#how hard is it to search their names? My god people.

[mashairregularity]

let's try to get something straight

it's mirabel not mirabelle

it's pepa not peppa

It's agustin not augustin/augustine 

it's luisa not louisa

it's isabela not isabella

[glass-clown]

Artist is Zhang Xiaoyuan/zxy698 on Douyin

People who can do this amaze me.

[featherymainffins]

Family is clearly just prolonging my and my mother's misery by forcing me to text her on special occasions and send her gifts, which is giving her false hope that her only boxing bag might come back and endure whatever she decides to take out on it again.

[reblog-house]

Pearlscar came, changed my life, was buried, and on the third day-

[rosenclaws]

XXX.Com || Pornstar Worst!Logan Howlett smut

summary: Logan needs money and work is hard to find when you're from another universe, luckily he lands himself a job as an adult film actor. Lets just say, he's a natural.

warnings: SMUT, MINORS DNI!!, 18+ ONLY, fem!reader, porn (obvi lol), jerking off, dirty talk, unprotected sex, cream pie, scratching, oral f!receiving, rough sex, fake professor x college student (its the porno they're filming), he calls you teach in the porno, reader has a stage name (sunshine), flirting.

a/n: This was inspired by the delicious pornstar logan fics by @bpmiranda I wanted to try my own twist on the trope but plz go check out their fics they are amazing!!

Coming from another universe had its fair share of problems. For one his other self was a very well known hero so people were constantly staring. The other issue was working. He needed money if he ever wanted to move out of this god forsaken place. He’s sick of seeing wade walk around naked at 8 in the morning.

He needs his space and to get that he needs money but getting a job with none of the required paperwork was hard. He had to settle for doing odd jobs that paid cash under the table. Those were fine but he needed something more stable.

When Wade suggested he turn to adult films he rolled his eyes at another attempt at shitty humor from his roommate but the more he thought about it the less it seemed like a joke. The money was good and hopefully they didn't ask too many questions. So fuck it. How he found the right place was a long story but he ended up getting hired pretty quickly.

As the director put it. He's sexy and big in more ways than one. To Logan's surprise they didn't seem to care much that he was from another universe but they did have to make sure he wasn't a total creep which he understood.

The first video he was assigned to was pretty basic. Just fucking a girls brains out or something. Whatever the hell people were in to these days, he didn't really care. As long as he got paid. He had to get used to the prying eyes of the cameras.

Still he said his lines, albeit it took him a couple takes to say them naturally. His gruff voice and rippling muscles skyrocketed him to the top. Despite being a rookie he attracted a lot of attention and even garnered a reputation within the studio. No one could deny the raw animal magnetism this man seemed to have.

"Logan! Good news, your next video is going to be a with one of the most popular stars in our studio." The directors over the top enthusiasm makes Logan's eyes roll but he grunts out a response.

"Her name is Sunshine. Look her up. Anyways be here tomorrow by nine." Sunshine? Logan chuckles to himself as he leaves the studio.

Fake names are not uncommon but he's yet to find one that sounds so...perky. Still his curiosity gets the better of him as he steals Wades laptop in the dead of night. Searching in the name and scanning the results. Logan works with many attractive people in this job but the moment he lays eyes on you something shifts.

You aren't just attractive, you're drop dead gorgeous. He clicks on a video and his cock tightens in his pants. The faces you make don't look over the top or rehearsed. They almost look real. But Logan can tell you're faking it.

Your moans are sweet but he can tell whoever this boy is that's got his cock in you isn't doing his job very well. Still ever the professional you are you make it work. He falls down a rabbit hole of video after video. Shutting the laptop as the clock reads two in the morning. His cock is hard and painful as he puts Wades laptop back on the counter.

Fuck he needs a shower.

The ice cold water hits his back but it's not helping. He wraps his hand around his cock. Keeping his noises to a minimum as he jerks himself off to the thought of you. He bites his lip as he thinks of every way he can make you scream tomorrow. Show you what it's like to be fucked by a real man.

The sinful thoughts that fill his head drive him over the edge. He slams his hand against the shower wall as he comes. The water running down his back as he catches his breath. You've already got him interested, he just hopes he can put on a real show tomorrow.

-

When Logan gets to the studio the director tells him the "plot" of this video. Plot being a very loose term here. He's supposed to be the failing college senior while you play the hot young professor. They hand him a white button up a size too small and some fake glasses. He laughs as they place the glasses onto his face.

"No one's going to fucking buy this." The buttons threaten to bust open as they start to fix his hair.

"I don't know, you look pretty convincing to me." He looks up to see you smiling at him.

Already dressed in your shoot clothes with your makeup and hair all done. He shamelessly looks you up and down, licking his lips as his eyes settle on your cleavage.

"I'm a little old to be playing a college student don't you think?" You shrug and walk closer to him. You take your hands and run them through his hair, trying to flatten the parts that stick up but they don't want to listen.

"Don't think any one is watching these for the realism Logan." You wink as you then move to fix his glasses.

He clenches his jaw as he tries to contain the raging boner. He shouldn't be hard yet but here he is. You're driving him crazy.

"Promise to go easy on you, don't want to scare my new favorite coworker." You tease. Your nails scratch along his jaw, just for a moment but it's enough to drive him wild.

"I'm your favorite already Sunshine?" Logan says with a grin.

"For now, don't prove me wrong when the cameras are on us." You walk away and Logan enjoys every second of it. Oh this is going to be fun.

-

"Come on teach, your class is the only one I'm failing. I need to get a C to graduate." Logan's massive frame towers over your desk. His lines come out much more flirty than its supposed to but you roll with it.

"You need a lot of extra credit to make up the missing assignments Mr. Howlett." You stand up and walk over to where he was standing.

Pushing on his chest to get him to sit. You smirk when you see the buttons on his shirt fighting for their life. You sit on top of the desk and pretend to think.

"I'll do anything you want. Anything" Logan growls, his hand resting on your thigh now. Slowing inching up your leg, stopping right at the hem of your pencil skirt. You place your heel onto his shoulder. Spreading your legs so that Logan and the camera can see your lack of panties.

"Well, lets see how bad you want it." You taunt.

Your voice is smooth as butter and it drives him nuts. Logan gets on his knees. Ripping your skirt apart with ease making you gasp. That wasn't in the script but fuck it made you wet. His muscles are bulging in that damn shirt and you want to see what's underneath in person. Sadly that was going to have to wait as he trails kisses up your legs. Wet and sloppy as his grip on your hips is ironclad.

The camera moves to capture Logan's face. Seeing the primal hunger in his eyes as he grabs the hem of your panties with his teeth, dragging them down. He stands up with them still in his mouth. You grab onto his shirt and rip it open. Raking your nails down his very toned chest. You grab your underwear out of his mouth and toss it to the side.

"Good boy." You purr as you push on his shoulders.

He gets back onto his knees and wastes no time diving into your cunt. You fall back onto the desk as Logan takes you apart with his tongue. Moans and whimpers fall from your lips with ease. There is no need to fake your pleasure with him between your legs.

He's hungry, ravenous. Logan can't get enough. He holds your legs apart, keeping you from closing them as he zeros in on your clit. He's ruthless. Refusing to give you a moment to breathe as he loses himself in your pussy.

"You taste sweeter than I imagined." He growls off script. If he wasn't bringing you to orgasm you'd wonder what he meant by that. You wonder if he watched your videos just like you had.

"Logan!" You moan as your legs start to shake under the intense pleasure.

"That's it teach, let me taste you come on." His dirty mouth makes your head spin.

Your eyes squeezing tight as he pushes you over the edge. You barely even notice the camera as it positions itself over Logan's shoulder. Logan resist the urge to break the damn thing as it gets in his way. He feels a push on his shoulder and he growls. Reluctantly he gets out of the way and uses his thumb to rub your clit.

"I have an idea teach," Logan purrs. He pulls you off the desk. Wrapping an arm around you and grinding his clothed cock against your thigh.

"For every orgasm I can pull out of you, you raise my grade by a letter." He breathes into your neck, inhaling your scent. You sigh as his hands start to grope and squeeze your breasts.

"What do you say?" He grins as he feels you squirm under his touch. He unbuttons your blouse and tosses it to the side. Mouth watering as he buries his face in your breasts.

"You better get to work then Mr. Howlett. You're at a D right now." You turn around and bend over the desk. His hands run along your body before he unbuckles his pants.

"I'll show you a D." He grumbles. You have to stifle a laugh at his words.

The camera moves to show your face as Logan slides his cock inside of you. He throws his head back in pleasure as he gets to feel your tight cunt. Now this is what he was waiting for.

"Come get a shot of this." He whispers to himself.

He drags his cock out slowly. He watches in awe as your cute pussy just sucks him up. Your hands are digging into the desk, clawing at the wood as Logan's massive cock pushes its way in. You knew he was big but to actually feel it in person. Fuck.

"That feel good? You like my big cock hm?" Logan's cocky tone makes you moan as he picks up his pace. He's pummeling your poor pussy with no mercy. Your moans are as real as they can get as you cry and whine with each thrust.

"Logan oh god!" Your eyes cross as his cock hits a sensitive spot.

No one's ever hit that before. You're falling apart. Your chest heaves as you try and catch your breath but your moans quiet down because of it. Logan doesn't like that one bit. You groan as you feel his hand grab your hair. He pulls you up so that your back is arched. His cock somehow pushing its way deeper.

"Come on baby, don't hide from me." He whispers in your ear. He wraps an arm around your chest to hold you up. Your nails dig into his arm to ground yourself.

"Feel so fucking good, jerked myself off last night to your videos." He mumbles so only you can hear. You don't understand how a man can have so much stamina. He doesn't even seem tired.

"So fucking close I can feel it baby. I can feel the way your cunt clenches around my fat cock. I can hear her pulsing for me." His eyes grow dark as he feels you start to lose it.

His rough fingers sliding down to play with your cunt. It's a filthy sight to watch. You've forgotten about the cameras and the crew. The only thing you can feel is Logan. He's taken over your mind, your senses.

"That's it pretty girl." He bites your shoulder and the pain mixes with pleasure.

"Fuck!" You wail as you come hard around his cock. Logan groans in pleasure and comes before he can really stop himself. Filling you up nice and full as you babble incoherently. You can barely get your lines out as you float between the real world and cloud nine.

"You got your C Mr. Howlett." You've never been this wrecked after a scene before but Logan has completely ruined you. You grin at the feeling of his cum seeping out of you.

"You know, I've always wanted an A." He's grinning like the devil as he thrusts his hips once more making you cry out.

He's still fucking hard. He really is every porn studios wet dream. Hot, sexy, can go for round after round. The director calls cut but Logan doesn't let go of you. You've got this dazed look in your eyes and he gently lays you down on the desk.

"You alright?" He grunts as he slips out of you. His cock still standing straight as someone brings him a robe. He grabs a towel from one of the PA's and gently wipes up your legs. You whine as the rough material brushes against your poor pussy.

"Sorry." You just smile in response. You haven't had a fuck this good in a long time. A crew member brings you a robe and you put it on.

"You really know how to use that thing. For a second I thought you were the seasoned professional." You joke as you try and get off the desk. You stumble and Logan is quick to catch you.

"What can I say Sunshine, you made it easy." He flirts. The director calls his name and he rolls his eyes.

"Don't keep him waiting Logan. I'll see you soon." Another crew member comes to help you as Logan lets you go.

Thankfully this was all you had for the week and you could go home and soak in a bath. Your poor legs are going to need it. After signing a few things and getting next weeks shoot list you can finally go home.

"Sunshine, hope I didn't fuck you too good." Logan says with a wink. He's waiting outside of the studio, a cigar in his mouth.

"I regret whatever I said before, your ego is going to get too big." You joke. He shrugs and puts out his cigar on the ground.

"You got any plans?" He asks. Your dressed in normal clothes now, nothing remotely revealing but Logan still thinks you look gorgeous.

"I could take you to lunch, if you're interested." He offers.

You haven't thought about dating since you started working in this industry. You didn't need a partner and it could be hard trying to find one who understood your job. But Logan flashes that handsome smile and for some reason you can't resist.

Maybe your working backwards here. He fucks you and then you go to lunch but hey, nothing about him is conventional anyways.

"Yeah, lunch sounds good."

Its just lunch, you tell yourself. It's only a meal with your hot coworker. If things were to go further though you wouldn't complain. Certainly not when he's as handsome as he is. You definitely wouldn't mind taking him back to your place and you're certainly okay when he promises he can go for more rounds away from the prying eyes of the camera. But for now it's just lunch. He pays and you give him your number.

Logan and you part ways and he prays he sees you again. Not just at work but outside of it too. You've got him hooked. The video gets uploaded and explodes in popularity. Praising how realistic it felt and how hot both of you were. He gets a call from the director, expecting another update on his next shoot.

"Great news man! Sunshine wants to do exclusive shoots with you. Oh this is going to make us so much money." He tunes out the rambling as his phone dings. A smirk appearing on his face when he sees a text with your name pop up.

Want to rehearse our next scene? my place 7pm <3

[hazelfoureyes]

⟢Alastor x Cupid FemReader Tasked with making a demon believe in true love or you can’t return to heaven, things immediately go off the rails when you hurt yourself and Alastor catches one of your most troubling arrows; Mania

I managed to finish this despite, ya know, the aforementioned: (´°̥̥̥̥̥̥̥̥ω°̥̥̥̥̥̥̥̥｀)

˚₊ · »-♡→ Week 1 and Week 2 (keep reading)

˚₊ · »-♡→Week 3 and Week 4 smut💦

˚₊ · »-♡→Week 5, Week 6, Week 7, and Epilogue smut💦

「warnings/promises: Alastor x CupidFemReader, broken bones, feet washing, normal sized Luci, you know the outfit in my PFP? You’re wearing that but soft purple and the bottom half is ambiguous because idk baby whatever you feel best in it’s your story, Husk has a bad time, Alastor has a bad time, You have a bad time, Charlie has a great time 👌🏼, not choking」

Minors this one is chill but the next two imma need you to Dni 💋 ♥️ 🧹lovingly

You had made a mistake, yes, but Hell? Really?

Sure, you had dropped an arrow into the water supply of a nunnery which did lead to some unholy behaviors. But! The nuns seemed quite happy. Wasn’t that the point?

Tossing you to Hell through a hastily opened portal was honestly unprofessional. You ended up dropping three stories, upside down, in front of a butcher's shop.

In the seconds between Sera telling you, ‘You can return when you’ve made a sinner believe in true love.’ and Lute kicking you square in the chest through the hell door, you thought it wouldn’t be so hard. True, you couldn’t use your arrows as that wouldn’t be “true love” and also too easy, even gods weak to your shots, but ultimately sinners were still human. Humans were pushovers! Pliable, gentle at their hearts, desiring love and tenderness. How bad could the naughty ones be? 

And then you landed shoulder first onto the pavement. It hurt. Things didn’t hurt in heaven…

Your arrows scattered, quiver spilling when you inverted. Wincing, you scrambled to grab as many as were within reach. Your right shoulder was burning, a new sensation.

You counted them by name as you gathered: Eros, Agape, Philia, Pragma, Philautia, Ludus, Storge… panic. 

ErosAgapePhiliaPragmaPhilautiaLudusStorge— Mania wasn’t there. Arguably the arrow that caused you the most trouble, the sting of Mania would cause a madness that led to obsessive behaviors, possessiveness, jealousy. 

Pulling yourself up, arrows clutched in one hand, the other holding the place near your collar was throbbing, your eyes were frantic in their search.

“What’s this?”

You finally looked up from the sidewalk, a man’s back to you before he turned. Bile rose and burned your throat as he pulled Mania from where it had pierced his chest pocket.

His eyes, shades of red heaven didn’t even entertain, made a simple trip from the arrow's head to your face.

The man went so still you thought for a moment he was a hologram, but you could see the tiniest rise and fall of his chest. A deer facing down a bright light, he remained frozen in place as you began to approach him.

“Excuse my manners, but that’s mine and I really need it back.” Your injured arm moved first and the pain made you see white, a cry so sharp people turned to look. He snapped back to his senses, and with an odd sound you couldn’t quite place, he seemingly disappeared into the ground.

Mania was left behind, shining smugly against the dirty pavement. You didn’t want to make a reach for it, fear flooding you. You’d never felt pain before.

You’d seen it in humans, but never in your existence had you experienced it. Would both arms hurt?

You let the left hand abandon its guarding place and grabbed the errant arrow. Tucking into an alley, you crouched and returned the arrows to their quiver with immense difficulty.

Okay, yes it was Hell but maybe you were a little paranoid. A sense of being watched wouldn't leave you even after you re-emerged from the darkness of the alley. 

The enormity of your task set in as you surveyed the area. You, an obviously heavenly creature even without your wings out on display, would need time to make anyone believe in any form of love. Where would you go in the meantime? And now injured for the first time in your life? How long would that need to mend?

Expanding your view, you saw the currently defunct doomsday countdown hovering above the embassy. Perfect, holy ground would atleast keep you safe for the night, which was falling with a malignant speed.

They couldn’t have given you some time to change? Or pack a set of clothes? Your short sleeved button up a (literally) glowing shade of white was attracting too much attention, golden sandals now cloudy from various fluids across Pentagram city’s streets. Your heart shaped overalls a powdered purple, you looked like an adult child among a sea of very tired professionals. 

When you got to the embassy you only had one good arm to open the heavy doors, which unfortunately didn’t budge. Perhaps you needed two? Trying to muster up some adrenaline, you began to pant. Deep breaths like the women in labour you sometimes worked your magic on.

As soon as you gripped the handle you saw something that made you jump back, muscles flexing around whatever damage you’d done in your body from the fall. A large black snake? Some demonic squid’s appendage? Something unholy grabbed hold of the handle as soon as you had and gave such a tug the doors violently shook.

You spun around to the dark neighborhood behind you. Nothing. Turning back the thing was gone. And so was all of your hope. It was locked. The tears were unwanted and unnecessary, but just-- you were hurting so much, you were dirty, you were alone, and now essentially homeless.

If there was ever a reason to cry, you decided to let yourself have this one. 

The lamplights flickered and the entire street went pitch black. Because of course it did.

Hyperventilating now entirely without intention, you watched as one light to the left popped on with a static buzz. Desperate to be out of the darkness you ran to the spotlight. As soon as your foot entered the beam, the light beside it lit up. Your eyes wandered to heaven above, were they helping you? Had you not been entirely abandoned?

Of course! Yeah. They sensed you at the doors and sent off some guidance. How silly of you. Relief washed over you as you ran through the lights until your foot left one spotlight but the next hadn't popped on.

Twirling back to the embassy, you saw all of the lights shut off in succession behind you.

Just you and the one lamp now, and the glow of some TVs in the shop window to the right. What was the meaning of this? 

That weird sound you heard earlier but couldn’t place… electricity but dusty and barely contained. Your gaze was drawn to the radio in the shop window in front of you. You hadn’t noticed it until it buzzed to life. It lit up faintly, dial turning on its own until a high and smooth voice rang out, “Looking for your way to heaven? You’re in luck! The Hazbin Hotel is now accepting any and all willing to find redemption!”

This must have been the message, I mean, heaven was never good at being subtle.

“Just make your way to the left and toward the looming building atop the hill!”

Your head turned to your left and then up slightly. Bathed in red and white lights stood a behemoth of a building on the edge of a cliff.

Head still facing the hotel, your eyes flitted back to the radio.

“Reception is open 24 hours a day!”

You touched your arm, then patted at your pockets. Not a wallet or ID card on you. You were the 17th Cupid incarnation, why would you have a fucking ID card? But didn’t those places need such things? You’d seen every romcom earth had ever produced. There was always some issue with hotel check ins. 

“Not a red cent needed! We literally do not care who you are!”

Oh. Wait. Was this a trap?

“Created by the Lucifer Morningstar’s daughter! A foolish young woman who genuinely believes in reforming sinners!”

Lucifer?? The former angel, yes, but the word angel carried much more weight now. Perhaps he would have a modicum of pity given your circumstances.

You took an unsteady foot forward and toward the hotel when the street lights all buzzed back to life.

The path to the hotel was long, many demons stopping you on your way but quickly losing interest after a second or two of pestering you. You gave a silent prayer to the archangels for that blessing.

It must have been nearly 1am when you finally made it to the hotel’s doors. When you entered you found an empty reception desk and a poorly written note:

Before the bell’s hammer even hit the metal, a man popped up from behind the counter.

The man.

The man you shot with Mania.

“Welcome to th-,”

You were outside and leaving the awning before he could finish, but just as quickly as you left he appeared in front of you, “Still missing your manners?”

He blocked your path with his remarkable size. Why were demons so tall? What was the use of it?

“Deer got your tongue?” He bent over unnaturally at the waist.

“What?”

“Would you like-,” he began.

You walked around him and down the driveway. He moved briskly beside you, slowly growing larger and larger until his body was several stories tall and entirely blocking the gates of the premises.

A horror. Hell was full of horrors.

He crouched, large toothy smile now baring down at you.

If you stabbed him in the eye with an arrow, which would cause the least trouble? It was a rule to never give a double love bite but this was a dire situation.

But if you were sent to hell for a little nun love fest, what would purposefully stabbing a sinner do?

He rapidly shrank, hands coming to his front to catch a summoned microphone…Cane? Staff?

“You’re injured. Just, come back inside. I promise I don’t bite without consent.” His head cocked to the side, a quiet, “Usually” tacked on.

We’re you visibly hurt? How bad was it? You looked past him to where sounds of yelling and music were rolling up the hill.

“You don’t have many options, angel.” He hissed the word through clenched teeth. Disgust almost seemed to lace his voice, but why, then, was he offering help?

“Not an angel. Cupid. Different.” Kind of. You gave the quiver a shake.

“Ah yes. That explains why you shot at me earlier.” A large hand came to your side and directed you to turn back around. He kept it there, pushing softly to keep you moving.

“I didn't shoot you.”, You huffed, crossing your arms before doubling over in pain. He stopped walking, hand resting now against your spine. Regaining your composure, you continued towards the hotel lobby, “My arrows fell out and…you caught one. With your body.”

“My pocket made quite the lucky catch. Now!” He snapped, a key appearing and floating into his hand with a sparkle of neon green, “Let’s get you to a room and cleaned up.”

“Do you work here?” You asked as he escorted you to one of the upper floors. The room was surprisingly clean and well decorated. You had expected a dingy highway motel. And while the room was largely dark wood and rich colors, it wasn’t as offensive as the rest of hell had been.

“Ah! My my, forgive me! I am Alastor, the radio demon and hotel manager here.” He bowed and offered his hand for you to place yours in. You did so without thinking, and he kissed your knuckles once but his mouth lingered over your flesh. Eyes half lidded, he glanced back up at you, “It is an absolute pleasure to meet you.”

There was no way to reverse Cupid’s arrows. Not by force. Love could only die by the hands of the ones who held it. Others could definitely bruise it, but ultimately it was up to the beholder. Mania was a little different, obsession could be dispelled by shattering whatever illusion the holder felt.

If the holder thought someone was the epitome of genteel chastity then a show of wanton sexuality could break the spell. If someone was convinced the object of their desire was very smart and savvy then acting ignorant could make the obsession fall flat. But there was no indication he had any illusions of you. Not yet, atleast.

Mania was now his, and he would keep it in his heart until he lost it or killed it. He could, technically, be possessed by, and be in the possession of, Mania for eternity. A sinner had never been shot before, that you knew of.

He didn’t noticeably react as you took back your hand. With a hum, he snapped again and you found a chair pulled up behind you and knocking into the back of your knees. You fell into the plush armchair, watching a metal basin of steaming water slide against your feet.

“Excuse you— ExcUU-,” you pulled your legs back but he pulled harder, Alastor removing your dirty shoes and tossing them off to the side like trash.

“You can't clean yourself with that broken collar bone. Allow me.” His hand gripped your ankles and dunked both into the water, “I insist.”

“It’s broken? How could I break a collarbone…,” the humor wasn’t lost on you, sinner washing holy feet, but your focus was entirely on the concept of a broken bone. 

“Falling twenty five feet head first, apparently.” Alastor rubbed soap into your calves.

“But I don’t break.” What happened to you, what had that kick into hell done? “You saw me? Also, that isn’t dirty.” you pointed at your calf.

“Peripherally.”

Did he mean the dirt or witnessing the fall? You sat in silence while he hummed, returning your feet to their original color. 

“Now,” he rose, patting his hands dry on a small towel, “Unbutton your top.”

Your expression was apparently quite loud, Alastor putting his hands up quickly, “Not like that. I’ve no interest in that sort of thing. I need to see your shoulder and upper chest.” He waited patiently, staring at you the entire time. His smile was so wide, teeth yellow and sharp. Unsettling. 

He really did look like he could eat you. You’d heard of such demons.

You slipped off the straps of your overalls, and began to open your shirt. He did away with the water, coming to kneel directly to your right as he watched. You couldn’t see anything without some kind of mirror. If it was bruised or swollen, it was out of your line of sight. Long clawed hands came to the front and back of your shoulder, pressing inward. You pulled away, a firm grip now as his right hand held at the left side of your waist.

“Are you a doctor?” Hotel manager and doctor would be an unlikely combo, but the day had been odd from start to finish.

A shake of the head, “But when I was alive, I did have quite a lot of experience with the inner workings of anatomy.” You grimaced, how could he say such sinister things with such a lovely voice? “Maybe not broken. But I’d say at least a fracture. Perhaps your heavenly body didn’t take full damage. It hurts when you move your arm, correct?” You nodded. 

He hummed, another click of his fingers and a fabric unfurled into his waiting hands. “Take it all the way off so I can set this.”

You were exhausted. The pain was gnawing at your nerves. No more fight in you, you just wanted rest, so you slipped off the shirt entirely and let him wrap your arm up into a simple sling. You were surprised his hands were so warm. Demons seemed like they’d be cold to the touch. Like lizards or pearls.

When he finished, you sitting in the large chair with your arm wrapped in a silky black sling, no shirt, and pastel purple heart-shaped overalls folded down your torso, you considered having another cry. You felt your chin tremble. You couldn’t recall ever crying from sadness before today.

It was just a mistake. You hadn’t meant to drop your arrow. Why were the archangels so angry? What’s some sex between nuns? 

Alastor bristled, hand coming to your cheek. It was an unwelcome gesture. You batted his hand away with your only free one, but he just sighed and set it on your thigh. You pushed it off, shooting him a glare. The audacity.

You thought you saw his eye twitch.

With what little energy was left in, you stood and open the door for him, “You have been very kind and helpful. Thank you very much. You can leave now.” Oh, right, “Please.”

He stood, pausing as he passed you. He was so tall. Shoulders wide. You felt your heart rate pick up. Even with two good collarbones you knew you couldn’t take him in a fight.

Alastor leaned down to your level, you backing up and into the door, “Until the morning.”

When he said it you had thought he was just going about formalities. But he wasn’t. You awoke some hours later to a knock. When you opened the door he was looming in your doorway again.

You tried to close the door but he put his foot in the gap, then a strong hand wrapped around the door’s edge and he pushed his way into the room.

You sputtered, arm flailing a little as you choked on which reaction to give first. You were undressed, in just your under things.

“I don’t want you to hurt yourself further when you get dressed. I’ll undo the sling and help.” Closing the door he then spun back around to face you, smile as bright as it was earlier that same day. 

“No! Absolutely not! Leave! Please!”

As he guided your arm through the shirt, you struggled to process what had happened. One minute you were indignant and stubborn and then he was so close to you, hands warm and gentle, and then already he was untying the sling and your shirt was just there and-

“See? Wasn’t that easy? No harm in accepting help.” Alastor looked you over from top to bottom.  

“Accepting? What part of any of that did I accept.” You stood bottomless in a button up, trying to get the overalls from the hanger with just your left hand. His chest pressed into your back, nearly forcing you to fall into the armoire, to assist you.

“The part where you didn’t actively fight me. I think we can call that acceptance until you learn better.” His words shook through your ribs and to your front. 

Annoyance rose in your chest, what was he thinking? Humans had no right to touch you let alone a sinner. “You’re an eldritch horror, please back away from the divine creature before you.” Alastor laughed, backing away with the clothes in his hands. Hand out, you motioned for him to pass it over. He tossed it on the floor, and took a seat on the bed with crossed legs. “Oh, I see. You’re an asshole. Perfect.” Pretense gone, manners not needed.

