#first time drawing her and i need to do it way more- but a good start!
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behind closed doors
kim seungmin x fem!reader
synopsis/request: When you overhear Seungmin's parents' doubts about your relationship, you’re left questioning if you can ever measure up to their expectations until Seungmin’s support reminds you of what truly matters.
wc: 1948
It was an evening you had both anticipated and dreaded: your first meeting with Seungmin's family. The entire day had been a mixture of excitement and nerves for you.
Seungmin's parents and sister were very important to him, and you naturally wanted to make a good impression. Everything had started off nicely enough. His parents were polite and respectable, while his sister was vibrant and charming. They all seemed really friendly, which relieved some of the stress in your chest. However, there was an underlying pressure to appear as if you were the right person for Seungmin in their eyes. You wanted to show them how serious you were about him and the relationship.
Seungmin was his usual self, loving and fun, in stark contrast to the formal atmosphere you were trying to navigate. As the night went on, you tried to figure out a balance between being yourself and what you believed his family would expect from someone in your position.
You laughed a little too loudly at his father's jokes, became overly passionate talking about unimportant topics, and may have made a couple too many silly remarks. You didn't want to be too stiff or too serious; it felt like you were trying to draw a careful balance between demonstrating that you were polite and truly interested in getting to know them, while still allowing your personality to peek through.
But then came the time when you excused yourself to go the bathroom. You'd noticed a strange tightening in your chest, an almost unbearable sensation of pressure. Maybe it was the food, or it could have been the nerves. Regardless, you needed a time to breathe.
As you stood in front of the bathroom mirror, trying to settle yourself down, you had no idea that the thin walls allowed you to hear faint sounds on the other side. You weren't trying to eavesdrop; your mind was busy with your own ideas. But when the conversation you overheard started, it was like a punch to the stomach.
The words came through clearly, and they stung more than you expected. Seungmin's mother spoke softly yet firmly. "Do you think she's the one, Seungmin?" she asked, somewhat hesitantly.
You felt your heart speed up as his father spoke out, his tone condemning, "She seems so playful, too much so, don't you think?" "She doesn't seem to take things seriously." That was hardly the worst of it.
His father went on to say, "Seungmin, she is not marriage material. You need someone more grounded, someone who knows what it means to settle down.
Your throat tightened as the words struck you harder than expected. You wanted to run back into the room and interrupt, but your legs felt heavy, and your mind was racing to find a way to mask your pain. His mother continued, almost sadly, "She doesn't seem to be serious about you or this relationship. She seems too... young, too carefree."
Seungmin's voice came next, quieter than the others and almost protective. "She's just not used to...this," he explained. "She's a little different from what you expect, but that doesn't mean she doesn't care." His father was obviously unconvinced. "It's more than just caring, Seungmin. "She lacks the necessary maturity."
Then, maybe recognizing just how difficult the topic was for her brother, Seungmin's sister interrupted with more than a hint of impatience. "Mom and Dad, stop! She's great. You don't understand. She's like me; she's lively, warm, and kind. I really like her.”
It was comforting to hear someone fight for you, even if it was Seungmin's sister. You stood motionless, the hurt of their words still echoing in your chest. But you didn't have the courage to confront them right away.
What could you possibly say?
You tried so hard, probably too hard, to appear mature and serious, but it didn't feel like it was enough.
You stood in the bathroom for a while longer, feeling the weight of their judgment. You had tried to be someone you thought they’d want, but in doing so, you realized that you hadn’t really been yourself. You didn’t know how to process the idea that, maybe, you weren’t seen as good enough for Seungmin not by his parents, at least.
When you finally returned to the room, you knew something had changed. The air felt different. Seungmin’s sister, noticing your quieter demeanor, tried to shift the atmosphere by asking you more about your hobbies. “Wait, you like pottery?” she asked with wide eyes, an obvious attempt to get you talking.
"Yeah," you said quietly, trying to keep a light tone, "I've been getting into it lately. It's sort of relaxing." Her eyes sparkled with genuine enthusiasm. "No way! I've been doing pottery for several months now! That’s great!" She gasped, smiled warmly, attempting to lighten the mood even further. "We should definitely do something together. It will be so much fun! I can teach you some tricks; I'm very good at it."
For a little while, the connection you had with his sister managed to reduce some of the nervousness. Still, you couldn't shake the feeling that you were being watched in ways you hadn't expected, and that something was wrong. Seungmin also noticed the shift in you. He kept looking at you, brow wrinkled, stare kind yet anxious. His eyes would wander between you and his parents, almost as if he sensed something was wrong, but he didn't push.
Dinner continued, but the lightness was gone. His sister made more small talk, and you tried to engage, but it felt forced. Every time you tried to speak, Seungmin's gaze lingered on you, looking for answers he had not asked for. His parents, while being respectful, seemed to fall into silence after their earlier talk. You couldn't help but feel like an outsider in a space that you had hoped would feel like home.
You told yourself that you were overreacting. Maybe it was all in your head. But every time Seungmin's parents spoke to you, you felt judged, as if you hadn't proven yourself in their eyes. His sister, sensing your uneasiness, attempted to change the subject as much as possible, but the shadow of their words hung over you.
When the evening drew to an end, Seungmin led you to the door. You were calmer, almost withdrawn. You didn't want him to know how much it hurt, yet the disappointment persisted. As you grabbed for the door handle, Seungmin's voice broke the silence, softer than normal.
"Are you alright? You've been unusually quiet recently." You smiled, pretending everything was alright, but the weight of the evening hung heavy on your chest. "I'm fine," you said, but neither of you found it believable. "Just... tired, I guess." He didn't press any more, but his eyes were gentle and concerned, indicating that he had observed the change in you. "If you need to talk... anything, I'm here," he said softly, his fingers brushing over yours. You nodded, trying to smile, but it was hard to shake the feeling that you weren't enough, that you would never be enough for his family, no matter how hard you tried.
The cold breeze as you stepped into the peaceful night air did little to relieve the pressure in your chest. You strolled beside Seungmin, his arm brushing against yours in a way that used to comfort you but now only increased to the gap you felt between yourself and what had happened inside. The drive home was quiet, with the hum of the engine filling the gaps between the silences. Seungmin was still looking at you, his eyes flickering back and forth as if he wanted to question, to comprehend, but didn't want to push. His hands clutched the driving wheel tighter than usual, and the stress was evident. You could feel his anxiety, but you were not yet ready to talk. You weren’t sure how.
When you arrived at the apartment, he parked and sat for a time, his fingers drumming on the steering wheel. "I know you're not okay," he continued, his voice lower than usual. "Whatever happened tonight, please tell me. I'm here. But you don't have to if you aren't actually ready. You paused, unsure where to begin, but the weight of the overheard conversation, judgment, and unsaid expectations pressed down on you, threatening to spill over. "I don't know," you said, your voice trembling. "It's just hard, Seungmin. I tried so hard to fit in, to prove that I am... enough for you. But it seems like nothing I did mattered. They say I'm too childish, too carefree, and that I can’t take things seriously." Your voice caught, and you looked away, suddenly feeling exposed.
Seungmin's stare softened, and you thought you noticed a glint of frustration in his eyes, not at you, but at the situation. He reached over, softly squeezing your hand. "You are not too much of anything. I adore you for being who you are. I apologize if they made you feel uncomfortable. That is their problem, not yours.” You struggled to hold back the tears that threatened to flow, but they fell regardless.
The irritation, the hurt, and the overwhelming sensation of not being able to measure up all spilled out of you in an instant. Seungmin wasn't trying to stop you. He just sat there, holding your hand, allowing you to cry. His thumb traced small circles over your skin, the simple act offering more comfort than words ever could.
"I just don't want you to feel like you have to change," he said after a moment, his voice quiet and steady. "I understand they can be difficult. But I love you for who you are. I have never wanted anyone else. And you don't have to fake or change to make people see it." You sniffled and looked up at him with hazy eyes. "What if they never see it?" What if they never realize I'm serious about us? about you?" "They will," Seungmin replied confidently. "It may take time. And while they may not understand it right now, they will eventually see what I see. And in the meantime, all that matters is what we see in each other.”
You took a long breath, hoping to settle your rushing thoughts. Seungmin was right. The weight of his family's expectations should not be entirely on your shoulders. You weren't perfect. You didn't meet their expectations. What mattered most was that Seungmin saw you for who you were and loved you despite, or perhaps because of, your differences. "I'm sorry I've been so distant tonight," you said, wiping your tears. "I just didn't know how to handle all of it." He smiled tenderly, moving a stray strand of hair away from your face. "There is no need to apologize for how you feel. You don't have to explain your emotions to me or anyone else.”
The two of you sat in comfortable silence for a moment, the weight of the evening slowly lifting as Seungmin's presence settled you. You eventually turned to him, giving him a faint, sincere smile. “Thank you. For everything. I just don't want to disappoint you."
"You could never disappoint me," he continued, his voice firm and confident. "You're everything to me. And I will always stand by your side, no matter what." It wasn't a solution, and it wouldn't solve everything quickly. But it was enough to know that, in Seungmin's eyes, you were enough. And maybe that was all you truly needed to hold onto, at least for now.
The night wasn’t over, but somehow, with him beside you, it already felt a little lighter.
//
masterlist 📩
#stray kids x you#stray kids imagines#skz imagines#skz x y/n#stray kids x reader#stray kids fanfic#stray kids scenarios#kpop x reader#kpop imagines#seungmin x you#kim seungmin angst#seungmin angst#seungmin fluff#seungmin x y/n#seungmin fanfic#seungmin imagines#kim seungmin#seungmin#stray kids#stray kids seungmin#seungmin x reader#kpop fluff#kpop angst#kpop fanfic
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Shenhe, Clorinde, Dehya and Noelle with S/N hugging them tightly.
(Genshin Impact) Shenhe, Clorinde, Dehya, Noelle, and Chiori's S/O hugging them tightly
Strong women...
Shenhe's whole body eases up the moment S/O's arms wrap around her, with them squeezing her as tightly as they can.
Her heart feels calm, yet its rapidly beating with S/O being this close to her.
Strange, yes, but far from unpleasant.
(Shenhe) "S/O?"
(S/O) "You don't mind me staying like this for a little bit, do you?"
(Shenhe) "I don't."
Shenhe returns the embrace by holding S/O closer.
Though of course she doesn't use her all her strength despite the fact she wants to return as much loving attention.
Because doing so would cause S/O's spine to bend at a 90 degree angle all of a sudden.
Clorinde goes stiff for a moment before exhaling, a small smile forming on her lips alongside a blush.
(Clorinde) "I take it you have missed me?"
(S/O) "Mmm...maybe just a little."
Their teasing tone betrayed their thoughts, as if the pressure around her stomach wasn't any indication either.
But Clorinde had no objection, doubly so since they were in private.
She leans back into their hold, a soft chuckle escaping her.
(Clorinde) "Then I am all yours for the night, S/O."
One hand reaches upward to their arm, gently holding their waist as she takes a deep breath, now fully relaxing.
And with one last gesture before sitting next to them, Clorinde kisses the top of their fingers, holding their hand as if it were made of glass.
Dehya is slightly startled but it doesn't take her long to immediately turn around and give a fierce hug back.
Her laughter was loud, quickly joined in by S/O.
(Dehya) "S/O! Geez, could've said hi first!"
(S/O) "Where's the fun in that?"
With a cheeky smile, Dehya lifts S/O off the ground as she gives them an even tighter hug than the one they were giving her.
S/O's breath hitched for a moment as it was almost crushed out of them, but Dehya put them back on the ground, her arms crossing in front of her chest.
(Dehya) "Dinner on me? Just got paid a nice amount too!"
(S/O) "Sure, you gotta tell me what happened out there!"
Her smile gets even bigger as S/O walks beside her, Dehya's arm immediately seeking S/O's and wrapping it tightly around them.
(Dehya) "Alright, let's see...-"
Noelle doesn't even physically budge when S/O suddenly hugs her, but she does yelp in surprise.
(Noelle) "HUH?!...Oh, S/O! Jeez, you scared the daylights out of me!"
(S/O) "Hah, sorry, sorry!"
Noelle blushes madly as she reciprocates their hug, her head resting on their shoulder as she did so.
Unfortunately for S/O, she used her full strength and they heard a few of their bones pop from their spine.
Whether or not that was a good thing remained to be seen, but they could still feel the pain and could stand upright, so that was at least a good sign!
After being dazed by her affection, S/O smiles at Noelle as she did the same.
(Noelle) "Did you need me for something?"
(S/O) "I got us a table for dinner ready, and wanted to see if you were off yet!...Might also need a healer."
(Noelle) "Oh! Yes, I am nearly finished! I will have this mess sorted out in no time but...what was that last part?"
(S/O) COUGH! "A-Ah, nothing!"
Chiori raises an eyebrow but doesn't really blush or budge, instead an arm softly reaches out to their wrists, gently shoving them upwards to give her more breathing space.
(Chiori) "What's with the sudden hug?"
(S/O) "Am I not allowed to show love to my beautiful girlfriend?"
She hummed in acknowledgement, finishing the sketch on a new design.
(Chiori) "Preferably not when she needs steady hands to draw something-."
(S/O) "I can hold you and be still at the same time!"
(Chiori) "Is that right?"
Despite her tone, there is no real malice in it, even as she sighs aloud.
(Chiori) "Alright, just don't squirm too much, alright?"
If S/O could squint, there's the slightest hint of a blush on her face.
Though S/O didn't need to that to tell them she was comfortable.
The way her shoulders slumped and she subtly shifted closer to them, head leaning back onto S/O for support:
That physical shift was what made S/O happy.
And of course, Chiori too.
...As long as they didn't intentionally mess with her as she was trying to come up with something for work.
#genshin impact x reader#genshin impact imagines#genshin impact headcanons#shenhe x reader#clorinde x reader#dehya x reader#noelle genshin impact x reader#chiori genshin impact x reader#shenhe genshin impact#clorinde genshin impact#dehya genshin#chiori genshin#noelle genshin impact
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i know you've been anxiously waiting (no you haven't)....
FREIGHT GANG HEADCANONS!!
this is honestly gonna be like half funny headcanons and the rest will probably just be me trying to figure out family dynamics and lore so be prepared !
- Momma isn't the biological mother of any of the gang except Rusty. She had adopted Porter and Lumber while they were still trainlets, then she gave birth to Rusty. Once Porter and Lumber were old enough to help themselves more, Momma decided to take in foster children. One of the children she housed was Slick and after hearing about her experiences with the foster care system she adopted her. Slick was around 12 at the time. Then, around 6 months before the events of the musical, Hydra was dropped off at the Troubadour yard and she took him in.
- Currently, Porter is 21, Lumber is 20, Hydra is 19, and Rusty and Slick are 18. This doesn't include their physical ages or manufacturing dates, this is more based on emotional maturity.
- Rusty and Slick are the only two in the family that were born naturally, the rest having been manufactured.
- Porter is the tallest of all of them, not including Momma, the next being Hydra, then Lumber and Rusty, and Slick being the shortest. She is only shorter than Porter by 4 inches or so.
- After the crash with Greaseball and Electra, Slick suffered severe hearing loss and learned British Sign Language. She eventually got hearing aids but still regularly uses BSL. She and Momma taught the boys the basics and they're still learning.
- Rusty has hypermobile Ehlers-Danlos syndrome and I consider his rust to be eczema.
- Hydra's wheels are inlines!! They were originally quads, but once he and Rusty became racing partners he switched to inlines. The main reason he switched, besides thinking they look cool, it so he could be faster to compensate for the size and weight of his tank. He still has his quad foot attachments for workdays where he needs more stability, but he prefers his inlines.
- Porter has ADHD and has severe mood swings and shifts because of it. #manicadhdgang
- Lumber has a weird amount of talents. He's memorized all of the original Cards Against Humanity cards, he is unnaturally good at every online shooter he plays, he can draw, paint, and sculpt beautifully, and so much more. It's because he also has ADHD and he is just really good at everything he fixates on.
- In the freight shed there are two to a room. Momma has her own room, Rusty and Slick share a room, Porter and Lumber share a room, and Hydra is on the couch but Momma lets him keep his stuff in her room. Rusty had originally volunteered to let Hydra take his bed but Hydra and Slick both expressed their distaste towards that idea. Hydra was scared of her and she didn't like him at first.
