen.

He almost missed the nurse asking him for a medication dosage.

"Uh—yeah. One milligram. Push," Frank barked, shaking himself. He could not afford to be distracted right now.

They stabilized their patients, pushed them off to CT and trauma surgery, and somehow—somehow—managed to get a breathing space. Frank peeled his gloves off with a snap, leaning against the wall to catch his breath.

Y/N slid down to sit beside him on the floor, legs stretched out in front of her.

"You good?" she asked, voice soft.

Frank turned his head and looked at her, really looked. At the exhaustion in her shoulders. The stubborn strength in her posture. The little curl of hair that had escaped her ponytail and clung damply to her temple.

God, he wanted to kiss her.

He wanted to kiss her so badly it hurt.

Instead, he said, "You were amazing in there."

Y/N smiled, a little bashful, a little amused. "You weren’t so bad yourself, Langdon."

Frank chuckled and leaned his head back against the wall, closing his eyes. "Stick with me, kid. I’ll teach you all my tricks."

"You wish," Y/N shot back.

But she said it warmly, almost fondly.

Frank cracked one eye open and looked at her again, heart thudding against his ribs.

One of these days, he swore, he was going to stop being a coward and ask her out.

Just... not today.

The lull after the trauma surge lasted all of fifteen minutes.

Frank barely made it back to the lounge before being paged again, this time for a nasty lac to the forearm—a teenager who’d slid off a skateboard onto broken glass. Frank stitched quickly, his hands steady even though his brain was still half on Y/N, still replaying the way her fingers had brushed his wrist when she’d handed him a clamp in the trauma bay.

When he finally escaped again, it was to find Y/N sitting sideways on the worn leather couch, her socked feet tucked up under her, flipping through a dog-eared medical journal. A fresh bandage peeked out from beneath the sleeve of her scrub top.

He crossed the room before he could think better of it.

"You didn’t get that cleaned up properly," he said, nodding at her arm.

Y/N raised a brow. "It’s nothing. A scratch."

Frank gave her his best unimpressed doctor stare—the one that usually made med students wither.

"Sit still," he said, grabbing the basic wound care kit from the cabinet.

Y/N hesitated for a second, searching his face, and then—maybe to humor him—stuck her arm out.

Frank perched on the edge of the couch beside her, heart beating far too fast for a guy who'd been covered in other people’s blood less than an hour ago.

He cleaned the scratch carefully, too carefully, aware of every tiny shift of her muscles beneath his fingertips. She smelled faintly of antiseptic and soap, and something warmer underneath—something that was just her.

"You're being very dramatic about this, Dr. Langdon," Y/N teased, watching him work.

"You're my partner," Frank said, more gruffly than he meant to. "Can’t have you bleeding out in the middle of a code."

"How heroic," she said dryly, but there was a small smile playing around her lips.

Frank pressed a bandage gently onto her skin, then looked up—and realized how close they were. Barely a foot between them. He could see the faint spray of freckles across her nose. The glint of amusement in her eyes.

For one reckless second, he thought about leaning in.

Instead, he cleared his throat, dropped his hands into his lap, and said, "All patched up, doc. Try not to injure yourself again for at least an hour."

"Guess I'll try," Y/N said, laughing under her breath.

And for the first time in what felt like forever, Frank thought maybe—maybe—he wasn't completely imagining the way she looked at him.

Later, Y/N leaned against the nurse’s station, charting on a patient, when Dana sidled up to her with a knowing smirk.

"You know he's basically in love with you, right?"

Y/N didn’t look up. "Who?"

Dana snorted. "Langdon. Dr. Broody over there."

Y/N felt her cheeks warm, but kept her voice even. "He's like that with everyone."

"Uh-huh," Dana said skeptically. "Sure. He totally volunteers to clean people’s wounds at random. Super normal."

Y/N tapped the tablet harder than necessary, trying to ignore the way her heart skipped in her chest.

"Anyway," Dana went on, "the entire ER has a betting pool on when he’ll grow a pair and ask you out."

Y/N's head shot up. "You're joking."

"Dead serious. Robby’s got fifty bucks on you two hooking up by Halloween."

Y/N opened her mouth, closed it, and then opened it again. "That's ridiculous."

"Is it, though?" Dana wiggled her eyebrows. "You like him too. Don't even try to deny it."

Y/N shook her head, laughing nervously. "Even if I did—which I'm not saying I do—it's complicated."

"Life’s complicated," Dana said cheerfully, then wandered off to help a patient who was throwing up in bay three.

Y/N stood frozen for a moment, her heart thundering in her ears.

She wasn’t stupid. She knew what she felt for Frank wasn’t casual. She knew that the part of her that held back—the cautious, wounded part—was getting harder and harder to listen to.

But if she fell for Frank Langdon, really fell? She wasn’t sure she could survive it if he broke her heart.

And God, she would fall. She was already halfway there.

It got worse when another trauma rolled in an hour later.

An elderly woman with a head bleed, confused and combative. Frank jumped into action, voice calm but commanding, and Y/N found herself standing beside him almost instinctively, reading off vitals and helping to restrain the patient gently but firmly.

At one point, Frank looked up at her, and the world narrowed to just the two of them.

"You good?" he murmured, low enough that only she could hear.

Y/N nodded, feeling breathless.

Frank’s hand brushed hers briefly as he reached for a clamp. The touch was featherlight, accidental—and yet she felt it like an electric shock all the way to her bones.

They worked seamlessly, saving the woman’s life with a coordinated dance that didn’t need words.

When it was over, when the patient was safely whisked upstairs to neurosurgery, Frank turned to her with a grin that made her knees weak.

"You’re a damn rock star, you know that?" he said.

Y/N laughed shakily. "Coming from you, that's high praise."

Frank’s grin softened into something else—something almost tender.

"I mean it," he said, voice rough. "I’d trust you with my life."

Y/N’s heart twisted.

And she realized—maybe he was already trusting her with it.

Maybe he was just as scared as she was.

Back in the break room, Frank slumped onto the couch, scrubbing his hands over his face.

He couldn’t keep doing this. Couldn’t keep orbiting her like a satellite too scared to land.

Every part of him wanted her. Needed her. Not in the reckless, self-destructive way he’d used to need people, but in a way that felt terrifyingly real.

And if he didn’t tell her soon, he was going to lose his damn mind.

The next shift was somehow even worse.

Frank had never been this distracted in his life.

He nearly forgot to sign a trauma note, practically ignored the med students. Robby caught him staring into space during a chart review and gave him a look that screamed, get your shit together, man.

Frank knew exactly what the problem was.

Y/N.

Y/N, standing three feet away in her black scrubs that maybe Frank thought fit her too well. Y/N, tucking a pencil behind her ear, and making Frank want to do completely inappropriate things in the supply closet. Y/N, being brilliant and fierce and so far out of his reach it physically hurt.

And the worst part—the absolute worst part—was that he could feel the wall between them cracking.

She looked at him differently now. He could see it in the way her eyes lingered, the way her smile faltered sometimes, like she was trying to stop herself from doing something reckless.

He had to do something. Had to say something.

Or he was going to lose her before he ever really had her.

Meanwhile, Y/N wasn't faring much better.

Every time Frank laughed, every time he teased her with that crooked smile and that infuriating wink, she felt herself sliding closer to the edge.

She was tired of fighting it.

Tired of pretending she didn’t want him.

But still—still—fear gnawed at her.

What if he wasn’t ready? What if this was just loneliness, desperation, looking for an easy out?

She couldn’t survive being another casualty in Frank Langdon’s messy post-divorce world.

And she couldn’t survive losing him as a friend, either.

So she waited. And watched. And hoped he’d make the first move.

It was nearly seven in the evening after a long shift, when Frank decided, screw it.

He found her in the back hallway, fiddling with the vending machine, trying to coax a granola bar loose.

"Come on, you stupid piece of shit," Y/N muttered, whacking the side of the machine.

Frank leaned against the wall, arms crossed, watching her with a fond smirk.

"You know, if you wanted a snack that bad, you could’ve just asked me," he said.

Y/N jumped slightly, then rolled her eyes. "I’m fine, thanks."

Frank pushed off the wall and wandered closer, hands shoved deep in his pockets. He felt about a hundred years old and fifteen again all at once.

"You’re not fine," he said lightly. "You’re hangry. It’s a public health emergency."

Y/N laughed despite herself. "You’re impossible."

Frank took a breath. Now or never.

"I was wondering," he said, casual, too casual, "if maybe you wanted to grab dinner sometime."

Y/N blinked. "We grab dinner all the time. Cafeteria food doesn’t count."

"No, I mean—" Frank faltered, scrubbed a hand through his hair. God, he was bad at this. "Like. Real dinner. Plates and silverware. Maybe even something that costs more than five bucks."

He risked a glance at her.

Y/N was staring at him, wide-eyed, like she couldn’t quite believe what she was hearing.

Frank’s stomach twisted. Had he just made a huge mistake?

"Like a date?" she said slowly.

Frank swallowed. His throat was dry as hell.

"Yeah," he said roughly. "Like a date."

The silence stretched between them.

Frank wanted to crawl under the vending machine and die.

Finally—finally—Y/N smiled. Soft. Shy. Beautiful.

"You’re serious," she said, almost wonderingly.

Frank stepped closer. "I’ve been serious for a long time," he said quietly. "Just too much of an idiot to say anything."

Y/N's lips parted slightly, like she was about to say something—and then she shook her head, laughing a little under her breath.

"You’re ridiculous," she said.

"And yet," Frank said, grinning now, "you’re still here."

Y/N hesitated for a heartbeat longer—then reached out and poked him lightly in the chest.

"One date," she said, mock-stern.

