#i feel like one of these days I'll have to actually make some of the recipes I keep adding ha ha! | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

littlechivalry · 2 days ago

Text

Wedding Bell Blues

(no Upside Down AU, meet-ugly, Baker!Steve/wedding singer!Eddie)

Eddie is a wedding musician and it's pretty great actually. It's not the rock star life he dreamed of but it's a damned sight better than most people including him expected of Al Munson's little boy.

Eddie gets to play music. For a living. And he does pretty well. He gets to dress up a little snazzy. He gets free fancy food and a couple of drinks. And he gets to shoot his shot with anybody that looks like fun.

He's good at it too. That's the best part. His younger years spent being a low level drug dealer and a high level weirdo mean he can read a room in an instant. He gets the playlist from the bride usually, presses for some other song ideas, and he can tell who to take requests from at six paces. And who to ignore from across the room.

It's a good time.

Unfortunately not all ceremonies can be winners and based on the tension Eddie has felt from almost everyone involved in today's wedding it was going to be a tough gig.

Everything starts in an hour but Eddie isn't on until the reception so he has plenty of time to grab a smoke before soundcheck. He knows the venue pretty well and there's an alcove next to the vendor loading area. Nice flowers, a decent bench, and it's nowhere near the dumpsters.

This venue butts up against a small patch of woodland and Eddie wonders if he might have time to check it out, see if there's anything inspiring. He doesn't hike but he does enjoy a walk in nature.

Before he gets the chance a baby blue van with 'Steve's Sweets' painted across the side pulls up, blocking his sight line.

He mourns the loss of his view right up until the driver pops the door open and climbs out.

Oh, the beauties nature provides.

Acid wash jeans which under any other circumstances Eddie would laugh at are lovingly hugging possibly the finest ass he has ever had the pleasure of seeing.

The rest of the picture - when he can drag his attention away - is pretty choice too. A soft looking pink sweater, sleeves pushed up to expose sun bronzed skin making Eddie idly wonder if the man is that tan all over.

The crowning glory is a gorgeous head of hair framing a face that Eddie can only describe as pretty.

Eddie tries to turn his attention back to his cigarette. Admiring someone is one thing, leering like a creep is entirely different.

He takes a last drag and drops the filter on the gravel, grinding it out under his feet. Mentally he says farewell to the handsome stranger and turns to go back inside.

Eddie takes two steps before a suit clad man comes out of the building and pushes past him in a rush.

"Steven."

The man's not yelling, but his voice is the kind of loud that demands to be heard.

Eddie turns to watch as the man approaches the van and the other guy, Steve apparently, standing in front of it.

"What the hell are you doing here dressed like that."

Eddie should go inside. This isn't his business. But one of the perks of working weddings was the drama and this was very promising.

He stays where he is, standing just in front of the door. In case either man looks in his direction Eddie actually mimes patting at his jacket like he is looking for his smokes.

"I'm delivering a cake, Dick. And if it wasn't for Diana I wouldn't even be doing that much. She deserves to get something good out of this day."

Eddie bites back a smile, lowering his head a little so he can still watch what was happening ideally without being noticed.

"You will refer to me as father. I believe I have earned at least that much respect."

Eddie feels his eyebrows rise. This kind of drama was another part of why he likes weddings. Better than the soap operas he watches with Uncle Wayne.

"Sure," Steve snorts. "Tell you what, I'll compromise," and he continues, "Riiichaaaard."

"Grow up, Steven. You were invited here as a guest. You had better have a tuxedo in that stupid truck of yours, the ceremony starts in an hour."

"I was hired to bake a cake. Part of my fee includes delivery. That is literally the only reason I'm here. You and the future ex-Mrs Harrington will have to celebrate without me. Try not to cry yourself to sleep about it."

"You little asshole," Richard snarls. "You think you're better than me. You think I wanted you here? You owe me your presence. I have important people coming to this wedding and I need them to see my dutiful son at my side."

The baker laughs, a low nasty chuckle that sends a perverse shiver down Eddie's back.

"Tell you what, Dick, I'm booked up today but I'll come to your next wedding." Eddie looks up to see Steve is grinning, bright and as sharp as a knife. "I'll even get you a toaster."

Eddie lurches in place as he sees Richard lunge towards Steve. He is too far away to stop the man but he has to do something.

Before he takes a step the door swings open again and a petite woman comes rushing out.

"Richard?"

Eddie watches as she runs forward tugging at the satin bathrobe she is wrapped in. She freezes a few feet away from what had been brewing into a nasty fight.

"Steve? You're here-- oh, but your suit! Richard? What's going on?"

The older man doesn't turn around, doesn't seem to notice her at all but Eddie watches Steve gingerly move until he is standing between his father and the woman.

"Hey Diana," he says softly. "Sorry you had to see this, dad and me just have a difference of opinion. Everything's fine."

Eddie feels something in him clench. He is very familiar with the tone in Steve's voice. He had heard it from his uncle Wayne to his dad when he was a little kid. It is soft but firm, implacable. Eddie isn't sure exactly what is coming but he can tell Steve knew and that it would be bad.

The venue usually had at least two security patrolling the grounds, more if the reception was expected to be contentious. Eddie doesn't know where they are right now but hopefully not far.

"See what you've done Steven? God, you're useless."

"Richard, don't say that," Diana says, her voice rising.

The older man is turning from pink to red and Eddie can see Steve moving slowly, shifting his father's attention to him.

"That's me, Richard. Useless Steve. Flunked out of college and he bakes cookies like some kind of fairy. You sure you want to parade your failure of a son in front of the hoi polloi?"

Eddie hears Diana's gasp from where he's standing. "Steve, what are you talking about? Richard what's going on?"

Richard turns his glare on her and Eddie feels himself moving forward almost against his own will. He's not sure what he'll do when he gets there but he's never been the bystander type.

Steve just laughs. Bright and angry. "I'm not sure what my father told you about our relationship but we don't have one."

"No," she says. "Your father-- he told me-- "

When Eddie met her a few weeks ago he had seen a confident, charming woman that knew exactly what she wanted and was excited to be married. Now she looks confused, maybe even scared.

Eddie has gotten closer to this whole altercation than he wanted to be but since he is there and it looks like Steve and Richard are busy trying to glare holes in each other Eddie steps up to Diana and lightly grasps her elbow.

She startles and turns to face him. Her eyes are wide, wet and staring.

"Mr. Munson," she asks, softly.

Eddie tries to smile. "Mr. Munson is my uncle, ma'am. It's Eddie. Let's get you out of here, okay? Back inside."

Eddie is able to gently guide her a few steps away. He hates turning his back on the other two men but he needs to get Diana out of reach for whatever is about to happen.

"I dont understand," the bride mutters. "Steve used to be such a sweet boy. Mr. Harrin-- Richard. Oh, I'm so silly. Richard. He said-- this is so embarassing."

Her voice is pitched and tight and if she isn't crying yet she would be soon. Eddie resolves to get her inside and into the arms of literally any friendly face.

"Hey," Eddie says. "Let's just--" he scrambles for a name. Anna? Annie? "Amy, right? Your maid of honor? Let's get you to her, okay. You can sit down."

Diana nods.

Behind him he can hear Richard and Steve hissing noxious words back and forth. There is no shouting but the air is heavy and hot with anger. Even though he was outside Eddie feels like he can't breathe.

Eddie gets Diana to the door, hadn't realized how close they really were, maybe 30 feet if that. It's open, anxious faces framed in weathered oak. He hands Diana off to her Maid of Honor who quickly sweeps the woman deeper into the hall and then he nods to Patricia Abernathy, the event space manager.

"Think we're gonna have a cancellation," he says, nodding towards the departing woman.

She rolls her eyes. "Can't say I'm surprised. I had a bad feeling about this one."

Eddie scoffs. "You have a bad feeling about all of them."

He turns to face where the two men are still in a stand off in front of the van. "You're not wrong though, I think. At least I hope they cancel."

Patricia snorts. "We got the deposits locked down and the contract is airtight so if they cancel we still get fifty percent of the remaining fee. I'll take that for the rest of the day off."

"You got a date, Patty? And it's not me? You're breaking my heart."

"Ha," she says flatly. "That pretty boy is more your type and from the way he's talking you're in with a chance. Now you keep an eye on those two. Security is on their way, we'll see if they can get here before these guys start really butting heads."

Eddie nods. It isn't the first time he had been called on to help manage fractious families.

He turns back in time to see Richard take a swing at Steve. The younger guy steps back out of the way and Eddie can hear his mocking laugh as far away as the door.

He moves closer to the two of them. Eddie isn't going to get in the middle of the fight but maybe if he reminds them there are other people around that might be enough to calm them down.

He watches Richard lunge forward and swing again. This time Steve can't move away fast enough and the blow glances off of his cheek.

"Hey," Eddie calls, now jogging towards them. "Hey, knock it off! You wanna fight take it somewhere else!"

Steve turns to face Eddie, opening his mouth as if he was going to say something but all that comes out is a low grunt as Richard hits him in the shoulder and shoves him to the ground.

Eddie throws himself forward, pushing Richard away. "What do you think you're doing," he shouts in the man's face but Richard doesn't seem to hear, pressing back against Eddie.

"You little bastard," Richard shouts at his son. "You're worthless! I don't know why I bothered."

"Go to hell," Steve replies.

That seems to make Richard even angrier which Eddie hadn't thought was possible. He isn't sure he will be able to hold him off much longer.

"Hey, what's going on here," a low even voice calls. It is the venue security guard, his partner just behind him with a hand on his radio.

Eddie feels himself relax and then stumbles back as Richard pushes him aside to fall on his son again.

Eddie turns to see both guards trying to pull the older man away as he continues to hit his son, screaming obscenities.

Not sure how to help, Eddie stands by. When he sees an opening he lunges forward and takes hold of Steve's shoulders, pulling him back and away.

The younger man fights against him at first, eyes closed and arms up in front of his face. Eddie figures he probably didn't know whose hands are on him.

"Hey. Hey. It's me, Eddie. Shit. I work here. You're safe, security has your dad. You're safe."

Eddie steps back, loosening his grip on Steve but still keeping one hand on his shoulder, trying to sooth him.

A few feet away Richard is still twisting, trying to get free and attack his son again, but Eddie can see the guards have a good hold on him and it doesn't look like they will be letting go any time soon.

As Steve calms down Eddie lets go of his shoulder, instead crouching next to him. "You doing okay? I saw you had you hands up but he got a few hits in."

Steve lowers his arms and sits upright. He twists his neck back and forth and shifts his shoulders before opening his eyes and looking up at Eddie. "I'm okay. I'm fine. God, it's a soap opera isn't it? Fuck."

Eddie lets himself drop into a seat next to the other man. They both watch in silence as the guards march Steve's father around the corner to the front of the event hall.

"You know the bride? Diana," the guy asks. "She was my babysitter. When I was eleven."

"Oof," Eddie says. "So she was--"

"Seventeen then, and now it's been twenty years for her and about three wives for him."

"Scandalous," Eddie murmurs. He sees Steve smile and feels relieved. "What will people say. The 'hoi polloi' I believe you called them?"

Steve snorts. "A crowd of empty suits that exist solely to tell my dad how respected he is. Will he get arrested?"

"Maybe," Eddie says. "I think that might be up to you. It's assault at least."

"Ugh," Steve says, rubbing his face. "That's all I need. I'm trying to get him out of my life."

"Well," Eddie says. "I can attest that jail is very good at keeping deadbeat dads out of your life."

Steve starts laughing and then winces, wrapping an arm around his stomach.

"Shit, you are hurt," Eddie says, scrambling to his feet. "Do you need an ambulance? Patty probably called 911 by now."

Steve waves him off. "I'm fine. This is not my first fight and my old man hits-- well, I was gonna say 'like a girl' but then my best friend would kick my ass and I'm way more scared of her," Steve says, laughing softly.

He looks up at Eddie and holds out his free hand. "You gonna help me up? Or is chivalry dead?"

"Chivalry," Eddie repeats. "You a damsel in distress?"

"I might as well be," Steve says. "Now come on."

Eddie laughs and reaches down, gently guiding Steve back to his feet. He feels the man's weight leaning on him for a few seconds and despite the circumstances Eddie has to admit Steve feels good in his arms.

Once he is steady Steve steps back and Eddie lets him go.

Steve moves to the van and leans up against the metal surface. Eddie walks over to join him.

"So," Steve says. "What next?"

Eddie shakes his head. "I honestly don't know. The wedding is canceled, for sure. For today at least."

"Just for today? You think she'll marry him still?"

Eddie shrugs. "I have no idea. I wouldn't but then I wouldn't have said yes in the first place."

Steve leans back, tapping his head against the van a few times before he turns back to Eddie. "You know the worst part? This was my last delivery. Now, I have to deal with this stupid cake. Three tiers of lemon and raspberry." He laughs. "Do you think a homeless shelter will take a wedding cake?"

Eddie grins. "I don't see why not. At least something good will come out of today."

Steve looks up towards the hall. "I feel like I should say something-- to Diana, I mean. She was always really nice to me, she deserved better than this."

"I have found that good or bad people rarely get what they deserve. You don't really owe her anything but I can't fault the impulse." Turning towards the hall, Eddie gestures for Steve to follow him. "Just-- just don't apologize for him? Okay?"

Steve walks in silence for a few steps before he coughs roughly. His voice is thick and choked and he coughs again. "I, uh, I stopped apologizing for him a long time ago. His faults are his own. I just wish I didn't get dragged into it."

Eddie laughs. "I know that song."

"Yeah," Steve asks.

Eddie nods. They are at the door and he pulls it open for the other man, gesturing him in with a bow.

Steve stops in the doorway as Eddie stands up again. He is framed by the light inside and the scent of hothouse roses comes drifting out into the open air. Eddie can picture him suddenly in that moment standing at a balcony limned by moonlight.

"Hey Sunshine," Eddie says softly. "Buy me a drink and we can trade stories?"

Steve smiles. "Yeah," he says, with a small laugh. "Sure, why not." He holds up his hands, still dirty and scraped from the asphalt. "Help me get cleaned up and let me say something to Diana. Then we can talk."

Eddie nods, reaches out, and places his hands gently over Steve's. "Sounds good to me."

#fanfiction #fanfic #littlechivalry #my writing #steve harrington #steddie #eddie munson #stranger things #meet ugly #baker steve #wedding singer eddie

129 notes · View notes

flowersforbucky · 20 hours ago

Text

okay i have been soooo behind on my to be read fics lately and i'm so sorry 😭 i'm so glad to finally read this. it was incredibly beautiful and unique. i really enjoy your portrayal of how bucky would be in the earliest days of his recovery. i feel like i see so many fics (and don't get me wrong, those fics are great too) where he's portrayed as bucky with hints to his trauma here and there, but very rarely do i see a portrayal like this, where he's still very much in the mindset of soldat with hints of bucky sprinkled in.

more under the cut!

"There's absolutely no way that he's staying here. Have you completely lost your mind? What if he suddenly snaps or loses control and goes completely berserk, hm? What if one night those sleeper triggers buried in his brain suddenly activate and he systematically takes us out one by one in our sleep?" Tony added emphatically, his hands gesturing wildly in the air as he attempted to visualize the gruesome scenarios playing out in his mind.

i actually love tony as a character so much lol i feel like you wrote his dialogue spot on

"Come inside with me, I'll take care of you." You offered quietly, your voice gentle and reassuring as you extended your hand towards him. Your body language remained open and non-threatening, shoulders relaxed and posture deliberately casual to help put him at ease and to show him you felt no fear.

i love how reader is gentle but still direct with him because i think that's what he would need in this case. he's so used to being told what to do, i can imagine that it's more natural for him to obey a command, but the gentleness she possesses is what he deserves after never being shown that with any handler.

i love how much thought you put into what his habits would be post winter soldier. i have no doubt that you're right - i'm sure he got very little time, if any, for self care. it would definitely take him a lot of time to realize that it's okay to take longer showers and take extra time with caring for yourself.

tomato soup and grilled cheese is always a good choice <3

Gradually, the rigid tension that had defined his existence began to melt away, and he started allowing more intimate gestures of care. He let you gently brush his unruly hair into place, carefully wash his face with warm water, or trim his growing stubble for him.

ahhhh the kind of care he deserves. these are the kind of things that make me think bucky's love language would be acts of service 💕

"Мне не нравится делиться вашим вниманием. [I don't like sharing your attention]," he muttered with an undertone of possession, his lips curling into a slight frown as he gradually leaned closer to you. His silken hair delicately tickled your face as he slowly lowered himself, the tips of your noses barely grazing against each other in an intimate gesture. His lips parted ever so slightly, revealing a glimpse of anticipation before he dipped his head down, warm lips pressing a tender, lingering kiss to your jawline.