- Once Porter and Lumber turned 19 and 18, Porter wanted to move out and get a place together to give Momma and their siblings more space, but Momma convinced them to stay so they could save and get a better shed than they were planning. She just didn't want her boys to leave yet :(
- I like to pretend that the way the freight gang were speaking to Rusty about not being able to race was a lot more sarcastic. They weren't actually trying to discourage him, just more of a picking on him as a way of reverse psychology to let him know that they do believe in him. It obviously didn't work out that way.
- Slick can literally take a nap anywhere
- Cuddle piles regularly occur, especially in the summer and winter. Rusty and Momma are their personal space heaters and Hydra is their cooling pack.
#yayay freight is so great#starlight express#stex#porter the coal truck#lumber the wood truck#slick the oil tanker#hydra the hydrogen tanker#momma the steam engine#rusty the steam engine#freight is great#stex 2024#stex london 2024#stex wembley#headcanons
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if I stopped making art, nothing would change
Maybe I would find other ways to fill my time, maybe I'd do something more productive, or I'd find a new passion that made me proud of myself in a way making art isn't managing
I often ask myself, why do you draw? And the answer is because I want to, I feel compelled to try to make something, I have an idea I need to express
Im also very aware my skill level, technical abilities and consistency in production is nothing special. And no, it doesn't have to be good for art to matter, art can be impactful and significant in many, many ways that all feel beyond my capabilities
There are artists I dearly loved who stopped making art, and I dont know why they made that decision. Maybe it got made for them, or they moved on and my life was changed by it as I mourn their absence and wish them well when i revisit their work
If I stopped making art, maybe I could leave the deep rooted pain behind, the inadequacy and the scolding for drawing the wrong type of card for my hospitalized grandmother. Maybe I would move on from the humiliation of sharing work I made to no response . Maybe I'd be free from the stress and sadness that I don't make anything worth gifting yo someone else
I drew my first birthday card for a family member last year, after sitting in the silent rejection by my mother for years. I made it for my sister in law, who printed it out and hung it on her office spot. When she showed me I felt nauseous with anxiety and confusion, and I still can't understand her response
I still feel a mix of anxiety and nausea about sharing my work, and drawing anything for my friends still feel like I'm somehow insulting them by being so fucking shit at it
Im not going to stop drawing, and I don't know how to tackle the complex and evaluating vortex of my complete lack of confidence in myself. But I'm going to try, because I think the world is best when people make their art and share it and that includes even me
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lemongrab (Starts vibrating so hard i explode)
i do think pb is calm now but i dont think she likes wizards. i dont know. i dont know. and i saw how she treated lemongrab, she didn't really like him either. like. you all saw that. peps didnt want to see that he didnt want to think about it at the time, how they were treating the actual literal heir to the throne and also just how they were treating this man, he didn't realize. he didn't. and now. and . dont .get me talking about lemongrab. or i will talk. for ever
pep: you ate your brother lg: lg: you won't have that problem pep: i could eat you lg: try it
#says shes better but you know. pep can tell theres something going on. theres something Wrong#she insists hes not doing anything wrong and she supports him!! but he can TASTE it. in there. in her words.#lemongrab is not a very gentle person but he is kind. and he is a father. and he wants so badly to be a good sibling.#adventure time#distant lands#lemongrab#peppermint#digital#lemon kids#well one of them. im sorry he looks so much like larry in some ways.#this is the first time lg has called pep his sibling hes like (mid meltdown) IM YOURWHAT..... <3#long post#its so tall.#i need to stop drawing ppl on benches. until i learn to draw benches.#she always knew peps was a magic user but it was more of a background Hes An Adult He Does What He Wants thing#and now he needs money for schoolbooks. so he has to see that Look in her eyes. im making it weird arent i#sorry pb fans im really mad at her about lemongrab and it poisons every interaction i have with her character#she really is trying. i promise. you just wouldnt know it from talking to lemognrab or pep.
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yknow what i will post this little marcille bc. it's her day (thursday)
#first time drawing her and i need to do it way more- but a good start!#not to mention i was very artblocked- i will do better now ehe#falinburger art#dungeon meshi#delicious in dungeon#marcille#marcille dungeon meshi#dunmeshi#description in alt text
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hiki and geki matching post
hiki and geki matching post
#utau#kazehiki utau#gekiyaku utau#(this isn't all of them but these are the ones i thought matched the most esp given the poses; these r the 偽薬; 点滴; and ��粒 vbs respectively)#(also i hope this doesnt go against kuzutokaze's terms?? cause its just low quality screencaps and not the full high res art)#(but ill delete if i have to)#theyre sillyyyy i like them BOTH when u have vsynths that are meant to b counterparts do not separate them!!!#angst siblings angst siblings... (to me.) maybe im particularly based b/c reminds me of my own brother and i#but also ive just read interpretations/fantheories abt these two that have absolutely DESTROYEDDD me sad as fuck man wtf 😭😭#i have a lot of thoughts abt a lot of vsynths. ughhhh curse me not having a lot of time to draw rn#i will admit i was a bit more hiki based at first lmao but ive warmed up to geki; yeah her voice tone def isnt for everyone#i totally get that. but she can roll her rs so good LMAOO... and also just in the way/s i interpret her she reminds me a lot of myself :(#[well ok i project heavilyyy on a lot of my vsynth interpretations but these two. i can do things. *hits them w/ my latine beam*]#[JOKINGG... /hj. in a way. shhhhhhhh dont even worry about it. i NEEED to test out more how they both sound in spanish tho i need]#please ignore these tags for the love of god 😭😭😭 its late and im going a little unhinged
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Op Characters Body Study
Id definately do more of these but please dont suggest anymore to do cuz then my brain will shut the idea off entirely <3
Reference Image:
design comments:
Sanji: I wanted him to mainly be in the legs, while the shoulders and arms were closer together. Compact up top, Watermelon Crushers on the bottom. i vaguely designed him with the Marathon runner from the reference image in mind. I differ from the reference in that i give him upper body muscles cuz he loves his break dancing moves and you need hella muscles for that.
Zoro: Big tits & Tank Body. Cant knock this cat over.
Sabo: This man in my eyes is a Barbie Doll. Long Legs Tiny Torso. Winx Club Sailor Moon lookin mf. In part inspired by this panel of him:
Nami: My headcanon for Nami is that when we first meet her she is very skinny and malnourished, then overtime living with the strawhats she gains weight and progressively gets chubby. I just think that Sanji always cooking her such nutritious meals and tasty sweets, and not needing to fight for herself all the time, would lead to her lovely new body type. Something, something, 'to be loved is to be changed'.
Plus, her new fighting styles isnt like "im wacking you with this stick" anymore, its more "I'm moving this stick in this direction and striking you with the lighting coming from it". That still needs muscles though so i gave her some good muscles up top :3
Artist note: i spent way to long lovingly drawing her boobs.
Ace: He's the dorito man of the universe. Broad shoulders, itty bitty waist. I modeled him after the basketball player in the reference image Alton Huston. i think that he would focus his athleticism in Jumping and Throwing (literally) punches, so it leads me to think he would build the same muscles a basketball player would.
man is 60% legs. freak. anyway,
I just like the idea of a perfect body that has been twisted by its scars.
Luffy: Brick Shithouse. Healthy mix between muscle and fat. i just wanted to make him look Really Healthy.
The majority of this design is just giving these characters body fat. i dont like the way gangly abs and tits look i love a chub. PWEEESEEE ODA GIVE ME A CHUBBY WOMAN CHARACTER PWEEEEEEEEEESE IM BEGGING YOU PWEESE PWEEESESESESESESESESSSESESES
*ahem*
anyway
i had a lot of fun drawing these, i love love love drawing anatomy and this was a good learning experience on top of that. One of the ways i drag myself out of art block is i just do art studies so this is kinda that.
thank you for coming to my ted talk <3
#my art#one piece#sabo#monkey d. luffy#asl brothers#one piece fan art#portgas d. ace#sabo the revolutionary#roronoa zoro#op zoro#op sanji#sanji fanart#op nami#cat burglar nami#art study#op spoilers
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a request, if i may, of praising old man logan as he filfthly eats you out and it makes him combust the more you praise him? okay running away again
speak of her over my grave and watch how she brings me back to life
a/n: look at him taking off his glasses in absolute shock of this ask- no okay does old man logan have a praise kink? i would raise it higher and say every version of logan has a massive praise kink. this is a man who wants to know he's doing good in life. his love language is acts of service so he might get to hear a pretty thank you. also i'm not sorry for how feral this got. i have no explanation.
summary: he knew he loved you when your words begin to piece his heart back together. he knew he loved you when he flourishes at your praise. he knew he loved you when nothing in this world could matter but the sound of your voice telling him you love him too.
word count: 3k+
pairing: old man!logan x f!reader
warnings: EXPLICIT SO MINORS DNI, oral (f receiving), praise kink, logan is obsessed, dirty talk via reader, he is so pretty when he blushes, manhandling, cumplay, cumeating, overstimulation, crying, he's needy in this one, angst, tortured soul of an old man, reverence, religious trauma + greek mythology hints.
He can feel the strings of fate pull tight around his broken heart. In a failed attempt to draw him back together. To piece together an organ that barely beat for him anymore. He might have felt it once, before it broke. Before it gnarled itself like the branches of a dying tree, one half twisting away from the other in a desperate attempt of survival.
He deemed it a useless part of his body until you came along. You with your smile that held enough cloying sweetness to choke him as he stood helpless. Silently begging for you to say his name. To bring him back to life.
Whatever horrors that plagued his mind—endless nightmares that promised nothing but anguish—suddenly came crashing to a halt at the sight of you. So pretty in your denim jeans and velvet top. An angel seated in the center of a bar that held more filth than you deserved to be near. Logan couldn’t fathom that luck struck him this hard.
Not when death had already claimed his soul; notched yet another tally in the endless wall of people that came before.
He felt the dirt pack under his nails as he clawed his way out of the grave he put himself in. Years spent alone—a man lost to the ravages of time—had turned him bitter. With rough edges and biting words that stung far more than he intended. How could he believe he deserved to live after he contributed so much to the endless pool of blood that tainted his soul? How was he allowed such softness after biting off bits of brutality his whole life?
Logan was pretty sure he survived on borrowed time that had already run out. He could feel death breathe down his neck as the days went on. A reminder that what little of his life remained would be spent suffering. And he found that accepting it was easier than battling against the will of God, or whoever toyed with his lifeline.
It was far easier to die than find a reason to live.
Until you said his name.
Softly. Sweetly. Reverence wrapped in a tight grasp of need.
You brought him back from the edge—took his hand and refused to take no for an answer. You and the safety of your touch; the promise in your kiss. You dragged him into a life he didn’t earn; one that almost tasted too sweet—too sour.
After near a decade of being buried beneath the dirt, he felt himself collapse above ground and suck in his first real gasp of fresh air. Alive, once more. Hell spit him out with a vow of love and who was he to argue against it.
His fingers dug into your plush thighs, tugging them open to see what lay between. He marveled at their softness, eyes wide and awestruck at the sight of you spread beneath him. You practically glowed in the dim light of the bedside table. Yellow, musty, yet angelic when it caressed your body with its heavenly touch.
He wondered if this was real life; your nails digging sharply into his shoulders gave him the answer.
"Logan," you sighed, voice high with need.
The strings pulled taught. A vice like hold that drew him to you.
Maybe that's what this unutterable feeling was. The gnawing pit at the bottom of his heart. A greed he'd never indulged before—too afraid of what it might ask for next. He wasn't a man who asked for much. Rather someone that found himself far too content with nothing. But tonight he found his lips forming the words of a false prayer that his mother taught him as a child.
Hail the angel in his bed. Hail every good fucking thing you brought into his life.
His teeth sunk into your thigh, body jolting at your responding moan. Fingers dug into his hair, tugging at the mussed locks with a high pitched whine. You were a needy little thing, but Logan found he desperately wanted to be needed.
He smiled laving his tongue over the tender spot, working his way up to where you dripped for him.
So slick. So perfect.
Saliva filled his mouth. "What do ya want baby?"
Your chest heaved; he could feel the heat of your body under his palms. "Your m-mouth Logan."
His eyes trailed along your brow covered in a sheen of sweat. The room was thick with the humid air of the outside world. But that didn't deter him from craving your skin near his. The pressure of your thighs around his head a welcome weight. If he sunk his teeth in where the curve of your leg met your hip he knew he could draw out that soft choking noise he longed to hear on days spent driving alone.
If he had his way he'd crawl into you to seek your serenity straight from the source. He'd never divulge about the ache that chewed him up on the inside, but Logan wondered if you knew. Could you tell how much he craved you? How much he couldn't live without you.
When your glittering eyes met his, the resolve he spent years building cracked like glass. You peered into him as if he was a stained glass window. A god you were more than happy to worship.
"You want me to lick this pretty pussy?" Fuck, he sounded drunk off your taste already.
His mouth hovered over your throbbing clit, your scent now filling his senses. Overwhelming him with what he wanted most. But he needed to hear it. The lilt of your begging; the soft echo of your need that washed over him like soothing river water.
He couldn't live without it.
"Yes," you sobbed, thigh twitching.
The string sliced his heart open, blood pooling onto the white bed sheets. Oh what a sweet death your love made. Oh...what a bittersweet way to go.
He'd die right now if you asked him to. Hand over his heart on a silver platter if you so wished it. Maybe that made him far too gone for his own good, but Logan couldn't remember a time in his life where he got this. Safety. The hope of love burning far too bright and far too hot for him to fly near it.
Yet there he was. Icarus happily soaring in your sun like glow.
"I got ya honey," he murmured. "Gonna take care of what's mine."
You nodded frantically—tears welling up in your eyes. "You take care of me Logan."
The breath in his chest stuttered, eyes dark as the words fell past your swollen lips. He wanted to explain why his cock twitched against his stomach. Why he now leaked into the sheet with heavy panted breaths. But every time he came up short with the words needed to form an answer.
"Yeah I do sweetheart," he breathed. "Don't I?"
"Uh-huh."
"Take care of what belongs to me."
There was no warning when his hands dragged you closer with a rough tug, mouth closing over your clit with a desperate suck. A cry wrenched from your mouth, sparks sharply traveling down your spine. He licked through your slick with a growl. Hands an unbreakable press against your thighs.
The sight of your body bowed, mouth open for small gasped breaths that never came, snapped something in his mind. He was an old man. Well past his years. But the taste of your pussy along his tongue brought back a ferocity he often tamped down in his younger age. He felt the feral want claw at his chest, and answered it with a broken snarl.
Swallowing down every drop you gave him, he plunged his tongue into your entrance, thrusting messily until a smear of your shiny slick began to coat his mouth. It covered his cheeks and clung to the hair of his beard. He'd clean it out later, taste you on his tongue until he was aching for another go. But for now he was preoccupied with the way you cried for him.
"Oh fuck!" Your thighs trembled over his shoulders, hips canting down to drag yourself along his tongue. "So good."
He shuddered, eyes rolling back at the sound of your praise. You caught it within seconds, lips pulling into a breathless smile that left him gasping for air. His teeth nipped at your thigh briefly as his hips ground into the mattress below.
"You like that baby?" you breathed, thumb smearing your own slick against his cheek.
Something hot washed over his body. A needy sick and twisted ache that he'd never indulged in before. He wanted to be a good man to you; longed to be needed. And fuck if you didn't give him everything.
You were his walking wet dream. His future handed off and wrapped in a neat little bow.
"L-Love your tongue Logan-" A high gasp tore from your throat when he dived back in. Slurping at your clit with a heady moan as you dragged him closer. "Taking care of me so well."
His hips canted down into the bed, fucking his cock along the warmth of his stomach, as you gushed into his mouth again. Eyes zeroed in on your face, pupils dilated as he growled into your flesh. You no longer could see the man you loved, but the feral side he tamped down during the day. The animal he longed to release in your presence.
"Fuck I'm gonna cum."
His arms looped around your thighs and with a sharp yank, he had his face buried deep enough to suffocate himself. You sobbed an incoherent version of his name. Nails clawed at his shoulders, but Logan could feel the pulse of your clit under his tongue.
He sucked it into his mouth with a grunt, rolling it along his tongue as you trembled with the oncoming shocks of an orgasm that threatened to destroy you.