Frank caught her hand in his gently, holding it for a second longer than necessary.

"I’ll behave," he promised, voice low and sincere. "Scout’s honor."

Y/N rolled her eyes, but she was smiling. A real smile. One that made something warm and unbreakable light up in Frank’s chest.

“Promise me, this isn’t because of the divorce. You actually want to pursue this and not some mid-life crisis.” Y/N spoke softly.

Frank looked down at her hand in his and gave it a gentle squeeze. “I promise. I want you Y/N.” He said.

"Okay, Langdon," she said. "You’re on."

Frank grinned like an idiot.

And for the first time in what felt like forever, everything felt exactly right.

They didn’t kiss. Not yet.

Frank figured he could wait.

After all, he’d already waited this long.

What was a little longer, for something—someone—that might just be worth everything?

#imagine #imagines #the pitt imagine #the pitt #frank langdon imagine #dr frank langdon x reader #dr frank langdon imagine #frank langdon x reader #dr frank langdon #frank langdon

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vonbabbitt · 3 days ago

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ojima loredump from a couple years back i wrote for my staff

i can finally post more of these now yay. tw for ojima things

so ojima, as you may recall, was one of the OTHER people who was abused by a parent! hes also the youngest of three boys with his two older brothers being four and eight years older than him respectively! his family was pretty well-off financially and his dad had a pretty prominent position in the business world, so from the outside looking in, all was pretty good! except that by the time ojima was born, his parents' marriage was already in a rapid downward spiral and his brothers were already regularly seeing the fallout from this in the form of physical and verbal abuse. ojima was supposed to be the sort of "patch" that was meant to fix their marriage because his mom thought that having another kid would force ojimas dad to be more responsible/caring/present etc, except obviously that did not happen because having a new baby in the house just made things way more stressful. his parents ended up staying together regardless, but their relationship was constantly in turmoil and for the first few years of his life ojima grew up in pretty much the same environment as his brothers: abusive and socially high-pressure

enter ojimas uncle, his dad's brother and another fairly relevant man in the world of business. hes super friendly and the boys love him and hes fun to be around and ojima in particular is attached to him because when hes out with uncle kenji, theres no fighting or yelling or hitting and everything is cool and hes only three so he has no concept of the fact that this dude is getting……..a little bit too comfortable around him! so things eventually get to the point where his uncle is taking ojima on outings without his brothers present, and from there, things escalate, and ojimas relationship with his uncle very quickly becomes sexually abusive. ojima is THREE of course so he has no idea how fucked up this is but understands that he does not like it and does not want to be around his uncle anymore except that things dont stop there and nobody really finds out about it for another two years despite it being ongoing.

so at age five ojima is talking to his oldest brother, who is now thirteen (his name is tetsuya!) and has a total meltdown. he knows hes not supposed to tell people about what he does with his uncle but hes completely losing it and he trusts his brother. tetsuya, who actually understands whats happening and is pissed, thinks it wise to go to their dad, which does not end well! dad is pissed that theyd make accusations like that about his brother and refuses to indulge the idea that ojima could be telling the truth in any way. what ensues is his dad doubling down on the psychological abuse that ojima is going through at home, and for lack of a better term, basically gaslighting him into thinking that hes lying and everything is fine, despite the fact that shit with his uncle is STILL ACTIVELY HAPPENING at this age!

so by around age six, ojima has his first experience with blacking out. between what his uncle is doing, what his dad is doing, the fact that he cant even trust his own mind anymore and the pressure of having to present all this as being totally fine because of his family's social status, something in him just snaps and he completely dissociates. hes suddenly in this world in his head where nobody can hurt him, nothing bad can happen, and MOST IMPORTANTLY, he is completely in control. of everything. ojima has never, ever been in control and its something he becomes practically addicted to because its the only way he can feel safe. it goes from dissociating once at a particularly bad moment to dissociating constantly to escape how shitty his life is. when ojima turns ten, his brother moves out and its absolutely devastating for him because thats one of the only two people in the world he can trust. from that point he pretty much never sees him again. tetsuya does literally everything in his power to get ojima and their middle brother (his name is toshiharu!) out of that environment, but hes eighteen and hes not their parent and their dad has a lot of sway, so it doesnt amount to anything meaningful. ojima is told that his brother left because hes a shitty person and he hates their family and eventually he learns to internalize that and blames his confession and his supposed destruction of their family for tetsuya leaving and never coming back. the many many attempts for tetsuya to contact ojima and toshiharu go interrupted by their dad and the two dont speak again.

things basically continue with ojima being abused at home and at his uncle's until he turns fourteen, at which point the next big milestone is that toshiharu moves out and reconnects with tetsuya, and now the two are full steam ahead on getting ojima out of that environment. except that its still basically useless because they have no legal say over him and their dad is really powerful so everything is still mostly the same except that ojima is completely alone. hes dissociated a good 90% of the time at this point because hes just incapable of handling the absolute shitstorm of things happening to him. hes in a living hell and maladaptive daydreaming is basically his only escape and the only thing that keeps him going. because of this, hes seen as weird and stupid by other kids at school and is treated like shit there too. theres pretty much nothing left in his life that could be considered good or redeeming except for the two things he enjoys: daydreaming and drawing.

contact with his uncle starts to break off around age fifteen when his uncle starts losing interest due to ojima being older now. ojima gets tremendously fucked up over this, and while hes relieved that its not happening, his brain is so torn at this point that he gets caught in a sort of spiral of wondering why hes no longer desirable and why people keep leaving him, even when they're bad people that ojima doesnt want in his life. in this time between age fifteen and age seventeen, things start to improve slightly because his uncle isnt touching him and his dad isnt constantly brainwashing him to get him to forget about his uncle touching him so for this brief gap of time, he can almost live comfortably. he starts doing some freelance illustration work because his dad wants him to get a job and it turns out hes pretty damn good at it, and he enjoys it a lot, so he spends a lot of his time illustrating. hes mainly motivated by the fact that he wants to give other kids like him a beautiful and vivid place to escape to, so he depicts all these fantastical and whimsical worlds in kids' books to give them that same sort of escape that he needed. his brothers are still desperately trying to get in contact with him/get him out of their old house, but its been years by this point and all he knows is that they both decided to completely abandon him one day and never look back, something that he entirely blames himself for.

despite things getting a bit better for him, ojima basically never grows out of the daydreaming and it takes over his life to some degree, which honestly? its debatable whether its good for him or not. on one hand, its extremely disruptive to his life and is not a healthy coping mechanism by any means. on the other hand, it was literally the only thing that got him through the past ten years alive and continues to be his only escape from the shitty life he has. anyway ojima is sixteen now! the physical and psychological torment from his dad starts to transition into a more familial/patriarchal pressure at this point - tetsuya and toshiharu are gone and severed, which means ojima is the son thats going to take over his business one day. suddenly his dad is treating him like a grown man when hes ever only been treated like a doll for his entire life - now hes being taught about business and social policy and world affairs and all these things he isnt interested in and doesnt understand. he really just wants to draw and dissociate and pretend nothing bad is happening to him. except even though hes not being tormented anymore, things are not good! because he has, obviously, absolutely massive amounts of trauma that he is not coping with. instead of ever dwelling on this or addressing it, which arent really options for him anyway, he goes deeper and deeper into his own headspace to escape it and pretty much locks himself away in this dissociative world to ignore everything that isnt his own art.

then ojima turns SEVENTEEN and the world flips. his brothers finally manage to get their case in front of a judge and the ojima family business SINKS LIKE A ROCK. his parents are in jail, and hes suddenly out on his ass. his brothers scoop him up pretty fast and do their best to piece him back together, but ojima is absolutely fucked in the head by this point. he lives with tetsuya and toshiharu and continues working because he loves to work, but he seriously struggles to rebuild the relationship he once had with them because in his understanding, they hate him. thats what hes been told for years. they live in this very tense situation where his brothers desperately want to help him, but they are also traumatized and they do not know what to do for him because hes just an absolute mess. ojima bounces around the idea of therapy for a while and frequently registers for therapy/drops out/registers/drops out repeat repeat repeat because he knows his broken and he knows he needs help, but going to therapy means actually thinking about his past and what happened to him and he cant do that. its terrifying and it hurts and he just wants to be in his own headspace. it leads to a lot of very emotional conversations with his brothers who still just dont know what to do but desperately want to get him help somehow.

and then the killing game starts

#von.txt #tetro danganronpa pink #tetro pink #tetro danganronpa #tetro spoilers

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cinnxmxngxrl · 2 days ago

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“Halloween party”

pairing: dbf!Joel Miller x f!Reader

Masterlist here

Summary: You’re drunk and horny in a college halloween party and you want your dad’s best friend, Joel, to see the little devil costume you’re wearing.

WC: 4,4k

Warnings: smut, minors DNI, unprotected piv, car sex, dirty talk, age gap, oral (m!receiving), fingering, swallowing, creampie, pre outbreak, reader is a little drunk please don’t read if you’re not comfortable with it.

You already knew how much of a terrible idea this had been.

This was not your scene at all. Halloween night for you was meant to be popcorn and horror movies, curled up in bed. But there you were, in a little devil costume that left too little to the imagination, completely wasted, trying to find your friend, only to see her making out with some douchebag in a dark corner of the room.

The music and people’s shouts were loud, and mixed with the amount of alcohol in your blood, they made your head spin. The bass thudded through your chest like a second heartbeat, the room a blur of sweat-slicked bodies, flashing lights, and too much noise.

You were completely left alone, tipsy, having to get drunk guys’ hands off your body as you made your way to the bathroom.

