#have some frosty fluff

[ladykf-writes]

A VERY belated beginning

-- to @shinraholidayparty's week that ended yesterday. But I did a thing and I wanted to share it. May continue to pick at things, I've just been consumed by Scholar!Genesis in his fic.

This collection is made of out-of-order prompted fics, starting with Day 3: snowed in, coming home, baking

“It’s quite the storm,” Reeve said quietly, standing at the ice-frosted windows, fingertips grazing the cold inner glass. There was no condensation, it was better made than that — he’d seen to it personally — nor was there cold air seeping in around it. But beyond… beyond the secure glass was a wild storm that was just some consistency shy of being declared a blizzard. There was over two feet of snow already, and it was a logistical nightmare they hadn’t prepared for.

Or no, he had. But people hadn’t taken him seriously until the first five inches were down. Then people were implementing his plans, then people were hitting the stores and that got ugly with people panicking and —

A fluffy head almost took him out at the knees and he took it as a sign from Genesis not to dwell too much on it. He was doing what he could. Sometimes, he had been told (had told others), that had to be enough. Even when it really wasn’t.

He’d gotten home to his penthouse in Upper Eight just before it had really started to get nasty spitting ice, where he was greeted by Blizzara and Cait Sith, the latter of whom was riding the Icicle Snow Cat like a four legged chocobo.

They were all safe, warm, comfortable and well supplied and he ought to be grateful for it. But there was a little voice that did want to whine, because Genesis wasn’t there. And there was no way he could get there; one, because it was a level three and it was illegal to be on the roads. Two, because it was just too nasty to drive even if it wasn’t. And a final resounding three, because anything other than driving was impossible with how much Genesis utterly loathed being cold.

So. Everything was nice and wonderful except for that.

Yeah.

[Continue on Ao3]

[andypantsx3]

LOADS OF FUN : TODOROKI x READER

SUMMARY: After moving into your first apartment together, Shouto seems more amorous than ever. You're not sure why—but when he comes home to you doing a load of laundry, more than your clothes are about to get tumbled. TAGS/WARNINGS: nsft (18+ only, minors please dni!), pro hero au, gn + afab reader, established relationship, fluff, emotional sex, table sex, cunnilingus, the shouto domesticity kink agenda goes absolutely crazy in this one lol (2.8k) NOTES: This piece is part of my pretty boy summer Shouto x Reader collab! Please go check out the other incredible fics people have written over the course of the summer; you will absolutely die over how good they are. This fic was also made possible through donations to the Fics for Gaza project. I cannot thank everyone who donated to one of the charities enough, as well as those who organized, reblogged, discussed, and got the word out. Lastly, I am so grateful for your immeasurable patience with me as I take time between fics to manage my workload, I hope I'm not too out of practice here lol. In summary: thank you, thank you, a million times thank you.

The sound of the door opening was hidden in the thump and glug of the washing machine starting its spin cycle.

Halfway across the house, you were oblivious—you had the clean laundry spread out on the kitchen table, hunting through the pile trying to match one of Shouto’s socks to another that seemed to have vanished into that mysterious void which opens somewhere between the laundry basket and the dryer. One of his shirts was half-folded over your shoulder, abandoned in favor of the sock search.

The rest of your things were still mostly tangled together on the table, warm and fresh and cottony, the few shirts you’d already folded sagging off the kitchen chairs.

It still gave you a little thrill—even several weeks after you’d moved in together—to see Shouto’s things twined up with yours—his enormous socks dwarfing yours, your sweaters clinging to the occasional piece of his hero suit that hadn’t seen enough action to need his agency’s industrial cleaners.

It all added to your sense of satisfaction with your afternoon—a frosty weekend day you’d spent cozy indoors, moving slowly and leisurely through some chores. A pot of soup simmered on the stove, and your favorite playlist worked itself through in lazy loops. Shouto was due off his rotation soon, and you hummed contentedly to yourself, entertaining pleased little fantasies of curling up with him for the rest of the weekend.

Which of course is when something moved in the corner of your eye. Your hum sawed up into a strangled screech, and you whipped around, flailing. Shouto’s sock launched itself full force at the intruder before you even registered you’d thrown it. In your shock, your leg caught against the table and you went stumbling—

—right into a pair of warm hands that caught you about the waist.

Your hands were on the man’s shoulders to push him off before you realized you recognized the touch—and that you’d caught sight of a distinct mop of scarlet and white hair as you’d whipped around.

“Shouto! Again?” you scolded reflexively, even as your heartbeat stuttered out of its wild kick into high gear. You tipped your head back to stare your boyfriend in the face, shoulders slumping in relief, letting him take some of your weight.

Shouto peered down at you, that tiny scrunch between his brows that indicated concern. “Are you alright, love?”

Your heartbeat pounded thunderously in your chest. “I’m—fine. But my god we need to get you a bell. I almost peed.”

Shouto’s mouth shifted minutely into something that might not have registered in anyone else’s face but was most definitely a regretful downturn on his. He looked even more unfairly beautiful than when he’d left you this morning—a little flushed and windswept from the unseasonable cold, that full mouth pink and pretty.

Your mind flicked momentarily off and back on like a circuit breaker, the way it always did when you had to process Shouto.

You’d understood he was once-in-a-generation levels of beautiful before you’d even met him, his face staring up at you from the glossy pages of various tabloids over the years. But in person, even after years of knowing him and several more dating him, Shouto’s appearance still managed to cross all the wires in a person’s brain. His features were an incomprehensible blend of aloof and elegant, sensual and warm—like a cold masterpiece of a marble sculpture had suddenly found himself with a consciousness and human desires and miles of warm skin.

“I did not mean to startle you,” he said, his voice low and warm. He sounded sincerely regretful.

You knew he hadn’t meant to—you’d long suspected his silent tread was habitually ingrained in him from years of hero work. And, in your most private and ungenerous thoughts, you suspected from years of making himself unobtrusive in his father’s home. The thought sat sour in your mouth, like a slice of pickled lemon.

You resisted making an equally sour face, shoving the thought away to make space for the reflexive flush of pleasure seeing Shouto always brought you.

“Welcome home, Sho,” you said instead, smiling up at him. Shouto’s hands moved on your waist, sliding gently beneath the hem of your tee-shirt to rest on the skin there.

He was still in his hero uniform, and as usual you felt a little goofy in comparison, in nothing but a tee and a well-loved pair of fraying sweatpants, which were this afternoon decorated with little flecks of soup from a brush with the pot.

But Shouto’s eyes were warm where they rested on you, and that perfect mouth crept back into a contented set. His long fingers smoothed over your skin as he watched you, thumb brushing your hip. He did not look like he found you at all goofy.

In fact, as his eyes dropped down to your ankles, slowly dragging back up to your face, you rather thought he looked a little appreciative. He even took a rather ungentlemanly step back, still holding you, to better take in the whole picture. His eyes wandered over the swell of your hip, the lines of the shirt against your chest, before darting to his own shirt, still folded over your shoulder.

His fingers flexed tellingly on your waist, and those heterochromatic eyes were both a little bit darker as they flicked back to yours.

His obvious regard made you feel warm. You shifted on your feet, shuffling.

“I was just—doing laundry,” you said for something to say, your mouth feeling kind of dry. Something about him always made you feel sort of shy and light-headed, even after all this time together. “And I made soup. I was thinking we could eat on the couch and watch one of those horrendous old All Might films?”

Shouto’s eyes darted to the stove, then beside you to the pile of your laundry, lingering for a long minute. His long lashes dipped, almost fluttering as his gaze traced over the tangle of your things together. His eyes flicked back to you. He was still for just a moment, watching you assessingly.

And then all of a sudden the world spun in front of your eyes. The hands at your waist lifted you clean off your feet, and you let out a startled “oof!” as you found yourself laid out in the pile of laundry on the table, sheets and sweaters bunching beneath you.

Shouto moved over you, stepping between your spread thighs, right at the edge of the table.

“You have no idea,” he intoned in a deep, delicious tone that went right down your spine, “what it is to come home to you like this.”

You wondered at that, feeling a strange combination of confusion and flattery, when Shouto’s mouth descended onto yours. His mouth was soft and sweet and insistent and absolutely perfect. The table groaned as he laid some of his weight out over you, pinning you into the laundry as he kissed you.

Your fingers clutched at him immediately, curling in his silky-soft hair, cupping his face to yours. One of Shouto’s own hands shifted to your thigh, holding you against him as he pressed himself harder into you.

You heard yourself making little gasps of appreciation as Shouto’s mouth moved down to your neck, laving hot kisses down your throat. You reveled in the feeling of him over you, broad and strong, his shoulders blocking the glow of the overhead light, casting shadows over you.

He’d been a lot like this lately, ever since you’d moved in together. He’d been adequately amorous before, of course, and blessed with a pro hero’s strength and unflagging stamina. But a few weeks after you’d moved in together you’d actually decided you needed to reactivate your gym membership given the amount of incredibly athletic sex you were suddenly having over almost every surface in the house.

One of the only spots yet to be touched was the table though, which Shouto seemed determined to rectify at this very moment.

He pulled back from you, his mouth flush from your kisses, looking a little entranced as he stepped out from between your thighs. You made a little noise at the loss of weight and heat over you, but Shouto caught the fabric of your sweatpants, gently but determinedly tugging them off of you. Your underwear was tossed right over one broad shoulder as Shouto went to his knees, and then his mouth was right back on you.

A wave of wild heat licked up your stomach at the noise of appreciation he made before sealing his mouth over you, strong fingers clutching your thighs to keep them apart.

“Oh my god!” you said, pleasure zinging right up your spine with the first lave of his tongue over you. “Shouto!”

Shouto let out a deep, pleased hum, two long fingers sinking into you embarrassingly easily as he worked your clit with his mouth. Your back arched and you could feel your clothing shift with you, Shouto’s shirt balling up under your shoulder blade, still half-draped over your shoulder.

“Oh, oh!” you heard yourself saying as your fingers twisted in the clothing, shuddering with every lick and suck of Shouto’s perfect, amazing, talented mouth.

He worked you with the expertise of long, dedicated practice—everything about him calculated to drive you insane. One moment he was excruciatingly soft, mouth slack and the touch of his tongue as fleeting and light as the brush of a butterfly’s wing. Then the next he was sucking relentlessly, teasing firmly with the tip of his tongue as his fingers played with you.

Your first climax hit you mortifyingly quickly, and Shouto seemed to know it before you did. His grip tightened on you, holding you down as you bucked against his mouth. Shouto looked more than a little smug as he got to his feet again, unbelting himself and laying back out over you.

He kissed you some more, the taste of yourself always a sort of shock to your system. But Shouto never seemed to mind, and if anything only seemed hungrier for you, mouth pulling at yours like he meant to devour you.

You felt the touch of his hand between your thighs as he lined himself up, then sank into you easily, groaning appreciatively like he’d just sunk into a hot bath. He bit carefully at your neck, one large hand pressing your stomach down to keep you pinned against the edge of the table where he wanted you.

“I always want to come home to you like this,” he intoned into the skin of your neck, his mouth sucking dizzying patterns into your skin. “Always.”

You could barely think past the slide of him inside you, thick and full and blissfully exquisite. He really was the most perfect man on earth, and he always felt like it too.

You barely managed to blink your eyes open to watch him, trying to catch his meaning in his face. Shouto watched you back, those blue and grey pinned on you like he couldn’t bear to look away from you as he moved inside you.

“You—” you panted out, trying to cling to the thoughts threatening to wiggle out of your grip. “What do you—? Of course you’ll always come home to me.”

Shouto bucked into you harder, the slap of his hip against the bottom of your thigh echoing loudly over the burble of soup on the stove. His eyelashes fluttered, mouth softening, and a realization struck you almost dizzy.

Oh, he really liked that.

You suppressed a wave of giddiness, charmed and helplessly pleased that he seemed to like the idea so much. Was that why he’d been so especially ardent this past month? Was it really because you’d moved in together?

Shouto’s arm hooked under one of your legs, drawing it up firmly over his shoulder so he could press even further inside of you. He looked so good like that that you nearly lost the thread of your thoughts, especially when his next thrust felt like that. Your eyes nearly rolled back in your head.

“Ah!” escaped you. “Fuck, Shouto. Like that, please!”

Shouto’s thumb pressed down on your still-sensitive clit and he had to dig the fingers of his other hand into the flesh of your leg to keep you from bucking him right out of you with the way you squirmed. Sweet fucking gods he was unreal.

Shouto fucked you harder, the sound of your skin slapping together obscene in the quiet of the kitchen.

You tried again, struggling to watch his reaction with the way you wanted to throw your head back and babble nonsense instead.

“You’ll always come home to me,” you repeated, gratified when Shouto’s grip on you tightened, a soft sound escaping him. “You want me right here for you?”

“Ah—yes, love,” Shouto panted, staring down at you again. He looked like he knew what you were doing but didn’t care. “Yes,” he hissed.

“Just like this?” you prompted, trying not to slur the edges of your speech when he gave another particularly mind-bending thrust of his hips. His chest rose and fell heavily and he looked a little wild-eyed, gazing down at you.

“Like this, for me,” he said. “In my home, in our home—”

You could hear the table squeal and groan with the force of his next thrust, and then you had to grip the sides of it to steady yourself as he fucked you, looking blissful. Your nails scrabbled at the edges of the table, caught in between a million sensations—the glorious fullness of Shouto inside you, the gentle grind of his thumb against your clit, the way he looked all flushed and beautiful and panting and wanting—

You squeezed your eyes shut, too overcome with the sight of him to look at him anymore, but it was no use. Your entire body trembled as you came, and Shouto let out a low swear at the way you clenched up around him, hunching over you and pressing himself so impossibly hard against you as he came too.

He slumped down against you, weighing you into the soft-smelling cotton of the laundry you were now definitely going to have to rewash. You could feel his chest rise and fall as he panted, his breath tickling the skin under your ear. He left an unbearably soft, sweet kiss just under the lobe, at odds with the near-wild way he’d just been fucking you.

You warmed, petting through his hair with a helpless affection.

“Well now I know what time I should always do our laundry,” you said.

Shouto huffed into your neck, but you could feel a tiny smile curve his mouth.

“It is not just that,” he said, but did not elaborate for some minutes until you elbowed him gently. He peeled himself off of you just enough to look down into your face. “It is the thought of our life together. Our clothes piled together. You in the home we chose and we made…” he said, trailing off.

But you thought you got the sentiment. It was about how easy it was, how uncomplicated. A safe place to come home to, no expectations, just soup and a pile of sweet-smelling laundry and someone happy to see you. It was something far away from what he'd grown up thinking a home was, possibly something he’d thought he’d never have—something you were determined to make him realize now that he always would.

You let your fingers pull through his hair again, smiling up at him. “I am going to have to do our laundry again, though,” you teased. “In case that interests you.”

And despite what he’d just said, Shouto did in fact look a little too interested. You watched his mismatched gaze trail over to the closet that opened onto the washer and dryer. A contemplative look snuck across his handsome face, carefully curling the corner of that plush mouth.

“There is another place we have not yet broken in,” he said slowly, voice dipping low. He looked down at you with an earnest expression completely in contrast to what he was suggesting.

You couldn’t help but laugh, and that was all the permission he needed to pull you up, gathering you up in his arms and layering a fat handful of laundry on top of you. His belt buckle rattled loosely beneath you where he'd barely done it up in his haste, and you laughed harder when he turned off the stove as you passed it.

Though it turned out to be a needed precaution—as neither of you found yourselves free to sit down to dinner for several hours yet.

[buckys-wintersoldier]

Hii! If it’s okay, totally okay if not!

Can I please request a TFAWS!Bucky x fem!reader where she is his next door neighbor and they first meet when she’s moving into the apartment complex, and struggling to carry in all of her stuff. Bucky, ever the sweet gentleman he is, offers to help her move in and carries her stuff.🥹 And they spend a lot of time together in her apartment that day getting to know each other. After that they’re best friends (who obviously have a growing love for each other) and often spend time with each other in both his apartment and her apartment. Bucky even starts taking her to his lunches with Yori (who definitely catches on and points out the feeling between the two of them hehe) and eventually introduces her to Sam (who also can see the pair love each other). Many situations bring the two of them closer together, like one day when Bucky saves her from a group of men who followed her home from work, and also another time when Y/n (who now has an extra key to Bucky’s apartment, and he has one to hers) hears Bucky having a nightmare and she goes into his apartment, crawls into his arms, and lays down with him on the floor of his apartment to calm him down🥺 Anyways, they’re both idiots in love and finally confess their love each other after so long of being just “best friends”🥺

Hi! Thank you for the sweet request. This is an amazing, cute, adorable and just lovely request. The way both of them find their way to one another and it just so cute. The end isn’t the best I guess but yeah. I’m sorry it took me so long to write it but I finally finished it! I hope you like and enjoy it.

More than everything | B.B

Your new neighbour helps you to move in but soon he is way more than just your neighbour. Your best friend, the one you can talk about everything, he knows every secret, except one.

Pairing -> Neighbour!BestFriend!Bucky Barnes x Neighbour!BestFriend!Fem!Reader

Wordcount -> 7.371 Words

Warnings -> fluff, lots of fluff, idiots in love, some weird guys, nightmares, love confession

Authors Note -> I want to thank @thevillainswhore for proofreading! Thank you so much, my love! I love you!❤️ All and every mistakes are my own.

Events -> Seasonal Delights Bingo: Types of love | G4 | being calmed down by a familiar person's presence | @seasonaldelightsbingo | Fandom Free Bingo: Book Night Edition | B4 | Baby Just Say Yes | @fandom-free-bingo | Fandom Free Bingo: Frosty Edition | G2 | Wiping away tears | @fandom-free-bingo | Build-A-Bucky Bingo | June | Meddling Best Friend | @buckybarnesevents

Masterlist | Bucky Barnes Masterlist

Sweat runs down your face as you lift one of the heavy boxes out of your car. You haven’t even started to move your stuff into your new apartment, yet you feel like you’ve carried an elephant around. The sun is shining a lot today, heating the air and there’s not much of a cool breeze that could help you to cool down.

With a groan, your fingers clutch onto the box tighter. You feel the slow movement of it slipping from your grasp, so you try to squeeze it so it won’t fall down. You’re not sure what’s in the box, but it’s heavy and you can’t have all of your stuff laying around in the ground in front of your apartment.

“Need help?” A rough voice startles you. Spinning on your heel, you turn to face the person who stands there and your mouth drops open while your eyes widen.

The man who stands there with a soft smile tugging at his beautiful plump lips has short brown hair and wears a hoodie and gloves. You secretly wonder if it’s not too warm underneath all those layers of fabric. He reaches out to place his big hands underneath the box you carry and lifts it up like it weighs nothing. You notice the muscles working underneath his hoodie when he holds the carton.

“H-Hi! U-uhm, I would love to accept the offer but I don’t want to interrupt you from whatever you were doing,” you mumble, face palming yourself when the words leave your lips. He wouldn’t offer you his help if he was busy. Instead of judging you he just chuckles, his ocean blue eyes sparkle and his nose scrunches ever so slightly.

“Of course, doll! I’m Bucky, and you?” He asks, looking straight into your eyes and causing your knees to buckle. Bucky’s laugh, his voice — he is just so perfect. You’re not sure if he is just an imagination in your mind or if you’re hallucinating because of the heat and limited drinking.

Clearing his throat, Bucky pulls you out of your thoughts and gets your attention back. “I- I’m y/n. Nice to meet you, Bucky,” you say, smirking softly with heat creeping up your cheeks. You reach into your car once again to get another box out to carry.

“You can place it on top of this one, put two on top,” he says with a grin at you. You narrow your eyes, placing another box on the one he has already in his arms before reaching in to grab another carton.

“It’s heavy to carry that much, Bucky,” you chuckle, but place the third box into his arms as well. With a grunt, he almost falls forward, scaring you before standing straight again. He starts laughing softly, winking at you as you grab a box for yourself to carry into your apartment.

“I once lifted a whole engine for a friend, so your boxes aren’t that heavy compared to a ship engine,” Bucky says. You shake your head, smirking before making your way to the front door and into the apartment complex. “Which floor?”

“Second.” Bucky nods, grinning. As you walk up the stairs and along the floor the two of you walk closer and closer to his apartment, and his smirk grows with every step closer to your apartment.

While you think you embrassed yourself in front of this handsome and sweet man with your stutter and dropped jaw earlier, he only thinks it makes you adorable. There wasn’t someone in a while who looked at him with such softness in their expression — someone who doesn’t seem to know who he was, who gives him the chance to get to know him as the person he is now.

“Oh!” Bucky says when you stop in front of your door to fish the keys out of your pocket. You turn around, tilting your head as he chuckles. “Hi, next door neighbor.”

You giggle. For a moment you’re sure he is making a joke, but he just nods toward the door next to yours and grins even wider. Your eyes widen as you look to the door, then back to him.

“I don’t want to interrupt that sweet little moment where you stare at me and my apartment door because you find out that I live next to you…. But these boxes are going to be too heavy for me to carry soon,” Bucky says and nods at the boxes he is still holding in his arms. You gasp, taking the keys and unlocking the door with an apologetic smile. “It was a joke, I don’t mind carrying those boxes for you all day.”

You roll your eyes playfully, letting Bucky walk into your apartment and follow behind. “You’re the best, thank you so much!” You say as you both place the boxes on the floor.

“Don’t thank me yet, we have a lot more to carry,” Bucky tells you, walking a step closer to you and placing his big hands on the small of your back, pushing you toward the door. Instead of flinching of his sudden touch, you giggle softly, liking the warmth of his soft touch.

The two of you carry all your stuff into your apartment and while Bucky looks like he hasn’t done anything all day, you feel your aching muscles. You sigh deeply when you finally are able to let yourself fall down on the couch.

“How can you still look so— so handsome, so good like you haven’t carried so many boxes and all,” you ask, eyes roaming over his tall body while he stands in front of you. Bucky chuckles, leaning back against the wall behind him. His tongue pokes out, gliding over his lips to wet them and cause them to glisten.

“How about I get some food for the two of us, there is that nice restaurant just a block away,” he suggests and you nod immediately. He pushes himself off the wall, turning around to make his way out of the apartment.

“Wait!” You shout, causing him to stop in his tracks and turn back to you. “Uhm- let me find my wallet.”

Bucky laughs, shaking his head and walking further to the door. “You don’t have to pay me for dinner, and also not for helping you to carry those boxes, so no ‘buts’ here.”

With a sigh, you chuckle and Bucky makes his way to get the food. He already likes you a lot, you’re a sweet and nice person, no judging. He’s sure you wonder why he wears a hoodie and gloves even though it’s hot, but he also appreciates that you haven’t asked him about it, so he doesn’t have to lie to you .

— —

After Bucky came back with the food the two of you sat there in your new apartment, talked and ate. The conversation flowed between the two of you and you feel like you’ve  known Bucky for so long already. He is a sweet and gentle man, taking care of you and making you laugh. Plus his voice and laugh is the most beautiful thing you have ever heard, you could listen to him all day and you would never be tired of it nor him.

The connection between you and Bucky gets stronger with every day. The two of you spend a lot of days in your or his apartment and he becomes your best friend. You know you can trust him, you can tell him everything and he knows it as well.

One night a few weeks ago, Bucky came over in just a t-shirt, asking you if he is allowed to sleep on your couch because he can’t stand the quietness in his apartment. You offered him to sleep in bed with you, knowing that he would never touch you unless you allow him to do so but he shook his head.

“I-I would just love to sleep on the couch, you know,” Bucky mumbled, scratching the back of his head while he looked at you with sleepy eyes. He looked tired, not just because he fell out of his bed, but also because he was suffering from nightmares again.

Your scent is always calming to him. It was his first thought as he was sitting on his makeshift bed for the night, sweat running down his body. Bucky would love to say yes to sleeping in a bed with you, but he knew that his nightmares can cause him to punch something next to him and he didn’t want to risk hurting you.

“Are you okay, Buck? Do you need anything, I can make you tea,” you offered, bushing your fingers softly over his stubble. But again, he smiled softly and shook his head. Your touch was so soft, so loving and he got lost for a moment until you nodded and placed a pillow and a blanket on the couch.

“You know… we can also build a blanket fort,” you suggested with a grin, but Bucky just chuckled and patted  the space next to him.

You sat down, turning to look at your best friend. He smiled, his fingers fidgeting in his lap as you place yours on his and hold his big hands in your smaller ones.

“We don’t have to, if it makes you uncomfortable,” you said, smiling as softly as possible while you stroked your thumb over the back of his hand.

“I-I would love to… but…” Bucky stuttered, his eyes were roaming over your face, trying to find anything that told him that you judge him. However, he could only find nothing but pure love, affection and understanding.

“I just… you remember what I told you about my arm and my past?” You nodded, narrowing your eyes. Bucky inhaled deeply, bringing one of your hands to his metal arm, letting you touch it. He always let you do it, since the day you told him that this arm is a part of him, it makes him special. But you also told him that his arm doesn’t tell who he is because even though he was the winter soldier and had a metal arm there too — it was a different one plus he was under the control of people who used him. But it wasn’t him.

With that he allowed you to touch his arm, it was even claiming for him because you weren’t afraid of him. You accepted and loved him, with the metal arm, with his story. It makes him feel like home.

“I dream about it, almost every night. But when I fell asleep the last time here, I didn't have nightmares. But-but I sometimes punch something so I don’t want to hurt you,” Bucky confessed. You couldn’t help the small quirk of your lips — he felt so comfortable that he doesn’t even have nightmares. But you also couldn’t help the glisten of your eyes; it was awful to know that those dreams made him struggle.

“I’m sorry to hear that. You can always sleep here if you want. And just for you to know… I can take care of myself so if you ever want to cuddle, just tell me, I’m sure I can take care of you and also that you won't hurt me,” you assured him, leaning closer to press a soft kiss on his cheek, causing him to blush softly. He nodded with a thankful smile, bringing your hand to his lips and kissing the back of it with a grin on his beautiful lips.

“Thank you, doll. Now go to sleep, I’m sure you’re tired. I don’t want to keep you awake just because I can’t sleep,” he smirked, letting go of you to let you go back to bed, but you stayed where you were and just let your eyes roam over his handsome face a while longer.

“You sure? I don’t mind staying up with you a while longer if it helps you,” you said but he nodded, assuring you that he is fine. “You can turn on the television if you need some background noises.”

With that, you got up and walked back into your bedroom. Bucky smiled softly, leaning back before getting comfortable and turning on the television. Your scent surrounded him and he fell asleep pretty quick, relishing the first good sleep he’d had in weeks.

That was a few weeks ago and even though Bucky loves sleeping at your apartment, sometimes he is out late and doesn’t want to wake you. Plus he wants to give you some privacy. You’re not dating anyone, but as much as he loves your company, he doesn’t want to scare you away.

With time, you become his everything. You’re the one who holds him when he thinks he falls — you’re the one, his one. And even though his feelings get stronger, he hasn’t told you yet. He’s too scared — maybe you don’t feel the same and he will destroy the friendship you both developed so perfectly.

Bucky knocks at your door. He is on his way to his dinner with Yori but he has to see you. He told the older man a lot about you, but he hasn’t introduced the two of you yet.

In one of Bucky’s hoodies — the one you picked out of his wardrobe when the two of you made a mess in the kitchen — you walk to the door and open it. Your face immediately lights up as you see your best friend, who's smiling softly at you.

“Doll! I’m just on my way to dinner with Yori, wanting to check after you—,”  his voice trails off, looking you up and down. His blue eyes light up as he notices the hoodie you’re wearing, and his nose scrunches with the slight curl of his lips. “Looking good in my clothes, sweetheart.”

You giggle, ducking your head to try and hide the warmth that coats your cheeks. You play with your fingers in front of you, then you look up to meet his intense blue eyes. They look so soft and there is nothing but love and affection in them when he looks at you.

“I’m fine, thank you, Buck. Just came home from work, going to make myself some dinner and then watch a movie, probably,” you say. Bucky narrows his eyes, tilting his head slightly and he looks just adorable like that. “Don’t worry, not gonna watch our series without you! Hope you enjoy dinner with Yori, tell him ‘Hey’ from me.”

Bucky nods, he doesn’t want to move, he would prefer to stare at you a while longer — maybe just forever. He knows the two of you are meeting the next day for your movie night, but he wants to be around you all the time. He inhales deeply, looking toward the kitchen — there is no smell of food, yet.

“W-would you like to join us?” Bucky stumbles over his words. “He would love to meet you, and I would love to have you around. But only if you want to of course!” He hopes that you agree and go out with him — even though it’s not a date, but for him it’s pretty close to one.

Your smile widens as you nod. “Sure! But I have to change clothes, pretty fast— at least my pants.” With that you’re walking into your bedroom to change. Your heart races and the butterflies in your stomach go wild — it’s just a dinner with Bucky and a friend of his. But at the same time it's dinner with Bucky, who is going to introduce you to one of his friends.

Within a few minutes, you made yourself ready for dinner and walked back to Bucky, who was waiting patiently waiting for you with a soft smile tugging at his lips.

“We should put some of my hoodies into your wardrobe so you can always wear them,” he mumbles, his eyes roaming up and down your body and taking every inch in. You look stunning — like always.

You don’t have to wear a dress. Bucky loves you in everything, sweethearts and t-shirts or pants and hoodie. For him you’re always stunning. He can’t take his eyes off you, when he sleeps at yours and you get up in the morning — hair messy and you’re all sleepy. You look like the cutest thing he has ever seen.

“Lets goooo!” You giggle, taking your phone and keys and walking out of your apartment. Bucky closes the door behind you, walking next to you along the floor and out of the building.

Bucky has told you a lot about Yori already, they go out for dinner once or twice a week. Always the same bar and always the same food and drinks but Bucky loves the company of the older man. Even if he has been asking him about you pretty often recently. But Bucky doesn’t mind, he can’t seem to stop talking about how beautiful and sweet you are anyway.

The two of you walk along the street, it’s just a short stroll. He asks you about your day, if you had something nice you could tell him, or if someone upset you during work. Your best friend listens to you the whole time, nodding or chuckling with you.

He always asks you about your day, making sure you had something that made you happy and to get rid of the things that upset you. And even if it ends up with him tickling you until you laugh to have something good to say about the day. As much as Bucky loves to hear and see that someone about the day makes you happy, he loves it more when it’s him who causes your happiness.

Bucky opens the door to the bar. His palms are sweaty and he inhales deeply before following you inside, pointing to the bar where an older man sits. He is obviously waiting for someone while talking to the waitress.

“There is Yori,” Bucky says, his voice sounding slightly broken and when you look at him you notice him shifting from one foot to the other. He smirks at you but it doesn’t reach his eyes — you know that expression.

Bucky often looks like that when people are around and he becomes nervous. Or when someone stares at him with a judgemental gaze, mostly when he is overwhelmed.

You stop in your tracks, turning toward him completely so you block his way toward the bar and take both of his hands in yours. “Buck?”

He hums, letting you know that he’s listening. His ocean blue eyes roam over your face, another attempt of a smile on his pretty lips but once again you notice that it’s not letting his eyes light up like his smile usually does.

“Can you breathe with me? Slowly to calm you down. I’ll hold your hands to help you— feel it?” You ask him, inhaling deeply together with him before slowly exhaling. Bucky nods to answer your question, his thumbs running over the back of your hands. He draws small circles, something that always helps him calm down, feeling your soft flesh underneath his rough fingers.

“S-sorry… just- I’m just a bit nervous. You’re my best friend and I told him so much about you already but he always looked at me with a smirk- that looks like he knows more about our relationship than I do.” Bucky smiles at you, removing one of his hands to wipe a strand of hair behind your ear, chuckling softly. “A-And I just can’t take my eyes off of you, doll. You look so pretty.”

“Thank you,” you giggle, holding Bucky’s hand tighter before you slowly walk to the bar where his friend is already sitting. The older man turns around, his eyes widen a bit, just like the grin on his face, as he notices the two of you. Bucky shifts, offering you the place next to the other man before he takes a seat next to you.

“You look just as pretty as Bucky always described you,” Yori says, causing your best friend to choke on his spit. His cheeks heat up and he scratches the back of his neck as you look at him.

“Told you… told you that I talked a lot about you,” Bucky confesses once again. The woman behind the bar walks toward you, a soft smile appearing on his lips. She silently asks the two men if they want to have the same as always. Both of them nod, Bucky doesn't even look at her, his eyes remain on you.

Then the woman turns to you, offering you a card but you shake your head. “The same as whatever Bucky likes, please.” Whatever it is he always orders, you know you will love it. The two of you have almost the same taste in everything and you know what Bucky loves to eat, so you know that he would never eat something that you wouldn’t like either.