AHHHH the possessiveness!!! god!!! please!!! maybe i am a tiny tiny bit fucked in the head but the thought of him being possessive over me in any state makes me so 🫠🤭🙃

The soldier was absolutely transfixed at the sight of your breasts, eyeing the soft mounds and peaked nipples as they hardened in the cool air, growing increasingly sensitive and rosy with your mounting arousal. It was like he was completely mesmerized by the sight before him, the fucking Winter Soldier, the most dangerous assassin in history, stopped dead in his tracks at the mere sight of your bare breasts.

maybe i am just delulu but i really do believe my tits could have that effect on him so thank you so much for putting my delusion into perfect words and indulging me <3

"Моя сейчас. [Mine now]," he muttered softly, his warm breath ghosting across your skin as his lips hovered mere millimeters from your own.

YES I AM YOURS YOU CAN SAY THAT AGAIN!!!

ugh you never fail to amaze me with the love and care that you put into this character.

Sugar Plums. | W.S

summary: The soldier has an attachment to you.

a/n: This came to me randomly but thought it was cute and somewhat spicy. I added some fluff to balance it all out and tried to keep the sexy scenes sweet too. I see so many fics of him being super aggressive in bed and those are great, but for me I think he'd be a little more like this. Takes place after the events of CA:TWS. Contains roughly translated Russian, native speakers can correct me if anything was translated wrong. Ty. ;; wc: 5.5k

It was so awkward.

Everyone sat frozen in place, their eyes locked on the imposing figure of the Winter Soldier as he towered behind you, his piercing blue eyes methodically scanning the room and studying each occupant with an intensity that made them shift uncomfortably in their seats.

"Absolutely not!" Tony was the first to break the suffocating silence, his voice sharp and decisive as he beat Steve to speaking by a mere second. There was absolutely no way he would even consider allowing the fist of HYDRA to take up residence in his tower, treating him like he was nothing more than some lost stray that needed sheltering. "He's not staying here, no way in hell - this isn't a halfway house for reformed assassins."

"Tony, come on. HYDRA is gone, their control over him is broken," you reasoned desperately, your voice taking on a pleading tone as you gestured toward the silent figure behind you, "He's been surviving on his own for weeks, barely getting by. Just look at him...he's exhausted, malnourished, and clearly needs somewhere safe to stay and recover."

"Uh, how about no?" Tony fired back, staring at you like you had grown a second head...or like you had a towering sleeper soldier looming behind you.

Tony wasn't your favorite person in the world, but he was usually somewhat reasonable.

"Your state-of-the-art security cameras can't give us a heads up before that happens?" You asked with dry sarcasm, your tone deliberately flat and unimpressed, clearly making a joke while you tried to find some kind of middle ground that would get the agitated, self-proclaimed playboy to calm down and think rationally.

"No chance in hell, sweet cheeks," he folded his arms and glared at you with sternness that etched across his features. "Too dangerous."

"He's staying, whether you like it or not," you replied in the same unwavering tone, standing your ground with resolute conviction. "He's hurt, weak, completely vulnerable. There's absolutely nothing he could possibly do in this state. He needs somewhere warm and safe to stay, especially since he's been struggling to survive out on the streets for weeks now. Besides, winter is coming fast and there’s no way he won’t get hypothermia or something." You added with concern, knowing full well that while the soldier hadn't been entirely helpless during his ordeal, he certainly hadn't managed to secure any kind of stable shelter.

His temporary refuges consisted only of cold spaces beneath bridges, dark corners tucked away in forgotten alleys, or the remains of abandoned buildings - not a single place where he could truly let his guard down or feel protected from the harsh elements. With winter's rapid approach and already light dustings of snow, the temperatures would only get more brutal as the nights went on.

You continued to argue with Tony, Steve butting in every so often, luckily siding with you, desperate to have his old friend somewhere safe. It was a long, frustrating argument that lasted much longer than need be.

Earlier that day, while you had been making your way down the frost-covered street of New York's downtown district, his eyes had caught sight of your familiar form. Something deep within him told him to follow you, a magnetic pull that he couldn't explain. He obeyed the instinct, trailing silently behind you all the way back to the tower. When you finally became aware of his presence, he was thoroughly drenched from the steadily falling snow, his cheeks and nose having turned a bright, rosy color from the biting cold as he tried to suppress his constant shivering.

The moment you made your sudden turn to approach him, he visibly startled, immediately taking a defensive step backward as his mind raced through all the possible scenarios and potential threats. His eyes darted across your face with obvious wariness as you fully turned to face him, his entire body subtly shifting its weight from foot to foot, muscles tensed and ready to bolt away.

"It's okay...you look cold..." You spoke softly, your voice barely above a whisper, trying not to startle him as you took in his disheveled appearance. The soldier, the one whose face had practically been plastered across every news channel, the same one Steve had spoken about with such raw emotion in his voice.

You remembered how Steve had mourned his best friend, utterly confused and devastated about why he had saved from the river, while Bucky fell to what should have been his death. Steve held onto that grief, that guilt, like a lifeline. He held onto it so desperately, clinging to the faintest hope that a sliver of Bucky was still somewhere deep inside the persona of the Winter Soldier.

Looking at him now, you couldn't see any trace of the man from Steve's stories - the soldier's eyes were too wild and wide, filled with fear and confusion.

But despite everything you'd heard, despite the destruction you'd witnessed on the news, despite the intense warnings from everyone in the tower, there was something about his presence that didn't trigger your fight or flight response.

He didn't make you feel unsafe.

He looked absolutely beat down, exhausted to his very core, his shoulders slumped in a way that made you wonder when he'd last had a moment's rest. You weren't even sure he could take you down if he tried in this state, though you knew his reputation suggested otherwise. He was shaking from the cold air as it blew in a stinging breeze, his metal arm gleaming dully in what little light remained, while the incoming winter storm brought with it a thick haze and countless tiny pinpricks of needle-like snowflakes that seemed to cut through the air.

After a few silent moments where his piercing blue eyes studied you through the thick haze, he finally shifted his weight forward and took a step in your direction.

The water in the shower had set a steady steam in the bathroom, the mirror had fogged and the tiles sweat below your bare feet.

You could hear the gentle splashing of water against the bathtub as he cleaned himself. The mechanical whirring of his metal arm caught your attention, hopefully that thing was waterproof, but it must be, right?

After setting out a fresh towel and clean clothes for his use, you quietly excused yourself to provide him with privacy. The state of his current attire was awful, every piece was thoroughly saturated and carried an unmistakable stench that made you wrinkle your nose. The clothes were in such poor condition that you couldn't help but wonder if they had been scavenged from someone who no longer needed them.

You wouldn’t put it past the soldier to steal from a cadaver.

His shower routine was notably brief, years of conditioning taught him to minimize the time spent on his personal care. Upon finishing, he emerged from behind the curtain and efficiently dried himself with the provided towel. His gaze fell upon the fresh clothes you had thoughtfully placed by the sink, while his previous garments had been discreetly removed.

The soldier hesitated momentarily before donning the clean outfit. It wasn’t anything fancy, a pair of grey sweatpants emblazoned with the Avenger's logo along the side and a simple yet comfortable black tank top. When he finally emerged from the bathroom to face you, his body language betrayed his uncertainty as he stood there, not sure what to do now. Comfort was completely foreign to him, and care was a dream away.

"Tony finally gave in," you replied softly, your voice sounded in the quiet stillness of the bedroom. "He said you could stay here with us."

He remained motionless, his expression blank and unreadable as he stood there, offering neither response nor the slightest hint of acknowledgement to your words. You weren’t sure what to expect but that seemed pretty in character for him at the moment.

"You'll be staying in my quarters since no one else is comfortable having you in their space just yet...but don't worry too much about that," you reassured gently, though you could tell from his demeanor that others' opinions held little weight in his mind. "They'll come around after some time, I'm sure of it."

His gaze fixed upon you then, his brow creasing ever so slightly with an unspoken question as he began to move. Each step was deliberate and measured as he crossed the room, closing the distance between you until he stood directly in front of you, close enough that you could see the water droplets from his freshly washed hair beading at the ends and falling onto the fabric of your top, leaving dark spots where they landed.

"Everything's going to be fine," you said with gentle reassurance, trying to ease the tension in the air. "Why don't we head to the kitchen and get you something to eat? You must be hungry." You offered, hoping to bring some normalcy to the situation.

The soldier shadowed your every movement, following closely behind like a faithful companion who refused to stray from their master's side.

Upon entering the expansive kitchen, you immediately made your way to the industrial-sized refrigerator, searching through its contents for something suitable to offer him. The kitchen was perpetually stocked to the brim with an array of foods, snacks, and ingredients, practically anything one could imagine or desire. It was like having a private, fully-stocked grocery store.

Though with a the ravenous super soldier with enhanced metabolism, the mighty Asgardian god whose appetite matched his status, and Banner's surprisingly hulk-ish consumption…the team still depleted their food with an efficiency that would put a pack of famished wolves to shame.

"Hm...what should you have...do you want anything specific?" You turned over your shoulder to address him, but he maintained his characteristic silence. Unmoving, and completely stoic, like a statue carved from marble.

"Нет [No]," came his quiet response, the Russian word rolling off his tongue deeply. He remained perfectly still, observing with careful attention as you continued your search through the refrigerator's contents, trying to determine what would be most appropriate for him to eat. Your mind was working quickly, knowing you wanted to avoid anything too time-consuming to prepare. You wanted to get some food into him sooner rather than later.

"How about...I could make some soup real quick? Tomato and grilled cheese might be a safe option for you. Shouldn't upset your stomach too much if you haven’t been eating a lot, and it will warm you up if you're still feeling cold." You turned back toward him once more, studying his features carefully for any hint of reaction or preference to your suggestion, any subtle change in his expression.

But, he didn't provide even the slightest indication of his feelings.

You decided on tomato soup and a grilled cheese anyway, you figured it was best and immediately set to work in the kitchen.

Although you typically prided yourself on preparing meals completely from scratch, this particular circumstance called for something different. You assembled the sandwich, buttering the bread before placing it in a heated pan to get a golden-brown crust while keeping a watchful eye on the pot of soup simmering beside it, occasionally stirring for even heating.

Once everything reached the perfect temperature and consistency, you transferred the meal onto clean dishes, relieved it didn’t take too long. You presented him with the steaming bowl of soup and perfectly grilled sandwich, watching as the soldier deliberately took his place at the counter, his eyes fixed intently on the rising steam from the bowl before him.

You watched him, noting how his entire body remained unnaturally rigid and motionless, as though every muscle was locked in place and braced for something. His lips bore a slight sheen of moisture, like he had licked them at some point when you weren't watching. Yet despite his obvious hunger, he hadn't made even the slightest attempt to reach for the food. His eyes held intense longing and hesitation, briefly meeting yours before quickly darting away, as if making eye contact was somehow forbidden.

"What's wrong?" You asked with growing concern etched across your features, "You're hungry aren't you? I can tell you haven't eaten in a while. Especially not anything warm, at least. I know it can be hard out there, all by yourself…"

His response came in the form of an almost imperceptible nod, his gaze remaining firmly fixed on the bowl and sandwich before him, as though they were the most important and most dangerous objects in the room.

"So why aren't you eating? The food's getting cold, it won’t be as good if it cools too much."

"Я не могу совершить действие без приказа. [I cannot perform an action without an order]," the soldier responded in barely more than a whisper, his voice carrying the weight of years of conditioning.

You stood there, completely lost in the language barrier between you. Your limited knowledge of Russian extended only to the most basic words - 'да' and 'нет' - leaving you clueless by his response and worried about the implications of his behavior.

You didn't want to wake Natasha, even though she would certainly understand what he was saying in Russian, but disturbing her sleep for something as simple as a quick translation seemed unnecessary and might put her in a bad mood. Instead, an idea popped into your head that would avoid an angry widow. You reached for your phone and placed it on the smooth counter surface, navigating to a translator app before looking up at him again. "Can you repeat that?"

The soldier's eyes flickered briefly to the phone screen, taking in the sight of the translation app with what seemed like recognition, before his gaze deliberately returned to the untouched food laid out before him. "I cannot perform an action without an order," he stated in perfect, albeit mechanical English this time.

You blinked in surprise, thoroughly caught off guard by the sudden switch to English when he had been persistently speaking Russian up until this point. "Okay...well...eat then, you can eat freely here, you don't need an order to do that." You slowly tucked your phone away into your pocket as his right hand gradually lifted from where it had been resting in his lap, reaching out to pick up the sandwich.

You weren't sure what you were expecting, but he wolfed down his food within a minute, that sandwich was gone within maybe three bites. The soup swallowed just as fast.

God, he was starving, and the realization made your heart ache.

"Better?" You asked gently, to which he only nodded, swallowing the last of the food in his mouth.

This became routine, the soldier stuck by your side like a duckling imprinting on its mother.

He followed you diligently around every corner of the tower, his protective instincts activated as he positioned himself like an ever-vigilant guardian. His eyes constantly scanned the surroundings, noting how others would cast uncertain and sometimes suspicious glances in his direction.

These looks made him increasingly self-conscious and anxious, as though he were some exotic creature put on display at a zoo for others to gawk at. But in your presence, he seemed a bit more at ease. He genuinely liked being around you.

He accepted these tender ministrations without the slightest resistance or complaint, though a nagging worry lingered in your mind that his compliance stemmed from years of conditioning to submit to others' wishes. Each time you worried about that, you’d see a genuine warmth and contentment in his gaze rather than submission, showing you that he truly found comfort and pleasure in your gentle touch.

It was evening, the room reflected the warm glow of festive holiday lights emanating from a miniature Christmas tree nestled in the corner. The soldier found himself transfixed by the small decorated tree, his eyes lingering on each twinkling light as their vibrant colors danced and shimmered. The sterile, monotonous walls he had grown accustomed to during his confinement were nothing compared to the colorful lights. The gentle play of red, green, and gold seemed to awaken something long dormant within him, he almost wanted to plant himself in front of the tree and just stare at it.

Tony may have allowed his stay, but that didn’t mean there weren’t restrictions. He was stern about where and when the soldier could go anywhere with you, and he demanded that he not leave your room afterhours. It wasn’t hard to follow, the solider showed reluctance to leave your room at all, having been so accustomed to being kept in one room. You didn’t push him, but you felt bad for him because he was missing how the tower had been decorated for the holidays. So, you got a smaller tree for the bedroom to provide some kind of festive look for him to take in.

You emerged from the bathroom, wisps of steam following in your wake, your damp hair leaving little droplets on your shoulders as you continued to towel it dry with scrunches. He remained motionless on the edge of your bed, his attention immediately shifting as he turned and blinked up at your approaching figure.

His icy eyes traced a deliberate path across your form, which was barely concealed beneath the thin fabric of your sleep shirt, the hem teasingly brushing against your mid-thigh with each movement. "I am beat," you sighed heavily, your voice carrying the weight of the day's festivities. The marathon of holiday activities had clearly taken its toll, leaving you thoroughly drained. The tower often held an array of things to do because Tony loved to show off what he could afford, and it wasn’t like anyone else would object.

He observed with rapt attention as you made your way onto the bed and settled back against the pillows, releasing a deep exhale that seemed to melt away the day's tension. His unwavering gaze remained fixed on the rhythmic, hypnotic motion of your chest rising and falling with each breath.

You felt the bed shift beneath you as he moved, his weight causing the mattress to dip and creak softly. He crawled over to where you lay, his arms positioning themselves on either side of your body, caging you in. Your eyes fluttered open to find him hovering directly above you, his presence overwhelming in its proximity. This was something new…he had always maintained somewhat of a distance before, never daring to position himself so intimately over top of you.

