#i have never been more serious in my life about anything ever

[yanderedrabbles]

Yandere Neighbour - Noncon

With your electricity out and your devices dead, you have no choice but to turn to your neighbour for help. He's more than willing to welcome you into his home. Really, you're lucky he's such a nice guy.

Tags: male yandere x gender neutral reader, noncon, somno, just the tip anal, daddy kink but only if you squint, 3.3k words

Living in the middle of nowhere had its perks. Privacy. Untouched nature. Peace and quiet.

But after the third day with no electricity, those perks were starting to look pretty damn weak. Your fridge was sitting in an ever expanding puddle. Almost all your devices were dead. And if you had to take one more cold shower you were going to cry.

It was when you were digging through your drawer looking for desperately needed batteries that you found your neighbour's number. He'd offered it to you a little while after you moved in, and while you two were on friendly terms, you'd never actually spoken for longer than a few minutes. You sighed, looked at the 10% left on your phone and decided that desperate times called for desperate measures.

You: hey, it's me. I still haven't got any power. Do you mind if I come over to charge some stuff?

He replied almost instantly.

Unknown: aww that sucks

Unknown: come on over. I've got hot stew and a generator

Unknown: and you can take a hot shower too if you want

Score. And to think you found him intimidating at first. Just goes to show that you can't judge on appearances. You packed a change of clothes, your devices and the last tub of ice cream that wasn't totally melted. You'd find some way to properly pay him back but a tub of chocolate fudge double cream wasn't a bad way to start.

He was waiting on his porch when you pulled up. A bear of a man in a flannel and blue jeans, a five o' clock shadow darkening his jaw.

"Howdy neighbour," he drawled, opening your door for you while you grabbed your stuff. "Regretting leaving the city yet?"

You huffed a laugh. "You do NOT want to know the answer to that."

His cabin was much larger than yours, a two storey behemoth with wide windows and exposed beams. It had a rustic charm - like some natural park Air BnB where they charged a weeks pay for just one night. A little too big for just one man. Didn't he get lonely?

"I brought some ice cream and chocolate to say thank you. And also because it miiight have been melting."

He opened the door for you and ushered you through with a hand on your lower back.

"Hell, I'll never say no to something sweet."

There was a fire burning in the fireplace and a stack of logs in a crate next to it. He was so much better suited to this life than you were. He locked the door behind you and slipped the keys into his pocket.

"Old habit," he explained with an easy grin.

"Why don't you get settled? I'll plug your stuff in."

You handed over your tech with a relieved sigh.

"Thank you. Really. I'm so behind on work already and I haven't heard anything back from the power company."

"I wouldn't hold my breath," he said. "Once ended up going a week straight with not even a light bulb flickering."

You winced. "It gets that bad?"

"Yep. Especially in winter. Gets dangerous then too."

He tilted his head at you, concerned. "You need to get yourself better sorted before it starts snowing. I hate to think of you stuck out there when the blizzards start rolling in."

God, could you be any more of a city slicker? You rubbed your neck, embarrassed.

"Thanks. I've been here a few months now and I guess I just didn't realise how serious things can get."

"It's all good. But if I'm honest, I get worried thinking about you out there all alone. Plenty of drifters end up passing through. Not a good place to be alone, not for a little thing like yourself."

Little? You wanted to feel indignant, but looking at his bulk, you reckoned that most folk probably seemed little to him.

He lead you to the fireplace and poured you a mug of coffee from the pot that was waiting for you. He jerked his head at the hunting rifle on display above the mantle.

"I can teach you to shoot, if you've got some free time."

You took a sip of the coffee, internally debating with yourself. You could see the sense in your offer but you weren't a big fan of guns. Hell, just being around them was nerve wrecking enough. Maybe -

You looked down at your mug in surprise.

"This is some really good stuff."

The coffee was strong, bitter in the best sort of way. You could catch a hint of chocolate in it too. Just sweet enough to make your toes curl.

" 'Course. Only the best for my guest. Help yourself to another cup. I'll just put your stuff on charge and be right back."

You finished your drink in a few sips and happily poured a second serving. Hot coffee... man, you didn't think three days without it would be so tough. Usually, you were pretty sensitive to caffeine. But by the time your neighbour came back, your head was tilted back and you were half asleep.

You tried to shake yourself out of it but he just laughed and pushed you back down.

"You probably haven't had a good sleep since the power went out. Just rest. We can talk once you wake up."

"I'm sorry..."

"It's fine." His hand was still on your shoulder, thumb rubbing small circles into your neck. "It's just fine with me."

You drifted off after that. Into a deep sleep without any dreams. Waking up was like slogging through molasses.

"Finally up sleepy head?"

It was dark outside and your neighbour was on one knee in front of the fire place, coaxing fresh wood to catch.

You sat up slowly. Your muscles ached and there was a strange, salty taste on your tongue.

"My heads killing me..."

He stood, poker still in his hand. "You must be starving then. I've already got some food on the stove. You'll feel better after you eat."

You didn't feel hungry at all. If anything, you felt almost hangover.

"Thanks," you managed. "I'm sorry to be such a bother."

He waved you away. "I don't mind a bit."

He came back with a bowl of steaming hot chow and stood with his arms crossed on the back of your couch while you ate.

"It's real late. I reckon you should stay over. I don't want you driving on dirt when it's so dark."

"Oh, it's fine. I've already put you out so much."

"Don't be silly. I insist."

You shivered without meaning to. That almost growl, low and bordering on menacing. It was so familiar, so...

"Just like that. Look at you, half asleep and still desperate for my cock."

"You like the taste? Yeah, I bet you fucking do."

"Ain't just gonna use your mouth next time."

You squeezed your eyes shut. Where the hell was this coming from? Were you remembering some sick dream from this afternoon?