Their breath reeked of liquor and cologne, and the leering eyes made your skin crawl. One guy had grabbed your waist like he owned it—you shoved his hand off, the heat of his fingers lingering in a way that made your stomach churn.

You stumbled into the bathroom around 1:47 AM, phone in hand, drunk and reckless and pulsing with need.

You sat down on the closed toilet lid and opened Facebook on your phone, scrolling down—

Until you saw Joel Miller’s new post.

It was a summer recap photo album: only a few nature pictures and a few innocent ones of him with his daughter, enjoying an evening at the lake. Except for the last one.

The last one was a picture of him shirtless. Not an intentional one, as if he purposely posed half-naked for the picture. No. He just casually appeared in the background, only in his swimsuit.

You almost dropped your phone to the floor when your shaky fingers went to zoom in on the picture.

Your breath caught, lips parting slightly, your heartbeat skipping a beat as you stared at the broad, sun-warmed expanse of his chest, the ripple of muscle beneath tanned skin, the faint salt-and-pepper trail disappearing under the waistband of his trunks.

Jesus fuck, that was one hot man, if you’d ever seen one. You felt the ache that started low in your belly and quickly spread down, straight to your core.

You could feel your cunt palpitating, and the dampness that started to gather in your panties. And that’s exactly what happened every single time you saw Joel Miller.

He’s been your father’s best friend ever since high school. You remember how you’d call him Uncle Joel when you were little. Back then he was safety, warmth, and comfort. The man who carried you on his shoulders at the county fair. The man who taught you how to ride a bike and brought you peppermint sticks every Christmas.

Well, that’s just a little fucked up, having in mind that now you were dying to fuck Uncle Joel.

You didn’t know exactly when it started—when you began to fantasize about Joel. Probably after you realized boys your age weren’t it. And that what you really wanted, really desired, was a grown man.

Not some stupid frat guy who didn’t even know what a clit was, much less where it was or how to touch it right.

No, you wanted a man with experience—experience with women, and experience in life. Someone you could learn from, not someone you had to teach.

A man just like Joel. You watched the zoomed-in photo: his ripped muscles—not from the gym, but from a life of hard physical work, of lifting heavy things and working until the sun went up.He was built from real effort, the kind that made you imagine the weight of his body pressing you into a mattress, his calloused hands gripping your hips with purpose.

You imagined how it would feel to run your hands all over his body, feeling the grey hair on his chest, going down to his stomach, even lower…

Fuck, you were pressing your thighs together so hard, and yet it was not nearly enough to relieve the ache you felt.

Truth is, you’ve been trying to fuck Joel for years now, ever since you were legal. You thought that wearing pretty sundresses and tighter little bikinis each year would help him fall for you.

Because any man would take the chance to fuck a young, pretty thing like you whenever he had the chance. But not Joel. He was so decent, so morally correct, such a good man that it drove you mad.

And it only made you want him more.

The way that he would look away whenever you bent down to pick up something you purposely let fall to the floor, letting him peek at your lacy panties. How he would clear his throat and pull away awkwardly whenever you hugged him and pressed your breasts against his chest, letting him feel all of you.

Because in some twisted way, you didn’t want just any pervy old man with a thing for young chicks. You wanted to corrupt Joel. Make him let loose and show him how good a young girl could make him feel.

The alcohol in your system made you do something stupid. Your fingers scrolled down your contact list until you found Joel.

And you pressed call.

You held the phone to your ear, swaying slightly in your heels, drunk and flushed and soaking wet between your legs.

He picked up on the third ring, voice rough and sleep-wrecked.

“…Darlin’?” Oh god, his voice was so sleepy and sounded even raspier than usual.

You had to suppress a little moan from escaping your mouth as you pressed your thighs together even harder.

“Hi, Joel,” you said.

There was a beat of silence, he could hear the loud music and conversations in the background.

“Where the hell you at? You alright?”

“At a party,” you said, dragging the words out. “M’fine. Just thinking about you.”

“Thinkin’ bout me?” he muttered. You could hear the sheets rustling, the weight of his body shifting. “It’s the middle’a the goddamn night. You been drinkin’?”

You smiled lazily. “Mhm.”

Joel cursed under his breath. “You need a ride or what?”

“Would you do that for me, Joel?”

Another heavy pause. “Just text me the damn address and I’ll be there in twenty.”

Twenty minutes later, you were sitting on the porch. Legs crossed. Lips glossy. Your little red dress riding dangerously high and your hair slightly messy, with the devil’s horns from your costume.

And your face lit up like Christmas when you saw him pulling up in front of you in his pickup truck.

“There he is,” you purred, stumbling a little as you stood. “My favorite old man.”

You saw the way his eyes flicked down your legs, quickly, before he looked away. Like the sight of you physically pained him.

“Get in,” he said from the driver’s seat.

You practically threw yourself into the passenger seat.

You could sense the way he was looking at you, at the way your nipples were hard under the soft fabric of the low-cut dress, how he could almost see your damp panties when your dress rolled up even more.

And Joel was trying to look away, distract himself with anything, so his now half-hard cock wouldn’t get fully hard.

“A devil, huh?” he said, touching the horns on your head.

“Mhm, tempting you to sin,” you said, giggling.

His jaw clenched. His fingers flexed on the wheel like he was fighting the urge to grab you.

Fuck. He was fully hard now.

He shifted uncomfortably in the seat before starting the engine and driving away.

“Party that bad?” he said, trying to make some conversation and distract himself from all the dirty, nasty thoughts he was having.

“Yeah, my friend ditched me five minutes after we arrived to go hook up with some dickhead.”

“And what about you?” he said, arching his brow. He was sure it wouldn’t be difficult for you to find a guy for yourself—hell, he was sure you’d be able to get any guy in that, or any other party, you wanted.

“I didn’t want to fuck any of those boys,” you said bluntly. “They all look like babies.”

He didn’t say anything right away—only groaned.

“Jesus, don’t say shit like that.” His voice dropped lower. Strained. Like he was battling himself with every word.

“Why not? It’s the truth.” You looked at him, batting your lashes. “Bet you’d take better care of me than any of those assholes.”

“Alright, that’s enough. Quit runnin’ your mouth.” he said under his breath, his heart beating fast. “You’re gonna get me into trouble.”

“Maybe you should put something inside my mouth to gag me.” You giggled, feeling as bold and reckless as ever. Your hand reached to palm him over his jeans—hard as rock and twitching instantly at your touch.

His body got stiff and he hit the brakes quickly, the truck stopping violently in the middle of the road. The force of it jolted you forward in the seat.

“Keep your damn hands to yourself,” he said as he yanked your hand from his bulge, pushing you to your seat with more force than necessary, “Sit back. Buckle up.” he grabbed the seatbelt and fastened it—as if to keep you from moving.

His breathing was ragged, nostrils flaring, and you could see the storm raging behind his eyes. Desire battling with guilt, morality against hunger.

He wouldn’t even look at you now. His breathing was labored, jaw clenched so tight you could see the muscle twitching.

He took one long breath and began to drive again, desperate to get to your house and leave you there, just so he could go home and take care of the big problem between his legs.

“Why should I keep them to myself? You’re hard, and I’m sure I can help you with that.”

You unfastened the seatbelt and knelt on the seat, your upper body pressed down, laying your head on his big thigh.

“Can I suck your cock in the truck?” you looked up at him.

“Enough.” His voice was strangled. His knuckles white around the wheel. “You’re drunk. You don’t mean none of that.”

“I might be drunk now, but I’m not when I touch myself thinking of you every single night.”

“You think this is funny?” he snapped. “Playin’ games like that? You’re a goddamn kid.”

“Oh come off it, Joel. I’m barely ten years younger than you, that’s practically nothing.”

“It’s over ten years,” he corrected you. “You call me drunk in the middle of the goddamn night, talkin’ like a fuckin’ pornstar, lettin’ me look at you dressed like that—”

His hand slapped the steering wheel. “Jesus fuckin’ Christ. I should take you straight home and tell your daddy what you been up to.”

“Be sure your boner is gone when you talk to my dad,” you teased him. “I don’t think he’d appreciate knowing how fuckin’ hard you get over his daughter.”

You chuckled at the way he was looking at you—anger in his eyes but lust behind them.

“I think you’re pissed off all the time ‘cause you wanna fuck me and you can’t.” you continued to tease him.

His jaw twitched. You were getting to him. Finally.

“I ain’t sayin’ it again,” he hissed, his voice shaking. “You don’t get it, do you? This ain’t no joke. This is serious. You’re my best friend’s daughter. You’re practically a kid—I was there the day you were born, for god’s sake, I held you when you were a baby. You’re—fuck, you’re not s’posed to look at me like that.”

“And now I’m a woman. One you wanna fuck. And one that’s desperately begging you to do it. So own it. Be a man and fuck me, Joel.”

He was breathing hard, looking at you like he didn’t know whether to throttle you or kiss you. Like the war inside him had reached its peak, fists clenched and jaw tight, every nerve screaming.

He stopped the truck in the middle of some deserted road and he surged forward, grabbing your face with both hands, and kissed you like he hated himself for it. Like he was drowning in it. His mouth crushed against yours, tongue pushing past your lips, tasting the alcohol on your breath.

His hand fisted in your hair, the other cupping your jaw like he needed to hold you in place, or else he’d break apart.

“Fuckin’ knew it,” he muttered against your mouth, hand sliding up your bare thigh. “Knew you’d be nothing but trouble. Knew I should’ve stayed the hell away.”

His hand made its way between your thighs and reached the edge of your panties. He felt the heat. The slick.

His breath hitched the moment he touched you, a low growl vibrating in his chest like a warning.

He growled. “Jesus, you’re soaked.” There was awe in his tone, disbelief, like you’d shattered something inside him just by wanting him this much.