"Я скомпрометирован. [I'm compromised]," the soldier spoke in a hushed tone, his voice carrying that distinctive gravelly pitch that made you feel tingly. The tension between you had become damned near impossible to ignore. What had started as a subtle pull had grown into an overwhelming force of attraction that seemed to draw you both together like magnets.

Still, you forced yourself to hold back, maintaining that last thread of restraint. You had no way of knowing the depth of his emotional capacity, if he was even capable of genuine feelings, or wanted to experience them at all after everything he endured.

"Soldat...?" The whispered word escaped your lips as you noticed the subtle shift in his demeanor, the way his muscles tensed as he remained suspended above you, perfectly still. "You know I don't understand-"

"I am compromised," he repeated, switching to English this time. His voice had dropped even lower, carrying an edge of frustration that vibrated through the minimal space between your bodies.

"Comprom..." You sat up slowly on your elbows and shook your head in confusion, your brow furrowed as you tried to process his words. That’s what you’d say about a machine or computer, not a man. "What are you talking about?" Your eyes wandered downward, suddenly drawn to an unmistakable tent in his fitted briefs that became obvious from your new viewing angle, causing you to freeze in place as your breath caught in your throat.

So, he could feel things.

"Oh..." You felt a wave of embarrassment wash over you as you remained frozen in place, your cheeks growing warm. "I think I understand now...you're feeling a bit pent up, aren't you?"

His metal arm whirred softly, the sophisticated machinery humming as he moved to adjust his hand placement. "Да. [Yes]," he responded in a low voice, his gleaming titanium fingertips delicately ghosted across the bare skin of your thigh, just barely grazing beneath the hem of your thin sleep shirt. Goosebumps erupted along your body in response to the contact, the cool metal sudden against your flushed skin.

You swallowed reflexively, your breath catching in your throat as you felt his warm, steady breath caress your sensitive skin, sending a visible shudder of growing excitement through your body.

He continued his gentle exploration, encouraged by your acceptance and the absence of any resistance. He pressed a trail of soft, purposeful kisses along the curve of your jaw, each one more intimate than the last, before gradually working his way down to your neck. His lips carefully followed the rhythmic flutter of your pulse beneath your skin, his tongue peeking out shyly to touch against you.

"Ah-" You voiced softly, feeling him settle on a particularly sensitive spot, right against the delicate side of your neck. It was nestled perfectly between the graceful junction where your neck connected to your collarbone, the skin there warm and inviting, holding a faint trace of blood flow from the intricate network of smaller veins positioned just beneath the surface.

He kissed many times with increasing intensity, clearly finding this spot ideal for his attentions. The soft, tentative pecks gradually became more passionate, open-mouthed kisses as each one was placed. His tongue began gently pressing against your skin with each lingering kiss, the pressure slowly growing in need. You felt your cheeks flush with warmth when he finally latched on, your eyes widening in surprise as the soldier's strong arms held you a little tighter.

Soldat began to suckle a mark, his ministrations gentle and teasing at first, but quickly growing in force and intensity as his skilled tongue swirled expertly around the trapped skin between his lips and teeth. The sensation drew a breathy moan from deep within you, making your entire body feel as though it were engulfed in flames of desire. Though you were completely helpless beneath the assassin, you had absolutely no intention or desire to push him away.

This felt too damned good.

Without thinking, your leg came up and hooked around his hips, drawing him closer until your bodies were flush against each other. The heat between you grew and you felt his painful erection trapped in his briefs, straining against the fabric as his arousal was staining them. Soldat exhaled sharply through his nose, his grip tightening possessively, but he did not let go.

His suckling grew increasingly intense, the sensitive skin tingling and starting to sting and burn with each passing moment. Still, he didn't release the bruised skin just yet.

Instead, he just bit down harder, ensuring the mark he left would last for days. You moaned loudly, your fingers gently tangling in his thick hair as your pleasured sounds encouraged his attention. He became more attentive when your little sounds of pleasure turned into sharp, quiet hisses - clearly indicating that the sensation had crossed from pleasure into discomfort, silently telling him to ease off.

When he did finally relent, he pulled back to admire his handiwork, looking down at the deep purple mark blooming on your neck. His breath came in heavy pants through his parted lips as he stayed quiet, watching intently as you struggled to catch your own breath too. The sight of you beneath him, disheveled and vulnerable, with flushed skin and labored breathing, was enough to draw him right back in.

He dipped back down with renewed hunger, his metal hand slowly threading through your hair before gently fisting it at the base of your skull, though his careful control ensured it wasn’t painful, just firm. He tugged just enough to guide your movement, encouraging you to expose more of your neck to his hungry gaze.

"E-easy..." You whispered, a note of anxious anticipation in your voice. You wanted more, god you wanted more, but his sudden change of behavior was a bit surprising for you.

"Понял. [Understood]," he whispered against your skin, pressing a soft kiss of reassurance to your jaw before returning his attention to your neck. Those soft kisses began again, trailing along your skin, but his restraint didn't last long as he quickly sought a new canvas for another mark. He latched onto a spot just a little bit higher on your neck, alternating between sucking and carefully controlled bites to gradually darken and bruise the sensitive flesh.

You felt bite after delicious bite, hickey after possessive hickey.

He marked the tender flesh of your neck in several deep, purple marks that bloomed like violent flowers across your skin...each one throbbing with a sweet ache when he pulled away. His tongue always swirled over the mark with care to soothe the sting of it, making you arch into his touch as you fell into a complete daze.

"S-Soldat," you muttered breathlessly, cheeks flushed crimson and eyelids heavy with desire. Your pupils matched his own - completely blown with hunger and desperate need. Those bermuda swirls meeting yours as he continued a torturously slow trail of hot kisses down your chest, nipping your collarbone with just enough pressure to make you gasp before following the gentle dip of your sternum.

He paused deliberately, pulling up so he could lift the thin sleep shirt over you and expose more of your bare chest to his hungry gaze, giving him better access for his heated kisses and teasing nips. Once your top was discarded somewhere on the floor, his hands gently but firmly held your sides, trailing up with reverent touches until settling against your ribcage. His larger hands completely encompassed your torso, making you feel small but protected.

You felt in charge now.

"What is it? Do you like them?" you purred softly to the soldier, your body swaying in a deliberately teasing motion that made them gently move. His eyes remained fixed, drinking in the sight before him as his lips parted ever so slightly. Slowly, his head tilted down again, surrendering to the moment. He let his face nestle against your chest, his lips trailing a constellation of unhurried kisses across your skin.

He began to nip and suckle the tender skin of your breasts, his mouth working to create deep, purple love bites on that delicate flesh. The bruising blossomed easily beneath his ministrations, almost like they were eager to show themselves.

His lips would find a promising spot, then he would begin lapping at the skin with gentle strokes of his tongue until he felt you squirming. The soldier took the sensitized flesh carefully between his teeth, rolling the captured skin while his talented muscle swirled and sucked.

Your chest displayed his passionate handiwork when he finally drew back to admire his creation. The plum-colored bruises created an intimate pattern across your skin, their rich hues made even more striking by the soft glow of the holiday lights that danced through the room, highlighting each carefully placed love bite until they seemed to shimmer like twilight stars against your flesh.

"Soldat...I think you covered enough surface area," you breathed, feeling overwhelmed by the intense throbbing that radiated from each mark he'd left. The sensation pulsed in waves across your skin, making it difficult to focus. Your neck was thoroughly covered in the passionate marks, and now your chest bore an equally impressive collection.

The soldier gazed down at you with intensely, his eyes taking in each little sugar plum bruise that decorated your skin like a masterpiece. Though they were scattered without any deliberate pattern, the overall effect clearly pleased him. You lay there looking thoroughly affected by his attention, hair mussed and breathing uneven, cheeks beautifully darkened with a dust of blush, just from his careful application of bites alone. The sight of you in such a state, marked so thoroughly, brought deep set satisfaction in his gut.

"Моя сейчас. [Mine now]," he muttered softly, his warm breath ghosting across your skin as his lips hovered mere millimeters from your own. The almost-kiss was delicate, just the faintest brush of contact that sent electricity dancing through your nerves. He almost seemed nervous to close that final distance, his confidence faltering despite the passionate trail of marks he had already left scattered across your skin.

He drew back slightly, seemingly snapping out of a trance, and you could see the vulnerability written plainly across his features as that nervousness flickered in his eyes. Shifting his weight, he settled back onto the bed, his right hand finding your knee and tracing gentle, soothing circles there with his thumb. The tender gesture matched his hushed voice as he spoke, "Я не хочу идти дальше. [I don't want to go any further]," the words carrying both certainty and a hint of apology.

Your brow furrowed deeply as you struggled to understand what he was trying to stay, the confusion evident in the slight crease between your eyebrows and the questioning tilt of your head. You really needed to study Russian. "Do you not want to continue?" you asked slowly and carefully, focusing more on interpreting the subtle nuances in his tone rather than trying to parse the exact words he was using.

His facial expression held hesitance and uncertainty, the slight downturn of his lips and the way his eyes wouldn't quite meet yours telling you what you needed to know. Body language was his primary mode of genuine communication, and you had become very good at reading these silent signals he unconsciously broadcast.

"It's okay, we can stop," you replied with a reassuring tone, making sure to keep your voice soft to help dissipate any lingering tension he might be feeling. "Let's just lay here, okay? We can cuddle without any kind of pressure to do anything else, if you want." You offered with a warm smile, wanting him to feel that his comfort and boundaries were completely respected and that there was no expectation or obligation to continue.

This was a lot of good progress with him, you typically just cuddled or he kept to his side of the bed but he had shown you a lot of sweet affection tonight, and you loved it, it meant he was growing more confident in himself and your relationship. The evidence of his passionate yet tender attention remained visible in the form of gentle, plum-colored marks that decorated your neck and chest as you lay beside him, watching as his silent form trembled slightly beneath the heavy warmth of the thick blankets that enveloped you both.

You opened your arms, offering him a warmer space, and he quickly scooted forward, tucking himself against you. Prone to being cold, he liked being under many layers of blankets, so you made sure to provide plenty for him to not only feel warm but secure. Plus...having you to hold him always helped.

Without the worry of being a soldier, he could rest easy like this.

Thanks for reading. -em 🌿

Dividers by @/strangergraphics | Images found on Pinterest.

#bucky barnes x reader #fic rec

2K notes · View notes

darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 9 hours ago

Text

Seeing Stars 2

Warnings: non/dubcon and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: Steve Rogers, Bucky Barnes

Summary: You struggle to be star struck by the world's most famous super soldiers. (grumpy!short!reader)

Note: Guess this is happening.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

Your image in print makes you cringe again. If you keep doing that, you're going to form a few new wrinkles. It's hard to describe the expression on your face; somewhere between a gape and a grimace. Bonita doesn't seem to notice as she waves the signed photo in glee.

"Oh my god! Mo is going to hella jealous," she chimes.

You grumble. Another pair of thunder gods barge by and you stop short to keep from getting bonked by a foam hammer.

"They couldn't crop me out?" You wonder.

"Heyyyyy, no way. Then it'd only be me and cap," she whines. "You look fine."

She isn't looking at you. She's too obsessed with herself, perched perfectly in Steve Rogers' arms. You glower at your likeness and roll your eyes.

You shrug as if trying to wriggle free of the touch no longer there. It's there in the picture, that unwelcome embrace. It just happened so fast. You don't touch. You don't hug. Bonita gets on for her birthday and one for Christmas and outside of that, you have your bubble.

"My feet are killing me," you drone.

"You're not tapping our already, are you?" She chirps.

"No, but I could use a coffee. Maybe sit for a few."

"I don't want to miss the costume competition," she hums. "How about you come find me?"

"That works."

You'll agree to anything if it gets you a break from all this. You feel your battery flickering. You're at 12% socially and recharging will take days, if not weeks.

"I'll text if I get lost," you assure her.

You part and go in search of one of the vending machines you passed a few minutes ago. You're not outwardly sardonic, or you try not to be. When people describe you as deadpan, you're often surprised they pick up on that. You say as little as you can but some people take silence negatively.

You tap your card for the overpriced instant cappucino. The machine churns noisily and a cup drops down onto the tray. The brown espresso mix spits from the nozzle. Its aromatic even if you expect a watered down flavour.

You take the cup and blow over it. You keep away from the hordes of fandom devout. You wind along the wall and find a quiet hallway. You lean by the emergency exit and sip your coffee.

You close your eyes and sigh, tilting your head back as you let the coolness of the wall soothe you. You inhale as the thrum of the crowd drifts in. You don't want to go back.

There's some scuffing at the end of the hall. Your head snaps up and you stand straight, expecting a staff member to chase you out. Worse. It's one of them.

"Oh hey," the blond slows as he comes down the hall, stopping midway. "Um... didn't expect anyone back here."

You stare at Steve Rogers and take another drink, "just on my way out." You glance at the door to your left; 'Employees Only'. The placard beneath denotes a restroom. Makes sense, he can't piss with the peons.

"You got a photo," he says as you edge down the hall, keeping near the wall as you try not to get close.

"My friend did, yeah."

"Wait? You didn't get a copy? I can pull a few strings."

"No thanks," you stop a foot away from him, realising he's too big to squeeze by.

"You alright?" He asks, sounding genuinely concerned. Your forehead furrows but you stop the frown from reaching your lips, "I'm fine."

"These things give me a headache too," he says.

How presumptuous. Even if your head is feeling a bit dull.

"VIP is pretty nice. There's a lounge. I could get you and your friend some passes. Hear they got real coffee too," he gestures to your cup. "I don't know for sure, I don't get to enjoy it much."

"That's... too nice," you insist. "Excuse me, I gotta find my friend."

You motion past him but he only moves an inch, "need help?"

You look at him and shake your head, "I'll find her." You waggle your phone at him and turn, sidling by slowly. At last your free but at the cost of a few drops of coffee as it sloshes in your cup. It's bland. You toss it at the first bin. What a waste.

You find Bonita near the contest banner. She looks unimpressed as she pouts and crosses her arms. You near as a yawn threatens to break free.

"What's up?" You ask.

"Didn't qualify for the contest," she mopes. "So, guess I'll watch."

"Hm, there's a prize?"

"Just a gift card but still," she says.

"Ah, too bad."

"Well..." she looks around, "how about the raffle? The grand prize is a your of the Avengers compound or something."

You try not to show your disinterest. She better not invite you to that too. Ha, it's a long shot anyway. You'll humour her for a bit longer.

"Sure, why not."

You follow her over to the table. The staff at the table fill out the ballots for you using your ticket numbers. You give your information mindlessly, figuring there's enough people there that you'll forget you even bothered.

"That's so awesome," Bonita trills. "Can you imagine?"

You would hate it. You know. You like a museum tour or even a solitary stroll through the library but some good will act for good PR? You'll pass.

"I hope you win," you say to Bonita.

"Me too. I have so many questions!" She begins to ramble as you only half-listen.

As you walk along the booths, your eyes wander through the milling bodies. You squint as a head of golden hair bobs at the far end of the room and pauses. Even on your toes, you can't see enough to confirm your suspicions. What does it matter anyway? Good luck to the Cap finding his way back through these fanatics. You don't envy his lot, you hardly covet your own.

#steve rogers #bucky barnes #dark steve rogers #dark!bucky barnes #dark bucky barnes #dark!steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #bucky barnes x reader #series #drabble #seeing stars #marvel #mcu #captain america #winter soldier #avengers

91 notes · View notes

torturedtypewritersdept · 1 day ago

Text

the proposition of a lifetime - b.b.

✯ pairing:

best friend!bucky x fem!reader

✯ summary:

you're not very experienced with sex, your skill are minimal at best and you know your boyfriend wants to do more. so what's a girl to do? go to her best friend for training, of course.

✯ warnings:

mature themes, mentions of sexual tension, detailed descriptions of a blow job in a car, etc.

✯ a/n:

nothing!! please don't engage if you have a hard time with any of these topics <3 this was origianlly posted on my old blog @/illicitfixations, @/lovelornanonymity and i have rewritten + reshared it here :) this was written way back in early 2023 i believe!

Bucky heard the faintest of knocks against his mahogany office door and as he glanced at the clock, he realized his sweet girl was just on time. Every Thursday at precisely three pm, you came to see him and the two of you had dinner together. It was a constant in the busy and the unknown and there was no better person to help you with your problem than your best friend, right?