"You okay there neighbour?"

You nodded. "Just my head."

Maybe he was right. Driving when you were so disorientated was just asking for trouble.

"If you really don't mind... I'll be happy to sleep over."

He laughed, a deep, rumbling thing. "I'll make the guest room up special, just for you."

"Could I use your shower too?"

"I offered didn't I? Come on, I'll show you where it is."

He took you to the master bedroom and jerked his thumb at the en-suite.

"Hot water is the most reliable in there. Door doesn't close that well though, so don't mind it. I'll be downstairs when you're done."

You brushed your teeth carefully. You lips felt sore, bruised in a way you couldn't explain.

You waited until you heard his footsteps going down the stairs before you stripped off your clothes. You stood under the hot water for a good few minutes, luxuriating in the feeling. The bathroom was thick with steam when you finally got to scrubbing yourself. The door was open just a crack and the bedroom beyond was dark. You forgot all about it until you heard the creak of the hinges.

You whirled to face the door, your hands coming up to cover yourself. The steam was too thick to see through. You called his name.

Nothing.

You stepped out with suds still on your thighs and pushed the door open. The room beyond was empty.

You sighed. God, you were being paranoid. Your neighbour was a great guy. It was unfair of you to treat him like a peeping tom when he'd gone out of his way to make you comfortable. It must have been just an errant draught.

You stepped back into the shower and rinsed yourself off. But no matter what you told yourself, you still kept an eye on the door.

When you went to change into your fresh clothes, you spent at least five minutes hunting for your underwear. Did you drop it somewhere? Oh, please say your undies weren't just sitting in the middle of his hallway. That would be beyond embarrassing.

Eventually you gave up and just decided to go without them. Not comfortable at all but still better than walking around in a towel to look for them. And much better than calling your neighbour in to help. Wouldn't that be fun? 'Hey neighbour that I don't know that well, you haven't seen my intimates lying around, have you?' Yeah, you'd never again get invited over after something like that.

When you were dressed, you found him already on his way up the hall. He was carrying a glass of water and some pills.

"Thought you might still have a headache, so I brought you some painkillers."

You paused, nervous but not sure why.

"Thanks." His hands dwarfed yours when he handed them over. You didn't recognise the name of on the pills, but they looked harmless. You tossed them back and gagged at the bitter aftertaste.

"They pack a punch, so tell me when you start to get drowsy."

"Aye aye captain."

You followed him to the guest room. It was at the very back on the second story, quieter than the rest of the house. A huge glass wall gave you a view of the forest disappearing into the darkness. You could see the ghost of your reflection in the glass, your neighbour a hulking, shapeless mass at your shoulder.

He took a seat in an armchair across form the bed and stretched out his legs. You perched on the edge of the mattress, still feeling a bit like an intruder.

"How long have you been staying out here?” you asked.

He smiled at you, teeth glinting almost wolf-like. "Got you curious?"

"A little. Folk in town say they hardly see you. I don't know... I'm just wondering if you ever get lonely."

He was quiet and you cursed yourself for being so nosy. You hurried to fill the silence.

"It's just that I get a bit lonely out here too. 'Specially when it's so quiet. And I guess I was wondering if it's the same for you."

He smiled at you, rueful. "At times. Used to be worse, but I've got a new interest to keep me occupied nowadays."

"Oh yeah? What?"

"Bird watching."

"Really? What do you look for?"

The way the room was lit up, you couldn't see his eyes. They fell into shadow and you only had his lips to read his emotions by. He smirked, slow and almost mocking.

"Just one bird I look out for. Flighty little thing. Tends to get caught by predators a lot. You’d probably recognise it."

The polite thing to do would be to ask what it was called. You didn't. Some part of whispered that you wouldn't like the answer.

You must have been quiet a little too long because he took it as his cue to leave. He stood, a mountain of muscle, his eyes not quite as nice as they seemed that afternoon. A trick of the light, surely. He wouldn't hurt a fly.

"You rest up. Got a busy day tomorrow."

"G'night."

He was gone before you thought to ask what he meant. And you were passed out on your pillows before you realised it. He was right. The pills sure did pack one hell of a punch.

You were aware of a shadow at the end of your bed. You weren't fully awake, and your limbs were slow and heavy with more than just sleep.

"Who..."

The shadow reached down and one warm paw circled your ankle.

"Just me little bird."

You knew that voice. It was the voice that brought you warm food and invited you in from the cold. You could trust it. Could go back to sleep and not worry about anything.

'No,' some part of you hissed, 'He's not as safe as you think.'

"Cold..."

The shadow laughed and it was the laugh of the fox finding the rabbit's den. Nasty. Hungry.

"Cold huh? Don't worry baby. I'll warm you right up."

He yanked your ankle towards him and your whole body slid down the bed. You were too drowsy to stop it.

"Knew you were gonna be mine the second I saw you," he cooed, hands running up your thighs.

His fingers slipped under your waistband, nails scraping your hip bones.

"Dumb little thing from the city. Doesn't even realise I've tripped all their breakers. That's why you don't have power baby. It's all me."

His fingers were as big as the rest of him. Thick, meaty. Skin rough from working outdoors. You whined when his fingertips scraped the edges of your hole.

"No underwear. You needy slut. That's practically a written and signed invitation to fuck you."

He pulled your pants down to your ankles and pushed your knees up to your stomach. And you were too out of it to stop him. Limp and pliable as a fuck doll.

Your tight ass was exposed to the cold air, entirely at the mercy of whatever he wanted to do.

"Cute." He circled his thumb around the rim, almost pushing in but not quite. "Wanted to be in this ass since you first showed up at my door all those months ago. Lookin' up at me all sweet. Fuck, it's enough to drive a man to desperation."

He lowered his head and you could feel his warm breath washing over your thighs.