The woman smiles nicely before she turns around and leaves the three of you alone. Yori grins at Bucky, wiggling his eyebrows and you have to admit that’s the funniest and cutest thing a older man like Yori could have done. You chuckle, turning to face Bucky, who could win an award against a tomato.

You place your hand on Bucky’s thigh, running your fingers softly over the firm muscle. “Bucky, do you need some fresh air?” You ask, slightly worried that his skin color could be because it’s too hot or the air too thick for him to breathe right now.

Bucky shakes his head. He places his hand on yours and caresses the back of it with his thumb while he looks into your eyes for a moment. “I’m fine, just- just nervous, you know?”

You nod, then you turn back to Yori, who watches the two of you intensely. His eyes are roaming down to Bucky’s thigh where both of your hands are. “So how long are the two of you dating?”

“We aren’t dating. We’re best friends,” you say, narrowing your eyes at the question. Yori’s smile never fades, his eyes glistening. He doesn’t believe the two of you — or maybe he does but then you both are idiots.

“You should ask her out, James,” the older man says and nods toward Bucky. Your best friend's eyes widen but he smiles softly, shaking his head.

It’s not like he doesn’t want to, but you’re just best friends. You’re everything for him, even though he is more than just in love with you, he is scared to ruin everything. Bucky would do everything for you, but he is still stuck in his past, he is over 100 years old — still looking like a mid 30 year old — but that doesn’t change that he is a broken mess.

“She deserves better than the broken man I am,” Bucky says with a soft laugh. He tries to cover the truth, the pain behind his words but you can see through it.

You would like to smack him for his statement. He may be broken and a mess, but he is still the most loving and sweetest gentleman you have ever met. He never judges you, no matter what it is you have his back, you have his love, you have Bucky. You would actually tell Bucky that you don’t want anyone but him but this would lead into a conversation with more confession — something you don’t want to have during a dinner with one of Bucky’s friends in public.

The night goes well, the three of you are laughing a lot. Yori points out often that the two of you have more than just a friendship, that you both have feelings for one another but you and Bucky play it off. You like Yori a lot, you understand why Bucky likes the older man, why he always eats lunch or dinner with him. After saying your goodbyes to Yori, Bucky and you walk back to your apartment complex. Bucky brings you to your apartment, kissing your cheek softly before he makes his way to his own apartment. Your night is filled with a lot of dreams with Bucky and even Bucky himself has a night — without nightmares — but filled with fluffy thoughts of you and him.

You spend almost your whole free time with your best friend, mostly watching movies or just talking about his or your day. You know everything about his missions with Sam and Bucky suggested that he could take you with him to meet Sam. But this plan changes when Bucky knocks at your door after another mission, his smile as bright as always and behind him another man.

You know that Bucky would come home today, you already made dinner for the two of you but you didn’t know he would bring a friend of his. “Hi, doll! I-I uhm… that’s Sam! He asked to sleep here before he flies to his family tomorrow.”

“Bucky!” You say excitedly as you pull him into a much needed hug. You look over his shoulder to see his friend smirking at the two of you. “Hi, Sam. Come in, Bucky has to give me at least five minutes of cuddles before I let go of him again!”

Both of the men laugh and Sam nods before he walks into your apartment. You let Bucky pick you up, you mean that you get at least five minutes of cuddles from Bucky, and he knows that you can be such a grumpy little thing if you don’t get them. He leads Sam into the kitchen, offering him a drink while he refuses to let you down.

“Does he cling to you like that all the time?” Sam asks jokingly. You turn your head to look at him, chuckling softly.

“Why? Isn’t he such a sweet teddy bear around you?” You ask and poke your fingers into Bucky’s cheeks, squeezing his cheeks softly. “He’s my favourite teddy bear!”

“The cyborg being a teddy?” Sam asks, earning a glare from your best friend. “He’s more like a cold, staring machine.”

Bucky growls into your neck, hiding his face while he inhales your scent deeply. He was away for two days but he missed you so much that he can’t let you down just yet. He doesn’t care that he’s carried you around for ten minutes already, he could do it all day and would never be tired of it.

“I made pizza, your favourite one,” you say and run your fingers through Bucky’s hair, making him sigh into your neck. “Sam, do you like cyborg pizza?”

Sam laughs while Bucky growls once again, but it turns into a chuckle almost immediately. You’re just so cute, he can’t help himself, he can���t stop himself smiling  and chuckling whenever you’re around.

“But I get to keep you on my lap,” he mumbles, letting you down for a moment to place the pizza on the table. Sam watches the two of you, smirking at Bucky. He has never seen his friend so soft and not grumpy around someone. But he likes this version of Bucky, the cute, sweet one, that looks so happy. It's like there is nothing that could make Bucky’s mood bad when you’re around, he smiles all the time, even his eyes are bright and shine in the most beautiful blue.

“I do like every pizza,” Sam nods, arranging the plates you placed in his hands on the table. He puts two of them on one side and one where he sits. Bucky grins at him, placing the pizza on the table before he picks you up and lets you sit on his lap.

Your best friend's arm is wrapped around your waist the whole time, you’re deep in talks with both of the men, getting to know Sam but also some secret and funny things about Bucky.

“And once… it was our first meeting, he landed on top of our car and he smashed the front glass and ripped out the steering wheel.,” Sam says before chewing further on the pizza. Bucky hides his face in the crook of your neck, chuckling softly.

“It wasn’t actually me. It was during the time of the winter soldier,” he mumbles. You run your fingers through his hair, calming him. You know that Bucky isn’t ashamed to talk to you about his past but you also know that he is still slightly tense when it comes to it. And your touch, your closeness and softness, is always calming for him.

“My sister and I are almost done with the boat, maybe Bucky wants to bring you to our little party then?” Sam asks, eying Bucky. “My little nephews and my sister would love you! They already love Bucky, and you’re way nicer than the cyborg.”

“Ey!” Bucky grumbles, gripping you tighter and pulling you more against him. You giggle, shoving a slice of pizza into his mouth. Bucky would love to bring you with him to the party, Sam is a good friend of his, and you’re his best friend, his everything. And even though the two of you aren’t dating, he doesn’t like the way Sam talks about you — that you’re nicer and probably sweeter and more beautiful. He isn’t wrong but Bucky doesn’t like to hear someone else saying such things about his babydoll.

“I would love to meet them, if Bucky wants to invite me,” you giggle. Bucky nods, smirking at you with a mouthful of pizza. He chews on it happily, holding you firmly pressed against his broad chest.

“Would love to,” Bucky smirks, swallowing the pizza before he opens his mouth to let you shove the next slice between his lips. You laugh softly, grasping another and shoving it into his mouth as well.

“So, Bucky said you’re not dating one another?” Sam asks, eyeing the two of you. A smug grin on his face, his eyebrows twitching in amusement. You shake your head, running your fingers through Bucky’s soft brown locks.

“No, he’s my best friend! Why does everyone think that?” You tilt your head softly, causing Bucky to almost choke on his pizza. You’re just so adorable and he can’t help himself but with a mouthful of pizza he can’t chuckle or laugh. “Buck! Don’t choke on your pizza! You need to chew before you swallow!”

Sam makes a lot more jokes about Bucky but in return Bucky embarrasses Sam just as much. The evening is filled with a lot of laughter and jokes. Bucky decides to sleep in your apartment on the couch, while Sam gets Bucky’s apartment — on the condition that he has to promise not to sneak around.

The man was more than just curious what Bucky was hiding in his apartment. Maybe a wedding ring already or maybe some really kinky sex toys? But to not destroy their trust and friendship he promises not to sneak around and he surprisingly managed to not do it.

You spend the weekend with Bucky, he asks you out for some ice cream and invites you also to another dinner with Yori. In the evenings you’re wrapped with Bucky into a blanket, snuggled up on the couch while you watch every kind of movie you can find or play some board games.

On Monday, you had to work again. Bucky told you he would make dinner and you can just come over after work. You know he is making your favourite food, he always does when he cooks for you.

You’re currently walking home from work, a few men following you, nothing too exciting because it’s a public street. But no matter where you walk, they follow you, their voices grow louder and you try to speed up. You can’t walk home, you can’t let them know where you live but they come so close.

“Girl, wait!” One of them shoots and laughs. You hear your blood rushing through your veins. The footsteps of the men behind you coming closer with every step and you feel the panic grow. You try to breathe slowly, try to calm yourself down but it doesn’t work. At least not as long as those guys walk behind you.

“I said wait, whore!” The man growls this time, his pace faster than before and he almost reaches you already. His hand is already reaching out and touching your shoulder. You prepare yourself to be thrown around, to be thrown against a wall or on the ground but it doesn’t come.

You walk further, slowing down the moment you feel a cold arm around your waist. The voices are quieter, almost silent. You inhale deeply, noticing Bucky’s scent and only now you dare to open your eyes further to look at your best friend, who presses you into his side. “Hi, babydoll.”

His voice is soft and shushing, you immediately relax in his warm embrace. Your eyes are locked with his — you’re happy he is there, that he helped you with those weird men who followed you.

“Hey! What are you doing here, Bucky?” You ask, leaning your head against his shoulder while he leads you through the street and toward your home.

“I had to go shopping, your favourite snacks were empty and I didn’t want my best girl to eat something she doesn’t like as much,” he chuckles and kisses your forehead softly. His lips are always so soft and warm, you could get lost in the feeling of them against your warm skin.

“You’re the best,” you giggle. Bucky nods proudly. He opens the door for you, leading you into the hallway before you make your way up to his apartment. Bucky prepared dinner already, he just wanted to get your favourite snacks before you were home, and saving his best girl from some weirdos wasn’t a plan, but he did it anyway.

“I know. Now, get yourself a seat, it’s your turn to decide on a movie first and dinner will be on the plates in just a moment,” Bucky says before he kisses your forehead once again. You take a seat on his couch, making it already comfortable and look for a movie. You can smell the food already, your tummy rumbling and you are already excited to get a taste of this delicious food your best friend made.

You almost confessed your love to him after the dinner, the food was so good and Bucky was so close, his lips so plump and soft you wanted to kiss him so bad. But you couldn’t just kiss your best friend, not before you told him about your feelings, not before you knew about his feelings.

You excused yourself and rushed into the bathroom, you needed a moment to breathe, he was just so soft and warm. Your feelings for your best friend went crazy and cuddling with him didn’t do a good job at calming all your running thoughts.

Even though his lips were really tempting, you didn’t kiss him, his presence made you all dizzy and comfortable — just like always — but you two watched the movie and threw popcorn at one another.

A few hours later you went to your apartment and into your bed. That’s where you are now, your eyes closed but you’re still awake, you can’t stop the thoughts in your mind. Bucky is so present in your thoughts, you tried to hide your love — your feelings — for him but the closer you come to him the harder it gets.

You’re so in love with Bucky, just like he is in love with you. You even have the key to Bucky’s apartment, just like he has yours. So when you suddenly hear a loud cracking noise and a wrecked scream you immediately sit up in your bed.

You know that sound too well, Bucky never screamed that loud but you know the way his voice sounds — it’s him. And your heart clenches as you realize that he has a nightmare, again. He told you once that the only way he doesn’t have one is being close to you. You offered him that he could sleep in your apartment even in your bed with you, but he just smiled. He doesn’t want to be a burden, doesn’t want to take away the little privacy you have. Even though you would rather spend your nights with him next to you, you accepted his decision.

You get out of your bed, wearing one of Bucky’s t-shirts — you stole it — and get the keys to Bucky’s apartment before you run out of yours and open the door to his. You already notice the silhouette  of Bucky in the corner of the living room.

He always sits in a corner after a nightmare, his legs close to his chest and his arms wrapped around himself. The wall behind him doesn’t let anyone attack him from behind and from the spot he is sitting at he can see every entrance.

You slowly walk toward him, turning on just a small light to not scare him even more. “Bucky? Hey, it’s me. Can you hear me?” You ask and get on your knees. A bit of distance between the two of you.

Bucky’s blue eyes are widened and sweat is running down his forehead. He nods slightly, staring at you. His eyes drift through the room every now and then, making sure no one he doesn’t want to have in his apartment comes into it.

“Can I come closer?” He nods again, allowing you to get closer to him. Bucky whimpers, tears stream down his cheeks and you feel your heart clenching at this sight. “I got you, Buck. I’m here, you’re safe.”

You crawl closer to him, your hands reaching out to pull him toward you. Bucky’s head falls against your chest, his hands clawing around your back and he breaks down completely. You run your fingers up and down his muscular back, calming him down.

Bucky holds on to you like you would disappear if he dared to loosen his grip just a tiny bit. “Bucky… we are safe here. You’re safe. We are at home, it’s just you and me here. No one is going to hurt you. I will protect you, I love you so much.”

You don’t even notice that you just confessed your love to him, of course you told him you love him but not like that. The seriousness, the love which is visible in your eyes and for the first time since the two of you know one another Bucky looks at you with a shocked but relieved expression on his face. His eyes still widened from the nightmare but your confession gave him hope — hope that someone as precious and sweet as you could really love someone as broken and messed up like him.

He doesn’t say anything, his face is buried back in your chest after you meet his gaze for a few seconds. He wants to believe that you love him, he really wants but something inside of him tells him that he doesn’t deserve your love.

“I don’t deserve your love…I-i…” Bucky stumbles, he whimpers and pulls you even closer toward him. “I-I want you to love me… b-but I don’t deserve your love…”

“Bucky!” You say, gasping at his words. How can someone as sweet and lovely like him not believe to be able to be loved more than everything, that he deserves so much love? “Hey! Listen to me. You deserve so much love! You deserve all the love in the world. You even deserve the world, Bucky. And I don’t care how broken or messed up you are, I love you!”

Bucky looks up at you once again, his fingers digging into your back. He shakes his head, he wants you to love him, so bad, but he doesn’t want to destroy you. He doesn’t want to hurt you, to break you, to make you like he is. “N-no…”

“Yes, Bucky. You can’t stop me, you can’t make me love you less. No one can, no one will ever make me love you less. I pretended that I could be just your best friend but I can’t anymore. I love you, more than everything, I need you, and I want you to see that you deserve love, all the love!” You say, trying to sound serious but still soft while talking to him.

You’re not sure what came over you to confess all that, maybe because he broke down once you wrapped your arms around him? Maybe it was just the last push after the day and half the night laying awake or whatever it was — you don’t regret it, you could never regret telling the love of your life that you love him, that you care for him — that your best friend is everything for you.

“Doll… you can’t… you— I will break you… I will hurt you. You deserve better than me,” Bucky whimpers, he has you already sitting on his lap, refusing to let go of you.

“It doesn’t matter, even when there would be someone better, I wouldn’t like someone other than you. Please let me love you, let me show you that you deserve to be loved just like everyone,” you mumble, running your fingers through his brown locks.

Bucky nods, letting himself fall more against you, leaning into your touch. He closes his eyes, his heart filled with love and affection. He has waited so long to hear those words from you, and now — no matter how shitty this situation is — it makes his heart race and his feelings for you to grow.

“Can you sleep in my bed then?” He whimpers, looking up at you with teary eyes. You can’t help but chuckle at his cute request, then you nod. Bucky inhales deeply, his breath still shaking but everything worked out so well right now, he couldn’t ask for anything else.

Your love will heal him, he knows it because it has since you got to know one another. Since he helped you to move into your apartment. Bucky knows that he never felt for someone before like he feels for you, no matter how broken he is, he knows that it will never stop him from loving you more than everything.

“I love you too, more than everything,” he mumbles, leaning more into you. “You know… I will never let you go. I will hold you in my arms every night, I will make you dinner, I-i will… be the best version of me I can be.”

“You’re already the best version of yourself, Bucky. You’re the most precious man, the sweetest I have ever met,” you smile softly, cupping his cheeks to make him look up at you. His ocean blue eyes shining with adoration and love, no signs of fear to the nightmare anymore. “Can I kiss you?”

Bucky nods with a soft smile across his lips as he is leaning closer already. You giggle at his impatience. But it was just too long to try not to, so you can’t blame him, it was too long to hold back from kissing one another. With a soft smile, you place your lips on his. And they really are as soft and warm as they look. You sigh softly, letting Bucky pull you even closer and hold you as tight as possible against his broad chest. His lips move softly against yours and he relaxes in your warm embrace, with his lips finally touching yours.

He may think that he doesn’t deserve to be loved — but this kiss lets him forget about all the insecurities and worries he has. The only thought left in his mind right now is how much he loves you, how often he wants to kiss you, that he just wants to hold you and tell you how much he loves you — over and over again. That’s what he is going to do, show you his love for you and he will show you that you’re everything for him, just you, only you as long as you’re with him.

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[gorejo]

▸ BOSS'S FAVORITE - gojo satoru (forbes30!gojo au)

what can you say to the boss's favorite customer when he comes five minutes before closing? Kick him out? Not an option, especially when he tips so well and has a rather cheeky motive to stay and get your attention.

content: 1.1k words. unedited. this is before the breakup! so, college forbes30!gojo. reader is his girlfriend, she/her pronouns. fluff! got this from an anon ask!! so nonnie if you see this, I hope you enjoy! also this is the shortest fic I've made in a hot minute! so be proud of me yall )) :

"you're here again," you monotonously asked, deadpanning with a raised brow, crossing your arms while you leaned to one side.

“Yes, as you can see since I’m seated here to get my order taken.” he smiled amused by your baffled expression.

“Sato—”

"your boss likes me," Satoru smugly responded while he sat back on his chair and crossed a leg over the other, his expensive shoes reflecting the cafe's dim lighting, "i came for him, so don't get mistaken," he teased with a childish smirk.

“And you know, that’s not a way to greet a valid customer. especially with my VIP status,” he huffed with the corner of his lip threatening into a smirk.

"And you know it's courtesy to not come into a store when we're just about to close," raising your wrist to look at your watch, “I don’t know like five minutes before closing.”

"well, don't blame me," he innocently batted his soft eyelashes, steadying his cheek on the palm of his hand, "I was waiting for my girlfriend outside and he so happened to kindly invite me in."

Gojo Satoru was your boss’s favorite. Not only did he effortlessly draw in customers, people curiously entering the cafe just for a closer look at him, only to end up buying a drink and some pastries to chill in the somber ambiance, but he also tipped generously — too generous to be even called a tip.

Those that walk by would do a double take when they would see the white haired man, tall in stature, dressed in a simple white shirt, and black slacks, and would reroute their steps hoping that maybe they were lucky to see him again.

Just by the frosty white of his hair, he gained attention — who wouldn’t stare at a handsome guy, covering his beautiful cerulean eyes with his notable sunglasses chilling on a seat looking through his phone, while he sipped on the most sugary drink the cafe had to offer.

The cafe was especially the busiest whenever he tagged the store on his socials. Flocks of his followers bombarded the store just to see a glimpse of their favorite college nepotism student, who happened to also be unapologetically haughty about his good looks.

And to his mercy, today, he graciously came just when the store was about to close — at least there won’t be a murderous amount of people trying to flock over. 

Because fuck capitalism.

Working on the weekends, and sacrificing your leisure to make money wasn't out of the norm. It was something most college students would do. Make a couple of bucks to comfortably buy that extra cup of coffee with oat milk, or go out with friends for some food or the club.

But for you, you had bills to pay. And it didn't help that your boyfriend was well outside your tax bracket.

He was kind and offered to pay for almost if not all the dates. But with exams rolling around, and your monthly rent just about due, you didn't have enough time to fit him into your schedule.

He never complained, simply worried that you were pushing yourself too harshly. Placing a kiss on your forehead as he tucked you into bed, or cradled you in his arms when he found you sleeping on the couch, he hoped that you could trust him — trust him enough with your burdens but he never pushed. Because he trusted you would come to him on your own time, when you were ready to invite him more into your heart.

So, he's found a rather cheeky way to squeeze some time to let you know he cares. It's just his way is not the most conventional one you could imagine...

“He likes you because you tip well,” you laughed while rolling your eyes.

Clearing his throat, "I know you like to talk to me because I am that handsome,” he opened up the menu and placed a finger to rub his chin while he “actively” tried to decide what to get, “but like I said, I do have a girlfriend and I would like to order please." He chuckled while looking up, giving you a boyish grin — the one that made your heart flutter despite how cheesy he was. 

At this point, it was disappointing how he still affected you. Flustered at his forwardness, you turned around, muttering as you felt a sudden heat radiate to your cheek. “Okay, then call someone when you’re ready.”

“No!” Immediately grabbing hold of your hand, a sharp screech on his chair scraping against the wooden floor echoing through the quiet cafe. He gave it a tight squeeze before he sat down, his puppy eyes pleading for you to wait, “I’m sorry… just, I- I’ll choose soon,” he mumbled, silently sitting back down.

"Okay, then… what can I get for you, Mr. Gojo." you sighed, shaking your head, looking at his fingers lightly playing with yours, “And didn’t you say you have a girlfriend? Not sure if she’ll like this if she saw, ” You smirked.

“eh it’s okay, she’ll understand,” He responded with a hum, “she loves me too much.” his thumb gently rubbed against your skin, the scales of the day’s stress flaking off the more his warm hands massaged yours. “but, give me a minute, gotta read through all the options.”

“You serious?... ” It was so easy to read through his actions — it was laughable, really. 

“Yes, this requires a lot of thinking,” quickly peeping at his watch latched on his vacant hand before humming exaggeratingly, “hmm…”

Tapping your foot, “Any minute now, that’ll be great, Sat —”

"Give me a couple of seconds please,” he stopped you, reading through each item, slow as a sloth — at most twenty items were on the menu, it shouldn’t even take an elementary student this long to read at his pace.

“Sure, whatever for the boss’s favorite, right?” you pursed your lips, your eyes forming faux crescent moons.  

“Oh, I got it!” he chirped, simultaneously closing the menu when you heard your boss off in the distance, shooing your other coworkers into the kitchen, “Let’s close up! Chop! Chop! The faster we finish, the faster we go home!” 

“I need to go help —” you tried heading to the kitchen, not wanting your coworkers to bear the burden of cleaning on their own.

“I'll get —" Gojo hummed, just about to say his order before you cut him off, his firm grip on your hand keeping you from leaving.

"the mochi with zunda, with freshly whipped cream and a side of strawberries to go with it, anything else?" you quickly retorted.

"Oh yes, maybe I can top it off…” elbows leaning against the table with his arms crossed, flashing you with his cheeky smile — the one that showed his teeth and the cute dimple he had on the bottom corner of his lip. 

“with a kiss, because you’re finally off the clock now, right?”

author's note: he's so annoying but I love him to death so that's alright heh

[thetriumphantpanda]

i saw mommy kissing santa claus | joel miller

Summary | Your daughter catches you kissing santa... or does she?

Word Count | 1.3K

Warnings | Mentions of traditional Christmas (A tree, gift giving ect), Joel dressed as Santa, Joel being a daddy again, Joel AS A HUSBAND, smut but not super explicit - oral sex (f) and unprotected PiV, just general fluff really.

Authors note | Firstly, I have to give a huge shoutout to @wildemaven - the Dave York piece she posted recently definitely inspired this little Drabble, along with being stuck in a car with my bestie for three hours with the Christmas radio blaring. This is just some sweet Christmas fluff for us all!

Main Masterlist | Ko-Fi.

amazing divider by @saradika

The way the snow flurries fall outside are still a wonder to you, even after seven years of winters in Jackson. The warmth you remember from Christmas before the end of the world is a distant memory now, the open windows and the light breeze of December now replaced with the biting cold and the four layers you must wear inside your home to keep as warm as possible. It’s magical though, the way it looks picture perfect, just like the movies you would watch back then. If you could, you’d take a photo of it, use it as the family Christmas card.

Turning around from the window, the room is bathed in the orange glow from the fire you set a few hours earlier. The lamp, on Joel’s side of the couch is also helping, as are the frosty lights wrapped haphazardly around the tree, in making it feel normal. Because really it is. This has been your life for the past five years, putting up a tree, setting small gifts under it like you always had before all of this. The three stockings set above the fireplace, ready to be filled in the next few hours – the precursor of joy the following morning.

Sofia had thankfully gone to bed with little fuss tonight. Finally old enough to understand that the earlier she went to sleep, the earlier she could wake up to find out if Santa had paid her a visit. She hadn’t been planned, but then when were children ever a plan in this new world? You’d been scared, Joel had been terrified, but in the end, she had been the most wonderful thing to happen to the both of you.

You settle on the couch, letting the warmth from the fire soothe the aches that the cold now settles across your bones. You’re almost able to fall asleep, when, with clockwork timing, Joel tears open the front door, a flurry of snow and cold following him in as he closes it behind him. You struggled to stifle a giggle as you turn to look at him.

Dressed head to toe in a Santa costume that is far too big for him, not enough time for the town seamstress to do anything other than pin the sides of the trousers in. The hat on his head is almost covering his eyes, his hand pushing it back to sit properly, as he deposits the sack, once full of tiny gifts but now empty, on the ground. He’s got a fake beard on to cover most of his face so that none of the children that did see him would know it was Joel.

“Wow,” You muse lightly, standing from the couch, “I thought it was customary to wait for everyone to go to sleep before you turned up?”

There’s a slight grumble from under his beard as you step closer to him, watching as he pulls the fake beard down to sit around his neck, his beautiful face finally revealed. You set your back against the closed door, leaning against it, fluttering your eyelashes slightly.

“Did you bring us presents, Santa?” You ask, voice sultry and low.

“Depends,” Joel says, voice just as low, “Have you been a good girl this year?”

That low, southern drawl shoots straight between your legs, thighs rubbing together as you shrug at him, wrinkle your nose a little, “You’d have to ask my husband.”

You watch as he smirks, steps a little closer to you, his gloved hand wrapping around your waist, “What would he say?”

“That I can be a handful,” You bite at your bottom lip, “But ultimately, I always do as I’m told.”

Joel leans down, as slowly as possible, mouth so close you can feel his breath across your lips, your body tugged closely to his own now, “Well then,” He muses, “If you’ve been a good girl, it’s only right you get your gift.”

His mouth is on yours in no time, softly pressed against yours, his hand clutching your body close to his as you wrap your arms around his neck, pressing up on your tiptoes so your mouth is finally flush with his own. You open your mouths at the same time, tongues meeting as Joel groans into your mouth, hands pulled from your body just long enough to tear the gloves off his hands, shoving them straight under the hem of your shirt, resting at your waist to move you gently from the door to the couch.

He sets you down on your back, fumbling his big body to cover yours as those hands of his work to undo your jeans - tearing them down your legs enough so he can put his mouth on you. You feel weirdly like a teenager, fumbling with someone on the couch like this, biting down on your fist in order to keep quiet as Joel’s tongue works across your soaked cunt, drinking you down, tipping you over the edge twice with his mouth - the second, with his fingers buried deep inside you - trying to keep yourself as quiet as you can, you know the other option is waking your daughter and having to spend the rest of the night trying to get her to go back to sleep.

It gets harder to hold that noise in when Joel pulls you onto his lap, trousers pushed down just enough for you to sink down onto his cock, that stupid Santa jacket unbuttoned, pushed off his shoulders, your mouth biting down on his skin as he fucks up into you, his hands gripping the meat of your ass to keep you still.

It’s messy, it lasts probably less than five minutes, Joel spilling himself inside of you, your mouth pulled from his shoulder, bite mark evident as he moves you gently, puts himself right so he can carry you up the stairs, tuck you both into bed, his warm body next to yours as you both drift off to sleep, sated and happy.

Then, the next morning, with Sofia on her knees in front of the tree, you sat on the couch, curled into Joel’s side with a smile on your face at the elation your daughter finds in tearing the paper off her gifts, she says something no-one expects.

“Daddy?” She says, big brown eyes looking up at the two of you.

“Yes, Darlin’?”

“Mommy was kissing Santa last night.”

You almost choke on your coffee, spluttering to try and keep your composure, praying to the Almighty that it was just the kissing she saw. Joel though, is cool as a cucumber.

“Is that right?” He asks, looking down at you with a wink.

“Yeah!” Sofia exclaims, “I saw her last night.”

“You were supposed to be in bed.” You chastise her lightly, “What were you doing up?”

“I heard the door open,” She says, so matter-of-factly that it’s like having a conversation with an adult, “I wanted to meet him.”

“Well, you see,” Joel speaks, “Sometimes, to get your presents from Santa, he’s gotta ask for somethin’ in return, all that travellin’ in one night and he sees your pretty mama?” He shakes his head, “I’d ask her for a kiss too.”

She mulls it over a little, small hands holding onto an unopened gift, then clearly accepts the explanation as she tears into the paper.

“Nicely saved,” You whisper into his ear, lips pressing a kiss to the delicate skin behind it, “Christmas is saved.”

“Oh baby,” He whispers back, taking the lull in Sofia’s attention on the two of you to look down at you, “You can’t think you can kiss Santa and get away with it?” His low voice sends a silver down your spine, “You’re gonna have to make up for that later."

[literaryavenger]

You Were My Sunshine

Summary: Once a year you disappear for a whole day. Nobody knows where you go or what you do, but the team has learned to let you have your privacy. This year though, Bucky's curiosity gets the better of him and he follows you.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: Mentions of death. Grief. Some angst. Fluff. No mentions of Y/N.

Word Count: 3K

A/N: I realize this is a little heavy and you absolutely don't need to read it. This one's mostly for me, but I thought why not post it and let Bucky comfort other people, if you need it. As always, my inbox is always open if you want to even just chat. I hope someone likes this. Also, I promise the requests are coming, a little slowly but they're coming. I'm on vacation for two weeks so I'll spend the time writing, probably.

Masterlist

“Have a good day.” Steve calls after you as you pass the kitchen.

You stop in front of the door to smile at Steve and wave at the team as they all have breakfast together before you keep making your way to the elevator that will take you to the parking garage.

“So, we’re really just accepting this?” Bucky asks the team when the elevators close behind you and he’s sure you can’t hear him.

“Yes, Buck.” Steve says firmly.

“But-” Bucky’s protests are cut off by Tony.

“She’s entitled to her privacy.” He says firmly. “Just let it go, Frosty.”

Bucky ignores the nickname and looks around the team, searching for anyone that might have his back, but nobody else seems to be too invested in your day. Bucky gets up with a huff and makes his way to the training room, resigned that he has to let you be.

You’ve always been an open person, you’re always there for everybody that needs you and you’re not afraid to talk about anything with anybody.

Your life is an open book.

Which is precisely why it drives Bucky crazy that, once a year, you disappear for an entire day and nobody knows where you go or what you do.

You disable all your communication devices, the tracking in your car and you don’t use credit cards anywhere. 

It’s like you cease to exist for a day, leaving no trace that you were anywhere.

At least that’s how the team sees it. 

They’ve all tried to figure out where you go, but that’s the only subject that you never talk about and, every time anyone asks you about it, your answer is always the same:

Don’t worry about it.

After so many years, the whole team has decided to listen to you and stopped worrying about it. 

Everyone except Bucky.

It’s not like you’re that close with him, but he considers you his friend and he trusts you, so it irks him that you have this huge secret that nobody knows anything about.

Needless to say, he worries about it a lot.

That’s why right now he finds himself tip toeing down to the garage. He sees you get into your car and drive away and, without even thinking about it, he jumps on his bike and follows you.

He knows this is wrong, he knows he shouldn’t follow you, that you’re allowed to have your secrets. But he can’t help himself when it comes to you. You make him lose control, you make him go insane. 

He just needs you. to know.

So he follows you, as discreetly as only a trained assassin knows how. He follows you into the city and stops a few cars away when you park in front of a secondhand bookstore. Bucky knows that shop all too well, it’s one of his favorite places to visit when he’s in the city.

He waits until you disappear behind a shelf before going in, watching you as you browse the books. It looks to Bucky like you’re looking for a particular book, when you find it, he can see your face lighting up.

You turn the book to look at the back cover and Bucky can read the title very clearly. ‘Harry Potter and the Half-blood Prince’, one of your favorite books. Bucky knows that because he’s talked about it with you for hours, along with all the other books of the series and the Lord of the Rings books, Bucky’s favorites.

You chat amicably with the older guy that owns the shop while you pay for your book and then leave, getting back into your car with Bucky still on your tail.

Next you go to a small bakery and buy a coffee and a cupcake. Thankfully for Bucky you’re too distracted by talking with the nice, old lady that owns the place to notice him buying his own coffee.

He follows you again as you cross the street to the park in front of the bakery and walk until you find a secluded spot. You sit down against a tree and continue peacefully reading your book under the summer sun while sipping your iced coffee.

Bucky sits on a bench nearby where he has a visual on you, but you can’t really see him unless you were really looking for him. But you’re so engrossed in reading that Bucky’s sure he could sit next to you and you wouldn’t even realize it.