Tears dripped down your cheeks and Logan felt the satisfying part of his heart begin to stitch itself back together. The strings were tight enough to numb his pain. To quell the flare of agony.
That used to be all he knew, all he counted on most days. When there was nothing left and he'd propped the shovel in the dirt—his grave open and waiting—he stumbled right into your arms. He found his reason for living.
Heat curled around his spine as you shook with the impending orgasm—the stimulation on your clit practically debilitating. He grunted into your soaked flesh, eyes narrowed as he chased the release that pulled his stomach taut. But this wasn't for him to indulge in; this wasn't his pleasure.
So with a throaty moan you felt reverberate along your body, he scraped his teeth along your clit and watched as your body went stiff.
"Logan!" you cried, fingers scrambling for purchase on any part of him you could reach.
You gushed into his awaiting mouth, praises of it's so good, you're so good falling upon his ears like the whimpered prayers of a devout worshiper thanking your god.
"Taste so fuckin' good," he mumbled, drunk on what you gave him.
He didn't care that you were jolting with each pass of his tongue along your pussy. He didn't care that you were shocked with overstimulation, small broken cries of his name muffled by the press of your thighs against his ears. He licked at you until he couldn't breathe. Buried his tongue into your twitching entrance and sucked out your cum with a happy hum.
"P-Please." You tugged at his hair, pulling him off you with a sob. "I-I can't anymore Logan."
"'M not fuckin' finished," he said, eyes glazed and face coated in your slick.
You made a mess of his face. The light catching along where you spilled into his mouth and along his throat. And still he wanted more. He'd spend hours between your thighs, burning your skin with his beard, if it meant he could divulge in your sweetness.
"It hurts-"
A grunt rumbled in his chest, his arms tugging you back even as your feet kicked along his back. "Just one more honey. Yeah?"
You shook your head. "B-But-"
"Thought you said it was good."
"It is."
"Then lemme be good for you." He wanted to tell you that the world went quiet between your thighs. That all his grief, all his pain, lessened when you sobbed his name.
He wanted to show you the string that looped his heart to yours—the only thing keeping him alive—and thank you for bringing him back from the dead. But words weren't his forte. Violence had become the only tenderness he knew and you didn't deserve the rough edges of an old man. You should have more.
But when you let him touch you like this—caress your skin and lick between your folds—he felt as if he was a man who finally was worthy of someone as precious as you. He could pretend he didn't bear the brunt of a fucked up soul.
The weight on his chest lifted when your tear filled gaze met his and you nodded. Small, barely there, but it was enough for him to seal his mouth back over you with a ragged moan. Your body shook as his tongue slid through the seam of your pussy. The tip nudging against your clit—careful to draw the pleasure from your body slowly.
He didn't want to give you pain. His heart wouldn't survive that. But he was a broken man; someone who begged for more even as his teeth sunk into what was already given.
You were his meal. His sacrament in the midnight hours until dawn broke across the darkened sky. You were the other half of his soul.
How could he not indulge in your sweetened tang until his tongue went stiff?
"I love you," you sighed, eyes rolled back when he sucked at your pussy, a wet low moan echoing in the air. "My p-perfect husband."
The cold press of his wedding band against your thigh drove him over the edge. You weren't officially married. Didn't have the backyard wedding with a preacher to match. But Logan had placed a ring on your finger near a year ago, sliding one over his own with the vow of forever cemented in his words.
Even if that didn't mean much in the eyes of a god who abandoned him near a century ago.
"Oh-"
Your head tipped back, mouth dropping open as his fingers dipped into your wet heat. Thrusting lazily until he found the spongey patch along your walls—driving the pad of his middle finger into it with a needy moan.
He knew it wouldn't take long for you to fly off the edge of a second release. That didn't make watching you climb to that peak any less satisfying. The sight appeased his soul. It gave him a chance to breathe; let him know that after so much bad—after so much pain—he could do something good. He could bring you to the edge of pleasure and drag you over again and again.
He could finally be the man you believed he was.
Not the animal they created.
"C'mon," he muttered. Eyes fixed on the shape of your breasts as your body curved off the bed. Hips dragging along his face with a stunted cry.
A wail bounced off the walls, piercing his eardrums with the symphony of your cries. His fingers rapidly pumped into you with a squelch that had heat burning his cheeks—lips pulling your throbbing clit into his mouth as you broke. The climax slammed into you; battering your already swollen pussy.
Logan could feel his cock swell at the sight.
"Fuckin' perfect," he grunted, teeth bared as he clambered to his knees and wrapped his fist soaked in your slick around his leaking cock. "'M gonna cum sweetheart."
Your eyes fluttered open, fingers digging into his thigh. "Please. Wanna see it baby. Look so pretty when you cum Logan."
His chest tightened, body shaking while you watched in rapture as he fucked his fist rapidly. He wouldn't fucking last, could feel the burning consume his body, but something held him back. The string around his heart yanked him away from the edge, tearing a cry from his throat when his frustration peaked.
You could see it—the glimmer of need in his dark eyes. This wasn't the first time he longed for your words. It certainly wouldn't be the last.
So you spread your legs and sat up slowly—arms wrapping around his shoulders to bring his lips down to yours. A soft moan was muffled by your mouth; the peak of his release within reach. He could practically feel the tips of his fingers graze it.
"Cover my pussy baby," you mumbled into his mouth. "Be good for me and mark what's yours."
The growl came from the very bottom of his chest when he finally came. Your name was a bitten out snarl pressed to your mouth in an open mouth kiss as he spurted over his knuckles. He pumped his cock to milk every drop; eyes fixed on the way it covered the swollen lips of your pussy. Dripping down to your entrance that fluttered at the sight of his sweaty and crimson tinged face.
"I fuckin' love ya honey," he murmured, hand cupping your chin to drag your lips back to his. "Best thing that's happened in my life is you."
You smiled, thumbs pressing to his cheeks. "Love you too Logan."
Clutching you close, he felt the string go loose. The breath finally rushing back into his lungs at the sight of your eyes glowing with the kind of light that brought him back to the first day The night he met you in that shitty bar—alcohol the only thing on his mind until he saw you.
The night you spoke his name over his covered grave and dragged him back to life with a smile.
#logan howlett x f!reader#logan howlett x reader#logan howlett x you#logan howlett x y/n#logan howlett smut#old man logan#my writing
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Mizu, femininity, and fallen sparrows
In my last post about Mizu and Akemi, I feel like I came across as overly critical of Mizu given that Mizu is a woman who - in her own words - has to live as a man in order to go down the path of revenge.
If she is ever discovered to be female by the wrong person, she will not only be unable to complete her quest, but there's a good chance that she'll be arrested or killed.
So it makes complete sense for Mizu to distance herself as much as possible from any behavior that she feels like would make someone question her sex.
I felt so indignant toward Mizu on my first couple watchthroughs for this moment. Why couldn't Mizu bribe the woman and her child's way into the city too? If Mizu is presenting as a man, couldn't she claim to be the woman's escort?
However, this moment makes things pretty clear. Mizu knows all too well the plight of women in her society. She knows it so well that she cannot risk ever finding herself back in their position again. She helps in what little way she can - without drawing attention to herself.
Mizu is not a hero and she is not one to make of herself a martyr - she will not set herself on fire to keep others warm. There's room to argue that Mizu shouldn't prioritize her quest over people's lives, but given the collateral damage Mizu can live with in almost every episode of season 1, Mizu is simply not operating under that kind of morality at this point. ("You don't know what I've done to reach you," Mizu tells Fowler.)
And while I still feel like Mizu has an obvious and established blind spot when it comes to Akemi because of their differences in station, such that Mizu's judgment of Akemi and actions in episode 5 are the result of prejudice rather than the result of Mizu's caution, I also want to establish that Mizu is just as caged as Akemi is, despite her technically having more freedom while living as a man.
Mizu can hide her mixed race identity some of the time, and she can hide her sex almost all of the time, but being able to operate outside of her society's strict rules for women does not mean she cannot see their plight.
It does not mean she doesn't hurt for them.
Back to Mizu and collateral damage, remember that sparrow?
While Mizu is breaking into Boss Hamata's manse, she gets startled by a bird and kills it on reflex. She then cradles it in her hands - much more tenderly than we've seen Mizu treat almost anything up to this point in the season:
She then puts it in its nest, with its unhatched eggs. Almost like she's trying to make the death look natural. Or like an accident.
You see where I'm going with this.
When Mizu kills Kinuyo, Mizu lingers in the moment, holding the body tenderly:
And btw a lot of stuff about this show hit me hard, but this remains the biggest gut punch of them all for me, Mizu holding that poor girl's body close, GOD
When Mizu arranges the "scene of the crime," Kinuyo's body is delicate, birdlike. And Mizu is so shaken afterward that she gets sloppy. She's horrified at this kill to the point that she can't bring herself to take another innocent life - the boy who rats her out.
MIZU'S ONE MOMENT OF SOFTNESS AND MERCY, COMING ON THE HEELS OF HER NEEDING TO KILL A GIRL TO SPARE HER THE WORST FATE THAT THIS RIGID SOCIETY HAS TO OFFER WOMEN, AND TO SPARE A BROTHEL FULL OF INNOCENT WOMEN WHO ARE THE CASTOFFS OF SOCIETY, NEARLY RESULTS IN ALL OF THEIR DEATHS
No wonder Mizu is as stoic and cold as she is.
And no wonder Mizu has no patience for Akemi whatsoever right before the terrible reveal and the fight breaks out:
Speaking of Akemi - guess who else is compared to a bird!
The plumage is more colorful, a bit flashier. But a bird is a bird.
And, uh
Yeah.
I like to think that Mizu killing the sparrow is not only foreshadowing for what she must do to Kinuyo, but is also a representation of the choice she makes on Akemi's behalf. She decides to cage the bird because she believes the bird is "better off." Better off caged than... dead.
But because Mizu doesn't know Akemi or her situation, she of course doesn't realize that the bird is fated to die if it is caged and sent back home.
Mizu is clearly not happy, or pleased, or satisfied by allowing Akemi to be dragged back to her father:
But softness and mercy haven't gotten Mizu anywhere good, recently.
There is so much tragedy layered into Mizu's character, and it includes the things she has to witness and the choices she makes - or believes she has to make - involving women, when she herself can skirt around a lot of what her society throws at women. Although, I do believe that it comes at the cost of a part of Mizu's soul.
After all, I'm gonna be haunted for the rest of this show by Mizu's very first prayer in episode 1:
"LET" her die. Because as Ringo points out, she doesn't "know how" to die.
Kind of like another bird in this show:
#blue eye samurai#mizu#akemi#kinuyo#bes#women are birds okay they are BIRDS#the let me die line is so SCARY AND SAD like a part of Mizu wants death but she cant? she doesnt know how?? excuse you show???#when all these other delicate birds are dying all around her#akemis character gets more and more gutwrenching upon subsequent rewatches because whenever she says her life is in danger#NO ONE BELIEVES HER - certainly not other women#because shes rich and pampered and that means shes safe and is worrying about nothing right? right?????#and it turns out that all of akemis instincts were right and she was in danger the ENTIRE TIME#also I need to make a post just for kinuyo because I am sad
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ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི₊ ⊹ thinking about bf!suguru giving you head for the first time and he’s such a fawking tease.
“c-c….u…g-g? sugu i don’t knowww please gimme more,” you sniffled, tugging at his jet black locs. suguru lifted his head from between your thighs, a shiny sheen of your essence coating his lips and chin.
“cmon baby use that brain, i know you know this,” and with that he went back to tracing letters against your clit. he was sure you’d figure out soon enough he was spelling his name. you bucked your hips up in protest, only for him to push you back down again, pinching your thigh as a warning.
you gripped the soft cotton of your sheets tightly, your thighs beginning to tremble from the never ending teasing. “s-s…u…g…*sniffle*…u…r-r…u-u? o-oh my goodness!” the second you got the last letter right suguru wrapped his lips around your swollen clit, his tongue drawing sloppy circles around it. your body went completely limp as he devoured you, the obscene sounds of him licking and sucking at your pussy echoing throughout your room.
suguru pulled his head back to look at your pussy in all its glory—glistening and puffy jus waiting for him to make her cum. “look at me,” his voice was low as he spoke, his tatted hand drawing hearts n swirls on the fat of your thigh. you sat up on shaky elbows, now locking eyes with suguru. without breaking eye contact with you his tongue lolled out, a glob of spit falling onto you throbbing clit.
you gasped, your thighs twitching at the action. he smirked at you, running his tongue over his bottom lip, “mm you like that cutie?” he asked, squeezing your thigh. you nodded slowly, your pupils dilating. suguru spread your folds, eyes flicking back to yours, “wan’ me to do it again?”
you didn’t say a word, instead bucking your hips up in need, a whimper bubbling in your throat. suguru flashed you grin, reminding you once more to keep your eyes on his before he spit on your pussy again, fighting back a chuckle at the way you whined. you were too cute.
“you’re such good girl…good pussy too, tastes so sweet i can stay down here all night. will you let me y/n? i promise i’ll treat her real good…real good,” suguru’s mouth latched onto your clit again, his hand reaching up to grasp at your breast over your tank top. you gave him a hand, pulling your top down to to expose your chest. “such a sweet girl,” he murmured against your pussy, nibbling gently on your clit.
suguru groaned when he felt both of your hands begin to tug at his hair roughly, pulling him impossibly closer to your center. geto was never one to deny someone of taking charge so he let you take the reins, his tongue completely lolling out of his mouth to allow you to use him.
you were restless, practically humping geto’s face as the knot in your stomach got tighter n tighter. suguru moaned rather loudly, his eyes rolling into the back of his head as you fucked his face. the second your needy eyes locked with geto’s just as needy ones you were cumming with a loud squeal, your hand slapping his shoulder out of instinct.
suguru pulled your body as close to his face as he could, licking and slurping up your cum as if he were a man starved. you rode out your orgasm as long as you could, your thighs beginning to shake from sensitivity. “o-okay sugu okayyy,” you whined, pushing at his head, but he just wasn’t letting up. his arms were now locked around your thighs, securing your pussy nice n close to his face.
“can’t stop now baby, not when i know i can make you cum harder than that,” his voice was sooo breathy and shaky, almost as if he’d came himself……
yeah, he came in his pants while you were cumming in his mouth sue him!
#i could just eat him#URRGGHH I NEED DAT!!!#geto smut#suguru geto smut#geto suguru smut#geto x black reader#geto suguru x black reader#geto suguru x reader#jujutsu kaisen smut#jujutsu kaisen x black reader#jujutsu kaisen x reader
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Home Cooked Meal
CHAPTER 4 | ASHES TO EMBERS
can be read as a stand alone :)
PAIRING: Firefighter!Neighbour!Bucky x Fem!Reader
WARNINGS: Smut (finally) - dirty talk, pet names, oral f and m receiving, fingering, tit play, praise kink, hand kink?, ball play, hair pulling, unprotected PinV sex, aftercare, reader and bucky have dinner, swearing, fluff, let me know if i missed anything!
SUMMARY: You surprise Bucky with a home cooked meal after his shift, and it’s the best damn thing he’s had in years. The pasta was pretty good too.
WORD COUNT: 10550 (ngl i rechecked this three times cuz i didn’t think i wrote this much but turns out i did in fact write over 10k words im sorry lmao)
PREVIOUS CHAPTER // NEXT CHAPTER
Call me when you get home x
Your text still sits on Bucky’s lock screen, read but not opened, as he gets changed out of his work clothes.
It’s fair to say that the message intrigued him when he first read it half an hour ago, just before he left the firehouse. His legs sped up your building stairwell faster than normal, desperate to find out why you’re awaiting his call.
Knowing you would have said so if you were in immediate danger, Bucky sifts through the multitude of possibilities that await him on the other side of the ring tone; none of which ease the butterflies in his stomach.
He walks to his kitchen, phone in hand, to get a glass of orange juice. Pulling up your contact page, he presses ‘call’ and grabs the carton of juice from the fridge door.
You answer after just one ring, eager to hear his voice.
“Hey, Barnes!” God, Bucky loves your voice.
“Doll.” His voice is soft, tone rising at the end with curiosity. “You asked me to call, what’s up?”
The firefighter swoons at the adorable giggle you let out, the sound distant from the mic as though you’ve tried to hide it. “I was worried you didn’t see my text.” You admit.