He dragged his tongue across your hole. Some part of you must have been more awake than the rest, because your whole body jerked away from him.

"None of that," he cooed, hands digging into your thighs and dragging you back. "I haven't even gotten started yet."

He licked you again, deeper this time. The flexed tip of his tongue pushing at your entrance, and to your dull horror, actually slipping in. He moaned and you could feel the vibrations all through your crotch.

He pulled out and spat, rubbed it in with his fingers. One of them pushed in until the second joint, curling into your walls so rough that you gasped.

"Please..."

"Please what?" he mocked. "Please fuck my tight little ass? Please cum inside me? Use your words little bird."

"Please...stop..."

That made him laugh again, made him shove his finger in all the way to the knuckle. Twisting so cruelly as he pulled out and jerked back in.

"Stop? Stop? After all the work it took to get you here? No way baby. I'm not slowing down and I'm sure as fuck not stopping."

You heard the sound of his belt unbuckling, followed by a sharp intake of breath when he nudged his leaking head against your hole.

"You’re not going to remember this. And I'm not going to leave any evidence."

He pushed your legs tighter against your chest.

"So as much as I want to fuck you rotten, you're gonna have to be happy with just the tip."

He'd done a good job loosening and lubing you, but it still burned like a hot poker when he forced his way in. He groaned, almost in pain.

"You're fucking choking me. God, do you want my cum so bad?"

You could feel when the tip was in. That tiny difference in thickness between his head and shaft was oh so noticeable when your ass was clenching and fluttering around it. It was the smallest mercy, but mercy nonetheless.

He was panting from the effort of getting it in, the effort of holding back. The size difference between you almost perverse. Like a draft stallion trying to mount a pony. In every way, he was just too fucking big.

He spat in his hand and brought it to his cock, ran his palm up and down his shaft with sickly wet strokes. The combination of his palm and your squeezing ass was fucking delicious.

He had great stamina but fuck if it didn't feel like you were milking him.

He let go long enough to smack your ass. It almost finished him. You clenched around him so hard it felt like his tip was getting fucking crushed.

"Shiiiit, you're the best hole I've ever had. Can't wait 'til I can go all the way."

You whined, pitiful as snared prey. There were words there, though they were too slurred to make out. Something about Daddy and please and stop. He ignored you.

He pushed in a little deeper and watched your face scrunching up. So helpless, so fucking caught. That was what did it. The knowledge that he could do this to you at any point and you'd be helpless to stop it.

He came inside you, snarling through clenched teeth, his fingers digging into your thigh hard enough to bruise. You'd notice the marks in the morning and chalk it up to just being clumsy. But he'd know. He'd see the bruises peeking out from the hem of your shorts and his cock would twitch just a little at the memory of leaving them.

His cock pulsed. Shot strings of spunk deep inside you. You could feel it. Hot, too hot. Gross. Make it stop. Get it out.

He pulled out with a wet pop. His cum drooled down and he took a minute to work it back into you with his finger. Your hole was gaping just a little and it made his balls pulse. If he had the time...

"A real fucking mess. And on my good sheets too. You're a terrible guest."

He mopped up whatever cum remained with a balled up piece of martial that he pulled from his pocket. Even in you stupor, you recognised it as your missing underwear.

"Terrible guest, but the perks of having you around are pretty fucking sweet."

He dropped your knees back to the mattress, pulled your pants back into place and roughly yanked the duvet over you. He grabbed your jaw and smiled at the lost, drowsy look in your half open eyes.

"Got a big day tomorrow. Gonna wake up and find your whole house was flooded. Ruined. Gonna have nowhere to stay but with me."

He sounded smug. It made your guts twist.

Outside, the night grew quiet. A predator was hunting and most prey knew better than to catch its attention.

"I made sure of it. All your family and friends in the city are away from home. There's no one around to help you out..."

He tightened his grip just enough to watch the fear start dancing in your eyes.

"No one...except me."

He let you go and smiled that same warm, comforting smile from that afternoon.

"Dumb little thing. Got no clue how your water mains work, do you? Got no idea how easy they are to sabotage."

He tutted. "Got me so damn busy. I'm gonna have to run to your place, fuck shit up and be back here before you wake up for real."

He traced his index finger over your lips and left behind a sticky coating of spunk. You'd wake up tasting salt again, with no memory of why.

"But it's fine. I forgive you. After today we'll have plenty of time together. Rest of our lives in fact. So just sleep tight and forget what you think you've dreamed."

There are perks to living in the middle nowhere. Privacy. Untouched nature. Peace and quiet.

There are perks, but unfortunately for you, your neighbour isn't one of them.

[sailoryuns]

INAMORATA ─── PSH

genre. idol!sunghoon x model!f!reader | established relationship

warnings. angst, fluff (moreso towards the end), smut, accusations of cheating, hoon being lowkey toxic, cunnilingus, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, some mentions of crying, not proofread wc -> 1.5k

ps. the position i’m referring to is this (nsfw link), i usually hate vids but this was rly good imo.

“i think we should take a break...” you admit, voice growing shakier as you spoke. this was never something you wish to say in a million years, you wanted this relationship to work more than anything. but you were at your wits end with everything, talking to sunghoon was like conversing with the wall, never fully grasping any of your concerns.

you noticed the cracks beginning to seep in the midst of six months of being with him. he would often be dishonest of his whereabouts, saying he was out late due to “work” but was actually out drinking at some bar with jake or something. it made no sense for him to lie about such trivial things but he does it without even thinking. this was supposed to be a lovely vacation in paris together but lately you’ve grown tired of feeling like you’re unappreciated. a break from each other might be the best solution in getting his act together once and for all.

sunghoon felt his whole body turn limp as you uttered those words. not only was he blindsided by your decision, but you never indicated before to him that you were ready to propose such a drastic idea. “but why though? don’t you think this is a bit random? i mean this came out of nowhere y/n, i thought everything was good between us, why are you suddenly saying this now?” his thick, bushy brows furrowed in confusion, he wasn’t letting you off this easy and you know it.