“Hey, pretty girl. How was your day?”

He stood from the black leather beneath him and rolled the chair away from the desk with the backs of his knees. He was dressed in black slacks and a white button down shirt. His day had been long, you could tell by the pale blue tie that was once around his neck laying draped across the back of his chair. He smiled at you and brought his arms open, gesturing for you to place yourself in between them – a proper greeting.

"It was okay. Listen – I was kinda hoping you could help me with something.” you replied as Bucky ran his hands up and down your back.

The hair on the back of his neck stood up, his mind immediately wondered if you were in trouble, his senses always heightened at the thought of danger, especially when it came to you. He pursed his lips for a moment before he traced your features with his eyes – you seemed upset, sad even; or was it embarrassment that coated your cheeks with heat? He couldn’t put his finger on it.

"Tell me how your day was – for real.” He replied, keeping his tone neutral. "Then, I'll offer up my services, sweetheart.”

You chuckled and rolled your eyes as he gave you that classic James Barnes smile – it was kind and coated with sexual appeal and it fit in with the creases of his eyes like a puzzle piece.

“Okay – fine. My day was fine, Buck, nothing special about it. I’m just feeling insecure, I guess.”

You averted his eyes, knowing he was going to give you some lecture about how perfect you are or try to kill whoever had made you feel that way.

“What’s making you feel insecure, doll? Or, is it someone in particular? You know whoever it is, I'll kill them – just say the word.”

His expression was stone cold, the same one you had seen him wear only in the face of the world’s most dangerous mobsters and criminals – just before he killed them.

“You can’t kill my boyfriend, Buck.”

Your tone was flat.

“Brad? Or whatever his name is? Of course, I can.”

He snorted out, laughing as if he actually took your little comment seriously.

“Doll, what’s going on? What did he do?”

You threw your head back and your hands flew at your face, wiping down it roughly.

“He hasn’t done anything, Buck. It’s me – the problem is me.”

“Come on, doll – talk to me.”

Bucky urged.

"It's sorta... embarrassing."

You replied, shyly, rubbing at your hands until they were white.

"It’s just me – just Bucky, baby. You can talk to me.”

He responded, grabbing your hands in his.

“I mean, I've already talked to some of my friends about it, but they can't help me the way I want."

"Okay.” He said, wondering what kind of help she could need, ignoring his more perverted thoughts and his brain switching into protective mode, again wondering if she was in some sort of trouble.

"Thank you, Bucky.” You beamed, bouncing again.

This time, it was all he could do not to stare openly at the motion of your unrestrained boobs; gawking at your nipples that you hadn’t bothered to cover up underneath your shirt.

“It's my boyfriend, Brad. He's... he wants... well, what every guy wants. I'm not sure I'm ready, but I don't want him to dump me."

Bucky forced words out of his dry mouth, doing his best to ignore his growing arousal. "If you're not ready for something, don't do it."

"Yeah, I know. But I think I might be ready for, um, other things."

He only nodded in response in an attempt to hide as he was about to choke on his words. The girl he had been in love with for so long was actually talking about sex with him?

"If your girlfriend wasn't ready for, you know... sex... what would have been enough for you not to look elsewhere?"

You almost whispered the word "sex," and your face took on a pink cast at the same time. Your apparent embarrassment, as well as a wave of protective feelings, aided Bucky in repressing what he knew to be inappropriate lust for his friend. He pondered how to answer her question.

"If he's pressuring you, he's not worth keeping, sweetheart.” He said, giving in to his protective impulses.

"You sound like my mom.” You pouted, arms crossed under your breasts. "What do you think as a guy?"

‘I dont blame him – i’ve wanted to fuck you for so long, doll.’ He thought, but he pushed it aside, attempting to craft an honest, but also responsible answer.

"As much as I could get, I guess.” He said, wishing he had come up with something else. "But I would be pushing you – or, whoever I was with."

He quickly caught himself at the end of his sentence in an attempt to smooth things over enough where you wouldn’t notice what he had just said.

"Did you ever get a blowie from a girl?"

It took Bucky a moment to understand what you meant, as he had never heard anyone refer to a blowjob like that before. Several more seconds passed before he could formulate a response.

"There was a girl I dated who... we explored each other in, um, several ways."

He all but stuttered as he tried to speak, but he could feel his semi-erect penis as he tried to formulate a coherent thought.

"But she went down on you, right?"

You questioned.

"Yes, she did. But she wanted to, um, explore. I would never have pressured her to do it." As the words left his mouth, he cringed at the truth they hid. He had not directly coerced the girl in question, but he knew she had felt pressure anyway.

"And it was enough?"

You asked him point blank.

"It was more than enough.” He grinned. "But if she had not wanted to..."

He trailed off.

"I don't know how to, um, give a blowie.” You spoke, suddenly shy and your eyes locked on the floor. "I want to... I mean, I want to make him happy and all, but... what if I'm not good at it?"

You looked at him doe-eyed and full of anxiety and he almost busted right there – just looking at you.

"I'm not sure we should be having this conversation.” Bucky replied, immediately regretting the words as they hit your skin and hurt filled your irises.

"But I need your help. All my friends, at least the ones who've done it, say guys will like it no matter what. Some of them gave me pointers, and I've watched videos on the internet too, but... I think I need to practice first."

Your fingers stroked his forearm. Shining eyes met his, and he saw a plea in them. But his mind could not accept what his body, especially his cock, already had.

"I've heard some girls use cucumbers.” Bucky said.

"I've done that.” You said, "But cucumbers can't tell me whether I'm doing a good job or teach me to do it better. I need a man for that. A man who I know is a good teacher. I need you."

Bucky’s eyes almost popped out of his head at your response. He never in a million years thought that he’d see this day or that it would play out like this – you practically begging him to teach you how to suck a dick – his dick.

"Y/N, I can't... we can't..."

His objection was half-assed.

"Please, Buck. I need your help."

You begged again.

"Okay. But no one can know." His erection throbbed in his jeans at his words, and his heart hammered. Deep down in his mind, his conscience attempted to object, but he ignored it.

"It'll be our secret, Bucky," You squealed, before hugging him, your firm breasts pressing against his lower torso, your lower abdomen against his rigid cock. He hugged you back, stroking your soft hair, not thinking about any possible consequences.

"We can go to my house.” He suggested, breaking the hug. "Maybe use pillows from the couch for you to kneel on.”

"Can we do it in your car? Brad has one, and that's probably where I'd do it with him."

Bucky hesitated, watching you chew your bottom lip as you waited for his answer. What you proposed made sense, but he suspected it would be easier for you to learn, as well as more pleasurable for him, if they were both comfortable. However, now that he was committed, he did not want to mess up the chance to be the first guy his sweet girl went down on.

"Sure.” He said. "It'll be a bit more awkward, but it will prepare you for later."

"Thanks," You beamed, giving him a kiss on the cheek before running around to the passenger side of the car. He watched your ass and wondered if Brad knew how lucky he was. Bucky didn’t have to wonder – he knew.

Your cheeks were pink again as you sat on the bench seat and stared straight ahead, hands in your lap. For a moment, his guilt returned. Had you not pushed out your chest at that exact same time, Bucky might have backed out. But the sight of those firm, round tits encased by only your thin t-shirt proved to be too much. He buried his doubts and slid into the car.

"If we're parking, we need some music.” He told you, turning the key to accessory so the radio would come on. "Is classic rock okay?"

"I guess," you shrugged, still looking out the windshield rather than at him. That allowed him to watch your boobs bounce with the shrug.

He turned up the radio, took your hand as gently as he could, and moved it to the bulge in his dress pants. Your fingers lay there for a second or two before you moved them away.

"I'm not... um... can we make out first?"

You questioned awkwardly.

"If you aren't sure about this..."

He started, but you interrupted reassuring him.

"I'm sure, Buck," you said, interrupting and turning your eyes to him. "I just think I need to, uh... work up to it, you know?"

"Sure, doll," Bucky replied, running a finger down her cheek.

He leaned close to you, smelling the scent of vanilla as he did, pausing for a moment to breathe you in. You moved your head back and blinked. He sat back up and patted the seat beside him. You chewed her bottom lip, then scooted next to him. He stroked your soft cheek again. You sighed and did the same to him. Your eyes never left each other's as he lowered his lips to yours. Any trepidation you might have been experiencing seemed to vanish the moment your lips met. You grasped the back of his head and pulled his mouth tighter to yours. His tongue pushed between your lips, only to meet yours. He grabbed your waist, pulling you around to face him. Your free hand traced up his forearm and his free hand clutched one of your boobs. He marveled at the combination of softness and firmness. You moaned into his mouth when he found your nipple and lightly rolled it between his thumb and forefinger. He switched to your other boob and did the same thing. You moaned louder, which encouraged Bucky. Breaking their kiss, he grabbed the bottom of your shirt and started to lift it. He pulled the t-shirt over your head and up-stretched arms, mesmerized by your tits. They projected from your slender chest almost torpedo style, the tips capped with small, pink areolas and slightly darker nipples. Each more than a handful, he nonetheless did his best to grasp all of them as he dropped his mouth to one. Your fingers laced through his hair. You started to pull his face away, but reversed your effort as soon as he sucked your firm nipple between his lips and tongued it.

"Oh God, that feels good.” You groaned, pushing your chest out toward him.

While he feasted on your magnificent breasts, he pulled your hand from his arm and into his lap. You hesitated, then your fingers closed around the length of his erection where it strained against the fabric of his pants.

"Your... thingy is very hard.” You whispered, your fingers tracing its outline.

"If you're going to suck it, you can say 'dick' or 'cock'," He told you, sitting up to look you in the eye.

"Your cock is very hard," you said, blushing. Still, your words were louder and more confident, and Bucky decided it was time to move their lesson forward.

"Take it out," He instructed, leaning his shoulders back against the seat.

Thin, soft fingers fumbled at the top button of his fly. Once you had it loose, you tugged, probably thinking that there would be a zipper. In what was probably less time than it seemed, you had his pants undone. He wiggled them down to mid-thigh, exposing his black boxer-briefs. Your fingers touched his dick through the soft cotton, and it jerked. You pulled your hand away a couple of inches and gasped, eyes darting up to his. He nodded to encourage you. After a deep breath, you ran your fingers up his length. This time, you did not stop when it moved at your touch.

"I've only felt Brad’s through his jeans. It's softer than I thought it'd be. But hard too. Really hard."

You commented.

"Do you want to see it?" Bucky asked, and you nodded, eager eyes not leaving his crotch.

He considered telling you to pull his briefs down, but he didn't want to wait. He freed his erection, which sprung straight up. You drew in a sharp breath, then touched his shaft with trembling fingers. His cock jerked to the side, but you never lost contact.

"Wrap your hand around it," He instructed, and you obliged. He groaned, fighting to keep his hips from thrusting up.

"It's bigger than I expected... and warm," you said, eyes meeting his, a grin on your face. "I didn't think... I mean, it makes sense but... this is... incredible." You gripped his dick tighter, squeezing it.

"Stroke up and down, doll.”

You nodded then looked back down at his lap. Your fingers loosened and slid up and down the shaft a few times before wandering to the head.

"I love how soft the skin is even though it's so hard inside," you said before moving your thumb up the glans to the slit. "Is this cum?"

"Pre-cum." He said, resisting the urge to grab a fistful of hair and move your lips down to his crotch. "It leaks out when a man's hard."

"I didn't know that. So, when I suck your thing... your cock, it'll do that?"

You questioned.

"Yes."

He replied.

"Oh. Should I taste it now?"

"If you want."

You wiped up a glob of his fluid with your thumb and brought it to your mouth. Your tongue pushed out to taste it. A strange look crossed your face, and your gaze rose to his.

"It's... weird," you said. "Sweet and salty. And something like... soap? That's not it but...something..."

Shrugging, you sucked your thumb into your mouth, then pulled it out with a 'pop'. His cock twitched.

"Does cum taste the same?”

You questioned; intrigued with the idea of his manhood and just how it all worked.

"Stronger, but similar."

He responded, grinning ear-to-ear at your innocence and the part he was about to have in stripping it from you. He wondered how long it would be before you needed to ‘practice’ having sex before doing it with Brad – there’s nothing Bucky wanted more than to be your first everything.

"I think I like it," you grinned. "But it's different than I expected. My friends who've tasted it said it's bitter or sour. But it's not."

You commented.

"I think it's time for the next step."

He said with a sly smile.

"What should I do?"

You questioned, awaiting his instruction.

"Kiss the tip."

You nodded, licked your lips, and leaned down into his lap. Your lips brushed the glans of his cock once, tentatively. The second time was surer. The third, you wrapped your lips around the very tip and sucked. His dick twitched in response, and you did it again. Bucky wanted to tell you to take more, but he saw that your position might be too awkward.

"Scoot back a little and lie on your tummy on the seat, doll.” He told you, and you complied, knees bent so your calves and feet stuck in the air.

The change in position left your face hovering over his groin, and he nudged you downward. You took the hint, and seconds later, you slurped the entire glans of his penis in your mouth. He groaned, doing his best not to push harder on your head. He needed to let you do this in your own time.

"Move your tongue while you suck," He told you, and you wiggled it. "Yes... like that. Now take a little bit more down... watch the teeth.”

You pulled up, alarmed eyes locking on his.

"Sorry..."

You trailed off.

"It's okay. It happens, especially for girls new to sucking cock. Try this, suck on your finger. Yes, like that. Now, scrape your teeth along it. It's a thousand times worse than that."

You looked at him with wide eyes as you followed his instructions, apologizing again.

"Sorry."

"It's okay. But you have to make sure your lips protect a guy from your teeth. Here."

Bucky took your finger, sucked it into his mouth, his lips moving up and down it. You shuddered, and what sounded like a disappointed noise escaped your parted lips when he removed his mouth from your finger.

"Now, you try," He said, holding out his index finger. You wrapped your lips around it and slid them to the base then back up.

"Good, now add suction."

You did as instructed, hollowing out your cheeks. He’d always liked a woman sucking on his fingers, and you were certainly no exception.

"Very good, sweetheart.” He told you a few seconds later. "Now add some tongue movement. Oh yeah, just like that."

You attacked his finger, sucking hard, lips sliding up and down its length, tongue wiggling. ‘If you could do that to a cock, you’d have boys eating out of her hand’, Bucky thought to himself.

"Okay, now do the same to my cock," He said.

You pulled your lips from his finger, grinned, and dropped your face to his lap, giving the tip of his cock a wet kiss. Bucky groaned, bucked his hips, and applied what he hoped was gentle pressure to your head. You didn’t resist, sliding your lips - no teeth this time - down a couple of inches of his cock. He groaned again. Slowly at first, you bobbed your head up and down, concentrating your efforts on the first third or so of his shaft. A few times, you took at least half of his almost seven-inch length, but much more than that caused you to gag and back off.

"That feels fantastic.” He told you, and you turned your eyes up to meet his. You held each other's gaze for several seconds, but your suction on his cock never lessened and your tongue never stilled.

"Try going faster," He suggested, and you nodded.

Facing down again, you picked up speed. As you did so, the slurping sounds around his shaft grew louder. He ran his fingers through your soft hair, resisting grabbing a fistful and forcing you to go even faster. As it was, the tempo caused his novice cocksucker to take more in on each downstroke, and the times that you gagged increased in frequency as well. It was all as hot as hell, and sooner than Bucky would have liked, he realized he had reached the edge of no return.

"That's so good, doll, I'm really close. Concentrate near the head. Yeah, that's... wait... a little deeper... yes... perfect. Suck hard. God yes. Harder."

You sucked on the first couple of inches of his dick. You’d pulled up too far at first and slurped on the overly sensitive glans. But now your lips tightened just below, and your tongue massaged it gently. He shifted in his seat, groaned, grasped your head, and exploded. The first spurt of cum into your mouth must have taken you by surprise, because you sputtered around his shaft and attempted to raise your head.

Bucky held it in place, however, his hips bucked with each shot and given that you did not struggle more and were not gagging, he figured you had adjusted and were swallowing it all. As it turned out, he was quite wrong. After the last little bit of cum dribbled out of his cock, he dropped his hands from your head. You bolted upright, lips clamped shut, panic in your wide eyes. Rivulets of mascara formed under your moist eyelids. Lower, cum seeped out both corners of your mouth, adding to the flow already running down your chin.