He knows you get like that when you’re reading something that captures your attention, and the Harry Potter books always do, no matter how many times you’ve read them already.

Bucky always thought you looked so cute while reading. You make no attempt to hide your reactions and it amuses him. So he spends the next few hours just watching you read, watching your beautiful face shining in the sunlight as you frown and snort and laugh and pout as your eyes dart around the pages.

It’s actually relaxing, he thinks to himself. Is this what you do every year? Take a whole day just to read without the chaos of the Compound and nobody to bother you?

But why would you be so secretive about this? Reading for hours with a cup of coffee is something you’d done countless times in your room, on the roof, in the backyard of the Compound or even in the common room, never really bothered by the noise the team makes when you’re so into the words you’re reading.

So why do it in secret?

After a few hours, around lunch time, you finally come out of the book’s trance and gather your things before getting up.

Bucky frowns when you don’t get back into your car and follows you as you walk to a small family owned Italian restaurant that Bucky’s never been to but always wanted to try. He discreetly follows you in and takes a table in the back where you can’t see him.

He watches you interact with the owner, the waiter and even the cook comes out to talk to you. It’s clear that they all know you and it seems to Bucky like you’re pretty close to them even though he’s never even heard you mention this place before. When you’re done eating, Bucky sees you playfully fight with the owner that doesn’t want to let you pay so you leave a generous tip that amounts to more than your check is and the owner chuckles to himself when you wink as you walk out.

After lunch, which Bucky has to admit was pretty good, he follows you to a flower shop a couple of doors down and he’s surprised to see the owner greeting you like old friends. It looks like she was already anticipating your arrival, a bouquet of blue roses already on the counter and ready to go when you arrive. You chat with the older woman for a few minutes before paying and leaving the flower shop to go to your car.

It’s clear to Bucky by now that you obviously have a routine on your secret day, and everyone you see on this day knows it.

So why don’t the Avengers? 

You looked so comfortable with all the people you’ve met today, Bucky can’t help but think that maybe you don’t feel like you belong on the team.

You drive until you arrive at your destination and Bucky is both surprised and confused when you park in the parking lot of a cemetery, get out of your car and enter it.

He subtly follows you in, watching you walk past a few graves and it looks to him like you know your way around by how effortlessly you walk without needing to check the names, stopping at one almost at the end of the row you were in while Bucky keeps his distance, always making sure to stay out of sight.

He sees you take a deep breath before kneeling in front of the grave and putting down the bouquet of flowers in front of it.

“Hi, mom…” You wipe the dirt off the tombstone and tidy the flowers in front of it with what Bucky’s sure it’s a forced smile. “Happy birthday.”

You take out the cupcake you bought that Bucky now realizes you hadn’t eaten yet and he sees you put a small red birthday candle on it and light it, then you just look at it for a few seconds before you sigh and blow it out.

“So…” You say quietly, looking back at the tombstone and Bucky can see a tear falling down your cheek.

A piece of Bucky's heart breaks seeing you so vulnerable and hurting like this, but he stays put no matter how much he wants to be at your side right now.

Bucky stands there in complete silence, hearing everything you say, hanging on to every word. He hears you talk about everything that happened in the past year, he listens to you talk about missions and parties and holidays. He hears you talk about the whole team and his heart flutters a little when you mention his name too.

You talk for a while and, after he assumes you run out of new things to say, he sees you taking out the book you just bought today.

“So, this year we finally got to the half-blood prince.” You say with a small smile. “It’s our favorite, hadn’t read it in a while.”

Bucky sees you open it and go to the page you left the bookmark in.

“It took me longer than I thought to find your favorite quote, I have to admit.” You say with a small chuckle. “It’s like 400 pages in, don’t judge me.” 

Bucky chuckles quietly at your playfulness, even in this situation. He can’t help but find you adorable.

“It is the unknown we fear when we look upon death and darkness, nothing more.” You read the quote before closing the book and looking back at the grave. “That’s what you told me when I was scared of the dark…” You say quietly with a smile.

“And that’s what you told me before you…” You trail off, not being able to finish your sentence as tears start streaming down your cheeks but Bucky has a pretty good idea where you were going.

That's what she told you before she died, so you wouldn't be scared.

He’s more than surprised that he didn’t know your mother died, and he’s pretty sure the rest of the team doesn’t know either.

Admittedly, families are a very touchy subject for the Avengers.

But Bucky’s even more surprised to see you breaking down, something you’ve never done before. You’re cheery, you’re bubbly, you’re everyone’s little ray of sunshine.

And it breaks Bucky’s heart to know you’ve been falling apart when you’re by yourself all these years.

“I’m sorry I only come here once a year, I just…” You start, so quietly that Bucky’s glad he has enhanced hearing otherwise he's sure he wouldn't be able to hear you. “I miss you so much and I can’t… I can’t bear this.”

He sees you running your fingers gently over the tombstone as you take a deep, shaky breath, but you can’t stop crying.

“I’m trying to be the person you loved…” You say after a moment of silence. “Your little ray of sunshine.” You chuckle softly through the tears.

It makes sense to Bucky now why you always try to be there for everyone else. It’s how you’ve always been, apparently. Always making sure no one feels alone because deep down you feel the most alone, and you don’t want anyone else to feel that way.

You are my sunshine

Bucky’s thoughts get interrupted when he hears you quietly starting to sing. 

My only sunshine

Bucky knows this song. It’s a lullaby that he’s heard you sing once before.

Clint’s family visited him at the Compound and you offered to watch his kids so he and his wife could have a date night.

You probably didn’t realize he heard you, you probably thought you were alone and it’s not like he was spying on you. He just happened to pass by when you were in Clint’s room, trying to get the three kids to sleep by singing to them.

You make me happy, when skies are gray 

You take a breath before continuing but your voice wavers a little. 

You’ll never know, dear, how much I love you

Bucky can see you’re having trouble getting the words out, your voice almost breaking.

Please don’t take… My sunshine… Away

Before you can even get the last word out, you break down completely, burying your face in your hands while sobbing.

Bucky feels his heart break as he takes in your pain. He wishes there was some clear and simple solution to making this all better for you, but there's always been so much he doesn't understand about complex emotions like these. 

Right now, as he's watching how broken you are, though, he knows that he doesn't even care about understanding. He just wants to comfort you, to try and make it better...

Bucky comes to rest beside you, he kneels down to your level and places his hand gently on your shoulder. “Hey…” He says quietly.

His presence startles you and you go into defense mode, taking his hand on your shoulder and bending it, then using your grip on his arm to push him face down on the ground.

Bucky didn’t expect you to react so quickly and aggressively which makes it easier for you to catch him off-guard and pin him down.

“Goddammit, Bucky!” You say after you finally recognize him and let him go, getting up and scrambling back to put some distance between you and him while breathing heavily.

For a moment, Bucky is a little stunned. It's rare that anyone is able to get the jump on him like that. But then he snaps back to reality. He lets you make your distance while getting back to his feet and stands a few feet away from you.

“Did you fucking follow me?!” Your sadness is quickly forgotten and replaced with anger.

“I…” Bucky doesn’t know what to say. He knows he’s in the wrong here and he has no defense for himself when he knowingly violated your privacy. “I’m sorry, I didn’t-”

“You didn’t what?!” You snap at him. “You didn’t understand what the meaning of privacy is?!”

Bucky doesn’t know what to say, he’s never seen you this angry at anyone that’s not an enemy and surely never at him.

“I’m sorry, okay?” He says quickly. “I’m sorry, I was just curious, I didn’t think this would be it, I thought…”

“You thought what?” You say when he trails off, clearly pissed as you cross your arms in front of your chest.

“I thought maybe you were a supervillain…” He jokes weakly, trying to make you laugh. “Or a stripper.”

His last word gets a surprised laugh out of you as you, fortunately, understand he’s just joking before you actually punch him in the face.

Bucky lets out a sigh of relief as he sees you laugh and then takes a tentative step towards you.

“I really am sorry…” He says quietly, reaching out to put his hand on your shoulder. “I know it was wrong of me to follow you, and I didn’t plan on bothering you at all, which doesn’t make what I did better,” He quickly adds when he sees you’re about to say something.

“But when I saw you crying, I just… I couldn’t help myself.” He trails his hand down your arm to your hand and takes it in his. “You’re always there for everybody, I don’t think it’s fair that you don’t let anybody be there for you.”

You look at him for a long moment, processing his words. Of course you know he’s right, you don’t let anybody be there for you, but you also never really believed anyone cared enough to.

But looking at Bucky right now, it feels like he really does want to be there for you...

So you let him.

You look back down at the grave, your hand still in his as you intertwine your fingers together.

“She died when I was 14.” You say quietly. “I only had her, so I was on my own after that…”

Bucky listens quietly, his eyes on your face as he sees the tears starting to gather in your eyeline again.

“A few years later, Natasha and Clint found me during a mission. They saw me knock out a dude that cornered me in an alley and they were impressed…” You have a faint smile at the memory although it’s clear you’re about to cry again. “They offered me a place in the SHIELD Academy and, after that, I don’t know… I wasn’t alone anymore.”

You look back at Bucky to find him looking at you intently, his gaze intent and unwavering. 

“Doll…” He says quietly while cupping your face with his free hand as he sees you holding back tears. “It’s okay to be vulnerable in front of the people you care about. You taught me that.”

His gentle words, the way he softly strokes your cheek and the way he’s looking at you so lovingly, it’s all too much for you and can’t hold back your tears anymore.

With a broken sob, you bury your face in Bucky’s chest and hug him tightly, clinging to him while he wraps his arms around you and hugs you just as tight, kissing the top of your head before nuzzling his face against your hair.

In this moment, while holding you in his arms, Bucky realizes it’s not like you don’t feel like you belong with the Avengers.

This is just something you feel like you have to go through on your own because you’ve always had to.

And he’ll be damned if he lets you go through it alone ever again.

Drabble

[satoruxx]

SWEET SNACKS.

✧ PAIRING: gojo satoru x reader | 2.3k words

✧ SUMMARY: tooth rotting fluff, meet cute, battles with inanimate objects, reader's got exams bc i have exams, satoru's whipped af (as usual), sorry i love writing him as a simp, reader is also whipped bc this is gojo satoru, bonding over snacks !!

✧ RHEYA'S NOTE: if you saw me tryna post this yesterday no you didn’t. this was supposed to be a quick drabble oops. but it's finals week so i'm offering this piece of fluff to maintain sanity and gush over the meet cute i will never have. if y’all are also dealing with finals, i'm wishing you the best !!

satoru strolls down the bustling streets with a quiet hum, hands shoved deep into his jacket pockets to keep them away from the bite of the cold breeze. his boots crunch against the thin layer of melting ice that has formed overnight, now warming under the cold afternoon sun that coyly hides behind gray clouds.

honestly, he wasn't the biggest fan of weather like this, and he wouldn't have stepped out on any other day. but one meeting with the higher ups had his mood souring, and shoko had suggested he take a walk, maybe grab something to eat.

he knew better than to argue with her, especially since she could somehow read him better than most people could—scary.

so here he was, trudging down the streets of tokyo with his hat pulled over his ears, cheeks pink from the frosty air as it dances across his skin. despite the weather, satoru thinks there's something oddly peaceful about the city, the quiet chatter and sounds of boots scuffing against pavement as he turns a corner to head to the nearby vending machines he's frequented so many times.

the peace is broken by an annoyed grunt, and satoru looks up.

"are you serious?" another irritated groan. "of all the days…"

he takes in the scene with interest.

even with all the anger that he's not quite understanding, he thinks you're so undeniably pretty—puffy jacket hugging your body and the warm scarf resting around your neck. your brows are furrowed, exasperation tugging your features into expressions that shouldn't look so endearing.

you groan again, slamming your curled fist against the glass of the vending machine—frustration ticks at your brow.

and why wouldn't it?

nothing was going your way today. it had already started off badly, the atmosphere filled with gloom that made it impossible to want to leave bed. but you had to force yourself to miserably extract your body from the warm cocoon of blankets and pillows that urged you back with a siren's call—a promise of comfort that looked all too enticing.

and then, when you finally did manage to drag yourself to the library to sit down and study, nothing was sticking. you read through paragraphs over and over until your head was spinning, dizzy with information that wouldn't absorb, and that fact is nothing if not disheartening. the impending quickness with which your final exams were approaching made you feel even sicker, so you decided to take a twenty minute break to grab a drink from the nearby vending machines.

but of course, even that couldn't just work out.

satoru watches you stand in front of the machine with a glare, before you're shoving your weight against it, huffing as it remains in place and hoping that at least one of your efforts will prove to be fruitful. he's talking before he can help himself.

"hey, you need some help?"

you turn to face the owner of the voice, finding cerulean eyes behind black shades that so directly contrast the white of his snowy hair. he's tall—abnormally so as he peers down at you with curiosity and a bit of mirth.

you think you've never seen a man so handsome in your life.

then you remember he's asked you a question, and you attempt to swallow down the unnecessary nerves that have taken root in the pit of your stomach. "oh, my uh…my drink got stuck," you reply somewhat lamely, cheeks heating up under his gaze as you think about how utterly ridiculous you must've looked to passersby.

satoru's eyes travel from your face to the machine, noticing the way your drink of choice is stuck in a frozen free fall against the glass and the rack. he sighs in exasperation. "tried hitting it?" he asks, walking closer to stand next to you and take a closer look, even though he knows the answer already.

you're not sure what it is, but this man exudes a certain energy—confidence that leaks through his very skin. it makes you feel like you have no right to be standing this close to him, but all he does is smile at you patiently, waiting for an answer.

so you nod, brows ticking again as the dull throbbing in your fist reminds you of how you had lost the battle with the greedy machine. "yeah, i've been hitting it for the last ten minutes. didn't budge," you sigh, checking your phone to see that there are only a little over five minutes remaining for your quick break. "what a waste of time and money."

satoru watches you shrug helplessly, smiling up at him. "oh well—"

he takes two long strides until he stands right in front of the machine, grips the edges, and shakes it hard.

satoru can feel you gape at him, at the unfiltered display of strength, and the unbothered expression on his face that tells you it didn't faze him. you hadn't been able to move the machine even an inch.

his powerful movements earn you a tell tale thunk, and your heart leaps in excitement as he bends down to push his hand through the slot and pull out your drink. he returns to his full height, an easy smile on his face as he turns around and hands it to you.

"thank you." your voice comes out breathless, a weird kind of excitement thrumming through your veins because it feels like you aren't supposed to know this man.

satoru's smile stretches further when your fingers graze his, taking the drink and popping it open eagerly. he watches you take a sip, oddly pleased with himself at the sheer joy on your face. he doesn't quite understand why this drink looks like it's made your day, but he doesn't ask because you look so sweet drinking it.

"how did you do that anyway?" you ask after you drink a little, curiosity so obvious in your tone. "i tried so hard to move it and it didn't budge at all."

satoru smothers a smile, fighting back the urge to say something stupid. instead he grins, cheeks warming a little under your eager stare. "guess i'm just strong."

you make a face, raising a brow with a playfully disbelieving expression as you cross your arms—to which satoru just laughs. "what's your name?" he asks.

you purse your lips, hiding a smile as you tuck your nose behind your scarf. you give him your name, almost shyly, and satoru tests it on his tongue. he decides he likes the flow, cocking his head as he replies with his own.

"satoru."

for once, the pressure of his last name doesn't permeate the air, and he's all too grateful for it. he turns around to approach the machine again, and he can feel your somewhat confused gaze on his back.

you watch as he stands there for a good minute, his back to you as he ponders the choices in the vending machine like they'll lead to life or death. then he shoves in a bill and clicks a few buttons, and within a couple of seconds, you hear the thud of two things falling.

he remains facing away from you for a few more seconds and then turns around, and you see that he's bought a chocolate bar and the same drink that you have in your hands. you raise a brow.

"well you did almost just lose your life trying to fight a vending machine for it," he says, shrugging his shoulder nonchalantly. "figured it'd be good to try."

you sputter over your words, embarrassment crawling up your neck, but satoru laughs good-naturedly. his eyes shine with mirth as his shoulders relax. "i'm kidding." he stresses, smiling into the collar of his jacket. "but it does look good so…"

he opens the drink and takes a sip, eyes squeezing shut dramatically as he hums at the sweet flavors washing over his tongue. you suddenly feel like getting revenge for his unfiltered teasing.

"well?" you hum cheekily, taking a sip of your own and raising a playful brow. "taste good?"

satoru laughs—a full, pristine sound that makes him throw his head back. "yeah," he agrees easily, feeling oddly fond of the way your voice curls around your words. "it's sweet, i like it. you've got great taste."

somehow the words of this man you've met not five minutes ago cause the muscles of your heart to trip over themselves. you watch him peel open the candy bar, a brand that's unfamiliar to you.

"what'd you get?" you ask, unsure of where the confidence to speak up is coming from. a man like satoru—so unflinchingly ethereal—would normally have your lips zipping and throat muted.

he holds up the bar with a grin. "my favorite."

there's a pause, followed by your sheepish smile, and satoru gapes at you, cerulean widening so clearly behind a backdrop of white. he takes in your innocently confused expression and his ribcage shakes with thuds. "what, you've never tried it?!"

before you can even shake your head no, he's breaking off a piece and handing it to you.

"no, oh my goodness, it's yours—"

"take it." he pushes his hand closer to you, eyes staring imploringly, and you sigh, reaching up to take the piece from between his fingers. a graze of skin—he's warm.

"thank you." you slip the piece past your lips, not at all surprised by its sweetness and yet a little taken aback by its underlying comfort—a rush of warmth.

"good." you're nodding, smiling between chews as satoru's stomach flips. "really good."

he chuckles, all too triumphant for something so menial. "told ya."

you laugh, a quiet subdued sound that satoru wishes he could hear more of. "thanks for getting my drink out," you say. "i really needed it today."

"oh yeah?" he finds himself asking. "how come?"

you sigh, smile dropping as a bit of fatigue makes itself comfortable on your face. "ah well, i've got final exams this week. i've been studying like crazy. nothing's really sticking, and the closer i get to the exams, the more annoyed and stressed i get."

satoru hums, not envying you for a minute.

"so it kinda felt like a kick in the butt from the universe when the drink decided to not just…"

he laughs again, taking another piece of chocolate and chewing on it soundlessly. "i gotcha."

you grin, curling your fingers around each other to diffuse some warmth back into them. "yeah."

there's a silence that follows—not uncomfortable, not unwelcome. you take quiet sips of your drink, and satoru breaks off little pieces of the chocolate bar to chew on. his eyes linger on you, watching the way your lips curl around the bottle, the way your fingers rub against each other, the way the cold has settled into your nose and cheeks and made a home amongst your skin.

when you look up at him, he looks away, throat oddly parched. his fingers flex.

"here, the rest is for you," he says, pushing the half finished candy bar into your hands.

you shake your head immediately. "no way! you paid for it! besides isn't this your favorite snack?"

satoru shrugs, shoving his hands into his pockets with a grin that looks too happy. "you liked it, didn't you?"

you nod, slowly, like you're confused at what he's getting at. "well then, enjoy the rest of it. i buy them all the time—i don't mind sharing this one."

you can't help the soft smile that graces your lips, looking up at him with an odd sense of gratitude and surprise—touched that someone could be so casually kind.

"then thank you," you laugh quietly, eyes fluttering against the gust of cool wind that tickles your skin. "i'll enjoy it."

satoru grins, uncharacteristically pleased—he won't ever admit it, but he's glad shoko told him to take a walk. he'll have to thank her when he gets back.

he clears his throat, offering you a small wave as he turns on his heel to head back to the school. "well then, see you around. good luck with your studies, yeah?"

you smile with a gentle nod, oddly rejuvenated after seeing bright blue eyes and snowy hair. "thank you."

and then he's disappeared into the crowds. you laugh to yourself quietly, looking down at your drink and the half-eaten candy bar nestled between your fingers. a part of you feels strangely forlorn, wishing that you had the guts or confidence to talk to him a little longer—ask a little more.

but you've never been good at that, so even just this small happiness you'll take in stride. you grin to yourself, shoving the drink into your bag and slinging it over your shoulders.

you begin walking back to the library, fingers breaking off pieces of the chocolate and savoring the sweetness on your tongue. somehow you didn't expect a man with such an imposing presence to enjoy simple sweet things like this, but that just makes you all the more fond of him.

by the time you've reached the entrance of the library, you're shoving the last piece of chocolate into your mouth, sighing as the doors of reality swing open once more. the meager slice of giddiness that enveloped your very being dissolves, and all the reminders of what's left to do come back to suffocate you.

you bite back a groan, about to throw the empty wrapper in the trash when something catches your eye. you double-take, peering down at it with wide eyes and rapidly heating skin. there are a set of numbers scrawled there, along with a haphazardly written message:

in case you need someone to fight another vending machine for you -satoru <3

[cheollipop]

❅*⋆ 𝙛𝙞𝙧𝙨𝙩 𝙨𝙣𝙤𝙬

navi | taglist

pairing: jung wooyoung x fem!reader

w.c.: 4.4k

genre: smut, fluff, established relationship

while the world revelled in the first snowfall of the year — crowding their windows as the sky painted the streets in a blanket of white — your focus remained elsewhere, too busy celebrating wooyoung.

❅ warnings: food/eating mentioned, unprotected sex (👎), creampie, oral sex (m receiving), deepthroating, men whimpering *drools*, wooyoung is a tease, sub-leaning!reader, cockwarming, creaming, praise, nicknames (youngie, woo; baby, good girl, darling, love), they are so in love i want to throw up

❅ A/N: happiest birthday to my beloved.

nsfw under the cut—minors dni 🔞

Smoothing your spatula over the cooled top layer, small, golden crumbs adhered to the buttercream as you coated the freshly baked cake’s exterior. You peered outside the window atop the sink, a smile stretching your lips when you’d noticed the falling white specs coating the world behind the safety of your glass pane.

You loved winter. You loved the hot chocolate with marshmallows melting into a swirl of whipped cream, huddling up on the couch with candles burning, blankets engulfing your form while the world around you faded away as warmth seeped into your skin. You loved the anticipation of snow, and the bliss it brought with it when it dressed the streets in a soft, pearly gown. You loved the big jumpers you’d sneak out of Wooyoung’s closet, his scent imbedded into the soft fibres, and the homemade soup burning your tongue as he spoon-fed it into your open mouth. Even with harsh storms swaying the trees from side to side, branches banging against your windows, hail pounding on the hoods of cars, and bleak winds breaching the thick layers of cashmere and fleece, winter with Wooyoung was warm.

Too immersed in taking in the sky’s frosty offering, you’d missed the gentle rustling of keys, the click of the front door, mindlessly spreading the slightly-too-thick coating while socked feet padded their way to your idle form. The sudden hands on your waist startled you, a gallop of buttercream flying off the spatula you were holding as your arm jolted upwards, quickly twisting your body with a stunted inhale to face the intruder. Your initial fright dwindled away as you stood before Wooyoung, eyes closed to avoid the buttercream stuck over his eyebrow, his body trapping yours against the marble counter.

“Woo,” you breathed out a sigh of relief, giggles bubbling up in your throat as you reached for the tablecloth you had thrown over your shoulder, wiping his face with your lips drawn tight to suppress the laugh attempting to slip through.

“Is this how you treat me on my birthday?” You wanted to kiss his pout away, but you resisted. “I rushed home to my darling because I missed her so much, and she tries to blind me,” he sulked, fluttering his eyes open once you’d wiped his face completely clean.

This time, you giggled, leaning forward to press your lips together, moving to peck the corners before pulling away. “I’m sorry, my love,” you smiled apologetically, not bothering with teasing him on his birthday. His mouth stretched into a smile that mirrored yours, and you leaned into his body, arms wrapping around his small waist while his circled your own. Glancing down at his shirt, about to scold him for the improper number of layers he’d thrown on before leaving, your eyebrows shot up at the blotchy streaks of brown painting the thin white. “What did the guys do to you?”

He tilted his head to take in the state of his shirt, blowing out a breathy laugh before directing his gaze back to your puzzled features. “Oh baby, you should’ve seen my face. They had Jongho push it down into the cake.”

“Mm, you still have some in your hair,” you grinned while picking out the crumbs from his hairline, running your fingers through dark locks to break up the stuck-together strands.

A gust of air blew over your face as it escaped Wooyoung’s parted lips in a heavy sigh, interrupting your ministrations when he dropped his head onto your shoulder to nuzzle his nose into your pulse point, inhaling the lingering scent of vanilla wafting off your skin and occupying your residence. Pressing a kiss to your neck, he muttered against the soft flesh, “I’ve missed you.”

You smiled, “you’ve only been gone for two hours.”

“Too long.”

Your chest warmed, fingers carding through the soft hairs at his nape while he laid the weight of his head onto your shoulder, breath steady and arms secure around your waist, occasionally tightening as he zoned in and out of the present, content to simply rest within the aura of tranquillity you’d effortlessly granted him. “You’re here now,” you burrowed your nose into his hair, the chocolatey aroma of a wasted cake embedded into the soft locks.

It wasn’t that Wooyoung was fond of winter too — he simply enjoyed spending it by your side. Pretending to be cold so you’d snuggle closer to him, running your hands through his hair and peppering kisses over his face until it scrunched up, blowing hot air over his already-warm palms just to see the corners of his eyes wrinkle as his lips curled with a smile. You'd wait all year to watch the world pile on layers of thick fabric with a sheet of white, quickly melting dust resting on their shoulders, dainty snowflakes bedecking brown locks, irises glinting under the winter sky as you walked down the slippery sidewalk with intertwined fingers swinging between your bodies.

Winter, to you and Wooyoung, meant meaningless walks under the soft snowfall, feeling the momentary chill of the icy flakes on your skin before it reverted back to liquid. Red noses inhaling the crisp air, soft gusts of fog leaving freckled lips as excited words rolled off his tongue — something about a new series he was watching, or was it a movie? The non-prescription glasses he insisted on wearing all but fully beclouded, droplets of melted snow rolling off the plastic frame, his lips cracked with their excessive movement as he kept switching between topics, as though he’d been saving them up for weeks. As though you didn’t share most of the day’s hours in each other’s company, eyes meeting delicate features as the morning sun cast its early rays over your resting figures, and falling shut within each other’s embrace, hoping their gentle touch could carry into your dreams.

Wooyoung knew when to be quiet as well. When the grey, weary skies reflected upon your affect, your warm sheets proving to be a little more difficult to part with, and words a little more difficult to utter. In such instances, Wooyoung offered you peace, safety, warmth. A place to rest and recover, where the passage of time didn’t seem too daunting, where you could find footing at your own pace, with a gaze flooded with unfaltering adoration cast upon you, and arms warmer than the peak of summer holding your trembling form until it found the strength to stand alone, a ghost of a palm on your lower back even as you took your first steps back into the present.

A pleasant exhale warmed your shoulder before Wooyoung’s body retreated partially, arms still encompassing your body while he directed his focus onto the counter behind you. “Has my baby been working on this since I left?” His tone was playful, amused as he peered over your shoulder at the crumb-coated cake left unfinished.

The corners of your lips lifted into a shy smile, cheeks flushed while you nodded. With your eyes fixed onto a particular stain on Wooyoung’s collar, you’d missed the tenderness of his gaze as he took you in — curling in on yourself while he held you in his arms, flour dusted over your sweater and traces of buttercream left at the corner of your mouth from a sneaky taste testing you thought would go unnoticed. Holding your chin with his pointer and thumb, Wooyoung directed your focus back to his face, greeting you with an easy smile before leaning forward to close the gap between your lips. They sashayed like dancers, moulding against one another in a gentle, yet gradually deepening kiss, noses pressing against one another as Wooyoung stepped further into your space.

And just like that, he was gone again, moving back to moon over the blend of abashment and disorientation taking over your features while your lips continued to chase his, the plushness lingering over your senses, and you wanted more. But the hands on your waist were twisting you clockwise until you faced the loitering snowfall once again, Wooyoung’s arms now on either side of you, bracketing your body against the counter while his lips feathered over the cartilage of your ear as he spoke, “come on then, don’t let me distract you.”

Your heartrate picked up, Wooyoung’s body heat — despite the intentional space left between your back and his chest — seeping into your skin, not aiding the flush running up your body at the proximity, the not-so-innocent touches, the teasing, the taste of his lips persisting over yours.

“Woo,” the tone was firm, but your voice wavered before you could stop it, and the telltale stretch of his mouth against the shell of your ear told you all you needed to know — Wooyoung was aware of his effect on you, and would work to exploit his power in any way he could.

Slender fingers reached for the piping bag you’d set aside earlier, twisting one of your hands with his free one to place the tool into your open palm. “Here, I’ll help,” his smirk remained, evident in his voice as he laid his hands over your knuckles, following your lead as you adjusted the bag in your hold until it fit comfortably.

You exhaled the breath you’d been holding, steadying your trembling hands and angling your body over the counter, dragging Wooyoung down with you as he watched your measured movements in silence. Pressing down on the sides of the plastic bag, you formed your first buttercream swirl with a meticulous twist of the wrist. You pursed your lips, leaning back ever so slightly to examine it before nodding in approval, bending down once again to repeat the process.

Wooyoung's hand remained perched idly over yours, eyes flitting between your profile and the hands lining his birthday cake’s circumference with — very uneven — swirls of vanilla buttercream. With no trace of your previous bashfulness to be found, Wooyoung found himself mooning over the engaged furrow of your eyebrows, the glossy sliver of tongue held between your teeth, steady hands moving underneath his with no complaint about their added weight; you’ll most likely use that as an excuse to justify the noticeable discrepancy in swirl size, and Wooyoung will most likely allow it, drop the banter and accept you accusations, simply to see the blissful spark lighting up your irises.

Suddenly straightening up into his body, you’d dragged Wooyoung out of his sappy daydreams and back to inspect the finished cake, the decorative swirls appearing more uniform now that they’d been clustered together, the mouthwatering scent of vanilla and caramel so inviting, so homey and pleasant.

As though you’d read his mind, you reached forward to grab a clean fork from the dishrack, not bothering with cutting out a slice before you’d stabbed the cake to scoop out a bite of fluffy, vanilla-coated sponge. Wooyoung's mouth opened without thought as you directed the heaped fork over your shoulder, teeth clanging against the metal as he slid the contents off its prongs. You'd expected the passionate feedback, turning your head as soon as his eyes had fell shut, wishing you’d plugged your ears as soon as the hyperbolic moaning began. Sensing the sway of his body behind you while he chewed loudly, you slid your finger over the coated side of the cake, collecting a bead of buttercream and rotating your body to smear it onto his cheek. The moaning stopped, thank fuck.

The deadpan expression barely lasted, his features melting into that of warmth, affection, love — as though you’d handcrafted the intricate snowflakes painting the world white and placed them into his hands. Wooyoung’s gaze moved to your lips, skipping contemplation, and diving forward to share the sweet remnants of vanilla on his tongue, flicking it over your bottom lip with a sly smile. He trailed tender kisses up your face, starting at the corner of your mouth and up to your cheekbone. And just as your eyes fluttered shut, a warm, buttercream-covered cheek collided with yours, curved nose nuzzling into the warm flesh to smear the sugary cream over your skin. His grip on your waist was unyielding, holding you still while you thrashed in his arms.

“You shouldn’t play with your food, my love,” he grinned, fingers now poking at your sides.

“Woo—” you shrieked and jerked away from his touch, throwing your head back as giggles erupted from your chest. “Please—s-stop!”

He carried on with his ministrations for a few moments more, revelling in the pleasant melody leaving your smiling lips, the joyous expression persisting even after his hands ceased their motion, now resting comfortably over the curve of your waist. It was as though an inconspicuous force drew him to you, finding it laborious to remain detached from your form. The cake on his shirt be damned, he wrapped himself around you, tucking his head into the crook of your neck to inhale the scent of your body wash, pressing feathery pecks over the soft skin.

The corners of your lips curled upwards, sighing pleasantly at the gentle gesture as you smoothed your hands down his back, nuzzling your cheek into his clothed shoulder while the scent of musk and chocolate mingled in the air around you.

Settling in the tranquil stillness with Wooyoung, you could feel the taut, lean muscle lining his back beneath your palms, absorbing his comforting heat as you stood together. “How are you not cold?”

He smiled fondly at the slight lisp you spoke with, tucked so close to his body, his shoulder muffled your words. Pulling back, he placed a wet kiss to the tip of your nose when you’d whined about the sudden parting, and his hands reached for yours. He enveloped the icy digits within the warmth of his own, bringing them up to his mouth to blow hot air into the cocoon he’d created around your hands. Closing his fingers around yours completely, he hoped it’d contain the warmth of his breath, lowering them back down to peer at you through his eyelashes, a familiar glint in his eyes.