“i just think it’s for the better right now hoon, we’re both so busy. we have a lot on our plate, especially you… and this relationship is just— it’s only putting more strain on everythi-”

“are you serious y/n? do you hear yourself? i knew what i was getting myself into the day i asked you to be my girlfriend. i’m well aware that i can’t be with you 24/7, and neither can you—however, i don’t expect that anyway. all i ever wanted was to have you by my side, i want to work through the hardships with you but if you’re so willing to give up like this then… i don’t know. i don’t even know what to say to this honestly..” sunghoon couldn’t help but cut you off, once his emotions take over, all sense of logic and reasoning is thrown out the window.

he was never one to question his worth in the eyes of his partner, but you were his longest relationship, he saw you as his first and only true love. it never occurred to him that he could lose you, the possibility of this break lasting long enough to make your love fade away was a scary revelation. there had to be a way he could fix this, he couldn’t bear to be without you.

“are you seeing someone else? maybe that’s why you’ve been so distant towards me lately…” he wanted to scream for saying that out loud but at least he got it off his chest. he knows how petty it sounds but he didn’t care, he wanted you to give him answers.

“no! i’m not seeing other people, i don’t have an interest in anyone but you sunghoon. i want to do this for the sake of us, we’re clearly not where we need to be and this break could help with getting us back on track and spending time apart could be beneficial.” you try your best to articulate your words properly but he remained unconvinced, he wasn’t on board with any bit of this.

how could you even be okay with something like this? spending time away from you drove him absolutely insane, he couldn’t fathom taking a break—not from someone as important as you in his life. he just needed to remind you that the love was still there, though it may be but a dull flame, he could ignite the spark again, with the little bit of hope he had left.

the foundation of your relationship was built from shared interests, since you both are part of professions that rely heavily on looks, you refused to see each other based solely off those superficial aspects. instead you got to know each other’s minds, your core values and beliefs, what mattered to you the most. you cherished every one of those deep conversations you shared together, it was a beautiful experience, an indescribable memory that shaped your bond forever.

so why is it now that you feel this way? was he really that oblivious to everything? he should’ve done more to prevent this but now he fears it’s too late. he’s faced with the conundrum of losing you and there wasn’t much time for him to stall or ask for a chance of redemption, he couldn’t waste another second.

“fuck that,” sunghoon angrily spat, his face contorting into a look of pure disgust. “you’re not going anywhere.” he reaches out to grab your waist before you could walk away, aggressively pulling you into his chest.

no matter how much you attempt to escape his hold, he’s not letting you go in the slightest. he’s much stronger than you, could easily lift you up without breaking a sweat. there was no use in fighting, you had no choice but to give in and let this conversation go. once his lips crashed into yours, everything faded to black. as if a simple kiss was the cure-all of mending this decrepit relationship.

sunghoon’s forehead pressed against yours as he pulled away, “shhh, lye down baby,” he hushes your quiet mewls, instructing you to do as he says. “gonna make you feel so good,” his hands slid under your skirt, gently rubbing over your clothed core “you’ll forget everything.”

* :.･ﾟﾟ･ ✿

“oh my- fuckk, sunghoon!” you cry out, almost on the verge of tears just from how skilled he is, rutting your hips upwards into his mouth as he devours you whole.

the pace of his tongue is relentless, roughly lapping up all your juices like he’s the most starved man alive. you’ve lost count at the amount of times he’s already made you come undone just from his mouth alone. your body’s buzzing with titillation, all you can do is scream and clench your pussy around nothing while he fiercely sucks on your clit.

you couldn’t stop twitching, feeling yet another orgasm approaching. your legs anchored over his shoulders, unable to think or speak coherent sentences as his face was fully buried into your sloppy cunt. he relaxes his jaw a bit more, going all the way from the bottom inching further up as he comes back in contact with your puffy clit. at any given moment it feels as if your heart’s about to stop.

“hoon-” your heads thrown back into the pillow, digging your nails into his shoulder blades from how overly sensitive you are. “n-need to cum.. can feel it. m’so close.” it surprises you when you’re able to even express such words.

a low grunt can be heard underneath, sunghoon loves hearing you— it’s arguably the best part about going down on you. the hand that wasn’t occupied went straight to gripping a fistful of his ebony hair, continuously moaning his name so loud that you genuinely feel bad for whomever the unlucky people that got to hear this.

just when you thought it couldn’t get anymore intense, he slips 2 of his slender fingers inside, making you gasp from the overwhelming sensation. flashes of white invade your vision, violently shaking as your lips form an “o” in the throes of ecstasy. sunghoon knows your body so well that this is nothing for him, he’s got it all down to a simple science. no one knows your body like he does, and especially no one can make you cum as hard as he can.

“go ahead, make a mess for me baby,” he strongly encourages, picking up his pace as his digits fuck into you faster. “just gonna clean it up with my tongue all over again.”

your eyes roll back to the depths of oblivion, feeling an out of body experience when reaching your climax. a string of curses leaves your shaky breath, limbs trembling and faint tears stain your flushed cheeks. sunghoon slows his movements, rubbing his thumb over your clit gently to make you even more sensitive. you love the way he calls you “good girl” and how proud the look on his face becomes while you ride out your orgasm on his fingers. he doesn’t stop showering you with compliments, only ramping up his affection as he plants fleeting kisses to your thighs, hips, and stomach.

once he’s finally come back up for air you grab his face to pull him into your lips again. moaning in his mouth while getting a taste of yourself was probably the hottest thing sunghoon’s ever witnessed.