You grabbed it with your left hand and managed to get both legs into it before slinking it up and onto your left shoulder. While you tried to figure out how to do the right side, realizing the flaw in your order of processes, Alastor leaned over and unhooked the left strap, overalls falling to the carpet with a soft thud. 

You stood there for several moments, staring at him with purple fabric pooled around your ankles, him staring at you with a shiteating grin.

After finally getting dressed, preferring to not think about how, you were followed down to the lobby. 

“Breakfast?” He asked, you both in the elevator as he hadn’t gone more than three feet from you since he entered your bedroom. 

“No, no appetite. I need to find Lucifer.” You were sure he could help somehow. Somehow he could do….something. Details about Lucifer’s powers and abilities, his strengths and skills were all kept hush-hush. But if nothing else, you could find someone who understood your position. 

Your hand was being vigorously shaken before the elevator doors even closed behind you. Charlie Morningstar was not what you expected.  Chipper and bright, she was bursting with energy. 

“Gentle, Charlie. Our dear Cupid is injured.” Alastor’s hand came to the small of your back. You reached back with your left hand and knocked it off of you. 

“Like, the real actual cupid?!” Charlie’s eyes were shining, you could almost see the hearts floating up around her face. You felt Alastor’s hand again, now on your hip. You took three steps to the right, slipping from his fingertips.

“Yes, that is exactly what I-.” You were cut off, Charlie launching into a speech about sinners and heaven and redemption and so much more you couldn’t process. 

The energy she gave us was very angelic, which was confusing. Until you saw her father entering the common area.

The most hated creature in all of creation. Your best hope for a tiny sliver of comfort. 

Alastor’s hand reached for yours, fingers trapping your wrist and stopping you from approaching the king of hell. 

You shook your arm. His hold stayed. You tugged. He was unaffected, talking to Charlie now about your injury as if you weren’t right there. 

As Cupid, or at least as a cupid, you weren’t physically strong. You really weren’t meant to exist for a long time, just for as long as your body held up to repeated trips to the human realm. But, in heaven, you were never capable of being harmed. And of course, on earth, you weren’t really corporeal so no harm could come to you. You weren’t built for tug of war with a 7 foot tall demon.

“Mr. Devil! Sir!” You waved your foot, shouting out to the normal sized man. As he saw you, his eyes widened, “Hello there! Sorry to be a bother, I’m from heaven and-” You jerked your hand free, power walking to Lucifer, “I’m here on punishment. It’s a pleasure to meet another member of Elysium’s caretakers. Former or otherwise.”

Flustered, Lucifer fumbled with his phone before dropping it. “Oh! Shit! H-hello!”

You reached down to retrieve it for him, seeing black and red shoes behind you as you did. 

“What — why are you here?” Lucifer was looking at Alastor now, which was great news because for a second you thought he was talking to you. A sneaking feeling leaked into your chest that heaven hadn’t actually told him you were coming. 

“Just keeping an eye on my guest! As you can see she got injured and I’ve taken to the task of her safety while she’s in hell.” 

“No one asked him to do that, sir.” Your smile was strained, you could feel Alastor’s shoulder was touching yours. You looked to where you were connected and then back to Lucifer, “Are all sinners like this?”

“Honestly? Yes. They’re all pretty terrible.” Lucifer sighed, “What did you do?”

A cold sweat, “Misused an arrow. I can’t leave hell until I make a demon who doesn’t already believe in true love…believe in it.”

“Oh no! That’s— you’re gonna be here awhile.” Lucifer pulled at his collar in a mock attempt to release the awkward heat of the conversation. He saw you wither, and Alastor seemed to bloom, so he quickly changed pace, “But! Uhhh, you can totally do it! Charlie has some of the best of the worst here. If I can ever help, just ask!” Nervous laughter that did not put you at ease. He seemed so silly. So sweet and easily flustered. 

You felt your hope dash for a second time in less than a day. How long would you be in hell? How long was awhile?

“She is my responsibility now. She won’t be needing anything from you, your majesty.”

A darkness came over you as the two demons began to bicker. You now had your own obsessed shadow; a large and creepy sinner following you around. How on earth could you get close enough to a demon to complete your task? Convincing someone of true love would require trust and time. This would be impossible with Alastor attached to your side. 

You spent the first week in hell in the hotel. Everytime you got the courage to leave and explore the areas outside, you’d find yourself shadow portaled “back to safety” by Alastor. It was like the human film ‘Groundhog Day’, always starting over back in the lobby. 

No matter where you went in the hotel, he was either beside you or where you had been headed. You saw the sky less often than Alastor’s grin and you couldn’t stand it. You took to hiding, leaning against darkened stairwell corners and sitting on the floor of the ladies restroom. 

It bought you a little time to yourself, but the second you moved he was there again. Asking if you were a lost little doe, hand reaching for your waist to pull you near him, red eyes threatening to swallow you whole.

Toward the end of the week, while helping you get dressed as he did daily, Alastor took a step back. “I could get you some new clothes. Cannibal town has the finest duds.” He lifted the lace that lined the top of your  pocket, “You stick out. No demon is going to let you trick them into believing in true love like this.”

You could have screamed. No, no demon would even approach you with Alastor standing behind you. It absolutely wasn’t the clothes. You politely rejected the offer and went about your day.

The next morning you awoke to find your floor littered with strips of something. Flinging open the armoire you found two empty hangers. You turned back, noticing the white and purple color to the fabric confetti.

The march to Alastor’s room was easy, as it was 10 feet in front of your door. He had placed you directly across from him, because, ya know, Mania.

He clearly hadn’t expected you to leave your room in your underwear, eyes like saucers as he yanked you in.

“What in heaven are you doing?! Anyone could see you.” He hissed, closing the door with a little too much force.

“Whose fault is that?!” You seethed in return. Anger was something you rarely ever felt but he was inspiring new things in you. “Someone shredded my clothes.”

Alastor’s ears folded back, eyes looking to the left and up, “Odd. Are you sure? Maybe you accidentally threw them away.” That devilish grin you’d come to expect. He knew damn well how stupid that was.

You stomped your foot, if you had two working hands you’d try to rip his antlers off, “Are you serious?!” You turned to leave, kicking the door before attempting to open it.

A large hand pressed back on the door, slamming it shut. His breath was dropping down the back of your neck despite his considerable height, “You will not be leaving this room in such a state of undress, my dear.”

His voice was so low and close, had anyone ever spoken to you with such a commanding tone? A new feeling twitched in you. You blocked it out.

“You don’t get to make decisions for me,” said too softly.

His other hand came to press on the door, too. An arm to either side of you, trapped, as he leaned in. You pressed yourself against the door to make distance from his body.

“Oh, I absolutely do. Who is going to stop me? You?” Alastor’s voice had noticeably dropped an octave as he whispered what felt like a challenge against your hair.

Who indeed…you had no strength, an arrow would either be useless or complicate things. Lucifer seemed preoccupied and jittery. Heaven wasn’t returning your prayers.

He took your silence as an answer.

“Exactly. Now, I’ll only ask nicely once.” His hands left, warmth on your neck fading. You turned to look at him, sensing his eyes burning holes into your back.

He was holding a two piece set. Older style, 1920s American maybe. Black and burgundy. When did he have time to get this when every hour seemed to be spent near you?

“May I help you get dressed?”

You’d gotten quite close with the few residents who didn’t run at the sight of Alastor. Husk was one of them. You became fast friends, often drinking and lamenting about Alastor’s general existence as Alastor sat some 15 feet away on the sofa. Still not allowed outside the hotel gates, your second week you spent many hours at the bar talking to the surprisingly kind grump.

To your delight Alastor didn’t seem bothered by it, oddly, as long as you were in eyesight he seemed content.

You thought maybe his mania was already waning. Sure you hadn’t attempted to leave the hotel, and you hadn’t argued when he dressed you, but…Ah, hm. Fuck.

Mania can look like Love when you don't struggle against it. A fly motionless in a web can elude the spider for a little bit.

Don't push against the restraints and you can forget they are there entirely.

But push you did, accidentally. Husk was making some new cocktails, trying to enjoy himself and be creative. 

“Yeah, that’s it.” He grinned.

“Good?” 

He took another sip before handing the glass to you. You grabbed it, taking a taste. Sweet but a bite as it went down. Something with citrus. When you looked up from the glass, he was gone.

A choking noise from behind the bar made you stand up in your seat, eyes flying from Husk to Alastor. A glowing green leash dragging Husk across the floor, his hands desperately pulling at the collar as he struggled to breath. 

“Stop!” You shouted, crawling over the bar and grabbing the chain with your good arm. You tried to pull back, to slow the choking force, but got pulled along with it. “Alastor!” You screamed as your shoulder hit the floor and sent searing pain down your arm. 

You could hear Husk gasp, the green glow disappearing from past your clenched eyelids. 

“Why can’t you-,” Alastor started to speak a he came to your side. Husk scurried away, crawling back from the demon. You hit the hand Alastor offered you but were surprised to see his face painted with concern.

“I said stop.” After rolling to your feet you began to march away. “Every time I find something nice in this piece of shit domain you remind me I’m in hell.”

You had almost made it to your room when a hand pulled you by the good shoulder and pushed you against the wall. It still hurt. 

“Don’t you know? Sharing a drink, it’s as close to a kiss as you could get without bringing your mouth to his.”

“It was a drink, Alastor. You had no right.”

His hand settled on your throat. No grip, just a gentle placement, “I have every right.” His brows knit together in worry, in confusion. “What should I do to make you understand me?” His hand came to your chin, thumb ghosting over your lips.

“If I let you go too far, someone will surely take you. Who wouldn’t? Please. Stop pushing me so much.” His eyes were almost loving as they shined down at you. His breath was picking up. You could hear the desperation in his voice. 

Those damned eyes were unrelenting in their stare into your own. There was no creature in presence or audacity in heaven like Alastor. You’d never encountered anything like him. 

“Of all the Love you had to take a stray hit from, Mania really was the cruelest accident.” You held your hand at the crook of your neck, wondering if you did more damage. No, if he did more damage.

“Mania? Is that the arrow I caught? How fitting.” His finger pulled down on your bottom lip. You’d seen this movie, you’d been there for these scenes in dorm rooms and under rainy awnings, in darkened beds and sunny fields. You could move, no part of him was actually holding you physically. “Yes, maybe I am obsessed. But whose fault is that? Will you take responsibility for it?” His chest was shaking with every breath. Why didn’t you move? Just walk away. Knock off that touch as you had been doing. You hadn’t noticed how quickly you were breathing, too, until his hand was pulling your chin up and towards his face.

It only came out as a whisper, half said as it was only half meant, “don’t.”

A laugh, “At least pretend you mean it.” 

Your knees came together in some desperate attempt to stop the feeling creeping up your legs and to your lap, “Apologize to Husk.”

“Why would I ever do such a thing?” His breath was so warm on your mouth, face tilted to keep his nose from hitting yours.

“What a terrible reply!” You slid down the wall and slipped under his arms, “If you shadow work your way into this room I will fuck that horny spider on camera just to spite you.” You opened your door, pausing to make sure he was still down the hall, “Angel on Angel, working title.”

Your whole body went slack, the sounds of a wild animal loose in the hallway rocking the door as you took shaky steps to the bed, paintings on the walls rattling as he did unseen damage. Sounds of an unknown, unholy animal raging just past the thin drywall. 

Had you ever seen Mania work so quickly with so little fuel? Hand coming to your mouth, a burning where his finger touched you. 

No one had touched your lips before. No one could ever hope to. Humans were beyond the realm of feeling you, and you didn’t allow kissing with the partners you took in heaven. Personal rule. As in, it was too personal.

The lights in your room flickered, briefly shrouding you in darkness before coming back to life.

Deja vu.

Oh.

What had he introduced himself as? The radio demon? It wasn’t heaven who brought you to the hotel. Of course not. 

No. Obviously not.

ᡣ𐭩ˋ°•*⁀➷ masterlist

∰ Summoning the Horny Little Deer Cult (general tag list):

@cxrsedwxrlds , @nonetheartist , @tsunaki , @janchei , @wettiny-in-smutland , @moonmark98 , @hoebihoeshi , @pansexual-opera-house , @polytheatrix , @lorddiabigmommymilkers , @backinthefkingbuildingagain , @harley2223-blog , @coffee-colored-hopeless-romantic , @poinappel , @midnightnoiserose , @spookieroz , @missmidorima , @ivebeenthearchersstuff , @downbadforfictionalppl , @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx , @sleepylittledemon , @aether-th3-enby , @dontfuckbutimfab , @breathlessaura , @aperfectidiot , @certainlygay , @jth12 , @star-kujo-platinum ,

@ivebeenthearchersstuffn, @rubyninja1 , @simphornies , @alleystore , @readergirlstuff , @berry-demon , @chirimeimei , @fairyv-ice , @olive-frog , @thonethatflies620 , @tiredkiwiii , @ilikemyteawithmilk , @whateverlololo , @psipies , @howabouticallyou , @roxxie-wolf , @ive-no-idea-what-to-call-this , @fizzled-phoenix , @fjorjestertealeaf , @phobophobular , @surusurusuru , @mariaclarade-la-cruz1 , @whateverlololo , @simplyonehellofanotaku , @xixflower , @i-am-nonbinary-bean-deal-with-it , @roxxie-wolf , @a-case-of-attachment , @multifandomfanatic02 , @watereddownmilk , @raynerrold , @crazii-saber-wolf , @valkyrie-expeditions , @bontensbabygirl , @sillyb0nez , @oo0lady-mad0oo , @jazzmasternot , @pseudobun , @fraugwinska✨, @alitaar , @straows , @alastorssimp , @angelicwillows , @b-o-n-e-daddy , @one-and-only-tay , @asleeponelmstreet , @tremendoushearttaco , @mutifandomkid , @sapphirecaelis , @itzzzkiramylove  @saccharine-nectarine , @viannasthings , @looking1016 , @ultimate-duck-king-lucifer , @blakeaha , @astraechos , @reath-solia ,

🏹Alastor stalkers: @celestial-vomit , @amurtan

@faeoffaith , sailorsmouth , @jeannyjaykaydeh , @jyoongim , @cosmic-lavender , @saturn-alone , @lustylita , @radio-darling , @kaylopolis , @dickmastersworld , @leviskittywh0re

[petew21-blog]

Friends with benefits

Two long time friends Trent and Brett. A classic story. Met in kindergarten and have been friends since. Grew up together. Spent their holidays together. Graduated together. But then stopped seeing each other as often. Why? Because adult life ain't easy. Brett had to find a job while Trent got into college, graduated and on top of that became a fitness influencer. Brett started his Twitch account and became a gamer, which he had time for, cause how he was constantly doing a different job, depending on what he could find. But both of them always took some time off for a beer with their buddy.

This is Trent

Although he doesn't appear like that, he is a 24 year old male with young looks

On the other hand Brett is also young, but his looks are a bit more mature. Maybe it's because of all the hair

This is Brett

So hairy.

Normal guys, right? Well something was about to change very soon

Friday, August 2nd, 5 PM

Brett:"Hey, dude. Wanna grab a beer later tonight?"

Trent:"Yeah, sure. I am down. Is 8:30 ok? I gotta finish a video"

Brett:"Oh yeah, totally fine. See you then"

Friday, August 2nd, sports bar, 8:33 PM

At the bar Brett waits patiently, only his leg is slightly shaking. Trent comes in through the door. It's kinda funny, cause Trent used to be really insecure and not confident. Now he looks basically like a god. But still, he has this cute shy looking guy whose face doesnt match his body and the fact that he's 24. Brett was kinds jealous, most of the people that didn't know him always thought he was older because of his looks. Trent had the opposite problem. Always had to show ID whenever he went. Yet Brett was probably more jealous about his life in general. He finished school, took great care of his body, which now could help him hook up with anyone he would set his mind to.

Brett:"Hey, maaaan. How are you doing?"

Trent:"Heyyy. Yeah good. You know, single influencer life, haha"

Brett:"The ladies must be driving you crazy"

Trent:"If only it were just ladies. Haha. You should see the messages some of these gay dudes keep sending me. It's insane"

Brett:"You tell me. They always send random shits to my chats while playing. But it's mostly dumb kids."

Trent:"I think we should find you a date for tonight"

Brett:"Nahhh, fuck it. I'm not in the mood. I just wanna chat with my bro."

After a few beers

Brett:"Shut up, you did not!"

Trent:"I swear. She came on to me without a word."

Brett:"So what did you do?"

Trent:"You think I put up a fight? Haha"

Brett:"Maaaan. I want this stuff to happen to me to. That's so hot"

Trent:"Come with me to the gym then, I bet more chicks woukd be into you if you would gain some muscles"

Brett:"You calling me fat?"

Trent:"No, just saying that all that body hair would be good to match with a good body. You're just a walking gorilla right now"

Brett:"Oh shut up twink! Haha"

They finished their drinks, said their goodbyes and went home.

Brett felt amazing. He really needed to get a beer with his best friend. He came back home, sat behind his computer and searched Dark web. He already knew what he was looking for. He wanted to mess with Trent. Just a another one of his pranks. All he needed was Trent's personal item. He found the body swapping website. He read the rules and conditions and filled out his and Trents name. The only next step he had to follow was to go to sleep. And so he did. Only taking off his shirt in the process and collapsing on the bed. Not even brushing his teeth

Brett woke up feeling better than ever. He was used to have a hangover by now, but today he felt great. He opened his eyes and immediately noticed the different sheets. He looked around. This is Trent's place.

Brett:"Trent?" he said, but he heard Trent's voice.

He turned around to get up

His body. He has a different body

Brett:"Holy shit. It worked" he said amused. He looked down at his now soft chest. He got up

Brett:"Oh wow. getting up is so different when you have these hard muscles"

He went to the nearest mirror. And there he was. Trent in his glory. Brett was so happy right now. His prank worked. He is now inside of his best friends body. And the pranks probably won't stop there. Now he can mess with him all he wants. But not now.

He looked from top to bottom how tall and slim his body was. "Almost no hair anywhere. Lucky guy"

He took Trent's phone and snapped a photo to send it to Trent in his body. He knew it would take a while for Trent to wake up so he proceeded in his exploration.

He felt his curly hair. "How come you don't even have widow's peak? So unfair" He traced his jawline, now with tiny baby hair that Brett wouldn't even call a beard. But his sight was now caught by those nice Calvin Klein's. He looked around as if there was someone in the room with him who would judge him. He pulled on the waistband

Brett:"Just as I thought. Also shaved" he grabbed his new dick, that was getting harder and harder by the second, when suddenly his phone received a notification. he let go of his dick

It was Trent. Brett:"Haha, this is gonna be good"

There was a photo of Brett's body, observing his hairy armpits in shock

Trent in Brett's body:"Hey. Got any idea why I am a gorilla now? And why that gorilla looks exactly like you?"

Brett:"Surpriseee. And fuck you"

Trent:"So this is your doing?"

Brett:"Yeah, I kinda wanted to prank you somehow for all the pranks and the gorilla jokes. Joke's on you ape man"

Trent:"Fuck you. So this is reversible?"

Brett:"Sure, man. No worries. We'll meet tonight at the bar again and chat how our day went?"

Trent:"I don't know how to feel about this, bro"

Brett:"Just try enjoying being another person"

Trent:"Do you realise there are some no go things including intimate stuff and hygiene?"

Brett:"Sure I do. I'm already holding your dick in YOUR hands right now"

Trent:"Dude! Not cool. I meant more stuff like shitting etc. But yeah, this too."

Brett:"I gotta say Trent. You have a very nice dick"

Trent:"I'll comment on your size when I find it in the bushes I guess. Have you never heard of trimming?"

Brett:"Keeping it natural, baby face"

Trent:"Fine, let's see each other tonight at 8, ok?"

Brett:"Enjoyyy" Hangs up

Trent:"Jesus, this guy. I hope he doesn't fuck up something or someone"

Starts observing himself. "I must say, It feels good to look like a mature man and not a teenager. All of this hair. And the moustache is hot too. I could never grow this thing"

Trent looked down and had a mischievous thought. "Well, Brett. Since you have already held my dick, I think it's time to step it up. Gonna see if you can last longer than I do" Trent said with a smile and whipped out his new hard hairy dick

Saturday August the 3rd, bar, 8:04 PM

Brett is sitting amused in the bar, eating chips on the table and drinking beer. Winking at the ladies looking at his direction.

A waitress came by his table:"Want another?"

Brett noticed his old incoming body:"Sure, and another one for my friend who just arrived. Thank you, sweetheart" he said as his flirtatious look almost seduced the local waitress

Trent:"You need to stop!"

Brett:"What? I was just flirting"

Trent:"Not that. Stop eating those chips. God knows how many calories you ate already"

Brett:"So you don't mind that I was flirting with her?"

Trent:"Nah, I don't care. I jerked off your dick for like the fifth time half an hour ago"

Brett:"What? You beast. I would have never expected that. Cool. You have a really good dick to jerk off too. I didn't expect to shoot so far tho. Made a bit of a mess"

A couple off bikers started eavesdropping to their conversation and turning heads

Trent:"You might want to quiet down, or we're gonna get beaten up for mistakenly speaking like gay guys"

Brett:"But you gotta admit that my body is not so bad, right? All the hair and everything. You like it"

Trent:"It's not bad, but I prefer being in my own body. I'm used to it."

Brett:"Ok, I'll pretend I didn't hear the part before about masturbation. But what do you say? We didn't even have enough time to see what the life is like in our new bodies. It's only been a day"

Trent:"And your point is?"

Brett:"Let's stay swapped for a while. We can swap back anytime we want. It's reversible. We know almost everything about each other, so pretending to be the other one will be easy. You'll just teach me your workout routine, I'll show you... what games to play and how to set up a livestream and we'll figure it out"

Trent:"Livestream? That's all you got?"

Brett:"Come on, man. We got nothing to loose"

Trent:"I don't know man. It's gonna be complicated. I agreed to leave for a few weeks to work at one of our gym branches in another city. And now you'll be the one that has to go. I think now is not the best time"

Brett:"So? I can update you about everything. We can chat all the time. We can call. And I got nothing to do. Actually, you might need to find some job for those few weeks. And there's never gonna be a better time then now. We're single, ready to mingle. So let's enjoy that month"

Trent:"You wanna stay swapped the whole tíme I'm gone?"

Brett:"Yeah, I'll be a fitness instructor/viral star and you'll ne enjoying my chill life"

Trent:"Chill life. Man, you won't even recognise your life when we'll swap back"

Brett:"So you agree?"

Trent:"Yeah, what the hell. I'll be a gorilla for a month"

Brett:"Deal. Now, let's see if you'll have a better game in finding a hookup then me"

Sunday, August 4th

Brett sends a text to Trent:"Why do I feel like my body still hasn't gone through puberty?"

Trent:"Piss off. Yours looks like it went trough yours several times."

Brett:"Nah, gotta be honest. I'm really enjoying this lean figure and hairless body"

Trent:"And my dick..."

Brett:"Haha, yeah and your dick. How are you doing in my body?"

Trent:"Feels pretty weird to be so hairy, but gotta admit it's a nice change. Like... feeling so manly"

Brett:"Yeah, but tip for that hairy stomach. Don't cum on it. It's really irritating to get cum from it"

Trent:"Never had the issue in my body, so yeah. Thanks for the tip"

Brett:"No problem. I had to try it out in yours haha"

Trent:"Doesn't this feel kinda gay to you? All the dick and jerk off talk. Appreciating each other's bodies"

Brett:"Nah. We're exploring, man. Who knows if we ever get that chance. Gotta enjoy it"

Wednesday August 7th

Trent:"How are you settling in?"

Brett:"Yeah. Pretty great. I just jerked off to some porn"

Trent:"Ew. I mean the appartement"

Brett:"Whooops. Sorry. Right. Yeah it's nice. Very clean. Very modern"

Trent:"It's yours only for a month so don't destroy anything there"

Brett:"It's kinda poetic right. New appartement, new body, new job"

Trent:"I don't see anything poetic about me playing games in front of a camera"

Brett;"Dude you have to. My fans are gonna wonder what happened to me"

Trent:"Fine. I'll log in tonight. By the way. Dude your feet smell so much when you work out."

Brett:"Work out? You took my body to the gym?

Trent:"Yeah. I had to show off these bushes somewhere, right?"

Brett:"Ahhh thanks man. Looking good"

Trent:"And I think oke girl was checking you... me out"

Brett:"If you can score than go for it. I'm actually late for a date. Or... how do you call it if you're just gonna have dinner and fuck?"

Trent:"Standard hook up man. Please be safe. Wear a condom. And watch our foe those carbs, man."

Brett:"Sure thing, bye"

Monday, August 12 th

Brett:"Dude do you like ever have to shave your face?"

Trent:"Sure I do. I just don't have to do it so often as you. Btw can I please shave off this moustache?"

Brett:"Absolutely not. You'll learn to love it and appreciate it. Just like I will your baby face"

Saturday, August 17th

Brett:"I have to admit I really love showing off your muscles man. I have been doing it constantly at every occassion. So many people turn their heads to take a peak"

Trent:"Yeah I get it. It helps with the confidence a bit"

Brett:"A bit? I feel like I can beat any fucker whk crosses me"

Trent:"Brett, please don't beat anyone in my body"

Brett:"Just kidding, man. How have you been"

Trent:"Well I tried being consistent with the gym. I think your body is doing pretty well"

Brett:"Daaaamn bro. I look good. You really do take care of my body really well"

Trent:"I was actually thinking I could offer this for money. Swapping with people, doing their routines and then swap back. But that's a talk for another time after we swap back"

Brett:"Yeha, sure. Cool idea. Anyway... how was the streaming?"

Trent:"I don't know, man. I think they are desperste for me to say your catchphrases, but they are so cringe."

Brett:"Nah, you have to do that. That's how you get into Tiktoks and become viral"

Trent:"Honestly. I can't wait to get back to my body and to my life back. So we will swap on September 2nd?

Brett:"Yeah. I suppose. Depends how the work will be etc. Anyway I gotta go man. Talk soon"

Trent to himself:"It feels like he's avoiding me with amswering more and more. Trent rubbed his hairy chest, recalling his sweet soft pecs that he missed.

Thursday, August 22nd

Trent:"Hey, man. How is it going?"

Friday, August 23rd

Trent:"Hey. I just wanna know if you're ok. I just wanna talk about the reversal."

Saturday:"please call me back as soon as possible"

Sunday, August 25th

Brett:"I'm ok"

Trent:"What the hell happened?"

Brett:"Nothing I just felt like I needed a break from phone and that stuff"

Trent:"Brett you didn't answer the phone for 4 days"

Brett:"Ok, I was avoiding you, cause I kinda fucked up and was afraid to tell you"

Trent:'What did you do? Is my body ok?"

Brett:"Yeah your body is unharmed. Nothing that bad. We just had a party in the appartement. Broke the TV and... I had unprotected sex with one girl. She didn't know if she was pregnant or not. So I was waiting. And congrats. You're not gonna be a dad"

Trent:"Brett..."

Brett:"I know. I'm so sorry. Won't happen again. Promise. I just got drunk once and it led to this. I'll be good now"

Trent:"Please, don't do anything anymore. I want to switch back"

Brett:"Nah man. We still gotta week to finish. You said until September 2nd."

Trent:"I didn't know you'd do something like this"

Brett:"Please Trent. I'm begging you. Just that one week"

Trent:"Fine. But don't do anything else!"

Sunday, September 1st

Brett:"Hey. Are you packed yet?"

Trent:"Hey. Not really. I planned on packing tommorow. You can come and help if you got time"

Brett:"Sure. I'll come by"

Monday, September 2nd

Trent arrives to the appartement. Brett is on the couch playing video games

The TV is new and there is a PlayStation on the table

Trent:"You didn't tell me you got back into gaming and that you bought all this."

Brett:"Yeha, I missed it. I thought to myself that you'd like it too. So I bought it. By the way. You should see how the fans dig it"

Trent:"Fans? You're live streaming in my body?"

Brett:"Yeah. The gamers are so into it when I'm flexing in the spare time. I even got a viral Tiktok already!"

Trent:"I think we should swap back, Brett. My life is out of your control now."

Brett:"I'm just using all the goods, man. You don't like my body anymore?"

Trent:"Stop changing the subject. I want to swap back"

Brett:"Ok... but on one condition"

Trent:"You want money?"

Brett;"Nah I want to have sex with my body. I want to have sex with you."