"Swallow it, sweet girl.” He instructed after a couple of seconds. You whimpered, shaking your head.

"It's the easiest way, baby," he shrugged. "Otherwise, it'll just make a big mess. Well, a bigger mess."

You whimpered again, closing your eyes, and swallowing. It took two tries to get it all down, and you shuddered afterward. A drop fell from your chin to one sweet, young tit and started to slide along its curve.

"Show me your mouth," He said, adding, "wider," when you opened it maybe an inch. You did as he asked, and he saw a little white residue in a mostly empty mouth.

"Good girl," He said, patting your head. She gave him a weak smile and wiped her eyes. Another drop of cum joined the first on her breast.

"Here, I'll help," He told her, using his finger to push some of the cum on her chin up to her lips. The girl hesitated, so he thrust his messy finger into her mouth. She closed her eyes and sucked his digit. He fed her the rest in the same way, finishing up with the two drops that had made it to her chest. After a few moments you looked at him, settled back into the passenger seat and gave him a smile, lowering your hand to his thigh.

“Thank you, Buck – I owe you one.”

He smiled in return.

“So what’s your plan, doll? Are you going to use all these new skills on that pathetic excuse for a boyfriend?”

He asked with a teasing scoff at the sound or more so the idea of Brad and you being intimate – it made him shudder. You rolled your eyes before placing his cheeks in your hands and brushing your nose against his.

“Silly boy – I broke up with him two weeks ago.”

You whispered before Bucky let out a giggle and eradicated the space in between the two of you, colliding into your lips with his.

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky x you #bucky fanfic #the winter soldier #james buchanan barnes

114 notes · View notes

aishangotome · 13 hours ago

Text

"Ah, No Need for Money" - Azel (His POV)

Card and story provided by @shatcey!

Azel: Enis, please tell the High Priest...

Azel: ...that God seems to be infatuated with a foreign girl.

Some time had passed since I began using Rhodolite's foreign girl as a shield against women –

Due to official duties, there was a day when I absolutely had to leave the solitary desert castle and stay at the royal palace.

(...Damn it. This is why I don't want to stay in the castle for long.)

(That damned geezer keeps sending me woman after woman whenever he gets the chance...)

The place I quickly head to, so as not to get entangled any further, was the room prepared for foreign guests.

(At this rate, the woman is probably being targeted too.)

(I've assigned her a guard as a precaution and had given those around her strict warnings.)

(She shouldn't be drugged with aphrodisiacs like before... but I should still go check on her.)

(Not that I'm worried or anything, but I couldn't leave her alone in the temple.)

(Since I brought her to the castle for my own convenience, I'll have to compensate her if anything happens.)

(...That's right. It's just that simple.)

Making excuses to no one in particular, I reach the designated room.

When I knock on the door, hurried footsteps and a loud clatter overlap from inside.

(What is it?)

Azel: I'm coming in.

I open the door before I hear permission.

Emma: Th-this is a misunderstanding!

The first words I hear and the scene before my eyes are something even a miracle diviner couldn't predict.

(I gave them strict warnings, though...)

In the moonlight, the woman, who had fallen to the floor, is dressed in harem attire.

The area of exposed skin is greater than usual, and even more concerning is the design of the clothes.

The color and material clearly imitate the attire of a God, and it's tailored in such a way that 10 out of 10 people would recognize her as God's woman.

(Is this the geezer's doing? Or the maid's meddling?)

Emma: I didn't expect anyone to come to my room at this hour...

Azel: Ah, so you do know that's harem attire.

Emma: ...The head maid brought it to me as an apology for the aphrodisiac incident before.

Emma: It seems the harem has many outfits prepared so that Prince Azel can receive women at any time...

Emma: She gave it to me out of goodwill, saying it would suit me.

Azel: Goodwill? You mean malice.

(It's transparent that they want me to lay my hands on her no matter what.)

Exasperated, I still extend my hand to the woman.

I understood from the situation that she had tripped when I knocked on the door.

Emma: ...Thank you.

The woman seemed to understand my intention and obediently took my hand to stand up.

(No injuries... good.)

Emma: The maids only gave me the outfit, they didn't force me to wear it.

Azel: Then why did you put it on?

Emma: ...Well, that...

Emma: I-Isn't it cute?

Azel: Huh?

The woman's face turns a distinct red.

Emma: This outfit... it's so Tanzanite-like and cute, I thought.

Emma: And see, it matches with yours, Prince Azel.

Emma: I just wanted to try it on once since I wouldn't be showing it to anyone.

Emma: I didn't expect you to come right after I put it on...

Her voice trails off, and in the end, she even puts some distance between us.

(...What is this strange feeling?)

For no reason, I withdraw the hand I had started to extend.

Azel: You have a peculiar hobby, wanting to try on harem clothes.

Emma: I thought you'd say that, so I was going to wear it in secret...

Emma: ...By the way, what brings you here so late at night, Prince Azel?

(...)

Azel: Actually, the High Priest sent another woman to me...

Azel: I felt my life was in danger, so I came to take refuge with you.

(It's not a lie.)

(...Although I've already shaken off the woman and there's no need to take refuge.)

Emma: I see...

Fortunately, the woman didn't seem to notice anything amiss.

Emma: ...Wait a minute. You're not planning to stay here all night, are you?

Azel: That's my intention.

Emma: I didn't hear that!?

Azel: I just said it.

(This is the quickest way to ensure your safety from those crazies.)

Emma: Then I'll go change.

Azel: You can stay in that outfit if you want to.

Emma: ...It's not exactly calming, is it?

Azel: You said yourself it was "cute."

Emma: It's more embarrassing than cute in front of you, Prince Azel.

Azel: Don't worry about it. I don't feel anything even if you wear harem clothes.

Emma: Even so, I do mind...!

I instinctively grab the hand of the woman who tries to escape to another room.

(Ah...)

Emma: ...Prince Azel?

Azel: No...

(Why did I stop her?)

(...It's not like I thought she looked good in it or anything, or that I wanted to see more...)

(It's not like that...)

Unable to back down now, after hesitating, I sit down on the nearby bed.

Emma: ! ?

As I pull the woman onto my lap so she can't escape, an indescribable silence swallows everything.

(What am I doing?)

(...How am I going to explain what I intend to do from here?)

Emma: Um...

Azel: You're interested enough in the harem to wear that outfit in secret, right?

Emma: Eh?

Azel: Then let me give you a bit of trivia.

Though I know it's forceful, I take an apple from a nearby fruit basket and place it in the woman's hand.

Emma: ...What's this?

Azel: Aren't you hungry? You can eat it, you know.

Emma: There's definitely something behind this, isn't there?

Azel: I'm a benevolent God.

Emma: A benevolent God wouldn't force someone onto his lap like this...

Azel: Just eat it.

When I urge her, wanting to silence her, the woman obediently takes a bite of the apple.

Emma: Mmm... It's delicious.

(Why is she needlessly exuding sex appeal just by eating? Is it because of the outfit?)

Whether intentional or unconscious, the woman puts her arms around my neck for support.

Though I brought this upon myself, I felt dizzy.

Emma: But what does biting into an apple have to do with trivia?

(That's right, I almost forgot the main topic.)

Azel: ...There are a few unspoken rules in the harem.

Azel: What do you think it means to eat fruit in front of the master?

Emma: .......

Emma: "Aren't you hungry?"

(...Damn it, she's too cute.)

(No, that's not it, that's not it.)

Azel: "Won't you eat me?"

Emma: Huh!?

Azel: If the master bites back into the apple... I'm sure you understand what happens next?

Emma: I don't understand, I don't want to understand!

I put my arm around the clearly flustered woman's waist and bring my face close to the apple.

Azel: The act of eating fruit openly in front of someone requires self-confidence.

Azel: If you're confident you can captivate me, try it. If you can...

My lips touch the apple – the woman, red-faced, watches in a daze without stopping me.

(...Stop me.)

Emma: Eek...!

Instead of biting the apple, I pinch her cheek.

Emma: Wh-What are you doing!?

Azel: Learn from this and don't carelessly wear harem clothes.

Azel: It's a good thing it was a benevolent God who found you. If another man had seen you, he might have misunderstood.

(...Did I manage to gloss over it?)

(I glossed over it, I must have glossed over it.)

Emma: ...No one but you, Prince Azel, would come to my room this late at night.

Azel: That's good to know.

(...)

(................)

(...................This is awkward.)

(Even though I didn't eat the apple, why is it strangely sweet...? Damn it.)

#prince azel #azel radwan #ikepri jp #ikemen prince #ikemen prince azel radwan

78 notes · View notes

bigidiotenergytm · 1 day ago

Note

May I ask for more of the Twins?

Idk I just like them and Yes I came back after crying about the Ithaca saga for like days.

(If so, I might just lay on my bed and read or look at the art you might make and maybe yap about a crazy,funny, and actually kinda nice fanfic.)

-That one anon who originally asked for the twins. :)

Super happy to hear you're enjoying the AU, dear anon! Since Sky's on break, I'll be taking over and answering your ask as his second in command :3 I'm not sure what exactly you'd want to know, so I guess I'll give you this instead XD

Meet Aspa: Ody's and Poseidon's child

They're a small, nonbinary devil XD I know what you're probably thinking, but no; Ody wasn't the one who got pregnant this time. It was actually Poseidon. And nope, he didn't get knocked up the traditional way. Aspa was the product of blood mixing (during six hundred strike, some of Ody's blood seeped into Poseidon's open wounds, mixed with his ichor and ended up getting him pregnant). They're super attached to Odysseus and a literal angel around him. Poseidon, however, gets the feral side. He's honestly just their stress ball that they bite and chew on. Their design was inspired by beta fish and catfish :333 If you have any specific questions about the twins, feel free to ask either me ( @shinedoitsulikeabright ) or @axt-bs since we worked on it together :3 If you'd like to know more about Aspa, you can either ask here or you could ask me (at least while Sky's on hiatus).

69 notes · View notes

plumeria1 · 11 hours ago

Text

A morning with Vi

Note : English is not my language. I can't believe my Jinx x Reader has passed 100 likes thank you so much 🥹

Pairing : Vi x fem reader

Warning : None

Summary : Vi and You have a morning talk.

Modern!au Vander and the others are alive (Vi was in jail for another reason, honestly I didn't think of anything)

The day Vi got out of prison, her sister Powder came to see her, and Vi was delighted to see her brilliant little sister in perfect health. She had grown so much. Vi was proud, soon Powder would be heading to university to pursue an engineering program.

Vi held Powder in her arms for a long moment, but when she stepped back, she saw you. She was so surprised, you, her best friend since childhood, were there. You had confessed your feelings to each other one month before her arrest, you had promised to wait for her and you kept your promise.

That night, she didn't leave your side for a second; it was a long moment full of tenderness, your hands exploring each other's bodies all night long.

You spent a long time admiring her tattoos, running your hand over them and and kissing her freckles.

You didn't let go of each other, spending the whole night cuddling and talking about everything and nothing. She had told you everything that had happened in prison.

Since that day, she had moved into the small apartment you shared with Powder, and you never left each other's side.

1 year later :

After another passionate night, you had once again pushed the blanket to the foot of the bed. You lay in Vi's arms, her head resting on your chest as she always did, one of her legs was draped between yours and her fingers traced lazy patterns on your arm.

Vi lifted her head from your shoulder and looked at you with a tender smile. You look at her curiously.

-Why are you smiling ?

-Because I realized something.

-Oh really? And what is it ?

-Well, every time we make love, you always push the blanket to the foot of the bed.

You laughed, knowing it was true.

-It's because of you, you're too warm. And you do things like that too.

-Really?

-Yes, you always put your head on my chest and stay there for some minutes without saying a word. I want to know why.

Vi sighed, closing her eyes, as if debating wether to answer.

-It reassures me. When I was in prison I was alone, so when I rest my head on you I listen to your heartbeat. It reminds me that you are here and it makes me feel better.

You placed your hand on her head, gently running your fingers through her hair.

-I thought you were going to say something silly, but actually, it's a very romantic way to say "I love you."

-I also do it because your breasts are soft and comfortable.

Your mouth fell open in mock outrage before both of you burst into laughter. Vi loved that sound more than anything.

-You know, when we make love, you do something that I love.

-Mm?

-It's when you scratch my back with your nails, it stings a bit but it means you like what I'm doing so it worth it.

-How could I not like it when you do that with your mouth?

-What do you mean by that ? She pretended not to understand.

-You know, when you-

A knock at the bedroom door cut you off. You sighed, starting to get up but Vi held you back.

-Don't go, let her knock.

From the outside of the door, Powder voice called out.

-Vi, open up, there's a package for you. You need to sign.

Vi groaned dramatically, reaching for her clothes scattered on the floor. She opened the door and turn you back with a little smile.

-Go back to sleep, I'll be right back.

You winked at her with a playful smile.

-I'll keep your spot warm.

She closes the door and you get back into bed, taking her place, and now, deprived of your girlfriend's warmth, you pull the warm blanket over yourself. As you fall asleep, you think about how lucky you were to have her in your life.

Thank for your reading 😉 I hope you liked it

#arcane x reader #vi x reader #vi x you #vi fluff #vi x fem reader #arcane fluff

85 notes · View notes

mythicmanuscripts · 2 days ago

Note

Hey 🙋‍♀️,

First of all I LOVE your writing! It feels so wholesome. It's great. So I thought I could leave my two cents here maybe.

So the idea is Aegon is very happy, that his partner accepts him beeing a sub and that he loves their softdom side and he starts to build a healthier lifestyle all together. But Aegon thinks he has to brat to keep things interessting for his partner, even though he wants nothing more than beeing praised and be called a good boy. And maybe he had a bad day and breaks down and tells his partner, that he can't brat for them today and they are confused, becaus they never expected him to do it in the first place, just thought he was into it.

And then he notices, that his partner is not his mother. They will praise him, just because he tries and does not expect him to be perfect or anything and he really realises just how safe the safe space with them really is.

I just wanne cuddle the puppy and call him good boy. I'll be honest.

Again I love your writing. So do with that what you want, or dont, if this is not your cup of tea. Thats fine.

I'm happy you're back. Lots of Love. 🥰

Oh good lord I love this.

Sub!aegon below the cut with some non-explicit NSFW themes :))

My immediate thought is that I think this most likely stemmed from how in his childhood he learnt that a) he couldn't do anything right and that b) if he acted out then he'd get some attention. He could never seem to get positive attention, could never be good enough for praise. He used to try so hard to meet his mother's expectations and when he never could, she'd just ignore him or give him another task without acknowledging all the work he had done trying to meet her previous expectation.

But... when he misbehaved? Then he'd have both his parents storming into his room. Yes they were telling him off and criticising him, but he didnt invisible. It often felt like if he did something right no one bothered to even glance at him, so he'd rather do something more fun and have everyone working with him, even if they were working to punish him.

When he marries you, he expects you to either see him as a burden or barely see him at all. But you're nothing like that.

The first thing you do that makes him pause is when you actually just ask him about his day? The marriage is arranged of course, but you want to make the best of it. And when you discover how he lights up when you speak with him, and how gently excited he seems when you compliment him, you start to realise that maybe this could be something more than just politics.

Aegon falls into the submissive position so easily with you. There's something about the gentle yet firm way you speak to him that makes his little mind shut off. He relaxes with you, tells you how he feels, even dares to try and please you.

He loves being your good boy, loves seeing your smile and knowing he's making you happy. He'd be with you every second of every day if he could. You're the only person who doesn't make him feel stupid, and not only that, you're also the only person who can guide him without making him feel belittled. When he asks his mother or small counsel for advice they tend to scoff and seem disappointed that he didn't know the answer to his question already. But with you, you just smile and help him, and if you dont know then you take him to the maesters' rooms and try to find out together. He just loves how easy it all is.

At first he used to talk back and disobey to get your attention. But once he realises he gets far more of your time by being good, then he dives right back into being your good boy.