“I saw the picture at the lake you posted and got like this,” you said. “What? You’ve never seen a girl this wet, Joel?”

He groaned like it physically hurt him, resting his forehead against yours for a second, breathing hard.

“I’m gonna take you home,” he muttered, voice rough. “Gonna put you in your bed, and then I’m gonna go jerk off in my truck like a fuckin’ lunatic.”

“No, you’re not. I need you too much, Joel,” you whispered, reaching for his belt. “Please, pretty please, Joel. I want it like you have no idea.”

He didn’t stop you when you undid the buckle. Didn’t stop you either when you reached into his jeans and wrapped your hand around him. His stomach flinched under your touch, a broken gasp escaping him, his whole body going tense like your fingers had struck a nerve.

His eyes fluttered shut. A soft, filthy growl escaped his throat.

“I swear to God,” he rasped, “if you don’t stop right now, I’m gonna fuck you in this truck.”

“Please do.” Your hand was still wrapped around him, thick and pulsing in your grip, and Joel hadn’t moved a muscle to stop you. His cock twitched in your hand like it agreed with you more than he dared to.

You pulled his cock out of the confinement of his jeans, and you almost whimpered when you saw it.

It was big, to say the least—you’ve never seen one quite that size in person. Only in the adult videos your friend had insisted you watch with her just for giggles.

“Oh my God, Joel,” you breathed out as you took in the sight of him—it looked obscene in the best way, thick and flushed and so hard it looked like it hurt, veins pulsing, wet pre-cum leaking from his tip. “It’s so big.”

“Called me up practically beggin’ for cock with your voice all slow and filthy like that. Now take care of it—it’s what you wanted, right?”

You let your mouth brush the head of his cock. A soft kiss. He twitched again, his hand clenching in the seat beside him, like he was trying to keep control.

“Come on, baby, show me how much you wanted me.”

You took him in your mouth. Warm. Wet. Slow at first—just the head, swirling your tongue around it, tracing that sensitive spot just beneath the ridge. He gasped, eyes rolling back, one hand flying to your hair.

“Shit… baby… killin’ me here,” he moaned. “That mouth—Jesus, such a talented mouth.” His words came out in pieces, half-groaned, half-worshipped.

You moaned around him, taking more, letting him slide deeper. Your lips stretched, jaw aching already from how big he was, but you didn’t care. You loved the way he filled your mouth, the way his dick twitched on your tongue, the way his whole body went rigid when you swallowed around him.

“Ngghh… Look at you. You look so good with my cock down your throat.”

You blinked up at him, eyes glassy and full of want, spit pooling at the corners of your lips.

You bobbed your head slowly, hand working the base where your mouth couldn’t reach, spit dripping down to your wrist. The messier and wetter, the better it felt for Joel. You wanted him to feel it. Every flick of your tongue. Every tight pull of your throat.

He was so sensitive, thighs were shaking, his voice breaking. “Stop, darlin’…please…gotta stop.” You could hear it in his tone—he didn’t want to stop. He just didn’t want to lose control.

You looked up, lips swollen around his cock, and moaned again.

Joel’s grip tightened in your hair. His hips started to move, tiny thrusts, shallow but desperate. He was fucking your mouth, slow and helpless, trying not to lose it too fast.

“Gonna cum,” he gasped. “Fuck…I’m gonna—shit, baby—”

You sucked harder, hollowing your cheeks. Taking him deeper, even when it made your eyes water. You wanted to ruin him. You needed to.

“You wanna swallow it? Gonna swallow every drop like the good little girl you are?”

You nodded frenetically. And then he came. Hard. A broken shout. His whole body tensed as he spilled down your throat.

Hot and thick ropes of his cum, tasted a little salty but so good just ‘cause it belonged to him. It was so much, but you swallowed every drop, not even flinching.

When you finally pulled off him with a soft pop, Joel was wrecked. Panting. Sweating. Staring down at you like he couldn’t believe what just happened.

You wiped your mouth with the back of your hand, smirking.

“Get in the back,” he muttered under his breath.

You didn’t hesitate. You climbed into the back seat, the leather cold on your thighs, knees already trembling with anticipation. Your tiny dress rode up higher, exposing lace panties soaked through at the center.

Joel followed. He didn’t even shut the front door. Just crawled into the back after you, big and hulking, like something unchained. His hands were on you immediately, yanking the dress up over your hips, gripping your thighs so hard you whimpered.

He pushed your legs open with both hands, groaning at the sight of how wet you were.

“All this for me, huh? At some college party, dressed like a slut, callin’ me up talkin’ filth ‘cause you didn’t want any of those stupid pricks, you wanted me.”

You nodded, lips parted, breath hitched. Shivering at the raw hunger in his voice.

He slapped the inside of your thigh, sharp and hot. “Use your words.”

“Yes,” you gasped. “I wanted you. I want you so bad, Joel.”

He let out a sound like a snarl and pulled your panties to the side. He made a little noise, almost a whimper.

“What is it? When was the last time you’ve seen a cunt this pretty?”

“Jesus fuckin’ Christ,” he muttered. “You’re so beautiful, ain’t got the slightest clue.”

Two thick fingers slid right through your slick folds, parting you. He hissed through his teeth. His pupils blown wide, jaw clenched like he was in pain.

He teased you with his fingers, barely dipping into your entrance, just enough to make you shake. Every nerve in your body stood on edge, begging for more.

“J-Joel… please,” your voice breaking.

“You need this cock that bad, huh? Don’t worry, babygirl, I’ve got you. I’m just gonna stretch you out a little first.” He shoved two fingers in, and you choked on a gasp. Thick. Rough. Curling just right. “Gotta make sure you can take it.”

Your back arched off the seat. “Oh—f-fuck—!”

“Yeah, that’s it. You’re so tight and it’s only my fingers, you’re squeezing them like crazy,” he grunted, working you open, watching your face with fire in his eyes, like it was his religion

“Look at you. Bet none of those little college boys know how to make you squirm like this.”

“N-no… ah… t-they can’t,” you gasped, fingers clutching the seat. “They don’t know anything.”

“All them boys in that house, drunk little shits. Could’ve had any of ‘em. But you called me.”

He kissed you again, hard and messy, all teeth and tongue, swallowing your moans like he couldn’t get enough. His fingers never stopped pumping. He curled them just right and you cried out against his mouth.

“This pussy’s a fuckin’ dream,” he muttered. “Come on, baby, cum for me, and then I’ll give you my cock.”

His thumb began to circle your swollen clit, and you saw stars. He fastened his pace, merciless, single-minded, with the only goal of making you feel the biggest pleasure you could experience.

“I’m… I’m close, Joel… p-please don’t stop.”

You let a loud moan, shattering from the force of your orgasm. Head thrown back. Fingers clutching the seat leather. Crying out his name like a prayer.

“Fuck, that was beautiful,” he muttered, pulling away just enough to breathe against your cheek. “Think you’re ready to take me now?”

“Y-yes… I want your cock inside me.”

Joel sat up on the back seat. “Get in my lap.”

You scrambled over, straddling him. He grabbed your ass and pulled you against him, hard cock sliding against your soaked folds.

“No condoms,” he gritted.

“I don’t care,” you whispered, rolling your hips. “Wanna feel you. Want you to cum in me, Joel.”

That was it.

You barely had a second to breathe before he was lining himself up, grabbing your hips and…

“Fuck—” he groaned as he sank in, slow but deep. Pushing inside you in one hard thrust. You cried out, nails digging into his shoulders, your whole body going tight around him. The stretch burned in the best way, he was big, thick, and deeper than anything you’d had before. It felt almost like your first time, and in a sense, it was—your first time with a real man.

Joel grabbed your hips and guided you, panting against your neck, voice wrecked. His hands trembled just slightly, like he couldn’t believe you were real, like you were the most beautiful and precious thing in the world, and for some unknown reason you were letting him have the privilege of fucking you.

You felt the tears pooling at the corners of your eyes. Every inch of him, dragging against your walls, filling you like nothing ever had. He bottomed out and held still, panting against your neck.

“You’re doing so good, baby,” he cut off with a strangled sound. “So fuckin’ tight, so goddamn wet… oh, this cunt feels like heaven.”

“Ngggh… J-Joel,” you whimpered. “I-It’s too big.”

“Relax… You’re taking it so good for me,” he said. “I’ve got you.”

You moaned, fucking yourself down onto him, your dress bunched around your waist, heels still on. The truck rocked, the windows fogging thicker with every bounce of your hips. The air was heavy with sweat, lust, and the scent of sex.

“This pussy was made for me, huh?”

“Yes,” you gasped, wrapping your arms around him. “It’s yours, Joel. Always been yours.”

He growled low in his throat and pulled out, only to slam back in—hard. You saw stars.

Your cry cracked in your throat, your whole body arching into him.

Then again. And again.

Joel kissed you like he was starved, and you bit his bottom lip, tugging.

“Harder,” you whispered. “Fuck me like you mean it.”

Joel growled and started thrusting up into you. The sound of slick skin slapping and your whimpers filled the truck like music. His hands were everywhere—gripping your thighs, your ass, your hair. His mouth was on your neck, sucking bruises, biting softly, marking you.

“I should be ashamed,” he gritted. “Should hate myself for wantin’ this. For wantin’ you.”

“But you don’t,” you whispered, dazed and breathless. “You love it.”

“You love that I wanted you,” you went on, voice a broken moan. “You love that I called you instead of some college boy. That I made myself yours.”

He pulled out suddenly and flipped you over. You yelped, hands bracing against the seat, ass in the air. He yanked your panties all the way down this time, tossed them somewhere, and slammed back in from behind. This angle felt deeper. Brutal. Relentless.