Trent:"You have lost your mind"

Brett:"Oh come on. Admit it, that you thought about it. Who gets the chance to fuck their body? To watch their body in the most animalistic moments from somebody else eyes?" Brett flexes his biceps to let Brett watch

Trent:"Brett..."

Brett stands up and goes towards Trent

Brett:"You know you want to kids thus face. To suck this hard dick" he says holding tightly his hardening bulge

Trent:"I... I do. I want to suck my dick"

Brett:"Atta boy"

They begin making out. The fast movements heading towards the bedroom could be described as chaotic, but for them it was a dance of passion. Brett was ripping his old clothes from his old body was all over his body, kissing his neck. Sucking each part of his skin

The kissed even more

Brett began to be more dominant. He gripped Trent's now receding hairline and pushed him down to suck his dick. Trent was choking. But did his best to swallow most of the shaft he now had. He had his dick in his mouth. He couldn't believe it. He is straight and he is sure of that. But this is absolutely different

Brett took his old body by the neck, choking him. "Say you love being in my body"

Trent:"Brett I can't breathe"

Brett:"Fine, let's do this the hard way"

He turned him around. Trent now on all fours. He knew what was coming, but he wasn't ready

Brett spit in his hand and spread it all over the head od his dick. Ready to penetrate his old hairy hole

Trent:"Brett wait... I... Ahhhhhhhh". Trent screamed in pain

Brett:"Yeah. Sorry about that. I'm just so horny. I love your body, Trent. I love every inch od it. Admit you like mine"

Trent:"Brett, please slow down"

Brett:"Naaah, you'll get used to it in a sex"

Trent:"Please, get lube or something"

Brett spit again to where his dick was penetrating Trent's ass. Brett:"Should do it"

Trent was still in pain, but now a new feeling was making him feel better. The pain was now... pleasant? He wanted to feel more. With every thrust from Brett. He felt like shitting himself and cumming at the same time

Brett:"Admit it. Admit you love being in my body" he sped up. Thrusting painfully.

Trent:"Yeah.... yes..."

Brett:"Louder"

Trent:"I do... I love your body. I love being you"

Brett:"Ahhhh. I'm gonna cum. Turn around. I want to cum on your chest"

Trent turned around. He could feel cum leaking from his dick. And now he saw his old face like he never did before. Brett was so into it. His face was full of lust, rage and mischief.

Brett:"Ahhhh. I'm cumming!"

The cum shot all over Trent. Not only on his chest, but also on his mouth and face

Trent watched in awe what just happened.

Brett:"Whew. That was a ride wasn't it? First gay sex. Am I right?"

Trent:"Brett... I?"

Brett:"Oh sorry. I have to catch my breath. You look so funny with my cum all over you. Haha. By the way. I'm glad you love your new body. You get to keep it"

Trent:"Brett, you said we would swap"

Brett:"Yeah I did. That's true. But after this little 'cum over your face' and 'dick in your ass' we made it permanent"

Trent watched in shock as his old body was still standing on top of him. Breathing rapidly and laughing.

Several months later

Hi my name is Brett. Welcome to my only fans channel. If you got any hairy request, hit me up

Brett in Trent's body:"Well this is just pathetic. Man, I knew you'd crumble. But this just seems you lost your mind"

Trent's massive colleague came next to him:"Hey, bro. What are you looking at?"

Brett:"Just looking how one of my friends threw away their life, kinda sad. But whatever. Their life, not mine"

Friend:"Hey, wanna grab a beer later this evening?"

Brett scanned his friend from top to bottom and smiled:"Sure thing. Be there at eight"

Brett thought about switching it up a little. That body would be amazing. But then he turned around and looked at himself in the mirror. And flexed

Brett:"Nah. I'm Trent. And I'm keeping this body"

A request from messages (another one who waited for a LONG time, sorry guys) for @swappwas

Hope you like it :)

P.S. written late at night on a phone with a very irritating autocorrect, so please excuse the mistakes

[snoopyhughes]

gave you too much but it wasn't enough (qh43)

In which you wonder if your relationship with Quinn might end in death by a thousand cuts.

This is my submission for the eras tour fic challenge hosted by @wyattjohnston and @comphy-and-cozy! I am thrilled to be a part of this event. I received DBATC, and if you know me you know any kind of angst is not my wheelhouse, but I was thrilled to get this challenge and try to create something angsty. It will never be unresolved in my world but hopefully this does the trick :) 2.5k words, fem reader, no warnings that I know of, not proofread.

When Quinn was named the captain of the Vancouver Canucks, you had never felt so proud.

Being with Quinn for two plus years at the time, you were over the moon to see the love of your life, your favorite person in the world, being given such an honor, an honor he worked so hard for, an honor you know he deserved. Quinn was one of the most dedicated people you've ever met. With that dedication of course, comes time. Quinn dedicated countless hours to improving his game, practicing with his teammates, working out in the gym, going on runs, anything he could do to be the best he could be, he was doing it.

Under the moonlight, as you and Quinn celebrated his accomplishment, he promised you that he wouldn't stray away. That his commitment to the team wouldn't outweigh his commitment to you. To being a loving partner. A companion. However, when you woke up, stretching your arm out to feel an empty bed yet again, despite knowing that it couldn't have been much past 7 am, you wondered what went wrong. What happened to cause those promises to crumble. His words to be empty, lifeless. Void of meaning. When did you and Quinn become a couple that told each other lies? Told each other things just because the other person wanted to hear them, not because they genuinely intended to fulfill them.

It was the start of Quinn's second season as the Canucks captain. At first, you thought it was too good to be true. Quinn was thriving in his new role, yet still being the perfect partner. Attentive and on time, compassionate and loving. Now, that version of Quinn is a distant memory, mocking you as you think of him.

It started after the holidays in Quinn's first season of being captain. You chalked it up to post holiday stress and all star weekend buzz, maybe even trade deadline drama. Then the all star game passed, and even the trade deadline. Shortly after you started blaming it on the playoff push, then the playoff loss. And now here you were in November, searching for answers, trying to figure out what happened to the love of your life who turned into a stranger right in front of your own eyes, with nothing you could do about it but watch it happen.

You got yourself ready for work, looking around in the bathroom, on the bedside table, and eventually the kitchen to see if maybe Quinn left you a note, a cup of coffee in your favorite travel mug, a bagel from your favorite bakery around the corner, a sign of his love, signs that he used to never leave the house without showing. Just as you thought, there was nothing. You couldn't even remember the last time you felt Quinn kiss your forehead before he left for God knows what. Another workout, another two mile run after the three miles he did on the treadmill, or locking himself in his office watching film.

Work came and went that day, taking the long way home, dreading going home to an empty house. You thought it would be worse trying to interact with the stranger you lived with, but the silence, the emptiness, the sterile, unwelcoming cold was always worse. You stared up at the traffic lights, wondering if others saw just how foolish you felt. Writing lines to a story that was long over. Grasping on to the book, hoping for a surprise ending, one that would make everything worth it.

To say you were surprised to see Quinn's Porsche in the driveway was an understatement. Usually on practice days he didn't get home until well after 6 pm. You unlocked the front door, not expecting much. Just because he was home, doesn't mean he wasn't locked up in his office, taking notes from last night's game. A game that you never bothered to go to anymore. You knew the other WAGs missed you, people speculated about your absence on the internet, always cruel and judgmental. You couldn't bring yourself to go. You had learned to despise hockey for taking Quinn from you.

You opened the door and were surprised to see Quinn in the kitchen, grabbing a snack. Quinn looked as surprised to see you as you were, almost like he didn't know where you were, or if he even remembered that you lived there. Quiet "hi's" were exchanged, Quinn leaving a soft kiss on your cheek then awkwardly brushing past you to go towards the fridge.

"I thought we could have chicken and pasta for dinner tonight. It sounded good on my way home, I hope that's okay," Quinn muttered out, but already getting a pot of water for pasta ready, as though it didn't matter what you truly wanted. "That's okay," you offered back. "I'm gonna go sit down and read my book. If you need me, just holler." You offered and Quinn gave a nod in response. You wanted to grunt and groan under your breath. How could this be okay with him? It was as though you didn't know him, despite him knowing everything about you.

You tried to distract yourself with your book, but frustrated tears welled up in your eyes. You wiped them away aggressively, not wanting Quinn to see you cry. He couldn't muster up simple greetings, and an I love you would be almost toxic coming out of his mouth. He didn't care anymore, that much was obvious. So why should you?

You didn't know how long time passed, but it was enough time for Quinn to come over with a plate of dinner, unaware of your state. Your heart swelled. Most days, you had been eating dinner at the table, the memories of the two of you loved up on the couch, enjoying your meal and watching your latest binge watch were long gone. It seemed that Quinn was looking for one of those nights, until he saw your tears. His face dropped, setting your plate down and kneeling in front of you.

"Everything okay, sweetheart?" He asked, trying to get you to meet his eyes. You shook your head. How could he be so oblivious? "Are you serious?" You ask and Quinn's expression changed, like you had hurt him. "What do you mean by that? Why would I not be serious?" he asked, causing you to shake your head. "Quinn, things haven't been right between us for months. You leave me everyday without saying goodbye or even kissing me goodbye, you act like spending time with me is the worst thing in the world. I never go to games anymore because I resent hockey for taking you from me. When you were named captain, I was so proud of you I could explode. Now I can't even bare to be in the hockey setting because it reminds me of everything you chose over me. Quinn, I don't even know if you love me anymore." You took a breath after getting it off your chest, but at the same time a wounded gasp came out of Quinn's mouth, like he was a wounded animal.

"You think I don't love you anymore? How could you think that?" he asked, clearly hurt by what you had said. "What else do you want me to believe, Quinn? I can't even remember the last time you told me you loved me. And beyond that, that you ever even showed that you might. I feel like I live with a stranger. You can't honestly tell me that you have felt satisfied in this relationship. That you feel that we love each other to the fullest, that we love spending time together. I haven't felt confident that you feel that way in a long time." At this point you both had tears in your eyes, Quinn feeling devastated by what he was hearing.

Of course Quinn wasn't 100% satisfied with your relationship. He wasn't delusional enough to believe that everything was perfect. He knew that hockey had been his number one priority lately, and he had been trying to make that not be the case.

"Baby, I know I haven't been putting you first lately, and I'm sorry for that. I truly am. But I feel like it's only been this way since the start of the regular season." This had you scoffing immediately. "You don't seriously believe that. Quinn, I could say I have felt this way on and off since January." This caused another hurt gasp to leave Quinn's lips. "Why didn't you say something..." he trailed off, hurt, but he knew the answer.

"I shouldn't have to beg you to love me, Quinn. I shouldn't have to tell you that you have been neglecting me, neglecting us. If you truly can't see what's been going on, I don't know how I can explain it to you. If you think that this relationship has been satisfactory for both parties, I can't change your mind of that. But I won't be treated like this any longer. I think we should spend some time apart." Quinn backed up as soon as the suggestion came out of your mouth, looking like he had been shot.

"You don't mean that, you can't" he gasped. "Quinn, I'm not saying I want to breakup. If I didn't believe this was salvageable, if I didn't believe you could fix this, I would just say I wanted to break up. I believe we can fix this, but I think some time apart would do us good. For us both to figure out what we're looking for and what we truly want. If we find that this is still what we want, that's great, I believe that we will make it work. But this, this... arrangement, this isn't working. I know you seem shocked and hurt, but I know you don't believe that this is working for both of us, or honestly either of us."

"I'll go stay with Petey, I don't want to be in your way," Quinn suggested and you shook your head. "It's okay, really. I can go stay with Brock's girlfriend. Since she lives by herself it won't be awkward for any of us. I do believe we can make this work Quinn, I just don't think we can do it in these conditions." You put your hand on his cheek and his face softened, leaning into your touch.

"Tell me how to fix it, please, I'll do anything," he begged, tears steadily streaming down his face. "I can't tell you that, Quinn. I want you to figure out. To understand where I'm coming from, and want to work to fix it. I haven't been perfect either Quinn, we can both work on this. I shouldn't have to tell you that spending time together once a month isn't enough. I don't know how it can be enough for you, either. If that's okay with you, then this just isn't going to work."

"I'll fix it baby, I promise, I'll do anything." he whispered, almost defeatedly but feeling much better. "I believe you, baby. I do."

-------------------

The flowers started on Mondays. Each Monday, a different bouquet of beautifully arranged flowers arrived at your office. The message was also different each week but it always ended the same way: " I love you, I believe in us." You texted Quinn every week when the flowers came to let him know you got them and to send your thanks. After four weeks of flowers, you were sitting in the front room of Brock's girlfriend, Bella's, apartment, getting stuff done on your computer on a chilly Saturday afternoon. A knock on the door sounded, causing you to pause your work. You had been staying with Bella long enough that you felt comfortable getting the door. Not to mention Bella liked to sleep in super late on weekends, meaning you would be the only one to even be available to open the door.

Your heart sank to your toes as you looked through the peephole, seeing Quinn. He looked different. If your gut was right, he looked tired, a far away look in his eyes, almost as though he missed you as much as you missed him. You didn't want to believe it, wary of getting your heart broken. He was holding something in his hands, fidgeting with it as he waited for the door to open.

"Y/N, hi," Quinn whispered out, taking a step towards you. "Hi Quinn, it's great to see you. How have you been? Would you like to come inside?" You asked, causing him to shake his head. "I can't stay, but thank you for offering," he stopped himself, wanting to keep boundaries in between you two in order for you to be most comfortable.

"It's been a while since we've seen each other, and I wanted to come ask you something. I was hoping you'd like to come to the game tomorrow night? I was hoping this would be enough time, but if not it's okay." His voice was shaky, unsure, almost like he was scared of your response. "I'm not sure, Quinn. Won't it be weird that I'm there? I don't want to cause any drama." You said apprehensively. You were also nervous of what that step in your relationship would be.

"There would be no drama at all, babe. You could just sit with Bell in the stands if you would prefer that, but I know the WAGs have really been missing you. I heard Millsy's daughters have been waiting for you to paint their nails on intermission again," he joked, causing you to smile. His heart melted at the smile on your face, finally feeling fulfilled, that he made you happy.

"I'll be there, Quinn. You can put me in the box. Don't worry about parking, though. I'm sure I can catch a ride with Bella." You both smiled, joyful at the step in the right direction for the both of you. "I can't wait."

________________

For all the time you had spent at Canucks games, you never thought you would be so nervous about what to wear, but here you are. Finally, settling on a stylish Canucks long sleeve with no distinction of Quinn on the shirt, paired with dark jeans and sneakers.

Quinn played a great game, getting a goal and an assist, the Canucks winning 3-1. You were ecstatic. Being back at the games, with your friends, cheering on Quinn, just felt right. It felt like where you were supposed to be. When you met Quinn after the game, he couldn't help himself either, jogging up to you and wrapping his arms around you, lifting you up off the ground. "Quinn!" you exclaimed, laughing out loud. "You did so good!" You laughed as he set you back on the ground. "It's because you were here, my good luck charm." He mused, causing you to blush.

Before he could stop himself, Quinn asked: "come home with me?" Your breath shortened, definitely not expecting that to come out of his mouth. "Are you sure?" You asked him, heart racing at the idea of going home with Quinn, truly where you belonged. "I would want nothing more."

It felt at times that no matter how much you gave to Quinn, it would never be enough. But as you both grew and learned more about yourselves, you both knew that all you could give would always be enough for the both of you.

[facefullofsadness]

she said "fuck me like I'm famous" I said "okay"

model!au

designer!giselle x assistant!reader

prompt - working as aeri uchinaga's assistant makes it hard for you to keep up, maybe in more ways than one

content - smut (power dynamic, pet names/praise kink, sloppy and desperate kinda rough sex, a lot of sucking (fingers, boobs, necks/marking), fingering, tribbing, possessive/corruption kink, a little hair pulling, squirting, multiple rounds/orgasms), alcohol consumption, exposition and tension building

wc - 8165

a/n - I was held at GUNPOINT to write "nda giselle" so here we are! worked diligently on this one so pls enjoy it o7!!! (please dear god I'm begging you)

- consider it my 800 follower special (even though I was supposed to write a 500 follower one but here we are <3, tysm for everything)

- OH MY GOD IVE BEEN WRITING THIS FOR A MONTH IM FREE

- additionally, dopamine is sooooo this fic coded but it's UNRELEASED YEW MFS SM ENTERTAINMENT I HATE YOU-!

an overwhelming rush of noise fills my ears as soon as I enter the busy dressing room.

I knew working as famous model and designer aeri uchinaga's assistant was gonna be loaded, but my first day on the job being the same day as one of miss uchinaga's bi-annual fashion show was not expected. I had to push through an uncountable amount of stylists, designers, assistants, coordinators, and makeup artists to make it to miss uchinaga's personal private dressing room, which was crowded in it of itself, even if she was the only model in that room.

she's famous for having the most grand fashion shows, especially the shows showcasing her summer and winter collections which she hosts twice every year for her designer brand, one around the start of the summertime, and one before the winter season, such as this one today. she spends months preparing for it every year, so it's even a wonder how it was possible for me to show up out of the blue so suddenly, literally on the day of one of the most important days of her year.

"you, rookie, did you bring the earrings set I asked of you?" the assertive voice of a man working on sorting through jewelry asks me, not even looking up from his work.

I stumble through the crowd of people to get to him, fishing the small box containing the earrings out of my bag.

"yessir, I fetched them this morning," I hand him the jewelry. he hums, snatching the box out of my hand to check the contents, continuing on with his sorting without even looking up at me.

"hey you, did you coordinate with the production crew about the lights? those things are important," a woman with a headset and a clipboard approached me.

"ah yes miss, they said they'd readjust the color to a cooler tone," I reply, nodding my head.

"good," a simple response before turning away and scurrying off.

"where's that fucking assistant- you! are you miss uchinaga's assistant?" an aggressive voice calls out for me near the vanity table.

I whip my head around and hurry over, "yessir, I'm her new assistant!"

he groans in annoyance and side eyes me, "whatever, took you long enough. get the hairdryer quickly we don't have all day."

I nod furiously before searching the room overloaded with items for said hairdryer, looking through the cart of hair and makeup equipment.

I hurried back to him and handed over the instrument before commotion increased, a firm and loud voice announcing, "miss uchinaga to proceed with hair and makeup!"

suddenly, the aforementioned lady herself exits a black curtain from across the room, adorning a beautiful black dress that hugs her figure perfectly, lacey sleeves flowing down her arms, her curves accentuated gorgeously.

a lump gets stuck in my throat as she sways her way towards the director's chair propped in front of the vanity. I lower my gaze and bow my head slightly as she passes by me, the breeze that follows her strut hitting my frozen-still body and making my breath hitch in anxiety. she comfortably sits herself down in the black chair, barely noticing my presence.

"hellooooo? rookie? get a fucking grip!" a female voice snaps me out of my trance accompanied by loud clapping in front of my face. "pay attention! can you get the goddamn hand mirror?"

"yes of course, I'm sorry miss!" I nervously pick at my fingers and push through the crowd again, rummaging through the cart for the item she requested.

"god how useless, why did you even choose her boss?" the same stylist gossips towards miss uchinaga.

"choose who? what are you talking about?" her graceful and soft voice replies nonchalantly.

"that nobody over there, searching through the cart like a homeless person in a dumpster, so gross..." the stylist continues, my stomach churning at the vile words.

miss uchinaga hums unsurely, "be more specific on who you're talking about, I don't have time for useless banter."

the stylist clears her throat, "your, assistant, I guess if that's what you can call whoever that thing is."

my hands clench into fists at the vicious comments she keeps making until miss uchinaga says, "she's here for a reason isn't she? means she's qualified."

the short and simple response shuts the stylist up quickly, returning to her work. I reluctantly hand the mirror over to her, her grip aggressive as she snatches the item from my hand. and I continue to meet the demands of the people in the busy room, running back and forth fetching things for people and assisting in helping everyone as best as I could.

it had to have been at least two hours of constant movement and working, everyone in that room not stopping for even a second. eventually, all the work that needed to be done was finished and we all had to proceed to the stage and start the show. I was tasked to stay behind and wait for miss uchinaga as her assistant, ready to help her with anything she needed.

and so gradually, the room had cleared of all the people, leaving an unfamiliar silence to hang in the air, my ears almost ringing from the emptiness. I stood there nearly in the middle of the room, feet glued to the floor and my head hanging down, eyes affixed onto my shoes. only but the soft rustling movement of the woman in front of me was faintly heard.

her melodious humming filled the room warmly, a comfortable tune dancing off her lips as she touched herself up and checked her appearance. I continue to accompany her and leave her to do her own thing, more focused on the carpet under where I stand.

"hey, come here will you?" the soft sounding but firm request summons me forward, moving to stand behind her chair.

"m-miss uchinaga?" I curse under my breath at the stutter, embarrassed by it.

she seemingly dismisses the mistake and continues, "you're my new assistant, aren't you?"

I gain enough confidence to lift my gaze and look at her through the mirror, the woman still diligently observing herself, "yes miss, I am."

"what's your name then assistant?" she fixes her hair one last time and adjusts her jewelry before turning and facing me, leaning back against the vanity with her arms crossed.

"y/n l/n miss..." my gaze falters under her intense stare, eyes falling towards the floor again.

her hum in curiosity makes my eyes shoot back up towards her face.

"huh." she hums, observant gaze trailing my figure, up and down slowly.

I feel small under her stare, wanting to curl up and let the earth swallow me whole, feeling like aeri uchinaga is tearing me apart bit by bit with her critical eyes.

instead, a small but obvious smirk tugs at her lips, "cute."

a furious blush climbs my cheeks and spreads across my face at her quick insignificant comment that still had made my heart swell and increase the speed at which it beat.

before any more words could be exchanged, she pushes herself off the table, handing her phone and keys to me, "you're with me, stand backstage and just watch, drive me home after."

I put her items into my bag and nod, following her out of the room and towards the stage. a cacophony of sounds fill the room once again as we hurriedly make our way there, people scrambling around with last minute touch-ups on their models.

the production crew checks in with miss uchinaga, confirming the setup of the stage from the lights to the props, as well as the flow of the show and every other detail she demanded information on. I stand right behind her and listen in, making sure if she needs anything I'd be ready to assist. they finish their discussion swiftly, the crew rushing back to their stations and miss uchinaga ushering the two of us towards an empty area with a clear view of the stage, the audience members sitting around and chatting having been in sight as well.

"you get the princess treatment for today pretty," she turns to me, a pleased look on her face.

the clutch on my bag hardens at her soft words, feeling my face heat up, "th-thank you, miss uchinaga…"

"y/n, call me aeri," her voice is gentle but low as she tells me what to do.

I stutter in response, "but, miss uchinaga, I'm- I'm not… I don't think it's that appropriate y-yet…"

"please y/n, we're gonna be together for a while so you should get used to saying my name, darling," she takes the smallest step towards me, her presence towering over me.

I feel her stare drill holes into my soul, her intimidating aura overwhelming me. she traps me when I look up into her eyes, unable to move my sight away from her. my stomach fills with butterflies, the beautiful goddess before me having such an alluring air to her. even in this crowded venue, filled to the brim with busy people, they're all tuned out, feeling like me and her were the only two to exist in this moment.

fuck, how am I supposed to work with her?

"got that, cutie?" the pet names continuing to make me want to implode.

I swallow and nod pathetically, "mhm."

"say my name then, pretty," she demands, her siren-like eyes searing my skin.

"a-aeri…"

"good girl, y/n."

oh my god, what the fuck.

"miss uchinaga!" a voice calls for her, snapping me out of the trance she put me under.

the woman in front of me huffs and turns towards the man with a headset that had poked his head into the room, searching for her.

"miss, you're on soon," he pants, motioning for her to get moving.

she raises her eyebrows and nods slightly at him in approval, shooing him away before she turns back to me.

"enjoy the show okay?" her tone is calm and comforting, laying a gentle hand on my shoulder and patting me, giving it a final squeeze, strutting away after I nod my head at her request.

the clicking of her heels fades and once she's completely out of sight, I release a deep breath I hadn't realized I'd been holding in. I clutch at my heart, bunching up the material of my sweater, feeling it beat out of my chest. my head is dizzy and my shoulder burns, the effect and touch she had on me still lingering, feeling my knees buckle at the mere thought of her, leaning back against a nearby wall for stability.

though I didn't have long to recover as the lights on the stage dimmed and the runway lit up, whispering from backstage heard faintly as music starts, the first model swaying their way onto the catwalk. I try my best to ignore the pounding of my heart as aeri uchinaga's winter collection is displayed on the models that walk across the stage.

the outfits are beautiful, stylish coats and jackets adorning the range of models, the clothes all dark colors but still with a certain attractive charm. arrangements of sweaters, slacks, and bags that compliment every outfit perfectly, each piece meticulously and specifically picked out to match each other. I'm mesmerized by the variety of fashion that these models are crowned in, aeri and her team's hard work apparent with the quality and effort put into every thread.

I become so engrossed and enamored by the show, that as soon as it starts does it end, the last of the models strutting off the stage finally as the winter collection showcase concludes. the music continues however, aeri suddenly appearing, swaying her way into the middle of the runway as the audience applauds. her ethereal aura palpable, presence so grand even while she's simply walking. making it to the center, she gives the audience a graceful bow, a charming smile, and an elegant wave before turning and sashaying off the stage once again.

mid my own applause does aeri emerge from the curtain separating me and the main part of the backstage area, pushing her curtain bangs out of her face with her fingers.

"how was it, princess?" she asks genuinely, tilting her head to the side as she awaits my answer.

my heart begins to pound once again, feeling like she really wanted to hear my honest opinion.

"not that how I think matters-" she immediately interrupts me.

"why wouldn't it? you're practically becoming my second-in-command, I wanna know how you think, see how truly compatible we are."

a sweet smile emerges onto her cherry colored lips, eyes and expression expectant for my response.

I nervously reply, "that's... really thoughtful of you, a-aeri."

her soft giggle permeates through the small space, my chest thumping at the sound, "don't mention it, just tell me how you feel."

"well, I think it was truly excellent," I state confidently.

her face looks pleased, but she looks as if she was waiting for more details, and so I continue, "the color palate was so tasteful, you and the brand have always been good at darker colors, I know that's your specialty. though they can be perceived as dull, it was so masterfully crafted that it didn't feel boring in the slightest. it was even elevated if I can say, accessories perfectly matching with each outfit, from the jewelry to the bags, incredible."

I got so lost in my enthusiasm about the display that I had practically spaced out, unaware to the joyous woman in front of me. looking back at her, an excited expression lay on her face, cheeks plump and smile wide watching as I rambled. her crescent eyes smiled at me, hair falling perfectly around her face and resting at her shoulders, just so beautifully happy.

feeling flustered, I stutter, "oh! I uhh, didn't mean to ramble so much, miss uch- a- aeri... I apologize."

"don't, I like it," whispering simply.

under her heart-throbbing stare, I look away, "we-well! we must get going, there's still your after party to attend."

she groans, "ughhh, fuck the after party, I don't care. too tired anyway, bossing people around all day to get things right is exhausting."

I return my gaze back towards the bored-looking woman, "but this is still your event, it might be strange if you're absent."

"why, are you gonna stop me? hm doll?" her eyes are lethal staring into me.

"m-miss... all I'm saying is the people might be disappointed... I can't stop whatever you'd like to do however, you're the boss of course..."

"mhm, and don't forget that okay? you listen to me," aeri's tone is firm and dangerous, dripping with authority but also sensuality, suddenly appearing almost right against me.

she crosses an arm over her chest and rests her other arm's elbow on it, her free hand slowly pointing a finger at my wide-eyed expression.

"got that, darling?" she uses the stray digit to tilt my head up, placing it under my chin, her touch igniting a fire on my skin.

I pathetically hum in response, sounding closer to a terrified squeak more than anything.

"you listen so well, don't you?" she smiles almost sinisterly, taking her fingertip and tapping it cutely on my nose.

she steps back slightly, giving me space again to which I release a deep breath, feeling like I can breathe.

aeri sighs annoyedly, "but you're right, my absence at my OWN show's after party is peculiar, but I don't wanna go. truly too exhausted for it. let's go home."

"I'll have to inform the organizers that you won't be attending. some important individuals were hoping to talk to you tonight," I respond, ever-so-slightly gaining back my composure.

"mm-mm, don't stress yourself about it," she shakes her head, resting her hands on her hips, "I'll shoot them a text and make the team send out packages with letters of me apologizing for it, no big deal."

"still aeri, I have to organize that-"

"I told you already y/n-ie, I got it, don't worry."