The issues start to occur when he's been good with you for so long that you start to predict what he's doing? You walk into your chambers to find a pretty flower on your nightstand for the third time that week, and while of course you thank him, you add, "Again? Well I'm awfully lucky." You say it off handedly, and you really are touched by the flower he left you. He seems quieter that evening but not so out of character that you get worried.

Then a few days later you're sitting by the fireplace in your chambers, reading a book when he comes in. He kneels at your feet, really wanting to relax and feel your hands playing with his hair. You do it of course, and you tell him how pretty he is. But you also comment that you should get a thicker carpet if he's going to be kneeling often for the sake of his knees.

To him, things like those comments suggest you're getting bored with him? Growing up he always had to switch out tactics the moment someone realised what he was going because once they knew, they'd always just use it against him or ignore him. If he was predictable, then no one would need to actually come find him and watch him because they'd all know what he was doing already.

Of course you don't mean it like that, but he doesn't know that. How could he possibly know that when he's been so used to the other way?

He has always been a bit of a brat with you, but that seemed to fizzle out quickly as he got comfortable. You're surprised when suddenly is returns, and even more surprised when suddenly Aegon is not only breaking his rules but almost gloating?

Aegon isn't allowed to drink more than two cups of wine if you arent with him. It's a rule that at first he didnt like but he grew to genuinely love. It was hard turning down the third glass, but not hard enough that he would break his rules. He'd feel genuinely proud of himself when he sees you afterwards and tells you how good he was.

So when he comes to you and tells you he had five cups of wine, you're honestly much more worried than you are angry. You don't understand what on earth made him break that rule. But, you have the rules for a reason and you follow through. He gets his punishment and then it's over.

He wants so badly to beg for forgiveness and ask for help and promise to never disobey you again. But he's scared that if he does that then you'll once again start to know what he's doing.

He starts to yoyo from good boy to absolute brat every few weeks, and you're getting concerned.

It all comes to a head one night when he retires to bed late and had been told off by several small council members that day. He wants to badly to just fall to his knees and ask for guidance, to let his mind turn off and let you guide him. But he did that two nights ago, and he doesn't think you'd be happy with that again.

So he tries to be cheeky and bratty and tries to talk back to you. Only he can barely even finish his first sentence before tears are gathering in his eyes and he's begging for forgiveness. You're very confused about what he's sorry for but he's in no state to tell you, so you just comfort him and hold him and kiss his head and promise him that you'll help him work out whatever is going on.

It's that last part that makes the damn break. He starts mumbling about how you can't help him work through this because he's not able to do what he's supposed to, how you're going to get bored of him soon but he just couldnt take having to disobey you.

Of course you set him straight and tell him that you love him, and that you'd never want him to force himself into something just to please you, you won't allow it.

He's so relieved when he hears that, so much so that he sort of just collapses against you, looking up at you with wide, misty eyes that show you how much he just wants to listen to you.

He's your good boy after all.

#sub!aegon #aegon targaryen imagine #king aegon #aegon x reader #aegon the second #aegon ii targaryen #aegon targaryen x reader #hotd aegon #house of the dragon #house of the dragon fanfiction #hotd #house of the dragon imagine

67 notes · View notes

mambodork · 3 days ago

Note

A question perfect for the holidays!

On the several aus of boatem or just hermitcraft in genera. What would they do during Christmas?

For example, Isekai! Au, villain boatem! Au, and hotguy and the watcher/cuteguy

Hurray !! Merry late christmas :3

For the isekai au, the world building in the novel works differently from the real world. They have a different calendar system, religion, days of celebration, etc. So there's not really "christmas" in it.

I'd imagine Grian would see that the calendar is nearing its end and would mutter "Oh... it should be around christmas by now." Someone else would overhear him say it and ask what christmas is, in which Grian would continue to make up a lame excuse about something his family celebrates as an inside joke, yadda yadda. When Grian mentions that you're supposed to exchange presents, the rest of boatem immediately panics and scrambles to different directions to try and get presents for each other. Grian decides that this is a really good bonding activity that will HOPEFULLY make them not want to kill each other in the future.

The gifts they get ended up being extremely strange and/or explosive. I'd like to think Scar would accidentally trip on one of the presents, activating one of the explosive items and launching all the gifts under the "christmas tree" into the sky, making it look like some kind of firework. Grian just stares at the now lit up sky with his jaw on the floor. The rest of Boatem shoots laser eyes at Scar as he anxiously tries to apologise, only for Grian to laugh at the sheer ridiculousness. Gosh, I love him and the pathetic cats he picked up from the streets so much, guys.

For the Boatem Supervillains, I could imagine a christmas special scheme where they would do some ridiculous thing like stealing all the christmas presents and replacing every single one of them with coal, pelting random people in the face with a snowball machine gun, Maybe even going to the extreme and actually kidnapping Santa 😭 whether or not it's actually Santa the real deal or just some guy in a mall, I'll let you guys decide. Just know that they're probably doing something really really silly.

For the h0tGuY and the watcher au ... I think it's a bit more on the angsty route with the both of them still having to work even in the holidays. Hotguy would continue to fight villains and monsters. He'd look at the occasional family, couple, or group of friends happily celebrating christmas and is just feeling so bittersweet about it. He takes a little rest after battle and Grian approaches him with those deer antlers headband. He's currently having a cold from the weather so his nose is like really red, and it makes him look like rudolph, which is so funny. Grian presents him with a lunchbox that looks like a traditional red present and Scar raises his eyebrows, questioning him since it wasn't time for lunch yet. Grian sneezes and tells him that it was a christmas special and he should just take it. Scar opens the box and cringes when he saw ... pickles ... cut in the shape of the usual christmas cookies ... snowflakes, gingerbread, christmas trees, the whole bunch. Grian sits down on the ground, not leaving until Scar finishes all his pickles like he usually does. And they spend the entire time just chatting until the next monster attack comes.

#vale asks #grian isekai au #hotguy and the watcher #boatem supervillains

55 notes · View notes

pandora-writes-one-piece · 3 days ago

Text

The Meet-Cute - Zoro's Story - 4

Source for pic

Trouble 4

Word Count: 4785

Tags For The Whole Story: Fem!Reader; Protective!Zoro; Soft!Zoro; Sexual Tension; Teasing; Flirting; Mature Audiences (I'll always tag the NSFW chapters); Modern Day AU; Reader is being stalked; Fear; Paranoia; Angst; Rom-Com Vibes; Mild Gore-like Descriptions; Blood; Dead Animals Mentioned; Reader in a terror-like state; Fluff; Romance; Banter; Manipulation; Miscommunication; Frustration; Reader is very clumsy;

Special Warning: English is not my first language, I apologise for any possible spelling or grammar mistakes.

Summary: After moving away from the hustle and bustle of Grand Line City to help your father around the property following a horse-riding accident - and in the hopes of healing your broken heart after your asshole ex-fiancé cheated - you settle into the country calmness of the Calm Belt. You and Zoro are slowly returning to your easy friendship filled with banter and flirting and you actually begin to glimpse a future with the green-haired cop. But then you start to receive weird gifts. They quickly escalate to manipulative texts. And now you're stuck in a spiral of terror and there's no way to get help because the Stalker, whoever he is, is threatening something other than just your life.

Notes: Chapter four and we're starting to see weird things happening more frequently...! I hope you're enjoying this story! I'm so sorry my updates aren't more frequent!

Masterlist

Nothing. There’s just… nothing there.

Yet you simply can't shake the uneasiness that has settled in your stomach. You know you're being watched. You feel it prickling your skin, making your breath hitch and your heart pound faster.

Whatever - whoever - it is, it's close. What does it - they - want?

“Hey there Troublemaker–”

“Shit, Zoro!” You don't even let him finish his catchphrase before jumping high in the air. He scared you shitless.

“Whoa, calm down.” Zoro raises his hands defensively when he sees you jump out of your skin. “I just came over to see if you were all right.”

Pressing a hand against your chest, you will your heart to slow down, your eyes still scanning the trees for any movement or piercing gaze.

“Yeah, I'm fine. Thanks.” You mutter, your lips pressed thinly together, a clammy feeling washing over you, leaving you feeling tainted. You hug yourself and force a smile, finally letting your eyes meet Zoro's. “Let's go back.”

You take a step forward, but Zoro's hand grasps your upper arm, his eye scrutinizing you from top to bottom. “You're acting weird, Trouble. What's going on?” Then he sets his sights on the trees, and you sigh.

“It's probably nothing. I just feel… watched. It's strange.”

Zoro lets go of your arm, and you feel vulnerable, letting out an involuntary whine as a slight discomfort settles in while he takes a step towards the trees.

“Hang back. I'll check it out.” You open your mouth to protest, but he's quick to enter the dense greenery, one hand patting his back before he curses, realising he didn't bring his gun to a picnic.

After what feels like forever, Zoro emerges with a shrug. “There's nothing there, Trouble. Maybe it was some animal?”

Definitely not.

“Yeah, maybe. Let's go back.” You still feel on edge, but since Zoro did a sweep of the area, you feel somewhat safer.

When you get back, the crew is packing up as the sun sets on the horizon, casting a warm glow over the scene. You help out while Luffy, Barto, and Chopper slow things down with their antics.

By the time you pack all your things and get to the parking lot, stars have already begun to dot the sky, and the view is magnificent. It takes a moment of distraction for Nami to start the car, lower the window, and call out. “Zoro will get you home safely, honey. Have fun!”

Then she speeds out of the parking lot, leaving you and Zoro staring at her dwindling car with amused expressions.

“She's hopeless.”

“She's not subtle at all.” Zoro adds with a dry chuckle. And when you stare at him, your stomach churns for a very different reason than the earlier unease. It's an eagerness you can barely contain. You feel something’s about to happen. You know it, Zoro knows it, it's just a matter of time.

He opens the car door for you, and you step in with a small smile. “Thank you, Officer.” The smirk he graces you with lingers on his lips as he slides into his seat and starts the car.

The ride to your house isn’t long, and the tension between you seems to stifle the air in the small car. But it’s not awkward. Instead, it’s thrilling.

“How’s the job hunt going?”

Zoro asks to fill in the gaps of all the unsaid words between you.

“Oh, I haven’t told you?”

“You found something?” His eye flickers from the road to you for a moment before you shake your head.

“No, I’ve put a hold on it. My dad is going to the South Blue for a horse exhibit with his neighbour, and I need to take care of the chores and animals.”

“You'll be alone?” Now his head turns fully to you before he directs his eye back to the road. You shrug and smile.

“Nah, with Ace.”

The car jerks as Zoro suddenly presses the brakes, and you gasp, clutching the seatbelt strap. He coughs slightly, muttering something about thinking he saw a cat, before clearing his throat.

“Ace?”

“Yeah, he usually helps my dad with the chores, so he’ll help me when I need it.”

“Oh… Oh!” Zoro’s ears turn slightly red as he clears his throat again. “I thought… never mind!” You raise your brow and study his expression, but now he’s refusing to look away from the road. Did he think Ace was going to stay with you in your house? Was that it? “Still, you alone, doing farmhand chores? Recipe for disaster if I ever saw one.”

You scoff, raising your chin in defiance. “I’m a big girl, Officer Zoro, it may not look like it, but I can take care of myself.”

Zoro snorts, and you feel offended. “No, you can’t.”

“Hey!”

“Paperwork on my desk before the week ends. I just know it.” He sighs, closing his eye for a second longer than needed. “It’s fine, no need to insist, I’ll check in on you to see if you’re alive at the end of each day. Even if it's just a text.”

The giggle that escapes your lips is completely involuntary.

“I’ll be fine, you overprotective teddy bear.”

“Oi? What did you just call me?” You laugh again as he parks the car in front of your house. He’s so easy to rile up.

“You need to stop trying to control all my wrongdoings, Zoro. I'm going to fall, I'm going to get hurt, I'm most definitely going to bruise from bumping into something sometime between now and tomorrow. It's life.” You say with another giggle as you exit the car.

Though you don't actually mean it. Zoro worrying about each step you take and protecting you from the most inconspicuous things is very endearing, to say the least.

Quite heart-swelling, to say the most.

But no, not romantic as the girls mentioned at the picnic. You're not going to go there… are you?

“No, Trouble, that's your life. And I'll say it again, I have no idea how you're still alive after all these years.” Zoro sighs as both of you climb the steps to your porch, the air growing more and more charged by the second. “If it's up to me, though,” he stops at the top and faces you, using his hand to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. “Life won't bruise you too hard. I won’t allow it.”

Crap.

That was romantic. Hella romantic.

Shit.

Nami and the girls were right. And, frankly, you're not opposed to it. Nor to the kiss that seems about to happen again as you can't seem to take your eyes off each other.

Instead, you stumble on the step as you try to bring yourself closer to Zoro, and he shifts his stance to steady you. That's when his eyes dart to the floor, and he raises a brow.

“What is that?” Zoro points to a gift box neatly tied with a silk ribbon. “Is that another gift? Like the ones you were talking about at the picnic?”

An involuntary sigh escapes your lips as yet another intimate moment between you vanishes into thin air.

“Most likely.” You eye the box warily. Now that you know the gifts aren't from Zoro, they leave you feeling quite uneasy. Then, with a sigh, you move to open it, but Zoro beats you to it.

He grabs the box and unties the ribbon, his brow furrowing deeper and deeper. Then he looks at you quizzically, turning the box upside down and shaking it theatrically. “It's empty.”

What?

You’ve never received an empty box. No note, no gift. What could it mean? Who would even bother to leave an empty box by your doorstep?

Zoro turns the box upright again, as if it could magically sprout a gift. But when it doesn't, he tosses it with a dramatic flip into the trash can at the bottom of the steps.

“Keep updating me on these gifts, will you? If they start being too much, or seem threatening, or something like that…?”

Hands wrapping around your arms, you force a shaky smile. “Nothing of the sort so far. Just sweet gifts. They don't seem threatening, maybe the person is just shy? Afraid of rejection?”

Zoro doesn't seem too convinced. “Yeah, I don't buy it. And I don't like it one bit.”

A smirk tugs at the corner of your lips. “Jealous, are you, Officer?”

It takes an extra second for his scowl to twist into a smirk of his own. “Maybe.” And just when you think the moment is building back up, Shanks bursts through the door, his team’s scarf wrapped around his head like a bandana and a beer in his hand. By the sway of his body, he's already tipsy. Beckman is leaning against him, either to support Shanks or himself since, judging by his own sway, he's also drunk.

“We won! Bug! We took the championship!”

You sigh, declaring time of death on your romantic goodnight kiss. Shanks is already wrapping Zoro in an unwanted one-armed hug and you can't stop a giggle from leaving your lips.

“That's great, Dad. Now, please let Zoro go home.”

“Mr. S.” Zoro starts, though his tone is doubtful. “Did you, by chance, hear anyone coming to your porch?”

Shanks grins, letting go of Zoro, and smirks at you. “Only you two lovebirds. The heavy tension you’ve got going on is louder than a thunderstorm.” He gestures vaguely to the small space between both of you and you take a step back, biting your lower lip to hide a smirk.

Then Shanks glues his mouth to Zoro's ear, who sighs and runs a hand over his face, already bracing for what's coming.

“You should kiss her.” His laugh turns into a weird giggle, and you raise your brow, placing a hand on your hip and looking at Beckman like he's the one at fault. “Just don't tell her dad, he's a bit overprotective! Shhh!”

Zoro grumbles something under his breath that greatly resembles, ‘I was trying to, but you interrupted…’ when Beckman grabs the scruff of Shanks’ shirt and pulls him inside.

“All right, all right, leave the lovebirds alone. Let's grab another beer and watch the highlights!”

After a bit of protest, Shanks gets dragged inside. You sigh and place your hand on the handle, whatever prospects of romance building back up are quickly drowned by team chants and loud burps coming from inside the house, so Zoro waves a quick goodbye before returning to his car and you enter your house with a wide grin.

It wasn't a bad day at all. It could've ended better, that's true, but the intent was there. And so is the weird fluttering in your stomach. Could this thing that's beginning between you and Zoro really blossom into something more?

-*-

After a quick shower, you put on your pajamas and check your phone. You were only away from it for a little more than fifteen minutes, but it was enough for Zoro to reach out.

Zoro: Just got home. How many more bruises have you gotten in all the time I was away?

A giggle leaves your lips before you answer him.