Bucky pictures you biting your lip anxiously, an accurate prediction for your current state.
“What are you doing right now?”
Glancing down at the yet-to-be-filled glass in front of him, Bucky leans a hand against the kitchen island. “Just about to get a drink, what are-“
“Don’t!” You cut in. “Don’t get a drink, I need you to come over.”
“What, now? What’s wrong?”
“Nothings wrong, James. Just come knock, okay? I’ll see you in a minute!”
And with that, the call cuts off with a dull beep; Bucky brings the phone down from his ear and stares at it in confusion. You’re being weird, never having hung up on him like that before.
Alpine meows from above the fridge, drawing her owner’s attention away from the phone, only to tilt her head at him.
Even Alps is confused.
Deciding to just do what you told, Bucky slips his phone into the pocket of his dark jeans, returns the orange juice to the fridge and sets off for the front door. He finds himself checking over his appearance in the entry way mirror, eyes scanning over his outfit before he smooths out his hair.
Although he won’t admit it, Bucky’s spent a lot more time in front of that mirror lately; checking his collar isn’t twisted, his hair isn’t too messy and there’s nothing stuck in his teeth. The need to look good, to look good for you, hasn’t gone unnoticed by his colleagues.
He considers using the spare key you gave him and letting himself into your apartment but shakes the thought away.
She asked you to knock, Bucky. Not break in.
With one final nod in the mirror, Bucky leaves his apartment, stepping into the hallway he’s spent so many mornings and nights in with you.
Old jazz music greets his ears when he approaches your door, the soft melody sneaking through the cracks of the door frame. Bucky smiles to himself at the thought of you dancing in your kitchen, heart warming when he notices your humming.
Knocking thrice, the firefighter steps back and nervously stuffs his hands into his pockets. You always make him nervous, those darn butterflies stirring in his stomach whenever he’s about to see you. And when he does see you. Actually, they’re there even when he imagines seeing you.
He takes a breath when he hears you shuffling up to the door, but nothing could prepare him for the sight when it swings open.
Rusty red fabric flows from your neckline to the middle of your thighs, small flowers dotted over the slightly orange colour. Two thin straps perched on your shoulders leave plenty of skin on show as your usual sun-pendant necklace sits between the v-neck of your dress. Which, by the way, perfectly presents the soft swell of your breasts.
It takes everything Bucky has to not drool at his breathtaking neighbour, but it takes even more to not dive on you and finally taste those pink lips.
Your skin is ablaze beneath his eyes and you revel in his reaction, the exact response you wanted when you pulled on the dress two hours ago.
“We’re matching.” You grin, taking a moment to enjoy Bucky’s red henley.
“It’s almost like we planned it.” A chuckle escapes him, eyes trailing up from your thighs to meet yours.
“Speaking of plans,” You reach out to pull Bucky closer, tugging his forearms until he pulls his hands out of his pockets, “I have a surprise for you.”
Is it letting me look at you in that dress all evening? Your neighbour thinks - hopes - as you lead him into your apartment.
Closing the door behind him, you take his hand in yours once more to guide him to your little kitchen/diner area. If you weren’t looking ahead, you’d see Bucky’s cheeks flushed pink at your touch. Seeing your hand encompassed with his own will never fail to drive him crazy.
When he eventually looks up from your joined hands, he’s stunned to a halt. You turn back to him when you feel him plant his feet and your features twist into a nervous expression.
“I- Doll, what is all this?” The firefighters eyes are wide at your ‘surprise’.
Your small dining table is set up for two; cream place mats lay beneath charcoal gray pasta dishes with wine glasses sitting at their corners. There’s even a little vase with pink and yellow tulips in between the two spaces.
“Well, remember that time when you told me you haven’t had a proper home cooked meal in years?” You watch Bucky closely as you speak, waiting for some sign of approval.
“You mean this morning?” He turns to you in wonder, thinking back to your conversation as he gave you a lift to the cafe. “I don’t know what to say, doll.”
You roll back on your heels, hands scrunching your dress at your sides. “Is it okay? I know it’s a little cheesy and it’s last minute but I thought it would be a nice surprise for you after working all day. I mean, it’s not exactly at your home but it’s pretty cl-“
Bucky takes two long strides towards you and brings his hands to cup your cheeks; your words die on your tongue when he looks down at you with tender eyes.
“It’s perfect, Y/n.” He smiles, stroking his thumb over your cheek bone. “You could feed me Alpine’s food and i’d still bow at your feet, sweets.”
Now you’re the one blushing. You heart skips when Bucky’s eyes drop to your lips with hunger in his gaze.
“Always so good to me, aren’t ya?” His words tempt a whimper from deep within you, a submissive whine held back by the last of your restraint.
“Well-“
The oven beeps, its sharp tone darting between your bodies and making you step back from Bucky’s hold.
“Uhh” Your mind is all over the place as the firefighter watches you with amusement, “I- I should, I mean- the pasta must be-“
“Go, doll.” Bucky shakes his head laughing quietly.
Your dress sways as you spin away to the stove, stirring various pots and tidying up the counters. Your neighbour watches you in awe, unashamedly enjoying the view; you just look so goddamn sexy in that cute little dress while you cook for him. He wishes he could come home to this every night.
“You need a hand with anything, doll?” Bucky’s voice sounds from behind you.
“Actually, yeah!” You glance over your shoulder. “Come here.”
If you keep bossing him about, Bucky’s gonna struggle not to tear that sweet little sundress right off you.
Settling in at your side, Bucky cocks his head. “What d’ya need?”
You scoop some of the creamy tomato sauce onto a spoon and bring it to Bucky’s lips. “Try this for me.”
With bated breath, you watch his full lips wrap around the end of the spoon, his eyes bearing into yours as he drags the sauce into his mouth.
Bucky has no business looking as dirty as he does in this moment; you watch his adam’s apple bob as he swallows before his tongue juts out to catch a few missed drops. And just when you thought your panties would survive the sight, a moan ripples from his throat and you clench around nothing at the sound.
“Good?” You murmur, hoping he doesn’t notice when you cross your legs.
He notices.
“Delicious,” Bucky takes the spoon from your hand and stretches across you to place it back in the pan, his right hand brushing against the small of your back, “you did great, sweets.”
Fuck. Me.
You regather your composure and ask Bucky to get the wine from the fridge. He pours you both a glass, setting them back on the dining table gently before returning the bottle to its home.
“Hey, could you bring the bowls over, please?” You call over your shoulder.
You plate up the sauce coated pasta while Bucky places the dirty pans in the sink, both working around each other like a fine tuned machine.
Before you can do it yourself, Bucky is picking up the bowls and laying them on the place mats, winking at you as he does so. He pulls your chair out for you, nodding for you to join him.
“For you, Madame.” He jokes, allowing you to sit down while tucking you in.
You watch him round the table and take his own seat. “And they say chivalry is dead.”
Bucky grins at you. The orange glow of sunset shines through your windows, catching your features with grace. Your eyes shine beneath the light and Bucky can’t help but find you angelic.
“You’re beautiful, doll. I don’t know if I said that earlier but, god, you look stunning tonight.”
Dropping your head, you play with the hem of your dress shyly. Your hair falls into your face, forcing you to push it behind your ears, though Bucky wishes he was close enough to do it himself.
With rose tinted cheeks, you look up at Bucky through your lashes. “You say that to all your neighbours, Barnes?” You raise a brow with your teasing voice.
Bucky throws his head back and laughs heartily, a sound you’ve come to adore.
“Only the ones who cook for me.” He winks.
“Doesn’t Ms Scott bring you pies every couple weeks?”
“And I tell her she looks ravishing every time.”
You giggle and tell Bucky to dig in, though you could happily sit and talk all night. While you both stop every now and then for a forkful of food, conversation bounces between you as it always does.
Tonight isn’t much different to a typical evening with the firefighter next door; usually you share some snacks and beers, cozying up on the couch as you watch tv. It’s become ritual for you to send Bucky a video of you playing the piano each evening, his phone playing the video on loop as he sleeps. It’s strange, but the music creeps into his dreams and keeps them peaceful, keeps him away from that burning building.
It’s been a few weeks since the night he was sent home early. Both you and Bucky felt a shift that night; waking up in his arms left you craving more, though you’ve yet to tell him as much. You left him sleeping peacefully that morning when you left for work with only a couple hours of sleep under your belt.
Bucky hated waking up to find the other side of his bed empty, no longer feeling your heat. The note you left him eased the disappointment slightly, your neat handwriting promising to come back in your breaks. Neither of you have addressed how right it felt to sleep beside each other that night, despite spending all of your free time together with unspoken words hanging over you.
Instead, you dance around each other like two ghosts doomed to never touch. The bond between you is stronger than any you’ve ever had, the magnetic lure undeniable for you both.
Your glasses have been emptied and refilled twice now - dinner long since been finished - and you’re starting to feel the buzz; those butterflies in your stomach have turned into a swarm of confidence, your brain taking a backseat from its usual overthinking.
“You expect me to believe that you broke down the door before Sam could? The same guy who beat you at your physical a few weeks back?” You tease the brunette, a challenging brow raised at his rather unimpressed face.
“What are you trying to say there, doll?”
Bucky’s jaw clenches when you tilt your head slightly, eyes shining with amusement beneath the exposed hanging light bulbs.
“Nothing to worry your cute little head about.” You watch Bucky relax into his chair slightly as you reach for your glass with a smirk. “Just that I doubt Sam has any difficulty kicking a door down, not with the way he’s built.”
The scoff to end all scoffs ripples from your neighbours throat; his bright blue orbs glare into you and his features twist into a scowl. Oh if looks could kill…
Bucky’s tone is flat, “Didn’t know you were such an admirer of Wilson’s build, Y/n.”
The lack of a pet name sends your confidence wavering, but not enough to keep you from having a little fun.
“Well, you know,” You bring the glass to your lips, “he’s hardly difficult to miss.”
Watching the deep ruby liquid pass over your lips, Bucky fights to hide the fury that’s flooding his veins, forced to look away from your smug grin.
He knows, he knows, that you’re lying through your teeth, trying to get a rise out of his usually impenetrable facade, and yet he can’t help but feel jealous.
Bucky’s painfully aware that he has no right to feel so possessive, not when he lays no claim to you. But the twist of his stomach is proof that he doesn’t much care.
“Maybe I should just give you his number and you can cook him a meal next time.” Bucky grumbles.
“Oh, that’s alright, I already have his number.”
You’ve never seen Bucky’s head snap up as quickly as it just did, his gaze pinning you to your spot.
“You what?”
Gently, you place your glass back on the table. “Yeah, Steve gave him my number last week so he could get in touch.”
The fire in those blue eyes burns brighter with each word, his body so still that his chest is barely moving when he breathes. In fact, you’re not even sure if he is breathing. Hell, he’s not even sure if he’s breathing.
“Is that right?” Bucky’s gruff voice is laced with possessiveness, the low tone travelling straight to your panties till you swear you feel yourself throb. You wonder briefly if you have a jealousy kink and the sweet arousal dripping from your cunt only confirms your suspicions.
“Mhm.” You hum in response, “In fact, i’m going out for coffee with him next week.”
“Huh.”
Bucky’s chair screeches against the hardwood floor as he pushes himself back. You follow his movements with amused eyes when he stands up and grabs your plates before storming to the kitchen. You twist in your chair, watching him place the dishes in the sink and flick on the tap.
“James, what are you doing?” You ask.
“What does it look like i’m doing?” Oh he’s grumpy, grumpy.
Bucky’s shoulders are tense beneath his tight henley, his sleeves now rolled up as he starts scrubbing at the plates. It’s quiet while he concentrates on his work, only accompanied by the music still flowing from your speaker.
From the corner of his eye, the firefighter sees you rise from your chair, ears honed in on the sound of your feet pattering towards him.
It’s now hard for Bucky to focus on anything but your breath on his neck, goosebumps littered across his skin like a rash. You stand right behind him, tracing your fingers up from the small of his back; Bucky’s muscles tense momentarily before melting at your touch, just like always.
“Ask me why i’m seeing Sam next week.” You order, hands still roaming the taut fabric on Bucky’s back. The command makes him pause and clench his eyes shut. Why are you making him talk about this when it’s tearing him apart?
The brunette turns in your hold but you don’t release him, instead settling your hands on his waist.
“Why are you seeing him, doll?” Bucky sounds despondent, brows furrowed in confusion as he looks down at you.
“He asked me to teach his nephews to play the piano, Buck. I’m meeting him and the boys on Wednesday, Sarah too.”
A shocked ‘What’ tumbles from his lips as the information sinks in, his frown slowly falling away as he processes your words.
“Yeah…” You grin, though it’s more like a smirk, content with yourself proving he was jealous.
In a desperate attempt to save his ego, Bucky rolls his eyes playfully. “I knew you weren’t really attracted to that dumbass.”
You scoff and pat his chest lightly. “Sure you did, Barnes. Now scoot, you wash ‘em, i’ll dry ‘em.”
With his hands on his hips, he stays still as you nudge your way to his side, stretching to the window sill where your dish towels lay. Bucky’s never been in this position before, it’s always him who’s teasing you; this is new territory for him and it irks him that you riled him up so easily.
Once he shakes his head clear, the firefighter returns to face the sink and starts washing the dishes again. You wait patiently while he works, humming along to whichever song is playing.
“You like the old stuff, huh doll?” Bucky grins warmly at the slight sway of your hips, your radiance beaming like a lantern.
You giggle sheepishly and bite your lip, unknowingly sending Bucky spiralling. “I thought it was fitting for tonight, really leaning into the whole ‘housewife’ role.”
He raises a brow, “Does that make me your doting husband then, sweets?”
Realising what you said, your cheeks heat up instantly and your eyes widen. You attempt to backtrack but your words stumble over one another as though you’re a little school girl.
Bucky, however, is basking in the familiarity of control; your rosy cheeks never fail to bring a smile to his face, and boy is he beaming right now.
“I meant- It’s- You know what I meant, James.” You shoot daggers at him, though the idea of being married to your neighbour sends your heart into overdrive.
That swoon-worthy laugh greets your ears with haste, Bucky’s eyes crinkled at the corners as his chest reverberates with its force. It’s impossible to bite back the grin that’s fighting its way onto your lips.
Small tendrils of chestnut hair tumble from behind his ears, begging to be pushed back, but the buzz from the wine has dulled and you can’t find the confidence to do it, no matter how much Bucky’s eyes are pleading you to.
“You know, it’s sweet of you to teach the boys how to play.” He looks at you in adoration, the image of you spending time with Sam’s nephews triggering a warmth to spread in his chest.
A breathy laugh escapes you as your gaze falls to the kitchen counter. You blush at the compliment and slowly start drying the dishes again.
“Do you spend much time with them?” You ask with a brief glance his way.
Bucky shrugs, “Yeah, Sarah is always throwing barbecues for the squad. They’re good kids, and I bet they’ll love you!”
“Oh God, I hope so. I’ve never taught before and i’m scared they’ll hate me and i’ll destroy their dreams and-” You ramble away without noticing the frown tugging at your neighbours brows.
“Teach me.”
Huh?
“What?” You freeze.
“You said you’ve never taught before,” Bucky steps closer to you, his cologne swarming around you like a warm hug, “so practise on me. Teach me something.”
You almost laugh at his words, mind immediately jumping to the conclusion that he’s joking. But Bucky doesn’t move, his blue eyes study your own, body so still that you fail to conjure a laugh. He’s not joking.
Hesitation is written across your features, drawing a single shake of Bucky’s head. “Come on, sweets. Please? For me?” He pleads.
“Okay.”
It’s scary how quickly you succumb to Bucky’s wishes; you fear you’d do awful things if only he asked and you’d even do it with a smile. You’re so doomed.
With a triumphant grin, Bucky plucks the dish cloth and plate from your grasp and carefully places them on the sink’s edge, before taking your hand in his and guiding you to your piano.
Nerves prickling beneath your skin, you trail behind him and silently revel in his touch. It’s hard to not stare at his perfect body as you stumble around furniture, the sharp muscles of his shoulders rippling as he tugs you with him. Flicking off the speaker on the way, you fall onto the small piano stool beside Bucky, and with such little room, your left thigh is pressed up against his. The solid curve of his muscles prod into your flesh and yet despite the fluttering it causes in your stomach, you’re far more focused on his hands.