“What?” you questioned warily, one eyebrow raised and heat rushing through your body.

Despite his intense stare, his eyes — though slightly narrowed — remained soft, one hand leaving yours to smooth down the hair at the side of your head, the scent of chocolate surrounding you once again as he pressed his lips to your temple, the leftover sugary cream on his skin spreading over your cheekbone as he spoke.

“My sweet baby, let’s warm you up, yeah?”

--

All plans to ravish you vanished as soon as your knees met the carpeted floor between his legs, hurried fingers tugging at his sweatpants, not allowing him the time to settle back down onto the couch cushions before a wet tongue swiped over the precum beading at his tip.

“Baby, you really don’t have to,” he muttered breathlessly, fingers carding through your hair, eager eyes watching your spit-soaked lips approaching his cock.

Looking up at him through your lashes, you wordlessly took his cockhead into your mouth, fluttering your eyes shut as you lowered yourself further down his length, grunts and choked moans reverberating in your ears and motivating you to carry on. He felt heavy on your tongue, the prominent vein lining his shaft throbbing in your mouth and bitter precum overwhelming your tastebuds. Wooyoung’s thighs tensed under your palms, and glancing up at him, you watched the turmoil his features portrayed, wanting you to move at your own pace, yet the burning want sizzling in his gut begged him to take what he wanted.

“Youngie,” a gentle mumble of his name was enough to drag him out of the battles crowding his mind, snapping his eyes down to your face with parted lips and stunted exhales. Dragging your mouth down his length, you watched as his gaze moved to take in the slow descent, then back up at the sound of your voice, “use me however you want, birthday boy.”

You flattened your tongue over underside of his cock, moving upwards to circle around his head, your exaggerated slurping breaking Wooyoung’s composure, the internal battles in his mind coming to a standstill as your warmth engulfed him, eyes beginning to roll back with every inch you took down the rough plane of your tongue. His hands shot up to hold your face, thumb caressing your cheekbones while he kept you in place, languidly rolling his hips into your mouth, head thrown back over the cushions behind him with burning arousal rushing through his body. You nuzzled your nose into the thick hairs at his base, and even as you gagged, your mind floated in ecstasy with every upward buck of Wooyoung’s hips.

“Fuck—‘m sorry darling, you feel so good,” he admired the skill in which you took his cock with lidded eyes, brows furrowed while he held you down until he felt the last of your oxygen warming the skin of his pelvis.

Wooyoung helped you off his length before you had the chance to tap on his thigh, chest heaving as he watched you regain your breath, his throbbing length coated in your spit and spurting translucent, sticky precum in anticipation. He followed the string of saliva connecting the tip of your tongue to his cockhead, swallowing dryly as his body lit up with all-consuming lust. Watching you suck in the air you’d lost, Wooyoung assumed he’d have more time to recover, to push down the hints of an orgasm come too soon, but the sudden fingers around his base offered him no reprieve. Small, firm tugs on the lower half of his cock built him up to an almost-high once again, his voice thinning — groans turned choked-up moans — and his hips involuntarily jerking into your fist.

“W-wait—baby, ‘m gonna cum, please—” he pleaded, but the small smile you tried to hide told him everything he needed to know: you weren’t planning on stopping. You wanted to hear him whimper and whine, watch him squirm and shiver under your touch until he’d dirtied his clothes with his own cum, until his cock could no longer handle the flaring stimulation. But Wooyoung had other plans, grabbing your wrist and sighing as you relaxed your fingers around his cock, shutting his eyes to bask in the calm before opening them once again to take in your dejected features. Too riled up to play your games, like a carnivorous fauna who’d been mercilessly starved for weeks, Wooyoung wanted to feast. “God, darling, I wanna fuck you so bad.”

You thought the couch would’ve been reserved for foreplay and playful teasing, but Wooyoung didn’t bother move to the comfort of your shared bed, simply lifting you off the ground and trapping you under him, the fingers tangled in the hair at your nape tugging your head back to bare your neck while blunt canines left imprints over the delicate skin. Wooyoung’s cock fit snugly between your walls, resting comfortably within your clenching heat while he ravished you, his body weight resting on your pelvis restricting your movement. It seemed as though the raw lust blazing in hooded eyes had dissipated completely, replaced by unwavering patience, gentle pecks and blooming bruises, a throbbing cock seated within your cunt with no plans of moving, of fucking you the way you’d yearned for.

“Youngie,” you whined, a high-pitched whisper that elicited a hum from the man biting into your shoulder. “Please move.”

A breathy chuckle blew over your skin, “I thought the birthday boy made the requests?”

Your expression fell, was it the embarrassment or dejection? Either or, you turned your head to face the backrest, the motion restricted by the hand in your hair, now easing its grip as Wooyoung noticed the flush spreading up from the collar of the flour-dusted sweatshirt he didn’t bother add to the pile of clothes haphazardly thrown over the carpet.

Redirecting back up to your jaw, he planted wet, open-mouthed kisses over its slope, gentle fingers on your chin guiding your gaze back to him. “Oh baby, I’m just kidding.”

His lips settled into an easy smile, soft fringe fanned over his forehead and shimmering beads of sweat forming over the slivers of skin peeking through. The abashment you’d felt faded upon meeting his eyes, void of any judgement, and full of unconditional infatuation. His lips landed onto yours while you were too busy admiring his features — a slow, deep kiss to match the leisure movement of his hips, the drag of his cock over your walls throwing gasoline into the fire burning in your gut. Arm hooking under your knee, he spread you open and laid himself over your lower half.

“What are you—”

“Moving,” a sly smirk paired with a sharp thrust into your welcoming heat, a groan left his parted lips while he watched you melt under his towering frame, the audible squelch of your pussy like music to his ears.

He didn’t give you time to process, elbows digging into the cushion on either side of your head as he built up to a mind-numbing pace, stuffing his cock inside you and revelling in the pleasure painting your features — eyes shut and mouth forming an ‘o’, unable to form coherent words, only a staccato of airy ah’s. His cock was relentless, repeatedly pressing into your sweet spot to light fireworks behind your eyelids, your hips rolling to meet his to create an echo of skin-on-skin between the four walls. The constant squeeze of your pussy around him, the sweet sounds leaving your lips, the firm hold you had around his biceps as he pistoned his hips into you with fervour — Wooyoung’s composure began faltering, and his desperation unveiled itself the deeper he fucked himself into your sopping cunt.

You were so wet, a frustrated whine reverberating in Wooyoung’s throat when he slipped out of you, hands trembling as he hurriedly pushed himself back into your fluttering hole, sighing in unison once your walls were once again moulded to his shape. He lowered himself atop you, his forearms easing some of his body weight off yours while he nuzzled back into your neck, grunts and breathy moans now much closer to your ear, much clearer, sending searing waves of heat straight down to your stretched core.

“So fucking perfect,” he muttered into your skin, “taking me so well, letting me use your cunt the way I want. Such a good girl for me,” he bit down on the column of your throat, feeling it vibrate with your moans as he built himself up to the brink of his orgasm, then slowing down to drag you there with him.

“Fuck, Woo, please—”

Your fingers found the hair at his crown and tugged, not to pull him off you, but to hear the whimpers sounding at the back of his throat. You were close too, so fucking close from the relentless abuse of your g-spot, Wooyoung’s cockhead pressing into it with every forceful thrust into your needy cunt while his pelvis continuously brushed against your swollen clit. The familiar fluttering didn’t go unnoticed, your pussy gripping Wooyoung with its every retreat, swallowing him back inside — inch by inch — with an exhale of relief.

“Close?”

It sounded more like a statement, but you nodded anyway, the hands on his shoulders sliding down his bare back to grip the warm flesh of his hips, desperately guiding them into your heat. The gesture, paired with the doe, sparking eyes you looked up at him with, the gentle tone of your voice as whispered pleads and repetitions of his name escaped your pouty lips, dragged Wooyoung over the edge, tumbling down the steep hill of his orgasm until his vision blurred with unshed tears. The rhythm he'd maintained broke, replaced by sloppy, frenzied thrusts into your dripping cunt, a thick ring of cream forming around his cock as he emptied inside you.

He twitched violently between your walls, and the sudden warmth spreading through your lower belly dragged you down that hill with Wooyoung. You clamped down around his length, halting the frantic pounding as he sheathed himself within your cunt, feeding thick ropes of white into your womb while he shuddered above you, unfiltered moans vibrating against the side of your neck.

It felt like you were still coming, even as Wooyoung used your cunt to milk out the last of his cum, heavy dollops streaming out of the stretched hole, your walls continued to flutter around him, thighs trembling at his side and under his palm. Even as he stretched your leg out for you, refusing to leave the comforting warmth of your cunt while he wrapped his arms around you and twisted you onto your sides, your mind still floated within a cloud of ecstasy.

Was it your orgasm, or was it just Wooyoung? His presence, the soft scent of his cologne and the chocolate in his hair creating a bubble of comfort around your resting frame, his warmth seeping into your skin and lighting your heart ablaze. Today was meant to be about him, celebrating him, but love laced itself into everything Wooyoung did, and he couldn’t help but give, even on a day on which he was meant to take.

“Thank you for today,” the words spoken into your hair were unexpected, and you lifted your head to meet dazed eyes.

“What?”

“The cake, and the dessert,” he smiled at the innuendo, leaning down to peck the tip of your scrunched nose. “Thank you for loving me.”

Dumbstruck, you stared up at the man with glassy eyes, tucking yourself back into his chest before he could question the tearful reception of his words. But Wooyoung only held you tighter, pressing a faint yet reassuring kiss over your hair while you sunk further into his arms. Warm. Even in the midst of winter, Wooyoung was warm.

With the fluffy blanket you’d laid over the backrest now wrapped around your bare figures, you rested within Wooyoung’s secure hold, sharing whispered confessions and hearty giggles while the sun started its descent from its locus. And as the sky shifted from blues to a vivid magenta, you endeavoured to maintain the smile stretching Wooyoung’s lips, to watch his lines around his mouth further deepen until this happiness forever etched itself onto his face.

The world continued to celebrate the first snow of the year — blankets of white now melting over the asphalt — but your focus remained elsewhere, too busy celebrating Wooyoung.

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[soulofapatrick]

They Find Out You're Pregnant: One Piece Boys

Summary: How each boy finds out you're pregnant

Words: 5.7K altogether

warnings: unplanned pregnancy but mostly fluff

Y/N's POV

The scent of sizzling spices fills the air as Sanji orchestrated a culinary symphony in the Thousand Sunny’s kitchen. His deft hands move with practiced grace, a dance that spoke of passion and expertise but for once his cooking wasn’t what got my attention. I’m sidling around Sanji, who’s lost in his world of sizzling pans and aromatic spices. The kitchen is his main, a place where he commands both ingredients and flames with the finesse of a maestro. Today, however, my attention isn’t fixed on his culinary mastery. It’s drawn, instead, to the sizeable tub of salted caramel ice cream tucked away in the freezer, calling to me with its irresistible allure. 

With a casual lean, I snag a spoon from the drawer and make a beeline for the freezer. The cold air greets me as I retrieve the tub, feeling its frosty chill through the container. My taste buds dance in anticipation; there’s something about this particular flavour that has become inexplicably magnetic. 

Returning to the kitchen island, I take a seat, propping myself up on one of the stools, spoon in hand. Sanji, ever engrossed in his culinary creation, doesn’t seem to notice my ice cream indulgence. He moves with a fluidity that’s almost hypnotic, each movement deliberate and purposeful. 

I twist off the lid of the ice cream tub, the gentle scent of caramel filling the air. With a satisfying clink, the spoon dips into the creamy goodness, gathering a generous scoop. As I lift it to my lips, the richness of the caramel mixed with the slight saltiness dances on my taste buds, a delightful sensation that brings an unexpected comfort.

Glancing over at Sanji, I marvel at his expertise. Despite my seemingly distracted state, his instincts as a chef seem to extend beyond just the realm of cooking. His attention to detail is impeccable, noticing even the subtlest shifts in preferences. Sanji hums a tune under his breath, his focus unwavering. I continue to enjoy my impromptu dessert, relishing the smooth, cold sweetness against the backdrop of Sanji's culinary artistry. 

As Sanji begins to fry food, the enticing aroma of spices fills the air once more. He orchestrates the sizzle and crackle of ingredients in a symphony of flavours, the tantalising scent mingling with the lingering sweetness of the ice cream. But as I sit there, spoon poised for another scoop, an unexpected wave of nausea washes over me. The once delightful taste of caramel now feels overwhelming. With a sudden heaviness, I place the tub of ice cream on the counter, the thud echoing louder than intended.

Sanji glances over, concern etching into his features as he notices my abrupt change in demeanour. "Are you alright, my love?” His voice, laced with worry, cuts through the sounds of the kitchen.

I manage a weak nod, but the queasiness intensifies. Without another word, I push myself off the stool and dash towards the bin, my footsteps echoing in the galley. The retching sounds reverberate in the room, a stark contrast to the harmonious melody of Sanji's cooking. Embarrassment floods me as I lean against the counter, my breaths ragged, trying to steady myself. Sanji, ever the attentive soul, swiftly moves closer, concern etched in every line of his face.

“Maybe it’s… yeah, it’s the combination of flavours.” I manage between breaths, feeling utterly mortified at the sudden turn of events. An anxiety plating in the back of my mind as I’m late for my period and have been for a week now but that’s not that unusual with the resent stresses. 

Sanji's worry melts into understanding, his eyes softening with compassion. "It happens," he reassures, his hand resting gently on my back. "Sometimes, tastes change unexpectedly. Let's get you some water.” With Sanji’s comforting assurance, I try to shake off the unease gripping me. As he moves to fetch water, a sudden surge of panic knots my stomach. My mind races, the memory of my late period lingering like an unspoken secret.

“Sanji,” I blurt out, my voice quivering, catching him mid-step. His brows furrow in concern. As he turns back to me, his expression a blend of care and curiosity, “I’m late…” I manage to confess, my words stumbling out in a rush. Embarrassment and anxiety collide, painting a flush across my cheeks. 

“Late…?” His voice trails off as he tries to understand me, brows furrowed. 

I tug gently at his wrist, feeling a desperate need for support, for someone to share this unexpected worry with. "I don't know what to do, Sanji. It’s been a week, and… and I don't know if it’s just stress or…”

With my confession hanging between us, Sanji's eyes widen in realisation, the pieces clicking together as my distress becomes palpable. Before either of us can utter another word, another wave of nausea overwhelms me, and I lurch towards the bin once more, heaving with a force that leaves me breathless. Sanji’s concern deepens as he rushes to my side, his hands instinctively reaching for a glass of water. "Here, drink this," he urges gently, his voice laced with worry.

Gasping for air, I manage to steady myself and accept the water, feeling a mixture of embarrassment and gratitude. Sanji's swift actions and unwavering support feel like an anchor in this sudden storm of uncertainty. 

”Come on," he says softly, guiding me towards the nearby couch, his arm securely wrapped around my shoulder. He kneels in front of me, his eyes searching mine with a mix of concern and care. "Are you sure?” 

I nod weakly, the weight of the moment heavy on my shoulders. "As sure as I can be," I reply, my voice barely above a whisper, the reality of the situation sinking in with each passing second. Sanji's expression softens, his hand gently resting on mine. "We'll figure this out together," he assures, his voice filled with a determination to be there every step of the way, “I love you so much. We’re gonna be parents.” 

Y/N's POV

The sea breeze whips through my hair as I stand on the deck of the Thousand Sunny, watching the waves dance beneath the golden sunlight. Another adventure alongside Luffy and the crew—a thrilling escapade filled with laughter, battles and unforeseen challenges. 

But lately, there’s something different. A subtle fatigue creeps in, and I find myself yawning during moments of respite. It’s unlike me, the one who is usually brimming with boundless energy. Yet, I brush it off, attributing it to the rigorous journey. Each day brings its own set of adventures, and with it, an inexplicable weariness that shadows my every step. Yawning becomes a constant companion, stealing moments of wakefulness in between our exploits. Climbing rigging, engaging in battles, and exploring uncharted territories—all thrilling, yet each exertion seems to compound this unexplained exhaustion.

There's a nagging feeling in the back of my mind, a whisper of something unfamiliar. It tugs at my thoughts during quiet moments, a persistent reminder that something isn’t quite as it should be. Yet, I struggle to grasp its elusive form, brushing it aside amidst the excitement of our journey. 

The crew carries on, oblivious to my inner turmoil, their spirits high as they revel in the thrill of the adventure. Luffy’s infectious laughter, Zoro’s unwavering determination, Nami’s calculating mind—all paint a vibrant picture against the backdrop of the vast ocean. Amidst the chaos and camaraderie, I can’t help but feel a sense of detachment, a solitary island amidst the bustling sea. My fatigue persists, a constant companion whose origin remains an enigma.

Luffy, with his endless curiosity and knack for noticing the smallest details, seems to pick up on my weariness before I even acknowledge it. He catches me dozing off during our travels, his wide grin turning into a puzzled expression. 

"Hey, Y/N! Are you okay?" His voice, filled with genuine concern, cuts through the hustle and bustle of our adventurous escapades. 

I nod, forcing a smile. "Yeah, just a bit tired. It's nothing, really.” 

Luffy's concern persists, evident in the furrow of his brows as he gazes at me with unwavering attention. His wide, innocent eyes betray his curiosity, searching for answers that even I can't provide. "You sure?" He asks, his voice tinged with a childlike sincerity that tugs at my heartstrings. 

Luffy’s concern, like an unwavering beacon of warmth, persists despite my feeble attempts to brush off my weariness. He shifts closer, his arms encircling me in an unexpected but comforting embrace from behind. His embrace is gentle yet reassuring, as if he could shield me from the exhaustion I can't shake. I can't help but chuckle softly at the suddenness of his affection, feeling a sense of ease washing over me as I lean back slightly, finding an unexpected comfort in his embrace. The weariness that had been pulling me down seems to dissipate for a moment, the warmth of his care a soothing balm to my tired soul.

But even amidst this comfort, Luffy’s intuition remains unyielding. His embrace lingers just a moment longer, his gaze still searching for answers, as if he could decipher the unspoken truths hidden behind my worn-out facade. His childlike sincerity tugs at my heart, urging me to share what I can't quite articulate.

"I'll be fine, Luffy," I say softly, trying to reassure both him and myself, though doubt niggles at the edges of my words. His concern is a testament to his unwavering loyalty and care, a reflection of the bonds we share as a crew. 

Despite my attempts at reassurance, Luffy's gaze holds a depth of understanding that transcends words. He doesn't press further, but the lingering concern in his eyes speaks volumes, a silent promise to stand by me, no matter what uncertainties lie ahead. And as we carry on with our adventures, I find solace in the unspoken support of a friend who seeks to understand even the mysteries hidden beneath a worn-out smile.

His wide eyes dart between mine, a silent conversation unfolding, his desire to understand evident in the furrow of his brows. And with that unspoken exchange, he reluctantly accepts my explanation, bounding off with a promise to resume our adventure. He heads off in the direction of Nami and Robin who are talking quietly, asking them something that has them squealing and gushing over something and the three begin tot talk animatedly but too far away for me to hear. 

It doesn’t take long for me to find out as Luffy’s is calling for my attention, “Hey, Y/N!” His voice is tinged with excitement. His finger points at something I hadn’t even noticed,— my slightly protruding belly, a subtle change that had slipped under my own radar as I just thought I had put on weight from the feasts Luffy makes Sanji make for us, “I think you’re gonna have a baby!” His exclamation echoes across the deck, his unfiltered joy a testament to his unique perspective on life. 

The crew halts, their expressions ranging from astonishment to joyous disbelief. I stand frozen, stunned by Luffy’s innocent declaration, a revelation that I had yet to fathom. In the moment that follows Luffy’s proclamation, a bewildering realisation sweeps over me. His words—“you’re gonna have a baby”—linger in the air, and as the crew's astonished gazes shift between us, it finally dawns on Luffy that he's not just declaring my news; he's announcing his own impending fatherhood. 

His wide eyes widen further, mirroring the astonishment painted across the faces of our crewmates. And then, in a flash of comprehension, a radiant grin spreads across Luffy's face, an uncontainable joy that sparks a cascade of laughter. "Wait, wait, wait! We're having a baby?!" His voice rings out, his expression a mix of disbelief and unadulterated happiness. 

Without another thought, Luffy bounds over to me, his infectious laughter filling the air. He scoops me up in his arms, spinning us both around in a whirlwind of uncontainable joy. Laughter erupts from him, a symphony of excitement and wonder as he revels in the revelation. "We're having a baby!" His exclamation echoes across the deck, a declaration that marks the beginning of a new, unforeseen chapter in our adventures. 

The crew, initially stunned by Luffy's proclamation, now erupts into cheers and congratulatory exclamations, their astonishment giving way to celebration. Amidst the whirlwind of laughter and cheers, Luffy's sheer delight becomes infectious, melting away any lingering shock. And as he continues to spin us both around, his joy becomes mine, intertwining our destinies in this unexpected, thrilling journey toward parenthood.

Y/N's POV

The sun hangs low in the sky, casting a warm golden hue over the Thousand Sunny. It's a peaceful afternoon, the gentle sway of the ship lulling me into a sense of tranquility amid our bustling adventures. Zoro, the swordsman of unwavering determination, has always possessed an uncanny ability to notice the subtlest of changes. Today, however, would mark the day he’d discern a change within me that I hadn't yet comprehended.

I find myself sitting at the ship's bow, the soothing melody of the waves a comforting companion as I stare out into the horizon. The day had started like any other, yet a lingering unease gnaws at the edges of my thoughts, a sense of unfamiliarity that dances just beyond reach.

Zoro’s presence, like a shadow eternally by my side, draws closer. He settles nearby, his stoic gaze fixed on the horizon. "Something on your mind?" His voice, gruff yet tinged with a subtle concern, pierces the calm.

I shake my head, trying to dismiss the disquiet that has nestled itself within me. "Just thinking," I reply with a forced smile, hoping to brush off the weight of my contemplation.

But Zoro, with his unwavering perceptiveness, doesn’t seem convinced. He turns slightly towards me, his gaze assessing, as if trying to decipher the unspoken layers of my thoughts. His eyes, a testament to his keen observation, seem to search for answers that even I'm not yet ready to acknowledge.

As the day stretches into twilight, I notice Zoro's observations becoming more pronounced. He notices the slightest changes—a subtle fatigue in my stance during practice, a hesitancy in my movements that betray a newfound caution.

"Training not going as planned?" he asks casually, a hint of curiosity laced in his words.

I chuckle softly, attempting to mask the undercurrent of uncertainty. "Just feeling a bit off today, I guess."

Under the tangerine hues of the evening sky, Zoro’s scrutiny becomes more palpable. Each swing of my practice sword seems to carry an unusual weight, my movements betraying a faltering rhythm I can't seem to shake. Zoro, a steadfast presence beside me, doesn’t miss a beat. His intense focus during our training sessions amplifies, his watchful gaze tracking every subtle shift in my stance, every hesitancy that sneaks into my strikes.

“Having trouble finding your footing?” His question, tossed casually into the air, holds a knowing undertone that catches me off guard. I offer a fleeting smile, a feeble attempt to cloak the turmoil brewing beneath the surface but I wave off his concerns. 

But Zoro, with his uncanny ability to read between the lines, doesn’t let the matter slide. His observant nature persists, his inquiries wrapped in the guise of casual conversation, yet laden with an unwavering determination to unravel the mystery veiled within my uncharacteristic unease. As the sun begins its descent, casting shadows that dance across the ship’s deck, Zoro’s gaze lingers, a silent sentinel amidst the encroaching dusk. His dedication to noticing the subtleties, the nuances that escape ordinary observation, serves as an unspoken reassurance in the face of my growing uncertainty.

The day had settled into a tranquil calmness, the colours of the sky merging into a breathtaking canvas of oranges and purples as the sun dipped toward the horizon. Zoro's concern had become a constant companion, a silent understanding that had evolved beyond mere words.

"Feeling better?" He asks one day, his voice holding a touch of solemnity that catches me off guard.

I hesitate, feeling the weight of his gaze. "Not quite myself, to be honest," I admit reluctantly, feeling a sense of relief in sharing even a fraction of my uncertainty.

Zoro’s expression softens imperceptibly, a rare gesture from the stoic swordsman. "If something's on your mind, you know you can talk about it, right?" His words, though simple, carry an unspoken promise of support. 

I lean into his touch, finding an unexpected solace in his gesture. Resting my head on his sturdy shoulder, we both gaze out at the horizon, where the sun casts its final golden rays over the endless expanse of water.The tranquility of the moment envelops us, a sanctuary within the tumultuous uncertainty. Words become unnecessary as the serenity of the scene seems to bridge the unspoken gap between us. The weight of my worries feels a little lighter, shared in the unspoken language of companionship and understanding.

“I think I’m pregnant.” I mumble and Zoro's hand, which had been gently clasping mine, tightens slightly at my confession. His gaze, usually steady and composed, flickers with a blend of surprise and an emotion I can't quite place. For a fleeting moment, the tranquility of our shared moment is replaced by a charged energy—an anticipation that crackles between us. His grip on my hand relaxes, only to shift purposefully, cupping my chin with a tenderness that catches me off guard. His eyes, a storm of emotions, meet mine, and without a word, he pulls me closer, closing the distance between us with a possessive intensity.

In that instant, our lips meet in a fervent kiss, a silent affirmation of the unspoken dreams that had nestled in the depths of our shared future. His kiss is filled with a passionate reassurance, a promise of unwavering support and a newfound sense of purpose that we hadn't realised we were seeking. 

As the golden hues of the setting sun paint the sky with their final strokes, our connection feels more profound than ever, transcending the unspoken barriers that once stood between us. The weight of my revelation seems to dissipate in the warmth of his embrace, replaced by an overwhelming sense of unity and anticipation for the journey ahead. 

When our lips finally part, the tranquility of the moment returns, albeit tinged with an exhilarating sense of possibility. Zoro’s eyes, though still reflecting surprise, hold an unwavering determination—a silent vow that together, we will embrace this new chapter, our shared future now intertwined with the unexpected joy of impending parenthood.

Y/N's POV

The Red Force sails calmly across the cast expanse of the sea, the ship’s sturdy frame cutting through the gentle waves with a reassuring rhythm. Shanks, the legendary and enigmatic pirate, is as astute as he is charismatic. Little did I know, he would be the first to sense the subtle shifts within me that heralded a new chapter in our lives. 

It begins with small gestures—a keen observation and a caring intervention—undetectable threats woven into the fabric of our daily interactions. Shanks, with his affable demeanour and keen intuition, notices the nuances I hadn’t yet recognised within myself. 

One tranquil evening aboard the ship, I reach for a glass of wine, eager to unwind after a day of adventure. Shanks, however, intercepts the bottle before I can take a sip from it, “Not tonight.” He murmurs with a gentle smile, his gaze filled with a knowing reassurance. 

Confusion clouds my features for a fleeting moment, but Shanks’ unwavering resolve speaks volumes. He offers no explanation, but his subtle gesture carries an unspoken wisdom that halts me in my tracks. A realisation flickers within me—an inkling that there might be more to Shanks’ intervention than meets the eye. 

As my hand instinctively reaches for the bottle once more, Shanks, with a graceful and deliberate motion, holds it just out of my grasp. His other arm, strong and reassuring, encircles my waist, drawing me closer until I’m pressed against him, our closeness enveloped by the gentle sway of the ship. Before I can voice my confusion or protest, Shanks silences any questions with a tender yet fervent kiss. His lips, a whisper against mine, convey a message that words couldn’t encapsulate—an unspoken reassurance, a depth of understanding that transcends any explanation.

Caught off guard by the unexpected intimacy of the moment, my initial confusion dissipates in the warmth of his embrace. There’s an inexplicable comfort in the way he holds me, in the way his lips mold against mine, as if he’s communicating a profound truth without uttering a single word. In that fleeting moment, amidst the whispers of the ocean breeze and the lull of the ship, I sense the depth of Shanks’ concern—a concern that goes beyond a simple denial of wine. His actions, though unconventional, carry an unspoken promise of protection, a silent vow to shield me from something I hadn’t yet comprehended.

As the tender moment lingers, Shanks whispers against my skin, his warm breath sending a shiver down my spine. "Be a good girl and stick to water tonight," he murmurs, his voice laced with a mixture of playfulness and genuine concern. His words carry a cryptic weight, an allusion to something I've yet to fathom. His nose nuzzles against the curve of my neck, a gesture that feels both protective and intimate. "Don't want to hurt our prodigy," he adds, his tone hinting at a revelation that eludes my understanding.

Confusion and curiosity dance within me as Shanks kisses my jaw once more before releasing me. He walks away, the bottle of wine in hand, leaving me to decipher the enigmatic puzzle he has laid out. His cryptic words linger in the air, stirring a flurry of thoughts and emotions. "Hurt our prodigy?" I mull over the phrase, trying to unravel its meaning amidst the waves of uncertainty that crash within me.

The realisation dawns gradually—a glimmer of understanding emerging from the depths of my contemplation. Shanks’ words, though veiled in ambiguity, carry a hidden truth—a truth that I'm hesitant to acknowledge but can't dismiss. Could it be? The notion takes root tentatively within my thoughts, an unspoken realisation that I might be carrying something precious, something that Shanks, with his astute intuition, has sensed long before I even considered the possibility. 

In a whirlwind of emotions and burgeoning realisations, I sprint to Shanks’ private quarters aboard the ship. The air crackles with a blend of uncertainty and a burgeoning anticipation that propels me forward. Racing through the door, I almost tear my shirt off, desperation guiding my movements as I position myself before the mirror.

 With an anxious breath, I angle myself sideways, my eyes searching for the slightest hint of change. There it is—a subtle curve, a gentle swell that hadn’t been there before. My hand hesitantly hovers over my stomach, tracing the faint outline, a tangible proof of the truth that begins to solidify in my mind. 

Before I can fully grasp the enormity of the revelation, strong and familiar arms envelop me from behind, gently covering my hands that rest upon my stomach. Shanks, with a silent understanding that transcends words, rests his chin on my shoulder, a comforting presence in this whirlwind of emotions. Tears blur my vision, a mixture of disbelief and an overwhelming rush of emotions cascading through me. Shanks' quiet embrace, his unspoken support, serves as a grounding force amidst the storm of thoughts racing through my mind.

In the mirrored reflection, I glance at Shanks, my voice laden with uncertainty, "You're not upset?" His frown, reflected in the glass, catches me off guard, stirring a fresh wave of apprehension within me.

Shanks gently turns me around to face him, his expression softening into a gentle smile. "Upset? Y/N, I've never been more thrilled," he confesses, his voice a steady reassurance that eases the knot of worry in my chest. "I've wanted this with you, with all my heart.” His words, laden with sincerity and unwavering affection, wash over me like a soothing balm. In that tender moment, surrounded by the depth of his love and his longing for a future we hadn't anticipated, the flood of emotions begins to settle.

As I process his heartfelt confession, Shanks’ demeanour takes on a mischievous glint. "Now, why don’t you get undressed?" he suggests, his voice a playful tease, though his eyes burn with an intensity that stirs a different kind of heat within me. 

Surprised by the sudden shift in tone, my cheeks flush crimson. "Shanks, I..." I stammer, momentarily taken aback by his unexpected boldness but then again it was Shanks. But before I can protest further, his lips capture mine in a fervent kiss, a passionate affirmation of his desire and unwavering affection. His hands trail down my sides, urging me gently to comply with his playful suggestion. 

In that moment, amidst the emotions and revelations, a sense of exhilaration surges through me—a shared understanding that despite the unexpected turn of events, our love and passion for each other remain as fiery and unyielding as ever. And as we lose ourselves in the passionate embrace, the uncertainties and worries of impending parenthood momentarily fade into the background, replaced by an intense and intimate connection that binds us together in this newfound chapter of our lives.

Y/N's POV

The Thousand Sunny basks in the warm sunlight as a peaceful day unfolds on the seas. The tranquility is interrupted by the unexpected arrival of Dracule Mihawk, the enigmatic and formidable swordsman. His presence aboard our ship sends a ripple of curiosity among the crew, but for me, it's a moment of both surprise and delight. 

I rush to meet him as he steps aboard the ship, his sharp gaze meeting mine with an inscrutable intensity. His usual stoic demeanour remains unchanged, but a subtle warmth flickers in his eyes as he greets me with a restrained nod. 

“Mihawk.” I breathe, a mix of excitement and curiosity lacing my voice, “What brings you here?” 