You: None whatsoever! You: Damn. You: Just bumped my shin climbing into bed. I blame you for this, you know?

He's quick to answer, and you let your body fall back on the mattress, one hand still rubbing the sore shin.

Zoro: Damn it, Trouble. Can't leave you alone for a full minute. You: Maybe you shouldn't…

Shit. Maybe that was too forward.

Crap. It was definitely forward, seeing as the three little dots keep appearing and disappearing. Shit. Crap. Balls.

Zoro: Maybe I won't. Stay safe until then, Trouble.

Oh… Oh!

He was definitely flirting back. A tiny squeal leaves your lips as your fingers hover over the keyboard.

BANG!

You gasp, the phone dropping with a muffled thud against the mattress as you get up, one hand on your chest, trying to steady your racing heart.

What the hell was that?

It sounded as if something crashed right into your window. With fear holding your body ransom, you take one shaky step towards the window. You reach out your hand, fingers trembling, before grasping the curtain and pulling to the side. Your first instinct is to look outside, but the dim light from the moon and stars isn't enough to reveal much.

Until your eyes fall on the windowsill, and another gasp escapes your trembling lips.

A bird.

A mixed feeling of relief and sorrow fills the gaps between the uneven beats of your heart. You don't quite know what you expected, but it wasn't a dead bird. Though you feel sorry for the poor thing.

Collecting an old t-shirt, you open the window and wrap it around the tiny thing. It's a robin, poor little creature. You can't help but feel sorry for the way its neck is twisted. It must've broken it when it flew against your window.

Putting on slippers, you descend the steps to bury the bird outside, and can't help but smile at the two unconscious, snoring men on your couch.

It takes a full fifteen minutes for you to dig a small hole and place the bird inside. Then, it takes another five minutes to wash your hands, place blankets over both men, and return to your room.

But it's not until almost an hour later, when you're teetering on the edge of sleep and exhaustion, that your tired brain registers something important.

Robins are morning birds.

-*-

Come morning, the weird events from last night are stored in the dusty, barely visited basement of your mind. What lingers front and center is the way you and Zoro almost kissed again and how blatantly you flirted.

Sunday rolls by lazily, and you and Zoro text some more, getting reacquainted on music, food, and movie tastes. There's more in common between both of you than you remembered.

You find out he did create a Kendo club after you left school, and that he owns several awards for sword-wielding. He's quite good at it, apparently. When you ask if he's the best, he gets salty and says his Captain still holds that title. But not for long, he adds, cocksure, making you giggle.

Your dad leaves Monday, and you won't admit to him that you're worried sick he's going to throw his back out and be half a world away from his doctor and from you. Instead, you plaster a fake, happy smile and ask Beckman to please take care of him.

There's a gift waiting for you on the porch, and you're not quite sure if it was there when you left the house to walk your father to the car or not.

Looking around, eyes darting towards every corner, every tree, every half-hidden nook and cranny, you will your heart to calm down. It's just gifts. Harmless gifts.

The ribbon on this box seems more tattered and haphazardly tied up than the other ones you got, but maybe your admirer was in a rush?

It's a teddy bear.

And as you toss the box and its contents into the nearby trash can, you pretend not to have noticed that the teddy bear is missing one ear. You also pretend that the fact doesn't bother you. Nor does the clenching of your heart or the uneasiness in your stomach.

They're just harmless gifts.

Nothing else.

You're safe.

-*-

“What do you mean, a yacht?”

You shove a potato chip in your mouth and chew loudly as you go around the house, methodically closing up latches and locks, like you've been doing the past week.

“Like a real one!” Nami says, exasperated. “Franky builds boats for a living, and he’s been working on his dream boat for a while: The Thousand Sunny. It’s finished now and he wants to throw a party to honour it.”

Ground floor check. You turn off the lights, and stop by the kitchen to fill your mug with water, and store the chips in the cabinet before climbing the steps of the eerily quiet house.

“I’m down! Sounds fun to me.”

“Right? Franky will be taking it to sea, too, and Usopp says he has new fireworks he wants to test. Sanji will cook the food, and the rest of the guests will bring booze!” She cheers on the other side of the line as you reach your room and close the curtains.

“The rest of the guests? I thought it would only be the usual gang…”

“Just a few more people, I think…” She says it so casually that you already know a few more people means at least twenty more people. A resigned sigh leaves your lips. It will still be fun.

“M’kay, thanks for the invite, Nami.” You yawn. “I’m going to get my beauty sleep now, talk tomorrow?”

Nami hums in agreement on the other side, knowing that you have to get up with the call of the rooster to get all your chores done. “Bye, love!”

As soon as the quietness envelops you - now that Nami’s cheery voice is gone - you feel your stomach heavy with dread. Spending the whole week alone in this huge house has brought you a feeling of apprehension and unease.

The house seems larger and, at the same time, more stifling. The shadows seem menacing, and the hidden corners feel like traps. You have never felt this way from being alone before, not even when Ichiji left for business trips for days in a row - though you knew he left some of his bodyguards behind - so why are you so scared now?

The barn door creaking outside feels like the loudest sound in the world, and you freeze. You closed it. You know you latched it.

You tiptoe to the window again, hand hovering around the fabric before you lick your lips and, with a deep breath, draw the curtains back.

The door is wide open.

What the hell?

You clutch the phone you still haven’t put down like it’s a lifeline, like it can keep you grounded as your eyes dart around the yard, using the dim light you left on the porch and the one on the barn as a guide, but there’s nothing out there.

Nothing but the big barn door swinging on its hinges.

And inside… what…? A shadow?

You open the window slowly, feeling your heart drumming against your chest, so hard you can almost bet it will tear a hole open in your sternum. Could it really be a shadow?

You lean further, holding your breath, counting your heartbeats to keep you grounded…

And then your phone rings.

You let out a yelp, sneaking your head back inside and dropping the phone on the floor, the quietness of the house disrupted by your loud ringtone. It takes a few shallow breaths and sitting on the floor before you can pick up the call.

“Hey, Troublemaker, making trouble?”

“Zo… Zoro!” You manage to shake out his name, still scared shitless, your hand clutching your shirt against your chest.

“What’s wrong, Trouble?” His tone changes from playful to worried in a millisecond.

“I… I…” You get up, your eyes immediately darting back to the barn. “I think there’s someone out there. The barn door, I’m sure I closed it and it’s open now and–...”

“I’ll be right there, don’t hang up.”

You nod against your phone, even though he can’t see you. Somehow, his words are already calming you, and the fact that he’s on his way over sends a jolt of warmth through you.

“I’m sorry, Zo. I didn’t want to trouble you, maybe it’s nothing, I can go down and–...”

“Stay where you are.” He grumbles, and you hear his car starting. “You’re not taking that risk. I’m on my way.”

As the minutes tick by and Zoro keeps talking to you, you start to feel silly. Maybe you did forget to latch the door. It happened that other time with Zoro, right? Though you’re also sure you locked it then…

It’s probably nothing.

You should go down.

“I’m going downstairs, Zoro. I’ll meet you there.” You say, and before he can protest, you hang up.

Taking a deep breath, you make your way out of the house, shivering once the crisp air surrounds you. Your phone rings again in your hand, but this time you don’t get scared before you pick up the call. “I’m fine! Don’t worry, I’m sure it’s nothing.” You say to Zoro on the other side of the line.

“Trouble! I’m literally five minutes away. Don’t you dare move away from that fucking house.”

Shit, you managed to make him upset.

“Fine!” You say, yet your feet take you a step further. You’re alone in a farmhouse, you can’t call big, scary Zoro everytime you hear a loud creak or see a shadow. You’re an independent, self-sufficient woman.

You got this.

“You’re walking towards the barn, aren’t you?” His tone is more resigned than angry this time. “Wait for me, damn it!”

“I’m waiting!” You lie and take another step. You’re sure the shadow you saw was just one of the cows. It had to be.

“Lie to me one more time, Trouble…” The warning tone in his voice should tell you he’s not playing around, but you don’t listen. You actually feel braver than ever. What are you trying to prove? That you can take care of yourself?

Then why did you ask for Zoro’s help as soon as you heard him on the phone?

The barn is one step away. You reach out your hand to stop the swaying door, and the light above you flickers ominously. You can hear Zoro grumbling on the other side of the line, but as you take the phone away from your ear to turn on the flashlight, his words are inteligible.

Besides, he’s surely cursing your stupidity.

He’s not wrong, though.

You take a cautious step inside and try to turn on the lights, but they don’t work. Is it a coincidence? Or something else entirely?

Moving with the help of the flashlight, you take more steps forward, your heart thumping loudly now. Maybe you really should wait for Zoro, since all the previous bravado you were feeling flew out the window when the lights didn’t turn on.

You’re about to turn on your heel when the barn door shuts with a loud bang, and you gasp, dropping your phone in the process and losing the only source of light inside the barn.

A scream stays lodged in your throat as you fall to your knees, hands tapping the straw scattered on the ground and searching for your device. The barn is stifling hot now, the air staler. Your breaths come in ragged gasps, and fear grips your bowels. You really should have waited for Zoro.

You’re sure it’s just your mind playing tricks, but you can almost feel hot breath against the back of your neck. A small whimper leaves your lips as you shake your head, one hand furiously wiping the stray tears that somehow escaped your eyes without you even realising it.

Deciding to come back for your phone later you start to crawl towards the door, the dim light from outside seeping through the cracks in the wood, serving as a small guide and a gentle comfort, but it doesn't quite serve the purpose of illuminating the dark.

And then you feel something thread through your hair.

The scream that was lodged in your throat comes out loud and uncaring. And then the door bursts open, clarity inundating the small space as terror grips you.

“Trouble?” Zoro’s eye locks on you, his expression steely and determined as he takes two steps forward.

You don’t trust your voice enough to speak, but you fall on your butt, eyes looking around frantically for the source of what touched you. Because you’re sure something - or someone - touched you.

Zoro’s flashlight illuminates the far corners, and you don’t see anything but cows and horses.

There’s nothing else.

And then you feel it again. Another scream threatens to come out, but it quickly turns into a nervous laugh.

It's a freaking cow licking your freaking hair.

“What the fuck is so fucking funny?” Zoro’s voice is clipped and gravelly. He’s pissed. “Didn’t I tell you to wait inside? When will you listen to me, Trouble?”

Tears spill from your eyes as relief floods you and adrenaline drains out of your system. The nervous laugh keeps making you lips tremble, and Zoro keeps admonishing you.

“What if there really was someone here? You could’ve been in serious trouble! What if I didn’t make it in time? What if–...”

“Nothing happened, Zo, calm down!” You finally manage to find your voice again as you get up and thread your fingers through your wet hair, making a face and wiping your hand on your pants.

“Calm down?” Zoro’s eye widens as he approaches you, his towering frame shadowing you as he aims an angry scowl your way. “Are you fucking kidding me?”

“I’m sorry.” You say truthfully, holding the intensity of his gaze with a slight shiver. “You’re right, I should’ve waited.”

His furrowed brow relaxes somewhat, and he sighs, a softer look crossing his features as he gives you a once-over to see if you’re really fine. “Yes, you should. What were you trying to prove, anyway?” Then he flashes his light one more time towards the cows who ‘moo’ softly at him. “The lights?”

“They’re out.” You flip the switch to prove your point. “And I guess I was trying to prove to myself that I don’t need you to show up everytime I see a shadow just because I can’t stand being alone.” You whisper, looking to the floor and finally locating your phone.

“Trouble.” Zoro takes a step forward and lifts your chin with his thumb and forefinger, forcing you to look at him. The harshness in his voice seeps away slowly as he gazes intently at you. “I don’t mind showing up anytime you need me.” He sighs, his fingers moving along your jawline and cupping your cheek. “Just don’t go risking your safety like that anymore, okay?”

This time when your heart thrums out of beat against your chest it’s not from fright, it’s something else entirely.

So you just nod, eyes flicking to his lips inadvertently.

His eye strays lower too, and you take a deep breath. Then the door creaks again, breaking the silence and the moment.

“I’ll give the barn a quick check, wait here.”

This time, you do as he tells you, but he comes back quickly, having found nothing at all. Zoro does a quick sweep of your house too, since you left the door open when you went on your one-woman mission to raid the barn. Afterwards, you offer him something to drink.

You both sit at your table, a hot tea in front of you, and Zoro runs a hand over his face, his frustration still not completely gone.

“Don’t do that again. Do you know how worried I was? What if…” He sighs, realising you’ve had this conversation earlier and giving up on lecturing you anymore. “Just wait for me if there’s ever another time, got it?”

“Sorry…” The slow sips of the beverage are the only sounds surrounding you for a while before you disrupt the silence. “So, Franky’s yacht party, you going?”

“Hmm… I’ll try. I have a late shift that I can’t get out of. I’ll probably meet you all there.”

“But the Sunny is going to be at sea then!”

“Sunny?”

“Franky named it The Thousand Sunny, it’s shorter.” You collect the mugs and place them in the sink.

“I’ll swim.” Zoro states with a smirk before getting up and heading towards the door.

“You’re joking.”

“But am I?” He stares at you for a beat before opening the door and stepping outside. “As long as you want me, I’ll always be where you are.”

He doesn’t give you enough time to react to his words before he climbs down the steps and gets inside his car, rolling the window down. “Get inside and go get some sleep. We’ll talk tomorrow at the party.”

You nod and get inside, realising he’s waiting for you to be safely locked in before leaving.

However stupid you might be feeling from calling him over a shadow - that turned out to be nothing - you can’t regret it. Not when it left you feeling like you’re on cloud nine.

Tags: @rosidaze @beachaddict48 @armiliadawn @jintaka-hane @sprinkklz @baby5555 @hopelesslover06 @mars-mizuko @sleepykittycx @nerium-lil @eustasscapitankid @ren-ni @jqperi @lycoriskalmia @daydreamer-in-training @iloveyoushanks @thegalaxysedge22

#reader x roronoa zoro #roronoa zoro x reader #zoro roronoa x you #zoro roronoa x reader #roronoa zoro #you x zoro #zoro x you #reader x zoro #zoro x reader #the meet cute #one piece #one piece modern world au #reader insert #x reader

67 notes · View notes

reneesghostinthelivingroom · 2 days ago

Note

Poly!plastics x reader where reader has Diabetes type 1. Thank you so much!

Excuse to Leave

|| poly!plastics x nonbinary!reader

|| Warnings; reader is diabetic, panic/worry mentions, brief swearing

|| Summary; when reader forgets their stash of snacks at home, they text their girlfriends for help. Just to be on the safe side.

Requests closed!