From the bulge of his toned biceps to the trail of prominent veins in his forearms, your eyes drag down Bucky’s arms till you pause at the sight of his large hands. They lay spread across the span of his thighs, his right pinky finger mere atoms away from your exposed skin where your dress has ridden up. You find yourself craving the sparks that alight with his touch, so you adjust your position to make sure your leg brushes against his hand.
It certainly hasn’t gone amiss to the firefighter that you’ve taken a liking to his hands. Sure, he’s caught you staring at them before, but the hunger in your gaze right now is greater than ever.
The corner of Bucky’s lip turns up into a smirk as he reaches for your hands once more, lifting them to rest on the ivory keys of your piano.
“Wanna hear you play me something before you give me a lesson.” He admits, his words more of a demand than a question.
When you fail to respond, still caught up in scanning the crevices of his calloused hands, Bucky nudges your shoulder.
You shake your head with a dazed frown, “Huh?”
A playful chuckle falls from his pink lips, “I said play me something, sweets, before you start teachin’ me.”
You giggle sheepishly, sighing an ‘Oh’ before you gather your thoughts. Bucky returns his hands to his lap - a movement you struggle to ignore - giving you free rein of the instrument.
Running through some songs you could teach him, you settle for one of your favourites, or more accurately, one of Bucky’s favourites. The cool surface of the keys is harsh beneath your fingertips, a stark contrast to the Bucky-induced-heat flushing through your veins, hands stretching into place as you prepare the opening chords.
Rhythmic tones swarm around the two of you as you begin playing, masterfully dancing across the keys like it’s a second language. Your graceful motions always bring Bucky to a halt as you entrap him in your art.
He recognises the song straight away, lips turning up at the sweet melody. You didn’t even have to ask to know what he wanted to hear, you just knew. Bucky’s head feels light at the sight before him. A knowing grin has settled on your soft lips, your body ever so lightly swaying to the music, clearly getting lost the sounds.
It’s impossible not to feel the adoring stare of your neighbour, no matter how hard you try to ignore it. Warmth is pooling in the depths of your heart where it feels like you’re bleeding out, your love for Bucky forcing out the blood till the only thing circulating through your veins is him. No longer able to cope with the feelings swarming within you, your fingers abruptly stop mid song before you turn to look up at the firefighter.
“Okay, your go.” You state, but when Bucky raises a bemused brow your way, you continue to instruct him. “Come on. You’re gonna do the left hand, I’ll do the right.”
“Yes Ma’am!” Bucky chimes with a mock salute, earning him a glare.
It takes a few tries to move his fingers into the correct positions, both because he’s apparently wholeheartedly incapable of doing what you say but also because you may or may not zone out every time the veins of his hands stick out as he moves. But it’s still entirely his fault though. Entirely. ‘Maybe like 98% his fault. That’s seems fair.’ You think.
“There you go!” You cheer when the firefighter successfully plays the right notes in tandem.
“Would you look at that, not so useless after all.” Bucky winks at you and you blush lightly.
Glancing at him hopefully, you ask him to play the first chord you taught him.
“Oh, umm-“ He stutters, fingers flailing about and pressing random keys in search of the right pattern.
“Here, let me…” You chuckle sweetly at how utterly lost he looks and move to help him.
Leaning forward, you drag Bucky’s fingers over the ridges of ivorite, slowly placing them on the correct keys. You feel his lust-filled eyes trained on your face while you work, though it’s getting harder and harder to focus under his stare.
A frown tugs at your brows when your mind goes blank as to where Bucky needs to put his left hand, his still-wandering gaze burning into you and spreading to your cunt faster than you care to admit.
Of course, Bucky notices your breath quickening, chest stumbling up and down with shaky pants. His proximity is intoxicating and the will to fight it is slowly slipping past you, fingers itching to trace up Bucky’s thick arms to his neck so you can finally pull his lips to yours.
Bucky reads every inch of your skin like he’s studying for an exam. From the clench of your jaw to your eyes fluttering shut, he knows that he’s winning this tussle for control.
“Bucky…” You breathe, the wavering sigh rolling from your tongue like a stray secret.
“Yes, doll?” Bucky smirks with glinting eyes and you bite back a whimper.
Opening your eyes, you keep them trained on where yours rest on his. “I can’t focus with you looking at me like that.”
Bucky knows exactly what you mean but he can’t help but toy with you. “Like what?” He cocks his head with faux innocence that fools no one.
You turn to look up at the firefighter, eyes meeting his half lidded ones, the blue of his eyes barely visible behind his lust-blown pupils but the blue you can see is so impossible dark that you wonder if they were ever light in the first place.
Taking a breath, you wet your lips so briefly that Bucky nearly misses it. Nearly. “Like you want to kiss me.” You say, barely above a whisper.
“Oh,” Bucky sighs, leaning in closer, “I want to do much more than that.”
Your body is alight with need. Craving his touch, a breach of the barrier between you, you practically whine your reply. “Then why are you just staring?”
“Well, I wanna remember you like this; sweet, angelic, so perfect in your little sundress.“
With the back of his hand, Bucky nudges the hem of your dress higher till his whole hand is spread against your thigh. You quash the aching desire to glance at where your bodies meet and lock your eyes on Bucky’s, whose lips are turned into a knowing smirk.
“Gotta savour it while I can.” He says as he pushes his palm further to your inner thigh, his pinky finger mere inches from your heat.
“Why?” You ask, heart racing.
It dawns on you that you may actually pass out when the firefighter leans in close to you, nose pushing your hair aside to expose the soft skin of your neck which now sits defenceless to his advances. The heat of his breath is electrifying, lips nearing your pulse point eagerly.
Bucky’s lips ghost over your skin as he explains, “Cause once I’ve had my way with you, you’re gonna be a hot fucking mess, sweets.”
A breathy moan tumbles from the depths of you chest at the crude insinuations of his words; your eyes flutter shut, an unintentional reaction that you’re grateful for as it hides the way your pupils roll to the back of your head.
Through the dark span of your eyelids, you picture exactly how Bucky will make you a hot fucking mess. Spread legs with his tongue delving through your folds, back arched as he pounds into your pussy with vigour, his hands guiding your hips back to meet his as he fucks you from behind. The images bear too much for you yet you can’t stop picturing the salacious scenes, not when your neighbour is pressing open-mouthed kisses to the side of your neck.
“James…” You sigh, voice carrying the weight of a thousand pleas.
“Yeah? Is that what you want?”
Nodding your head desperately, you whine, unable to form any words beneath his sinful tongue.
“Words, doll.” Bucky says, lips hovering over your ear. He’s struggling to hold back but can’t let himself touch you the way he wants to until he hears you spell it out for him.
Turning your head slowly, you peer at Bucky with half-lidded eyes and a slack-jaw. “I want you, James. Please.”
That’s all it takes to disintegrate the final remnants of the firefighter’s self-control before his full lips meet your own with a hunger that’s been brewing for months.
Bucky’s lips glide across yours, slotting between your own so easily it’s got you believing this is not your first kiss. It’s soft and sweet but so goddamn sensual that you can’t help but moan into his mouth, the now open gap giving him the perfect chance to slide his tongue inside.
You bring your hands up Bucky’s body and rest them on his neck, fingers tentatively feeding through the hair at the nape of his neck while you jostle for control of the kiss.
Forced to pull back for breath, you take a peek only to find those strikingly blue eyes already on yours.
“Fuck, doll,” Bucky whispers, “you don’t know how long I’ve been waitin’ for this.”
“Probably not as long as I have.” You scoff.
“Then let me make up for lost time.”
“Wait, what do y-“
Within moments, Bucky is lifting your legs over the bench and is knelt between them, his large hands teasing the hem of your dress as he keeps your thighs spread apart.
Your mouth is agape with surprise while you grab onto the piano behind you for stability, a mixture of nerves and anticipation coursing through your veins. And as if he can read your anxious thoughts, Bucky looks up at you with the most sincere expression across his soft features.
“Do you want me to stop?” He asks, despite the deep desire shining in his eyes. He wants you more than anything, but he needs to know you want him too.
It’s an easy answer and you’re shaking your head faster than you care to admit, but the memory of Bucky’s prior words flash through your mind and you still just as quick.
“No.”
Watching intently as he runs a hand from your ankle up to your knee, the firefighter rolls his bottom lip between his teeth when your breath hitches.
“Then promise me you’ll tell me if that changes?” Bucky asks.
You reach down and run your fingers through his chestnut locks, tucking the few loose strands behind his ear.
“I promise.”
“You’re gonna be the death of me, sweets.”
A hearty laugh reverberates through you, but you’re quickly silenced by Bucky’s lips on your inner thigh, eyes fluttering shut at the feeling. He kisses his way up to your heat, slowly pushing your dress higher and higher till the only thing between you and his mouth is the crimson lace panties covering your mound.
A sound you can only describe as a growl ripples through the room and you glance down at your neighbour to find him practically drooling at the sight of you. But then his eyes are on yours, his hungry, half-lidded eyes, and he’s tracing a finger over your clothed slit. Your breathing becomes laboured at his touch, your body, your mind, all of you at his mercy.
“Bucky, please…”
“Ah ah ah-“ The firefighter tuts, “-since when do you call me Bucky?”
You frown, back arching slightly in search of some friction on your core, too aroused to process his words properly.
“Look at me, Y/n.”
The stern nature of his tone lures your eyes to his once more. “What?” You ask, confused.
“I haven’t spent months goin’ crazy listening to you use my name only to have you call me Bucky when I’m finally between your legs.”
The throb of your pussy spurs you on and you tilt your head teasingly. “Touch me, James.” You say, and he obeys.
Bucky glides his hands up to your hips and drags your panties lower and lower, his lips chasing the lace till there’s no where left to kiss but your slick folds.
He hovers over your heat with bated breath before forcing himself to close his eyes and ask if you’re still okay with this.
“More than okay, James.” You answer truthfully.
“Good, cause I’m fucking starvin’.”
You feel his mouth on your pussy before you’ve even processed his words, tongue delving between your folds like he really is starving and you didn’t just feed him the best dinner he’s had in years. Though something tells him that title is about to be beaten the second you cum all over his face.
Your mouth curves into an ‘o’, the most pornographic of moans escaping you at the sinful sounds of Bucky’s mouth on your cunt. Drowning in increasingly intense waves of pleasure, your senses are dialled up to the max; with every flick of his tongue and suck on your clit, you find yourself falling deeper in your arousal. It becomes impossible to listen to anything Bucky’s telling you.
“Y’taste so sweet, doll.”
“Doing so good for me, aren’t ya? My good girl.”
“Let me hear you, doll, need to hear how good you feel.”
Whether it’s praises or orders, there’s no chance in hell of you understanding a word that falls from his lips, though Bucky doesn’t mind. The clench of your soft thighs around his head tells him all he needs to know - that even if your heads not fulling comprehending him, your body is. And the sheer amount of slick glistening across your cunt is enough for him to know that you’re ready for more.
The sensation of Bucky’s finger tracing along your pussy lips sends your eyes rolling to the back of your head and your hips lifting off the stool.
“James- oh fuck-“
Words die on your tongue when Bucky eases a finger inside you. White hot pleasure builds at your core, burning the last remnants of your self control, its embers coaxing a near-scream out of you.
“Fuck, that’s it, sweets. That’s- shit you’re so tight, pussy’s squeezing me and it’s just one finger.”
You mewl and squirm beneath him.
“How you gonna handle two of ‘em, doll?”
Bucky’s mesmerised at the sight of his finger gliding in and out of you, drenched in your sweet juices, too beautiful of a sight for him to give up by eating you out. But when you groan at the suggestion of two fingers, he drags his gaze upwards and is greeted with a view that’s evening better.
You, draped against the piano, head tilted back and brows drawn together while uneven sighs tumble from your swollen lips. God, you look heavenly, Bucky thinks. He doesn’t realise he’s said it out loud, but it makes little difference seeing as you’re rather preoccupied with the thought of Bucky fucking another finger inside you.
“James?” You call, reaching down to cover your left hand around the one at your sex, the other tugging on his hair.
“Yeah? Are you alright? Do you want me to stop?” He panics, thinking you’ve grabbed his hand to stop him.
Instead, you look him in the eye and say “Are you gunna fuck another finger inside of me or what?”
An awe-inspired grin spreads across Bucky’s face at your question. He keeps his blue orbs on yours while he presses a kiss to your clit and pushes himself higher till he’s inches from your face.
He rests a hand against the piano, caging you in and says, “Anything for my girl.” before a second digit joins his first.
The stretch knocks the wind out of your chest but Bucky hardly gives you any time to adjust, his fingers pumping in and out of you even faster than before. His palm slaps against your bundle of nerves with every thrust, the force riding to your chest where your tits bounce in rhythm.
“So damn beautiful…” The firefighter says.
You look up at him through your lashes and pull his lips to yours, tasting yourself on his tongue. With clashing teeth, the wet slapping sounds only feeds into the moment and Bucky’s suddenly very aware of the tightness in his jeans.
With each passing second, the cord in your stomach is getting so close to snapping that your mouth isn’t even moving against Bucky’s anymore.
“Fuck, James, I’m- I-“
“Shh, I know.” He presses a kiss to your forehead. “You gonna cum all over my fingers, doll? Gonna let me see you fall apart?”
You nod feverishly.
“Good girl, now let go for me.”
That’s all it takes for the damn to break loose and the fiercest orgasm of your life to rack through your body. It reaches every part of you, all the cracks and crevices you never thought could be touched, yet here you are, feeling every inch of yourself set on fire.
“That’s it, doll, that’s it.” Bucky comforts you while you lay victim to the aftershocks of his work, slowing the thrust of his fingers till your breathing evens and he moves to gently circling your sensitive clit.
“Holy shit…” You sigh, a satisfied and totally fucked-out grin playing across your lips.
Noticing how your hazy your eyes still are, Bucky smiles to himself while pressing loving kisses on your forehead.
“You did real good for me, sweetheart.” He listens to you hum beneath him as he moves to kiss your temple. “Y’look so pretty when you cum, you know that? Even prettier than I imagined.”
You twist in your seat to face your neighbour. “You’ve imagined this too?”
“Every night, doll.”
“Huh…”
Though Bucky’s eyes remain fixed on yours, it’s obvious that his mind has slipped away; he’s now clouded by memories of his x-rated dreams, ones that have ended with him pumping his embarrassingly hard length into his fist one too many times, and his cock twitches in his ever-tightening pants. You notice the movement at his crotch and, emboldened by his confession and the best orgasm you’ve ever had, you decide to take back some control.
“What have you pictured doing to me, James?” Your tone is so sweet, so innocent, that it takes a moment for your words to register in his brain. But when it does, boy, does a fresh wave of blood rush to his cock.
“You sure you wanna know? Cuz it ain’t all sweet and innocent.” He warns.
You say nothing and let your actions do all the talking; you slide a hand down to meet his left, the one still nestled between your sticky thighs, and tug it away from your cunt. With your eyes locked on his, you raise Bucky’s cum coated fingers to your mouth, slowly wrapping your lips around them and sucking your sweetness away. Making sure to give the firefighter a show, you swirl your tongue around his fingers before taking them as deep as you can, a knowing look in your eyes when you notice Bucky clenching his jaw.
After releasing his fingers from your swollen red lips, you press a kiss to the palm of his hand. “Tell me.”
What you can only describe as a growl rises from the back of Bucky’s throat and before you know it, you’re being carried to your bedroom, legs bound tightly around his waist while your arms wrap loosely around his neck.
He sits down on the edge of the bed; hands resting on your hips and edging lower to your ass, his fingers grip the supple flesh to keep you in place.
His force on your hips is pushing you down on his ample bulge, sparking a flash of pleasure straight up your spine that escapes you with a moan. Bucky chuckles softly with a sinful grin as you tilt your head back at the feeling.
“You wanna know what I’ve imagined us doing, doll?” The firefighter grabs your chin to bring your attention back to him. He runs the pad of his thumb over your bottom lip, tugging on it and letting it bounce back into place.
“I’ve pictured us just like this.” He drops his hand to your neck, tracing the curve of your collar bone till it meets the strap of your sundress. “You, naked and beautiful as ever, riding my cock like I know you can.”