“can’t believe this is all mine.” sunghoon whispers against you, gently massaging your aching thighs. “i love you so much, baby.”

“love you too hoon.” you instantly say back, feeling more at ease now that things are somewhat back to normal.

maybe a break isn’t necessary after all, how else would you be able to have such earth shattering orgasms?

- 完 ♡︎

[treatbuckywkisses]

It's happened she LITERALLY did this for ME🥺😭 

the warning............ already has my stomach tense as fuck🫠

Thor is such a sassy king in this LOLL dramatic man with power 😮‍💨

A formal gala, with Bucky dressed up in a suit and you in the most alluring dress in your closet, could be the perfect place to earn a second warning. LMAOOOO YOU GO BABE !!!!!! 

“Okay darling, they’re closed.” He plays along, knowing that when it comes down to it, he would do anything you ask him without contest because it’s for you. My God shutup this whole encounter between them is literally the most freaking precious thing EVER☹️☹️

Bucky’s fearful that you won’t actually believe his statement, even though they are perhaps the most honest words that have ever left his lips. It’s no secret that before he met you, Bucky had enjoyed sleeping around - had entertained more than his fair share of attractive women in his bed, but after just one month officially as your boyfriend, becoming intimately familiar with your beautiful soul, he has zero doubts that you are the only woman he wants in that position for the remainder of his life. Em I'm SICK this is everything☹️❤️

You playfully slap his chest, giving him a kiss on the cheek, and then proceeding to rub your lipstick stain off, before pushing him along to get you a drink. He looks back at you as he walks away, almost bumping into the Chief of Surgery, apologising profusely with a guilty glance to you, before he shuffles off towards the bar. THE LOVE THEY HAVE IM SCREAMING 😭😭

“Months… how much can someone really change in a couple of months? There’s so many of us around the hospital he’s fucked. You really think he’s loyal to you?” You recoil at her words, not having expected the conversation to turn into whatever this was becoming, nor so soon into your small talk. I just gasped so loudly.............what a bitch 

“You don’t know him like I do and have no right to speak about him like that.” You state firmly with a small humph. If you weren’t at an event packed with your colleagues, you’d slap her. YESS STANDING ON BUSINESS BABY 

Coming to a compromise, your brain instead decides that being frozen in place, unable to look away like an impending car crash, is the best place for you to be. But that is also pure torture. this is so realistic😔 poor baby I'm feeling so bad for her rn

What if you are just Bucky’s practice run at being in a relationship, the one who fixes him up, teaches him all the valuable lessons, only for him to leave you and be the perfect partner to someone else? UGH EM the writer that you are !!!!! Seriously!!! The self doubting and silent spiral is so me lol so I can confidently say you wrote this out so well ❤️‍🩹 

There’s a split second where the whole world stands still, everyone at the gala other than the two of you disappear and it’s like you’re standing right in front of him, regardless of the space separating you. Their love 🥺🥺🥺 I will never be over them 

You lean your head on Bucky’s shoulder as he continues to rub your back. Why can’t the world just exist like this? Just the two of you in peaceful, quiet, solace. He kisses the top of your head and in that moment you know he’ll wait patiently, all night if that’s how long it takes, for you to explain how you’re feeling. I'm going to cry over this forever 

YOU'RE MY FUTURE YOU'RE MY EVERYTHING BE SO SERIOUS RIGHT NOW EM 

Fracture into a million pieces, the fabric of reality tearing apart at the seams around you as euphoria flows through you like wind on the surface of water. Every single cell in your body feels like it’s been lit on fire, burning bright like a shooting star soaring through a galaxy assembled by your love for him.  How actually dare you write this

“I love you.” Bucky confesses with a shaky breath, even though he is assured in his affection. Though you’re not conscious to receive his words, something about disclosing his most closely guarded secret to your beautiful face, finally admitting his profound feelings aloud, feels like an enormous step for him. Never in a million years did he think he could open his heart up far enough to allow space for these types of feelings to nestle within. “You are the most precious thing in my life. I’m never going to compromise what we have, never going to take you for granted. I’m going to love you and only you for every day I have left in this life and even when I’m no longer here, my soul will forever be yours.” A SLEEP CONFESSION I'M SO SICK HES SO FUCKING PRECIOUS 

A male paramedic was shot.  ........I know you did not do what I think you did.......... 

And then you see it. The thing that flatlines your heart. No.

You try not to break down seeing the sheer amount of blood, Bucky’s blood, soaking the gauze they are pressing into his shoulder wound, how pale and fragile he looks strapped down to the gurney. You’re an emergency medicine doctor, you’ve treated wounds like this before, confronted much more blood than this from a patient. But nothing in your training prepares you for observing your soulmate barely clinging to life, their claret staining your gloved fingers as you help maintain pressure, how cold his skin is to the touch, how his face looks almost serene even though these could be his final moments on earth, that he could be abandoning you for the warm embrace of death.   No simply no what the fuck hey what the hell 😃 em what the fuck! My heart is in my asshole right now you're so evil what the fuck is this babe!! (This is really written so beautifully but I'm mad at you currently) 

James Barnes simply wouldn’t exist anymore. STOP??????????? DON'T SAY SHIT LIKE THAT WHAT THE FUCK. 