Started; December 29th

Finished; December 29th

~~~

Usually, you brought little snacky stuff with you to keep your sugar levels stable throughout the day. Today, you'd forgotten your stash at home. Only to realize when you were in the middle of first period, searching for one of those goodies.

"Shit," you muttered to yourself and raised your hand. The teacher looked to you, making a hand gesture for you to ask your question," can I go to the bathroom?"

"Hall pass is just on the ledge there," she nodded to the ledge of the chalkboard. You quickly stood, phone in your pocket. With quick hands you grabbed the pass, even quicker feet carrying you out of the room. Leaving the teacher and a few students (the ones who had been actually paying attention) to wonder why you were leaving so fast. The teacher knew you were diabetic and had a certain feeling in her gut that something might've been wrong. However, you were the type to say if there was. For the more immediate matters, anyway. Because of that, the teacher didn't think too hard on it.

You rushed to the bathroom. The thuds of your shoes echoing off the lockers. Reaching into your pocket, you fumbled getting your phone out. The stupid corners getting caught on the fabric of your pants.

"Come on, please.. there!" Your fist pumped in triumph, getting out your phone and quickly texting the group chat you shared with your girlfriends. One of them had bound to be on their phone right now. There was always at least one active. Especially in the middle of class. To your luck, it was Regina who responded to your text. The one that had the car.

You; I forgot my snacks at home!!

Regina; need me to pick something up?

Regina; i'm dying for a reason to get out of class

You; please, anything with sugar

Karen; ooo i luv sureger!!! i have sum!!

Gretchen; she's like always got something candy in her bag, i can bring some to you! where are you?

Relief filled you. You should have remembered Karen's habit of keeping sweets with her, luckily Gretchen remembered and was offering to bring it to you. Meanwhile Regina, was grumbling in class because she really wanted the excuse to leave. She decided to just do it anyway, heading to the bathroom after you texted you'd meet Gretchen there.

In the bathroom, Gretchen handed you a couple of snacks. Some of which happened to be your favourite, making you wonder if Karen carried those with her on purpose. If she knew you liked them.

"Here! Will this be enough for the day?" Gretchen asked, her tone rushed and laced with worry. Her eyes searching your own for any signs that something was wrong.

"Please say no so I can go to the gas station," Regina said, making her presence known when she walked in. You couldn't help but laugh, shaking your head.

"It should be fine, but you can still go Reggie, who knows. Maybe I'll need backups, hell I should probably keep a stash in my locker anyway," you thought out loud. You really wished you'd come up with that idea sooner. Regina smirked at that, looking thrilled to have a reason to leave school property. Not that her mom was one that would care anyway, but if any teachers asked... well, you were just the perfect excuse she needed.

52 notes · View notes

suzukiblu · 2 days ago

Note

I kind of want to try your method of posting wips a snippet at a time while writing them, but on the other hand I am nervous about it. Can you give me some advice?

I've been trying to nail down the mixed feelings, and this is what I've got so far:

for:

it will get eyes on my fics faster, and I can show off what I've written sooner, instead of needing to finish a whole chapter

it will encourage engagement both in reacting to specific posts and in asking for more

it will be more chances for people to be intrigued and want to read the whole fic

against:

what if I do it and nobody cares?

til now I've been releasing fics a chapter at a time and it would feel weird to change that. inertia and all

what do I do if/when I change something I've written and already posted a snippet of?

in direct response to your listed mixed feelings, in my personal experience of writing this way:

for:

it will get eyes on my fics faster, and I can show off what I've written sooner, instead of needing to finish a whole chapter: yes it will, and it feels great! and personally it also helps me keep momentum and helps soften the sting if I drop a fic/chapter later and people don't have much to say about it. I KNOW it's good, other people already told me they liked it!! no, I'm not gonna throw out the whole story because of one mediocre reception, SHUT UP IMPOSTER SYNDROME AND GET BACK IN THE WRITING TRENCHES.

it will encourage engagement both in reacting to specific posts and in asking for more: yes it does, and WAY more people consistently (and more gratifyingly!) engage with me since I've made a habit of posting this way, especially when they're especially interested in a specific WIP over my other ones, and a lot of people just seem to be more engaged and invested in my writing in general. or at least more willing to tell me that they are, if nothing else, haha.

it will be more chances for people to be intrigued and want to read the whole fic: yes it will, and if you post larger scenes and tag them, then more people are likelier to find you/your writing than would if you only post one chapter in the tags however often you update those. also, if you have a fic-specific WIP tag that you link to, it's very easy for people who are just discovering the WIP to go back and catch up all at once ( or for people who aren't into it to blacklist, if that's a concern, as opposed to them feeling like they have to unfollow/block you ).

against:

what if I do it and nobody cares? good news: they probably won't care! at least to start. that's just kinda how it is, to start. I get a lot of engagement because I am REAL prolific and do my best to be responsive, plus I've been updating this blog and in this specific fandom pretty consistently for over a year, and also have also been in online fandom spaces on and off for, like, legit twenty-five years at this point. so I am just very used to being in these spaces, and I also have readers who've followed me for a decade+ or even since I was an actual literal TEENAGER in at least a couple cases, so like, they're already kinda invested in my writing, haha. there are people following this blog who not only read my Inu-Yasha Miroku/Sesshoumaru fanfic back in the day in the Pit of Voles but also still REMEMBER reading my Inu-Yasha Miroku/Sesshoumaru fanfic back in the day in the Pit of Voles, to say nothing of everyone who found me through AtLA or the MCU or the Witcher ( or so, so much Star Wars meta, the Star Wars meta has also definitely been a thing ). also I update my blog pretty consistently and I do writing memes that reward the people who play with me with new content and more progress in their fave WIPs, and also they're technically "voting" for what they wanna see more of, so that also adds to them feeling engaged/invested and me feeling motivated/energized, because they feel like they've affected the growth and progress of the story ( which they have ) and I feel like they're enjoying the story and genuinely appreciate it ( which they do! ). so everyone wins!

til now I've been releasing fics a chapter at a time and it would feel weird to change that. inertia and all: yeah that is the sunk-cost fallacy trying to fuck you up and you can and should tell it to fuck off. if you try it and you don't like the change, you can just stop doing it. you're free! no one can stop you!! hit the bricks, do your thing, the past is gone and it is NOT in charge of your ass! your ass is all yours!! whatever, we do what we want! I am in fact giving you explicit PERMISSION to do what you want.

what do I do if/when I change something I've written and already posted a snippet of?: then you've changed something! if it's a major change, you can repost the updated scene or mention you're making a change in a separate post or just say there's been a significant change when you post the chapter and therefore people who've already read the WIP posts might wanna reread it, but personally I change and tweak and fiddle with stuff I've already posted all the time. usually it's just bits of phrasing or formatting or adding in little details to round stuff out or correct mistakes, or to clarify things that confused people or that I forgot about, but sometimes it's adding multiple paragraphs or even additional little scenes. it's absolutely a thing I do and a thing that I consider fair play. you're literally posting "work-in-progress" excerpts, it is in the NAME that stuff might/will change or be adjusted. shit, if you feel like it, throw the whole story out and start over with a 2.0 WIP tag!! art is meant to be fucked with!!!!

it feels weird to post them on my writing blog, which currently only holds finished chapters (and fanart), but if I post them on my main, I feel like they'll get lost and/or I'll miss reactions in my busy activity channel. Where should I post it to? Should I make yet another sideblog?: the past is gone! you are free!! it's a writing blog that is for your writing and you can write whatever you want on it. the rules are made up and the points don't matter!! if you want a WIP blog too, you can totally start a WIP blog too, but you also don't have to feel obligated to bloat your sideblog collection or to have to go to all the effort of building up a brand-new following for a brand-new blog when there's already people who followed another blog of yours specifically for your writing. it's your writing blog. it's for your writing. write on it how you please!! if you're SUPER-concerned about the change, include a specific tag on all your WIP snippets that people can just blacklist if they only wanna see your full finished updates. for example I use "rintalk" so people can skip my random talky posts/asks if they wanna but also won't accidentally be filtering out anything they DO wanna see from anyone else on their dash; they can specifically avoid just mine. so like, maybe "octo WIPs" or "nb WIPs" or just whatever you're into would work for you, or just something like that.

unrelated to your for/against: posting stuff like this is not an approach that'll give everyone the same results or even WORK for everyone, obviously, but it works for me because again, I'm prolific, responsive, tend to follow my readers' interests, and have been doing this a lonnnggggg time and have built up an audience both from past fandoms and in specifically DC fandom. and also I'm super, super ADHD. definitely also because of the ADHD. there is . . . there is just so much ADHD lol.

but yeah, like, I'm pretty sure I've been updating pretty consistently for the past . . . what, year or so of DC-hyperfixation? something like that?? I've also published over 300k to AO3 in that time and GOD knows how much more word count I've put up on Tumblr, so like . . . tl;dr, I absolutely think you should give it a try and see if it works for you/if you like it, I just also wanna include the caveat that you shouldn't be discouraged if you don't get an immediate return on or big response to said try. like, I dunno what your followers are like or how much they talk to you, obvi, but I personally had to kind of . . . cultivate, basically? I had to cultivate the communication and the back-and-forth, it didn't just happen immediately. we have cultivated, all of us here, hahaha.

for actual practical excerpt-posting advice, generally speaking, the best start I've found for starting out with posting a WIP as you write it is to take, like, the starting scene of the fic/chapter up until either a narratively-interesting/satisfying end point ( or better yet, a cliffhanger ) and post that as a WIP excerpt in the relevant tags. then you're likelier to introduce the story to new people and bring them by your blog to see more, and they'll come in both primed for and LOOKING for WIP excerpts. then, you know, you can post subsequent scenes or bits in chronological order, ideally. personally when I do WIP Wednesday or anything like that, I don't tag little posts like those in the main tags, just with a WIP tag specific to their story ( which, like, obvi you know I have those, haha, I know you've been around MORE than long enough and even if you hadn't pretty sure I already mentioned them somewhere up there anyway, I'm just being thorough ), but anything that's pushing 400-500 words or longer gets fully tagged with ships/characters/fandom/etc and gets chrono/non-chrono links included in the post and then sent out into the world as my lil' story ambassador, haha. just, you know, use a cut or at least a "long post" tag if it's much longer than that, because like, Tumblr manners and all, hah.

ummmmm . . . so yeah idk how much of that was helpful for you, obviously, but if you have follow-up questions or anything, feel free to hit me up, I'm always down for those and I'll do my best to answer!

#nonbinary-octopus #rintalk #rinquiry #long post

52 notes · View notes

midnight-mourning · 20 hours ago

Text

Holiday Stalling

❄️❄️Midnight's DCA December Day 26❄️❄️

Another silly sweet one for y'all, very much enjoyed the shennanigans that occurred :)

Prompt: Second request idea if you need it! Y/n has a christmas party to get to right after their shift and moon and sun see them for the first time in their non work clothes (they look very cute!) The boys are feeling pretty disapointed they don't get to see this side of Y/n and try their best to keep them in the daycare as long as possible ("sunshine you HAVE to see our new puppet show""i didnt see you take your mandatory 10 minute break. my lap. NOW""sunshine i only trust YOU to oil my joints :(") and of course y/n is happy to stay a lil longer but they still want to be able to go to the party(gotta make sure ALL the homies get their quality y/n time)

Word Count: 1329

❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️

You close your locker and check the time. Still plenty of time to head home and relax before the party.

Your friends were having a massive holiday bash tonight, and given you hadn't seen any of them for what felt like ages, you were excited. You'd even taken the liberty to bring nice clothes with you to work just in case you wouldn't have time to run home and change. But since you'd gotten off on time, you could instead take the chance to charge up your social battery before heading over.

You go to out for the day, when you remember you left your jacket in the Daycare.

Hurrying back that way, you quietly open and close the door so not to disturb Sun. You spy your jacket lying amongst the things on the security desk, folded up neatly. The playtime attendant must have been the culprit, as you see on top of your coat is a sticky note with your name and a drawing of Sun.

You smile, laughing softly as you grab it.

You're about to put it on when laughter from across the room stops you.

Sun lands in your view, wire retracting after a moment. "Hello Sunshine! I wasn't expecting to see you again so soon!"

"Hi, Sunny. Yeah, forgot my jacket, which you already know, I guess." You start to put it on again. "Thanks for finding it for me!"

Sun's rays spin a few times. Then he shakes his head. "Of course, friend!"

"Something wrong? You seem kind of dazed."

He puts his hands up. "Oh no, no. I just, we've never seen you out of uniform before!"

"Huh? Oh yeah, guess you haven't." You laugh, and give them a quick spin. "A bit more dressed up than usual, these are my nice clothes."

Sun makes a noise that sounds, off. Like he had a glitch or something. His tone is even when he speaks however. "You look... very nice, Starlight."

"Oh, thank you." You look away, face heating up, then shake your head. "Well, I've gotta run, have a holiday party in a few hours, but I'll see you tomorrow!"

You start to walk to the doors but a hand on your wrist stops you. "Wait!"

You pause, turning back to him. You can hear his fans have kicked on, and it raises your concern once more.

"Are you sure you're okay?" You turn to face him fully, hand over his.

Another noise, then he shakes his head. "Actually Sunshine, I'm not feeling so hot. Could you, maybe stay a moment?"

"Of course I can." You say, voice soft. "Come on, let's go sit down and see if that doesn't help.

You spend about ten minutes with Sun, chatting as you look him over for any potential causes to his issues. He only seems to get worse however, to your dismay.

"Maybe a distraction would help." You grab some crayons and paper and split them between the two of you.

Sun snaps a crayon or two in his haste, but you do think it helps somewhat. In fact, you'd say you made progress enough to be able to leave him alone, when the lights go out.

Moon is not in nearly as bad as shape, he is, however, insistent that you take a rest.

"You've been so helpful, Star. You deserve a break too." He pats his leg. "Besides, I don't believe I saw you take your break today. If you're going to be out late tonight you'll need energy."

You check the time again. You still had plenty to get to the party, and a rest in Moon's arms does sound nice...

You fold, climbing into his lap with a sigh. "Alright, guess that's good enough an excuse for me."

"You weren't going to have a choice in the matter." Moon chuckles, arms wrapping around you.

The two of you chat quietly back and forth, not really tired enough for a nap yourself. There's also the matter that his fans are still going and while not loud, are loud enough that you couldn't sleep even if you wanted to.

When the lights come back on, you're ready to go, but Sun begs you to stay for a puppet show.

"Please, Sunshine. I want to perform it tomorrow for the kids and you're the only one who can give constructive feedback!" His hold on you tightens, having still been in his lap from your previous rest with Moon. "You have to see it. Pretty, pretty please?"

You sigh, giving in based on how eager he is. "Okay, but this better be an amazing show, or I'll be thoroughly disappointed." You tease.

Sun gives a fake gasp. "How could you insinuate it would be anything but?!"

The puppet show is good, you can't deny that. Perfect for the holidays and such. And the surprise of Moon having a show of his own after Sun's finished wasn't necessarily unwelcomed. Sun making you oil his joints 'You're the only one I trust to do it!' wasn't something you were planning on doing tonight, though of course none of this was, but you do that as well since he insists.

But just as you're getting ready to leave again, you're once more stopped.

"Sunny, this has been lovely, but I really do have to get going. My party starts soon." You had another twenty minutes or so, but that's not accounting for driving and the likes.

Your hand is in his, grip tight. "Just one last thing, Sunshine! I promise it'll be quick. Pinky promise."

"Fine. But this is the last thing, okay?" You turn to face him fully, hand reaching up for his face. "You know I love hanging out with you guys, but I have to get to my party eventually."

Sun nods, leading you over to a spot by the playset. He stands there for a moment, holding your hands, before glancing up. You take the hint and do the same.

Above you, tied to the playset, is a small bundle of mistletoe.

Your face blooms with heat and you look back down, making eye contact with him. "Oh, um, don't know what I was expecting but it wasn't that."

Sun's rays spin as he looks away, grip faltering on your hands.

"You, you don't have to if you don't want to. We've... kept you long enough." He fully releases you, stepping back. "To be honest, when I saw you earlier, in your regular clothes it, reminded me, reminded us, that you have an entire life out there without us. I guess we just wanted to be a part of it, for a moment at least."

He starts to walk away, and you grab his wrist. He stops, looking down at the hold as you force him to turn back around. Standing on your tip toes, you tug on his collar so that you can press your lips to his.

It takes a second but Sun melts into the kiss, and you keep going for a few moments longer before you have to pull away for air.

You cradle his face, smile on your lips as you speak. "You guys are part of it, more than you know. And if you wanted more, you could've just ask, but I meant it when I said this was fun, you know."

"W-well, you could have said something too!" He sputters, making you laugh.

You rub your thumb against his cheek, sighing. "Yeah, fair enough."

After making things even for both attendants—which meant equal amounts of kisses and lots of turning the lights on and off—you finally head out for your holiday party.

You have a great time, and it's wonderful to see you friends, but on your way home you can't help but press your fingers to your lips, giggling at the memories of earlier in the night.

You suppose you got two parties—and two partners—for the price of one.

❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️

Thank you for the request @pip-plz!! As you can see I had a lot of fun with the boys being silly/jelly hehe

Thanks for reading!

Masterpost link

Tag list (if you would like added, see this post for more info, you can also dm me!):

@scarletcowboy @beemyhuneybee @fishm0ther @deviouscrackers @elsajoyagent8 @luckyyyduckyyy @zenkaiankoku @jogimote @local-shrub @milosmantis @robinette-green @everlightreader @sinister-sincerely @starredeclipse @dangerva @juukai @crystalmagpie447 @mothgutz236 @lizyxml @divinit3a @amarynthian-chronicles

#fnaf dca #dca fandom #fnaf daycare attendant #fnaf sun #fnaf moon #sundrop #moondrop #dca fic #x reader #mm dca december #love making them extra silly and clingy #it's so fun

50 notes · View notes