I let her win, a serious and unmoving expression on her face, "alright."

she gives a slight nod of approval, suddenly taking my hand gently, holding me by my fingers and leisurely dragging the two of us off. I let her guide me, aeri saying her goodbyes and goodnights to the hard-working team, telling certain individuals she would be contacting them in a bit to inform them of her absence. she leads me through the entire venue, seemingly having the most inconspicuous route to her car memorized, avoiding as many people as possible.

we arrive at the parking garage, her matte black sports car emerging into view.

"I'm driving?" I ask hesitantly.

she hums in approval, "never driven something like this before have you?"

the nervous nature apparent in my tone of voice, "that obvious?"

a giggle echoes through the garage full of expensive, high-end vehicles, "no worries darling, just think of a normal car with a bit more kick."

she was right, I had never driven such an expensive and sleek looking vehicle before, nervous to the possibility that I could damage it, especially knowing it was aeri's car.

it was almost as if she read my mind, "I have at least a handful more that you can crash, it's no problem if it gets damaged."

I choke and cough, "I'd hope I wouldn't get into a car crash!"

she turns and smiles at me, arriving in front of the vehicle, "you won't, of course you won't."

I reluctantly nod, dragging myself over and opening the passenger side's door, aeri climbing in with a small grin. I close the door, making my way over to the driver's seat, trying to breathe and calm my nerves. I settle into the custom printed leather seats, dark red embroidery stitched into the pristine interior, a fresh and clean smell wafting through the car.

"it is a ferrari though, so maybe don't damage it," she comments quietly, looking over at the woman whose legs are crossed and hands placed neatly on her lap, head leaning back against the seat with her eyes closed.

aeri is so incredibly nonchalant about the situation, it somehow comforts me, starting up the car and gaining enough courage to start driving. the trip back to her place was silent, peaceful cruising through the city, illuminated by the street lights, the two of us quiet in the car. she was right, it wasn't too bad but it felt like I could speed up and go too fast at any moment, so I tried to get a feel of how the vehicle operated, focusing on getting used to it. every other stoplight, I'd check the gps and then up at aeri, her resting figure so serene, the girl so still and pretty, unsure if she was really asleep or just resting her eyes.

her beauty is so utterly attractive and alluring, making my pulse rise every time I lay my eyes on her. what trouble will I possibly encounter working for this stunning woman? and how long will I survive?

almost in the blink of an eye, we arrive at her apartment complex. I find a parking space for the car, skipping the valet according to aeri's instruction, not wanting anyone else to touch her car. once parked, I finally let out a sigh, turning to my boss whose eyes flutter open, feeling the car's movement stop.

elegantly, like a princess, she sits upright and brushes stray hairs from her face, "home?" her voice raspy.

I nod carefully, climbing out of the car and opening her door. she tiredly stumbles out as I hold out my hand for her to grasp, taking it and stabilizing herself. her touch ignites my skin once again, her fingers lacing around mine once she's standing, shooting me a charming smile.

once again, I felt my stomach flutter, my whole body just succumbing to the ravishing woman whose hand was firmly holding mine, pulling me towards the elevator up to the penthouse. the ding of the elevator arriving and opening up to her place forced me back to reality, eyes widening at the sight of the grand residence.

walking inside and removing our heels, I got to absorb the surroundings. the motion detected light shone over us, not too bright but enough to outline the rest of the place. it was tall and spacious, high roofs supported by shiny white pillars, the wooden floors dark and clean, grand piano next to the comfortable array of sofas and armchairs, expensive accessories from the brand decorating the empty spaces on the walls, the breathtaking view over the city being the most prominent feature, large glass window panes displaying the incredible sight, leaving me in utter awe.

"like it? it's pretty nice," aeri's softly asks from beside me.

"you've got a magnificent place," I reply, still quite awestruck.

she chuckles once, letting go of my hand and walking forward, flipping the switches that dimly light up the living room in a warm tone, "you're a very honest individual, aren't you y/n?"

"is that a bad thing?" you ask, a little reluctantly, following her around.

"it's exactly the type of thing that's necessary in this industry, especially since you're working for me. honesty and transparency are some of the biggest traits I value out of my employees, within people in general really," she flips on the light switch to her big walk-in closet, "and you're my direct right hand, the most important person that I need to have be honest with me."

I stand by the door, taking in the room. it was such a large room for solely being a closet, clothes, accessories, and shoes all lined up against the walls, an almost never-ending selection presented on display. it was set-up like a designer store, except this was aeri uchinaga's own personal closet in her home.

she stood in front of a vanity area on the other side of the room, tiredly removing her jewelry from herself, hearing the metal rings clang against the marble countertop. she was quite careless with the items, throwing them off of her with little to no regard for damage, making me cringe slightly, worried they might break.

"come sit," she calls me over softly, motioning with her hand behind her towards the seating at the middle of the room.

I walk over, observing her diligently remove her earrings, sitting down with my legs crossed, once again watching her through the mirror.

"have you eaten yet, y/n?" the unexpected question startles me slightly.

"I can't remember the last time I have today," I respond honestly.

she hums, "well, let me get cleaned up and share dinner together then, shall we?"

I blink confusedly, eyes wide, looking like a deer in headlights at what she said.

"I need to get to know you more anyway, I think while I have you here, it's as good a time as any."

"it's quite late and you're tired, I should get going home..." I bite the inside of my cheek, her eyes staring back at me through the reflection.

"I insist," her voice is firm.

I gulp down my nervousness, nodding my head at her, aeri smiling at me, "good."

I watch as she reaches around to the zipper on the back of her dress, finished with the removal of her jewelry. her fingers struggle to get a good hold onto the metal and she calls me over.

"y/n, come help me with this zipper," aeri's firm but alluring voice demands me, urging me to walk up behind her, her back filling my view.

I swallow down a lump in my throat as my shaky hands reach up towards the metal resting at the top of her back. I grip the zipper and slowly pull downwards, being careful not to drag too quickly or damage the material of the designer dress. I feel the intense stare of my boss drill holes into me through the mirror, her hands moving her hair out of the way.

"nice and slow pretty, don't wanna damage anything do you?" her raspy voice fills my ears.

"y-yes ma'am," I stutter out, continuing to unzip her dress.

I feel sweat come from my palms, the speed at which I was unzipping her dress achingly slow, even though it wasn't even that gradual. carefully, aeri's back exposed itself, her milky skin emerging into view. my hands feel unsteady as they work, my breathing becoming uneven too, nervous to mess up and also seeing the woman's bare back. I try to simply focus on the task at hand, staring directly at the zipper and nothing else.

"you got it, doing so well for me," aeri deeply breathes out, her eyes half-lidded and seductive through the reflection.

her gaze makes me absolutely weak, I feel fucking insane.

eventually, the torture is over though, reaching the end of the zipper's trail.

I step back and stutter, "y-you can finish cl-cleaning up, I'll wait in the living room!"

I turn away and speed walk out of the closet, patting my skin dry from the nervous sweat, plopping myself down on the sofa and covering my face with my clammy hands. oh my god I wanna scream. what the actual fuck am I getting myself into?

the night calmed down slightly. we shared a light dinner while aeri asked questions about me, why I was interested in the position, what my goals are, what do I wanna learn from working with her, how long I plan to work for her, all answers which she seemed to be satisfied with. she asked about me personally too, where I'm from, my background, my education, my interests, all of which she was intrigued by.

we talked quite normally for a few hours, having had a couple of drinks already, feeling the intoxication climb up slowly. eventually, we moved to the couch to converse more comfortably. she sat right down next to me, handing me a glass.

"hoping you enjoy red wine too," aeri settles close to me, leaning against her arm propped up on the back of the couch, taking a sip from her glass.

I take a sip from mine, "it's sweet so I'm happy."

"ah good, I like a drink just not when it tastes like it," she giggles.

"oh," she readjusts herself, "let me ask you, are there any limits or boundaries you'd like to set for yourself with me right now?"

her question catches me off guard, "I'm sorry?" I ask, almost confused.

she catches the puzzled sound in my voice, "well, I wanna know if there's anything you wouldn't wanna do. I'll have you running a lot of different errands, some of them you could say are... physically taxing?"

her voice lingers through the dimly lit room, her face illuminated by the shine of the moon and city lights through the window, "I'm simply curious is all miss l/n, could and would you do any and everything for me?"

there's something sinister in the way she talks, her voice deep, the words coming from her throat in an almost inaudible rasp, but loud enough to resonate through my head. her question rings in my ears, what could she mean?

"I will perform any task you set for me to the best of my capability," I give her a simple and general answer to respond, unsure of what else I can say.

she hums, seemingly pondering, her face looking quite deep into thought. she looks up at me, capturing my stare with hers, the energy suddenly shifting when we lock eyes. a smirk tugs at the corner of her lip slowly, making my stomach flip. her gaze is filled with an allure of seduction, her sudden fingertip tracing my exposed knee close to her making me jolt in surprise, a chill running down my back.

"any task huh?"

my breath hitches when the cold condensation of her wine drips onto my knee, trailing down my leg. she taps her glass against my knee again, droplets splashing off and running down my skin, making me shiver slightly. I watch as she lifts the glass off of me and gulps down another sip of the sweet alcohol, her lips tainted red.

I hum in agreement to the question, the sound coming from my lips almost inaudible, getting stuck in my throat from how flustered I became.

she holds her glass with her other hand now, returning the hand that touched my knee back to it and placing it on me, her fingers dragging across my skin, caressing it, "god, you're cute."

her fingers trail up and down the exposed part of my thigh, playing very slightly with the hem of my skirt, not trailing any further up. her touch absolutely ignites me on the inside, constant chills going through me, my breathing becoming uneven.

"aeri..." I whisper quietly, the feeling of her touching me too much for me to handle.

"what is it darling? use your words," her voice is soft but menacing, hand grabbing the underside of my knee to pull me closer to her, my body pushed up against her.

I gasp at the movement, almost spilling my wine. she looks down at me, a hazy look in her half-open siren eyes, her lips slightly parted and wet as she licks them clean. my pulse rises impossibly high, feeling like my heart is about to burst out of my chest, aeri's hand trailing higher on my thigh, crawling slowly under my skirt.

I tear my gaze away from her stare and grip her wrist, clearing my throat, "a-aeri... I don't think we should be this close..."

she grabs my wrist back, sliding her hand into mine and interlacing our fingers, bringing my hand to her mouth, "well pretty, I just can't help it you know?"

I swallow down the lump in my throat and tense as her plump lips press against my hand, her eyes fluttering shut as she kisses it achingly slow. the way she moves is so mesmerizing, her head craning to the side as she kisses it again, the sound of her releasing her lips from my skin resonates, feeling the wet spot she left on me.

I break out of the spell she has me under and slip my hand from her grasp, gripping the hem of my skirt down, crossing my legs tightly as the desire for her grew within me, "we should call it a night, you've already had a few drinks..."

she doesn't let up, fingers dragging across my arm, "I just need to know more about you y/n, aren't you curious too?"

I shiver at her question, "aeri... I can't... we shouldn't..."

"what's stopping us?" she grabs the glass out of my hand and places both of them on the coffee table, freeing our hands.

she pulls me by the collar of my sweater, her face coming closer to mine.

her lips hover right over mine as she whispers against them, "no one has to know."

I place my hands against her chest, holding her back from coming any closer to me, my breathing shaky, "you... you don't want this... you're just drunk aeri..."

"I do, I do want this y/n. push me away if you don't want this too," she holds one of my wrists, "please... stop me."

her voice whispered to me, the pleading desperation in her tone evident. and fuck me, it worked, my entire body burning, feeling myself start to throb.

I hold in my breath, resting my forehead against hers, "I... I do want this too, I don't want you to stop..."

there's a glint in aeri's eyes at my words, her big hand immediately grasping my neck and pulling me into her, smashing her blood red lips against mine. the kiss is greedy and desperate, her mouth molding against mine sloppily, our breathing heavy as tiny noises escape my throat. I taste the sweet red wine on her juicy soft lips as I melt further into her, feeling my entire body heat up in desire, clutching at her tank top and bunching it up in my hands, pulling her closer, making sure there's absolutely no space in between us. her other hand grips under my knee, pulling me into her lap, straddling her as she tilts her head to the side to make out deeply with me.

her hand grips my thigh under my skirt tightly, other hand pulling my neck in as she slips her tongue into my wet mouth. I sigh out at the intrusion, letting her move freely against my needy tongue. the flavor of alcohol and saliva intoxicate me completely, her deep groans vibrating in my mouth, making me whimper in response against her lips. my hands thread through her perfectly soft hair while both of her hands grip my thighs, rubbing them up and down before squeezing my hips, finally landing on my exposed waist, sliding under my cropped sweater, and guiding me on her lap.

I moan deeply against her, my core grinding on hers, aeri also releasing a long pleasured groan at the sensation. we finally pull away, leaning our foreheads against each other as we both pant, out of breath.

"fuck y/n, you're perfect," she sighs out, chest rising and falling, clutching the locks of her hair tightly to keep her close to me.

"aeri, I need you..." I desperately whine, my core aching painfully.

I pull back slightly to look her in the eyes and they're dark, clouded with lust and desire, which makes the pulsing between my thighs pound harder.

her voice is low and sultry, "tell me how badly."

the grip on my waist tightens as she guides my body once again, brushing my center against her own, making both of us moan.

"so, fucking, badly," I gasp out with each grind of my hips.

her hands guide me slowly but roughly, the contact of our clothed cores driving me insane, my stomach wanting to explode from the tightness. I grip her tightly as she continues to grind me against her, her fingers digging into my skin, my eyes squinted shut as the pleasure gradually but intensely builds inside me. I try to keep my eyes open, looking down at her focused stare, so hypnotized by the moment, feeling her gaze memorize the look of desire painted all over my face.

"let me help you," she whispers against my chest, one hand pulling my sweater up and over my breasts.

I release a hand from her hair and grip her shoulder with a gasp, the one unclasping my bra.

"it's okay," her teeth pulling my bra off, "trust me beautiful, I've got you."

her words make me lighten my hold on her shoulder, allowing her to keep going. she hums softly before exposing my boobs to the air, turning my cheeks pink in embarrassment. it swiftly washes away though as aeri's lips mumble against my skin.

"so pretty," my breath hitches when she attaches her mouth to my nipple, sucking the bud in and flicking her hot wet tongue against it.

I moan out loudly, the sensation had my eyes rolling back, arching myself into her as I grinded my own hips against her lap. her tongue swirled around my nipple, the saliva trailing down my chest, aeri using it to spread against my entire tit. I pant as she harshly but quickly bites down around my bud, soothing the shocking pain with her warm muscle. she switches to my other boob, spitting onto my nipple before swiping her tongue, sucking my entire tit into her mouth as she plays with the bud on her tongue.

"fuck aeri..." I whine in pleasure, both of my hands gripping at her shoulders, fingernails digging into them.

"like that?" she asks incoherently against my boob.

I nod mindlessly as I feel her smile against my chest, "already losing your mind huh? so sensitive baby."

she chuckles deeply, the sound vibrating on her tongue as it moves against my nipple. with one hand on my waist, she brings her other hand under my skirt again, creeping up my inner thigh and caressing her knuckle against my clothed clit. I jolt in her hold, biting down on my lip to suppress an embarrassingly loud whimper.

"don't hold back, let me hear you," she detaches from my chest, cupping my face and pulling me in.

her fingertip traces against my slit, "you're so fucking wet darling, you did want this, didn't you?"

"uh huh," I pant out, her finger pressing against my clit.

"fuck, I'm gonna ruin you."

aeri kisses me again, locking lips with mine, slipping her tongue into my mouth as I return her desperation with as much passion, thrashing my tongue back against hers. I feel her carefully push my panties to the side, two fingers sliding around my clit and dipping in and out of my slick slit, getting them wet from my dripping pussy.

"god you are soaked, you poor thing..." she teases after releasing me from her lips, teeth dragging my bottom lip, "must ache so bad."

"it does, fuck it does, aeri please please please," I beg desperately, "please fuck me..."

she groans against my lips, "you are so pretty when you beg, I'm gonna get so addicted to every part of you."

I whimper when she pinches my clit, soothing it when she rubs it in circles, "especially with this perfect pussy of yours."

aeri starts to leave wet kisses across my neck as her fingers flick my clit back and forth, gradually getting faster. I lace my fingers through her hair, gripping her head against my neck as my other hand clutches onto her upper arm for support as she continues to play with my pussy. I'm gasping for air, feeling the breath knocked out of me with how overwhelming the sensation of pleasure within me grows. her fingers slide down to my opening, gathering the slick and slapping her hand against my folds.

she inserts those two fingers inside of me, slipping them in easily due to my wetness, her digits completely sheathed by my walls. I let out a blissful cry at the action, digging my nails into her skin, making her hiss.

she groans with me, "my god you're so tight, your pussy just sucked me in. you feel perfect around me."

carefully, aeri draws her digits back, thumb rubbing at my clit, before sinking them inside me again, fingertips landing against that spot so delicious that it pulls a moan of delight from my lips. her tongue drags across the length of my perspiring neck, hand working smoothly against my sopping cunt.

"fuck! right there aeri yes, so good..." I sigh breathlessly, hips grinding back against her hand.

"taking me so well princess, that's it," she coos.

she starts speeding up, a consistent but accelerating pace as she plunges in and out of my hole, the sounds of our pants and gushing of my entrance filling my ears, aeri's lips against my jaw.

she trails her lips up to my ear and whispers, "such a good girl."

her voice drips with seduction, making my eyes roll back harder when she slips in a third finger. I release a euphoric scream, the intrusion full of pain and pleasure as it stretches me open, burning like hellfire but felt so unfathomably heavenly.

"you're gonna take everything I give you darling, fuck I'm going insane," immediately thrusting her fingers into me swiftly.

"ohhhhh goddddd..." one long continuous loud moan is forced from my throat, each pound of her hand sending me into oblivion.

I bounce on her hand, her long thick digits curling perfectly inside of my core, spilling cum all over her palm, dripping down onto her thighs. she feels so unbelievably good, her moaning right next to my ear, feeling pleasure just from watching and fucking me, her sounds continuing to impossibly turn me on.

"gonna cum on my fingers, doll? wanna make a mess in my lap?" her voice breathy and raspy, questions sounding more like a demand.

I mumble an affirmative response, something I doubt she can even make out properly, a dark chuckle in my ear at my incoherence. her lips trail down my neck, placing sloppy markings across my collar, lifting my top up again and feeling her hot tongue lap rhythmically against my nipple. her hand spread wide to capture my boobs, sucking both buds into her mouth and brushing her teeth down against them, switching between flicking her tongue and biting down on my hardened nipples.

the sensations drive me into a blinding release of ecstasy, my eyes screwed shut and mouth hanging open, screaming out in complete and utter bliss as my pussy gushed around aeri's skillful hand, drenching the both of us. my head is thrown back while my hands claw at the woman holding me close, mouth still working on my chest, vibrations against my nipples from her moaning while she fucks me through my intense climax.

she gradually lessens the speed at which she thrusts into me, coming to a halt when she achingly slowly pulls her dripping fingers out of my leaking cunt and releases with a pop, cum flowing out with her digits. she drags her fingers across my slit, spreading my slick around the entire area, rubbing against my sensitive bundle of nerves. I thrash at the stimulation, the feeling too much for my body, too soon.

she pulls her hand back from my core, her mouth releasing from my chest so she can bring the hand up to her lips, sticking her tongue out and letting her fingers drag across it, licking up every drop of cum on her digits. even though my vision is hazy, the sight makes me gulp, feeling my center pulsate. I collapse onto her as she lets me fall into her neck, nose brushing against her nape. my body feels exhausted, her hands sliding under my sweater and wrapping her toned arms around me, hugging my limp figure while rubbing my back soothingly.

aeri kisses my shoulder, her lips mumbling against it, "good girl."

I bury my face into her warm neck, nuzzling my face against her skin as I try to regain my energy, resisting passing out. slowly, I drag my head away, resting my forehead against hers with my eyes still closed, relishing in the serenity for just a second.

I flutter my eyes open just enough to see her, a soft look on her face as she quietly asks on my lips, "are you okay, princess?"

her concern for me send butterflies erupting in my stomach, feeling so cared for, a contrast to her demeanor just a little while ago.

I sigh out a response of affirmation before breathing out, "one more..."

the two words ring in aeri's ears, the sweet look on her face shifting ominously.

"you mean it," it was more of a statement than a question.

I nod and a smirk spreads across her lips.

she pulls me up, sliding her shorts and panties down her legs, slipping your underwear off of me too, "good, because I'm throbbing like crazy and I need you to ease the ache."

aeri maneuvers our bodies until our legs are intertwined, holding me by my waist as my pussy hovers over hers. she slides her fingers up her slit, letting out a breathy sigh, before bringing her dripping digits up to my lips.

"taste what you've done," opening my mouth and sucking on her fingers, cleaning them of her delectable nectar.

she watches intently as my tongue works around her fingers, her eyes blown with desire and her wet lips stained red, slightly parted as I slowly blink up at her, meeting her stare.

"how fucking obedient, you just wanna be mine don't you? you're gonna love working for me, I'm gonna use you however I want and you'll enjoy it because you're mine, got it?" she growls, gripping my jaw with her fingers still in my mouth, pulling my face closer, "I own you y/n l/n."

"all yours..." I choke on her digits.

her hand slips from my face, returning to my waist and pulling me down to her pussy, guiding me to slide against her slippery core. moans drag out from both of our mouths, my forehead resting on hers, overstimulation still present in my body as our clits brush against each other, aeri grinding our cunts again. her fingers dig into my sides, sliding her pussy upwards to meet the grind of my hips. I reciprocate the motion, moving to meet her thrusts, our cunt juices mixing with one another.

the feeling is so orgasmic, panting onto each others lips as I fuck myself against her, the squelching sounds loud from our slippery centers. she cries moans onto my lips, threading my fingers through her soft dampened hair, massaging her head and pulling her into a messy makeout, swallowing her pleasurable noises. I suck on her tongue as she increases our pace, forcing my body to keep up with her grinding, her nails scratching my skin.

I release her tongue with a pop, her saliva coating my mouth as she groans out at every other thrust, "you feel- so fucking- good, ugh y/n!"

"aeri, aeri, aeri, aeri..." I chant her name incomprehensibly.

her speed becomes relentless, wanting more control as she lifts me up and pins me down against the sofa, my back against the plush cushions and hands falling from her hair, aeri's legs and entire body holding me down as she drills me harder. our cunts are impossibly slick, sliding against each other so pleasurably, our clits perfectly making out messily, wetness continuing to leak from our pussies. she brings her hand to grasp my thigh, hugging my leg to her body, the other hand grabbing a handful of my hair and pulling my head back. my hands clutch the material of her thin shirt, holding it hard enough to tear, not that anything other than aeri fucking me right now matters.

"I'm going fucking feral over this pussy, you're so perfect doll, you're all mine," she sounds so aggressive yet sexy as she ruins me.

the woman above me looks so strikingly other-worldly, the shine of her sweaty skin leaving her glowing in the faint lighting, her dampened hair flowing across her body, stray bangs sticking to her forehead, her strong arms gripping me possessively, her chest bouncing up and down so close to my heated face, her drenched and aching core slipping perfectly against mine. aeri uchinaga feels, looks, and is absolutely ethereal.

I feel my stomach tighten as her pace is unstoppable, so fast the couch even jerks from the movement. our moans are cries, screams of loud and complete bliss, her lips plump and hanging open, eyes rolled all the way back.

"I'm gonna fucking cum, I'm gonna fucking cum!" aeri cries with her raspy throat.

"please, please, cum with me!" I beg her, voice hoarse but audible, her eyes locking onto mine.

we stare into each other's eyes as we both burst, cum gushing from our pussies, squirting against our cunts. my vision goes blank and I see a blinding white light surge through my head, my body thrashing from the pleasure, the sensations causing screams to rip from my throat, hearing aeri groan just as delightfully. I feel our cum flow down my thighs, soaking my skirt and the cushion under us, unable to move regardless as my hands release their grip on her torn shirt.

I fall totally limp against the couch, aftershocks of the orgasm coursing through my body, making my entire figure jerk every so often. aeri collapses on top of me, carefully still, her hands releasing their tight grips on me, her head falling into the pillow I lay on, face against my cheek, her nose bumping my skin. her hot heavy gasps for air hit the side of my face as I bring my hand up to play with her hair, caressing her head.

suddenly, her arms slip under my sweater and wrap around my torso, lifting me up and flipping us over. the action makes me squeal, my limp body now resting on top of her thumping chest, breasts soft against mine. I melt into her warm embrace, feeling my body's exhaustion crawl over me, wanting to consume me into slumber. aeri starts her pleasant humming, vibrations from her chest transferring to mine, feeling my body ease and slowly succumb to sleep.

"my perfect girl, you're gonna be an amazing assistant, we're gonna work so well together," she whispers.

I hum in response and she pats my back, giving me approval to rest.

her hands caress me soothingly, kissing my forehead, "sleep with me, no one has to know."

[sweetlittlefawntears]

the grave ♱

au : i’m really upset cuz there’s like no good ghostface ellie fics … just ones where she kills ur entire family which is um. definitely interesting so i took it upon myself to write one hehehe i hope u all enjoy this one !

cw : fem reader x ghostface ellie, blood, murder, ellie is kinda a perv, panty stealing, breaking and entering, strap on sex, ellie is a bit degrading, slapping, (not hard), murder obviously but don’t worry i didn’t describe it in detail at all its just hinted at, intentional lowercase, that’s it i think uhhh …

wc : 2.5k ♡

౨ৎ ever since you moved into a new apartment in new york, you had been super scared to live all on your own. it was your first time living by yourself, just a freshly out of the house person making it through life and college in this huge city. and when there started being murders documented near your apartment building, you started to search for a roommate. you set up an ad on the bulletin in the front lobby of your apartment, and soon you were living with another girl who also attended the school you went to. your best friend dina had told you about her, and when you two met you instantly clicked. her name was ellie. ellie williams.

౨ৎ she was a very attractive 20 year old, with auburn hair that reached her shoulders, and eyes deep and green like sea glass. she had many tattoos, and was a deep and interesting person. but she had a secret. she was behind every murder that had happened in the past months. she loved seeing you scared over the thought that someone might be able to break into your now shared apartment and kill you or ellie, and she loved getting to be the one to comfort you.

౨ৎ every time you tried to talk to ellie out of going out at night, she brushed you off, insisting she’d be fine. truth was, she wasn’t really going to bars or the library or anything like the sort of what she told you. instead, she was plotting to kill her next victim. she didn’t just kill randomly. she killed people who were horrible. people who were sex offenders, people who hurt you…people who got too close to you…and more. she tried to not kill every night, as it made you too worried to be away from her for too long.

౨ৎ you kept up with all the murders, wanting to figure out who did them. however, you knew you really hadn’t the slightest chance, you didn’t even know where to begin. ellie thought it was so cute how obsessed you were with the person committing the murders. “you know, i used to think ghostface was hot until there was an actual fucking person playing ghostface where WE live.” you tell ellie one night. “oh my god, you watched the movies? you seriously think ghostface is hot?” ellie says as she looks up from the joint she’s smoking, pale smoke swirling and hazing in the air. “i said i used to think he was hot.”

౨ৎ ellie fooled herself that if you knew she was ghostface, you’d accept her for who she was. she just wanted to make people pay for the things they did to society. but she knew that was almost certainly not the case, no matter how bad she wanted it to be.

౨ৎ one night, before going out, ellie was snooping around your room. you were in the shower, softly humming to yourself, which ellie thought was so adorable that she was smiling to herself as she looked around your bed. she eyed a shelf filled with cubbies, all full of your folded clothes. she pulled the cubbies out until she found the one that had your underwear in it. she pulled out a pair of soft white cotton panties, with little cherries on them. she held them up to her face before shoving them in her back pocket. she continued to look around your room before picking up a small polaroid of you and dina. she kissed the polaroid of you before putting that in her pocket as well.

౨ৎ she walked over to your shared bathroom and knocked on the door. “yeah?” you half-shout, shampooing your hair as you peek around the curtain. “i’m heading out…” ellie says. “okay just, please be careful ellie!” you shout back before going back to your shower. ellie grabs her bag before walking down all 15 flights of stairs to get down to the lobby. it’s around 10:00 at night, and she’s plotted this murder for a while now. you had told her about a man who had assaulted you at a halloween party a year ago, and she wanted revenge on him.