You’d never hear his voice again. Or his laugh. I'm literally sobbing RN

Neither comes. You are fated to live in excruciating limbo, your lungs burning, as if you can’t take a breath until Bucky’s destiny has been sealed. Me fkin too 😭😭😭😭😭 

So I'm basically feeling all stages of grief RN but mostly denial🫶🏻 I simply refuse to believe you would do this to ME SPECIFICALLY?????? HOW DARE YOU😭😭😭 YOU GIVE ME ALL THE BEAUTIFUL THINGS SO WONDERFULLY AND LOVEY AND SOFT AND PERFECT AND THEN TO RIP IT ALL AWAY SO FORCEFULLY LIKE I'M THE ONE BEING SHOT WHAT THE HELL EM RESPECTFULLY WHAT THE FUCK. talk about a twist bc I was in denial from the beginning I really was thinking you'd make it Steve to throw us off but no she had to go and pull the trigger on my fucking man I'm so sick rn I'm going to bed until bucky wakes up.

In Situ

[He’s Hazardous To My Health Series]

Paramedic!Bucky Barnes x Resident!Fem!Reader

< < PART 8 | Series Masterlist

In Situ - meaning in the natural position (ie. Bucky’s place next to you)

Summary: You ask Bucky to accompany you to the hospital's fundraising gala.

Warnings: strictly 18+, unprotected soft loving sex, creampie, graphic depiction of gunshot wounds & significant bleeding to a major character, a bit of angst as they struggle to reveal their feelings, will we finally get an ‘I love you’??, certain ex-fling of Bucky’s makes an appearance, this part has a bit of everything, fluff, angst, smut all rolled into one; I will apologise in advance you have every right to hate me given the ending of this

Word count: a whopping 10.3k (buckle up)

A/N: this part is dedicated to the wonderful @treatbuckywkisses and @yenzys-lucky-charm, I haven’t updated this series in so long and I genuinely thought no one would care about it being incomplete but you both have left such sweet comments on the other parts that inspired me to continue with my vision for paramedic!bucky, so I hope you both enjoy my darling friends 🩵 banners by @vase-of-lilies

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It’s the start of a very long shift when the person you least want to encounter, Dr Thor Odinson, approaches you with a glowering expression which looks like the most accurate embodiment of ‘I would rather be anywhere else’.

You would rather quite literally be in any other room of the hospital than in trauma room 2 right now, but as your direct superior, you have to constantly take direction from the same man who tried to compete with Bucky for your affection, and then blacklisted you at work after you turned him down.

“Before you say no to this, I need you to know this is a requirement of your employment here and you cannot get out of it, no matter how much you might want to.” Thor states with the same amount of joy as if he were inviting you to a funeral. His hands fidget almost unconsciously with a sealed envelope as he speaks, before offering it to you with a firm, outstretched hand. “Believe me, I’ve already tried.”

You consider him for a moment, his eyes not quite meeting your examining gaze and nervously grinding his back teeth. Taking the envelope, you notice your name written in messy, scrawled handwriting on the front.

“Not sure why I wouldn’t want to, whatever you’re inviting me to sounds like the absolute time of my life.” You jest in an effort to diffuse the tension between you. Thor, however, doesn’t seem to find it funny as rather than a chuckle, you elicit the most forced eye roll you’ve seen in a while.

“It’s a fundraising gala, mostly for the research labs associated with the hospital, but part of the proceeds go to supporting patients without healthcare who otherwise would not afford our help.”

Though the thought of contributing to those of the community who are less fortunate, and find themselves in the unfortunately common situation of being in debt to a healthcare system which was designed to further cripple the already vulnerable, the lack of enthusiasm Thor is conveying during the conversation makes you wary of what important information you’re likely missing about the event.

“You’re allowed to bring a plus one.” He adds with a rising inflection, almost as if it’s a question rather than a statement.

Silence falls between you two, and for a moment you fully believe Thor is waiting for you to confirm whether you will be bringing Bucky as your date, which would just make this uncomfortable encounter even more awkward, but thankfully he speaks again before you need to say anything.

“You’ll be representing the ED, and more importantly the hospital, at this event. You and whomever you bring better be on your best behaviour, I don’t want to have to write you up again.” A smirk curves on your face as he walks away. Although there is a finality to his voice in which you know you won’t get out of this work event, Thor has reminded you of the very public display of affection Bucky showed you in the emergency room which had earned you an official warning from hospital HR.

A formal gala, with Bucky dressed up in a suit and you in the most alluring dress in your closet, could be the perfect place to earn a second warning.

* * *

The night of the Gala, Bucky knocks on your front door, feeling rather uncomfortable in this taut suit with the unnatural feeling of the shoulder pads compressing against his already broad shoulders.

He tries adjusting them as he waits, he wants to look his absolute best for you, to rival even a fraction of the radiance he’s sure you will exude tonight. But they feel even more out of place now he’s fiddled with them and regrets the decision until he hears the pattering of your footsteps behind the door.

“You have to close your eyes before you come in.” You call out to him in a playful voice, without opening the door. “I’m not ready yet.”

Bucky’s positive that in any state of undress or stage in the process of getting ready you are the most beautiful girl in the entire world, but a warmth spreads through his chest at the notion you’re wanting to look your best for him.

“Okay darling, they’re closed.” He plays along, knowing that when it comes down to it, he would do anything you ask him without contest because it’s for you.

Bucky hears the lock click as it opens and a small giggle, before the light pressure of a pair of lips on his.

“No peeking.” You request as you take his hand and lead him inside. Bucky knows your place like the back of his hand already and doesn’t need his eyes open to know that you take him towards the couch. “I’ll be right back, don’t you go anywhere.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” With each beat of Bucky’s heart his anticipation of seeing you only grows. He’s seen you in every way imaginable, naked and writhing for him, vulnerable with sickness, beaming with pride and joy, and yet every time he sees you he is continually flawed by how stunning you are in every scenario.

“Buck, you can open them.”

Bucky is simply lost for words. Never in all his life has he been in the presence of someone so utterly breathtaking. Looking at you now, practically radiating golden light, a brilliant smile tugging at the corners of your mouth, and your body looking downright heavenly in a form fitting dress which compliments the colour of your eyes, Bucky believes angels do actually exist.