You gasp lightly when he tugs your strap till it’s tumbling off your shoulder.
“And you’re telling me just how full you are, how stretched your little pussy is around me, choking my cock like a damn vice.”
Bucky’s filthy words send your hips into motion without warning; you grind your bare cunt over his crotch, the tent in his pants settling between your slick folds till his shaft is enveloped with your warmth.
“Does that sound good, doll? To have my cock buried inside you when you bounce on it? Fuck, I bet your cunt is dripping for me again,”
“It never stopped, James.” You whimper, your sensitive clit sending jolts up your frame as Bucky guides your hips over his.
“That’s right, you’re never gonna use anything else to cum ever again. You got me now, doll. I’m all you need. Me, my cock, I’m gonna ruin everyone else for you.”
You don’t even notice that Bucky’s hands are on the zip at your back, slowly pulling it down till the fabric are your chest goes slack, and with the straps already draped over your shoulders, the flowing material cascades around you, tumbling to your hips and leaving you defenseless to Bucky’s insatiable blue eyes.
“Fuck me, sweets, you’re- god- you’re perfect.” He leans in and kisses your collarbone. “So,” kiss, “So,” kiss, “perfect.”
Your eyes flutter shut, lost in the feeling of his touch, and Bucky smirks when he sees you. He teases a hand up your soft skin till it sits just beneath your tit, daring to reach up and play with you in the ways he’s always dreamt of.
“Is this okay?” He asks, earning an even more passionate grind of your hips as you push your chest closer to his open mouth.
He chuckles, “Needy, aren’t ya, sweets?”
You whine.
“Hmm, lucky for you, this is exactly what I imagined doing to you, what I’ve dreamt of for months…”
His lips wrap around your hardened nipple with haste, the warmth of his mouth a welcome sensation. He sucks at the sensitive nub, this tongue reaching out to soothe you afterwards. You throw your head back and moan loudly.
The sound of bucky loudly licking and sucking on your tits is driving you crazy, to the point where your hips are stuttering over his, practically drowning in the feeling till you have no control over your movements.
“God, I love your tits. Wanna act out every dream I’ve ever had of you. Fucking your tits, your throat, your cunt, anywhere you’ll let me, doll, please. I’ve needed you for so long.”
You blush at the word love, surpressing the hope that is stirring at the possibility that your tits aren’t the only thing he loves. Has he really wanted this as long as me? You wonder, picturing everything he just revealed he’s been wanting.
“M’So fuckin’ hard for you sweetheart, I know you can feel me. Dick’s throbbing, doll, it’s s’hard it hurts.”
You pull at his hair so he’s looking up at you again and capture his lips in yours.
“I wanna see you, Bucky…”
He groans and reaches for the hem of his shirt which he waists no time in tearing off. Your chest rises and falls heavier than before, eyes raking his physique just like you had that night he was leaving the shower at his place.
You trail a finger down his abs till it brushes the button of his jeans teasingly.
“All of you, James.” You look pointedly at his crotch. “May I?” You ask and when he nods, you climb off his lap and sink between his legs on the floor, you dress tumbling to the ground immediately.
Bucky’s abs tense as you work to undo the button, your hands tiny in comparison to his body. Next, you work the zipper up and over the bulge of his cock, the teeth desperate to come apart after being so constricted for so long. The two sides of denim snap away from the tent of his boxers, perfectly presenting where the firefighter so badly needs your touch.
He helps you kick off his jeans till the only thing between you is his boxers. You trace a finger up and down his shaft through the cotton, enjoying the sticky patch of pre cum leaking through the top.
“Have you ever imagined me sucking your cock, James?” You ask with half lidded eyes before kissing his covered shaft. “Cause I have.”
Bucky whimpers - whimpers - at your words, his hips snapping up to your face uncontrollably.
You begin to drag down his boxers, trailing kisses down down down, your lips greeting his tip when his cock flicks up against them before your eyes even get chance to glance at him.
Your eyes flutter shut at the salty taste on your lips, revelling in the breathy moans from your neighbour.
“Fuck- pl-please honey, I need your- argh- mouth around me!”
You make eye contact with him from your place on the floor and ask if he’s sure.
“More than anything.”
And with that, you take his thick length into your mouth, lips sealing around his angry pink cock head briefly when your trace your tongue over his slit, before gliding lower down his cock.
You take as much of him as you can, but you need time to warm up having never taken a cock as large as his before.
“You’re so big, baby.” You say as you pull off his shaft with a pop, “Biggest I’ve ever had in my mouth.”
A frustrated groan arises from the firefighter and you feel his hand on the back of your head, gently pushing you to his dick once more.
“Suck my cock, doll, just like we’ve both imagined, nice and deep, please.”
You take the base of his cock in your hands and guide his tip back to your lips.
“Atta girl,” Bucky encourages as you take him deeper and deeper.
He feels you relaxing your throat to take more of him and his balls clench at the feeling.
“Argh fuck, fuck, fuck. Good girl, oh my god, yes!”
His praises and curses cheer you on and you manage as much of him as you can, only an inch or so remaining that’s simply too thick to fit in your mouth. Lord knows how he’ll fit in your pussy, but you’re sure he’ll figure it out.
You bob your head on his length over and over till you’re in desperate need of air. You let your hands work your spit and his precum up and down his hard cock while you catch your breath and watch his beautiful face contort into one of extreme pleasure.
Your chest fills with pride at Bucky’s facial expressions; making him feel good is somehow more rewarding than anything you’ve done in your life and you find yourself content at the thought of spending the rest of your days pleasing him.
Bucky is oblivious to the gratified smile toying your lips and wholly unprepared for your next movement.
“Oh god- oh fuck, doll-” He groans, his breathing staggered and eyes clenched shut when you take his balls in your mouth, the skin sloppily wet from your work on his cock, and now enjoying the warmth of your mouth.
“Oh honey, do that again, felt so go- argh!” He’s interrupted by you tending to his sack once more, your tongue swirling around them and lightly sucking.
You moan around his pretty, swollen balls, the vibrations drawing a sigh of pleasure from your neighbour. The trimmed hair at the base of Bucky’s member is tickling your nose while you fight to taste every part of him.
With a final sharp suck, you release his balls with a small plop, plant a wet kiss on each and flatten you tongue to lick a bold stripe up his length. The tip of your muscle presses into the vein on the underside of his dick and Bucky thrusts upward, his hips bucking as he desperately searches for more.
As you ready yourself to glide his cock down your throat once more, you feel Bucky’s hand on your cheek, pulling you off him.
“What’s wrong? Did I do something?” You ask with a concerned frown, nervous that you’ve done something wrong to have Bucky stopping you. You wrap your hand around his forearm, the one outstretched to hold your hair, while the other remains enclosed around his cock.
“Nothin’ bad, sweets, it’s just that- fuck-“
You absentmindedly stroke your thumb over his girth, a motion you intend to be comforting but in reality, it just makes him throb even harder in your hands.
“-I’m not gonna last much longer if you keep using your pretty mouth like that.”
“And that’s a problem because…?”
He laughs lightly and tucks your hair behind your ear. “Cause as hot as you’d look swallowing my load, I’d much rather cum inside that sweet pussy for our first time.”
You roll your bottom lip between your teeth before pecking a doting kiss to his forearm and letting Bucky pull you to your feet. His eyes follow yours till he’s looking up at you from his seated position, his hands falling to your hips with an awestruck face.
“What the hell did I do to deserve you?” His voice is barely above a whisper. You blush crimson.
“Get on the bed, doll.” He orders. “Lay on your back.”
You do as he says and once you’ve settled, he crawls on top of you. It’s quiet for a moment as Bucky stares lovingly down at you, burning the image into his memory to remind him he has everything he needs.
“I should have found the guts to do this months ago…” You murmur, pushing the fallen tendrils of chestnut hair behind his ear. He looks so goddamn perfect; the golden glow filtering through your window catching every feature you’ve spent so long dreaming about, and now he’s here, really here, and you can’t help but stroke his cheek with revere.
“We have now, doll. That’s enough for me.” Bucky whispers. “Are you comfortable?”
You nod, truthfully, both in terms of your position but also for what’s coming. But then his elbows bend out and he’s lowering himself onto you.
“How about now?”
There’s a gleam in his eye and a playful smirk on his lips as he watches your chest heave, your body taking more of his weight now.
“No!” You giggle.
“No? Is this better?” Bucky teases, briefly laying his whole weight over you until you paw at his shoulders to push him off.
“James! You’re squishing me!”
The melody of your carefree laughter has Bucky melting and he pushes himself up onto his hands once more. His lip is tucked between his teeth, enjoying the view as he becomes increasingly aware of his cock now just one slip away from your pussy lips.
Quickly coming to your own awareness of Bucky’s rock hard length pressing into you, you sober up.
“Darling?” You tug on his bottom lip with the pad of your thumb.
Bucky’s brows pinch closer slightly.
“I need you inside me.”
His soft lips are crashing against yours within moments, his hand fighting between the nonexistent space between your bare bodies to grasp his cock and guide his tip to your bundle of nerves.
The sudden taste of how good Bucky can make you feel forces a sharp breath from you. It’s so much yet not enough, all at the same time.
“Tell me if you need me to stop, okay? Let me take care of you how you deserve.”
After a meek nod with your hands finding refuge in Bucky’s soft locks, he trails his cock head down your pink folds till it catches on the dip of your entrance.
Bucky tempts a whimper from you as he slides inside of you, your walls stretching to accommodate his larger than average member.
“Fuck, doll, you’re so tight for me.” The firefighter moans, resisting the urge to snap his hips and bottom out completely.
You’ve yet to make a sound, the sting in your pussy not yet dissipating, and when you glance down at where your bodies meet, you realise you’re barely taking half of him.
“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” Bucky’s reassuring voice is ghosting over your ear, “you’re taking me so well, sweets. You need me to go slower?”
You clench your eyes shut briefly, “No, keep going, you’re just so…”
“So what?”
Bucky watches a deep red creep up your neck before returning his gaze to your eyes, that now dance across the room avoiding him.
A gentle grasp on your chin draws you to face the breathtaking man above you and you clench around his dick.
“What happened to the little minx who was practically beggin’ me to fuck her, huh? Don’t get all shy on me now, dollface. I’m so what?”
His words have you spilling yours without second thought. “You’re so fucking thick, James, cock’s splittin’ me in half.”
He groans and snaps his hips fully into yours, making you scream out, “Jamie!!!”
His scalp burns when you pull on his hair harder than before, your moans filling the room like a broken record. Bucky should be focused on the furrow of your brow, your laboured breaths, the way your cunt is choking him, anything about how perfect this feels, but all he can focus on is how with one thrust, you called him ‘Jamie’. And you didn’t just say it, you screamed it.
“Shit, honey, say it again.”
“Ja-Jamie…” You whine and feel Bucky draw his hips back before pounding into you once more.
“Again.” Your neighbour growls.
“Oh my god, fuck- I”
“Again.”
It takes everything you have to open your eyes and look at him. “Fuck me, Jamie.”
“That’s my girl.”
Bucky drives his length into you till his tip is hitting your cervix, the pleasure wrapping around your throat and squeezing the air out of you. You fight to breathe as Bucky drills into you, over and over, softly grunting with every thrust.
“Never felt anything as good as your cunt before, doll. Wanna spend the rest of my life buried inside you.”
You pull his lips to yours and, back arching from the mattress, dive your tongue into his mouth with vigour. He lets you explore his mouth while fucking you deep and fast, the headboard of your bed slamming against the wall and probably driving your neighbour crazy. Oh wait, he is your neighbour, and it is driving him crazy, but in the best way imaginable.
“So goddamn tight, sweets, y’pussy was made for me,” He swallows your whimpers happily, “don’t you think? You feel how good i’m filling you up, honey? Sliding in an’ out so easy, you’re so fucking wet for my dick.”
“Harder, Jamie.”
Goddamn.
“Keep calling me that and I’ll do whatever you want.”
You lose yourself in his thrusts; the sting has long turned into the most pleasure you’ve ever felt, and that’s saying something after the orgasm he lulled from you only a few minutes ago.
“Fuckin’ me s-so good, Jamie.”
“Ah- just like that, baby.”
“I’m getting close, James, need you to go faster.”
Your pleas send Bucky’s cock pulsing and he does exactly as you wish. He fucks you faster, fighting off the desperate urge to cum inside your sweet cunt.
“Jamie…” You sigh.
He grins up at you from his place at your tits, his tongue reaching out to tease your nipples. You push his head down till he takes your sensitive bud in his mouth, sucking and swirling his tongue over it while he gropes its twin.
The tight coil in your stomach is twisting to its limit and you find yourself dangerously close to cumming around Bucky’s hard, thick length.
“I’m so- oh fuck- i’m so close, James.”
He lifts his head and eyes you with lust blown pupils.
“Are you gonna cum for me, doll? God, I can feel you clenching around me, you wanna cream all over my cock? Huh?” He smirks at your pornographic moans. “Bet I’ll look so good covered in your cum, sweets, maybe I’ll let you clean me up, put that mouth to good use.”
“I’m gonna cum, i’m gonna cum,” You chant several times breathlessly.
“Let go for me, sweet girl, make a mess o’my cock. Cum, doll.”
Your body shudders as your hips grind up into Bucky’s, your walls tightening before he feels you gush around him. Practically screaming in pleasure, you bite down on Bucky’s shoulder to quiet yourself, though the pain travels straight to his member, still fucking into you with force.
“Fuck, James, you’re so perfect, never came so hard in my life- shit-“
He’s groaning into your ear, his balls slamming against you and filling the room with salacious wet slaps.
“You’re so wet and- fuck- I can’t- I can’t hold back much longer.”
You tug on the hair at the nape of his neck and lick up the side of his throat, tongue catching the salty beads of sweat in its path. Reaching his earlobe, you suck on it lightly and whisper into his ear.
“Want you to cum inside me, Jamie. Fill me up, please, I need your cum.”
“Argh, fuck!!” Your words send Bucky over the edge and his hips stutter while he finally lets go.
“Oh god, yes!” Bucky grunts. “Take my cum, doll, fuckin’ take it.”
Your tongue seeks his neck once more, pressing open mouthed kisses as his cock shoots streams of white seed into you, the spurts seemingly never ending.
“Fillin’ my cunt so much, Jamie- fuck- you feel so good!”
As his cock softens, his thrusts slow to a more bearable pace, both of you so sensitive from your orgasms. Catching your breath takes a minute or two, but in the meantime, you coax satisfied sighs from your firefighter by running your hands up and down his back; the light sheen of sweat greets your fingertips as you touch him tenderly.
With no words being shared, you focus solely on Bucky’s breathing, the rise and fall of his back beneath your hands and the weight of his body on yours. It should be uncomfortable, but you’ve never felt so at home in a place, let alone with a person, in your life.
“That was…” Bucky murmurs into your neck.
You finish his sentence, “Pretty damn good.” Laughter ripples through the muscles of his back.
“Yeah,” He agrees and pulls back slightly to look at you, “you feeling okay?”
“If by okay you mean ‘completely and utterly fucked out’ then yeah, I’m great.”
You grin cheekily before pushing his hair behind his ear yet again, an act you find yourself praying that you’ll get to do for the rest of your life.
“How are you feeling?” You ask sincerely.
Those blue orbs flick between your own, laced with an emotion you hope to be love. “Like I want to be with you like this forever.” Bucky admits. “That and completely and utterly fucked out.”
You laugh heartily, bringing a beaming smile to Bucky’s swollen red lips.
“Let me clean you up, doll.” He offers before pushing himself off you, much to your dismay. He disappears to your bathroom for a minute before returning with a damp cloth in hand.
“Can you spread your legs for me, sweets?”
He bites a chuckle at how quickly you obey him and gets to work, wiping away your shared cum from your pussy and goosebump-ridden thighs. The towel is warm and soft on your skin, lulling you to sleep, though you fight to keep your eyes on your neighbour.
“You’re so beautiful, James.” You say, reaching to place your hand on his that sits beside you hip, where he’s leaning his weight.
He smiles sheepishly and focuses on the job at hand. Once you’re clean, Bucky carries you to the bathroom so you can do your business, waiting patiently outside after putting his boxers back on and grabbing his henley for you to wear.
When you step out of the bathroom, Bucky’s holding his he let out in front of you. “You looked a bit cold so I thought you might want a shirt?”