Joel’s hand came down hard on your ass, and you cried out.

“That what you needed, baby?” he snarled. “Needed to be fucked like a little whore in the back of my truck? Needed this old man to fuck you stupid?”

“Yes!” you sobbed. “God, yes, Joel—don’t stop—don’t stop—!”

His hand wrapped in your hair, tugging your head back so he could growl in your ear. “Not stoppin’ ‘til you’re fuckin’ ruined.”

He fucked you until your voice was hoarse from screaming his name. Your thighs trembled and your vision blurred. You felt another climax approaching, and you came again, this time around him with a cry so loud it drowned out everything else.

“Ah…ah, baby, don’t squeeze me like that…I can’t hold— I’m gonna cum,” he breathed. “Gonna cum inside you, fill you up, let you leak all over those pretty thighs”

He wrapped both arms around you and spilled inside you with a deep, broken moan, growling your name like a man who’d been starving for years—he didn’t pull out, didn’t even try. His whole body shook. You held his head close, whispering how good he felt, how full you were, how much you wanted it.

He just stayed there, breath hot against your back, hips twitching, filling you full, thrusting a few more times just to fuck his cum deep inside your pussy, not letting one drop go to waste.

For a long time, the only sound in the truck was panting. The occasional shaky breath. His palm, warm and wide, soothing up and down your spine like he didn’t know how to let go.

“Fuck.”

You laughed, breathless. “Yeah.”

He pulled you into his lap, arms wrapping around you tight. The only sound was the ticking of the cooling engine and your slow breaths. Joel’s hand still locked in the curve of your thigh. His chest rose and fell like he’d just finished running, eyes glazed as he stared through the fogged windshield, not seeing a damn thing.

You were still in his lap. Dress wrinkled, panties around one ankle, his release sticky between your thighs.

“You okay?” his voice was soft. “I think… I was too rough, I’m sorry, you felt too goddamn good and it’s been so long since—”

“Don’t.” You smiled lazily and leaned in to kiss the corner of his mouth. “It was amazing… fuck, you made me cum twice,” you chuckled, as if you couldn’t believe it.

He didn’t smile. Didn’t speak. Just let his hand move slowly over the back of your thigh, tracing your skin like he was trying to memorize it.

Finally, he said, “You shouldn’t’ve called me. And i shouldn’t’ve come.”

You kissed his neck. “But I did call you, and you did come.”

His hand tightened suddenly on your thigh, and his voice dropped lower. “This ain’t somethin’ I can walk away from anymore.”

“Then don’t.”

“Your costume makes a lot of sense, y’know?” There was a low chuckle behind it, half-amused, half-kickin’ himself.

He looked at you—really looked—and something in his face softened, like he was scared of what he wanted and wanted it anyway.

“C’mon,” he murmured. “Let’s get you home before I do somethin’ even dumber.”

A/N: heey, first of all, if you reached this point, thank you so much for reading. I began posting the fics I write here without expecting much but y’all are so kind and you literally make my day whenever you comment or reblog saying something nice. So thank you for putting a smile on my face. I hope you enjoyed this one🫶🩷

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ruinix · 1 day ago

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can dark quinn fuck reader while she's asleep?

Lovely, hey there. So. Um.. dark!quinn...just a lil thot, okay? 😶‍🌫️🫣 First, lil confession, I wanna be claimed just like that y'know. Yes, I am a whore. Anyway...this is more of a ramble. My head is a mess. Also...don't ask if it's gotten too long. This did not happen.

Don't come for me. This is truly dark. You've been warned.

Whore thoughts. Dark. Deranged behavior. Somnophilia. Non-con. Drugging. Manipulation. This is dark, y'all. Dark. Dark!!! ⬇️⬇️⬇️

You were always a heavy sleeper. Sure, you had troubles sleeping, but once you were out, you were out. Quinn knew that. He would be a bad boyfriend if he didn't.

Afterall, he was the one who always woke up first for his early practice, the one who tried to pry your vice-like grip every time, the one who tried banging the cabinets during the morning to make sure, to constantly test your sleep. The one who touched your pussy through your panties until your arousal slicked it, until soft moans escaped your lips.

Then came the problem. You would rouse, stirring then slowly wake up, before he could make you come, before he can further his debauchery. Fucking always.

You would be so confused, too sleep drunk, too innocent that you would just assume Quinn's cuddling you.

Even for so long, you never put two and two together. Not a clue with his touches. With his lack of care that he never asked for your consent through these acts. Well, why would he need such a thing when he owned you? Every single fiber of your being was his.

Your body that could no longer reach the heights of an orgasm without his touch. The amount of times you came running towards him with tears of frustration in your eyes because no matter what you do--no matter what toy or technique--you couldn't come. The amount of times you called him whining while he was on a road trip because you got so horny yet you couldn't do a single fucking thing to help yourself.

Your mind that couldn't choose anything for yourself. Always seeking his opinion. Before, you would just go out with your friends whenever you like. Now, you preferred staying home just because Quinn planted seeds of doubt about your friends not being good for you, about them only using you because of how sweet you were, which were all not false. They were using you to get to him. You were so naive to see through their elaborate trap, so Quinn easily manipulated the circumstances that you had to break off the friendships. You didn't need them anyway. Not when you have him.

Not all of your friends were using you though. Some were good. Too good, too fucking nosy, trying to get you to see how twisted he was. Quinn can't have that so he got rid of them too. Threats. Blackmail. He did it all, making you think they just dropped you, which made you all the more needy for his company.

Your soul that sang with his. So bright and innocent when you stared at hum like he hung the moon. So adorable when he fucked you so hard that he left you sore for days with bruises painting your neck, your hips, your thighs, and everywhere else. Still, you looked at him with heart-shaped eyes.

You've been such a perfect girl to love, fuck, and manipulate. So perfect, really. Except you kept waking up when it was about to be more interesting. When he was about to consume you in a different fucking level. When all he wanted was for you to come around him while you were still in dream-fucking-land. Was that too much of an ask?

So Quinn moved.

He took his time researching things that would keep you asleep. He acted like a damned insomniac, going to a shrink and telling him he needed something to help him sleep, expertly twisting the truth, emphasizing he needed something to get him to sleep throughout the night. It was so easy. One trip to the pharmacy, he got his prescription along with bottles of melatonin and magnesium.

Getting you to drink the supplements was simple. Your eyes were twinkling as you take it as him being concerned with you. You happily take them. No questions. Not a single doubt or concern. You just take and take. Everything he gave you.

Quinn was always patient. Always bidding his time. He won't use his supposed prescription yet. Touching and testing if the supplements were enough. They were not. Therefore, he used them, telling you he saw a better additional supplement.

He waited and waited for your protest, even a question on what the fuck it is because one would normally ask, but alas, you said:

"Okay."

Then you grinned at him with such innocence that Quinn wondered how on earth did you survive this cruel world. No matter. He was here to keep you safe from anything else but him. He loved the pureness you offer. So pure that he must corrupt.

He watched. Within minutes, you were out like a light. Your body was in a supine position under the blankets, your chest moving with your every breath. Like a princess. His very own sleeping beauty.

One tug, the sheets were off. He could see the goosebumps on your skin, your nipples hardening under your silk night gown. He ran his hands over your thighs, spreading them, pushing the fabric up and up and up, exposing your lace panties. Slowly, he touches your clothed pussy, feeling along your folds, teasing your clit down to your entrance and back up.

Soft. You were so soft and getting so drenched. The need to smell you overtook him, not giving a shit anymore if the drug would actually keep you asleep. He just hooked one thigh over his shoulder, pressing his nose on your pussy and smelled you feminine musk. So divine as he started to lick over the lace.

Just one taste and he lost it. Like a feral beast who had not eaten for days, he licked and sucked and nipped, almost laughing as he heard your little whines, preening at how your hips jerked so slightly. Then he stared right at your face, waiting for you to wake but you didn't. Fuck yes.

He could barely think straight anymore. He tore your panties, slapping his cock against your quivering pussy, rubbing himself on you until he was coated by your arousal as his pre-cum dripped down his length. The way your thighs twitched, your eyebrows frowning, your barely there 'hmmm'. Everything etched in his brain. As he slowly sank his cock into your pulsing heat.

He fucked you slowly. Every thrust was full and deep. Your tits moved, bouncing, luring him in for a taste, so he indulged. Using his teeth to tug the neckline of your nightgown then he sucked your pebbled peak. One by one. he could feel your walls spasming for a mini orgasm. So adorable.

Your troubled moans filled his brain. He could basically feel your body trying to wake up, could feel the dream your mind was showing you. He was also fucking you in your dream, wasn't he? How hard was he going? Were the pathetic sounds coming out of you supposed to be your pleas to fuck you harder?

He supposed they were. What else could they be? You were always such a slut. It must be maddening for you not to get what you wanted.

"I know, my love. I know," he whispered in your ear, groaning when your pussy squeezed so tight around him that he almost came. "Let's take our time, okay? Fuck. We got the whole night."

It didn't matter to Quinn if he had to wake up for a morning skate. He would take his fucking time. He was already so fucking confident that his team would win. They always seemed to win whenever he touched you during your sleep. Now that he was fucking you, maybe it could be an easy victory. Fuck, he hoped it would be. Even if they lose, there was no way he wouldn't do this again.

Languidly, his rolled his hips as his hands gripped your hips wider, opening you up.

Then he started to get rougher. His hips bucking into you to claim you brutally. He wanted you to be so confused why you're so sore in the morning, wanted you to feel so horrified about the new kiss marks he was leaving all over your chest, your collarbone, your neck. He wanted to see you panic when you see the handprint bruises on your thighs.