“You are so beautiful.” He manages to stammer out once he’s picked his jaw up off the floor.

“Not as handsome as you in this suit.” You grip the lapels of his jacket to pull him even closer to you, straightening his tie in an action that overwhelms Bucky with a need to kiss you.

“What, this old thing?” He attempts to brush off your flattery, because next to you, there is positively no way anyone could compete with your beauty.

Bucky gulps the excessive saliva pooling in his mouth as his eyes roam your frame once again, because he can’t help but literally drool over how stunning you look - can’t believe that he gets to be the one who walks into the gala tonight with you on his arm.

The only other time he has felt this utterly floored by someone’s appearance was the first time he laid eyes on you as you strolled across the ER on that now historic day when he could not believe someone in scrubs and a lab coat could look so breathtakingly beautiful.

“You are genuinely the most gorgeous woman I have ever laid eyes on.”

Bucky’s fearful that you won’t actually believe his statement, even though they are perhaps the most honest words that have ever left his lips. It’s no secret that before he met you, Bucky had enjoyed sleeping around - had entertained more than his fair share of attractive women in his bed, but after just one month officially as your boyfriend, becoming intimately familiar with your beautiful soul, he has zero doubts that you are the only woman he wants in that position for the remainder of his life.

You kiss him in the breath after he finishes speaking, in that luscious, sensual way that no one else has ever kissed him and evokes a warm, fuzzy, almost life-ruining devotion, dare he say love, in his chest.

“Let’s just stay here tonight.” Bucky mumbles against your lips, his hands finding the zipper on the back of your dress and slowly unzips to let the fabric fall from your décolletage.

He can feel you smile against his lips but then you bruise his heart by pulling away and saying “As much as I would prefer to spend the whole night naked here with you, I’ve already been told I cannot miss this event.”

However, they aren’t words which scare Bucky away from a challenge, he dives back into the kiss, the tip of his tongue tangling with yours. He thinks he has you convinced when your hands start playing with the hair at the nape of his neck - you know how much he likes it and do it constantly to turn him on, but then you pull back and Bucky sighs.

“You’re insatiable, aren’t you?”

“Only when it comes to you.” He responds with a chuckle. You’re the only woman who’s ever had him whipped before, and Bucky’s not sure you realise how powerful the hold you have over him is.

“I promise, all we have to do is last an hour at this thing, and then you can take me home and have your way with me.”

* * *

You walk into the Gala, which is already packed with hospital staff dressed to the nines, hand in hand with Bucky who, in your opinion, looks magnitudes more handsome than any of the other men all dressed in black suits.

You turn to him and he’s already looking at you with that sparkle in his eye, like you’re absolutely perfect, just as you are, and there is nothing about you he would ever dream of changing.

“What?” You ask when those twinkling eyes don’t look away, but instead study your features as if there’s words left unsaid on the tip of his tongue.

“Just imagining pulling you into one of the on-call rooms, tearing this dress off you and tasting every inch of you.” Bucky shifts his hand to rest on the small of your back, his breath warm against your ear sending a shiver down your spine.

“Well, we have done some of our best work in there.” Bucky hums in agreement, both of you taking a second to remember the first of many visits to the on-call room which left you with shaking legs, but was also the first time either of you acknowledged that your feelings were deeper than simply hooking up. “I think you need to grab us both a drink to quench that thirst of yours, James.”

You playfully slap his chest, giving him a kiss on the cheek, and then proceeding to rub your lipstick stain off, before pushing him along to get you a drink. He looks back at you as he walks away, almost bumping into the Chief of Surgery, apologising profusely with a guilty glance to you, before he shuffles off towards the bar.

While Bucky is busy with that task, you instead make your way over to the other side of the atrium to take a look at the items available for the hospital's silent auction. You have to chuckle to yourself looking at the prices listed on the bidding sheets - as if anyone with medical school debt could afford to pay for even one of the allusive holidays or artefacts they had obtained for the fundraiser.

But you suppose your job tonight isn’t to bid on the items themselves, but to shmooze the wealthy guests in attendance into bidding with their spare millions.

Searching out one of the items at the lower end of asking prices, you decide to put an almost embarrassing low bid on an all expenses paid weekend to Mexico, that you know someone will outbid you on, just to say you participated in the night without needing to lie through your teeth.

You stroll through the busy hall, keeping your eyes peeled for Bucky near the bar but it seems you’ve lost him in the packed crowd. It’s usually fairly easy to spot your tall, broad boyfriend, and your heart sinks a little that you’re forced to walk aimlessly around the event as everyone else is wrapped in conversation.

“Doctor, lovely to run into you like this.” You hear a voice you’ve heard before but cannot place from behind you. And though you can’t actually see their face, the tone of their voice contradicts their words - they don’t seem pleased to see you at all.

Turning around, a face that evokes prickly apprehension in your chest comes into view. She’s hauntingly beautiful, the type of beauty which artists spend hours trying to commit to canvas and which is just not attainable for regular people like yourself. She holds herself like she’s closing out a Victoria Secret fashion show and is fully aware of the enchanting effect she has on any man who sets eyes upon her.

“Jacqui… I didn’t know pharmacy staff were invited to this thing.” Even with her disagreeable inflection, you do your best to sound pleasant.

“Oh well you are when you’re heading up the department.” She boasts, with a little wobble of her head which you mostly think is to draw attention to her shiny, voluminous blonde hair.

So is she just here to rub her new job title in your face?

“Congratulations, I didn’t know you got promoted.” You try to sound genuine even though you really couldn’t give a shit.

“I saw you walk in with Barnes. Where did he scamper off to?” You are now actually very glad to not have found Bucky in the crowd earlier. Something about the way she is trying to control the curiosity in her voice, and that she was actively watching the two of you together, makes you cautious of her intentions.