You smile, “Your shirt?”
“Yeah…” He rubs the back of his neck, muscles flexing at the movement, “You don’t have to, I just thou-“
He stops talking when you pull the henley from his grasp and tug it over your head. It swallows you whole and the sleeves tumble past your hands, but Bucky thinks it’s perfect. You’re perfect.
Grabbing his hand, you pull him back to your room and back into bed, tugging the sheets over you both where you nestle into his chest.
“You’re staying, right?” You ask with the most puppy-dog eyes you can muster.
“Of course, doll.”
Smiling to yourself, you curl up against the firefighter. “Woulda cooked you a meal months ago if I knew that’s all it took for you to finally fuck me.”
a/n: filth. pure filth. so sorry that it took me a lifetime to post this - life got lifey and it took me ages to get this right. it’s my second time writing any sort of smut so i hope it was good for y’all. thanks for all the support, it means the world to me. love you guys, red ❤️
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summary: when James moves into your apartment, you need a bit of an adjustment period
part 1 │ part 2 │ part 3 │ part 4 │part 5 │ part 6 │ part 7 │ part 8 │ part 9 │ part 10 │ part 11 │ part 12 │ part 13
roommate!James x shy!reader ♡ 1k words
You go downstairs the way a meerkat pokes its head out of its burrow. Cautious, watchful. When you spot James standing over a sizzling pan in the kitchen, it’s a bit of effort not to sigh, but you go anyway, hunger temporarily taking priority over solitude. It’s just going to have to be another quick meal.
“Hey.” James looks up from a recipe he’s reading on his phone, grinning at you.
You press your lips together in a smile of response. The girl who’d occupied James’ room before him wouldn’t have bothered to acknowledge you, and frankly, you’d liked her for that. You’d had a mutually ambivalent relationship; you’d both paid your rent, ignored the other’s food in the fridge, and gone about your days as if you each had the apartment to yourself. She had to move out because the maintenance crew tattled on her for having a pet, and though James only moved in a week ago, he’s invited you to hang out with his friends every time they’ve come over. Which is often. (He’s at least considerate enough to always ask first, and you always say yes. Partially because they don’t make huge messes and partially because you don’t know how to reply to a yes/no question any other way.)
You go to the fridge, tearing the aluminum foil off a half-empty can of beans and shaking it into a bowl. You put it in the microwave. James reaches to turn down the stove, and, like a frightened animal, you flinch away from him. He doesn’t seem to notice, only retreating to the opposite counter to give you more room.
“How’s your day going?” he asks, leaning back on his forearms.
“Not bad,” you say. Another thing about James is that in addition to his relentless geniality, he’s ferociously attractive. It takes all of your willpower not to let your eyes dip from his face to where his short sleeves conform to his biceps when he leans that way, but your face heats regardless. “Yours?”
“Pretty good, actually.” He smiles easily. “It’s gorgeous out, have you felt the weather?”
You shake your head. “I haven’t been out yet.”
James nods like he knows this already, humming noncommittally. You think you spy a bit of judgment in his look, but you can’t be sure. “So,” he says, “I have something to ask you.”
You tense. “Okay…”
“I know you value your privacy, and I totally respect that, but I feel like as your roommate it’s my responsibility to at least ask.”
You feel your eyes narrowing as you nod for him to continue.
James schools his face into seriousness, a frown on his lips that looks like it doesn’t belong. “Do you not eat?”
You laugh, relieved and bemused. “Of course I eat.”
The smile he gives you is strained, clearly for your benefit rather than his. “You sure about that? Because this morning I just saw you have one—one—piece of toast for breakfast, and then for lunch you had…what?”
You shy, more because of his notice than anything else. The microwave beeps and you use it as an excuse to turn around. “Some cheese and crackers.”
When you pivot with the steaming bowl, James is looking at you incredulously.
“They’re really filling!”
“That’s a snack, love, not a meal. Both of those are snacks. Did you have anything else?”
You hold up the bowl in your hand. “I’m about to have some beans.”
His laugh is monosyllabic. Appalled. “You’re not serious.”
You roll your eyes at him even as your face heats. “Listen, it’s not my most nutritious day, but I’ve been in a rush, and…” You were going to say more, but decide against it. “Anyway, there’s protein in the beans, so.”
James isn’t having it. “And what?”
“Nothing.”
“Something.” He raises his eyebrows at you. “C’mon, spill, or I’m going to call your mum and tell her about your big day of—“ He draws quotes in the air, full lips curving he does “—beans and crackers.”
“And toast,” you joke. James’ smile is small and short-lived. Does he really have your mum’s phone number? He can’t possibly.
You sigh. “Okay, it’s nothing to do with you, but I…I’m a bit weird about being in the kitchen at the same time.” James’ thick eyebrows meet in the middle, and your shoulders hunch instinctively but you force yourself to finish explaining. “I just want to grab whatever is quickest and go before I make things awkward, or something. But I know it’s stupid.” You shake your head. You could burn the apartment to cinders with the heat from your face. “I don’t own the kitchen. You have every right to be here, and I’ll get used to it eventually. It’s just that you’re new to me right now.”
James' expression clears. “Oh, you’re shy.”
You must look even more embarrassed at that, because he hurries to say, “That’s alright, it’s good to know how you feel about things. And now I don’t have to call your mum.” He grins, and it widens when you make a tiny effort to reciprocate. “I don’t mind stepping out of the kitchen so you can cook every now and then.”
“You really don’t have to.”
“It’s no trouble.” He waves you off. “Honestly, it’s too small for both of us to comfortably use at the same time anyway. Careful by the way, that pan’s hot.”
You glance behind you, and you’ve backed yourself nearly into the stove. You move away, squeaking out a thanks.
James’ smile softens. “I do hope you're right about getting used to me eventually, though.” He gives you a kind look, and you have no idea how he can maintain eye contact with that much sincerity in his big brown eyes. You envy the skill. “I’d like to get to be friends, but we’ve got time for that.”
You’ve no clue how to respond, some deer-in-the-headlights instinct taking ahold of you, but James doesn’t seem to be expecting one. He reaches out to squeeze your shoulder, taking back his place at the stove. You take that as your cue to go.
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Unspoken Desires | LN4
🌙 summary ━━━━━━━ Lando and Y/N have been dating for a few weeks but haven't been intimate yet. As they're getting ready to go out one night, Lando suddenly confesses his intense desire.
🌙 pairing ━━━━━━━ Lando Norris x she!reader
🌙 word count ━━━━━━━ 3.1k
🌙 warnings ━━━━━━━ +18, sexual content
"I’ve never wanted to fuck someone as badly as I want to fuck you right now," Lando said, his voice low and rough, cutting through the silence like a knife. His words hit her like a punch to the gut, leaving her breathless and hot all over.
She glanced up at him, her heart racing, and saw the intensity in his eyes—a raw, unfiltered need that made her own body respond in kind. He wasn’t hiding it, not even trying to play it cool. The way he looked at her, it was like he was seeing straight through to her core, like he knew exactly how much she wanted this too. And maybe he did. Maybe he’d been picking up on the little cues, the way her breath hitched when he got too close, the way her thighs pressed together when he leaned in to kiss her neck.
He had always been good at reading her.
---
It started about three weeks ago, during one of those late-night encounters that seemed harmless at first but quickly spiraled into something much more. They had been hanging out at his place, just talking, laughing, the kind of easy chemistry that makes time disappear. But then his hand brushed against hers, just a fleeting touch, and suddenly the air between them felt charged, electric.
"What are we doing?" she asked, unable to keep the nervous edge out of her voice.
Lando had leaned back in his chair, studying her for a long moment before answering. "I don’t know," he admitted, his tone measured but his eyes telling a different story. There was something there, something simmering just below the surface, and it wasn’t hard to guess what it was. Desire. Pure, unadulterated desire.
And yet, neither of them made a move. Not then, anyway. Instead, they fell into a rhythm, a dance that involved lingering glances, stolen touches, and endless teasing. It was intoxicating, thrilling, and frustrating all at once. Every time they got close, something held them back—a fear of ruining what they had, perhaps, or maybe just the uncertainty of where things were headed.
But tonight? Tonight feelt different.
---
The two of them were standing by the door, coats draped over their arms, ready to head out for the night. Or at least, she had been ready. Now, with Lando’s words still ringing in her ears, she could barely think straight. Her pulse pounded in her temples, and her skin felt overly sensitive, like it was buzzing with anticipation.
"Lando," she managed to say, her voice trembling slightly. "What… what are you saying?"
He stepped closer, crowding her space until there was only an inch or two between them. His hands found her hips, fingers gripping lightly but firmly, anchoring her in place. "I’m saying," he murmured, his lips brushing against her ear, "that I want you. Like I’ve never wanted anyone else. And yeah, maybe we’d only been dating a few weeks, but fuck it. I don’t care about playing it cool anymore."
His confession sent a shiver down her spine, and she felt her resolve starting to crumble. He wanted her. No games, no pretense—just raw, undeniable desire. It was overwhelming, but in the best possible way.
"Are you serious?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
Lando pulled back just enough to meet her gaze, his expression fierce and unapologetic. "Dead serious."
The weight of his words settled over her, heavy and irresistible. She could feel the heat radiating off his body, smell the faint scent of his cologne mingling with whatever he had for dinner earlier. It was intoxicating, drawing her in like a moth to a flame. And honestly? She didn’t want to resist.
"Then what are we waiting for?" she challenged, lifting her chin slightly.
A slow, wicked grin spread across his face, and for a moment, he didn’t say anything. Then, without warning, he grabbed her wrist and yanked her toward him, pressing his lips to hers in a kiss that was equal parts demanding and desperate.
Her bag slipped from her shoulder, hitting the floor with a dull thud as her free hand clutched at his shirt, pulling him closer. His tongue swept into her mouth, urgent and insistent, and she could taste the sharpness of his mint gum, mingled with a hint of something darker, wilder.
Lando’s hand slid up her side, tracing the curve of her waist until his fingers dipped beneath the hem of her top, brushing against the warm expanse of her skin. A soft gasp escaped her lips, and he took the opportunity to deepen the kiss, devouring her mouth like he couldn’t get enough of her.
"God, you feel so fucking good," he muttered against her lips, his voice rough and strained.
She tugged on the collar of his shirt, urging him closer, and he responded by lifting her effortlessly, setting her down on the nearby table. Her legs instinctively wrapped around his waist, pulling him flush against her. The sudden intimacy of the position made her breath hitch, and she could feel the evidence of his arousal pressing against her center, a delicious reminder of just how badly he wanted her.
"You feel so good," he murmured against her mouth, his voice low and gravelly, almost possessive. His fingers traced the curve of her hip, skimming over the fabric of her jeans before dipping beneath the hem. The touch was electric, sending shivers down her spine. "I can’t stop thinking about how perfect you are."
Perfect. The word made her heart stutter. She was far from perfect, but in this moment, with Lando looking at her like she was the only thing that existed, it didn’t seem to matter. His green/blue eyes bore into hers, stripping away any doubt, any insecurity. All she could see was the intensity in his gaze, the way it flickered with need.
"Lando…" she breathed, her voice shaky. Her hands found his shoulders, gripping him tightly as if he might disappear if she let go.
He responded by pressing her harder against the table, his hips aligning with hers. The friction sent a jolt of pleasure through her, unrelenting and undeniable. His lips left hers, trailing down her jawline, nipping at the sensitive skin just below her ear. "Tell me you want this," he whispered, his breath hot against her skin. "Tell me you want me."
Want. The word hung heavy in the air, a demand disguised as a plea. She did want him. God, she did. But there was still a part of her holding back, questioning whether this was what she really wanted or if it was just the heat of the moment talking. Lando seemed to sense her hesitation because he pulled back slightly, his eyes searching hers for an answer.
"I want you," she said, her voice steady despite the storm raging inside her. "I’d never wanted anyone like this before, but..."
"What’s wrong?" he asked, his voice softer now, almost vulnerable. It was such a stark contrast to the dominance she had felt moments ago that it caught her off guard. "Do you not feel it too?"
She shook her head quickly, feeling guilty for making him question himself. "No, it’s not that. I do feel it. I just—" She paused, unsure of how to explain the tangle of emotions swirling inside her. "I’ve never been this close to someone before. Not like this."
His expression softened, the corners of his mouth lifting into a small, reassuring smile. "I have," he admitted, his voice steady. "But none of it ever felt like this. This is different. It’s real, y/n. Can’t you feel it?"
She nodded, unable to deny the truth in his words. There was something different about this, something that felt raw and unfiltered. It wasn’t just about the physical attraction—though that was undeniable—it was about the connection, the way their hearts seemed to beat in sync.
"Then stop overthinking," Lando said, his tone playful but firm. "Just feel."
And with that, he kissed her again, deeper this time. His tongue parted her lips, exploring every inch of her mouth with an urgency that left no room for doubt. One hand traveled up her side, slipping beneath her shirt to press against the bare skin of her lower back. The other slid around to the front, palming her breast through her bra.
The sensation was overwhelming, her body arching involuntarily into his touch. A moan escaped her lips, swallowed by his as he continued to kiss her with a fervor that set her blood ablaze. The world around them faded away, leaving only the two of them in that moment, lost in each other.
"You’re so beautiful," Lando breathed, his voice ragged. His thumb brushed over her nipple, already hard with arousal, and she gasped against his mouth. "Every part of you."
His words sent a thrill of pleasure through her, her mind spinning with the implications. She’d never felt this desired, this wanted. And it was intoxicating. “Lando…” she whispered, her voice barely above a murmur. “Don’t stop.”
His response was immediate. He broke the kiss, pulling back just enough to meet her eyes. “I won’t,” he promised, his voice thick with intent. “Not unless you tell me to.”
The weight of his words settled over her, leaving no room for uncertainty. This was happening. Right here, right now, with Lando looking at her like she was everything he’d ever wanted. She nodded, her decision made without a single doubt.
“Then don’t,” she said, her voice steady despite the pounding of her heart. “Take me.”
His pupils dilated at her words, the hunger in his eyes unmistakable. Without another word, he reached for the button of her jeans, his movements quick but careful. The sound of the zipper sliding down echoed in the quiet space, a reminder of the intimacy unfolding between them.
“Spread your legs for me,” he commanded, his voice deep and gravelly. The tone sent a shiver down her spine, the mix of dominance and tenderness overwhelming.
She obeyed, shifting her hips until her legs were parted, allowing him access. His hands moved with purpose, slipping beneath the elastic of her panties to gently cup her warmth. The contact was sudden, his fingers brushing against her clit with a precision that made her gasp.
“You’re so wet for me,” he murmured, his voice laced with satisfaction. “Did you know that?”
She shook her head, too overwhelmed to speak. All she could do was watch as he dipped a finger inside her, his touch sending shockwaves through her body. The sensation was unlike anything she’d ever felt, the way he filled her completely, tilting his finger just right to stroke her walls.
“So tight,” he groaned, his voice strained. “God, I can’t wait to be inside you.”
His words ignited a fire within her, her hips bucking against his hand as she chased the pleasure. Lando obliged, adding a second finger and curling them in just the right way to make her knees tremble.
“Fuck, Lando…” she moaned, her voice breaking. “Please…”
“Please what?” he growled, his eyes dark with desire. “Tell me what you want.”
She opened her mouth to respond, but the words caught in her throat. How could she even begin to articulate the craving building inside her, the desperate need to have him fully, completely?
Before she could form the words, Lando took matters into his own hands—literally. He withdrew his fingers, replacing them with his tongue. The sensation was overwhelming, the warmth and pressure of his mouth sending her spiraling into sensory overload.
“Oh my god…” she gasped, her hands flying to his hair as she tried to anchor herself. Lando didn’t hesitate, his tongue flicking against her clit with relentless precision. Every movement was deliberate, calculated to bring her closer to the edge.
“You taste so fucking good,” he muttered, his voice muffled against her core. “I can’t get enough of you.”
His dirty talk only added fuel to the fire, her hips rocking against his face as she struggled to hold on. But Lando wasn’t done yet. He pulled back, positioning himself between her legs before guiding his cock to her entrance.
“Ready?” he asked, his voice trembling with restraint. His eyes met hers, and for a moment, it was just the two of them, locked in a silent exchange of trust and desire.