He inclines his head slightly, his tone softening imperceptibly, “I wished to see you, nothing more.” As he speaks, I feel a pang of discomfort building within me—a sudden wave of nausea that threatens to overwhelm me. I try to hide it, but Mihawk's perceptive nature doesn't let it slip by unnoticed. His brow furrows ever so slightly, a minute indication of concern. "Are you feeling unwell?" he inquires, his voice carrying an uncharacteristic gentleness.

I attempt to shrug it off, summoning a weak smile. "Just a passing thing, nothing to worry about.” But Mihawk, with his keen observation skills, remains unconvinced. His scrutiny intensifies as he observes me closely, a silent but unmistakable display of attentiveness. As the discomfort escalates, I find myself rushing to the ship's railing, a sudden urge to empty my stomach. The violent bout of vomiting catches both Mihawk and me off guard. 

Concern etches itself onto Mihawk's otherwise impassive features as he moves closer, his hand resting lightly on my back. "This doesn’t seem like 'nothing,'" he observes, his voice tinged with a hint of worry. 

I try to downplay it, despite the relentless churning in my stomach. "Just a bug, probably," I manage between strained breaths, attempting to mask the unease bubbling within me.

But Mihawk, with his unyielding intuition, sees through the facade. "It's more than that," he asserts, his gaze penetrating, seeking answers I'm not yet prepared to acknowledge. The silence between us is charged with unspoken questions, an undercurrent of concern that we both struggle to articulate. Despite my attempts to evade the truth, Mihawk's perceptive nature latches onto the possibility that eludes my own awareness. "Have you noticed any other changes?" His inquiry is gentle but direct, his unwavering gaze locking onto mine. 

I hesitate, grappling with the enormity of what his question implies. "I... I'm not sure," I falter, the weight of his question sinking in. 

Mihawk nods thoughtfully, his expression unreadable yet filled with a palpable sense of understanding. "Let's find out," he suggests, guiding me to a quiet corner of the ship where we can speak privately. The rest of the crew disappearing back downstairs to give us privacy as they can gage the seriousness of the conversation Mihawk and I need to have. 

He sits on the bench and I go to join him, sitting next to him, but in one smooth move he pulls me onto his lap with a surprising ease. His arms wrap securely around my waist, ensuring I’m steady against the rhythmic movements of the vessel. His touch, though firm, carries a comforting assurance, ground me amidst the uncertainty that hangs in the air. 

In the cocoon of his embrace, I feel a rush of emotions—vulnerability, anticipation, and a glimmer of hope intertwined. Mihawk’s presence, his unspoken support, is a reassuring beacon of amidst the tempest feelings swirling within me. He leans in closer, his voice a soft murmur against my ear, “We’ll figure this out.” His words, through simple, carry a weight of determination and a promise of solidarity that resonates deep within me. 

With a steadying breath, I meet his gaze, finding an unexpected solace in the depths of his eyes. The unspoken understanding between us weaves an invisible bond, strengthening our resolve to face the unknown together. As the ship rocks gently with the ocean's sway, our private conversation unfolds—a candid exchange filled with a raw honesty that transcends words. Mihawk listens attentively, his silence a canvas for the emotions and uncertainties I pour out.

“I’ve missed my period Mi,” I tell him softly and Mihawk's demeanour remains composed, yet a subtle shift in his expression betrays a momentary pause, almost imperceptible to the untrained eye. His touch, tender and deliberate as he brushes a strand of hair away from my eyes, betrays the depth of his emotions, concealed beneath his stoic facade. 

The weight of my revelation hangs between us, a pregnant silence punctuated only by the soft sounds of the ship slicing through the gentle waves. Mihawk’s eyes, usually enigmatic and inscrutable, now reflect a spectrum of emotions—concern, contemplation, and a hint of something deeper that I struggle to decipher. He exhales slowly, his gaze never leaving mine, the depths of his eyes a kaleidoscope of emotions. "I see," he responds softly, his voice steady but laced with an underlying current of consideration. 

As the words linger in the air, a wave of apprehension washes over me, uncertain of how he'll receive this unforeseen revelation. But Mihawk, with his characteristic composure, offers a calm reassurance, a quiet strength that anchors me amidst the tempest of emotions.

“Mi?” I ask quietly, shakily playing with the tufts of hair at the back of his head, twirling them through my fingers and avoiding his gaze as he’s a warlord of the sea, he’s not going to want a child, let alone a child with me. 

Mihawk’s hand, strong yet surprisingly gentle, intercepts mine, halting the nervous twirling of his hair. His touch redirects my attention, guiding my trembling fingers away from their anxious fidgeting. With deliberate intent, he lifts my chin, urging me to meet his gaze, his eyes unwavering as they lock onto mine, "Stop those thoughts," he commands, his voice firm but not harsh, resonating with an unspoken intensity. It's as if he can perceive the tumultuous whirlwind of doubts raging within me, and with his unwavering gaze, he attempts to quell the storm of insecurities that threaten to engulf me.

Before I can offer any protest, any further apprehensive whispers, his lips claim mine in a kiss that silences the racing thoughts in my mind. It's a kiss filled with a passion that defies the uncertainties, a kiss that speaks volumes of his unwavering affection and a desire to shield me from my own fears. As our lips meld in a fervent embrace, Mihawk's kiss becomes a testament to his commitment, a reassurance that transcends spoken words. In that moment, amid the tangle of emotions and swirling doubts, his lips become a lifeline, a beacon of certainty in the tumultuous sea of uncertainties.

The kiss lingers, a bridge between our unspoken fears and the unyielding depth of our connection. Mihawk's touch, his fervent kiss, convey a silent promise—a promise that echoes in the depths of my being, a promise that together, we will weather whatever storms lie ahead. As the kiss concludes, a serene tranquility settles within me, a newfound sense of assurance born from Mihawk's unwavering declaration through that intimate gesture. In the quiet aftermath, his gaze holds an unspoken understanding, a mutual acknowledgment that in each other's embrace, we'll find the strength to face the unforeseen challenges ahead. 

After the kiss, a soft yet resolute glint flickers in Mihawk's eyes as he gazes at me. His hand cups my cheek tenderly, his touch conveying a depth of emotion that words struggle to articulate. 

"Y/N," he begins, his voice a steady reassurance, "I want this. I want this child with you." His words, though measured, carry a weight of sincerity that resonates deeply within me, "You're not alone in this," he continues, his tone unwavering. "Whatever lies ahead, we'll face it together. I'm here, and I'm staying.”

The earnestness in his declaration pierces through my uncertainties, weaving a tapestry of assurance and commitment. His unwavering support, a promise anchored in his eyes and echoed in his words, becomes a beacon of hope amidst the labyrinth of doubts, "We'll navigate this, step by step," he assures, his voice a steadfast anchor in the tumultuous sea of uncertainties. "I'm with you every step of the way.” 

In that poignant moment, Mihawk's unwavering commitment and steadfast reassurance carve a path forward—a path illuminated by the warmth of his unwavering support and our shared determination to embrace the unexpected journey that lies ahead.

One Piece Masterlist TAG LIST - updated 21st Dec 2023

[koenigami]

COLD HANDS, WARM HEART.

wriothesley x fem!reader summary : spending your night far away from everything and everyone with your lover in a cabin on a cold night, you finally uttered your deepest wish to him. wc : 3k tags : +18, smut, fluff, established relationship, talks about children, marking, fingering, unprotected sex, creampie, wrio about to unleash his breeding kink

The fire casted shadows along the walls as it danced in the fireplace, the warmth and crackling of burning wood creating a cosy ambience that could have made you fall asleep right then and there on the floor. Cold winters in Fontaine weren’t unusual yet you could not remember the last time you had seen thick layers of snow like the ones that currently covered the meadows and mountains of your homeland like large fluffy clouds. 

A cold breeze rushed inside the little wooden cabin and made you shiver when Wriothesley slipped inside, nudging the door shut with his foot while carrying piled up pieces of wood in his arms. You smiled at the sight of his reddened nose and cheeks, flakes of snow sprinkled all over his hair and slowly melting away, leaving back a trace of slightly damp curls. 

“Hope this will be enough for the night.” He sighed, neatly stacking the wood in the little basket beside the fireplace before he joined you on the woven carpet. “Good thing you stayed inside. It’s so damn cold.” 

“‘Course, otherwise I would have turned into an icicle.” You smirked, remembering how Wriothesley earlier had threatened to tie you to the bed because you had begged him to let you accompany him outside to get the wood. Apparently, wanting to watch your handsome boyfriend use his astonishing strength to chop wood had been too much to ask for. However, the shriek that you let out when his bare hands touched your neck was proof enough that staying inside had not been such a bad idea. 

“Shared sorrow is half the sorrow.” You grabbed his wrists, liberating yourself from the frosty feeling on your skin, and instead tried to gently envelop his hands in your smaller and especially warmer ones. Wriothesley studied you with curious eyes as your thumbs traced tender circles along the back of his hands while warming them up with your warm breath. 

“You don’t need to do that.” Your movements halted, and you looked up at him befuddled. He went out by himself in that freezing cold, the least you could do was make sure that he was warm and- “Share my sorrows.”

Bearing others burdens on his own shoulders was a piece of cake for Wriothesley, because somehow he always managed to take care of them very easily. Yet the melancholic smile that he would shoot you every time you stated the desire to help him was a clear sign of a deeply rooted self-destructive habit. And despite knowing that it was only a way to keep you away from any further unnecessary trouble, in some situations it felt more like a brick wall that he cemented between the both of you. 

“You’re right.” You stated matter-of-factly, leaning over to ruffle his hair and ridding him of the residue snowflakes. “But I want to. And the next time you threaten to tie me to a piece of furniture, I’ll simply handcuff you to the bed.” 

“Threatening me with a good time, huh? Sweetheart, you should really work on your bargaining strategies.” His smug smirk turned into a lighthearted chuckle when he saw you scoff and turn your head away from him in annoyance. Though your body did not resist even an ounce when one of his arms encircled your waist and pulled you closer against him into a tight embrace. You instinctively snuggled into his side, the knitted pullover that he was wearing making him look tamer and more cuddlesome than his usual dress shirt and tie.  

Coming here was a good idea. Far away from Wriothesley’s duties as well as your own work, no court cases or due dates for your reports; you were grateful for some uninterrupted shared time with him even if only for a few days. It’s what you both were in need of. Especially since there were matters that had somehow been lingering on your mind and soul for a while now-

Soft tender touches were shared as the snowfall outside the window slowly started to get heavier. His hands along your hips and waist, sliding underneath your pullover to caress and feel the heat of your skin, your lips on his jaw and cheeks, feeling the light stubble on his face. Slow and teasing movements that made your skin tingle and heart do somersaults, the awareness of how happy this man’s presence was making you, bringing a genuine smile to your lips. 

“Want me to make some tea?” You eventually asked when you detached yourselves from each other for a moment. Tilting your head slightly, you looked at him. The fire casted an orangish light over the side of his face, the flame reflecting and swirling in the deep blue of his eyes and risking hypnotising you if you wouldn’t stop staring right into them.

“Nah, maybe later.” 

“Did you just deny an offer of tea? Are you sick?” You giggled and watched his own lips form into a wolfish grin. In the blink of an eye, you were tackled and pinned to the carpet while Wriothesley’s body now loomed over yours and caged you between his arms. “I see so now it’s sex over tea?”

With nothing but the fire illuminating the cosy bedroom, you looked so ethereal. Your hair was sprawled around your head like a halo, and your skin felt so soft and warm as he glided his fingertips along your cheek and further down to your neck where he started littering light fleeting kisses. “Of course not, my love. It’s you over tea.” He spoke between each kiss. “You over everything.” 

A gasp escaped you when the sweet kisses turned into teasing bites, heat already pooling between your legs at the way he sucked on your skin, finishing his markings with light traces of his tongue. Your legs instinctively spread, letting him slot himself between them as he kept assaulting your neck, tasting you, inhaling you in such a fervent way that he made it seem like you have been separated from each other for months. And in some kind of way, it truly felt so. One tiring day after another had led to the both of you being so exhausted and depleted of energy that your shared bed had solely served as a way to recharge your batteries before the next same draining day would arrive with the same taxing work and tasks to be completed. 

His breath hitched when your hands slid into his hair, and with the tight grip you had on his strands, you noticed him lower his body, his hips grinding against yours and letting you feel the prominent growing bulge in his pants. 

“Mr. Wriothesley.” You suppressed a wince once you noticed that your attempted comment did not sound as teasing as you had hoped it would when you were so out of breath and desperate for him. “Don’t tell me we’re about to have sex on the floor when there’s a king size bed right next to us.” 

“Oh, shut up.” Blindly reaching to his side, Wriothesley tore the soft blanket off the bed, the both of you spreading it properly before you hurriedly settled on top of it. “There, better now?”

Though in all honesty, you could not care less about whether the ground beneath you was cushioned or not, whether you did it on the floor or in a thousands of mora expensive bed, as long as it was him that your hands got to touch, as long as it was him that got under your skin and never let go of you. His patience was slowly crumbling to the ground and disappearing into nothingness as much as yours was. His touches became more eager, with rough hands groping your chest, and lips nearly devouring you, licking into your mouth and sucking on your tongue- It was so easy for him to make a mess out of you. 

The fabric of your jumper was soon bunched up, and your bra pulled further down to let the fat of your tits spill out of it. The warmth of his lips wrapped around your nipples as he started sucking on one while his thumb and forefinger played with the other, the corners of his mouth turning upwards when he noticed you arching your back. “Fuck, missed these tits so much.” He rasped, drunk on your body and the way it felt beneath his hands. His tongue slid around your areolas, sucking and biting at the plump flesh of your breasts until they glistened with his saliva. 

Once you two finally pulled back to completely rid yourselves of the clothes and fabrics that created a barrier between you, you were almost astonished at the light shake in your hands and breath, adrenaline and hormones having riled you up like a desperate teenager. Breathless chuckles and giggles echoed through the dimly lit room while you hopelessly struggled to undo buttons here, unclasp a bra there, and unzip and tear off legs of pants. Wriothesley hissed in pain when you harshly tugged the thick woollen pullover over his head, his helix getting caught in the fabric before you yanked it off him a little too harshly.

“Eager, aren’t we?” He spoke nonchalantly, rubbing over the apex of his ears to soothe the sting, and settled back between your legs which you deliberately wrapped around his waist. Digging your heels into his lower back, you pulled him almost impossibly closer as if any space left between your bodies would physically hurt you. With a hushed sorry, you trailed your mouth along the shell of his pierced ear, hearing and feeling his laboured exhales brush across your face when the pads of his fingers finally stroked along your already soaked folds. He played with you. Smearing your arousal over your clit, the circles he drew on the erected little bud made you let out the sweetest noises, his cock twitching in anticipation while he could barely wait any longer to hear you moan once he was inside you. 

Wriothesley carefully drove his thick middle finger inside you, so painfully slow that you keened needily, tightly gripping the blanket underneath you in your clenched fists, knuckles white. Though his exterior seemed far more composed than you were, the hard cock that you caught a glimpse of as it hung heavily between his legs with the irritated and glistening tip, the weight of it brushing against your thigh; your pussy unconsciously clenched around nothing, the empty and aching feeling inside you only getting stronger.

“Oh my god-” You nodded mindlessly with your eyes rolling to the back of your head, pouty lips slightly open in a silent moan when he finally added a second finger, filling you further up. Though you were far away from satisfied, and at the way your fluttering and pulsing walls gripped his fingers he too could tell that you needed more. The indecent squelching sound of his palm slapping against your wet pussy with each thrust was so loud, he couldn’t help but groan knowing that you were in such a desperate need for him, that you needed him to fill you up to the brim and satisfy you over and over again. 

“Let me see that pretty tongue.” You felt something in your stomach flutter at the sight of his satisfied smile once you obediently stretched your tongue out, letting him brush his soaked fingers on the pink muscle before dipping them into your mouth. With swirling movements, you made sure to lick them clean, the light suction of your lips making his breath hitch undeniably as he relished the sight in front of him, your pretty doe eyes glistening with moisture as the flame of the fire flickered inside them. “My gorgeous girl, always so good for me.” 

“Wriothesley.” You croaked when he retracted his hand, a dribble of saliva running down the side of your mouth while the taste of your own arousal still lingered on your tongue. As you reached down between your bodies to take his cock in your palm, brushing it along your folds to cover him in your juices, you involuntarily sunk your teeth into your lip, gnawing at the raw kissed flesh. No matter how many times you took him, he always made sure you were nice and ready for him, wanting to make this as pleasurable for you as possible. Yet something about the brief burn when your walls stretched around him, the way it sent shivers down your spine and made your toes curl until your body accommodated to his size; you could never get enough of it. “Just fuck me already.” 

“Alright, alright. Don’t hurt yourself.” His chest vibrated with a deep airy chuckle when he witnessed your eagerness, his big hand taking a hold of yours to place it beside your head, fingers weaving through yours and giving it a tight squeeze when his free hand guided his leaking tip to your entrance. “Going to fuck my darling real’ good, yeah?” 

“Yeah, oh-” The warm mushroom tip entered you, as Wriothesley slowly started fucking himself deeper into you. Inch after inch, he sank deeper, stretching you further before pulling back out, and leaving you a whimpering mess. The hand he had placed on top of your stomach to keep you in place, involuntarily grounded you and you wondered whether he could feel himself in your guts. Because with each thrust that he sank deeper into your dripping wet hole, you swore you could feel him in your throat. “Baby-” 

“I know, I know.” He breathed heavily against your ear when he eventually buried himself to the hilt, his balls flush against your skin, and tight walls gripping him like a vice, constantly clenching and unclenching. “Taking me so well. Always so… fuck-” 

Wriothesley’s voice died down when he felt you fuck yourself against him as if you were in heat, moaning and gasping every time you lifted your hips off the floor. Your legs were shaking by the time he moved his hand to your sex, thumb quickly brushing back and forth over your clit and making you topper over the edge. Your entire body turned rigid when you came, the intensity of your orgasm would have scared you if it weren’t for Wriothesley’s roaming hands, caressing and reassuring you. You had not even realised the tears running down your temples until he kissed them away, letting you taste the salty liquid when he slotted his lips against yours. “That’s it, I’ve got you, love. Ha, squeezing me so fucking tight.” He mumbled against your mouth. “Don’t think I’ll last much longer like this.” 

“Then don’t.” Regaining some control over your body, you were finally able to speak up though with a hoarse voice, and weak legs which you desperately tried to wrap back around his waist. Clasping his neck with your arms and holding onto him as if he was your life line, you moved your hips against his with a frail push, wanting to spur him on. “Wanna see you cum too. Want you to fill me up.”

“W-what?” His own thrusts stuttered when he caught your last sentence, letting your words sink in like honey on a burning wound. 

“Want you to cum inside me.” By the expression on his face and slowed movements, you could clearly tell that Wriothesley probably thought that your words were stemming from a spur-of-the-moment decision. Brain fried by pleasure and oxytocin, all words that left your mouth should be taken by a grain of salt, though right now in this moment, there was not a single thing that you were more sure of than the thought and wish that had been occupying your mind for weeks. A small being incorporating the love that you and Wriothesley held for each other. Crawling and toddling around your house, filling it with sweet laughter and cries, while looking just like him. His eyes, his nose, his kind heart.. “Y/n, we can’t just-”

“Been meaning to tell you this for a while now.” The pads of your fingers brushed against his flushed cheeks as you cupped his face in the softness of your palms. His deep blue eyes had taken on a darker shade, staring right into your soul, and you swore that if there was a way to drown into that ocean of blue, you would do it instantly. “Wriothesley, I love you so much. I-I can’t imagine a life without you.” 

Another stream of tears followed that made his eyebrows furrow before he gently wiped them away. Of course he had already had similar thoughts. How could he not when you were everything he had ever wanted in his life. Images of a little girl with the same sweet smile as yours, same hair, same attitude-

“Wanna give you a baby.” 

“Are you sure about that?” His gaze zeroed in on you, looking for something, just anything that could tell him that you were not being serious, that all of this was nothing but an awful joke, some terrible dirty talk. Though all he could find while gazing into your eyes was nothing but pure love and warmth as you nodded at him. Warmth that seeped into the deepest parts of his body, spreading and filling his heart to the brim with affection for a woman he would always be ready to do anything for. “Sweetheart, you’re-” 

You choked with wide blown eyes when his hips all of a sudden snapped against yours, his cock diving into your deepest parts and about to make you fall apart again. “You’re going to be the death of me, ya know that?” His voice quivered the slightest bit as he buried his face in your neck, and with his chest flush against yours, you could feel the rapid beat of his heart as it pounded only for you. 

The fire had dimmed by now, the dark red flame covered by ash and residue parts of scorched wood fighting for its last ounce of oxygen, while the heavy snowfall outside had calmed. However, when you let your nails scrape down Wriothesley’s back, leaving red marks beside the already residing scars along his skin, while his body eventually tensed up, fingers digging into the fat of your hips and cock pulsing, coating the walls of your insides in white- You knew that your night had barely even started yet. 

“Shit- Can’t wait to see you all round and swollen with my kid inside you, darling.”

[houpss]

SKZ have a crush on you

you can come up with the ending yourself...whether the reader will be with the member or not is up to you!

light angst, a little fluff, uncertain relationship

Bang Chan

oh...this man talks about his feelings openly and without fear.

He literally phrases: "I'll steal and fuck your girlfriend while you're not looking."

He has a huge amount of female and male attention, but...

But it doesn't work out that way with you...

You were out of his reach.

You were too beautiful, too sweet, too good...he wasn't like that.

Chris is the one who will call you his muse and write romantic songs for you, some of which have been published.

His love is manifested in acts of care, he is always there, he is more tactile with you than with others.

He will give you whatever you want, just ask.

Chan has 8 members so he is like a dad...he protects and cares for them

And he also wants to take care of you.

He wants to love you openly.

But you didn’t notice his feelings.

Although...you loved Chris. Literally loved to the moon and back.

For some reason, it seemed to you that Chris only saw you as a friend or family member, just like his Members.

Yeah...close friends....

He will say exactly the same phrase to you:

"You came..."–"You called"

It seems you are both fools.

Maybe he's too soft with you? Maybe he needs to leave?

He won't be able to give up on you.

I will kill myself, I will destroy my soul, but I will be with you.

But i'll wait for you

I love you to the moon and back

기다려 여기 me and max

서운해해도 don't be mad

너한텐 할 수 없는 game (Bloo-But i'll wait for you)

Lee Know

How could Minho let this happen?

Lee Minho was head over heels in love with you.

No one has seen his loving eyes, no one has ever felt his gentle touch.

How did he allow himself to fall in love with you?

This is a completely crazy idea, he didn’t love to love.

But you turn his world upside down, he is literally lost in you.

You clearly feel like Minho hates you.

Minho is like cold winter, he is like snowy weather, he looks like frosty weather.

And you were in summer, you're complete opposites.

But even after the coldest winter, love comes.

He calls you the most beautiful adjectives, it’s like he’s trying to silently scream about his feelings.

He speaks directly and harshly, he loves the truth straight forward.

"And you will be obsessed with me, I will be everywhere: I will be in your favorite songs, I will be between the lines of books, I will be in every passerby... I am your addiction"

Lee Minho couldn't fall in love, but he wanted to love.

All the pretty stars shine for you, my love

Am I the girl that you dream of? (Lana Del Rey–Pretty when you cry)

Seo Changbin

He loved and hated you at the same time.

Oh.. Seo Changbin can hate?

Yes, he did it with you. He loved you so much that he hated you for it.

You were everywhere, you were ingrained in his existence and mind.

He was very sweet and friendly and loved people.

It didn’t work out that way with you, it was as if he deliberately didn’t want to have much contact with you.

He loved you silently, probably without asking for anything in return.

Before he even notices, he begins to pay attention to you... be it small acts of attention or dialogues with you.

"You can take Changbin out of first love, but not first love out of Changbin."

Again, it was like you were different, you weren’t like anyone else. He noticed you immediately when he met you.

He seems upset that you will never be his.

Oh...the boy is gloomy. The boy looks like a thunderstorm.

Conquer your lonely heart, get used to the emptiness.

When you ran your fingers over your lips

I bought it from glossy magazines

Everything you asked for and even what you didn’t ask for

How can you be so terribly beautiful? (Rocky-WITCH)

Hwang Hyunjin

Oh yes, you and Hyunjin have been friends since childhood.

It even got to the point that you are idols in the same agency. No wonder Hyunjin adores you, he's obsessed.

Fans loved your interactions, they were sure there was something between you and Hyunjin.

Hyunjin wants to get into your soul, he wants to take your heart into his cold hands.

You were the forbidden fruit, and forbidden fruit is always sweet.

It’s as if you’re chasing him, you’re everywhere, he feels you everywhere.

But you're just his friend, his sweet best friend.

It was normal for you to peck Hyunjin on the lips, naturally in private or during greetings (while no one was looking). Hyunjin feels addicted.

You are worse than drugs, you cause an addictive effect. You are his absolute delight.

The boy will paint your portraits, he will exalt you like a goddess.

So why do you only see him as a friend?

Hwang Hyunjin doesn't deserve to be your friend, he wants to be your boyfriend.

The boy loves to hurt himself, he loves hardcore. He loves pain and whines a lot.

He just replaces you with pain, it helps.

Touch me, yeah

I want you to touch me there

Make me feel like I am breathing

Feel like I am human (The neighbourhood–A little death)

Han Jisung

You never paid attention to Jisung.

But Jisung was so loud and cheerful that he started to annoy you.

Jisung did this on purpose, he liked you.

The boy will notice you immediately, you immediately fell into his soul. So cold and inaccessible.

He wants to melt the ice on your heart, he wants to become your sun.

Every day he fell more in love with you, the cold intensifying his desire.

“Your love is addictive” – your words

He is very kind and cheerful with you, he is so easy to talk to.

He won't give up to get you. Even when you send him the rudest obscenities

I'm your boy.

He will sing to you, and you will ask him to shut up. You secretly love it, his voice is so beautiful.

But you should hate Han Jisung because it's the right thing to do.

You would get closer to him, but...

No.

"Is it fashionable to jerk off to him?"

"hit of the season"

Lee Felix

It was impossible not to fall in love with Felix.

everyone loves Felix!

And he loves you.

This sunny boy literally drowned in his love for you, it completely absorbed him and did not allow other feelings to pass through.

But you don't seem to notice him.

Felix dreamed about you, you are in his thoughts. The first thought in the morning, a relieving thought when he is busy and the last thought before going to bed.

He's trying to get as close to you as possible

He will become your best friend.

Felix is too good, he is an angel in a human body.

The world is not worthy of Felix, so why did he love you?

Every day, like a painful melody, this unrequited love sounded in his heart. He experienced all emotions - from boundless happiness to deep sadness - alone

He couldn't imagine life without you

If you leave, there will be no point in living.

He writes you poems, he gives you the most expensive gifts, he just wants you to love him. Love him at least a little.

Perhaps his efforts will remain irretrievably lost in time. But one thing is certain: he will continue to love you, deeply and truly, even if he never hears your answer.

Come on scratch my back

So as to reach the heart

Both you and I want this (ЩЕНКИ–dirt)

Kim Seungmin

It's like he's afraid to get close to you.

On the contrary, he moves away. Every day it gets stronger, he loves you so much and doesn’t want to see you so much.

Seungmin took this step not because of a lack of love; in fact, on the contrary, he was struck by this love.

In every breath you took, every word you said, he found the perfect embodiment of his dreams. You were his sun, his muse, his everything.

But he knew he couldn't be with you. He saw how disappointed you were in your past love, how your trust and heart were damaged. He couldn't afford to repeat the same mistake. He couldn't risk their relationship knowing that the end could only be pain and disappointment.

It hurts so much to give up on someone you love.

He deserved happiness, he deserved love, but he couldn't have it with you.

He didn't want to ruin your life or be the source of your pain.

He will go away and it will be easier for everyone.

He will disappear from your life as suddenly as he appeared.

He will never forget you, he will never stop loving you. But he knows that sometimes the best decision is to let go of the one you love. This is exactly what he did because to him, your happiness was much more important than his own.

He looks at the dawn and remembers you.

Your nose is covered in cocaine, you can barely stand

I am the secret that you cannot hide

I think about you too much (Pharaoh-unplugged 2)

Yang Jeongin

You are his first love.

He sees a future with you, he sees stars in you.

It was the first time he felt such strong feelings for someone.

Oh, he is just learning about love, but it can hurt or beat sometimes. Love can completely break the psyche.

But he doesn't care as long as you exist.

Jeongin will turn to the Hyuns for advice. how to get your attention and make you fall in love.

He will be so romantic...he will be so gentle with you.

He is afraid to do something wrong so as not to scare you away

He will be a gentleman and will wait for the moment until you fall in love, he will do everything for this!

He will wait for you all his life if necessary, but I am sure that you will fall in love faster.

“He replaced my home, love and friends. He is my everything.”

Jeongin is like warm weather, everyone is waiting for him and wants him.

Feeling so lonely, 'cause it's not enough

Missin' you only ever since we fell in love (Ciggarets after sex–Touch)

[utterlyotterlyx]

The Fox and The Fawn

High Lord Eris x Rhys!Sister!Reader x Azriel

Part Five

Summary - After an intense meeting at the boarder, Eris and Lucien return home tight lipped and unwilling to ruin the night, and you discover something you thought was impossible.

Warnings - angst, fluff, Rhys being a grade A prick, our favourite found family back at it again, drinking, mentions of sex, some Eris background, Lucien being a meddler, a little trip down memory lane

Part One Part Two Part Three Part Four

HAPPY 600! 🥳

Be careful.

Eris would ensure he was. For you, he would contain his fiery rage, he would conform himself to the mask he had to wear around those from the Night Court. He would do anything to make sure he returned home to you.

Part of him was glad that Lucien had coaxed him away the moment he had secured you inside Fir Manor in the arms of Nesta and Elain, if he saw those rounded eyes of worry, he was sure that he may not have been able to walk away from you.

Sweat coated his brow as his weight crunched at the leaves and fallen branches beneath his feet. Of course Rhys had chosen to meet where Autumn met Winter, Kallias cared little when the High Lord of the Night Court would prowl onto his lands, and Rhys wouldn't dare to stand in Summer or Spring after what he and his Inner Circle had done to both of those courts.

The air had turned cold and the ground frozen a few miles back, the cold shrill of Winter swarmed around Eris and Lucien, and they were glad that they had made the smart decision to shroud themselves in their fur lined coats for what was sure to be a frosty meeting indeed. Though, Eris was glad that he had chosen the Winter boarder to say his piece, it meant that he was as far as possible away from you.

They had winnowed most of the way, hounds in tow bar Willow who had refused him to stay with you, coiling up on the porch and watching her master disappear into the forest. Lucien had groaned when they had landed at the foot of a rather large hill lined with an array of snow-kissed trees, Eris had smirked at the sound but willed his brother onward.

"Promise me that you won't let him get under your skin." There was still an ocean full of unspoken words between the two brothers, ones that voiced Eris’ regret and longing, that voiced all of guilt and desire to make things right.

In a way, it was easier for him to convince Lucien of his true nature now that they had something in common bar their looks, it was the shared need to protect you, to let you grow into your own person and watch on as you drove down your own path.

Eris frowned softly, he couldn't exactly blame Lucien for thinking that such a thing was possible, he hadn't exactly played the role of a loving brother or male in general. "I won't, Lucien. There is nothing he could say or offer to make me even consider it." That being handing you back over to the Night Court.

It wasn't something that he needed to say, neither of them wanted to even think about it as they continued upward.

"I know that you have no reason to trust anything I say after everything I've done to you," Lucien fell to Eris' side and glanced sidelong at him, not knowing what was coming next, "But I hope you can believe me when I say that I won't let any harm come to her. I have abided by every decision she has made, all I wish for is her happiness. I want her to grow and build her own life. All I can do is gently nudge her in the direction she is hesitant to follow, but I would never make her do anything she didn't wish to."

There was a pause, a comfortable silence as Lucien came to a certain realisation and grinned, "You feel something for her, don't you?" Eris felt the heat rise to his cheeks, the cold of the air making the redness more prominent on them, Lucien laughed, "I knew it from the moment you fought me to sit next to her at that dinner," his smile faltered and he stopped walking, he examined his brother, the one whose entire façade faltered the moment he noticed that you were around, "After everything that's happened, y/n deserves a chance to find her own passions away from the influence of anyone."

"I know that-"

"I wasn't finished," Lucien rolled his eyes and continued the ascent, passing Eris who trailed him by a step, "Despite everything, I do believe that she's better off here, with you. It's like you see her like how Nesta, Elain and I do but in a slightly different way, you see her in the way she deserves to be seen, in the most candid and gentle way possible," Lucien looked to Eris with understanding, "She deserves that, to be seen and understood and listened to, to be involved in every conversation, to be able to show everyone who she really is.”