Those images of you all rattled and horrified filled his mind. He couldn't stop smiling as he pressed down your lower abdomen, his thumb softly rubbing circles around your clit until you come so hard, your lips parting, yet you didn't wake up. He kept whispering praises into your ear, chuckling at the little sniffles coming out of you because he wouldn't stop his thrusts, wouldn't stop playing with your sensitive clit.

"Give me another one, my Love. Just one. Then we'll stop," he teased into your lips, kissing you without care even if you didn't kiss back. It was exactly how he wanted. Just you in the palm of his hands. Just you being fucked by him because he could. Just like his very own sex toy. "I promise."

He lied and lied and lied.

He wouldn't stop.

Why would he?

He could only grip your skin, short nails digging into your tender flesh. When you came again, he did too, spurting deep into your pussy, kissing and licking your neck, praising you over and over again. He took his time to recover. Then he would do again and again. The same fucking lie would escape his lips.

His sweat would drip down your sweaty body. His cum would be pooling under your ass. Your pussy would be red and raw from overuse. Your skin would be marked by bruises already darkening, reddening. He would be so greedy at the sight of you not waking up. Totally under his mercy. The night wouldn't be over yet he was already planning the next time to do this.

He tried to stop at least. He was getting too exhausted after a couple of hours of partaking you. Hell, he almost fainted after he came so hard, but he couldn't. He needed more and more. He could only turn you both sideways, lazily fucking into you. His cum would already become too watery, too diluted, too spent.

He would only stop when he could no longer give you anything. Still, he couldn't be satiated. He would crawl down your body to start cleaning you with his tongue. Tasting the mix of your cum and his. Smelling what he has done. It was all so divine.

He did his best with the clean up. He replaced your nightgown and panties, wiped away the sweat. Even managed to change the fucking sheets with his shaky legs.

After tucking you in with his arms around you, he passed out. Only to wake up the next fucking hour. It was time to fucking work. Work he did, grinning and laughing to himself when you called midday, sobbing because your body fucking ached.

Sorry. This is nothing but a figment of your imagination, i fear. I didn't write this. The parasites in my head did. They were having a protest because I was reading an extremely wholesome romance fantasy book. They needed something dark so they took over my keyboard. 🤧😔

-> more thoughts? List.

#sorry if it's all over the place #ruinix answers #ruinix thinks #this didn't happen #quinn hughes x you #quinn hughes x reader #quinn hughes blurb #quinn hughes fic #quinn hughes imagine #quinn hughes drabble #quinn hughes smut #nhl x reader #smut #dark #dark quinn #quinn hughes #qh43 #qhughes

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yunzyoi · 2 days ago

Text

𝐂𝐚𝐧'𝐭 𝐇𝐞𝐥𝐩 𝐌𝐲𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟 (s.jy)

[NSFW] Can't Help Myself - jake x f!reader

𓂃۶ৎ [ 제이크] You and your boyfriend are very close and both have a very healthy relationship. He's very attentive despite having a busy schedule as an Idol. You always tell each other everything like open books in front of each other. But you keep one secret from him.

٠࣪⭑ cw/tags: smut, dom!jake who likes to tease and sub, needy, desperate f!reader. established relationship. stright up porn, face riding, fingering, masturbation, unprotected sex, rough sex, dirty talk, soft overstimulation, p in v, multiple orgasms, a little humilation? pussy eating, teasing, squirting, fluff, aftercare, mdni.

٠࣪⭑cw: 5.5k

where your boyfriend finds out you've been reading unholy things about him! (˶˃ ᵕ ˂˶)

୨ৎ

If there was something you loved to do was to scroll on Twitter to see what your boyfriend was doing. It wasn't in a controling way, more in a teasing way. You loved saving certain tweets just to tease him or make fun of him later. Today wasn't the exception. Jake was out with the members, bowling or something, he mentioned in the morning.

You opened the Twitter app as you laid in your bed, having your own fan account and all, with lots of followers and mutuals that would never imagine who's sleeping by your side every single night. You scrolled, interacting with some posts from now and then but nothing really getting your attention. Your stomach flips when you see it: a little ad. an app. an app you knew very well. Tumblr. It brought the memories back immediately and made you bite your lips, nervously, indecisive.

The Twitter app almost closed by itself because of how fast your fingers moved across your screen to find it. There it was, the app that held all your fantasies for years. You closed your eyes. Not only because the thought of it was incredibly embarrassing but because you've had it for a while now, behind Jake's back.

You installed again about a month ago, with a solid, healthy purpose. But oh, when you logged back into your old account and all those fantasies recieved you, you couldn't help it. You read through it, Jake was out that day. Your cheeks burned when you saw all the new filthy things your boyfriend's fans were writting, some accurate, some total delusion, and some a little tempting. But the thing is, you kept doing it, coming back to that app whenever you found yourself alone, sometimes out of boredoom, sometimes just to chill but always ending in the same situation: getting yourself off to fantasies of your own boyfriend.

You scrolled.

Carefully, calculating, keeping it together, for now.

A title catched your attention That Damn Nose. Your stomach did the thing, that delicious little feeling, making you squeeze your thighs togethet. God, you were so embarrassed. But you couldn't help it, you clicked on it, hands a little shaky, and you start reading. You knew you shouldn't be doing it. It was stupid, and you knew you didn't need all this fantasy when the man was literally yours. But your fingers almost moved by themselves.

It happened the same way a month ago, like your hands were possessed. And it kept happened, multiple times after that, just like today. Something would remind you the app was there, that your little fantasies were in that cute little box. All with your boyfriend's name on them. You bite your lip, you miss him.

You keep going, you can feel your own body heating up at the thought of your own boyfriend doing what he was doing in that fanfiction. You whined, softly, almost inaudible, like a prayer, followed by a gasp. You laid back, arching your back a little, your eyes glued to your screen. Shivering, shaking, whining softly. The mere thought of Jake touching you right now burned you from inside out. You squeezed your thighs, fighting it, thinking you could just wait til he was back to seduce him and make him fuck you good without telling him the reason you were so desperate.

But you were way more desperate than you thought. Jake knew this about you, you were so damn sensitive and needy for him. God, you wanted him to be here right now, why was he out with the members anyway. You read a little more, oh the writting was so good and so fucking accurate. That little fan was describing Jake so well, rough but soft, hungry, wild. He was just like that, with you, because he was yours. And it makes you blush even more, the fact that you've been doing this behind his back, for no reason, when he's out, when you miss him, when you need him. Knowing you could just call him, knowing his voice would get you off in seconds.

"God." You whine softly and your hand slides down to your tits, nipples perking, small and soft. "God, Jake—"

You try, you really do try to ground yourself. You could wait, you could just sit there and wait for your man to be back. He'd give it to you with no hesitation. But you're a needy little thing. You can't wait, you can't help yourself. Your hand slides down, before you know it, sliding under the waistband of your shorts and you hiss at the wetness. You're soaked and so are your panties.

So easy, so sensitive, so needy and desperate. No, you can't wait for him, you never can. You need it now. You're halfway the fanfiction, in the middle of the scene where Jake is eating the reader out like a fucking animal, just like you know he would in real life. You arch your back at the tought of it and finally pull your panties to the side, caressing your clit. You moan, loud, no one will hear you.

"Oh, God." You moan again caressing the little bud. You were so wet, so sticky, so perfectly ready for him. You wanted to call him and rush him home, a part of you wanted to wait for him but the needy whore in you just wanted to cum. Your fingers slide down your folds, easily, with a little obscene sound that only turns you on more. Your lashes flicked, wanting to read a bit more. The mere mention of his nose made your stomach flip deliciously again and you shove your fingers in, moaning loud.

Warm, so warm and wet, and thight for him.

"Oh Jake! Yes, yes, yes." You whisper, so fucking lost in the feeling.

You push another finger in, deeper, curling both of them, hitting that sweet spot Jake likes to hit when he's the one using his fingers on you. And again, the memory makes you arch your back, gasping, chocking on a moan. You can't read anymore, your hand is moving desperately, dumbly chasing for that high. Your fingers move fast, deep, desperate, moaning, gasping, dropping your phone and fisting the bedsheets. His name escapes your lips again, and again, and again.

So good, so damn good, not him, but still so good.

"Jake, baby— I miss you." You say desperately, like he could hear you. "Oh, please." You beg, like you always do for him. Imagining his reaction, knowing he goes feral when you beg him to make you cum, when you beg him to move, to go faster, to go deeper. It hits you like a fucking tidal wave. The orgasm. Making your legs shake, cursing through it.

"Oh, fuck!" You say, shaking. You remove your hand from your shorts, fingers wet in your cum and your forearm cramping. "Lord..." You whisper to yourself, staring at the cieling, blushing. "Dumb." You murmur in a whisper, spent, squeezing your legs like your pussy haven’t had enough of it.

Your body tenses when you hear the door open. You have no time to react before Jake is walking in. You quickly hide your phone under your pillow but he sees you, he's fast, he doesn't let anything slide, not with you.

"Hey baby," he says, casual, sweet, lovely, but he can sense something is wrong. He raises an eyebrow. "What are you doing?"

"Nothing, just reading." You try to sound calm, but you know he can hear the little roughness in your throat from moaning his name just monutes ago.

"Yeah?" He hums walking towards the bed. "What were you reading, mmh?" He sits at the edge of the bed looking down at you. You stare back, taking in his pretty features, those brown eyes that are slowly darkening, and those round pink lips, and that damn nose. "I'm talking to you, baby"

You snap out, a knot in your throat. He places his hand on your thigh. Oh, fuck. You shiver, not usual, not if you're in your normal state. He smirks. Oh, he knows, he might not know what you were reading but he for sure knows what you were doing. He knows you too well for your own good.