She nodded, biting her lip to keep from begging. “Yes. Please.”
With one swift motion, he pushed inside her, filling her completely. The sensation was almost too much, her body stretching to accommodate him. She gasped, her nails digging into his shoulders as she adjusted to the feeling.
“Fuck, you’re so tight,” Lando whispered, his forehead resting against hers. “I don’t think I’ll last.”
But then he started to move, slow and steady at first, giving her time to adjust. Each thrust was measured, his hips meeting hers with a rhythm that sent sparks of pleasure shooting through her veins.
“Lando,” she moaned, unable to hold back any longer. “Harder. Please.”
He listened, picking up the pace until the sound of their bodies connecting filled the air. The pleasure built with every thrust, consuming them both until all that was left was the raw, primal need to reach the peak together.
“Come for me,” Lando growled, his voice commanding. “Let me feel you come apart.”
He didn’t stop moving, not even for a second. His arms tightened around her as he carried her down the hallway, her legs still wrapped securely around his waist, his cock still buried deep inside her. Her breath hitched with every step, the sensation of him twitching within her only heightening the anticipation that built with each passing moment.
“You feel so good,” Lando murmured into her ear, his voice low and gravelly, sending shivers down her spine. He nuzzled her neck, peppering soft kisses along her skin, making her shudder. “I can’t wait to have you like this, completely at my mercy.”
Mercy. The word sent a rush of heat through her body, pooling between her legs. She bit her lip, trying to steady her breathing, but it was no use. She was already lost in the haze of desire that Lando had created.
He kicked open the door to his bedroom with one swift motion, and then he was laying her down on the bed, his weight pressing her into the mattress. His hands were everywhere—in her hair, on her hips, sliding up her thighs—as if he couldn’t get enough of her. And maybe he couldn’t. She certainly couldn’t get enough of him.
“Lando,” she whispered, her voice trembling with need. “Please, move… don’t make me wait.”
His lips curved into a wicked smile, and he leaned down to kiss her again, deep and possessive, his tongue dominating hers. He pulled back just enough to look into her eyes, those piercing green/blue eyes that seemed to see straight through to her soul. “I won’t,” he said, his voice a promise. “Not tonight. Not ever.”
Before she could respond, he spread her legs apart, repositioning himself between them. He looked down at her, his gaze intense, almost primal. “Are you sure?” he asked, though his tone suggested he already knew the answer.
She nodded, unable to speak, her heart pounding in her chest. Yes, she thought. Always yes.
With one quick, deliberate motion, he made an in-and-out motion and sank into her again, filling her completely. She gasped, her body arching up to meet his, desperate for more. His name escaped her lips in a breathless moan, and he groaned in response, his forehead resting against hers.
“Fuck, y/n,” he muttered, his voice ragged. “You feel so damn good.”
He began to move, slow and steady at first, giving her body time to adjust again. His thrusts were measured, deliberate, each one hitting her in just the right spot. She clutched at his shoulders, digging her nails into his skin, as wave after wave of pleasure crashed over her.
“Lando,” she cried out, her voice breaking. “Please… harder.”
He listened, picking up the pace until the room was filled with the sound of their bodies coming together. His thrusts grew deeper, harder, each one sending jolts of electricity through her veins. She could feel the orgasm building inside her, closer and closer, threatening to consume her.
“Come for me,” Lando demanded, his voice commanding. “Let me feel you come apart.”
His words pushed her over the edge, and she did exactly as he said. Her body convulsed around him, her walls clenching tight as the orgasm ripped through her. She screamed his name, lost in the throes of pleasure, as he continued to thrust into her, chasing his own release.
“I’m close,” he gritted out, his voice strained. “God, I’m so close.”
She reached up to touch him, her fingers brushing against his chest, feeling the rapid beat of his heart beneath her palm. “Don’t stop,”she breathed, her voice barely audible.
He didn’t. With one final, powerful thrust, he came. He let out a guttural growl, his body going rigid as he spilled inside her, his warmth mingling with hers.
For a few moments, neither of them moved, caught in the aftermath of what had just happened. Lando collapsed onto the bed beside her, pulling her into his arms. She lay there, her heart still racing, her body buzzing with the remnants of pleasure.
“That was…” she trailed off, unable to find the words to describe what had just happened.
“Incredible,” Lando finished for her, his voice soft but filled with conviction. He kissed her forehead, then her cheek, before finally capturing her lips in a gentle, lingering kiss. “And it’s only the beginning.”
She smiled against his lips, feeling a sense of contentment wash over her. But before she could fully bask in the moment, Lando pulled away slightly, his eyes twinkling with mischief.
“Ready for round two?” he asked, his voice teasing.
As the night drew to a close, Lando and Y/N lay tangled in the sheets, breathless and content. Lando's fingers traced small circles on her skin, a soft and soothing contrast to the intensity of earlier. His lips pressed a gentle kiss to her temple, and she smiled, feeling completely at ease in his embrace.
"You know," Lando murmured, his voice playful yet tender, "I think we just set a new standard for our dates."
She laughed softly, turning to meet his gaze. "Is that so?" she teased, her fingers gently caressing his chest.
"Yeah," he grinned, his eyes sparkling. "But no pressure. I think we can take it slow from here on out... unless you're ready to break some more records."
She chuckled, snuggling closer, feeling his warmth surrounding her. "Maybe we should just enjoy the moment, Lando."
He nodded, his expression softening as he held her tighter. "You're right. This... us... it feels real. And that's all that matters."
She rested her head on his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart. Just the quiet, simple certainty that something beautiful had begun between the two of them.
#f1#f1 fanfic#f1 fic#f1 imagine#formula 1#f1 x reader#formula one#formula one imagine#formula one x reader#formula one x y/n#formula one x you#f1 x you#f1 x y/n#f1 x female reader#lando norris fanfic#lando norris x reader#lando norris imagine#lando norris#ln4#lando norris smut#lando norris x you#lando norris x y/n
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In some universe I like to think Bucky likes to fuck. Hard. He holds back when he has his hands all over your body and he's trying desperately to shut out the monster in his brain screaming to ravage you because he. Wants. To. Fuck.
There are days where he wants that tender loving and he wants to be soft and sweet but on others?
The release feels to good and in that moment he's in full control, chasing that pleasure, hyper focused on the way his cockhead is dripping and swollen, more sensitive than ever. Its throbbing and his veins are pumping all the blood to his rock hard cock.
At first he does a good job of hiding it.
But then the mask begins to fall.
Primal urges want to take over but how can he ruin his sweet little bunny whose laying under him, moaning and looking at him with doe eyes.
How can he-
"Buck?"
Bucky's hips stutter at the sound of your soft voice laced with concern, your hand coming to cup his cheek.
"You okay?" You can tell he's not all there, his movements hesitant, body too stiff. You're plaint under him but his muscles are tight, jaw clenched. "What's wrong Jamie"
Jamie. The name you had for him alone made him want to fuck you till all you could do was scream his-
"We can stop if-
"No-" Bucky cuts you off before you could continue, petting your head reassuringly, "Everything's fine doll, promise" He pecks a kiss to your nose making you blink and it some how makes him harder. You're so trusting, spreading out naked on his bed, completely unsuspecting of all the dirty things he really wanted to do to you. You were checking in on him to see if he's okay, not having a clue he wanted to rail you so hard, you'd forget how to speak. Pound you till you were begging for him to stop because there was too much cum for your tiny cunt to handle and his heavy balls would still be aching for release.
"You can tell me" You whisper, wiggling from under him to wrap your soft thighs around his waist, stroking his scruffy cheek. "Please?"
Bucky doesn't think he can hide his needs for much longer. Not when your scent is all over him now; on his pillow, the sheets, its soaked onto his skin with how closely your naked bodies are pressing against each other. How can he be expected to have any self-control when you're looking up at him like that like a sweet little bunny caught in the wolfs den, cuddling into her predators chest.
"You really want to know?" His voice was husky, letting his nose trail along the column of your neck, breathing in your sweet smell, letting his tongue dart out to taste your sweat slicked skin. The action makes you gasp, clenching around him with a whimper, your eyes growing wide when a growl emits from deep in his chest, "Are you sur you really want to know?"
"Y-yes" You nod, your breath hitching in your throat at the dark smirk that appears on his face as his hand snakes up to softly clasp around your throat.
"I want to ruin you bunny" Bucky's nose nudges against your affectionately before leaning down to nip your pouty bottom lip.
"R-ruin?" You whisper, a wave of slick soaking his cock further which doesn't go unnoticed by him. He experimentally draws his hips back and snaps them forward, hitting your cervix, the salacious moan you let out driving him feral.
"I want to fuck. Promise I'll make love to you after but I want to fuck you pretty girl" He squeezes your throat a little tighter, moving to graze his teeth along your jaw. "Will you let me? Fuck this pretty little pussy?"
The breathy yes you let out is all he needs.
And fuck you he does.
-
"J-JAMIEE"
"That's it-scream-scream for me!" He roars, his fingers digging into the flesh of your hips and he pulls you back to meet his thrusts, his balls slapping your clit each time. He has you on your hands and knees though your arms gave way, your face pressed against the mattress. He brings his leg up to get a deeper angle and the feeling causes white spots to blur you vision.
"M-more-Wan' more" You weakly beg, tears streaming down your face in pleasure, your entire body being held up by his grip as he takes you from behind.
"Greedy slut, begging for more as if she isn't already full of cock and cum" Bucky gritted out, having already emptied himself in your once, your combined slick making it easier for him to pound you. "Just a hole for me to fuck, you're just here to get me off aren't you baby, just a tight little pussy for me to stuff my dick into"
"Ye-ah" You hiccup, overstimulated from the orgasms he's pulled from your body left, right and center. "So-so-good"
"S'good huh, gotta keep you well fucked for my fat cock bunny" You have no idea where he got such a filthy mouth from, another orgasm building in your belly from his words alone, "Can feel you getting tight again, lookit you cumming all over me baby, messy girl, soaking me"
You can't respond aside from wailing with pleasure, trickles of squirt wetting his thighs, the sight making his balls pull towards his body.
"That's it, good girl, fuck gonna cum bunny, gonna give you my cum and keep fucking it back into you, keep you nice and full of me" He rails you faster, the serum in his veins pumping, sweat dripping down his body. He feels impossibly hot, head thrown back as immense pleasure shoots down his spine, his pace growing sloppy. There's not a single thought in his brain other than busting load after load in your sopping cunt till his cock his soft. He doesn't care that it almost hurts, overstimulated himself, panting and rutting into you, he's so far gone, his deep moans slipping into a whimper as his cock starks to leak, he's so close-
"OH-FUCKK" Hot ropes of his spend shoot from his tip as he lets his body fall on top of you, humping and rutting himself till he's all empty, "y'feel to good, can't even stop, holy shit" He moans into your neck, suckling at your pulse point while you writhe under him feeling his cum seep out of you. His movements slow till there's nothing left, his sensitive length still tucked between your folds, pink and soft and wet with your cream. He carefully moves you so you're resting on the pillows, his cool metal hand brushing your forehead.
"Come back to me bunny" Bucky coos, chuckling at your dazed state, your eyes still unfocused, panting and blindly reaching for him, "M'right here babygirl, c'mhere, I got you" He cradles your soft body close to his, kissing your hairline. "Did so good for me princess, so so proud of you"
You let out a sleepy yawn, curling up on his chest like a content kitten, closing your eyes while nuzzling into him. You've never looked so peaceful and happy and Bucky can tell just by your happy little sigh you want more of what he gave you.
#bucky barnes x you#bucky barnes x y/n#bucky x y/n#bucky barnes fluff#bucky barnes x female reader#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes#bucky barnes fanfiction#bucky barnes x f!reader#bucky x reader#marvel smut#bucky barnes x fluff#bucky barnes x fanfic#bucky barnes x freader#bucky x you#bucky x smut#dom bucky x reader#bucky x female reader#bucky barnes smut#bucky barnes imagine#bucky barnes x reader fluff#bucky barnes x reader smut#bucky barnes fanfic#bucky barnes fanmix#bucky barnes fan fiction#bucky barns imagine#bucky barnes fan fic#bucky fandom#bucky fan fiction#bucky fan fic
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I am genuinely so proud of my wife for becoming a crafts person over the last few years.
Like, I was always a crafts person. I was an arts and crafts kid. My parents sent me to classes or summer camps or after-school clubs pretty much continuously from when I was about 5 years old, and over the years I did metalsmithing, stained glass, polymer clay sculpting, loom weaving, oil painting, charcoal drawing, clothes-making & tailoring, carpentry, woodcarving, macrame, miniatures, beading, jewelry-making, basket weaving, leatherworking, paper-making, bookbinding, papier mache, decoupage, sand sculpting, and probably more that I'm forgetting. There was never a day in my life while I was growing up when my entire bedroom floor wasn't taken up by 2-5 different ongoing art projects. As an adult, it's given me the firm confidence that I can walk up to pretty much any crafting skill, and get the hang of it, and enjoy doing it.
My wife never had that. She wrote, but that was really her only artistic outlet. Art & craftsmanship were just not any of her business. She always expressed admiration for my gumption when it came to making things with my hands, usually with a "bigger idiots than me have done it" attitude, but she was certain she'd be bad at it if she tried it, and that she wouldn't have fun. As evidence, she would offer every time in her life when she had attempted to learn a craft, and didn't have fun, and all the Arts And Crafts kids picked it up a lot faster than her.
Which like - yeah! Learning how to do a new craft is a skill all on its own! Fine motor control is a skill developed over time! So is spatial reasoning, and materials intuition! She wasn't just 'trying to learn wreath-making,' or whatever, she was trying to learn how to learn how to make something with her hands AND wreath-making, at the same time, so of course it would take her longer than the kids who already had the first part, and of course it would be more frustrating for her. I knew she wasn't uniquely bad at crafts: she just didn't know how to approach picking them up, because she was never encouraged to learn.
And then the pandemic hit.
And while we were all trapped inside and going insane in new and exciting ways to all of us, she tentatively decided to pick up embroidery. She probably wouldn't stick with it, she explained: she'd probably be bad at it. It probably wouldn't be fun. But she thought embroidery was pretty, and literally what else did she have going on?
And then she did stick with it. For over a year. And she got pretty good at it! She embellished a baseball hat for her sister with cactuses and wildflowers from where they grew up which came out adorable. She made an embroidered portrait of one of our friends' cat that they still have displayed in their entryway. And she discovered - and remarked on it often, with mild surprise - that she was having fun. She'd say a lot of stuff like "this stitch was so frustrating at first, but now that I get it I really like doing it," or "I kept getting this tangled but I've figured it out now. I just needed to relax."
Then she took up pottery. We did that as a couple for about a year, too. Now she's a knitter.
And it's just been so great, to see her eyes light up when she sees a sweater she likes, and hear her say, "I could make that!" She's slowly let go of the perfectionism that I think holds a lot of people back from doing crafts: that dismay when you make a mistake which leads to discarding a whole project, or starting something over. More and more she's taking on the veteran crafter attitude of "oops lol, whatever I'll just keep going." She's picking things up faster. She's taking pleasure in learning incremental steps. She's started to see crafting as something that relaxes and engages her, instead of as something inherently frustrating. I've gotten to watch her learn to find joy in making something with her hands. I always knew she was creative and artistic and capable of learning how to do anything. It's been so much fun to watch her start to take that on as part of how she sees herself.
We have this running joke about how she will prematurely declare herself to be in an era. Like, she'll go swimming twice and announce that she's now in her "swimming era," and then never go swimming again. Or she'll make one smoothie, buy a bunch of fruit, and declare that we are now in a "smoothie era," and then a week later we have to throw out a bunch of fruit that's gone bad.
The other day (while she was knitting, and I was sitting on the couch next to her doing crochet), she went, "I feel like I've gotten - like, I'm a bit crafty these days, I think. Like, I've done a couple of different crafts, and gotten pretty good at them. I think this is now, kind of, you know...something that I can say that I do."
I supplied that I would even go so far as to say that she was in her "crafting era."
Her eyes widened. "It's an era?"
I pointed out that it was something she'd been doing pretty much continuously for the last three and a half years. That feels like the start of an era to me.
"Yes," she decided. "It's an era. This is my crafts era. I'm a crafts person now."
She's planning to make me a sweater with a duck on it for fall.
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