౨ৎ she walked down the street, before slipping into an alley. she continued to walk backstreets, until she found the building where the man lived. she slipped into the apartment building, trying not to look suspicious. it was pretty late, and there was no one hanging around in the halls as everyone was on high alert of the murders. ellie slips into the man’s apartment and…well…you can guess what happens next.

౨ৎ the next morning, you wake up to ellie back home, already making you breakfast. you step out of your room, wearing cute small tight pink shorts with a lacy pink trimmed tank top. your frilly and cute socks on your feet tread lightly across the floor as you approach ellie. she loved the way you dressed. you looked like a cute innocent bunny. exactly the opposite of ellie.

౨ৎ ellie hands you a plate of toast, eggs, and bacon and you thank her before you two sit on the couch and turn on the news. you two watch the news, which had become a regular habit of yours to turn on. low and behold, the murder had obviously been reported and was being covered right now. you listen intently, hearing about how the man was found with over twenty stab wounds. “oh my god, i know him! he was a dick, though.” you say to ellie as you finish your breakfast. you take your and ellie’s plates to the sink before ellie speaks up. “hey, could you get me my phone from my room?” ellie asks, not thinking anything of this.

౨ৎ “of course.” you say as you walk over to ellie’s room, hair swinging as ellie stares at you whilst you walk into her room. you immediately see ellie’s bag on her bed. you walk over to her bed, looking for her phone as you see a knife sticking out of the pack. when you go to investigate further, you see that the knife is covered in dried blood. you open ellie’s bag to find a ghost face mask and more dried blood all over it. your mind starts racing. your roommate…? but, there’s no way. it couldn’t be her. it just couldn’t. you pick up the knife into your hand, turning it over and running your soft finger over the sharp blade. you don’t know how to feel. on one hand, you love ellie. but on the other…

౨ৎ ellie walks in. “hey, what’s taking you so…” she looks down at the bloody knife in your hands, and her eyes dash back up to your wide eyes. she’s speechless. “ellie…are you…” she quickly walks over to you. “i’m…this isn’t how i wanted you to find out, i…” she trails off, before grabbing your hand and gently but firmly pulling the knife out of your fingers. “ellie…i just…can you explain to me why?” ellie sighs and sits down on her bed before hiding her face in her hands. “i just…there’s a lot of bad people in this world bun, y’know? and so many of them deserve to be in jail but they aren’t, they…they have to be punished somehow.” she tried to explain through some slight sobs. “ellie…i..” you stutter, not sure how to respond. “i still love you, ellie.” you finally say after what felt like hours of silence. she looks up at you, eyes glassy. “are you serious?” she says, holding your forearm as your arm rests on her shoulder. “yes. yes, i am. i just, need some time to process this. but…i can look past it. i meant it when i said ghostface was hot.” you laugh, trying to relieve some of the tension.

౨ৎ the next night, ellie comes into your room. you’re sitting at in a little reading nook the was built into your apartment, with a view of the city from a window covered by a sheer white curtain. you’re sitting in the nook, curled up with a book. with she leans against the doorframe, looking at you. she smiles lightly to herself. “hey, ellie.” you say, looking up at her. though you knew she was behind the murders, you had come to terms with it. after all, she was doing it for a good cause…right?

౨ৎ she came over to you and put her hands on your shoulder. “hey bun.” she runs her hands over your arm, which makes you shiver. you shut your book before standing up to look at her. “not going out tonight?” you say as you look at her. she cups the side of your face. you look at her before deciding, fuck it. you kiss her, sloppily, which she loves. she takes your bottom lip into her teeth before biting softly on it. she pulls away, looking deep into your eyes. “are you sure you want this?” she says, still looking at you intently. “yes, ellie, just fucking kiss me…” you say as she pulls you in immediately.

౨ৎ her hands trail up behind you, rubbing your back with one hand while the other goes to cradle the back of your neck, still locking lips in a passionate kiss. she backs you onto the nook, sitting softly beside you, tracing her hand along your thigh, still locked in to the embrace. you would never admit that this was your deepest desire, kissing the person behind the ghostface mask. you were so obsessed with the case for a reason…you wanted to feel the person behind everything kiss you, feel their hands on you, making you theirs…

౨ৎ you felt ellie’s hands trace along your waist, as she slips them under your shirt to feel your soft skin on hers. “ellie..i want you so fucking bad.” you whisper into her ear as she bites and sucks on the skin around your neck. “shh…bun, i know…i know…” she says softly as she starts to take off your shirt. “this okay, pup?” she says as she reaches and tugs at the ends of your shirt. “yes.” you say softly as she swiftly pulls the shirt over your head before tossing it on the floor. she looks down at your bare skin. “no bra…?” she says, slightly surprised. “i’m at home, why would i need to wear one?” you say, rolling your eyes. ellie starts to kiss your neck as she rubs one of your sensitive and soft nipples between her fingers. you whimper softly as she pulls at the tender bud. she helps you move so you sit with your back to her chest, as she trails her hand down into your shorts. she slips them off before rubbing your cunt through your lacy cotton panties. “fuck, bun, i’ve barely touched you and you’re so fucking wet…bend over for me.” you immediately do as you’re told, bending yourself over onto the little nook, ass up in the air like a dog. you bury your face into a soft pink fluffy pillow shaped like a heart.

౨ৎ “goddamn, i wish you could see yourself right now, so fucking pretty, all ready for me.” she trails her hands down your sides before smacking your ass, leaving a burning pinkish hand print on the side of you. she palms and gropes at your thigh and ass, wanting to feel up every part of of you. “shit, baby…” she says as she unzips her pants, pulling out her strap. “shit- g’na fuck this pussy so good-” she says as she grabs a knife from her jeans, cutting off your panties before throwing them on top of her jeans. those were definitely now hers. she drags the blade across your thigh, not enough to cut, but enough to make you whimper. “i wanna fucking mark you up so bad.” she says as she drags the blade a bit deeper, letting little beads of blood pill on the knife. “ellie-!” you scream out as she drops the knife and rubs the blood around on your thigh. “fuck, baby, you’re so goddamn beautiful.” she brings her bloody hand up to her mouth before tasting your blood on her fingertips.

౨ৎ she grabs your ass before sliding herself into you. “you okay, baby?” she says as she starts to speed up her movements slightly. you barely mutter out a “yes” before she starts to speed up, thrusting into you, hitting the back of your gummy walls. you moan out ellie’s name like prayer. you hear her fucking you, the sound of your wetness and her soft grunts and moans fill the room. your mind is absolutely blank, only focusing on how good ellie is making you feel. she places a few soft kisses down your back. “you’re taking me so fucking well, fucking small pussy just begging to get fucked, huh?” ellie smiles to herself.

౨ৎ you felt her thighs brush against the back of your legs, fucking you just roughly enough to make you feel amazing. ellie’s hand shoved the back of your head into the pillow you were cradling. “i was gonna go easy on you, but since you don’t seem to be complaining…” she keeps up her movements inside you. “ah- ellie! i...im-” you moaned out, not being able to stifle your cries. you felt your neglected puffy clit cry out as ellie moved her hand to rub the sensitive bundle of nerves, kissing your back. as your milky white cum poured over her strap, she thrusted a few more times before pulling out of you. if you weren’t absolutely fucked out of your mind, you would’ve been embarrassed your roommate saw you like this, ass up in the air, cunt dripping and wet. as she helped you up onto your bed, pulling up a fresh pair of underwear on you and helping you put back on your shirt, she caressed your thigh where there was a scab forming over the small slit where she cut you.

౨ৎ “i’m sorry bun- i just, kinda got lost in the moment-” she said before you cut her off. “shut up, i fucking loved that. next time can we do it with the mask on?” you smile at her. “so i did a good job?” she says, like she wasn’t just rearranging your guts and making you scream and tear up just a few minutes ago. ellie gets up and brings you some water before you two cuddle each other.

౨ৎ “so…you wanna keep doing this then?” she says as she kisses your forehead. murderer or not, ellie was in your life no matter what.

♡ hai so basically this def didn’t turn out how i wanted oh well even tho i proofread there’s probably still mistakes sorry … i’m trying desperately to not make ellie sound like a stone cold fucking man during sex i’m really sorry bro it’s hard tbh i wanna make her dominant but also not afraid to moan and praise u when ur fucking help me 😭 i hope u all enjoy man i lowkey dipped my balls into this srsly ♡

[clubsoft]

⠀

⠀ ⠀ CHERIMOYA ⠀ ⠀ JEY USO / POC ! F ! READER ⠀⠀ ⠀

SUMMARY ⋆ jey's completely , hopelessly in love , & this is how he got there . WARNINGS ⋆ fluff , fluff , fluff / minimal character desc ; poc reader oriented / size diff if u squint / pet names overload / loverboy jey / 3rd person POV ; no use of Y/N WORD COUNT ⋆ 3 . 0 k NOTES ⋆ my first real long fic , insp'd by jey saying he wants to be in a love drama , romcom :3 enjoy !! <3

The marketplace sits at the corner of the street where the woman with the moving bookstore and the food truck man who makes the world’s most delicious waffles cross paths six days out of the week, save for Sunday, because what better reason than church to take the day off? The lovers, Jey and the soon to be girl of his dreams, learn this the hard way, standing at the corner of the sidewalk blankly in search of the street stalls, him with cash in his hand, her with a book for exchange. It’s when their eyes meet that the search ends, confusion fades, respective reasons for stepping out so trivial between their mingling gazes. Ever the flirt, never one to even stutter before a woman, Jey breaks the mutual silence first, unable to hide the awe in his tone, his words completely unrelated, but he fears if he doesn’t speak to her now, he’ll live in regret.

“No waffles for me today, I guess,” he says with a chuckle, to which her own laughter chimes in response. It silences the city around him, that heavenly sound, freezes him in time. A simper lingers on his lips, a flash of pearly whites remaining visible as she holds up her book, patting the cover with her free hand, her chin dips with a nod, though there’s a sheepishness to her movements, one he finds endearing.

“I’ll get a new book another day, I guess,” she replies, and if he wasn’t listening so closely, her voice would’ve been swallowed by the nearby traffic.

Caught up, and so awfully, embarrassingly enamored for a man of his age and experience, Jey stutters as he lifts his hand to point his thumb at the large building behind them, managing out, “Looks like t-they’re o-open. Maybe they got a b-book or two in there to hold you over ‘til the library lady gets back?”

He steps backwards towards the automatic doors, awaiting an answer that couldn’t have taken longer to arrive, though it’s mere moments between his invitation and her response. He watches her consider, her eyes flitting about below long, fluffy lashes, the curl of her fingers, with those pretty long nails, tightening around the spine of her book, all things that contrast the calm of her countenance. She’s just as nervous as he is, thank god. “Maybe they got somethin’ for you to eat so you don’t starve waitin’ for the waffle truck.” A perfect reply; it makes Jey smile so wide that every wrinkle and crinkle in his gorgeous face is present. He tips his head towards the doors, she crosses the distance to walk beside him, and together, they head in.

It’s him taking the initiative again, holding out his large hand, “I’m Jey, and you?” No hesitation this time, her much smaller hand slips into his palm, and when she utters her name, he swears it fits perfectly with his, like it’s meant to be said alongside his own, and for a man who knows jackshit and less about poetry, he finds it poetic. “Nice to meet you,” is what he settles for, grin widening when she echoes it back to him.

In the marketplace, they seem to sell everything from live aquatic animals swimming in lavish fish tanks to tiny, miniature figurines that Jey pretends to show no interest in, but hovers around for many minutes, until his companion gently asks him about them. She’s quiet in comparison to him, but he’s met enough people in his almost four decades of life to almost be sure that not a single thing goes unnoticed by those large, sparkly eyes of hers. It’s no surprise that his fascination with the colorful character display isn’t lost on her. “So, are these, like, anime? You recognize these?” It’s too late to lie and pretend he doesn’t, so he grins bashfully, shakes his head to nod, to which she responds sweetly, “Tell me about them.”

Those four words shouldn’t set off a flurry of make-believe fireworks behind her, highlighting her angelic features, making them glow even more, but they do just that. On top of that, he isn’t aware before then that all it takes to bring down his guard is a show of genuine attentiveness, but as he begins to point out every little character he’s familiar with, the connections between those from the same series, his opinions of them, and anything else that comes to mind, he realizes it isn’t a show at all. Her gaze follows his fingertips as they point from one character to the next, and she’s nodding to keep from interrupting him, humming when he pauses between words to show she’s listening. Jey feels his cheeks warm, and he trails off, “Yeah, that’s it. That’s about all I know.”

“What? Jey, that’s so cool! I’m not much of a gamer but that explanation made me wanna change that!” She exclaims, clapping her hands together quietly, beaming. Then, she quickly cuts her excitement short, offering a shy smile as she lowers her hands, smoothing them against her top, as though her enthusiasm would turn him away, a fear he’s quick to remedy with his words.

“If you don’t get tired a’me, I can teach you.” Her features soften further, and she nods appreciatively, holding his gaze a heartbeat longer. The less outwardly flirty of the two by a longshot, she’s the one to break eye contact, returning the attention back to the subject at hand, picking up a medium sized figurine of a bear that Jey recognizes as ‘Kuma’ from Tekken, holding it up like it was a trophy.

“This one’s your favorite? He’s so cute!”

A short while of wandering lands them in the opposite corner of the market, a completely different world, rows and rows of fruits and vegetables, a sticky sweet scent in the air. Jey follows a step and a half behind, and tries his utmost hardest not to be a typical man, though his self control slips from his grasp as his eyes trace the shape of her hips, the sliver of flesh between the waistband of her jeans and the hem of her shirt, swallowing hard while watching one tan finger hook into the belt loop at her side to adjust said waistband. For a moment, he swears he hears twinkling, angels singing, sees doves flying in, but it’s just the noise of her charm bracelet mixed with illusory manifestations of his attraction. One large hand rubs over his face as he sighs, and she turns to him at the perfect time, a smile so beautiful on her glossy, full lips that he’s almost jealous of what brought it on. “Jey, look! Cherimoyas!”

“Cherry-mow-yuz?” He repeats slowly, pronunciation pulling a giggle from the girl before him, his brows furrowed in confusion until his gaze travels the span of her arm to the glittery long nail pointing towards a box of green fruits. He knows they’re fruits only because the sign says so, despite being entirely unfamiliar, he’s excited just because she is.

“Cherimoyas,” she corrects him, and then continues. “These are so good, they taste like dessert, and I can never find ‘em anywhere. I could eat a truck full of these things!”

“Never had ‘em… Should we get some?” The question is rhetorical on his end, because she’s grabbing a bag, nodding enthusiastically, reaching for the box like Jey was already doing. It’s something out of a movie, his hand brushing hers, the second too long that it takes for them to withdraw, the sparks that make his skin buzz where it's made contact with hers. They almost do it again, stop to let the other through, and by the third time, she’s laughing, simply holding open the bag so he can fill it cherimoyas, going until she says stop.

The sun is beginning to set by the time they come to rest on a park bench, having traveled outside the market, talking and talking, and talking some more. Now, Jey’s using his car keys to split open the apple shaped fruit, puncturing a hole big enough in the shell to split it in half with his hands a moment later. Impressed and excited beyond words, the girl to his right oohs and aahs like he’d done a magic trick. It’s adorable, and his cheeks feel hot as he passes her the larger half, which she instantly switches out with his. “Cheers, to the book lady and waffle man, and cherimoyas.”

“And cherry-mow-yuz,” Jey repeats, the two bursting into laughter, struggling to dig in until their giggles fade, but when he sinks his teeth into the fruit, he moans in delight, eyes shutting, head tipping back with a sigh. “Yeah… good as fuck. Tastes like custard,” he says, filling his mouth with another bite.

She answers with a hum, nodding, eyes crinkled with a smile. “I told you we’d keep you from starving.”

“Wait, we didn’t get you a new book,” Jey says, frowning, taking time away from his cherimoya lovemaking to look at her, his big brown eyes set steadily on her. Yet, he’s just a man, and he finds himself staring at her lips, the way they kiss at the edge of the peel before she uses her teeth, dragging the sweet bits into her mouth. He’s a gentleman, so he believes, and scaring her off wouldn’t be so gentlemanly of him. All he can do is allow himself to feel jealous of the fruit, and look away.

“I have a new story to tell, and I made a new friend. That’s way better than a new book.”

If Jey could, he’d magically materialize in front of this past self— the pair of them, actually— and laugh in their faces. Friends, yeah, right! Years have passed since their first meeting, their lives intertwined to the point where it’s impossible to tell where she ends and where Jey begins, not far from their current physical situation, limbs knotted together, his heavy arm holding her down as she tries to lunge at his twin, whose thunderous laugh echoes through their house like a lion’s roar. Jey’s attempts to stay on her good side result in him laughing silently only when she looks away from him, a deep breath drawn into his lungs to keep his voice from shaking before he calls out to his brother, “Jimmy, stop playin’ with her, man!”

“Don’t make me call Naomi!” Her voice co-signs, much more passionate than her lover’s. Jimmy takes no account of the threat, turning up the volume on the TV, the entire reason for the fight in the first place.

He’d visited to spend time with his brother, as he does every week or so, arriving with two boxes of pizza alongside an array of snacks. Nothing wrong with that, all is well. Jey has his own space, with his TV, consoles and other toys, and that’s usually where the twins hang out. This time, Jey insisted on his girl joining, and taking the party to the main living room, where she’s on her third rewatch of some romance series he can never remember the name of despite being completely absorbed in it. After saying hello and giving hugs, Jimmy, ever the joker, took the remote and switched on the game. He does things like this on purpose, he always does, living off the banter it creates between him and his brother’s girlfriend. Everyone else in their family has been around his antics long enough, but she’s a rookie to it, and it takes almost nothing to rile her up. In retaliation, she‘d taken the remote back and switched it back, that’s when the tug of war with the remote started, reaching a point where a throw pillow had earned its name, flung across the space, knocking Jimmy square in the head. That leads them to the present, where Jey is still holding her still, and Jimmy’s nodding along to the game’s commentary like it’s a hymn that touches his soul.

“You think you can just come into my house, turn off my show—”

“It’s my brother’s house, and I don’t see ya name in the credits of the damn show, so—”

“Baby!” Her whine tugs at Jey’s heart, making quick work of his neutral stand and pulling him onto her side. A hum of understanding, a few soft pecks to her jaw and cheek, he sighs, and sits up, gesturing to the remote.

“Jim, gimme the damn remote.”

Jimmy, incredulous, hugs the rectangular device to his chest, imitating her whining, “Noooo.”

Jey doesn’t get a second to process when another pillow is launched into space; it hits Jimmy in his nose, and he groans. Then, without warning, he opens his big mouth and cries out, “I don’t even know why my brother wants to marry your evil ass. With an aim like that, I’d stay as far away from you as I could!” His words are like a gunshot, the shock on the couple’s faces the smoking gun. Realizing he’d fucked up, Jimmy holds up his hands, and then turns the blame onto his twin, who’s laying back with his hands over his face. “I thought you already asked her, dude!”

“I was workin’ on it!” Jey retorts, sitting up abruptly. Between them, his sweet babygirl is frozen in shock, and he ignores anything else Jimmy could say to defend himself, tenderly cupping her cheek with his palm, lowering himself until he’s eye to eye with her.

“Is he serious?” Is her first question, to which he nods, grimacing.

“I wanted it to be a lot more romantic…” He can see the gears shifting in that little mind of hers, piecing together the full picture with a gasp.

“The date! That’s why you gave me money to get my nails and feet done.” Pressing kisses to her knuckles, Jey smiles.

“Baby, I always give you money to get your stuff done.”

“Except it’s different this time,” spoken like the idea hasn’t quite wrapped around her brain yet. Another nod. She has a knack for making him wait, he realizes, it’s deja vu to the time they first met, Jey lingering in hopes of receiving an answer that’ll set their future on track.

“You always this slow?” Jimmy’s voice interrupts their sugary moment, cutting through it like a knife stabbing into tough plastic, sharp and unsatisfying.

“You still here?” His twin snaps back in an identical tone, no pun intended— the twins are fraternal. “Get outta my fuckin’ house! Baby, gimme one of those pillows.”

“I’m goin’! I’m goin’!” A shuffle of footsteps, and the two are left alone. Jey’s doe brown eyes soften, stuck solid on his girl, who sits before him with her chest puffed out and a hollow gaze.

“Honey?” Large hands squeeze around her smaller ones, thumbs rubbing over her knuckles. “You want some more time?” Jey murmurs, lips against her wrist, kissing it after. “Shit was outta nowhere, I don’t blame—”

“Oh my god, I thought you’d never ask! I was just imagining how we’d do it. I wanna do it in your mom’s backyard, actually, with Roman on the grill and lots and lots of flowers! Lotsa flowers—” As the angel rambles on, eyes having stolen constellations from the sky, the man before her listens with a gaze amorous enough to make poets buzz with joy at the sight of such muse, such inspiration, such true love. Interrupting her is subconscious, lips closing over her soft, glossy ones, his frame shifting off his knees to trap her against the cushions of the couch.

“I can make that happen, mama… We can do whatever you want…” He’s almost whispering, drawing shapes against her nose with the tip of his own, chasing kisses till it’s impossible for her to speak, and she has to smush her hand over his mouth, pushing him back gently.

“But I don’t want the ring yet! I bought a really nice dress and I need to get my nails done, and…”

The day can’t come fast enough. Jey’s mom’s backyard is the venue, one that costs little to no money to decorate. His mom is elated to be the host; she prepares a speech and cries so hard near the end that her words are incoherent. Solo, of all people, ends up on stage to finish it for her. He gets a little choked up himself, and that sends the entire family into laughter. Jey leads all the slow dances, gets drunk, then sits and explains how he learned them. His stories draw a crowd, teasing him so intensely that he fights them off, and buries his face in his wife’s— yes, wife— neck. The dramatics last a mere twenty minutes before the entire family is back on the dance floor, each drink helping fade the night to black.

Morning afters are meaningful, no matter how enamored the lovers are, for they mark the blessing of another day started with one’s soulmate. Jey recalls their very first one in a dreamlike trance, while watching his wife’s chest rise and fall as she sleeps soundly after their eventful honeymoon night. Jey woke up first that time, too. Limbs tangled together, breaths mingled, the scene identical to the one in his bed years ago, their love new at the time, nerve wracking but steady, the butterflies flitting about in the unfamiliar environment having settled by now, though the fluttering never ceases. He hopes it never does.

“Honey?” Beside him, his cherubic wife rasps softly in her morning voice, removing him from his thoughts. Her naked form shifts, curls and molds against his as though she’s trying to become one with him, and as he hums to respond, she nuzzles her nose into his collar and drifts off again. A wide smile dimples his cheeks, arms holding her tightly against him, and he looks up at the roof as though it was the sky, as though the divine herself was looking back at him in that moment, listening to him pray his thanks for the next step of their life, and the start of another day with his beloved.

⠀⠀ ⠀

⠀⠀ ⠀ © 𝓒LUBSOFT

[doodledrawsthings]

you. Oh my god, you. (Positive)

listen. Before I had internet access, all I had was 1 hour of allotted browser time, bing image search, and a single dantdm play through of a hat in time that never got finished. I googled fanart and got pretty much nothing, I googled fancomics and got pretty much nothing, but you know what I did end up finding?

your art.

from ages 11-14, my goal in life, in art, was your art. I can’t tell you how much I loved finding random screenshots of your posts, because I was always just so impressed by how clean and consistent your sketches are, how the characters always stay on model, the shape language, how you could somehow sketch a character in like 20 lines when it took me 50 to draw sans in my little spiral notebook— like! Holy shit! For years I have looked up to your art! There’s still a photos folder on my dads old huge-ass 12 inch work iPad labeled “holy crap” and filled with your art. Because it inspired me so much. It’s become an undeniable part of my artstyle, now — I still have fanart I drew way back in the day of Hattie and the rest, I didn’t even know anyone’s names because I couldn’t play the game, but you’re the reason I eventually did play the game. Your coffee shop au and different versions of the prince— one of those ieterations inspired the main character of my novel! Well, novel that I tried to write, I was 13 so it was eh, but I tried!!

I’m submitting this on-anon because I don’t want to out my age on the wide internet (I like my privacy) but. Your art has really meant a lot to me. It’s the reason I played hollow knight, and it’s the reason I kept trying to develop an art style I was happy with. You’re the reason I started scribbling comics in my notebooks. Being 13-14 was pretty much the worst two years of my life, but I had Bing image search and the occasional glimpse of your signature, and I’d be so happy every time I found a new (if crusty) three-times screenshotted jpg. You literally introduced me to the concept of polyamory and nonbinary-ness with the coffee shop au. I had no other access to that in my household, and. Yeah. It meant a lot to me.

Anyway. I’m so glad I’ve finally tracked you down (in the most non-ominous way possible) and I’m so glad you’re still active— Please never stop making art. Your art is incredible, and amazing, and also you never know who’s out there on Bing image search. Thank you for creating for as long as you have. You’re pretty much the reason I’m shooting for an art degree (Wish me luck!) so just…Thank you.

(Also I had no idea you were a professional storyboarder, which is insane because that’s what I want to be when I’m through college. Hey, maybe I’ll end up storyboarding a remake of something you’ve storyboarded! hehehe)

Hi anon!

So right off the bat, I gotta tell you that this message made me start bawling when I woke up and saw it. Like I had a full-on cry session while reading your message and lying in bed for almost an hour. I am crying as I am typing this response, on my phone, still in bed. It’s 11am and i woke up at 9. So I hope it turns out coherent.

The last two years have been. weird. I say that a lot because I wanna say “rough” but that still doesn’t feel quite right. I’m almost hyper-aware that there are so many people that have it worse than me rn, so it feels hard to even acknowledge when I’m going through anything, myself, sometimes- REGARDLESS, it’s been kind of an all-time low for my mental health. There was a point within in the last year where I just HATED drawing. I struggled to bring myself to work, I struggled to bring myself to even draw for fun. It felt like I was posting just to post, trying to keep people aware of my existence and it almost felt physically painful to force myself to sit down and do it, sometimes.

I’m getting better now, I think, but. Yknow.

It’s so easy to get caught up in the “oh I can make money off this,” “oh I can get attention off this,” “oh I can prove myself a functional person in society with this,” of it all. I forget why I actually do this, sometimes, or if I even enjoy it. And then I get messages like yours, about the kid with limited internet access looking for A Hat in Time fan art on Bing image search, and I get taken back to when I was a kid scrolling Google images and deviantart for the same thing.

I don’t mean to like. Foster some kind of parasocial thing with you or any one of my followers. There’s a reason I’m saying all this, I hope it ties up in the end.

We don’t know each other. I’m not some mysterious legendary artist, or whatever. I’m a person who gets burnt out, and jealous, and insecure. I need inspiration to function, just like you, and when I don’t have it, I get art block. But I also really like to draw fictional characters kissing and hanging out. I like coming up with comics and stories and playing out dramatic and funny scenarios in my head like I’m mashing Barbies together. And when other people tell me they enjoy the stuff I put out when I do this, it makes me really, really, really happy.

I think I needed to read your message, probably. With the state of… Everything… Right now, especially recently, I feel like a lot of artists are also struggling with a sense of purpose, pride, and reason as the world makes it harder and harder to even BE an artist, these days. And when I read this message it was like Anton Ego at the end of Ratatouille, I got taken back to when I was a kid looking at my favorite artists and studying their style and striving to be better and better at it over years of my life. Not just because I wanted a job for it or cuz I wanted to be a famous Disney animator or whatever, but because it was fun and I just liked doing it.

Thank you, SO much. I say this in the most genuine and earnest way I possibly can possibly express. I wish you luck on your own path in art and art school. And if you decide that animation industry is your thing, then I wish you the best in that endeavor, as well. I think I will keep making art for a long time.

Peace and love on the planet earth ✌️✌️✌️

[sweet-as-an-angel]

Miguel’s Reaction to You Calling Him a DILF

Warnings: Implied Smut, Dominant Miguel, Profanity, Use of ‘Daddy’, Lyla Trying Her Best <3, Fem Reader.

Despite spending every day with Lyla, an absolutely chronically online AI, Miguel knows little in the way of internet jargon.

Thus, this term - DILF - is one he’s never come across before. Namely because Lyla has never seen it fit to implement it into a conversation.

But, when Miguel overheard you calling him your “Favourite DILF; just a gorgeous, scrumptious specimen,” he had to ask Lyla to translate for him.