"Missed me, baby?" He asks, cocky, smirking like he owns you. And he does.

You nod, why would you lie. You know lying to him about this is useless when he can see the way you squeeze your thighs together, how your hips rolled up slightly when his hand moved higher, and that damn blush in your cheeks.

"Oh, my love, doing it all by yourself?" He says, fake pitty. His hand moves a little higher, you gasp and he smirks wider, the corner of his lips curling up in that attractive way that drives you insane.

"Did you cum?" He asks bluntly and you nod. He tsked, disapproval. You know he doesn't like it when you touch yourself all alone. "Without me, baby?"

"I'm sorry" You say softly, feeling small. You knew him, he wasn't gonna let this slide. "I couldn't help it"

"Oh yeah?" His thumb draws circles on your thigh. "You must've been so desperate, baby, so wet, mmh? Like always, so wet for me." And you nod, shamelessly. He had this weird control over you. You couldn't lie to him at all. "What got you so wet, baby?" He asked biting his lip. "What could possible turn my girl in such a little mess when I'm not even home?"

He reaches for your phone under the pillow, almost not giving you time to react but you grab his hand. "Jake" You warn. "Hands off." He warns harder, making you weak, but you keep holding his hand back. "Jake I—"

"I said hands off, didn't I? Mmh?" God he was so strong without getting physically involved.

"Baby, don't, please." You beg, but his eyes are hard on you.

"I'm not gonna ask twice." His voice isn't hard though, it's soft, way too soft and still having a heavy pull on you. You hands weaken a little and his finally reaches your phone, briging it up to his face. Your face burned, God, he was reading it, all the filthy things you had in there. He sticked out his tongue, biting it against his lower lip whike the corners of his lips curled up. Fuck, the view only made your body heat up again.

He hummed, the sound going straight to your pussy, pulsating, making you squeeze your thighs. "Oh baby, you know you could call me when you miss me and I can make you feel good." He chuckles. "Why this instead?"

"I—I couldn't help it." You say softly.

"Just like always." He finishes. "You couldn't help it, you had to get off while reading horny fanfictions about me, huh" He teased, God, you wanted to smack him. "How wet?"

"Huh?"

"How wet are you. I know you're probably soaked, you always are for me." And he was so right. "Let me see" He doesn't let you do anything, his hand is already sliding in your shorts, making you gasp instantly. Silence, like he's in shock, but he isn't really, he's just extremely turned on now. "Jesus. You're fucking dripping." You hiss, because he presses his finger on your entrace through the fabric of your panties.

"Lord, baby, do you want me to eat you out that bad?"

You whine at his words, unable to hold back anymore when his hand is shoved in your shorts and that cocky smirk is on his face. "I asked you a question" His finger presses harder and you arch your back but he uses his free hand to hold your hips down.

"Baby I was just— I'm sorry, I missed you, yes, I—"

"Couldn't help it." He finishes your sentence. "Like the little filthy thing you are for me. Always so wet, not able to walk around me without getting every pair of panties that you own soaked."

You moan. You moan because he was right. You were a mess around him, couldn't control it, he had that effect on you. One look, one slight touch, and your pussy was already soaking your underwear. He knew you, he knew how sensitive and desperate you were and how easy it was to turn you on.

"You still want more." He whispers. "It isn't enough, huh" He leans. Fuck his scent, that damn expensive perfume he recently bought. He notices how he affects you and chuckles mockingly. "You're so pretty when you're this sensitive." He licks his lips, biting them. "I bet you want me to move my fingers" He says it with a mocking tone, teasing you but he doesn't move them. "Oh I bet you want me to shove them inside your precious pussy, mmh? I bet you want them deep, soaked in your own juices"

Your stomach flips at his dirty talk, you loved when he talked dirty. You arch your back again trying to move your hips against his fingers but he doesn't let you. "But do you even deserve that? Do you think you deserve that treatment from your boyfriend when you were jerking off to fanfictions of him?" He drags the words, really driving you insane, you little composure runing out. "I guess you could just read those and get off..."

You hold onto his shoulders gasping softling, almost sobbing. "Jake, baby, don't do this" You beg him like it's the end of the world the fact that he's deciding whether touching you or not. "I just missed you, baby, please, please...I won't do it ever again"

Jake stays silence, fuck he loved to see how down bad youwere for him. There's fire in his eyes. "How desperate" He says, chuckling and leaning lower, his nose nuzzling your cheek. "So cute when you beg"

"Jake—"

"Shhh" He nuzzles your jaw, his hand still in your shorts, not moving, torturing you. "Tell me, out of all those fantasies you got in that app, which one you want me to do the most right now"

Jesus, his question got you literally shaking. He noticed and pressed a kiss to your jaw. "Easy, I'm not doing anything yet"

"Baby— Go down, please" You say, tripping at your words, agitated, needy, digging your nails in his shoulders.

"I do that almost all the time, princess" He says smirking, chuckling.

"Please, Jake, I need it" You beg softly, still feeling his hand in your shorts but not moving it.

"God, you have a thing for it, don't you?" He buries his face in your neck, pressing kisses on your neck, not soft, wet. His tongue draging around that portion of your skin, making you whine. "You love having my face in between your legs, mmh? You love it when my nose and tongue do all the job"

"Jake, please." You beg again. "Please." So soft, so sweet, melting him.

"Fuck, asking so nicely, my love." He says and kisses your chest. "So good for me, mmh?"

You arch your back again. If his dirty talk wasn't enough to turn you on, there was his gentle dirty talk. When he said filthy things in your ear in the most lovely tone, gentle and sweet like he was talking about love. That drove you insane every single time.

Jake moves quick after that, pulling out his hand, his fingers tugging on your shorts and panties, taking them both off in one go. He looked down at how you squeezed your legs.

"Oh look at you" He says, laughing softly. "So fucking desperate"

"Jake—" You're about to beg when he forces your legs open with his hands. Pussy exposed, glistening with your recent orgasm, almost dripping into the bedsheets.

"Jesus" He whispers. His mouth waters, his eyes sparkling. His favorite treat on earth, all messy for him. Right in front of him. "Fuck, baby— Oh God"

If there was something that made Jake weak was your pussy. Jake ate you out like a god. He ate your pussy like it was oxygen for him, like he needed to survive, like an animal, starving, wild, desperate. Just like you had a thing for his nose, he had a thing for your pussy. Perfect match, some would say.

He leans, immediately smelling your arousal, it killed him in the best way. His tongue darts out, hanging, making your legs shake in anticipation. He presses a kiss on your clit, his hair teasing and tickling your thighs. He hums, sending vibrations through your body. You whine softly, his tongue sliding up and down your wet folds. His lips wrap around your clit, already swollen and sensitive from your first orgasm and you let out a sharp moan. Your hand reaching out, your fingers wrapping in his hair.

Jake moans against your pussy, satisfied, like he was the one receiving. He loved eating your pussy. There was not a single time he would refuse. Ever. You arch your back whispering his name breathless when you feel his tongue in your entrace. His tongue goes in. Warm, deep, while his sharp nose presses on your clit. It drives you insane, making you pull on his hair. He groans at the pain that only adds to the preassure building up in his pants.

"I could do this forever" He murmurs, you can barely hear it but you know that's what he said. "Fuck, come here"

Jake pulls back, you can see his hardness in his pants, his cock straining, begging to be freed. But his attention is all on your pussy right now. He pulls you up by your wrist and lays down. You immediately get the hint and crawl on him. He looked so good beneath you. Your heart pounding has you carefully lower yourself. He's too impatient. His tongue darts out, waiting, while his hands go to your hips and his fingers dig in your flesh with such a force that both of you are sure it will leave bruises.

He can't wait, like a starved dog. He pulls you down on him, making you fully sit, putting all your weight on his face. You moan, feeling his nose rub on your swollen clit.

"Oh, Jake—" You moan sharply unable to control the movement of your hips. You start rolling them on his face, grinding, feeling his wet tongue fucking your hole and his nose sliding in between your folds.

You loved riding his face. Something so attractive and sinful in the way he looked up at you while he was laying down. He had a fire in his dark eyes like he wanted to devour you whole. Your hips shift, like a jolt of electricity was cursing through your body. Oh you're so close to mess up that pretty face of his and he knows it because he doubles up his efforts.

His hands hold you down, pressing you against his face and helping you rub. Your moans become sharper, talking a little nonsense, you're at the verge of your orgasm and you forget that what your riding is his face. Your hips move at a desperate rate on his face, not gentle, rough on him, chasing it, until you do and it's the best feeling you both have felt. Your body almost collapses but he rolls you over, staying between your legs and laps up all your cum, licking you clean.

"Fuck, baby, you taste like fucking heaven." He murmurs breathy and presses his face on your pussy. Not moving or doing anything, just resting his face against it like your pussy is his comfort place. You caress his hair a little. He loved that. "You did so good" He says softly and your body shivers at the praise.

He looks up and quickly crawls up your body, hands on each side of your face. He smirks, his chin covered in cum and he kisses you. Deep kiss, charged with feral, primal need. His teeth tease your lips, his tongue darts out licking yours, making you taste yourself and then his lips move to your neck.

"What else?" He asks, his voice rough. "What else have you been reading. Tell me"

You struggle to speak, still shaking from your orgasm. You're embarrassed and he notices. He pulls back, grabbing your chin. "Tell me"

Oh that tone again, so gentke but clearly, so demanding. His hand slides down. "You're such a messy thing" He says grabbing your pussy, cuping it, full hand. And you moan, still sensitive. "God, you really were masturbating to all that? Since when, mmh? For how long?"