The conversation died at the exact moment when the Vanserra brothers reached the apex of the mound, spotting the three Illyrians through the break in the trees that coiled around their figures, as if in warning to stay far far away.

The mask.

Right.

Rolling his shoulders, Eris was ashamed to drown his soul in the brutal essence which he often forced himself into, and he never wanted you to see just how bad it could be. Whisps of his breath floated from his lips, curling upward and freezing in the air.

"Thank you for waiting. Lucien couldn't keep up," the namesake scoffed in response as the pair approached the boarder, thanking the Mother of that intact shimmer which told them that the wards very much still up, and very strong. Eris folded his arms over his chest, finding the nearest tree and leaning on its rough bark before drawling, "You got me here, Rhys. Better start talking."

It was clear that Rhys was on the brink of losing his sanity, his eyes were cold and distant, more onyx than their usual violet hue, his wings were furled around his sides, and Lucien nor Eris could tell if he meant them to be intimidating. He appeared to them dishevelled, messy black hair, a certain paleness to his skin, an unhinged glare in his eye.

"I appreciate you taking the time to meet with us," he motioned to Azriel and Cassian, the latter of which looked more broken than Lucien had ever seen him, no doubt reeling in the loss of his mate, "I hope we don't keep you for long."

"Tell me what you want, Rhys. I don't have time for pleasantries," Eris plucked an invisible thread from the stitching of his coat and looked toward the High Lord.

The fake politeness was doing little to convince Eris of anything other than that Rhys surely was the most manipulative male he had ever come across, he stole that crown right from Beron's decaying corpse.

Resisting a snarl, Rhys exhaled deeply, unclenching his fists as he began a perfectly practiced speech, "My sister is not quite herself at the moment, I fear that she has made the wrong decision in residing in your court, her mental state has always been rather brittle," he took a step toward the boarder, his toes kissing the edge of that shimmering glare, "Give her back to us so that I can ensure that she receives the proper care."

"If y/n desires to return to the Night Court then she can, I'm not stopping her from doing whatever she wishes," Eris replied flatly, completely unphased to the words that were making his blood boil in his veins, did Rhys really have the gall to suggest that you were insane?

Azriel spoke then, realising that there was no realm of possibility where Eris would willingly give you back, "You stole her from the Day Court. Some would call it war-inducing."

There it was, the threat, Eris smiled, "Is that what you want? Another war?"

"I will do whatever is necessary to ensure her safe return to her home court."

Lucien moved to Eris' side, his muscles contracting with anger, "The Night Court is no longer her home," his voice was stoic and unnerving, his gaze daggered between the three Illyrians, "Eris did not steal her, she decided with her own strength to walk away from you, and she is already better for it."

Then, Rhys grinned, his power rattling against the wards around the Autumn Court, "I think you'll find, Lucien, that y/n belongs to me, she is property of the Night Court, her blood is a powerful tool that we can use to solidify our line. Since she is unmated, with no claim to her hand, it does mean that as long as she breathes, she is mine."

The words were a statement, and Rhys' voice did not falter. It was an old tradition, one marred in hatred and sadness. You were the daughter of a High Lord, and when he died, the archaic responsibility of marrying you into a suitable line fell to Rhys.

"I do suggest that you hand her over, I would hate to decimate your court, Eris. Especially when you've been working so hard to rectify the tyranny of your father," Rhys' hand drifted over his heart in mock sympathy.

There was no way in Hel that Eris would ever do such a thing, and he knew that there was no easy way for Rhys to willingly wage war on another court after what Prythian had only begun fully recovering from.

It was risky, but he couldn't let Rhys think he had him pinned to the frozen dirt like a snow fox to a bunny, "Rally your armies then, Rhysand, because there's no reality that exists where I would ever hand her over to you," then a feline smirk consumed his face, he ran his hand through his hair of fire and struck hard, "It seems to me that you only wish for her return so that no one learns what she is capable of. I intend to let her find out, and perhaps when the others realise too, of her story and what you've done, we may have High Queen on our hands."

Darkness exploded from him, his arms elongated into talons, his wings grew and creaked at the stretch like leather, he roared, an inhuman sound that sent shivers prickling down Eris and Lucien's spines; and even Azriel and Cassian had to step back with wide eyes at the sight of it.

Bingo.

With a graceful bow, Eris turned on his heels, beckoning his growling hounds whose hackles had raised to the skies, "I wish you a safe journey home, Rhysand. Send Feyre our collective regards," he called over his shoulder, not even flinching at the roar that flew threw the air.

They had what they wanted, the reason for Rhys' insistence, he knew that you had the power within you to be granted the highest honour of their world, and he had worked his entire existence to stop that from happening.

If Rhys wanted a war, then that's what he would get. Eris would rain hellfire over Prythian, and he knew for a fact that you would stand beside him smiling the entire time.

Eris and Lucien couldn't have been more relieved to be back at Fir Manor, the warmth of the estate shook their frozen bones back to life and they bristled off the jagged edges left by the words exchanged with Rhys.

Stones clunked together under their feet, but a hand on his arm stopped Eris moving to the house that was glowing with the essence of you. Golden light emitted from the windows and kissed the cobbled path before it, and girlish laughter drifted from the open windows along with the most divine smell.

"Before we go back in, I have to ask you something," Eris tensed and turned to his brother, his hair was unbound down the back of his fur coat, his mechanical eye surveyed him inquisitively, "Did you mean what you said back there? You'd go to war for her?"

Eris could had scoffed at the question, he removed his arm from his brothers grip and turned to the manor, smiling at the sight of you, Nesta, and Elain all dancing before the window, the neck of a wine bottle in your fingers and a sweet melody falling from your lips. Elain was cradling Willow in her arms who looked thrilled to be involved whilst Nesta had her own arms wound around your waist.

"Would you go to war for Elain?"

"Without question."

The sound of Eris' message being received was enough, but he spoke, "I have a feeling it won't come to that though. Call it a hunch."

Lucien hummed, not quite sure of what Eris meant, but followed after him as he paced down the path and up the porch steps, flinging the door open and grinning at your startled state as you fumbled to hide the wine bottle behind your back, "You're back," you whispered to him, the strap of your form fitting green dress falling over your shoulder which you didn't move to lift as you gazed at him.

His face was prickled with cold, his cheeks flush from walking into the heated manor from the wild winter winds; Eris shrugged off his coat and lay the garment over the arm of one of the armchairs of the seating area, pulling his sleeves up to expose his forearms, "I'm back."

"I'm here too, just in case anyone wanted to know," Lucien all but rolled his eyes at you as he passed, pressing his lips to Elain's forehead who fell into his embrace with Willow still firmly swaddled to her body, "Who's been cooking? I could smell it from outside," he delved deeper into the house despite Elain's scolding telling him that dinner wasn't ready yet.

Nesta followed the pair with a groan, taking the bottle of wine from behind your back and muttering something about saving the meal from Lucien's paws, leaving you and Eris alone.

Fiddling with your fingers, you took a step toward him, noticing a strand of his hair fall over his face and watching as his fingers moved to rake it back, such a thigh-clenching thing to witness. "How was it?"

"It was fine," his eyes still held a cold glare to them, one that was waning the longer it was fixated upon you, "We got what we needed."

"Which was?”

The nerves radiating from you were making even Eris feel nervous, he tiled his head to the side and took a step closer to you, his hands at his sides, "Not worthy enough to talk of now. Let's have tonight as a newly formed found family, and tomorrow, we can talk. I'll tell you everything you want to know."

Another step forward was taken by you, the hem of your dress swaying at the motion. You were so close to him that he could feel your warmth seep into his bones, so close that his cold breath made your own cheeks flush red.

It felt natural, to close the gap and fling your arms around him, to bury your face into his chest and deeply inhale his scent like you needed that to know that he had come back to you. There was a single beat where Eris just stood there frozen to the ground, but he slowly ran his fingers up your sides until one of them rested around your waist and the other cradled the back of your head, his nose rested atop of you, his lips ghosting at your hairline.

"I was worried," you admitted, squeezing him closer, thinking that if you didn't tell him that then he would think you weren't appreciative of the position he was now in.

Eris chuckled, it was low and rough, swirls of fire danced around your figures and his thumb rubbed small circles into the back of your neck, "You can't be rid of me that easily, Fawn."

The scampering of steps made you pull back from him, and he yearned to hold you again without a care about who would see and what they would say. Lucien entered the room once more holding a beautifully decorated cupcake in his hand, a raised brow on his face and fighting a smirk once he noted your closeness, "These cakes are amazing, y/n."

"Thank you, Lucien," you swayed back and forth on the balls of your feet, your eyes drowsy with drunkenness.

"I sent for dinner for your three, why are you cooking?" Eris asked, confused, only a fool would turn down food from the Autumn Court chefs.

Nesta shrugged, plopping herself down on one of the deep rooted chairs, licking her fingers free from icing, "Elain sent them away, says she can do better."

"Which you're now all ruining thanks to her cakes," Elain's hands were on her hips and she pointed to you, her apron was coated in flour, her hair was strewn up and messy, and it was clear that she was busy cooking before you and Nesta had pulled her from the kitchen to dance, "They are rather lovely, y/n. You should be thrilled."

Eris' heart fluttered as you turned to him, a hopeful glint in your eye, "Would you like to try one? I think you'd like them," he couldn't speak, he couldn't find the words really.

The firelight made you look ethereal, the golden flames danced in the glistening pools in your eyes, so pristine that he could see himself in them, "I'm afraid that I don't have much of a sweet tooth," your smile faltered, "I'm sorry."

The gaze he felt on his face was enough to make him warm the blood in warning to its owner, Lucien coughed, red faced and watering eyes and you turned to him with worry before he strained the words, "Sorry, crumb," a lie.

"Okay," you whistled, not at all noticing the silent daggers drifting between the two Vanserra brothers, which was odd considering how observant you usually were, perhaps it was the wine floating to your head.

Maybe you were letting your guard down and didn't feel the need to be watching everyone anymore.

Eris watched you retreat into the kitchen with Elain, waiting until you were out of view before he readied himself for Lucien, "I cannot remember a time when you denied yourself a dessert."

"Things change."

"Not with you they don't," Lucien stared after his mate, his eyes full of love and desire, full of possibility and thoughts of the future.

When the news had spread of Lucien and Elain's mating, Eris was truly happy for them, out of everyone he knew his brother was the one most deserving of that happiness, of that type of love. Eris couldn't say the same for himself, he didn't think he deserved any light after the things he had done, after the atrocities he had inflicted over the course of his existence. Having a mate was something he could never allow himself to dream of, everything he touched turned to ask, his fire and mask too cold to allow anyone close enough.

Eris had depleted his worth, he never let anyone touch him, he would cower from it like a wounded animal. Even when he laid with the courtesans, their time together was restricted to just sex, no kissing, no holding one another, just unsatisfying sex that made him bathe in self-loathing whilst his partner relished in the feeling of being fucked by fire.

There was always a part of him that felt unworthy, his father had gone as far to tell him so, multiple times. Every touch sent him spiralling into memories, ones of mutilation and marring, but when you had touched him, when you had wrapped your arms around him and held him close, he didn't feel the need to shrink away or unwind you from his body. All he wanted to do was keep you there forever, and that, that was something remarkable on its own.

You may have been Prythian's darkest secret, but he found you to be the only thing worth fighting for.

His salvation.

It wasn't long after dinner that you had disappeared from view.

It didn't take Eris long to embark on his search from you, excusing himself from the table that had long since gone quiet without your teasing stories of your upbringing and playdates with the High Lord beside you.

Eris didn't think that you would remember your visits to Autumn when you were a child, thinking that you were too young to retain the memories that he had held onto tightly. You were such an innocent little thing back then, and he remembered his wonderment when you had seen the orange ring in your eyes, displaying his own fire to compare the two and enjoying the sound of your giggles far too much.

He was sure that there was talk of a union between the two of you, he remembered the hushed whispers and beaming smiles of pride as both sets of parents gazed at the two of you playing in the corner with Lucien and Rhys adjacent. Though, neither of your brothers could steal your attention away from the other.

It was what he had held onto all of those years apart, in the moment when the light began to dim and the abuse began to accelerate, in the times when he wondered where you had gone. There were gaps in his mind, like memories had been stolen and locked elsewhere because he couldn't truly remember the last time he had seen you before the time he had caught a glimpse of your wingless figure wandering the halls Under The Mountain.

Eris wandered down the halls of the manor, following your scent that clung to the walls, absentmindedly pondering where exactly he would place a portrait of you in the vast home.

The sound of gentle whimpers entered his earshot and he stopped in his tracks, turning his head to the side to listen harder. He knew that the whimpers were coming from you, they weren't scared ones, but ones of pain, and his heart raced in his chest at the mere thought of you being in any form of pain under his roof.

Knocking softly on the door to your room, his old room, the grandest chamber in the entire manor, he waited patiently and listened to the shuffle of your feet and the soft padding of your companion before the door opened to reveal your strained features and a certain hound peeking around the wood, "You left."

Turning from him, you winced, leaving the door open enough for him to let himself inside, "I get these knots under my scars, it feels like I'm being stabbed, and I just need a minute when it starts."

Eris had heard of it, of the pain residing in the bones and muscles of clipped Illyrian females, sometimes so severe that they believe a new pair are pushing their way through the marred crescent moon scars, and breaking a little when they realised that it wasn't the case.

"It's been happening more recently, I think it might be stress related," you huffed out a laugh. It wouldn't be surprising, you had gone through enough to have permanent knots twisting at your shoulders, "Mor or Azriel usually tend to them," your voice was full of longing as you perched on the edge of the chaise lounge before the roaring fireplace. Willow had hopped up onto the plush piece of furniture, spinning in three circles before settling her head into your lap. Eris made a note to scold her for that later.

The tattoo on your arm shone in the golden embers, swirls of shadow and fire intertwining and dancing around your bicep, "I can help."

"Eris," you winced softly as you turned your head to him, "I couldn't ask you to do that, you've done so much already."

"You're not asking," he moved behind you, his fingers hovering over the sheer fabric of your dress that was transparent enough for him to see the muscle contorting under your skin, "If all I can give you is some relief, then I will."

A moment passed as you thought about it, but you nodded, giving him permission to unlace the strings holding the back of your dress together and pull the straps over your shoulders.

Eris' fingers were warm against your skin, you sucked in a breath at the contact, you felt fire spread across your surface as his gently wound his fingers into your flesh, "I want to try something." When you said nothing, he took it as a sign of agreement, he allowed his fire to flow into his fingertips, the heat of them unwinding the knot in your muscles instantly, withering the demon under your skin into the abyss, "Better?"

"Much," you glanced over your shoulder, "Thank you," your eyes were dazed and you smiled at him, your own fingers running down the space between Willow's eyes and down her long nose.

A question had been poking at him the moment he had seen it, the tattoo that glowed in the light, the one that when you looked at it for a moment too long seemed to dance, "That tattoo. It was a bargain?"

A solemn nod, "Yes," you confirmed, "Between Azriel and I," you gazed into the fire and sighed, but you didn't move away from Eris when he took the seat beside you, "We promised that we would always look after one another, that we would never feel harm at the other's hand."

You smiled sadly, "Azriel and I weren't so different, we were both raised by people who didn't particularly want us, burdened with a power we didn't understand. I think we understood one another in a way no one else could, we knew what we needed and when, we basically knew each other better than we knew ourselves," your voice trailed off, "At least, I thought we did," tears pooled on your bottom lids and you blinked hard to rid your vision of their blurry infliction.

Eris watched you shudder, the loneliness and betrayal worming its way into your soul like you had realised the gravity of it all.

Shuffling closer, Eris' thigh brushed against your own, his fingers millimetres away from yours and he gave into his desire to touch you as his index finger curled around your little one. A simple action to show that he understood, and more a singular moment, you let your guard down, the walls tumbled and you felt his power wash over you, kissing your own and sewing together the brittle remnants of your essence.

The room shifted, the world tilted, and you felt a sensation you had never felt before. Looking down, you found black flames licking up your fingers, they danced up your arms and across your connected digits to curl around Eris.

Neither of you moved, you both simply gazed at it, his fire and your darkness moulding together to create a wonderous crackle of flame that didn't burn either of you. It was softly calling out, and you raised your entwined fingers to inspect it carefully.

It was meant to be terrifying, but the personification of your darkness felt more childlike than anything, it was excited and new, and it nestled itself onto both of your limbs.

"I've never seen anything like this before," Eris held your palm atop of his own, his fingers smoothing over your pulse as his eyes found you, examining your face, namely your eyes where the fire in them burnt brightly.

Eris should have cowered away from you, but he loved your touch more than anything, and no matter how fleeting it may be, he would bathe in it for as long as he possibly could. "Neither have I," you tilted your head, realisation was littered on you, "But I've read about it. It's called Carranam, I think." The look in your enlightened eyes told him of the rarity of such a thing.

"You really are a clever little thing, aren't you?"

A sidelong glance and smirk later, you drawled, "You don't even know the half of it, High Lord."

Author's Note

Here she is!!!

Hope you love this and are going just as feral as me right now 🫶🏻

Taglist

@mybestfriendmademe @jesskidding3 @rosewood-cafe @fandomarchiveilyd @brujitafantomatico @crazylokonugget @mai-adaptive-dreams @magicstrengthandcourage @acourtofmoonlightandstars @ysmttty @lilah-asteria @circe143 @xyzmeh @paleidiot @namelesssav @amberlynn98 @acourtofbatboydreams @azrielsmate3 @ivy-34 @mp-littlebit @honeysuckle-daydreams13 @iamjimintrash @ifonlyiwerefiction @pirana10 @donttellthecats @padbaeamidla

[buckys-wintersoldier]

Already Mine | Bucky Barnes; Part Two

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 -> Boyfriend!Bucky Barnes x Girlfriend!Reader

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 -> After the first time together and the confessing of your feelings the two are in a relationship. When the morning sickness starts and your period isn’t there in time you do a pregnancy test.

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 -> 4.665

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 -> (E) 18+, Minors DNI, pregnancy test, slight angst, Bucky’s past trauma, Smut, fingering (fem!receiving), unprotected p in v, breeding kink, dirty talk, using the word slut, praises, a lot of fluff

𝐑𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭 -> Idea for already mine pt 2. Reader and Bucky and together now, but after that night, unless its Bucky groaning about how he is going to impregnate the reader as he fills her up, they have never spoken about it outside the bedroom. so when the test comesout positive, the reader is worried if thats what Bucky wants with the whole 'im still getting used to the new world and repaying my sins' thing going on. so she feels really scared and breaks down when Bucky asks her about it. and when she does tell him, he's so elated atthe same time a tad bit upset and himself that you feel like he wouldnt want the child? so basically smut, like smut with a lot lot lot of feral talk at the same time love filled breeding kink, claiming, him telling her how he is gonna marry her. just a lot of lust and love and dirty talking. yeah. @almosttoopizza

𝐀/𝐍 -> Thank you so much for the idea for the second part of Already Mine. And I hope you like what I made with it.

𝐄𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 -> Already Mine | Part One

Fandom-Free Bingo: Frosty Edition | B2 | Stripped | @fandom-free-bingo

Masterlist | Bucky Barnes Masterlist

Since the two of you had your first time together, you haven’t really talked about details. You two are together, but none of you is mentioning anything about getting kids. Bucky has a huge breeding kink, and you really don’t mind; you like it, and whenever you have sex, he has such a filthy mouth, and hearing his sexy thoughts turns you on beyond belief. His hands are all over your body, and his cock is buried inside of you, while he tells you how good you feel and that he will give you a lot of little kids who are all like him and are at the same time hot and cute.

Right now, you’re lying with Bucky behind you in your shared bed. His arm is wrapped around your stomach, holding you tightly against him. Bucky snores softly into your neck, his warm breath giving you goosebumps all over your body. You smile softly, his warmth running through your body, and you lean more into him.

You wear a shirt and boxers, and his hand is placed underneath the shirt on your bare skin. After a long night and a lot of orgasms, he cleaned the two of you and gave you some clothes to wear - your favorite ones, because they are his.

When you slowly turn around to look at your boyfriend, you feel an uncomfortable and hurting feeling growing in your stomach. It slowly crawls higher until it reaches your throat, and you feel like you just want to throw up to get rid of everything you ate yesterday. You hold one of your hands on your stomach, and while you wiggle out of Bucky’s arm, you place his arm next to you and get out of bed. Then you almost run into the bathroom, and just in time, you manage to sit in front of it before you lean over it and let go of everything that comes out of you. Tears are burning in your eyes. When you lean back, a quiet sob escapes your mouth, and you hold your hand under your chin, looking at the wall while your stomach feels like it’s spinning around.

Bucky feels your shifting, and when you remove his hand, he growls softly. He listens to your footsteps, furrowing his eyebrows in confusion when he hears you walking really fast. And when he hears you throwing up, he almost jumps out of bed. On his way into the bathroom, he grabs a blanket and a bottle of water. You’re still sitting in front of the toilet, crying while you throw up a second time. Bucky walks closer, getting on his knees next to you and wrapping the blanket around your trembling body. He holds you close and makes you a bun, then he strokes your back softly.

“Is oke, are you feeling better?” he asks, softly wiping a few tears out of your face.

You shake your head, holding your stomach, while you press yourself more against him. His warm embrace relaxes you a bit. Bucky moves slowly forward and backward, and then he offers you the bottle of water.

After a few more minutes, you feel better, and Bucky helps you get up and carries you into bed. His hand strokes your forehead, but it’s not hot, so he relaxes softly. Maybe you just ate something you shouldn’t have eaten? Without a word, you know that he is worried about you, but he tries his best to hide it. His ocean-blue eyes aren’t as bright as usual when he shifts softly.

“I’m fine, Buck. Maybe just a gastrointestinal infection,” you say and sit up, with your back against the headboard. You smirk. “But I’m hungry now.”

Bucky chuckles, pressing you softly back when you try to get up. His eyebrow is raised when you look at him, pouting, but he just kisses away and turns around to make his way to the kitchen.

“Don’t even think of getting up; I will bring you your food, doll,” he shouts from the floor, his voice demanding, and you know better than to disobey him.

With a groan, you look for the remote on the television, turn it on, and look through the channel until you find something good to watch. When Bucky comes back with two places in your hands, you inhale deeply, and your smile grows when you smell your favorite food.

“You’re the best, Bucky,” you say, taking the plate he hands you.

“I know; that’s why I’m your boyfriend.”

Bucky walks around the bed and sits down next to you. The two of you enjoy your breakfast, your stomach feels slightly better, and after getting a lot of kisses from your boyfriend, you’re happy and don’t even think about your stomachache.

— —

After a few more days and the morning sickness still being there, you call your best friend, Natasha. She usually has an explanation for everything about women’s issues and always knows how to cheer you up. Bucky is currently in a meeting and won’t be home before dinner, so you pick up your phone from the bed and unlock it before you call Nat.

“Hey, girly,” she greets you happily, and you smirk. “What’s up? Bucky said you’re not feeling well in the mornings?”

You hum softly. Bucky asked you to talk with Steve and Natasha, and of course, you allowed him. Especially since he gets used to things in modern times. For you and the others, those things are normal, but for him, it’s sometimes like the biggest science thing. So is his relationship with you, and he wants to be the best boyfriend he can be for you. When he needs help, he turns to either you or Steve, and because he lives with Natasha, she is always aware of it. But you don’t mind; she is your best friend, like Steve.

“Yeah. And my period, I- Nat, I didn't have it for a while now.”

You hear the gasp on the other side of the phone, and then she almost screams in excitement.

“You know what that means, right? You’re pregnant!”

“But- Do you think Bucky can get children? I mean, because of the things Hydra did with him, don’t you think they took care that he wouldn’t be able to get kids? In case he would have had sex with someone?”

Nat is quiet for a moment, then she clears her throat.

“You can find it out really easily. Just make a test, and when it’s positive, you know that he can get kids,” she says, amused.

“What when it’s positive and he doesn’t want any?”

“Damn, he is in love with you more than that. He can’t even look at you without smiling; when he wants something, it’s a family with you,” she says softly, but you just hum.

When you both hang up, you walk into the bathroom. You got a test from Natasha and Steve a while ago. It was a party - hosted by Tony - and you played a game where you gave your best friends a present they could or could not need at some point. When you’re in the bathroom, you look for the test and read the instructions, then you do what they tell you to do. After placing it on the counter, you look at your phone, and in fifteen minutes, you know if you’re pregnant or not.

Those fifteen minutes feel like forever; the pregnancy test doesn’t show you a result before, even when you look at it every minute. Your heart races, and your head spins slightly because of the nervousness. You hear your blood rushing through your veins, your phone still in your hand while you look up and down from it. You shift from one foot to the other, sweat covering your forehead, when the result is almost there.

Your mind is filled with so many thoughts about Bucky; how would he react when you’re pregnant? Would he leave you, or does he really want a child with you? Is he already ready to have a child at all? Are you ready for a child? Does your relationship break when you’re pregnant, or would he still love you? During sex, the thoughts of being pregnant are definitely different; they are hot. But with the test in front of you, it’s another feeling between happiness and nervousness - your feelings are a complete mess.

You haven’t recognized that you stare at the wall until your phone vibrates and you look down, looking at the teat that tells you if you’re pregnant or not. A part of you hopes to see a yes; the other part is unsure how you feel when it shows you that you would carry Bucky’s baby inside your belly.

When you finally look down and read what the pregnancy test tells you, you feel the tears streaming down your cheeks. Every emotion overcomes you, and you let yourself fall to the ground, your legs pressing against your chest while you hold your legs tightly. You sob loudly, a bit because of happiness and a bit because you don’t know how to handle the emotions you have at the moment. You’re pregnant. With Bucky, you are going to become parents, and it feels so fantastic that you just can’t help but cry.

Your phone vibrates a few times next to you, but you’re just staring at the pregnancy test in your hands; you can’t believe it. The smile across your face grows whenever you read the word “pregnant” written on the little display of the test.

When you slowly calm down and look at your phone, you see a message Bucky sent just a few minutes ago. He asked what you wanted to eat and if he should bring some or if you wanted to cook. You smile when you scroll the message down and see the bunch of emojis he used. There are a lot of hearts and other cute emojis, and between them is written “I love you, my precious doll” and your smile grows when you see that. As much as he looks like a complete jerk when he uses emojis, you absolutely love and adore it. You tell him to bring some food, then you stand up and pick up the pregnancy test, bringing it into the bedroom to place it in your wardrobe.

You’re still unsure how to feel, especially how to tell Bucky and how he reacts when you tell him that the two of you have become parents. You love him, and you know he loves you, but that doesn’t mean that he wants or is ready for the next step in your relationship.

When Bucky comes home, you’re sitting in bed, watching television. He walks into your shared bedroom, smiling widely when he holds the food in his hands. You smile back, but not the way he is used to seeing you when he comes home. Usually you would hug him and ask him quietly for a lot of kisses, but now you’re sitting in bed and waiting until he comes closer and kisses you softly.

“Hey, doll. Everything alright?”

You nod, and he places the food on your lap. Then he takes off his shoes and jacket and sits down next to you. You hand him his food, not really looking at him or talking to him. Bucky clenches his jaw. Did he do something wrong? Are you mad at him because of something? Or don’t you love him anymore?

“Baby?”

“Mhm?”

You look at him, smiling softly, but it’s not the real smile that is formed on your lips. It’s a forced one, and Bucky feels uncomfortable when he sees you not being as happy as he is used to seeing you and you trying to hide it.

“Are you sure you’re alright?” he asks, looking at you with his beautiful blue eyes.

Your lips start to tremble, and your body shakes slightly, but Bucky sees it; he sees the way you try to hide the upcoming tears in your eyes. Even when you turn your head away and let the tears stream down your cheeks to hide them, Bucky grips your chin and tilts it towards him, making you look at him.

“Did I do something wrong?” he asks, and his voice shakes slightly.

You shake your head, not able to say something without crying. He rubs his big hand over the small of your back. The way Bucky touches you and his warm hand feels against your body helps you calm down. The feelings are overwhelming, but you also want to tell him that you’re pregnant and let him feel the happiness you feel.

“I-I’m- Bucky; don’t be mad, but we- we’re pregnant,” you mumble, looking at everything but him, in case he isn’t as happy as you about it.

He gasps; a smile forms on his lips, but it fades away as fast as it came. Bucky is happy to become the father of a child that he will have with you, but the way you don’t look at him and have cried before makes him unsure. He definitely misread your expression, and he feels guilty for impregnating you. Maybe you don’t want to have a child; maybe you do, but not with him. When you turn your head, you see his cold expression. He doesn’t smile; he just stares at you. Then he gets up and walks out of the bedroom, not even saying a word.

When he leaves the room, you start to cry again, your hands holding your belly and stroking it softly. You don’t understand why he acts like that. Isn’t he happy to become a dad? Isn’t he ready to have a child, or does he want to have a family with someone else and feels like he is responsible for you now?

Bucky rushes out of the room, his hands sliding through his hair, and he tugs at them harshly. He should have used a condom, and you should have used protection. Now you carry a baby inside of you, and he already loves the little one, but you don’t, do you? How can you love a child who is from a person like him, a cold assassin? Someone who doesn’t know how modern technology works until someone explains it to him: How can you love him now when you have a baby inside your wonderful belly, his baby inside it. You didn’t even look at him; you cried because of him because he breeds you. Because he was so needy and needed to fuck a baby inside of you. A thought he loves, but a thought you seem to hate. He blames himself, and now he just ran out of the room to get some air. How can you love him when he can’t be there for you? How can he care for someone so small and innocent?

You get out of bed, tears blurring your view, but you just want to know what Bucky thinks about your child. So you make your way to the door, and when you look through the floor, you see him at the end of it, sitting on the ground and crying silently that he messed up so badly and that you probably don’t want him to be the dad of the child. His hands tug at his hair, while his knees are pressed against his body.

The picture in front of you reminds you of the first time you met Bucky, when he suffered because of his nightmare and his past. When he wasn’t able to get sleep, he just wanted to get some comfort and love. And it hurts you to see him like that again; you don’t want anything else but to see him happy. You have happy news, but he looks like he isn’t happy about them?

With a few slow steps, you walk closer to him. He recognizes you, but he doesn’t look up. Bucky doesn’t want you to see the trails of tears on his cheeks, and he doesn’t want you to see his red eyes. You kneel in front of him, then you capture his cheeks with your hands and make him look up at you. Your eyes are as red as his, but the blue shinning when he sees you can push the darkest clouds away.

“Bucky, we- we don’t have to become a child when you’re not ready yet. Even when you never want a child with me, it’s oke. I love you, and that is all that matters,” you say, your thumbs slowly wiping his tears away.

“I-I want it? But it seemed like you didn't want it. "I thought it was because you don't want a child with me," Bucky murmurs, his gaze drawn to your lips.

“I want. You can give me as many babies as you want, as long as they are like you.”

When he smiles, you lean closer and kiss him softly. His soft, plumb lips brush against yours, and you sigh. The warmth is rushing through your body until it reaches your cunt, and you press your legs together.

“Time for lunch?” Bucky asks with a smirk, mischievous and needy, and you nod.

You both stand up, and before you can take a step backwards, he lifts you up. You squeal, then you wrap your legs and arms around him. Bucky’s hands slide to your ass, squeezing it while he hums. He walks along the floor until he reaches your bedroom and walks into it, letting you fall onto the bed. Bucky towers over you, his lips chasing yours, and you melt into his touch. The food that is still on the bed finds its way onto the floor, and when you want to complain about the mess, Bucky shushes you with a lovely and passionate kiss. His hand slides down your sides, and he kisses your jaw and neck before he kneels down between your legs. He lifts your t-shirt, his metal hand slowly stroking your belly.

“Hey, little one. Make some space, yeah? I want to give your mommy some pleasure.” Bucky mumbles and kisses your stomach, making you laugh.

Bucky looks at you, smiling, before he trails kisses down your body until he reaches the waistband of your pants. With one movement, he takes your pants together, with your panties off, and groans when he sees your glistening folds. His fingers trail along your thighs before he slides two of his metal fingers through your folds, making you whine. He plays softly with your clit before he lets go to you and takes off his t-shirt, knowing that you get turned on even more when you see his bare skin and especially his muscles flexing while he makes you cum in his fingers.

“Take off your shirt and bra; I want to see my precious doll without the covering fabric,” he groans, and wait until you do, like he told you.