Miguel swore he could see her eyes widen, her brow stiffen and crease.

“It’s…it’s — uh — well…”

Lyla scratched the back of her head, her stare sloping off to the side — away from Miguel’s cattish stare. Her teeth gritted, a gateway, a preventative measure to ensure your safety and wellbeing. The only barrier between your open secret and miguel’s discovery of it.

“Oh, come on, Lyla,” Miguel crossed his arms over his chest, as if to inhibit the anxiety starting to bloom there. He doubted that you’d ever bad-mouth him, especially given how close the two of you were, but Lyla’s apprehension was starting to spark some doubts. Regardless, he persevered, kept his stare hard and neutral. “It can’t be that bad.”

“It..it means…” Lyla sighed, pinched the bridge of her nose beneath her glasses. She didn’t look up at Miguel, instead finding you in her mind’s eye and cursing you. And wishing the best for your safety.

“Dad I’d like to fuck.”

She came out with it, the words almost poisonous and sour on her tongue as they passed through. And the fact that she’d had to say them to Miguel of all people didn’t help.

At first, Miguel didn’t think he’d heard Lyla correctly, his posture and face remaining unchanged in the fallout of his discovery.

It was only after three seconds passed, four, five, that he truly heard — understood — what Lyla had said.

“Oh.”

A warmth bled across Miguel’s face, a creeping blush hidden only by the console’s yellow hue. Without another word, Mifuel turned tail, unfurling his arms, unravelling to his broadest potential. He began his descent, his destination clear as day in his mind’s eye.

Lyla’s’s eyes widened further, almost bulging from her head. She called, stammering: “(Y-Y/N) probably didn’t mean it! Not like that! So-so don’t go too hard on ‘er, okay?”

Miguel searched the entire facility for you, his face a concoction of emotions nobody (save for yourself) had ever seen before, thus making his mood indecipherable to all that were not you.

He eventually found you, isolated, in a room. Practically begging for what was to come next. He slipped inside, closed the door behind him.

You turned and smiled, sensing Miguel’s presence; the impression of authority.

“Hey, Miggy!” you chimed, eyes crescents. You turned back to checking off your stock list, paying little heed to the shadow advancing on you.

“Playing innocent, I see,” Miguel’s voice swooped and glided as the greatest bird of prey does, coming to stand mere centimetres behind you, his warmth at your back; a dark sun.

“I thought you’d be at home, caring for our child.” His hands came to sit on your shoulders, heavy and large. For a second, you were befuddled, believing Miguel to be spinning you a riddle. Then, realisation. Your heart dropped; you knew Miguel could feel it. Oh my God, Lyla.

“We…don’t have a child, Miguel,” you laughed, humourless and breathy. You knew you had to play your cards right. Carefully. Miguel gave a heavy, brief chuckle.

“Not yet,” he squeezed your shoulders, hands slipping down the length of your arms, the feeling of spiders creeping along your skin. “But seeing as you’re so keen on calling me daddy, I see no harm in pretending.”

His lips came to your neck, pressing deceptively soft kisses there. 

You were frozen, though a fire stoked within you. One you couldn’t bring yourself to put out.

“After all, I am your DILF, aren’t I?”

You bit your lip, eyes squeezing shut as Miguel’s hands slid to your waist, pulling your back to his front where you felt something thick and large and bulging against your tailbone.

“A baseless accusation, don’t you think ?”

Your breath shuttered. “I didn’t mean it as a bad thing—“

“It doesn’t matter how you meant it. What matters is it’s inaccurate,” Miguel spoke with a stoic logic you’d seen one too many times. He pulled you to him, tighter, closer, his heart pounding against your back.

“But, luckily for you, I’m in a giving mood. I’m not going to punish you for your little transgression. Instead, I’m going to give you an out.” He descended upon your skin again, nipping it between his blunted teeth, the threat of his fangs in your periphery.

“What…what’s that?” You almost didn’t want to ask, your heart creeping up your throat as if to muffle your words.

Miguel’s hand slipped from your waist, sliding sharp fingers down the expanse of your back, leaving trails of goosebumps. You felt his hand come between where the most prominent part of himself and you connected, his knuckles digging into the small of your back. He ran a hand over himself through his suit, palmed himself. His eye twitched. “You just have to be a good girl and lay down and take whatever I give you until I say we’re done.”

His grip on you tightened. You could feel how dark his gaze had become, weighing heavy on you like a robe.

You said nothing – could say nothing.

“Now, you wanna say that again,” his voice was muffled by your skin, his kisses becoming wetter, languid. He pushed himself against you, taking you by the hips and pulling you so he caught you just right. You spied his eye twitch in the reflection of the filing cabinet across from you as you cracked an eye open, a steady redness overtaking Miguel’s stare, his lips turning up at the corners, revealing his fangs.

“Or are you gonna keep that pretty little mouth shut and make me into a real daddy ?”

Reblog for more content like this! It helps creators like myself tremendously and it is greatly appreciated :-)

Masterlist Masterpost

Yandere Masterlist Juicy Original Content <3

[grugruel]

Wicked Game

Pairings: cop!bucky x f!reader

MDNI/NSFW

Masterlist

Summary: An out of control college party gets crashed by cops, someone tattled, and a cop chase ensues.

The chief is an old friend of your family, who you'd always had a crush on.

Thinking he's harmless, you talk back. But he can only hold back for so long.

Word Count: 4.5k

Warnings: reader is 20, pinv sex, rough sex, oral sex (m and f recieving), choking, uniform kink, sir kink, reader being bratty, bucky doing something about it!! edging, orgasm denial, overstimulation, handjob, fingering, pet names (girl, doll), praise (yay), mentions of masturbation, slight marking, degrading ish? cum eating, creampie, power dynamic, some soft!bucky at the end.

AN: This is not a Lee bodecker fic! This is just regular, muscly cop!bucky.

Blaring music and thumping bass fill an already crowded house, drunk daredevils otherwise inhabiting it.

God, my skull feels like it's about the cave in. The average college experience in other words.

I'd been drinking the least out of my friends, yet I felt the worst. They sat on the couch around me, trying the wide assortment of drugs that were splayed out in front of us. Littering the table along with various hard liqour bottles, all mostly empty.

Drugs arent my forte, but I wont nark them.

The party had only been going for an hour or so, I think? My lockscreen told me it was 2 in the night, holy shit? It had been 5 hours.

How the hell had no one called the cops yet? Little did I know, how badly I jinxed myself.

'Guys, Guys.' I lazily shrugged the shoulders of two of my friends sitting on each side of me, 'We- we, gotta go.'

'We're fine!' One of them drawled, splaying out on the couch.

I shook my head, head thumping in each bend, 'Theres literally. . .' I paused, searching tiredly for the right words, 'Uhm- No way! That the cops arent on their way here like, right now.'

'We've lasted this long.' The other said, shrugging his shoulders, grinning.

I groaned, 'Fine!' And threw my hands up in defeat, my friend observed me smugly. He held up some coke for me, raising his brows in question. To which I shook my head again.

A sharp alarm cut through the music, everyone groaned, heads complaining at the sound. I figured it was something with the sound system, but no.

I just had to jinx myself, remember?

As my ears adjusted to the sound, I realised. It's sirens, two or three. Cops.

'It's the fucking cops!' I shouted, alerting everyone. The music cut off, and the sirens clarified into the deafening sound of jail, or curfew. Depending on the cop. I was hoping and dreading the Chief in equal amounts, he could take it easy on me, or not.

I roused my friends, dragging them up from the couch and filtering them through the backdoor. Along with at least a hundred other people our age.

My attempts at freeing them had made me lag behind, one of my friends grabbed my arm, 'Come on!' She shouts, trying to pull me with them. But theres to many people between us and she loses her grip, swept away by the crowd.

The front door swings open behind me, and I freeze. Slowly turning around, I see a tall, broad shouldered figure standing silently observing the chaos from the doorway. He stepped inside, searching the crowd, and eventually. His eyes land on me.

'Give em' hell. Get the ones you can!' He barks the orders at his men, and then his eyes narrow in on me. Staring me down, 'And leave this one to me.' His words make my skin crawl, in fear of my parents finding out and possibly, excitement?

I wouldn't say no to punishment dealt by Chief Barnes.

His men rush past me out the backdoor, leading me to back up slowly. Placing the Coffee table between me and the Chief, securing myself somewhat.

Slowly, he stalks forward. A slanted smile growing with every step that he takes, making chills run up my spine. His uniform does him good I notice, shirt and pants sitting around his muscles perfectly. Belt and gun? Hot.

'Heeey, Buck.' I smile cheapishly, 'Fancy meeting you here.' Testing the waters, seeing what chances my charms have of easing the situation for myself.

He nods, raising his eyebrows in response and grins in spite, as if answering, "I'm sure it is" and "You're in deep fuckin shit now."

I laugh nervously and try again, 'I didn't know you enjoy college parties Buck? Or just, college girls?'

Amused, he steps closer, It's now only the table separating us. I step up on the couch behind me, desperately trying to make up for the space I'm losing. He puts his hands around his belt buckle, smirking. At least my incredibly funny self seems to have softened him.

He looks down, studying its content, then looks back up at me. His face turns displeased, undoing all my previous hard work to humour him.

I follow his gaze, looking at the table myself, and it dawns on me, 'No no no no!' I throw out in panic, 'Listen, Buck. . .'

'What could you possibly have to say-' he began and lowered his head, giving me a serious look, 'To get yourself out of this one?' referring to the table.

'I can think of a few things, I might have an ace in my sleeve.' I smirk. Metaphoricly speaking of course, my blouse does not have long sleeves.

He takes a firm step closer, a bemused look on his face, 'Ok Ok! It's not mine! It's not, mine.' I gesture to myself, then to the table in erratic motions. 'I'm an innocent bystander, I just sat on the couch. Never even touched the stuff.' I hold my hands up, palms out. As if it would stop him.

'Theres nothing innocent about you girl.' He tells me sternly, the corner of his lip tugging.

Stunned, there's a sudden flutter in my stumache.

Suddenly, the energy between us change. The tension grows and the look in his eyes turn hungry, like a hunter watching its prey.

'Pinky promise?' I ask, shrugging cheapishly.

He takes a few quick steps toward me, rounding the table. But I run to the end of the couch, making sure that the table is still between us. Butterflies surge through my body, giddy from excitement. This is the most fun I'd had all night. 'Buck, let's- lets be civil about this, alright? Let's just talk.' I giggle.

He chuckles, 'Oh, you think this is funny?'

Nodding, 'Kind of, yes. . .' I tease.

'We're far past talking.' He breathes, 'Had I been anyone else, had I not known your parents, you would've been in cuffs by now.'

My eyes turn mischievous, 'Whats stopping you?' I tilt my head, 'I assure you, I wouldn't mind.' And grin.

He chews the inside of his cheek, then charges, and I run, swivelling to avoid solo cups and various balloons on the floor. I hear his footsteps behind me, catching up. My agility is nothing compared to his raw muscle and speed, but I swerve into the kitchen, adrenaline kicking in. And manage to take cover behind the kitchen island.

Bucky grinds to a halt, slamming his palms into the counter, catching himself against it. Once again, im in safety. For a while at least.

'Youre gonna have to be faster than that.' I pant, grinning. He meets my eyes, pure animalistic tendencies behind them. The look on his face has me biting my lip, I couldn't wait for him to catch me. 'C'mon Chief.' I purr.

And somethings in his eyes ignite at the word, oh?

'Chief?' I test and he grunts, eyes glaring at me through his eyebrows. Naturally, I delve deeper, 'You feeling quite alright. . . Sir?'

He tilts his head with a jerk, then laughs 'You've done it now.' Those are warning words. Then he jumps, sliding over the counter.

'Holy shit!' I squeek as I take of running, narrowly avoiding his grasp. I run through the house with Bucky right on my heels, nothing but the the thrill of the chase keeping me going.

I run out by the backdoor, then stupidly enough, take a right. Into a garden, a fenced in garden. The high type of fence too. I regret my decision the second I see notice it, but its to late. Buckys steps slow behind me, and I slow to a stop myself as I come face to face with a dead-end. 'Oh, fuck me.' I breathe, absolutely exhausted.

'Famous last words, doll.' He cuckles between pants.

I turn around and smile through the pain, 'Ha ha! Funny guy. What. A funny. Guy.' I clench my teeth, sighing.

My eyes lock onto his frame, hands on his hips as he's catching his breath. Mesmerized I stare, men in uniform, huh? Im starting to see the appeal.

Slowly, he begins walking toward me, prowling like a tiger. He grabs hold of his belt, pulling it upward to adjust his pants.

God damn.

My uterus is aching, my entire body is aching. I would've drooled if I hadnt come to my senses, escaping. Right.

I make a break for it. In one quick motion, I turn around and jump. Grabbing hold of the upper ledge of the fence and pull myself up, my feet scrambling against the wood to find some sort of purchase. But im too slow, too focused. I didn't even hear him come up behind me, but I did feel his big hands on my waist.

He yanks me down and pushes me toward the fence, his body flush against my back. I gasp and he digs his fingertips into my waist, making sure I don't escape again. His touch makes me yearn for more, I want it deeper.

He levels his head with mine, leaning in close to my ear. Close enough to feel his hot breathing against the skin on my neck, 'I got you now.' He whispers, making my skin prickle with goosebumps and setting of a pulse deep below my stumache. But I wasn't willing to give up just yet. With my hands free, I pry his own from my waist and turn around, pushing him back by the chest.

Now. . . The intention was to push him hard enough to give me space to run past, but. . .

He barely budged, he grabbed my wrists and pushed me back against the fence, pinning my body between the wood and himself. Wrists in hand, he anchored my arms to my sides by grabbing onto the fabric of my skirt. Rouching it, he helt the flesh of my ass under his fingers.

I laugh nervously, 'You're not gonna tell mom and dad are you?'

He just chuckles, fuck im truly, in deep shit.

I try wriggling free from his grip, but he holds my wrists tighter, carefully slamming them into the fence above my head and leans against me. Leaving zero space for me to move, every curve of our bodies complete the others, I swear I can feel his bulge against my hip. He moves his face closer to mine, needing me to crane my neck upward to meet his eyes. When I do, a self-satisfied smile covers his lips. His face inches from my own, we were basically sharing one breath as his lips barely brush over mine. 'You gonna be a good girl for me and behave?' He asks, breathing heavily.

I whine, he can't possibly turn me on more. 'Depends.' I say.

''Yeah?' He practically whimpers.

I close the distance between our lips, but he pulls back and smiles, teasing me. I meet his eyes and we look at eachother intently, as if entranced, I cant break contact.

He lets go of my wrists and traces his hands down my arms, all the way down to my hands. Chills run amock over my body, I close my eyes and lean in again, but suddenly-

I hear a clasp, then another and I can just feel him smirk against me. My eyes go wide and I realise, 'You didn't.' glaring at him.

'I did.' He laughs, 'What made you think you were in a position to negotiate?'

I look down and sure enough, cuffs bind my wrists together. Shocked, my mouth falls open. I didnt even feel him reach for them.

He backs up and grabs my arm, pulling me with him. 'Could you at least let me off around the corner from our house?' I ask as we make our way toward his car, he glaces down at me but doesnt answer, 'So they dont see me get dropped off in a cruiser, you know?' He opens the front door for me, and helps me inside, 'And maybe avoid talking to them for a few weeks, you'd really be doing me a favor, Buck.' And without a word, he closes the door and walks around to his side. Getting in and driving off.

The first portion of the ride is silent, he'd done what he had to, to catch me. Damn.

Luckily for me though, the party was a long way from home. Meaning I have some time to devise a plan.

I look at my cuffs, carefully observing them. Hmm. . . I yank my hands apart, trying the strength of the schackles, hoping the sound would gather his attention.

This was a game of chance, a game of seduction and persuasion.

Gently, I tickle the skin on my upper knee, 'I really didnt do any drugs y'know.' tracing back and forth with my fingertips, acting somber. Then lay my hand flat against my thigh, squeezing it absentmindedly. Continuing with rubbing small, firm circles with my index finger into my skin and turn to look out of the window.

Bucky clears his throat. The reaction I was looking for, perfect.

I spread my legs slightly, letting my hands slide down either side of my thigh. Clasping them together underneath and slide them up along my thigh. The skirt catching on my cuffs, revealing more and more of my-

-his hand flies to my thigh, hooking the cuff over his thumb and squeezing my flesh. Keeping me from showing anything more. Fuck, my core is throbbing from that alone.

'Buck?' I ask innocently.

'Dont' he croaks, voice sounding pained.

'Sorry-' I pause, glancing at him carefully. His eyes are fixed sternly on the road, 'We could talk about this like adults you know, make a deal.' He squeezes my thigh harder, I lift one hand with the restricted movements of my cuffs and caress his fingertips, 'A real good deal, benefitial for the both of us' I suggest.

'You talk too much for your own good, girl.'

'I'm not quite sure what you mean, Sir?. .' I bite my lip as he looks over at me, meeting my eyes through my lashes. 'You wouldn't tell on me to my parents, would you?' I ask, giving him my best puppy eyes.

He looks away, sitting silently until the next exit comes up. He flashes his indicators and turn off the main road, parking in an empty clearing.

'You want a deal, doll?' He asks, looking straight ahead. Sliding the cuffs off his thumb as his hand travel downward, fingertips sliding under my skirt, knuckles brushing over my clothed clit. Lust flashes through my nerves, and I gasp.

'A deal, or you. Both sound good to me.' I whisper, on the edge of my seat. Eagerly awaiting his answer, waiting for him.

He looks back at me, meeting my eyes with a fiendish grin, 'Then put that big mouth of yours to use.' He orders.

Nodding enthusatically, I lean over. Unbuckling his belt and zip down his pants, I reach into his boxers and fuuuuck, my hands barely fit around him. I pull him out and pull my hands to my mouth, wetting my fingers before returning them. One hand carefully stroking small circles around his tip, while the other strokes him up and down in cylindrical motions along his shaft.

The chief of police bites his lip, muffling a whimper as I move faster, 'Uhh- mmm. .' He hums, 'Yes- yes, doll. Fuck. .' He stutters.

Such a strong man crumbling under the touch of a woman, it was turning me on like nothing ever has, the power I hold is surprising.

His fingers move under my panties and slide along my slit, making it my turn to moan. I Buck my hips to give him better access, and he dips his fingers inside me. Pumping them slowly as he's getting them wet, then slides up to my clit, circling around it. 'Holy-' I gasp, 'Shit.'

We buck our hips to the others touch, leaning against the other, shoulder to shoulder, temple to temple. Moaning breathely. Our lips finally meeting in a needy kiss, tounges moving with the rhythm of our bodies. 'Please, doll. Be a good girl.' He begs between our lips.

Fuck me, that heartbeat in my utherus spread in pulses through out my entire body.

I grin and pull back. Leaning over, I carefully lick the leaking cum off his tip clean, then take him in my mouth. I swirl my tongue around his head, licking greedily. Tasting the salt of him. I push deeper, sucking his length into my mouth. The sloppy sounds of saliva and lips were vulgar inte the most intoxicating way. His hand continues massaging my clit while the other snakes into my hair, grabbing a fistful and aiding my movements. Helping me set merciless pace.

Bucky groans, our strokes growing in greed as we close in on our releases. He shoves two big fingers into my core, curling at just the right spot. Pleasure surge through me, leaving me to stuff my throat with his member, muffling a scream as I topple over the edge. I feel him come right after, my mouth filling with his seed and hearing his moan of completion. The bitterness of salt waa overwhelming to my tastebuds, I swallow what I can and pull myself off.

Leaving a sloppy mess around my mouth, I sit back and smile. Breathing heavily as I regain my strength, Bucky looks at me and laughs, 'You got something right here.' gesturing circles around his mouth, reffering to mine. I wide my mouth clean with my thumb and suck it off, Bucky smiles proudly at the sight. Then brings his own fingers to his mouth, sucking my juices off of them.

Heat ignites within me once again.

Bucky cups my face with one hand and pulls me into a kiss. The tastes of eachother mixing, I can't quite tell what is what. But it's wonderful. Bucky pulls free and looks at me, I give him a hazy, expectant look. He strokes my cheek with his thumb and slides out of the car, walking around to my side. I furrow my eyebrows as he helps me out of the passenger seat. He pulls me to the hood of the car, pushing himself against me until the back of my legs hit the grill. He leans in and whispers against my ear, 'Still need to punish ya.' He drawls, a shiver running through my spine.

'Im begging you Chief.' I look at him thtough hooded, lustfilled eyes, 'Please punish me.' I groan, smiling.

His dick twitched at the word, making him close his eyes to keep his composure. Then suddenly bends down and finds purchase under my knees. In one swift motion, he pulls, and I fall back onto the hood, 'Wanting it defeats the purpose, doll.' He growls, then opens his eyes. But the sight before him makes him unravel.

Upperbody bent to the side in an effort to prop myself up on my forearms, thanks to my cuffs. Skirt over my hips and legs spread, core exposed and ready for him.

'Do you worst, please. Sir. . .' I whisper and grin.

His eyes snap to mine, and that "You're in for it now.' Expression returns, 'Fuckin brat.' He spits.

Then, he kneels. He fuckin kneels. A shiver runs up my spine a the sight, 'Some punishment, huh?' I ask, but he only smirks. Hooking my legs over his shoulders, and grabbing each thigh to keep them spread, then, without warning, he dives in.

I bite my cheek to stop myself from screaming, pulses of pleasure run through me like electric currents. He pushes his tongue inside me, feverishly licking at my juices, exploring my walls, burrying his face in my cunt. Nose pushing up against my clit, making my back arch deliciously. 'That all you can do?' I tease, grinding my hips against his nose, desperate to get some friction. But his eyes meet mine, glaring as he moves his hands to my hips, holding me steady.

He pulls back for a second, just to spit on my cunt, then hastily returning, chasing my clit. I gasp, burrying my cuffed hands in his hair, pulling him closer as I want more. Making him moan against me, his voice vibrating against my clit. My sight blurs from the pleasure, a knot tightening inside me 'More.' I beg, 'So close.'

His tongue slide out of me, and I whine. But he licks a stipe up my cunt and then attatches at my clit, sucking and nipping at my sensitivity. My body jolts, and I shut my eyes. 'You gonna cum?' He asks, voice muffled.

I can barely answer, pleasure overwhelming me as white specks my vision, 'Ye- yeah. . ' I moan, 'So close, ju- just like th-' I begin, about to reach my climax again, but suddenly.

He let's go, pushing himself off of my clit with on last lick and sits back on his heels, watching my unravel.

'No, please, Buck.' I squrim, whining at the loss of him. I try to pull him back, but he doesn't budge. 'I'm begging, please, please.' I whimper, closing my legs and pushing them together, moving my hips for any sort of friction to finish what he started.

'Mouthy brats dont get to cum.' He chuckles and grab my knees to pull them apart. I feel a tear roll down my cheek as the knot loosens again. In a last desperate effort, I pull my hands from his hair, burrying two fingers in me while my thumb rubs my clit. Just for a second, that exctatic feeling returns, blissful sparks ignite, until- he pushes his body between my legs to keep my thighs in place and grab my wrists, ripping them from my cunt. Then laughs, he laughs.

'Not funny.' I whimper.

'It is. . . Im not done even done yet.' He says, face glistening with my juices.

I fall back against the hood groaning, as the ache in my core reaches my bones. 'I need you so bad.' I whisper.

'What was that?' He asks.

'I need you. Buck please.' I whimper.

'Can't quite hear you, doll.' He mocks, hands squeezing tighter around my wrists.

'I fuckin need you inside me, ok?' I almost shout, 'Fuck me, hard. I'm begging, jus- just need you in me.'

'Yeah?' He laughs, standing up. Hooking his hands under my knees and slide me closer to him. His hand trace my skin to my waist, getting a tight grib. Then, in one smooth motion, he flips me to my stumache.

I can't help but gasp, 'Think you can act like a brat all night, and get away with it?' He asks, smaking my ass once. I yelp, the sting making my eyes water in the most delicious way. He lines himself up with my entrance, pushing on it slightly. His tip breeching.

'Please.' I whimper, muttering a string of curses. And without warning, he shoves himself inside. Again, I bite my cheek. Pleasure rolls through me, electrocuting every nerve. He grabs my hips, sinking his fingertips deep into my skin. Silently, I beg for them to leave bruises. Theres nothing hotter than a souvenir to remember him by.

He sets a hard pace, thrusting deeply. Pulling back almost all the way before forcefully pushing himself inside again, over and over. My brain doesnt function, I can't form words, all I can do is moan. The sound of slapping skin perfectly lewd in my ear. 'Harder Buck.' I request.

He leans down, grabbing my throat and pulling me flush against his chest, pushing his nose into my cheek, 'Yeah? This not enough for you?' He asks, grunting in my ear.

'Not enough, more.' I mewl.

His hand tightens his grip around my throat, cutting off just enough air to give me a dizzying euphoria. His other hands come down on my ass again, smacking hard as he thrusts deeper. Then re-grips your hip, using it to push and pull your, making our bodies come together even harder, 'Greedy girl, cant fuckn get enough huh?' He groans between breaths, hot against your skin.

I shake my head, the only answer I can manage as I feel my walls twitching, closing around him. He can feel it too, his hips stutter, throwing his thrusts of balance. He bites my ear, lightly tugging on it before kissing my cheek gently, then kissing down my neck.

A stark contrast to the rest of his movements, it's enough to make my head spin. It's almost too much. I feel the blinding pleasure threatening to spill inside me, 'You wanna cum girl?' He asks against the crook of my neck. I nod my head enthusiastically. 'Words doll, use your words.' He breathes.

'Ye- Yes, please.' I manage, 'Wanna cum so fucking bad, Chief.'

He grunts, hand slipping from my throat to my breasts, working them roughly. Palming, squeezing, pinching 'C'mon, cum for me doll.' He says between pants and immidietly, I topple over the edge. Pleasure blinding me as he continues thrusting, continues to assault my breasts. My body begins spasming, and my knees go week, 'Bucky. . . Fuck-' I groan, but he holds me up. All my senses feel like they're about to burst as he prolongs my orgasm, stretching it out in an exhuastingly wonderful way. He bites down on my shoulder, squeezing my breasts, muffled grunts escaping him as his own body spasms and his thrusts halt, his member finally filling me with seed.

He collapses on top of me as we catch our breaths, im so tired I can barely keep my eyes open.

I close my eyes for a second, but doesnt register Bucky pushing himself off of me, or him gathering me in his arms and laying me in the backseat. I don't feel him wrap his jacket around me, or the ride home.

But I do rouse from my sleep as Bucky carries me into my room and lays me down in my bed, he kisses me on the forehead, 'Hey doll.' He whispers, a soft smile on his lips.

I panic slightly as I realise that I'm home, 'Mom n' dad?' I ask anxiously.

'I made a good excuse, don't worry.' He strokes some hair from my face, 'Sleep. You need it. I'll go easier on you next time.' He promises.

'Next time?' I ask, a tired smile covering my face.

'Next time.' He assures, and you drift back to sleep. He stands up and walks to the doorway, silently watching you with admiring eyes as he carefully closes the door.

He tells your parents a made up backstory and they understand, happy to see him. They invite him to dinner next weekend and he happily accepts, he'd do anything to see you again.

He thinks about you the entire car ride home, in the shower as he beats himself off and in the morning as he wakes up with a hard on from dreams off you clenching around him.

He can do nothing but count the days until he sees you again, guranteeing himself it will be a memorable occasion.

[agroteraa]

Never Be Like You

Felix Catton x f!Reader

My fic masterlist

Summary: AU where Saltburn's ending never happened. Felix lived happily up to 2016 (and on), where he met you at your new job. Meaning he is around 29 here and you are younger.

Yes, a fic based on THAT Jacob Elordi edit

Using the song "Never Be Like You" by Flume feat. Kai

Shout-out to Kasey @kcsvids ❤️

Tags: fluff, implied slow burn, AU.

Word Count: 3,8K

Early August in London this year was quite rainy, but fortunately, the day you had to go around the city with the documents turned out to be surprisingly sunny and pleasant. It was the second month of your new job.

The bell on the door in the coffee shop tinkled as you went inside in search of your senior colleague, whose errands you had been running for half the day.

"Annabel, hi! I’ve signed the documents, made copies and notarized them. Here are the originals in the folder, and here are the copies," you said, sitting down on the opposite chair and rummaging in your bag, taking out all the necessary papers.