"Jake—"

"I'm not mad, baby. I just wanna know for how long has my girlfriend been jerking off to me" He says mockingly.

"A month"

His body tenses, he is mad. The problem wasn't really you reading. More like the fact that you never even once told him you wanted him to do something. What made him mad is how you waited 'till he was gone and ended up like that.

"Why?" Before you could talk he continues. "Couldn't help it? You have no self-control when it comes to me? Not even a little comon sense? You're just a whore for me? Just like that?" His fingers slide between your folders, it's a little torturing, you're beyond sensitive. "I love and hate that thought"

His fingers slide in, easy, you were so wet from your orgasm mixed with new arousal. The way he called you a whore only made you wanna get destroyed by him right there.

"God, the thought of you needing me so bad that you just had to touch yourself..." He says it like it's a fantasy of his. "But why the hell are you doing that, mmh? Never though of telling me?" His fingers move harder. He was mad yet turned on by the thought. You don't even try to understand, that's just how he is. Besides, you're just shaking and whining beneath him.

"You're a fucking mess, you could've told me" He says as he buries his face in your neck while his fingers move roughly. "You know I'd come home and fuck you all night if you asked me to" His fingers just move faster when he hears you moaning loudly. "Fuck" He whispers kissing your neck feeling his hand getting wetter.

You're so stimulated that you can barely think properly. "What a mess" He whispers. "Fuck I swear to God..." His voice sounds rougher, with anger. "I'm gonna fuck you till you forget your own fucking name, you hear me? He asks with a smirk. "I'm gonna fucking ruin you tonight"

That's all you needed for you to explode. You hold onto him, scratching his back through his clothes. Your pussy explodes, squirting all over him, yourself, and the bed. You cry out a moan, teary eyes, unable to stop and he covers your mouth, not to shut you up but to demonstrate how much power he had over you. Then he presses a kiss on your forhead.

"I'm gonna fuck you so good, baby" He whispers pulling back, Hands to his pants. You pant, he's not letting you catch your breath. His pants are off in seconds followed by his shirt. The view of his bare body in front of you made your pussy throb again, hips rolling up unconsciously. "Fuck, you're such a whore" He whispers and you love it.

"Oh, Jake" You moan and he chuckles.

"You love that, don't you? When I call you a whore" He leans down, his naked body pressing against yours. "Isn't that what you are, darling? A little whore who can't help it but get wet at the mere existence of her boyfriend"

You moan at his words and he bites his lips, hand back in your pussy. You shake, you don't think you can handle it again if he doesn't even let you recover first. "Say it" He whispers, thight circles on your sensitive clit. "Say you're just a fucking whore"

You cry out, moaning, mumbling, his fingers press harder. And you nod dumbly. "Yes, yes, baby, I am" You moan. "I'm a whore for you, baby, yes, yes"

Jake nearly cums at your words and leans to kiss your cheek, it's a tender kiss compared to the way he's treating you right now. "Want me to fuck you, darling? You sound so desperate, of course you do. You can't wait"

You moan when he opens your legs settling between them and his hard cock slides up your folds. You moan again, this time scrating his back. Jake hisses in pain and it just adds to the pleasure. He buries his face in your chest, grabbing one of your breats in his big hand and taking the other one in his mouth. You arch off the bed as he starts rocking his hips, getting his length soaked in your slick.

"Fuck, you're so wet" He murmurs nibbling on your nipple and leaving dark marks around it.

"Jake, Oh my God" You moan, feeling desperate to have him inside. "Jake, baby"

"What?" He says roughly but instinctively kisses your neck softly again, like he can't allow himself to be that harsh with you. "Can't wait? Want me to shove it in already?

"Please"

That shaky, teary plea is all it takes for him to take his cock in his hand and shove it inside you in one go, almost leaving you with no air in your lungs. He gasps too, your warmness wrapping around him in such a prefect way. He buries his face in your neck as he starts thrusting, deep and slow at first. His movements making you scream immediately scratching his arms.

"Oh, fuck" You whine, unable to form coherent words at the moment and he smirks against your skin.

"You like that?" He aks and purposely starts thrusting harder, his hips smacking against yours now and all you can hear in the room is the sound of skin crashing against skin and littke cries mixed with gasps.

He doesn't really let you talk, he's going hard, still a little mad. Jake doesn't usually goes so hard on you, but God he can feel his blood boiling whenever he remembers you just choose not to tell him whenever you were needy. He'll show you how good he can make you feel. "After tonight, you better fucking delete that app"

You feel like he's breaking your body from the way he's fucking you. His hips slam against yours, relentless, and you just hold onto him, letting him absolutely deatroy you. Because it doesn't really matter how hard he was going, you liked it, you know you'd let this man destroy you all night if he decides so. You hold onto his arms feeling your orgasm fluttering closer, making you moan louder, his name joining the mix of noises that fill the room and with one last thrust your body shakes beneath his, orgasm hitting like a tidal wave.

"Ahgh fuck" You manage to say before Jake pulls back. He doesn't pull out, he kisses you deeply. Feral, wild, his teeth taking your lower lip in between them, making you whine. Then he pulls back completely, sitting down and grabbing your hips, lifting them off the bed. "Jake!" You scream when he starts thrusting again. The angle only making it easier for his cock to go deeper. "Jake—"

"You can do it" He groans, his hair stuck on his sweaty forehead. "You're gonna take it" His fingers dig in your hips painfully while he thrust into you.

Your body rocks back and forth at the rythm he ser while your tits jiggle. Jake's eyes focus on them, his heart rate increasing at the view and his hands aching to grip them. And he does, his hands gripping your tits hard while he keeps fucking into you like an animal. You scream scratching his arms. "Jake, baby I ca—"

"You can" He whispers, breathless. "You're gonna take it like the fucking whore you are for me"

And there you go, cumming again at his simple words. Squirting on his cock, making a mess of his lower body. His hands lands on your neck, you moan. He never does that, he doesn't like it, but he knows you do. Your eyes roll back into your head as you try to get yourself together. His hips twitch, he isn't done. You moan, knowing he can least long as hell. It excites you and scares you at the same time. He leans down for another wild kiss before pulling out and turning you around effortlessly. Face down, ass up.

He looks down. Your pussy looks like a mess and it makes him wanna bury his face in it but he holds back on that and shoves his cock back in. His hands on your hips while his start moving again. You moan against the bed, so fucking wrecked that you feel like you'll lose your mind at any second.

"Fuck, you're a mess, God, I kove it" he says lost in the feeling of the orgasm that's about to hit him. He holds back, just wanting to wreck you a little more. His hips move relentlessly, and he leans forward, hand in your lower back, pressing you down on the bed. He groans at the noise your pussy makes with every thrust he gives.

"Fuck, Jake I can't—" Your legs shake again, you're over the edge, way too ovestimulated. "Baby, please! Please" You beg, only pushing him closer to his orgasm. He leans forward, his chest pressed against your back.

"Fuck, baby, I love when you beg, you sound so fucking wrecked" He murmurs, his voice weak, he's about to cum. "Cum again, darling, I know you can do it" He says against your ear. "One more for me, princess"

Oh the way he suddenly started talking gentler, he's definetly back to himself. He can't keep up that dominant attitude forever, not when he's a softie for you. You cum, at the way he keeps whispering you to do it in that needy tone. He's waiting for you do it so he can let go. You moan softly against the bed, he grips your hips thighter when you cum, feeling how you shake. Tears roll down into the bedding from the intensity. And finally, he gives in, cumming inside you. You feel his cock twitching inside, thick cum filling you up for way too long.

Jake falls down next to you, eyes still trying to focus because he can't see anything at all. You sob against the bed, no energy to even turn around. You're wrecked, shaky, overstimulated and your body can't really take anything more. Jake's heart drops when he hears you sob, and he immediately pulls you closer. You sob against his chest, not that you didn't enjoy, but you enjoyed way too much. He kisses the top of your head.

"Shhh, you did so good, baby" He whispers reassuringly. "It's okay, I'm here, I've got you" He hugs you thighter and smiles when you start calming down. "That's it, that's my girl"

You whine softly against his chest and try to move closer searching for that comfort that he always provides you. Jake caresses your back, drawing soft circles in it and pulls back a little.

"You okay?" He asks and smiles at your little nod. "That's my girl" He whispers.

"I'm sorry for not...telling you" You whisper softly and he just shakes his head.

"Shh, just get rid of it" He whispers comforting you. "I'm not mad at you, baby, I just love you so much and I hate that you didn't even tell me whenever you needed me"

"I'm sorry, I don't know why I didn't aither"

୨ৎ

Jake is humming a song while caressing your stomach. You're lying on your back, with your phone in your hand right after unstalling the app. He kisses your shoulder softly, looking at your screen while you do other stuff on your phone. He nuzzles your shoulder and you smile knowing he's for sure back to being sweet and lovely and unable to hold back his love for you and his need to be touching you even in a non-sexual way.

"Baby" He says softly but serious. You hum indicating him to continue. "I'm serious, tell me when you feel needy, I'm here for you, I will never deny you anything. Even if I'm out, I'll fucking run back home if you need me to"

You chuckle. "I guess I didn't wanna disturb you when you were out with the boys"

Jake groans. "Baby I'll go to the end of the world and back for you, stop messing with me."

You feel like your heart is going to explode at his words and you just turn around and kiss him softly. His lips quickly following your rythm. A slow loving rythm as his body settles back on top of you and you let him. Because even if you're tired, you'd do anything for him, you'd let him ruin you over and over again. He places gentle kisses on your neck and whispers, leaving a fuzzy sensation within you. "One more?" And you nod against his neck making him giggle. "You got it, love"

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