You sit up and take off the shirt, then you open the bra to let it slide down your arms and place it next to you. Bucky smiles, leaning closer to kiss your thighs while his hands are stoking over your sides and lower belly, before he uses his metal hand to glide his fingers through your folds, making you squirm. Bucky’s eyes are focused on your wet pussy, and with his broad shoulder, he holds your legs spread apart. He slowly guides his fingers further down until he reaches your entrance and dips his fingertip into it. You’re clenching around nothing, and Bucky chuckles while he slowly works his finger into your wet, tight hole. You moan, pushing yourself more against him. Bucky pushes his finger completely inside of you, slowly stroking your walls before he pulls it out of you and pushes his finger back inside of you. The cold of his metal finger lets you shiver, but you like the cold compared to your hot skin.

“You’re feeling so well around my finger already,” he mumbles, kissing your thigh.

Then he adds another finger, massaging your sweet spot softly while your moans are getting louder and you arch your back. Your fingers are digging into the bed sheets, grounding yourself.

“That’s it; come for me,” he says in a demanding tone.

He knows your body so well that he can tell how often he needs to stroke your sweet spot to make you come, how much your walls are clenching when you’re close, and how your moans sound when you’re at the edge of letting go and letting the pleasure flow through you.

“Bucky-“ you moan, lips parted slightly.

You come all over his fingers; your juice is flowing over his fingers; and the sound when he pushes his fingers in and out of you makes it all so much hotter. With another stroke of his fingers against your sweet spot, you squirt all over his fingers, and he smirks while he slows the pace of his fingers.

“Mhm, you did so well for me, doll. Made just a mess all over me. Now I’m gonna breed you. I pump you so full with my babies. You won’t be able to walk for at least a day when I have my seeds all in you, when you’re sweating but still begging for more. You will be such a little slut for my dick, won’t you?”

You moan; the way he talks to you makes you needier, and you press yourself against him. You’re so desperate for him and his cock. Bucky gets up, opening his belt and zipper before he takes his pants off, throwing them somewhere in the room. His rock-hard member is visible through his boxers, pre-cum soaking the fabric, and you bite your bottom lip. Bucky slips his underwear down as well, revealing his hard cock. Then he walks closer, leaning over you. Bucky kisses a trail from your throat down to your breasts, biting your skin softly.

“Mhm, I love you, every inch of you, baby,” he groans and kisses along your breasts, leaving hickeys all over your collarbone. “All mine; see, you’re all mine.”

His hands slide your sides up and down, causing goosebumps all over your body. Bucky chuckles softly, capturing your cheeks and pressing his lips against yours. Bucky helps you to move further into the bed, kneeling between your legs while his thick cock slides over your pussy, making you gasp softly.

“Bucky-“

“Shh, you get my cock.”

Your fingers are grabbing his hair, tugging at it while you pull him closer. His blue eyes pierce into yours, his hands slide down between your bodies, and he grips the base of his member, guiding his tip through your wet folds. Bucky smears his pre-cum and your juices all over his tip, groaning softly. Then he lines himself up with your entrance and pushes slowly inside of you. He stretches you perfectly, making you moan into his mouth while he enters you inch by inch. Your nails are digging into Bucky’s shoulder, holding him close. Your walls clench deliciously around his thick cock.

“You feel so good; I want to come immediately inside you. I will fill you and give you all. And then you will carry our pretty little babies, my precious doll,” Bucky says, kissing your cheek while he doesn’t move his dick inside of you.

“Please, move,” you whine, arching your back and pressing yourself more against him.

“So desperate, aren’t you? You look so innocent, but you’re such a little desperate slut for my dick, aren’t you?”

“Fuck, Bucky.”

“Tell me, are you my little cock-hungry slut?”

“I’m. I’m your little cock-hungry slut, but please move.”

Bucky grins, pulling slowly out of you before he pushes his dick back inside of you. You’re clenching around him, your walls holding him tightly, and you moan when he hits your sweet spot immediately. A rough chuckle leaves his lips while he rolls his hips against yours, his dick fitting perfectly into your wet, warm hole, and the sounds that leave your mouth - so desperate and needy - making Bucky go crazy. His cock hits all the right spots, and you grip his shoulders harsher, pressing your hips more against him. Bucky slowly starts to thrust into you, and at a steady pace, he hits your sweet spot whenever he is inside of you. You’re just a moaning mess underneath him, nails digging into his soft skin, while he looks with so much adoration in his eyes at you that you want to melt.

“My precious doll. I’m gonna breed you. Give you all I have, and you will be filled completely. My cum is going to leak out of you, and I will push it all back so you will get so many little babies with me,” Bucky mumbles, his forehead resting against yours.

You smile; he has such a filthy mouth when you have sex, and the way his body feels against yours and his dick feels inside your walls makes you feel complete. His member is stroking your walls so perfectly. You clench around him, squeeze him, and Bucky wants to bury his dick all the time between your tight wall.

“I love you so much; you will be the best mother. We are going to be parents, baby. You make me so happy, and becoming the daddy of our little pretty baby, having a family with you, doll-“ Bucky interrupts himself and presses his lips on yours.

You giggle softly until his thrusts become faster and harder. He chuckles while he thrusts with a harsh pace inside of you. Bucky’s metal hand slides down between your legs; he rubs small circles on your clit, making you gasp and moan even louder. Your back is arched, Bucky’s hands gripping his shoulder tighter, he slides his hand up your body, and then he lets his body fall on top of yours. His warm chest is pressed against yours, sweat coating both of your bodies.

“Come, doll. All over my dick, squeeze my dick like the good girl you are,” he says, kissing and biting softly the soft skin of your neck.

The trimmed hair is gracing over your clit, and your eyes roll back. The pleasure in your stomach grows while Bucky looks at you, focused on your face while your orgasm rushes through your body. You mumble Bucky’s name over and over while you come. Your toes curl, and you press your thighs together, or at least as much as it’s possible with Bucky between them. Your walls clench around him, squeezing him. Bucky doesn’t need long until he comes inside your pussy. His white, warm seeds are painting your walls. Bucky breathes heavily, thrusting a few more times inside of you before he kisses you. Your hands are running through his sweaty hair, and you tug at them, making him groan.

“Do you need more? Do you need to be filled with more cum? Such a filthy little doll,” he says, smirking. “I love you so much.”

“I love you too, Buck.”

“You know my dick will be inside of you until I’m sure you’re pregnant with more of my babies.”

“You know that I can’t be more pregnant when I’m already pregnant?”

Bucky nods, but he doesn’t move an inch. He is pushing his seeds with his dick deep into your pussy, and he looks so proud that you laugh softly.

“You’re cute, you know that?” you ask.

“You know that you have to deal with more of me in a bit, right?”

His eyes light up when he asks that question; anticipation flows through his veins, and he kisses every inch of your face. Making you giggle. You haven’t seen Bucky happy like that in a while, but you’re glad he is happy, especially because it’s of you, and that the two of you will become parents to a little one soon.

┏━━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━━┓

𝐂𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭, 𝐑𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐋𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐨

𝐬𝐮𝐩𝐩𝐨𝐫𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐬

┗━━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━━┛

Taglist: @nicoline1998enilocin @mrsbuckybarnes1917 @sergeantbarnessdoll @kandis-mom @identity2212 @km-ffluv @lunaalovesyouu @blackhawkfanatic @armystay89 @randomawesomeperson102 @rogersbarber @bucky-barnes-lover @felicitylemon @cjand10 @bookishtheaterlover7 @casa-boiardi @futurequeen2018-blog @flstrawberry

[myfictionaldreams]

Winter Soup // Mafia!Stucky x F!Reader

Summary: There was no better feeling than a bowl of hot soup when you're feeling unwell and, what's even better is when it's delivered to your door every day by your new guard. It tasted amazing and you could always trust everyone in the Mafia... right?

Requested by: @senjoritanana​​ thank you so much, I hope you enjoy all the angst!

A/N: PSA I don't know the specifics of how poisons work and didn't want to risk it on my google history lmao so please ignore any inaccuracies. Please read the tags if you're affected by near death experiences, please proceed with caution and if I've missed any tags/warnings, please let me know!

Warnings/Tags: 18+ readers only, hints of smut, angst (LOTS BUCKLE UP), fluff, polyamory relationship, poisoning, blood and injury, anxiety, crying, begging, near death expierences, reader is injured, pain, emotional hurt/comfort, hospitalization, protective Steve Bucky and Sam, everyone needs a hug tbh

Words: 7.7k

my masterlist 📚 AO3 Link

The warmer months were slowly starting to shift into winter and for some reason this year, the weather change was beginning to affect your health. You’d heard of the phrase ‘seasonal depression’ but you were convinced that it was due to the cooler weather that was making you feel this rubbish.

It had been happening for a week now, and some days you’d feel fine, normal in fact but then others your chest felt so tight as if an elephant was sitting on top of you, nausea, vertigo and heart palpations that would have you clutching your chest with fear you might explode. With each passing day, you would be praying for the summer months to return, especially as the snow and ice increased with intensity outside of your home.

You were fine for the most part, good days and bad; yes you might be getting worse with each passing day but you were adamant that the seasonal illness would pass. However, the frosty weather was also a minor blessing because it was your excuse to stay home and be a pretty housewife for Steve and Bucky. Being able to stay home made it easier to keep the illness to yourself as well, it was a busy time within the Rogers mafia and you didn’t need them wasting their time fretting over your wellness when they had a lot of other things to do. They had many international deals that were so close to being signed for and contracted that every waking hour was spent at the office, on phone calls, and emails, trying to talk to locals across the world to attend meetings on their behalf so the boys were thoroughly busy.

There were a few occasions you’d attended with them to the office if you were feeling particularly needy or lonely but it unnerved you to drive on the snow and ice so when you suggested that you might stay at home, Steve and Bucky offered no complaints.

At home at least you were able to mop about, trying to perk yourself up with movies, pyjamas and your favourite bowl of warm soup. Over the last few months, you’d been trying to improve your cooking skills, especially to impress Steve who usually cooked for three of you. This became more interesting as the colder months drew in over Brooklyn as this meant you could cook more homely, hearty foods such as soups and stews, especially as you had recipe suggestions from the newly hired grounds guard Rafael.

He’d been recommended by a friend of a friend for Steve to hire which was perfect timing because the last grounds guard had retired. There were a few occasions when he was the guard to bring the post to the front door from the front gate and you soon found he was enthusiastic and easy to talk to, even though he was a little bit older, which was how you found out he had previously been a chef and offered to give you recipe ideas. As winter drew in, Rafael began turning up when he knew you were by yourself to deliver some of his momma’s family recipe soups, hoping that the meal would perk you up which it did, they tasted so delicious that you were secretly hoping he would keep bringing them to you, especially as you continued to feel unwell.

“What is it today?”, you asked voice full of hope and trying to sound as upbeat as possible. Even though you were desperately holding onto the door handle as your head was spinning and scared you’d fall over.

“Potato and leek soup and they’re all grown in my back yard so hopefully you’ll love it even more than usual”, Rafael smiled as he handed over the container, his smile broad and causing the aged creases at the corner of his eyes to deepen.

Gleefully you accepted the soup, opening the lid slightly to smell the delicious meal, your stomach grumbling with hunger. Your appetite had reduced significantly over the last few days due to always feeling nauseous however it seemed the only thing that you could stomach was his delicious meals and therefore his arrival was always welcomed.

“Thank you so much! Please will you let me pay you this time? You’re being way too kind to me, always giving me free meals, you’re going above and beyond a usual guard”, you pleaded whilst also having to return holding onto the door handle as it felt like the ground was moving with your dizziness.

Rafael held up his hands and shook his head, taking a step back, “Absolutely not! Just wanted to give you something to make you feel better and make the fairies go away”.

The guard halted, a look of embarrassment passing out his features as he realised what he just said, especially as you asked, “Fairies?”

He awkwardly looked down at his shoes, rubbing the back of his neck as he tried to explain, “Yeah it’s just something my momma use to say. If we were feeling unwell, it’s because the fairies had crept into our stomachs and were being naughty and making us ill and now I’ve said it out loud to another person I’ve realised how insane that sounds so I’m going to stop talking”.

You squeezed your lips together to try and contain your laughter but that lasted a moment before you were both laughing which only turned into you losing your balance against the door and swaying to keep yourself upright. The laughter died in Rafael’s eyes as he reached out to you, “Woah, you ok, Ma’am?”

Quickly brushing him off, you took a step back into your home, trying to ask nonchalantly about the situation, “Yeah sorry, probably just the fairies pushing me over”. Your joke didn’t seem to comfort him in any way as he continued to look uneased by your appearance.

Thankfully Rafael didn’t push the situation any further, seeing that you wanted to escape back into the comfort of your home, he took his step back with a simple smile. “Get back inside before you catch another cold from this snow. Eat the soup whilst it’s still warm and I’ll be back tomorrow to hear the verdict on the taste.”

“Thank you Rafael! Enjoy the rest of your day!”. You waved him off and rushed to slam the door, sliding down to the floor against the wood, losing all energy that you’d built that morning just for that one conversation. Ok yes, you were feeling sorry for yourself as you tried to catch your breath, heart pounding violently in your chest that it also echoed in your ears and your vision was still seeing double of everything.

However your stomach continued to gurgle with hunger so without wasting any more energy, you opened the lid and ate the entire contents then and there. Releasing a satisfied sigh at the delicious meal, you took another couple of minutes to gather your senses before dragging yourself over to the living room, collapsing onto your back on the couch and letting sleep take you into a dreamless realm.

A violent shake of your shoulders by a hard grip on your shoulder was what startled you awake as Sam’s voice then surrounded you as he shouted, “Hey! Wake up!”.

“I think this is the first time I’ve ever been close to hating you Sam Wilson”, you croaked before coughs shattered your chest, rocking your body as you tried to sit up and suck in any air between the painful coughs. Finally, you calmed down enough to collapse back against the decorative cushions of the couch and open your eyes to look at the three Sam’s that hovered over you. After a couple more blinks, they merged into one, very distressed-looking bodyguard, eyebrows knitted together and jaw muscle clenched harshly.

Sam reached towards your face, pressing against your cheek in concern, “Why didn’t you tell me you were ill?”

“What? I’m not ill, I’m just tired, can’t a girl nap around here?” you questioned with a raised eyebrow, trying to look as relaxed as possible. 

The man didn’t look convinced as he sat on the edge of the couch next to you. Releasing a heavy sigh which only twinged something in your chest that made you want to cough but you refrained from doing so as you emphasised, “Sam seriously, I’m fine”.

Sam gave you another serious glance, eyes hardening as he explained, “You didn’t sound fine, you were wheezing so hard in your sleep I thought you were going to stop breathing”.

There was no denying the panic that filled your heart and would explain the tightened feeling in your chest but you tried to not let the fear show on your face as you rolled your eyes, reaching for his hand and squeezing it.

“I appreciate your concern Sam, but I feel ok, I’m just tired, I was probably just sleeping in a weird position and look, no wheeze now!” Taking a deep breath to show there was no more noise coming from your chest, however, it didn’t seem to comfort him in any way.

“Yeah well you’re still looking peaky and why are you so tired all the time recently, you’re never usually like this”.

“It’s probably just the cold weather or something. If I start to feel unwell, you know I’d tell you. I’m a big baby when I’m ill, you’ll be the first to know”. Sam looked to be contemplating believing you and all you were silently begging for was that he didn’t call Steve and Bucky, they just didn’t need this stress right now. Even though it was in his contract to call them at any sign of injury or illness but as Sam looked at you, other than looking tired, you seemed to be fine and still joking with him. Finally, he gave you a simple nod and you couldn't hold back the thankful sigh. “Do you mind if I go back to sleep for a little while longer or do you need me for anything?”

“You’ve been sleeping a lot recently”, he stated his earlier point again.

“What, so I’m not allowed to nap now?” you teased him with a subtle smile, hoping to crack his worried exterior. It only half worked as he shook his head to himself, standing up and pulling the fluffy blanket that had been left behind you on the couch and throwing it over your body. Before you could even thank him though, sleep had stolen you back into its resting state. 

Sleeping for a few more hours, Sam was nowhere to be seen but he usually liked to check the perimeter ever so often and speak to the other guards so you weren’t worried about his whereabouts. As you shuffled to the kitchen, you couldn’t tell if you felt any worse or better after all the sleeping, haven’t wasted another day feeling sorry for yourself, you tried to snap out of it by glancing through the refrigerator and cupboards and deciding to ssurpriseSteve and Bucky with a romantic meal.

The house was soon filled with delicious scents of sweet and savoury as you’d baked and were in the process of cooking their dinner. You were in your own little world and had only stumbled a handful of times with dizziness and the headache that was building was currently mild in comparison to others you had, it was fine you determined to yourself

Still lost in your own thoughts, you hadn’t even heard the front door open as you were suddenly enveloped by a muscular chest and arms, a smile aching your cheeks as you nuzzled back into Steve’s body. His lips danced over your cheek and down your neck as he held you close, the roughness of his beard comforting. “I didn’t hear you come in”, you commented, turning your head slightly to chase after his lips, sighing deeply in your chest as he held you tighter for a second, hands dipping beneath your shirt at your waist so that he could feel the warmth of your skin.

“I did shout”, he revealed whilst moving back to neck, not to kiss but just to smell you in, his body almost melting into the floor as he felt at home with the familiar scents. “I’ve missed you”, he whispered against your skin.

Goosebumps instantly flooded over your body as you shivered, turning in his arms to hug him properly, your fingers scratching through his hair that was beginning to curl at the ends where he’d allowed it to grow out over the winter months. “I’ve missed you too”, you whispered against his lips, lazily kissing and breathing each other in.

“Come with us tomorrow, I want you to be near me”, he admits with words that were making you cling to him harder.

You wanted to say yes and the word was on the tip of your tongue but then your thoughts drifted to the soup coming. “I’ve got a delivery coming that I can’t miss, I’m sorry”.

“The guards can get the delivery”, he counters.

“It’s fresh soup I want it whilst it’s hot”, an embarrassed smile finds its way to your lips as he leans his forehead against yours, his eyes closed as he just enjoyed the moment of the two of you being together.

“Soup? But we could order that to the office if you wanted it, you know that’s no issue”. 

You pout dramatically, hanging off his neck as you whisper with a childish tone, “But it won’t be the soup that I���ve ordered and want”.

Steve rolls his eyes but you know he's being playful, he could never find a reason to be upset with you. Rolling back his shoulders, he stands back to his full height, opening his eyes to cup your cheek with his massive hand but this was when he took you in and a frown dawned on his face just like it had on Sam’s. “Are you feeling ok?” The hand on your cheek moved towards your forehead, expecting to feel a temperature but it felt normal.

“I feel great”, you say with as much cheer in your tone as possible, still holding onto his neck but mostly because another wave of dizziness had rushed through you and you needed some support to stay standing.

Steve didn’t seem convinced, “You just … look a little off”.

You playfully rolled your eyes, similar to how he had just done, “Wow thanks Steve”.

“You know I didn’t mean it like that”.

“I know, I’m joking, I’m fine - really, it's nothing to worry about”. He eyes you and doesn’t fall for your grin so you tried your next trick up your sleeve. Leaning on your tip toes whilst pulling his face closer, you whispered against his lips, “I love you, Stevie”.

The tension momentarily eased from his shoulders as his grip around you tightened, “I love you too”.

“Sorry to interrupt your love fest but I want my own loving”, Bucky broadly announced from the entrance of the kitchen where he was leaning against the wall with his arms crossed, a twinkle of mischief in his blue eyes however as you pulled back from Steve and he could finally see your face, the happiness seeped from his face. “Woah, what happened? Are you ok?”

You gave a frustrated huff, finally releasing Steve’s neck as you pointed in the direction of the decorated table. “Right, both of you go and sit down before I decide you don’t deserve any food for being mean”.

Steve shuffled away first as you continued to cook the food, Bucky looking ashamed as he came over and kissed your cheek but before he could pull away, you quickly captured his lips in a kiss to show you’d been playing before and weren’t upset.

“Why are there only two plates on the table?”  Steve questioned as he took a seat.

Without looking over your shoulder at him, you casually answered, “I’ve already had mine, I wasn’t sure when you were both going to be home and I didn’t want to wait”. They both seemed to accept your lie and you happily sat with them as they ate, asking about how the deals were going. They both seemed to be agreed that they were sure to have contracts signed tomorrow and had even been able to pay off some of the international police so that shipping of the goods could occur. In truth, after the soup, you were not feeling at all remotely hungry and even the smell of the cooked food had turned your stomach over.

A couple of hours later, the three of you were preparing for bed. Steve is in the middle and you are to his right and Bucky is to his left. You and the mafia boss had been kissing deeply for a couple of minutes, his hands beneath your shirt, brushing against your breasts, rough fingertips peaking your nipples as you ground down on his thigh. You were soaked and he could feel the evidence of it as you weren’t wearing any underwear but the longer the touches and kisses went on for, the more you were feeling unwell.

As his teeth tugged on your bottom lip and he began to trail open-mouthed kisses over your jaw and down your throat, you noticed Bucky was doing the same thing but to Steve’s neck from behind. However, there were two Bucky’s instead of one as your vision swayed and it felt as if you were on a water bed with how unsteady you felt. The headache was close to a full-blown migraine as well now which only continued to make you feel nauseous so even though there was nothing more you wanted than to continue where this intimacy was leading but, for once, you had to stop it.

“Wait, just- just one moment”, you pushed against Steve's shoulders at the same time. The blonde's hold on you loosened as he moved his face back to look into your eyes but you’d closed them, trying to hide your face from him and Bucky who had also sat up further to check on you. “I just- sorry I’m tired and I… I’m not sure- sorry.. I don’t think-”.

Steve’s fingers tipped your chin up to look at him as he smiled softly down at you, “If you don’t want to do anything, we don’t have to. If you’re tired then I’ll just hold you close, ok? Please don’t apologise for not wanting any of this”.

You relaxed in his arms, feeling grateful for him but also bad that you could feel how aroused he was against your stomach. “Thank you. I’m just feeling so tired today. Please don’t let me stop you both, continue without me, I just want to go to sleep”.

“You don’t have to give us reasons why you don’t want to do it, baby, we’ll do whatever you want to do. Me and Buck don’t have to fuck if you want to be held, I don’t want you thinking we’re neglecting you”.

Affection and love warmed your heart as you kissed Steve’s lips and then reached over his shoulder to kiss Bucky. “I love you both but seriously please continue, I like watching you both anyway so that’ll satisfy me enough if I’m not asleep by that point anyway”.

They both gave their love back to you with praises and pecks to your face before rolling away from you and beginning their exploration of each other's bodies. You watched with a smile on your face for a couple of moments and your core ached with need but as a burst of pain pounded through your temple, your eyes shut automatically to help ease the pain and from there, they never opened again as sleep took you soon after.

The next morning, your migraine had gone but your entire body felt weak and drained of any energy. Steve and Bucky took one look at you and determined that they’d be working from home, wishing to remain near you but they still needed the comfort of their home office upstairs whereas you remained downstairs, pretending to watch TV.

Somehow, you had continued to hide your seasonal illness, they just thought you still looked peaky. Today was the worst you’d felt so far, even having to use the wall as support whilst walking around the home, silently coughing into cushions so that the boys wouldn’t hear upstairs and this only increased the sharp pain shooting through your chest.

At lunchtime, Sam came over to visit and found you at the table in the kitchen, head lying against the table top as you dipped in and out of sleep. You were too tired to even pretend to joke and thankfully for once he didn’t pester you with being unwell, especially knowing Steve and Bucky were home, he assumed they had seen how bad you were so he just sat next to you at the table, easing his hand under your head so you had some comfort against the hard surface.

Soon after, Rafael knocked on the front door with your soup delivery. Usually h,e would stay at the door, never coming into your home but Sam insisted that he come out of the cold and deliver the soup to you in person.

“Yay!” you croaked, reaching out for the warm container, seeing the soup within and seeing that it was a deep red colour today, possibly tomato.

“I didn’t know you cooked, Rafael”, Sam noted, taking his seat next to yours once more as the new guard stayed standing at the head of the table. Other than Natasha, Sam was the lead of the security and guards and technically Rafael’s boss.

“Oh yeah, he used to be a chef”, you explained to Sam, whilst opening the lid of the container, smelling the delicious food and confirming your theory that it was tomato soup.

“Chef? I didn’t know you worked as a chef”, Sam remarked with a frown, eyeing Rafael with confusion as he’d been the one to complete the job interview and didn’t remember seeing chef on his CV.

Rafael casually shrugged his shoulders, looking somewhat tense at the questioning but still forced a smile to his face to please his boss. “I didn’t think it was relevant to the job, to be honest”.

“We’ll have to get you on the bbq when the weather perks up, maybe that’ll stop the arguments between Steve and Bucky”, Sam mused over the thought.

You tried to chuckle but the exhaustion had you slumping against the table as you mumbled, “I feel like shit”.

Sam tensed next to you, “Maybe we should call a doctor. You know, I’m surprised Steve and Bucky aren’t down here right now looking after you, do they even know how bad you’re feeling today?”

“Wait, they’re both here?” Rafael asked Sam but he ignored him, his focus solely on you.

Once again you’re too tired to think of an answer and shrug your shoulders, turning your head to look up at Rafael, “I think the fairies like me too much”.

“Fairies?”, Sam questions thinking that you’d become delirious.

You smile genuinely to Sam, reaching to tap his shoulder, “Inside joke Sam, keep up”.

There was no further discussion of fairies as more hacking coughs ripped through you. It took a couple of moments and Sam rushed to get you a glass of water before you slumped back against the table in exhaustion.

“Why don’t you have the soup and then see how you’re feeling later? Maybe the rest is all you need”, Rafael suggested, filling the silence with his voice.

You couldn’t see it but Sam gave his employee a scathing look, “Rest is all she’s been doing. I’m calling the doc and then I’m going upstairs to tell Steve and Bucky”.

“Aren’t they busy?” Rafael continued to question Sam. “I’ve heard they’ve got that deal coming up from Italy and France, they might appreciate it if you wait a little bit before calling Doctors”.

Sam’s voice was quiet and stern but you were too tired to notice. “That’s not common knowledge, how do you know that?”.

Massaging your temples with the pounding thuds that hadn’t stopped since your coughing fit, you decided that Rafael was right, usually sleep made you feel better. Reaching for the soup one more, you opened the container as you addressed your bodyguard, “he’s right Sam. I just need today for all the work stuff to be over and then I’ll call the doctor. The boys don’t need any distractions, especially today, one more day isn’t going to kill me”.

Sam didn’t look happy as you began to idly sip on the thick, delicious soup. As you thanked Rafael for the meal, Sam finally looked back to him, his frown deep and unmoving as he asked, “Don’t you have work to do?”

Rafael’s spine straightened, “Oh yeah, right. Sorry, sir” and with that, he left to return to work.

“You don’t have to be so bossy you know, he’s just trying to help”, you tried to reason with Sam.

However, your friend ignored you and moved to hold your hand to pull your attention away from the meal and towards him. “I’m giving you until the evening, wait no- if you get any worse before the evening, I am calling the Doc, no arguments, understand?”

“Yes sir”, you say with a little salute.

Finishing your soup, your boyfriends finally came downstairs and you attempted to straighten your posture and plaster a fake smile on your face. Bucky paused in the entryway, sniffing the air and asking, “What’s that smell, I know it's from somewhere but can’t put my finger on it”.

“Is it my soup?” you say, trying to stand up and act like the floor was spinning beneath you.

“No, it’s not that”, he pondered, still looking around and trying to smell whatever he recognised but couldn’t pick it up again. Steve and Bucky both walked past you, kissing the back of your head as you casually explained that you were going to lie down for a little bit. “Wait, let me come with you-”, Bucky started but you held out your hand to stop him.

“You’ve got a busy time at work and I’ve got Sammy boy here anyway so you two continue with your work and we’ll have a nice evening in, Ok?”

“Yes Ma’am”, he mutters before continuing to make his lunch. It wasn’t often that he listened to your instructions but both men were so busy and overwhelmed with work and the consequences that could come from it all that they were all over the place.

The next hour passed by slowly and you didn’t manage to sleep even for a moment because your symptoms were making you feel so awful. You were wheezing so bad that each breath felt like you were suffocating, your eyes began to roll with how much the room was spinning and a violent tremble rocked through your entire body, you didn’t feel right, something was wrong and it was beginning to scare you.

“Sam?” your voice was nothing more than a rasping whisper but he still was able to hear you from where he had been on the phone with the doctor from across the room, having noticed your deterioration in health. He was kneeling by your side in a couple of broad steps, the phone balancing between his cheek and shoulder as he rested a hand on your temple, feeling your spiked temperature. “I don’t feel good”, you admitted, voice full of terror before more coughs ruptured through your chest, leaving you struggling to breathe.

“Steve! Bucky get down here right now!”

“No… no, I just need to sleep”, the fear had disappeared from your voice as you wished for the exhaustion to take you completely, hoping that in sleep you wouldn't feel the pain destroying your insides.

“Hey! No!  Don’t go t sleep, need you to stay awake for me, Doctor Banner is on his way but you can’t go to sleep”, Sam urgently tapped your face, rousing you from the sleep as Bucky had all but jumped down the entire flight of stairs at the shouting.

“What’s going on- What the fuck? Doll?” he replaced where Sam was so that he could continue to explain to the doctor what was happening.

“I’m just not feeling ok, it’s fine Bucky go back to work”, you were somewhat delirious, still not really opening your eyes but leaning into the coldness from Bucky’s hand as he cupped your face. Bucky looked to Sam for answers, his eyes bright and alert with fury and worry.

When Sam shrugged his shoulders, not having any answer as to why you were suddenly so unwell, Bucky quickly turned back to you and assessed your deteriorating health and noticed just how laboured your breathing had become. As he spoke, it was with surprising gentleness but still held authority, “I need you to take a deep breath for me, honey, I want you to try and fill your lungs with air”.

“I’m trying, it’s just seasonal illness, it’ll be ok”.

“What are you talking about?” Bucky asks, not letting go of your face but just moving in closer.

“It’s just seasonal”, your words began to slur as you became incoherent.

Steve finally descended the stairs with just as much purpose as Bucky as he demanded to know what was going on but Bucky couldn’t answer him as he continued to talk to you and keep you awake. “It’s not seasonal, you’re not breathing properly, it’s not-”. Bucky was leaning so close that he was able to smell your breath and he froze, it looked like he now wasn’t even breathing.

“What is it Bucky?” Steve demanded, kneeling next to him and reaching over to take your hand but also feel your pulse, which only made his own increase with worry.

Bucky leans closer and smells your mouth again, so close that you tried to move away as his nose nudged your lips. “What did you eat?” Bucky asked in a tone that forced your eyes to open with concern.

“Huh? Um just my soup”, you say whilst blinking quickly as he still wouldn’t come into focus.

“Soup? Where is it? Where’s the container?” before you could answer, he was on his feet and running into the kitchen as Steve continued to demand answers from his boyfriend, his hand now moving from your wrist to directly over your heart, continuing to count the beats.

Bucky cursed so violently that it actually made you shrink into the cushions but the movement only made you cough more and chest tighten as you struggled to breathe. He returned to the room, his face a deathly white and green shade as he uttered just one word: “Hemlock”.

There was just one brief second where not a body in the room breathed or even moved, one single second to process the poison that Bucky had spoken, the planet that he only knew about because of his time as the Winter Soldier and using it on his target. The poison that he could now smell on your breath, that originated from your container of soup.

It was Sam to speak first, Sam to snap the two men out of their frozen states as he gave the orders from Doctor Banner who had heard the word over the phone. “We need to get her to a hospital right now”.

Steve picked you up, and his entire body began to tremble with adrenaline and fear as no one even stopped to properly dress for the snow outside, only putting their shoes on before rushing to the car. Sam thankfully was able to use the adrenaline to remain headstrong as he climbed into the driver’s side of the car so that Steve and Bucky could both hold you in the back seats and try and keep you awake.

You were lying with your head in Steve’s lap with your body lying across Bucky’s as they clamped their arms around you as makeshift seatbelts. You had heard the word that Bucky had said and even though you knew what it was, you didn’t want to believe it, even as you continued to feel worse. “It’s not poison, it’s just soup”.

However, those words triggered something within your throat and once more you were coughing so hard that you thought you were going to vomit and cringed as metallic warmth filled your mouth and leaked out of the corner of your lips.

You slumped onto Steve and Bucky, head lulling back but Steve was quick to grab your face, tapping it and forcing you to stay awake, “Baby don’t go to sleep! Please stay awake for me! Stay with us, we’ll be at the hospital soon, I promise”.