"Oh, thank you, Y/N! I expected that you would only have time to pick up the documents, and you have already done everything! Cool, you're doing great!" the girl smiled at you, and then added, "Our new capable young employee."

She said this to a young man in a colored seemingly expensive shirt who was sitting relaxed close to her on the couch and drinking coffee. He looked at you with a smile while Annabel was having a dialogue with you and complimenting you on the work done. God. This was the guy from your job, whom you saw rarely and from afar, but you really wanted to know more about him. You didn't even know his name because you were too shy to ask, and besides, you didn't talk close yet to people in your new place.

"Felix. Felix Catton," he introduced himself, extending his long arm across the table.

"Y/N," you answered a little timidly, shaking his hand. His fingers were no less long than the hand itself, and his palm was warm, "Um... Y/N L/N."

"Okay, I have to run, bye, Ann," the guy kissed her on the cheek, threw some money on the table and smiled at you again, "It was nice to meet you, a new capable young employee."

Young. Not that young, it was your second full-time job after graduating from the university, but of course you were younger than the two of them. Annabel, as far as you knew, was almost 29 years old. Felix was probably about the same age, it was hard for you to tell. It seemed that he could be aged from 23 to 33, given that he looked so youthful and lively.

"So... does he work for our company? It seems that I saw him in the office, but very rarely..." you tried to find out information about this man from Annabel as casually as possible.

"Yes, Felix has... a more of a free schedule. His father is a co–owner of the company. So, he is not particularly worried about being a worker of the year. However, it's not like I live at work either," Annabel began to tell you openly. It seems you had already realized that she was also a pretty laid-back person, "So… What are you ordering?"

Despite your protests, Annabel ordered and paid for you coffee and lunch anyway, and then continued, "We studied at Oxford together. You could say he helped me get a job here later."

Oh. You got it. It seems that the picture in your head had finally begun to take shape. It became clear to you why some people worked hard from early morning till night in the same office as someone came at lunchtime at best and generally behaved as if they had known each other half their lives. Because that how it was. Many of them were Oxonians, and had known each other since the university, and some even from boarding schools. Of course, you also received a decent education, but it was nothing compared to Oxford. But this was also often not only about education, but also about lifestyle in general. Your family was not any close to be called poor, but still it was not comparable to this level of life, and you were able to get a current job only because of your hard work and probably decent amount of luck.

You felt a little sad at the thought that for them you probably were a girl who came out of nowhere and did the paperwork, and it was very possible that you would remain that way in their eyes. In Felix's eyes, in particular. That was how you imagined his life as a golden boy, who was apparently at this stage of his life employed in his own parents' company, where he did not need to make any effort to stay there and at the same time receive a round sum of money. Usually it also led to a certain lifestyle.

While Annabel was stirring her coffee with a spoon, you noticed an engagement ring on her hand, which you didn't seem to notice before or just didn't pay attention to.

"Oh... can I... congratulate you?" you asked, barely hiding your awkwardness, "Is it... Felix?"

"Yes, thank you… What? Felix?" the girl laughed, "No. We used to date back at the university, and after that… Well, now we are not. I can't imagine Felix as a fiancé or husband. To be honest, I don't think he can either. He's a pretty free spirit, let's put it this way."

You exhaled and nodded, on the one hand satisfied with the answer, and on the other hand you were upset and got into thinking even more. Yes, it seemed that you two were different, too different, and it came to be clear in just a half an hour on a lunch.

But that didn't stop you from thinking about him anyway for the whole next month. He still rarely came to the office, but now he nodded and smiled broadly if he saw you. You even chatted briefly a couple of times in the hallway and over a cup of coffee in the office kitchen. You still didn't know what he really was like, but he seemed nice and friendly, even though he was always in a hurry for somewhere else. Or someone else. You couldn't help but still look forward to these short meetings.

And that how the autumn came.

"Well, lucky you, Y/N – it seems that a small anniversary of three months of your work here coincides with our seasonal party," sipping from her cup, Annabel informed you, "Once in a season we go out somewhere with the whole team. Well, to be more exact – with the least boring group of people here. Come with us? We're thinking of going to a club this time."

You willingly agreed, pleased that you were invited to this party. After all, it was not for nothing that you'd been Annabel's indispensable assistant, helping her out all the time. And, to be honest, you did a lot of her own work for her. And also you hoped that you and her began to get closer in personal level, even though you were quite different, it was still quite a fun.

Week later, you were hurrying along the streets while looking at the navigator where exactly the club that Annabel was talking about was located. You were late because you spent a lot of time on dressing up and doing makeup. You wanted to make an impression and you were a little nervous. Nervous because all this time you were wondering if Felix would come or not. You were worried about both scenarios, but you still wanted him to come first of all, even though you had no idea what and how should happen next.

The place greeted you with loud enough but pleasant music and colorful lighting. Your colleagues were sitting on the sofas nearby. Annabel waved cheerfully, "Y/N! We're here! Hi! Yes, you're not even the last one, so make yourself comfortable."

You greeted everyone who was sitting. You felt quite awkward, because you didn't communicate with everyone at least on the same level you did with Annabel, but you hoped that the evening would go well and that you didn't come in vain. And it turned out to be quite alright, but anyway, part of your thoughts was roaming whether Felix would come or not.

"Okay, guys, and now we'll drink to the Y/N! She's been helping me a lot lately. Y/N, I hope this is just the beginning of your work with us!" Annabel toasted.

"To a new young capable employee!" said a velvety deep voice behind you. You turned around. Felix stood behind, dressed in a white shirt and jeans. He had a shot glass in his hand and he had some kind of red cowboy hat on a rope behind his neck and back.

You all clinked drinks together and then started to sit back down on the sofas.

"Hello, Y/N," Felix smiled broadly at you, "Glad you were invited too."

"Oh, Felix, where have you been?" your colleagues began to ask him as he sat down with them and began to tell about being stuck in another club and then getting through traffic jams here to you all.

"Unexpectedly. I thought he wasn't coming, huh," you said softly to Annabel.

"Why wouldn't Felix come to the party? It's not like going to office meetings, you know," the girl chuckled.

You continued to chat with Annabel this evening. Felix, unfortunately, did not approach you, and seemingly had fun chitchatting with all the people on the couch in front of you, although he kept glancing at you, so it seemed to you. But maybe it just seemed, because you had been drinking for the first time in a long time, and your head was already starting to feel a little dizzy.

But over time, your interlocutor talked more and more about her own with her long-time colleagues and friends, until she almost completely forgot about your presence. You began to feel gradually lonely in this company. Maybe you were right. A girl from nowhere who couldn’t even afford too many drinks in this place in central London, who was helping Oxford graduates who were, are and will be fine, with paperwork they weren’t really willing to do. But it was better to splurge on another drink than to sit and think all these thoughts.

Walking through the crowd to the bar, you stood in line and chose what to take for yourself. Something strong, but not very expensive, if possible.

"You have a small anniversary in our company today. It should be celebrated," a pleasant voice spoke softly almost in your ear. Turning your head to the side, you found Felix, who was leaning almost his entire body against the counter. He had definitely had a drink and was even more relaxed and cheerful than usual, "It's all on me, of course."

You protested a little, but Catton quickly dismissed all objections, taking two drinks for you at once and one glass for himself, "And this is about time you tell me how do you find the work here with us, where you came from and generally about yourself."

You headed back to the sofa with drinks. Since the path was laying through the dancing crowd, and you had two glasses in your hands, Felix held you protectively, placing his hand on your back and guiding you through all the people, making sure that no one would touch you. The feeling of his big warm hand on your back, on your skin, half-opened due to the design of the dress, definitely excited you and gave you goosebumps.

Some people from your company, including Annabel, was already gone to the dance floor, so you sat down on an empty sofa together and started talking. It was very uneasy and unusual for you to see Felix so close to you, also in such an informal setting. His big brown eyes looked at you attentively while you talked a little about yourself, about your education, how you got a job at this company, what you were doing here and who you started communicating with. What dark fluffy eyelashes he had. He was so handsome. You blushed a little and got embarrassed, but still, because of the abundance of information that you had to tell him, your brain was a little distracted and calmed down.

"That's great, Y/N. You're so... hardworking. And, apparently, you’ve achieved a lot on your own. That's very cool," Felix nodded with a serious face.

"Well, I haven't achieved anything special yet that I would really like, but thank you for the kind words. It's great that you're interested in your future subordinates."

"Oh, so you know? Well... we'll see about that. My dad is a co–owner of the company, but not the owner. So, it's not at all a fact that I'm going to manage over here," Felix was a little embarrassed and cleared his throat, "And I don't know what's going to happen next, I don't guess into the future for that long… Maybe I'll go abroad somewhere, like I've already done before, huh."

Then Felix began to tell about some parts of his own life - a little about his childhood, about studying at Oxford, what he did there and where he went later. He was quite modest and obviously tried not to emphasize his fabulously luxurious lifestyle, but this was the kind of thing that could not be completely kept to oneself. This manifested itself even in behavior and appearance, not to mention the stories.

But you liked, you really did like talking to him. With all that said, Felix Catton had a talent for making you feel like you were welcome, that you were no worse than him, that your lifestyle was no less boring or less important when he wanted to grant his attention. Even if you were completely different. You were listened to very attentively.

Due to this feeling, combined with his appearance and charisma in general, you were ready to never get up from this couch, if only your conversations would last forever.

But the forever ended quickly when Felix's friends yanked him onto the dance floor. Friends, and maybe not only friends. It seemed that many female colleagues and just a lot of the girls nearby were staring endlessly and smile charmingly at him in the hope of getting more of his attention. Of course, you could understand that oh so well. But all the same, you were upset that your chances were probably much less than those of all his acquaintances in his circle. Even if it was just about a sort of a close communication.

You finished your second drink and went to get another one. While you were standing in line, one of this year's hits started playing in the hall. A gentle female voice began to tell her story:

What I would do to take away

This fear of being loved, allegiance to the pain

Now I fucked up and I'm missing you

Never be like you

I would give anything to change this like-minded heart

That loves fake shiny things

Now I fucked up and I'm missing you

Never be like you

You couldn't take your eyes off Felix, who was having fun in the middle of the crowd – he was giving himself up to the music, dancing to the beat. Green, blue and sometimes purple spots of light slid across his face and his clothes. How graceful and natural he was now, as if he had been born on the dance floor.

I'm only human can't you see

I made, I made a mistake

Please just look me in my face

Tell me everything's okay

'Cause I got it

Never be like you

Felix completely broke up and went dancing at the pole jokingly. You didn't know if he was already so tipsy or just so relaxed naturally to that extent, but you couldn't look away with your mouth slightly opened. He was holding onto the pole with one hand, and with the other he was waving in the air, also swinging his hips.

How do I make you wanna stay

Hate sleeping on my own

Missing the way you taste

Now I'm fucked up and I'm missing you

Never be like you

Stop looking at me with those eyes

Like I could disappear and you wouldn't care why

Now I'm fucked up and I'm missing you

Never be like you

Your heart sank. Even though this song was about trying to bring back an existing relationship, it still somehow resonated especially with you right now. Particularly the line "Never be like you", which seemed to repeat your thought, which you carefully tried to hide from yourself tonight. You would never be like Felix.

The crowd gathered at the bar gradually pushed the gawking and not moving you closer to the dance floor, where Catton noticed you.

"Hey, Y/N, why are you just standing there so lost? Join me," the guy said cheerfully, slightly pulling you by the hand closer to him.

You started dancing together, he put on his red hat on to make you laugh a little. He was smiling widely, swaying from side to side bewitchingly in front of you.

I'm only human can't you see

I made, I made a mistake

Please just look me in my face

Tell me everything's okay

'Cause I got it

Never be like you

His white shirt was unbuttoned now, apparently, he had been hot for a while. Beads of sweat gathered on his skin and disappeared with him in the rays of the strobe light from time to time, which shone behind his back. In such lighting, it seemed as if he was moving in slow motion, and that was all a beautiful movie in which you accidentally fell into the place of the main character. But it wasn't a fantasy, it was your night right now.

I'm falling on my knees

Forgive me, I'm a fucking fool

I'm begging darling please

Absolve me of my sins, won't you

You wanted this moment to last forever. And unlike the conversation on the couch, it really felt like it was happening, like in a dream that no one dared to break. You were drowning in his magnetic gaze and smile, which he was giving only to you now. He was like Prince Charming of the 2010’s.

I'm only human can't you see

I made, I made a mistake

Please just look me in my face

Tell me everything's okay

'Cause I got it

Never be like you

Baby, baby please believe me

Come on take it easy

Please don't ever leave me... oooh

Never be like you

You mentally repeated the last lines of this song until your face itself took on a slightly pleading look. Felix seemed to catch it and touched your shoulder. His lips parted in the desire to say something, but he just stood there for a few seconds in silence, as if considering what to say and do next.

"... by the way, you look great today. I mean, your office looks are cute too, but this… You're full of surprises, aren't you?" he said after a while.

You smiled sheepishly as you continued to dance, drifting back into a musical and slightly alcoholic trance until it was interrupted by several of Felix's friends and your colleagues.

"Buddy, we've going home," the guys shook hands, and then started talking about some of their business. You moved a little to the side, and as soon as you did that, Felix slowly began to be surrounded by familiar and not so very familiar people. You went for a cocktail, and then headed to the couch, where you started talking to a colleague of yours. You kept glancing in Felix's direction at the same time, but he still didn't come up, engrossed in talking and some dancing.

After saying goodbye to your colleague, who also left, you finished your cocktail and finally decided to check your phone. Oh. You didn't know it was so late. You started looking for a taxi, but it costed a lot right now. Confused, you sat alone, staring at the screen and sucking from a straw a mix of melted ice and a cocktail from the bottom of a glass.

"Please pardon me for leaving you for a while," the hot hand laid on your back and then its owner appeared behind it, who plopped down on the sofa next to you. He looked at you with slightly regretful doe eyes, "Are you... leaving already?"

"Yes, it's very late, and there's a lot to do tomorrow… But the taxi is still expensive, I guess I'll wait a little longer."

"What are you talking about? I'll get you a car right now," Felix took out his phone and began to quickly type something on it.

"Oh, come on, don't..."

"Hey. We're celebrating your anniversary at work, our new best employee. Have you already forgotten?" the guy interrupted you, grinning, "Tell me your address, please."

You gave your address, Catton smiled slightly.

Five minutes later, a business class taxi pulled up to the club. You just went outside, and the warm air of an early autumn night pleasantly enveloped you after the hot and stuffy nightclub.

"Is this really my car?" you were amazed. Felix turned his head to the left and right, and then, leaning over, said in a serious tone, "I don't see any exactly the same beautiful girl waiting for exactly the same taxi, and do you?"

You giggled and blushed noticeably. There was a pause hanged in the night air.

"Thanks for your company, Y/N. I'm glad you're with us now. I hope we'll see each other more often from now on."

You looked him straight in the eye, and then nodded slightly and slowly.

"Good night. Please text when you... Ah..." Felix rolled his eyes at himself, "I don't have your phone number."

He looked down, shaking his head and chewing lightly on his lip. A knot tied in your stomach. Felix. Catton. Asked. You. Your. Number. It might had been more of a common courtesy, of course, but your heart started beating a lot faster anyway. Of course, you dictated your phone number to him, which made him full of ill-concealed joy. Having recorded it in his smartphone, he said, as if nothing had happened, "Yeah, great, now I have a place to text to find out how you got home," and put you in a taxi.

He gently touched your shoulders once more when he put you in the car. He pressed his lips almost weightlessly to your ear, "Good night again, Y/N. Thank you for this evening," his mumble was very warm and pleasant, you felt your hair rising on your skin.

Watching the taxi leave, from which window you looked at him back, Felix lit a cigarette. He was smiling widely and contentedly, exhaling smoke and slightly twitching his whole body on the spot from another surge of energy. He was obviously going to attend the work more often from now on.

[adrinktostopyourthirst]

Bucky Barnes | One Shot | Finally

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Spy!Reader

Plot: Bucky and you have a hard time staying away from each other. And though you try to push him away, every time he finds you again, the universe finds a new way to pull you apart.

Warnings: 18+. Smut, fluff and angst.

Words: 9,1OO

A/N: Recently I’ve been trying to understand what it is people want to read of my works and I have no idea, so here is my brain in scrambled pieces. I'm so sorry it’s so long, I swear it's worth it!

Romania.

It isn’t often you agree to such an extensive trip to meet up with one of your clients, but apparently this particular one can’t be seen in the more supervised countries. Besides, you’ve never been to Bucharest before, so you’re quite enjoying your drink at the small picturesque café.

You’ve done your research and know damn well who you’re meeting up with. A small part of you is screaming at you not to agree to do business with him or back out now, but your curiosity overrules any common sense. Last you heard, Hydra had lost their favourite asset and you can confidently say you were relieved to hear it. It had been a few too many times that specific organisation had made your job more difficult than it had to be.

A many number of things could have happened to the Winter Soldier. He could’ve been killed, corrupted by another organisation, fled to live as a hermit– You really want to know. It’s the spy in you that enjoys knowing the ins and outs of the criminal world. He’d tried not to mention who he is, but you had a few offers on the table, he needed some leverage to get you to agree to meet him. Safe to say, you were surprised he’d told you he was the Winter Soldier. Big chance you will now be the only person to know about the asset’s current whereabouts. That is, if you live to tell it of course…

Every hair in your neck stands up straight, despite the comfortable weather and the easy going crowd roaming the street. The sudden change in atmosphere has your spy senses stand on alert. Your spine stiffens and you casually look around, slightly discouraged at the way your body has never responded to anything in this particular manner.

You cross your legs and turn to look behind you, scanning every face in the crowd. When you turn back, the seat next to yours is taken, only a rickety metal table separating you from the large man sat in the other chair. Your breath halts in your throat and you look him up and down, instantly recognising the buff man as the Winter Soldier. How? You’re not sure, you’d never really seen a picture.

You check his hands. Gloves. With this weather? To cover up. You check his build and take a particularly long time to do so, because God, this man is broad. He’s all sturdy flesh and muscle, firm and casual. His thighs look like tree trunks and you know the man is fast, despite his build. You force the deliberate sweep of your eyes over his body to appear more nonchalant and confident than you feel.

Then your eyes reach his face and the breath gets knocked out of you. There is nothing in that face that hints towards a stone cold killer. Dark blue, deep set eyes, freckles pattered over his nose and cheeks, lips bitten raw from contemplation and an expression on his face that almost looks like… Nerves?

“Hello,” you start carefully, unable to keep your surprise from your tone, but sounding relatively cool to your own relief.

“Hi,” he says and the tone of his voice is deep, but rough, like he hasn’t spoken in ages. You think that maybe he hasn’t.

“Should I refer to you as the Winter Soldier?” you ask, composing your cool nature entirely now. “Or would you say that is a bit on the nose?”

He huffs a laugh and you smile, feeling the overwhelming urge to make him do that again. “James will do, thanks.”

“Alright James,” you say, taking your time to let your mouth get acquainted with his name, “what is it you need my services for?”

“I hear you’re a spy,” he starts and searches your face. “A good one– the best one.”

“Well now, I’d hate to disappoint,” you purr. “What do you need?”

“It’s not so much a document or one piece of information,” he mumbles and his face hardens as he collects himself. You sit upright and frown as you study him. “I need you as a partner for an assignment.”

You instantly shake your head, “Absolutely not. I’m not working for Hydra, that organisation is–”

“Not Hydra,” he quickly cuts in. “Just me. It’s a personal assignment.”

You wait for him to continue, not appreciating his vague communication if he wants to become partners on whatever this is.

He sighs, “I– I have a lot of… gaps. Things I don’t remember, things I can’t quite place. Years of information. The things I did for Hydra– I wasn’t there for most of it. Neither were a lot of people. So I need someone with access to some dark shit to help me figure it out.”

Chewing your lip, you process the information he gives you and empathy clenches your heart together. James gives you the time you need to put the pieces together. You’d heard of Hydra’s experiments with brainwashing and had already sort of assumed some of their soldiers had only worked for them because of that reason, had stayed far away from the organisation’s shit to steer clear from that danger.

But it’s so different to see it in real life, or what is left of it, you suppose. Many things aren’t quite clear to you just yet. However, you slowly start nodding your head. Your brain starts running a million miles an hour, all the gears turning to form a plan, the way you always do before you agree to a job.

“Can you pay me for the service?” you ask, already wondering to yourself if you’d help the clearly hopeless and damaged man for free, and to be honest, just for kicks. The things you’d dig up from everything he’ll give you– Selfishly, you’d kill for it. Anyone would kill for it.

He gives you a tight-lipped, apologetic smile, “Not that much. But I can save up more.”

You think. Your gut tells you he won’t kill you after he gets what he wants, even though he could. And though you will always keep a close eye on him and everything he’s capable of, your gut feeling has never disappointed you.

So you sigh and shake your head. “That’s okay. I’ll do all of it for free, and you can pay me what little you have to insure that I stay quiet. Sound fair?”

His eyes narrow with a twinkle that you hadn’t expected from a man like him and he says, “Deal.”

“Alright,” you say and finish your coffee before clearing your throat. “First order of business: tell me your full name.”

He shakes his head with a faint smile, “James Buchanan Barnes.”

Oh shit.

You do know him.

Germany.

Relief seeps into your bones as you cross the threshold of your building and you slip into your routine of coming home. Tired feet drag you through your building and to your apartment, and muscle memory unlocks your door. After the week you’ve had, you are ready to turn off your brain and settle down.

You enjoy being this tired though, revel in it. Exhausting yourself with a normal person job and the way it puts your usually restless body to sleep at night is exactly what you wanted for your life.

One step into your own hallway, however, makes your daydream of a quiet night in crumble to your feet. Something is off. You can blame your trained senses for being so instantly on edge, but the apartment you just stepped into isn’t a place that has been vacated for the past nine hours. This apartment isn’t empty.

An even older routine settles into your bones this time and you creep into your home on light feet. The air is warm and the space is completely quiet. You’ve been alive long enough, seen enough, to know quiet is never good.

You don’t turn on any lights and let your eyes adjust to the dark. Ears perked and muscles at the ready to spring into action, you slowly make your way further into your home. And when you slip around the corner and look into your darkened living room, you let out a frustrated sigh at the dark figure lounging on your couch.

“How did you find me here,” you grumble and it is hardly a question.

You can feel him sit up and tune in to your presence. You couldn’t explain it if your life depended on it, but you instantly knew who it was. The dark figure in the dark apartment, waiting patiently for someone to catch him. After all, he will deny it until his dying day, but he does have an awful lot of dramatic flair for someone so stoic.

“Better question is: why are you here?” he counters and you drop your bag onto one of your dining chairs, shooting him an unimpressed glare. “Trying to stay off the radar, are you?”

“And failing, clearly,” you say before he can say it for you. “How did you find me here, James?”

Your eyes are finally fully adjusted and you see the smirk forming on his face. You haven’t seen that smirk in five years. “I have my ways,” he says and pushes off the couch, adjusting his leather jacket. “Now, what are you doing in this abandoned town?”

“It’s not abandoned,” you counter and slip off your coat, deciding to just go about your old routine and ignore his presence as much as you can. Maybe then he’ll go away.

“It’s a shit town and you know it.” He cocks his head at you, eyes tracking all of your movements.

You notice his puzzled look. He’s genuinely wondering what is left of his old ally and you can’t quite blame him. Perhaps he can easily see your lame attempt at finding a normal life for yourself. He has probably tried a thousand times himself to escape the roaring life of saving the world, has probably failed every time, too. But you’re determined to make it work – make yourself normal and live a full life.

And that is all you were to him anyway, just an ally. The entire time, you’d felt that he paid a little too much attention to you, but you supplied critical information and occasionally wiped someone off the map. A spy. Nothing more, nothing less. However, for the infamous Winter Soldier to need your alliance again, you cannot help but feel wary.

After the first time he approached you, you’d spent months together. It was an effort not to grow too close – too much effort. Because you had. It was impossible not to, helping someone literally piece their life together through intimate and awful memories. Digging through protective walls and coping mechanisms to help him rebuild some of his life again. With a lot of reluctance from both of you.

Yes, you’d grown close then. Grown close enough that you fell asleep slumped over the kitchen counter in his awful Romanian apartment, your face sticking to the countless research papers. You’d woken up hours later on his poorly constructed bed on the floor with a blanket thrown over your frame. Close enough that you’d eventually asked him to assist you on your missions. Ones that required a different skillset than your own. Close enough that you cooked for each other, sometimes shared clothes, roasted one another for the mental health issues that lead you both to your current occupations.

After a while, you couldn’t describe your relation to Barnes in any other way than a partnership. Partners. Who had kissed once. Maybe twice. After some bad Vodka.

You sigh and turn to him, “Why are you here, James?”

“I need to lay low for a while.” A wider smirk, his eyes narrowing at you. “I remembered I know someone who is very good at that.”

“Careful,” you warn and roll your eyes. “You just gave me a compliment.”

His smirk turns to a smile and he shrugs off his own jacket, instantly making himself at home in your apartment. A strange thing when it comes to Bucky, since you don’t recall that man feeling at home anywhere. Then, he did always have this incessant cocky streak around you and he is awfully good at getting on your nerves, so he probably sees the perfect opportunity to be a pain in the ass.

“If you so much as sneeze on anything, I swear–”

“Yeah, yeah,” he cuts in, his tone unimpressed. “You’ll skin me alive. You’re always so weird about your stuff.”

You give him a tiny proud smile and decide to make yourself something quick to eat, only to feel him peer at you from the edge of your kitchen. He’s met with a confused frown before you raise your brows at him to make him spit it out.

“What’s the catch?” he asks warily.

You smile and look down at the sandwich you’re making. “Nothing. Just fix your shit and get out of my hair as quickly as possible.”

He winces slightly and you turn to him fully now, slowly taking a bite.

“What.”

Bucky sucks in a short breath and gives you an apologetic look before he speaks, “It might be a while…”

Your brows drop, “What did you do?”

“Nothing, I–”

“Bucky.” You cut him another look, one shaped by many, many instances of working together. “What. Did. You. Do.”

“It’s not important. I’ll make it quick, I promise.”

You open your mouth to continue arguing with him, but decide against it, already done with his shit. Yes, he is doing better and supposedly now qualifies as a good person. But you know the man before you and the soldier cannot stop himself from lying about pretty much everything. He has damaged tendencies. Give him an inch and he will take a mile, show him a weakness and he will exploit it. You genuinely think he doesn’t know how to be different, how to not abuse those effortless skills he trained all those years working for Hydra and surviving it.

“It’s my weekend off,” you tell him instead. “If you get between me and my plans, I will change the locks.”

The corner of his mouth quirks up. “You think I can’t get through a simple lock?”

Another glare is his answer and he raises his hands in surrender. You walk around him and toe off your own shoes, grabbing everything to take a shower as you shove the rest of your sandwich in your mouth. Bucky slowly strolls through your place and examines everything that belongs to you.

“Can you not pretend like you haven’t completely scanned the place already before I got home?” you ask him as you make way for the bathroom.

“It can’t hurt to have a second look,” he mumbles, but you have already closed the door and move take the shower you’ve been looking forward to the entire day.

You should probably work harder to get him out, should probably make an escape plan and move somewhere else. But you know arguing with him is futile and the best approach with him is to patiently wait for him to move on. Bucky doesn’t get attached and doesn’t nest, so he’ll be gone soon enough.

As the scalding water trickles down your scalp and spine, you realise how much more alert you should have been when you noticed someone was in your home. Especially with all of those loose ends and enemies you have scattered across this planet (and others). Yet, somehow you think your body knew it was Bucky waiting for you. After all, it isn’t the first time he’s pulled this shit, waiting up for you. Usually because you kept something from him, he found out and would start ambushing you to fess up.

And even though technically, you haven’t exactly kept anything from him this time, you can’t ignore the dreadful feeling that explaining your current situation will be the hardest thing to ever speak up about. How pathetic, to try and live a normal life when you’re ‘extraordinary’. Ugh, you hate that word. You’re trained well and you refuse to be anything but good at what you put your mind at.

Now, Bucky. He is extraordinary. He has potential to make a difference. You have always felt that. Hated working with him because of that. Not because of him – he never made you feel less than him at all. But–

The water turns cold and you groan audibly, time having slipped away from you as you got lost in thought. Stepping out and drying yourself off, you get ready to walk out of the bathroom. You’re met with Bucky sitting on your couch, reading one of your books.