You were scared, even though you were half-conscious, you were terrified now realising the severity of the situation, knowing that you were coughing up blood which was now soaking the front of Steve’s shirt and hearing how panicked your boyfriends were only made it worse. Through all the scary, dangerous times in your life, they always remained calm and in control but now they were both frantic and frightened. 

As all three men continued to plead with you to stay awake, you forced yourself to open your eyes, only allowing yourself the luxury of blinking occasionally as you kept looking into Steve’s ocean-blue eyes. With his body and face so close to yours, you used him to ground you in the situation, trying to copy his breathing which had slowed since you’d opened your eyes; ignoring the pain from the breaths and resisting the urges to cough even though blood continued to fill your mouth.

“Am I going to die?” you whisper, not being able to ignore the questions now in the back of your mind anymore.

Steve’s breath hitched for a second before he tried to confidently whisper, “No, you’re not going to die”.

You didn’t believe him, especially as the trip to the hospital was delayed by the snow, every second feeling like it could be your worse, you didn’t want it to end like this.

“I love you.”

“You’re going to be ok, just keep looking at Steve, keep breathing”, Bucky pleaded, squeezing your freezing cold hand.

“Please, just say it back”, your voice was hardly audible anymore as your mouth was so full of blood.

“Stop talking and save your energy for when you’re feeling better”, Bucky tried to keep his composure but you knew he was close to snapping.

Your breaths were wet and laboured, wheezing so violently it rattled and echoed around the car but you still managed to plead, “Say it back-”.

“I love you, I love you so fucking much, please don’t leave me, baby”. Steve snapped first, his eyes were wide, fearful and yet beautiful with how stark the blue was as his eyes filled with tears, leaking down his cheek and into his beard.

You were thankful, for both of them, for everything and you wish you could have told them, wishing that you could have heard Bucky’s own declaration of love and adoration for you but the pounding of your heartbeat became so loud in your head that you couldn’t hear anything anymore.

But you continued to hold on, never once looking away from those pretty eyes of Steve’s as Sam finally screeched to a halt outside of the hospital. Once more, Steve carried you and there was a flurry of people in different coloured scrubs suddenly surrounding you as you were placed onto a cold bed.

One moment you were staring into Steve’s eyes and the next you were looking up at a stranger and the comfort you’d once felt, the thing that was grounding you to life was now gone and you couldn’t find him again, no matter how much you moved on the bed, even as the strangers poked and prodded at your body until you couldn’t deal with it anymore and finally closed your eyes.

Do you ever have those naps where you wake up and forget where you are, or what time or day it is? That was currently how you felt except the added sensation of floating encompassed your body as well. The only sort of normality felt throughout your body was a cool feminine hand stroking across your temple in a soothing, repetitive manner.

Your toes wiggled firstly and then your eyes behind your eyelids and even though you knew who was stroking your forehead, you still croakily asked, “Steve? Bucky?”

“It’s just me Sugar” Natasha sounded calm and peaceful as her fingers didn’t stop with their soothing motions. “The boys are going to be so pissed that you’re awake before they’ve got back”.

You huff and dared to open your eyes, grunting at the brightness of the room but thankfully your eyes adjusted and only one, still, Natasha smiled down at you. Seeing that you weren’t going to vomit or freak out, Natasha sat back in her chair, moving to hold onto your hand to give you some comfort. “You gave us a real scare”.

You thought back to everything that happened, some of it was a blur but most of it still played through your mind like a horror movie that you couldn’t look away from or escape. “Was I really poisoned?”

There was one thing that you appreciated about Natasha and that was her blunt honesty, not one to ever sugarcoat her words, “You were”.

“But… But how? I mean… the soup, Rafael, he wouldn’t-”. You stopped yourself talking, trying to envision all the interactions you’d had with him but only one thing repeated through your thoughts: Don’t trust anyone. That was one of the first rules Steve had taught you. “I don’t understand why? He seemed so nice to me, is his name even Rafael? Was everything a lie?”

“That’s what they’re just finding out. Apparently, the friend of a friend rouse was made up including his credentials, usually, our background checks are very thorough but he had some help to slip through the cracks”.

“Do you know what help he had? Who it was, I mean?”

Natasha for once seemed to think before she spoke which unnerved you, knowing that whoever’s name she spoke next wouldn’t be good news.

The monitor displaying your heartbeat began to beep as it increased with the dread that was settling through your body.

“All signs are currently pointing to Pierce”.

Your eyes closed as you tried to remember how to breathe. You knew about Alexander Pierce. Everyone did. He was ruthless and had plenty of finances and power to pay for his success but not only this, he had been one of the top employees of Hydra and usually in charge of the Winter Soldier. So yes, you all knew a lot about Alexander Pierce and his name was one to send fear through any of those involved in the Rogers mafia, even Steve.

As you opened your eyes again to look at Natasha, you could tell she wanted to tell you more but was holding the information to not panic you further but you needed to know. “Please just tell me whatever it is you’re not telling me”.

“We think he paid this guy to come and spy on Steve and Bbucky and it seems he put his sights on you. Specifically.. Because you’re their biggest weakness and it seemed like everyone knows that”.

Your face warmed with fear and anger, as fear prickled the corner of your eyes, “So what, now I’m not even safe in my own home?”

“That’s not-” Tasha began to lean forward in her seat but another voice cut her off.

“No, you weren’t safe in your own home”. Steve stood at your hospital room door, dressed casually in a black shirt and jeans, looking nothing out of the ordinary but his face was wrath of calm and anger. Your eyes snapped from him to Bucky who had looked just as serious but as your eyes connected with his, the hard lines of his face smoothed out into a weak smile.

The two of them step into the room as Natasha stands, informing everyone that she’d give us some space and guard the door.

You’re trying desperately to keep the tears at bay, to keep them from slipping and cascading down your cheeks, not wanting your boyfriends to feel any more guilt but as you took a deep breath in, a sob erupts through you and you can’t keep the emotions back anymore.

You attempted to hide your face with your hands, even with the added difficulty of having tubes and wires attached to the backs of your hands and the tips of your fingers. The realities of everything that had happened began to destroy any hope that you had. You’d nearly died, in your own home where you were supposed to be most safe.

Steve and Bucky sat on either side of your hospital bed, moving silently as they always did and with careful ease, gently took a hand each and pried them away from your face, stroking away any tears that continued to escape.

“I’m sorry, I just- I don’t know… It’s a lot”, you tried to give reason for your crying, even though it was unnecessary. Bucky tilted your face towards him, his voice was so soft and caring that it nearly made you sob with how careful he was being with you, “Don’t apologise for crying, I tell you this all the time, Doll”.

You offered him a wet giggle, taking a few deep breaths before rambling on with your anxiety, “I bet I look like a right mess right now, I don’t even know how long I’ve been asleep for”.

They let you calm yourself down before Steve praises with his low captivating voice, “You always look beautiful, no matter how much snot is on your face”. He smiles as he manages to make you laugh before he turned serious, “It’s been 5 days, baby”.

Your face drops, “5… I’ve been asleep for 5 days?!”

“You passed out when we arrived and when they could finally stop the bleeding you-”

“Bleeding?” you questioned, remembering you were bleeding from the mouth but it didn’t seem like that much.

“The poison you’d ingested that day was a higher dose and caused internal bleeding. After they were able to stabilise you, they needed to detox you from the poison and make sure your body was healing so it was safe to keep you asleep”.

You tried to process everything that Steve had told you, it felt confusing for you to have been through so much and yet feel such little pain in your body.

As if reading your mind, Bucky once again captivated your attention as he asked, “How are you feeling? Are you in pain?”

“No I’m not in any pain but I feel wrong like my body is floating in the water or something”.

“That might be due to the medications that they’ve got you on, they’re pretty strong Sweetheart”, his pet name helped to calm your disorientated mind, clinging on to the familiarity and focusing on the way both of their hands were holding yours and stroking tiny circles in your skin,

“Did you get the answers you wanted, from Rafael, or whatever his name is”.

Steve and Bucky shared a glance between each other but Steve decided to be the one to answer. “We got the answers, it was as Nat was explaining. Pierce wanted someone in the gang, spying and getting as close to us as possible and I guess they somehow managed to weasel their way in and tried to succeed with their plan to hit our weak spot”.

You took a deep breath to try and reduce the rising anxiety in the pit of your stomach before asking tentatively, “So what happens now? With Pierce I mean.”

“That’s a problem for another time, just need you to get better first”, Bucky interjected, lifting your hand to kiss the few fingers that were attached with clips or wires.

You tried to smile at him, wanting him to know how much you appreciate him but the feeling never met your eyes and this seemed to twist something in Steve and Bucky. Both of their demeanours changed, no longer were you looking at just your boyfriends but also the mafia boss and his second in command, mixing business with family.

Bucky began talking first, tone strong and husky, “This isn’t something we are taking likely. Sam’s already spent the last day and a half revisiting everyone’s past, making sure there are no other moles that have slipped through the cracks. No new faces are allowed anywhere near our home or you.”

As he spoke, you managed sure to nod your head and try to squeeze his hand in understanding. Steve shifted in his chair, capturing your attention as he continued the discussion. “You are safe and you should have been safe but we let you down, you were vulnerable when we weren’t there to protect you like we promised we would. We let you down, we broke our promise, we could understand if you didn’t want-”.

“Whatever you’re about to say you better forget about it right now”, you say sternly, heartbeat beginning to race on the monitor again as Steve’s mouth shut quickly with a snap. “The idea of being your weakness has always frightened me but, I could also be your greatest strength. I mean - Look at what you’ve been going just to protect the house, to protect me. I know you feel like you’ve let me down but I don’t feel let down in any way. Yes, of course, what’s happened is scary, especially in our home but I doubt it’ll ever happen again. They can try and tear us apart, they can try, but they won’t break us, they can’t break us. We have to remain on top ok? I always feel safe and trusted when I’,m with you both so please, don’t ever feel like I'm not because I am. I’ll always love you both, I’m not going anywhere”.

You sucked in air greedily after your short speech, the building emotions spilling freely everything you truly believed to the men beside you, not wishing for them to ever feel doubt for the relationship or how you felt.

Looking between them both, your heart sank as you noticed Bucky quickly wipe the corner of his eye. “I thought you said no more tears”, you spoke softly whilst trying to wipe away a stray tear.

“That’s before you decided to swoon me with your speech”, he quipped back, the light returning to his eyes once more as you laughed.

“I love you Bucky”.

“I love you, Doll”, standing from his chair, his metal hand stroked over the side of your face as he captured your lips with his, lingering for a few beautiful seconds before sitting back down.

Steve had lifted your hand during your speech and was kissing your palm and you reached out to stroke his beard, “I love you, Steve”.

He too stood, just as Bucky had but he kissed your forehead first, breathing you in for a moment before doing the same against your lips. “I love you too, so much baby”.

As Steve sat back down, your eyes began to feel heavy, all of the strong emotions exhausted you completely. “Will you both be here when I wake up? Not that I’m complaining about Natasha but she doesn’t spoon me like you both do”.

They both chuckle under their breath before Steve promises, “We aren’t going anywhere, sleep, Sweetheart”.

[chlmtsdoll]

more of I was an angel just bc 🤍 18+ | shower smut | fluff

It wasn’t a surprise that you had woken up in Arts white T, fit with the smell of fresh linen the next morning.

As you lie sprawled out on your back, the cotton wrapped your skin but also the aroma filled your senses on the frosty winter morning outside, to contrast with how steamy last night with the two men had been. What was a surprise was that last night you assumed you would wake up back in your own bed. Alone and to rise within the empty sheets — But when you opened your eyes to face the day, you were met with the sight to your left and right of not just short golden locks, but also dark curly ones as well.

Art and Patrick hadn’t left you, instead they must of dozed off not too long after tucking you in. — it couldn’t have been a sweeter way to persevere the night you all had. The smell of vanilla mixed with the blend of oaky sent of wood hadn’t just been coming from the t-shirt on you, but beside you. Turning to face the blonde sleeping in peace, your sleepy expression turned into lips being spread into a smile as you ran your finger tips lightly through his soft hairs facing you. And Art had easily felt your touch. After a yawn, he opened his eyes gently, a sideways grin taking upon his lips. Half tired, half risen on his icy blue.

“Morning, sleepy head.”

“I woke up before you.” You laughed.

“Yeah, but you fell asleep before me.”

You beamed more at the note of his voice, raspy but filled with sweetness in the mornings. You wanted to cherish every part of it during times like this when he wasn’t waking up next to Tashi just to go and face the word of tennis and people who never got him like this. Tender and completely defenseless for you. “You guys stayed..” your tone was quite but filled with fondness as your finger tips went to trace over Arts nose and cheeks.

“I didn’t want you to feel like we had treated you like some one night stand, and left to go play pool and spades or some shit.” The blonde chuckled. He took your hand up to his lips and kissed your wrists with lovingkindness and your heart could of exploded right then, your lips curved into a soft pout as you leaned in to leave a kiss on Arts soft lips. Smiling through your pecks as he held you there against his.

You felt safe going into it, you didn’t doubt for a second that the two boys would of made you feel obligated in any way that you’d just been used. Even if you weren’t always all knowing of Patrick’s intentions — you knew with Arts impression on him he knew how to be just as sensitive, even if he struggled to show it. You knew you’d be fine, and taken care of.

“How long till you think he’ll be up?” You gestured to the brunette who was seemingly sleeping faced away from the two of you.

“Well, that depends-” Art leaned up from your embrace to kick the other man’s leg and you covered your mouth with laughter. “..If he’s been listening to us the entire time or not.”

“Fuck off!” Patrick looked over the sheets and crowed pillows to glare at the blonde. “I was waiting for your sap fest to end so I could hear more about myself,”

“You sleep like a bear y’know.. like one of the ones right outside in the forest, for fucks sake.” You commented as Patrick narrowed at you and Art couldn’t help but laugh at your assertion.

“Yeah ? Well we both know you loved to climb this bear last night..” Patrick snapped back with a grin.

And before you could protest Art scoffed “alright, alright..”

Patrick only shook his head as his grin stayed put on his face and Art rolled his eyes even though he kept a light simper on his lips — you could always see just how much he adored Patrick, even with all of his annoyances he was just glad he had the presence of the brunette around time to time.

“I’m starving,” you sighed as you sat up as well.

“Yeah. What are you making us for breakfast, daddy?” Patrick nudged the other man as he propped up from the bed with a grin and Art shoved his hand away playfully.

“I think you need a bath first, baby,” Art glanced at you then to Patrick beside. “We all do. Especially you.. I just know you’re disgusting.”

“I take that as a compliment.” The darker haired man shrugged as he relaxed against the messed up sheets and wrinkled comforter. Arts eyes had peered down at your legs, so tiny to him, and his mind started to worry of the aftermath from last night. He’d pondered if you’d been alright although you said you were fine. Patrick was rough with you, and they hadn’t given your petite body much of a break really.

“Can you walk, pretty girl? I can carry you if not…” Art began as his brows furrowed in concern and when your doting eyes met his, smiling at the way he cared so much that you weren’t in any discomfort emotionally or physically.

“I’m fine, don’t worry.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah..” you lifted yourself up from the bed and stepped on the ground. Your calves were for sure a bit wobbly, and your thighs shook for a minute as you stood up — but overall you were perfectly shape. You stood and turned to both men with a sly smile across your face. “See. Good as new.”

The blonde chuckled as he observed you, “you’re so small I forget your a professional dancer and tennis player.” He grinned.

“Flexible.” Patrick added in a low ring as his eyes grazed over your toned legs, and he had a defining smirk on his face.

“Although, I could use your help to bathe..” your eyes flickered over the two, and your wide-eyes pleaded in a way they both had read as a signal towards your innocent smile that had a lace of minx to it.

You turned on your heels to approach the bathroom that was huge, if not as big as the bedroom itself. The shower taking up a good quarter of the room and when Art and Patrick had both entered, naked and standing godly as they rushed in to accompany you — you reached to lift off Arts shirt that you had been wearing, but the blonde stepped in to help you anyways. Arms lifting above you to reveal your bare body to match theirs, Patrick had been fumbling to turn on the shower head as he fought to watch Art look at you like you were heaven sent just to make this whole trip a little more fun for them.

Your smile was pretty. And you sunk your lip between your teeth as you watched Arts gentle eyes settle on you beneath him. His shirt was somewhere else again by the time you finally gave away to his ardor to make your way to the shower with Patrick.

“Will you help me with my hair ?” He heard you murmur sweetly to the brunette which he nodded all too quick as the water ran and began to heat up on you both. Your eyes met the blonde again provokingly, making him have to almost force himself from staring at just the way your angelic body moved towards Patrick’s six three stature without any caution in the world. He practically raced over to join you both.

Art stepped the tiles and got close to where the two of you’d been under the steamy water. Eyeing the way your delicate hand had been placed on Patrick’s chest, now wet and looking devout as the man peered down at you, his own hand went to entangle in your waves. Both of the men’s eyes darkened quickly, and it couldn’t go unnoticed at all the way their pretty cocks stood up at just the sight of you.

Your little figure glistening underneath the warm water. Your ass looking impeccable as you noticed the way their hard ons only grew as moments went on and you would reward yourself praise for the way you just kept egging them on, you turned to face Art. You brought a finger to your lips and lightly grazed your skittish small smile.

Art couldn’t help but laugh a little at it all, his grin returned, the blonde looked down at you and he viewed the way you looked at him in a pleading manner. To be touched.

“You just never get tired do you?”

It was more like you couldn’t get enough.

“I already slept.” was all you muttered and your soft giggle echoed off the fogged glass around the three of you. You stood on the tip of your toes to reach up and grab on to the other tall man so he would smooch you, Art cradled you body in his and leaned into the kiss while a low grown exited his throat. You pulled away as you felt Patrick’s towering presence nearing behind you,

“You just don’t how much of a fucking tease you are. What you can do to a man, let alone two — what we could do to you.. it’s dangerous.” The darker haired man warned into your ear, his voice a seductive kind of low that made you nearly moan right there. It sent shivers down your spine. You looked over your shoulder to meet his sage irises

“Show me.” Was all you needed to say for Patrick to give Art a look as his smirk spoke messages you couldn’t even comprehend, but Art knew all too well — he picked you up in one swift motion, your legs gone to wrap around his waist, and you smiled with a flirtatious flicker in your eye as you held his broad shoulders tightly. He felt the warmth of your thighs, trailing his fingers to line his dick up to your entrance.

“Already soaked. You’re such a naughty greedy girl, just can’t stop thinking about being filled with cock constantly. Huh ?” Art practically grunted as he felt your wetness just graze him before he started to pushed into you, which made your lips fall agape as you moaned through a breathy dazed smile and you nodded.

“Mmm, yeah.” Your skin was hot. Your pussy had taken Art like a glove almost immediately as he held your ass in his own hands, and you sunk down hungrily with ease — it was until the blonde reached for the other lean man behind you, a grasp of his shoulder making him inch forward to the both of your bodies, and you then felt Patrick’s cock just inches from your heat. You sunk your teeth into your sugary bottom lip as you had put together what was about to happen. Your eyes went soft with a burning sensation of need but also edginess. The brunette’s hands go to your slim little waist as he let himself to your dripping core, feeling you up and your mouth had opened to let out a little sigh of relief before he started to sink into your hole with a deep groan escaping his own. You body immediately started to shake and jerk with the urge to actually lose the feeling in your legs now.

It stung and it stretched your small enclosure in the most delightfully and pleasant way even though,

“Oh ! O-oh.. fuck.. - my god,” you closed your eyes tight and you never felt more full in your whole life. Whimpering out like your life depended on it. You’d been meshed between the two men as the hot shower proceeded around you all while you were getting filled up with dick as the heat rose. Arts face has contorted in pleasure and he let a noise slip from his lips as palmed your face so you’d look at him.

“Be good. Take it like my sweet, sweet little girl, I know you can for me” He panted out as he stared to fuck up into you and the other man thrusted without any hesitation — making your wet cunt their own mess now. Your whines were high pitched and the feeling was like ecstasy as the blondes hands went to run over your figure and he nibbled at your neck, while the other ran a tongue over your exposed skin and your head went dizzy.

Arts back had hit the glass of the shower and Patrick’s free hand had beat against that as well and you’d all been in synchronized moans to the thrash of movement against the shower. Your aching pussy being rutted into senselessly, you feel as if your were trembling from the inside out and pink nails dug into the glossy skin of Arts back as you let out choked cries. Both men practically holding you up as they fucked up your petite body, skin like soft butter being ruled by sweat now between their lofty gallant frames.

“I’m gonna cum, I’m gonna cum!” You warned, but there wasn’t any time to do much as you’d already been a trembling mess between the two, cries escaping your lips on instant as you let the high run through your body.

“Good girl, princess,” Art had palmed your ass in his much bigger hand as he felt your body cling to his and the men stilled with the way your warmth around them pulsed, gushing your arousal on to their members as you pulsed around the way their hardness throbbed inside of you

“Fuck, your clenching us so much, sweet girl.”

You had breathed out a soft titter as you released your legs from its tight grasps on Arts waist, he lifted your body as he slipped from your drooling cunt with a groan and so did the brunette. You effortlessly go down on your knees, melting with the marble tiles beneath you as both men still had full twitching cocks beyond you and your hand went to grasps them both. You saw Patrick release his head against the glass as he cursed under his breath and you watched as Arts tongue darted out to wet his lips. Your smile couldn’t have been more pretty and dainty contrast your hands that were doing the worst to their erections.

You wrap your lips around Art’s dick and let out a light moan as he immediately went to grasp at your hair. “Fuck, angel.” You looked up at him with pure eyes set on the way his mouth made the perfect ‘o’ shape at the way you throated him, sucking and whimpering on his cock like a slut just begging for it — your hand worked godly on Patrick and he watched you with a deep sulk noise of his own.

“Shit. I wanna feel that pretty mouth, me next.” He panted and your lips slid off of Art to run a tongue against Patrick and you observed him moan now with a smile on your lips. You sucked on him quick as you pumped Art and you knew by the way their veins had been bulging and burning to cum ropes right then you were getting them close.

“Your gonna make me cum, baby.” Art huffed and his eyes fluttered shut, your hand jerked him in sharp movements. Patrick couldn’t help but send his knuckles to your hair as well, you sunk him into your sweet mouth and your drool had covered his dick to the base. You tried not to gag as you eased up to focus on Art again, moving your hand in circular movements around his tip till the blonde palmed the shower handle beside him and he groaned while he came hard, white leaked on to your chest bellow and the two boys where a mess of noises from above. Patrick had started to cum too, the feeling being too great to grasps — Both of their seed slide down your breasts and it made you whimper just from the sight.

All panting harshly you run a clean stripe up Art again to get the last drip from his now twitching cock, never losing his eyesight as you did the naughty act on your tongue, a girlish giggle escapes you as he bent to lift you to your legs.

“Holy shit, you’re amazing.” Patrick shook his head and his heavy breathing caught up to him. He smacked your ass with a cheeky smile when you stood beyond them — it only made you stumble just a tad bit, but Art caught your movements as he let out a breathy chuckle of his own. The blonde intertwined your tender hands in his as he kissed your knuckles.

“Okay…let’s actually get you clean, little one.”

A/N: can you tell my love language (words of affirmation) by how much I love writing my favorite thing ever ? (dialogue)

[outofconcheol]

friends forever? (lmh x f!reader)

pairing: Minho x reader (afab)

genres/au/rating: fluff, humour, angst if you squint, brief smut, established relationship, 18+

summary: Minho has the difficult task of wooing someone very important to you.

warnings: CATS, a very confused Minho, swearing, mentions breakups, mentions periods, just lots of feels ok, smut warnings: brief oral (f receiving), kissing

word count: 1.9k

a/n: Where are all my cat people at? this idea came to me today and it was so cute i almost passed out (jk I did actually pass out today). i really said enough of Minho wooing reader, i want to see this man woo a cat and i made it happen! Also Lulu is one of my nicknames for my cat (but he's a boy). this is very unedited, I wrote it in like an hour but I hope you enjoy!

It’s past midnight when Minho notices the eyes for the first time. They peer at him from the endless darkness of the hallway and he looks around nervously, wondering if he should say something. In the corner of his eye, he can see you rustling around in the kitchen, cabinets opening and closing as you try to find some snacks for the both of you. If there’s an intruder in your apartment, you don’t seem perturbed, humming quietly to yourself.

He wonders if this is some kind of test from the universe, if some evil spirit’s been sent down so that he, as your newly-minted boyfriend, can prove that he’s brave and worthy of protecting you. But before he can whip out his ghost-busting skills, your sock-clad feet are padding towards him on the couch, a surprised gasp leaving your lips.

“Oh! I see you’ve met Lulu.”

Minho blinks once, twice, before following the sound of your voice, looking down over the edge of the couch. 

Those same eyes from the hallway blink up at him. It’s a cat. Your cat, fluffy fur and all, looking at Minho through narrowed eyes.

Immediately, he softens, silently relieved that he wouldn’t have to slay any demons tonight. Minho loved cats. He had three of his own waiting at home. He slides off the couch, dropping to his knees, extending an arm out.

“Hi there Lulu, I’m Minho. Nice to meet you.”

Lulu cocks her head, taking a few seconds to look Minho over, assessing him from head to toe. And then she… remains completely still, refusing to budge and accept the offer to smell Minho’s hand. Minho feels his heart drop, arm still outstretched with the hope that she’ll change her mind, but to no avail.

“Babe,” Minho zips his head in your direction, and you offer him a comforting squeeze to his arm. “Lulu takes a while to warm up to new people, it’s nothing personal. She never liked any of my exes.”

You giggle, pulling Minho back onto the couch with you so he can rest his head in your lap while you start the movie. Minho tries to focus on the film, but his mind remains elsewhere, darting over to the side where he sees Lulu sitting next to the couch. Eventually, she jumps up onto the cushions to join you, snuggling into your side, but maintaining a safe distance from Minho.

Minho resists the urge to overthink the interaction from earlier. He knew better than anyone that cats were temperamental beings, and that they required extra love and attention. So what if Lulu never warmed up to any of your exes? She’d warm up to him eventually, because he planned on sticking around for a long time. 

If you asked Minho the key to winning a cat’s heart, he’d tell you time. And maybe lots of treats. But mostly time. He thought time would be enough to heal the frosty first impression he’d left on Lulu, but every time he was over at your place, there she was around the corner, mean-mugging and making him feel guilty for crimes he didn’t commit.

He didn’t want to worry you with his silly beef with your cat, knowing that you loved her and she’d helped you through many hard times. 

So Minho, being the amazing boyfriend he was, tried to tackle the problem on his own.

He started with treats of course. The sizeable dent in his wallet from owning three cats only became all the more palpable when he’d buy an extra box from the pet store every week, hoping to woo over Miss Lulu with the five-star meal of some pureed chicken in a tube.

Lulu stared down the tube like it was a foreign object, before slapping her fluffy tail against Minho’s face, turning on her heels, and walking away.

She had the same reaction to the freeze-dried treats he tried the week after.

Then he theorized that maybe Lulu was averse to the smell of his own cats on him. So Minho kept an extra pair of clothes in his car all the time, one he’d change into before coming over. When he knocked at the door, he was met with your dazzling smile, cupping his face to press your lips to his, but as soon as it was over he caught sight of Princess Lulu running down the hallway away from him.

Months passed with Minho doing everything he could wrap his mind around what he could do win over the second most important person in your life (after him, of course). He’d even powered through a tense meeting between Lulu and Soonie, Doongie, and Dori, worried that his sons would scare her away, or even worse, hurt her, and that would be the end of you and Minho. But much to his surprise, Lulu played happily with the boys, even letting Dori tackle her and lick her fur.

And so began Minho’s mutual grudge against your cat. He did his best to hide it, but the lack of acceptance from Lulu was getting to him, like an arrow through his heart. He wondered if he could survive years by your side with a cat that hated him, but one look at your sparkly eyes and pretty smile told him that yes, this was worth it. You were worth it.

So Lulu ignored Minho. And Minho ignored Lulu. And both of them continued on in their own little worlds, centered around you. 

Minho slams his lips against yours, pushing you up against the door of your bedroom, smirking when he feels your lips part in a soft moan. The two of you make out lazily against the door for a few moments, until you’re both breathless and panting, Minho stepping back to admire the handiwork he’d left on your neck, the angry marks disappearing underneath the neckline of your shirt. 

Minho runs his thumb over your lip, watching your eyes go dark with desire, and in no time at all, you’re pinned underneath him on the bed, legs dangling with Minho in between them. He wastes no time diving in, eating you out with fervor until you’re writhing against his face, a wave of pleasure building inside you.

Only for it all to come crashing down seconds later, when he suddenly stops. You let out a pathetic whine, running your fingers through Minho’s hair while he remains crouched in between your thighs.

“Min, baby what’s wrong?” you lift his chin up so he’s looking at you, and the look in his eyes is so starkly different from a few minutes ago, his face pale.

“She’s watching us,” he whispers, like he’s seen a ghost.

You follow his line of sight to the top of the dresser, where Lulu is now perched, tail tucked underneath her butt, eyes narrowing at you and Minho.

“Just ignore her, babe,” you nudge his head between your legs again. Minho gives a few tentative licks to your folds, but lets out a heavy sigh, sitting back on his knees.

“I can’t.” And he looks so unbelievably guilty it makes your heart melt. You lean forward and press a kiss to his cheek, before throwing on his discarded shirt, softly padding over to where Lulu rests.

“Hey pretty girl,” you coo at her, cradling her in your arms. “How about we go drink some water, huh?”

Minho sits on the edge of the bed, legs crossed and head in his hands. He doesn’t hear you come back inside, jumping slightly when you throw your arms around him, burying your face into the crook of his neck.

“She doesn’t hate you,” your voice is muffled, nuzzling your nose against his jaw.

“She does,” Minho whines, trying not to let his voice break. “She literally won’t accept any treats from me. Every time you have period cramps, she glares at me like she’s saying “It’s your fault, asshole.” She even plays with Changbin more than me. And he’s allergic! She hates me and you’re going to break up with me because I can’t get along with your cat.”

“Why would I break up with you, silly?” you giggle. “I love you.”

Minho grabs you by the shoulders, cupping your cheeks in his hands, shock on his face.

“Y-you do?”

You nod your head, reaching up to grab his hand with your own.

“I love you, Lee Minho. And Lulu too. My heart is big enough for both of you.”

Minho feels better after that night, his anxieties melting away, and he thinks that maybe, just maybe, he can survive this impasse with Lulu.

Until you ask him to do the unthinkable.

“Please Minho? It’s just for one night.” you beg him. Something urgent had come up for work, and you needed to take an overnight trip to handle it. Which meant Minho had to stay home with Lulu.

Minho wants to protest, saying the little brat will be fine, but then you pout. And it’s game over. He’s agreeing before he can think it through.

So you leave, the door clicking behind you, and Minho sits on the couch, Lulu across the room from him, the two of them staring each other down much like the first time they’d met. He takes meticulous care to fill up her food bowl and clean out her litter box, his heart doing a flutter when she doesn’t refuse either.

But she remains at her safe distance, and Minho is alone on the couch, missing the warmth of your presence next to him. He clicks through a few tv channels, before turning the TV off, throwing his hoodie on and slipping out onto your balcony, making sure to leave the door slightly ajar in case something happened to Lulu.

He sits with his knees curled to his chest, watching the city lights twinkle, until he hears a soft whine. He turns to see Lulu across from him on the balcony, maintaining her healthy distance, but staring at him with curious eyes.

“You’re a tough nut to crack Lulu, you know that?” Minho blurts out. “I just wish you’d like me, kiddo. I try so hard for you. And for your mom.”

He leans back against the railing, letting out a heavy sigh, and the words keep pouring out.

“I love her a lot. Like a lot a lot. I think I’m probably gonna marry her someday. And then we’ll be stuck together whether you like it or not.”

Minho closes his eyes, wondering what the future would hold for the two of them, when he feels it. The soft brush of fur against his leg, and then tiny vibrations.

He blinks his eyes open, and Lulu is nestled against his leg, soft purrs coming from her as she burrows her nose into Minho’s sweaptants.

Tears prick at the corner of Minho’s lids as he fights every bone in his body not to jump for joy. He reaches over, softly stroking Lulu between her ears, and chuckles when her tiny mouth drops open.

“Of course. The only thing you love more than attention is ____. I should have known.”

He stays impossibly still, battling against the ache in his leg, his eyes growing heavy with sleep. 

That’s how you find him in the morning, still cuddled up to Lulu. You smile softly, grabbing a blanket from the couch to throw over Minho while you work on breakfast for him and Lulu, finally content that the two most important people in your world love each other as much as they love you.

a/n pt. 2: As always, any feedback or comments are much appreciated, but I appreciate you all anyway. Lots of love, Isi 💜