“Let me guess, warm water’s gone?” he asks, not looking up from the book.

You walk to your bedroom and shrug, “Cold showers are good for you, I heard.”

“I suppose I’ll take the couch then?” he asks, finally looking up from the book.

You turn back and peek through your doorway at him. “You can take the floor if that’s more comfortable for you.”

“We’ve shared a bed before.”

“Not by choice.”

He smirks, “You liked it.”

“You snore.”

“Sleep tight, sweetheart.” He grins at you.

You make to get to bed when you pause and turn back to him once more with a slight frown. “Why are you so cheerful? Aren’t there people after you?”

“Well,” he says, casual as always, “these may very well be my last days, so I might as well be in a good mood.”

You find yourself swallowing hard and desperately search his face for any intel on how true his statement is, without giving away that you might just care a little bit about his well-being. But his grin stays firm in place and he raises his brows in wait for you to call it a night.

Without another word, you close the door between you and crawl into your comfortable bed. And you wonder why it is that you can’t quite get comfortable this time.

…

A powerful jolt rips through your body as you lift out of layers of sleep. You’re too tired for whatever made you wake up so suddenly. It’s too goddamn late for this shit.

But as you gain more and more of your consciousness, your senses start perking up and you realise you might very well be in danger. The gentle and calm voice calling your name with a warm stroke of a hand down your arm, confirms that for you. That specific type of calm in Bucky’s voice sends your body into overdrive.

“We’ve got to go, sweetheart,” he murmurs and is already throwing clothes onto your bed. “Now.”

You sit up and rub your eyes and it dawns on you after a week of Bucky staying at your place. This man wasn’t going to leave you until he got chased out of your apartment. And that day has come.

“Bucky,” you start with a hoarse voice as you climb out of your warm bed and quickly throw on the clothes he picked for you, “who the fuck is after you?”

He takes his time to answer, pulling two fully packed backpacks from the corner of your room that you surprisingly didn’t know he hid there. Oh, this man is going to get an ear full about this bullshit.

“Some weird underground cartel that deals in tech or something,” he grumbles and throws you a pack. You are nearly too slow to catch it before you sling it onto your back. You gape at him after his answer and his face stays solemn as he pushes a hand gun into your hands. “Let’s go.”

“Bucky.”

He stops and turns to you fully. “It’s bad, okay? I’ll tell you later.”

“No. Tell me now.”

He groans out your name, peeking outside while he impatiently chews on his lip. “Don’t do this right now. You can be pissed at me later!”

“I will be pissed at you now,” you seethe, “and later. How about that?!”

He sighs and then grabs your arm, giving you a boyish grin before shooting two bullets through your window, breaking the glass, slinging an arm around your waist, pulling you flush against him and jumping out of the fucking window with you clinging to him. It’s only when you fly about five stories down, that you realise the two of you are attached to a bungee rope that eases your descent. His feet touch the ground first, yours following. He cuts the rope and grabs your hand before he starts running towards the parking lot beneath your building.

“Bucky, you piece of shit!” you yell at him as you run, hearing the faint sound of gun fire behind you over the sound of your ragged breathing.

“I’ll make it up to you!” he simply yells back.

You can hear the smile in his voice. And the worst thing? You feel yourself smiling as well when you realise how easily you’ve slipped back into being his partner in crime.

…

Bucky checks one more time, his gleaming metal hand pulling the sheer curtain aside to peer out onto the dark streets. You hear some shouting coming from outside and still feel your heart pounding, even when you know you have definitely outrun those people coming after you. You hate how out of practice you are. And how much you missed the adrenaline of being on the run with Bucky.

He turns back to you and finds you with your arms crossed, glaring at him. Oh, you know the perfect way to let out this adrenaline. There might be actual steam coming out of your ears.

Bucky cringes and slowly strolls over, already reaching out his hands to use his irresistible charm on you. Like the time he dropped the cake you made one afternoon and tried to make it up to you. Or that time he left some very important documents in one of the buildings he set on fire. Or the time he accidentally deleted your recordings off the TV when you had been looking forward to watching the next episode for two weeks.

However, your burning eyes stop him dead in his tracks and he opens his mouth to say something, then decides against it and closes his mouth again. A second later, he tries again, “Okay. Give it to me.”

You give him a satisfied, albeit sadistic smile, at his willingness to take your scolding and then, you start yelling. You have no idea what words specifically are rolling off your tongue, but your speech starts somewhere during that first meeting in Bucharest, drifts to your entire time together as partners, how you drifted apart, only for him to show up whenever he pleased, and you continue to how he stood at your door a little over a week ago, to him terrorising your happy little life in Germany… To now.

Your voice rises with every instance you tell him about, fire burning in your core and hands flailing to give your story that much more power (even though you couldn’t stop your conviction if you tried). As the grin on his face grows through your rambling, a metal hand pressing to his lips to stop it from showing too much, you burn even brighter with fury.

Then you stop, breathing heavily. You give him a withering look to get him to start speaking up, because let’s be honest, all the two of you really needed was only just a look.

His shoulders slowly stop shaking and he drops his hand, eyes sparkling like a glass of Prosecco in the light. Devious asshole. “I just– I haven’t seen you this alive in a while. It looks fantastic on you.”

You gape at him like a fish and you wonder if the warmth in your face still belongs to your anger. Though you fear it belongs to quite the opposite. Either way, this man certainly knows how to make you passionate. And you realise he knows what you have been trying to do with your fake little life here in Germany.

“I don’t think you–”

“I’m sorry,” he says and steps forward, his large hands cupping your face as he looks down at you with earnest eyes. “I’m sorry for making your life so goddamn miserable. So tell me how to make it up to you.”

And for all the world, you can tell he means it. Can tell that he will do anything to make it up to you. You can almost feel the squeeze of pain in your own heart when you see the disappointment in his eyes after he realises you didn’t enjoy this as much as he had.

But the worst part is, is that you did. You’ve never felt more alive than with him. Never felt more like you. You wouldn’t necessarily call him an adventurer, maybe he is just a magnet for trouble. But whenever you’re with Bucky, you’ll drop anything for him and you’ll burn like an inferno doing so. He makes you into the best version of yourself and he makes you love the parts about yourself that you have been conditioned to feel guilty about.

You sigh, “I don’t know. Never mind.”

He doesn’t let go though and searches your eyes, his own narrowing in suspicion. “I’m going to make it up to you, you know.”

You cross your arms and give him an unimpressed look. “Yeah? How?”

He smirks and your knees weaken. “I could kiss it better.”

“Shameless flirt,” you huff and roll your eyes as an excuse to break his intense stare on you.

“You’re just too proud to admit that my kisses would make you forgive me,” he prods and your eyes snap back to his. He’s right, that is pride surging in your chest to lunge at him.

“You’ve grown too cocky for your own good,” you sneer at him.

“You like it.”

“I assure you, I don’t.”

“Liar.”

“Manipulator.”

He feigns hurt, “Ouch.”

You huff a laugh with a roll of your eyes, “Such a fragile ego.”

He smirks again and you swallow as you fight to look at his lips. So close to your own. “Now you have to kiss me for forgiveness.”

You can’t help but truly laugh this time, your face still safely tucked in his palms and his brows raise with intrigue at the sound of your laughter.

You tell him, “You are so full of shit.”

His smile fades, his eyes large with earnest and all of a sudden, it’s the man standing before you that sat next to you in that Romanian café. Stripped down, bare, rough, and perhaps a bit vulnerable.

“Let me kiss you,” he says in merely a whisper now.

You fight for your life not to falter to that genuine request and the way he said it. “It won’t make me forgive you,” you say softly, but barely hear your own voice over the increased pounding of your heart in your throat.

“I don’t care,” he murmurs. “Just want to kiss you.”

He doesn’t wait for your permission either, because quite frankly, you most likely gave him a look of permission instantly at that request. His soft lips slot over yours and you could’ve never predicted the depraved moan that resounded in the back of your throat as your mouths meet. Your hands instantly slip into his hair as Bucky’s hands slide around your waist to pull you closer, fingers digging into your flesh possessively.

The kiss deepens when his tongue meets yours and he lets out a groan of his own, a sound so addicting that you instinctively tug on his hair to hear it again. The laugh against your lips is rough as he hauls you closer and changes the kiss. Something more desperate and impatient. Something hot and sweaty and slightly messy. You might be walking as Bucky finds something to press you up against or lay you down on, and you almost squawk in surprise as you fall back onto the double, motel bed.

Though before you can say anything else, Bucky is on you again, his mouth demanding and greedy against yours. His hands feel and grab and squeeze every inch of you and you grind your hips upward for his weight. You want his heaviness between your hips and on your stomach and against your chest.

Growing impatient, convinced that Bucky’s brain might no longer be working, you lock your ankles around his hips and pull him down between your legs, sighing a groan of relief at the feeling of him tucked against you so warmly.

“God dammit,” he grunts and gives one luxurious roll of his hips against yours, making you whine as your pulse hammers down in your core.

His mouth grazes against your neck now and you can hardly breathe, panting as if you’ve run a marathon. The pressure between your hips leaves as he moves further down and you buck your hips at the ache he leaves.

“Bucky,” you whimper and look down, heart slamming in your throat at the sight of him. He messily yet gently makes his way down your body. Hands roughly pushing up your shirt as his lips find the plane of your stomach, kissing from your bra, down to your hips that you can’t seem to keep still.

Your body feels so heavy, yet so light without him on top of you and you can’t remember any moment before this kiss. Before five minutes ago. Everything is solidified. Your entire history with him. And Bucky presses a kiss just below your navel that confirms that feeling, his hands peeling off your jeans. That is until he speaks.

“Listen to me,” he orders and you freeze at the sound of him. He’s only sounded like that during missions where either of you might die. So serious and detrimental. “Don’t ever try to build a life without me again.”

“Bucky–”

“No,” he snaps and you close your mouth. “Don’t ever pretend like we don’t exist. Like you and I aren’t supposed to do this shit together, like you are better off without me, like I am better off without you. That’s bullshit.” You give him a questioning look. Where is this coming from? “I’m going to kiss you and you are going to forgive me. And then I am going to kiss you some more.”

He waits then. For you to answer, to process what it is he is saying exactly. It’s a lot of words with a lot of meaning, yet you’re not sure if this is the declaration you didn’t know you were waiting for.

So you speak from your gut and let out a breath, “Finally.”

Bucky smiles at that and surges upward, clearly happy with that intuitive answer. His lips claim yours once again and then you feel his fingers inching up your thigh.

You whine softly against his lips and you feel him smile as his fingers reach your drenched core. Two fingers slip through your folds to explore your wetness and Bucky drops his head into the crook of you neck.

“Finally indeed,” he breathes and slips his middle finger into you, making you whimper and buck your hips.

The stretch against your swollen walls sends an ache through your abdomen that cries out for more. You cannot explain the desperation to have him, to have every empty pit of you filled with his essence. His finger curls up and you throw your head back, making Bucky raise his own head to look at you.

“There?”

You nod frantically and Bucky pushes in another finger, making you tense up around him. He curls that one too and you don’t recognise the sound spilling from your lips. You’re already so fucking full.

As Bucky teasingly darts his thumb over your swollen clit, he traces his tongue over your mouth and you gasp for air at the sensation.

“Bucky, fuck!” you cry and he pushes his mouth to yours in a claiming kiss, his fingers moving faster as his thumb rotates over your clit. You can barely kiss him back, overtaken by pleasure as he pumps his fingers over and over until you can hear your wetness surround his sinful digits.

It is by far the hottest thing you have ever experienced. So much time has passed and now this beast of a man who tries everything to make you blush with his flirty persona, is bent over you with his fingers peeling your pleasure to the surface like his own fucking release depends on it.

His chest is heaving from watching you, brows pulled together, eyes dark as they rake over you hungrily, muscles flexing as his hand disappears between your legs.

His leg slips beneath your knee and pulls your leg up to finger you in a different angle and your nails bury themselves in the muscles of Bucky’s neck, abdomen flexing at the wave of pleasure that courses through you. “More. Oh my God, more!”

“I know, I can feel it,” he grunts and slows his fingers. “But I’ve waited ages for this. I refuse to let it be over so soon.”

Your brain is nothing but cinders and you shake your head violently, “No! No, please. You can have everything, just let me come. Please.”

Bucky pecks your lips. Once. Twice.

“You want to come all over my hand, pretty girl?” he murmurs in your ear and you can only gasp at the press of his fingers against your spot. “Can I lick you up after?”

You clench around him like a vice, his low voice making you drip onto his palm, his words incinerating what is left of your pride. You can only nod, so you do. And his hand starts moving again. Faster, deeper, more thorough. You keep nodding, your moans raising, your pleasure retreating like a snake ready to strike. Oh God, oh God, oh God–

“Come.”

Your hips fly to the ceiling when you come, thighs trembling and closing around his hand. Bucky keeps moving and thrusting and curling until he has wrung all of your pleasure from your body and you feel like you’re made of jelly. Your voice is hoarse from yelling your release and the sheets below are drenched with your desire.

Soft kisses are pressed to your face and that is how you return from whatever plane of existence you went to. His gentle laugh makes you shiver and you open your eyes to find him licking his fingers like there is caramel dripping from them. You swallow hard and zero in on that action, making his eyes sparkle.

But something changes when you reach up to stroke his hair and his eyes flutter. Your eyes rove over his face in admiration and your entire soul sighs at the sight of him. Bucky looks down at you curiously and cocks his head.

“What is it?” he asks and you chew your lip, trying to find the words.

“You and me, huh?” you murmur with something like wonder in your voice. Bucky can only nod. You continue, “Who would’ve thought…”

Bucky leans down and kisses you. Soft, slow, deep. It makes your body sing. And he shuffles back to make himself at home between your legs. Though as he does that, he remains his focus on kissing you. Deeper, more, desperate. Depraved. He moans and breathes and you swear you hear him whimper, his hips grinding over your oversensitive cunt as he gets lost in kissing you.

Raking your nails over his scalp, you once again wrap your legs around his hips and pull him down. And if Bucky hadn’t snapped his leash just yet, this does it. He turns wild and passionate and heavy. One hand of his and one hand of your own both reach down, messily working together to get rid of his jeans. He shimmies out of them, not bothering to get rid of them entirely, but bothering to at least take off his shirt.

Your fingers drag down his pecs and abdomen, trying to memorise every curve and edge with what little brain capacity you have left. You feel like no more than a flame, no more than passion and want and need. And when Bucky slides his bare cock through your folds to slicken himself, you shudder so violently, your breath shudders with it.

“Woman, you are going to kill me,” he breathes and nips at your lips.

You almost growl with impatience, “Then fuck me and die already.”

He laughs, bold and happy, before thrusting into you in a long stroke. Home. Oh fuck, he’s home. Both of you freeze, taking in the moment of being fused together before he slowly pulls out and out and out. And sliding back in with an agonizing thrust.

Something in you clicks. Something so vital, so necessary. And Bucky feels it too.

“Yes,” he groans and presses another kiss to your lips, like he can’t get enough. “This is it.”

You nod and close your eyes in pleasure. In relief. You shudder with emotion and clamp onto him. Bucky keeps pressing kisses to your skin. Your neck, your lips, your cheek, temple, forehead.

“This is it,” you choke out and Bucky smiles. “You’re it.”

Bucky breathes a sigh, as if he’s been waiting ages for you to admit it. “Finally.”

Infinity War.

Biting your lip and bouncing your leg, you try to let the rumble of the swift jet calm your nerves. Your eyes search the cabin and go over the confusing screens for the thousandth time.

“Nervous?” Natasha’s sensual voice sounds next to you and you force a smile.

“Why would I be nervous?” you ask and smirk at her. “We’re only stepping into a war with the probability of us winning being like…” Zero? Less than zero? You sigh, “I don’t want to think about that.”

She bites back her own smirk and raises her eyebrows. “Wasn’t talking about the war. Are you nervous about seeing him?”

Bucky.

You glare at her after quickly glancing around to see if anyone heard her, making Natasha try even harder to hold back a smile.

Yes, you were nervous to see him. So much had happened. So many aspects of your spy work had suddenly intermingled and now you are fighting along with the Avengers. Even after you were sure they had torn themselves apart over Bucky. Being caught in the middle of that had put you and Bucky’s relationship –if you could even call it that– so far to the back of both your minds, you barely had time to mention it to anyone until Steve shipped him off to Wakanda to get some real help.

You and Bucky were over before it even started and you think that maybe it’s for the better. Neither you nor Bucky are any good at that relationship shit anyway. It showed over and over.

Luckily enough, you’d found plenty of distraction being on the run with Sam, Natasha and Steve. No Bucky in sight, but knowing he was safe and taken care of. Private mission after mission with other people you cared about, people who didn’t know about you and Bucky, one of them eager to forget about Bucky himself.

You barely gave it any thought.

Except you thought of Bucky every day.

And now you get to see him again. However, if any time would make you reconsider any commitment at all, it would be now.

“No,” you answer and then turn serious. “I mean, I was. But now I’m just preparing myself for either grief, or death.”

“Are those our only options?” she asks with a displeased frown. “Why not prepare for victory or somethin’?”

Giving her a long and hard stare, you sigh deeply. “Yeah. You’re right. If I die, I might as well die hopeful.”

“That’s my girl,” she grins and you bump her shoulder with yours, finding your own smile breaking through.

That’s when Steve gives Sam the coordinates to fly through a barrier and show you the hidden – and beautiful – kingdom of Wakanda. So you ignore every jittery feeling you have in your stomach at possibly seeing Barnes again, and you channel it all into hope.

…

Natasha strokes her hand over your shoulder as you walk up to king T’Challa, who’s flanked by his closest guard and a palace that screams to get you on your knees to worship. You barely hear the conversation the king has with Steve, partly because you’re still in awe of the beautiful place around you.

Now this, this is a refuge.

“How are we lookin’?” Natasha asks from next to you and that’s when you start to pay attention. You’d need a hell of a lot of man-power to win this.

“You will have my Kings Guard,” T’Challa starts, “the Border Tribe, the Dora Milaje, and…”

“A semi-stable hundred-year-old man,” finishes a voice that makes your entire system dysregulate. Oh God, it’s been so long since you’ve heard the warm timber of that voice.

You notice your hands have started shaking and clutch them behind your back, squeezing courage out of them to face your past, as Bucky Barnes walks up to hug Captain America.

“How’ve you been, Buck?” Steve asks and Bucky answers with a heart-stopping smile.

“Uh, not bad,” he answers, “for the end of the world.”

They share another warm look before Steve turns to everyone behind him and then to the king, “Should we prepare?”

A few minutes later, you’re following the king inside with all of his closest guards and your own team, which now includes Bucky. Focusing your eyes on everything around you, you barely notice the large hand slipping around your elbow and pulling you into another hallway.

You know better than to scream for help and you use the momentum to swing the person around and pin them to the nearest wall with a knife to their throat. But the air rushes from you when you stand face to face with Bucky.

“There she is,” he grins and slowly raises his hands in surrender.

You back away slowly and look at him like a gaping fish, your insides pounding and swirling and thrashing as your body heats with adrenaline. It’s him, it’s him, it’s him.

“New arm?” you ask him, your voice coming out surprisingly steady, and he glances at the appendage, flexing his hand between your faces.

“Yeah, you like it?” he asks and he almost sounds like a young boy, genuinely interested in what you think of it, of him.

And you calm. Everything inside of you settles and the heat turns to warmth. Your insides seem to melt with relief and you throw your arms around his neck, almost tipping over until Bucky’s arms automatically slide around your waist to pull your pliant body tightly against his. He’s so big and strong and warm.

“I’ll take that as a yes?” he laughs softly and one hand starts to stroke your hair gently as you huff out a sob into his neck. “Oh, sweet girl. You’ve never been sad to see me before.”

You finally pull back and cup his face as he lets you survey him closely, him grinning widely at the worry in your every feature. You breathe, “You’re good. You’re safe.”

He nods and takes your hands, pressing a kiss to your palm. “So are you,” he whispers and you nod.

“Not for long,” you add, deflated.

He gives you a sad smile. “Now, who would we be if we didn’t go down fighting, hm?”

You smile slightly at that. “Back on the same team.”

He presses a gentle kiss to your lips and the planet stops turning.

“Finally.”

The Blip.

Another knock sounds and you roll your eyes, throwing on a quick cardigan as you hop over to your door. Unusual, for your quiet, lonely evenings to get interrupted like this. You’re ready to cash in what you can only assume is some complaining neighbour or your awful land lord when you open the door and are met with a familiar face that makes your heart squeeze together.

“Steve,” you breathe.

“Hey.”

You step aside to let him in and take a deep breath.

“Want something to drink?” you ask as you close the door behind him and let him venture into your home. Or, whatever you have tried to turn into your home. It had never been more than the latest home trends and some empty picture frames.

“Aren’t you going to ask me how I found you?” he asks and you get a feeling of déjà vu.

But you shake your head with a forced smile, “I left a trace for Natasha to track for emergencies. I know how you found me.” You give him a pointed look and Steve actually has the decency to look slightly apologetic.

That look tells you enough about how much of an emergency this is and you wonder what prompted Natasha to decipher your code and hand your location to the Captain. Maybe he was the one breaking and could use a familiar face. Maybe something turned him awfully worried about you. Maybe-

No.

“Aren’t you mad that Natasha told me?” he asks unsurely and you give him a tight-lipped smile, taking a seat in one of your dining table chairs and ushering for him to do so as well.

“Would you believe me if I said that it’s actually quite nice to see a familiar face after five pretty lonely years?” you refute and he gives you a warm smile.

“It’s good to see you, too, Kid.”

A comfortable silence settles between you two and you fidget with your hands, staring at them intently before raising your face back to Steve. “Why are you here, Cap?”

He lets out a long sigh. “Ever since the Blip,” he starts and you can feel him debating whether to continue, “I never– I didn’t get to tell you how sorry I am about Bucky.”

You freeze and slowly turn your gaze to him. “Okay. Now I am pissed at her.”

“Natasha didn’t tell me,” he quickly assures and you raise a brow at him. “He did.”

You fall quiet at that. “Bucky told you about…”

“What,” he laughs. “Didn’t think you two were serious enough for him to tell his best friend about it?”

You reply with a humourless laugh of your own. “He um– He wasn’t a very committing guy. And I don’t blame him. Why commit to something if you might lose everything all over again?”

The pity in Steve’s gaze feels burning to your skin. “Well, if you’re that scared of losing something, it might be worth committing to,” he says and you find yourself agreeing with the wise bastard.

“Well, I committed and look where I am now,” you huff. “Turns out, he was right all along.”

“Kid–”

“Why are you here, Cap?” you try again, all of a sudden too eager to get rid of him.

It takes a while for him to answer and dread settles low in your belly. When he starts talking, you’ve already started shaking your head. “We have found a way to bring them all back.”

You still. And you stay like that. Seconds. Minutes. Maybe another five years have passed.

“Did you hear what I said?” he tries.

“I don’t believe you.”

“It’s true. We figured out a way. Time travel.”

You bark a laugh and give him a pointed glare. However, your vision is already slightly impaired by the tears pooling at your waterline. “Don’t,” you stop him before he continues elaborating. “Do you have any idea how many times I’ve thought about this in the past five years? That you, or Nat, or even Tony fucking Stark himself would stand at my door and tell me we figured it out? About a million times, Cap. And the more normal this delusional scenario became in my head, the more absurd it seemed to be. And now, you expect me to just believe that nearly five years on the dot, you have figured out a way to return everything to normal?!”

Steve can take it, the sudden outburst of your disbelief. He has definitely encountered a whole lot more scepticism in his life. But his heart breaks a little for you. Bucky had tried to be so casual when he finally told Steve about you, but Steve had caught the sparkle in those hundred-year-old eyes and he couldn’t describe the relief of Bucky having found someone, let alone you.

But now, to see you so far removed from Bucky – from hope. He hates it.

“I waited,” he almost whispers. “Until I was completely sure. We need you for this.”

You blink away your tears and one rolls down your cheek. Steve quickly reaches to catch it and cups your face. A touch normally so very unwelcome, but now you cannot help but bury your face in his palm.

“You’re sure?” you ask, voice breaking.

Steve pulls you in and up to his chest, engulfing you in a tight hug. “Time to bring our best friend back, Kid.”

Time Travel.

You cannot help but smile when you see the handsome brainiac hunched over a laptop near some high-tech stage that you can’t seem to look at too long without talking yourself out of this.

“Hey, Tony,” you say quietly as you walk up and his brown eyes light up when he hears your voice. Stepping away from the screen, he opens his arms wide and pulls you into a tight hug. Another comfortable embrace that you can only breathe in and cherish.

“My favourite spy,” he murmurs and pulls back.

“How are you doing?” you ask him.

He gives you a knowing look. “Oh, you know. Good. Until he showed up,” he sneers with a pointed look at Steve, who simply rolls his eyes and crosses his arms.

“Yeah,” you sigh, “he has a way of interrupting peace.”

Tony snorts. “Now that, is what I call a paradox.”

You laugh and pat his shoulder, “Pepper and Morgan?”

“They’re wonderful.” He grins, but you can see the fear shining in his eyes and you give his shoulder a firm squeeze.

“Thank you for doing this, Tony.”

He smirks in answer. “I swear, if you and Barnes don’t openly kiss after all I am about to sacrifice, I will find the stones and undo both of your existences.”

You shoot a thunderous glare to Steve, and to Natasha who is walking up behind the Captain. But Tony stops you before you can scold them on their horrible secret-keeping skills, “Pepper told me.”

You grit your teeth.

The Avengers are a bunch of gossips.

The Endgame.

You stumble backward, your sprained ankle and broken ribs somehow only a faint ache over the sight before you. You almost trip over debris, or a body, or just air and you keep blinking to see better or to make it all go away, you don’t know.

He did it. Tony did it. You’re sure you can still feel the snap of his fingers vibrate through your spine. And there he is. Slumped against more debris, half of his face cracked like burnt coal, his suit barely reflecting its original colours. The blue light at the centre of his chest is fading, shuttering and then… it goes dark. With Pepper’s hand over it.

Your own hand barely muffles the sob trying to break through and you stumble over and over again as you back away from that horrible, awful reality. He did it. But at what cost?

You turn around and start jogging. How? You’re not sure. Your body is in no state to hurry. But it’s incomplete. You were barely strong or extraordinary enough to be of any help during the fight, but you tried your best. Helping people in the field, some war medic patching up gushing wounds. You’d cashed some punches and kicks yourself. Dealt them, too.

It was all because you needed to be there. Because you needed to stay alive. Needed to stick around to see him again. And now… Now… You barely survived this, barely made it through. And Tony died. Tony Stark. The chance of him still being out there-

You start running faster. Hobbling and grunting from the pain.

“Bucky,” you voice is raw and frantic, it’s barely a sound as you cry out for him. “Bucky! Bucky!”

Head swinging from side to side, you hope the soldier reveals himself from behind one of the plumes of smoke. Further and further away, you flee from the horrifying scene of whatever is left after Thanos. You need to find him, but you can’t identify anything on this war ground.

If he’s dead. If Bucky is dead–

Your head whips around so fast, your neck might crack, when you’re sure you hear your name. Everything about you goes quiet and you hold your breath like it will make any difference. Slowly, you walk in the direction where you assume the sound came from, but you almost cringe at the idea that you might just be going insane. After all those explosions, your hearing can’t possibly be this sharp.

Though perhaps intuition is at play here, because you’ve always been able to feel him. Always knew it when it was him waiting up for you, or looking for you, or needing you.

“Bucky,” you croak again.

“Here…” It’s so quiet. But you hear it over everything else and follow the echo of the sound.

“Bucky,” you rasp out. “I’m coming!”

And there he is. On hands and knees, struggling to get up. You can only describe your approach as a dive, as you crash onto your wobbly knees and wrap your arms around him. His body instantly stops struggling and falls into your rib cage.

He’s here. He’s here. He’s here.

“Yeah,” he groans. “’M right here.”

You had no idea you were sobbing it to him, but you don’t care as your hands grapple for a better hold of him. He does the same until both of you are kneeling in front of each other, cupping each others’ faces to check for injuries.

“You look pretty all roughed up,” he mutters and you smile through your tears.

“You look awful,” you reply and he chuckles before pulling you into his chest. “But you’re home.”

He shudders and you might actually hear him let out a sob of his own as he tightens his grip on you.

“Finally.”