“Not sure, I was just looking for him.”

There’s a long pause where both of you refuse to be the next one to speak. You just want this conversation to be over. But you aren’t that lucky.

“How long have you two been together now?” The inquiry is almost punctuated with sharp spite, and though you don’t want to indulge her line of questioning, there’s a voice in the back of your head that’s telling you you need to defend your Bucky from whatever that time is implying.

“A couple months.” Is the defensive response you retort - it’s technically correct, though you’ve only been official for a month of that.

“Months… how much can someone really change in a couple of months? There’s so many of us around the hospital he’s fucked. You really think he’s loyal to you?” You recoil at her words, not having expected the conversation to turn into whatever this was becoming, nor so soon into your small talk.

Where the fuck was this coming from?

“I trust him implicitly.” You attempt to control the absolute bewildered facial expression that’s trying it’s very best to overtake your features.

“Oh you poor, naive thing.” She says with a tone you use when delivering bad news to patients' families. “Men don’t change, they just hide their true nature from you. Wait a few months, he’ll be back to his fuckboy ways, guys like him can’t resist cheating. I guarantee it.”

Most men are like that, at least in your experience. But Bucky has never given you any cause to believe he would treat you like that. Just because he had a reputation of casually sleeping around before meeting you, doesn’t mean once he’s in a relationship he’ll be unfaithful.

You can’t imagine the sweet man who walked into your place tonight with his eyes closed, waiting for your consent to see you fully dolled up in your gown and then proceed to call you the most beautiful woman he has ever laid eyes on, would ever cheat on you.

“You don’t know him like I do and have no right to speak about him like that.” You state firmly with a small humph. If you weren’t at an event packed with your colleagues, you’d slap her.

The look in her eyes appears like you’ve challenged her, but you don’t want to think about the connotations of that right now. Without saying goodbye, you turn on your heel, needing to get as far away from her as quickly as possible.

Rippling anxiety bubbles in your chest that in your experience only Bucky’s touch can soothe. You frantically search for him in the sea of black suits, trying to also keep half an eye out for Jacqui so you don’t accidentally run into her, but he is again nowhere to be found.

Where the hell is Bucky? Your mind practically screams as you bump into a strapping chest, but this one unfortunately belongs to the one and only Thor Odinson.

God, could he have worse timing?

You plaster on your best smile, trying your best to keep a calm facade as he introduces you to two older gentlemen he appears to be chaperoning for the night.

As wealthy and influential as they are, having made their billions from a tech empire started with a little trust fund from their families' generational wealth, you can’t find it in you to care at the minute. You just want to find Bucky. Need him to hold you until the tornado of anxiety dissipates in your chest.

But Thor doesn’t allow you to slip away unnoticed, instead he prompts you to talk up the work the team does in the emergency room, speaking about the people you save from all walks of life, from those without health insurance to the affluent who can afford the life saving medical procedures others fail to receive.

Knowing their donations tonight could mean the difference between many getting life saving medicine and not, you summon the will to engage in conversation, trying to push down the acidic bile bubbling in your stomach that had risen as result of your interaction with Jacqui.

The sharp taste remains on your tongue as you’re now caught in philanthropic discussion, silently cursing Thor who stands beside you for ever inviting you to this damn gala in the first place.

It’s at least fifteen minutes later when you finally excuse yourself from their presence, the two men having pulled out their cheque books, much to Thor’s delight, preparing to make generous contributions that would have the hospital naming wards after them.

You hate to think what trouble Jacqui could get up to in that time frame. But you don’t have to wait long to find out.

Finally, after searching near the whole hall for Bucky you find him. Goddess like Jacqui by his side.

She stands there, supermodel tall, blonde bouncy hair, beautiful, toned legs on display through the slit in her dress, a flirty smirk curving on her face, tucking strands of loose hair behind her ears like a schoolgirl with a crush.

The nerve of her, approaching Bucky at all, but especially after the words spoken between you earlier.

Just seeing them together, the most exquisitely gorgeous woman flirting with the man whom you love and confirmed less than half an hour ago to her you are in a relationship with, makes your insides tightly twist with jealousy, as if someone were wringing out a wet towel.

Half of your mind is telling you to stalk over there and possessively claim your man in front of everybody, but the other half, the insecure side which believes Bucky could do so much better than you, who would want someone as beautiful as Jacqui by his side, and which is currently winning the battle in your mind, wants to run off crying into the furthest corner of the hospital.

Coming to a compromise, your brain instead decides that being frozen in place, unable to look away like an impending car crash, is the best place for you to be. But that is also pure torture.

Bucky smiles, not quite his signature cocky smirk that never leaves his face when the two of you are together, but it’s definitely a smile nonetheless and your heart sinks through the pit of your stomach.

Men don’t change. He’ll be back to his fuckboy ways.

You’re not sure why you’re letting Jacqui’s words penetrate your mind, burrow into the deepest crevices and allow them to make a home there. You suspect it’s because at one point in time Bucky thought she was desirable enough to take home and do unexplainably filthy things with. Does he still have that same attraction for her?

What if you are just Bucky’s practice run at being in a relationship, the one who fixes him up, teaches him all the valuable lessons, only for him to leave you and be the perfect partner to someone else?

Practically paralysed in place as you watch their interaction, it feels like your heart has stopped beating all together when Jacqui strokes his arm. But buoyant relief comes near milliseconds later when Bucky brushes her off. That’s your man.

You can’t hear what they’re saying, but you distinctly see him mouth the words ‘I have a girlfriend’, which relieves some of the tension in your tightly wound heart.

Bucky frantically searches around the room, and appears to have found what he is looking for as his eyes settle on your face.

There’s a split second where the whole world stands still, everyone at the gala other than the two of you disappear and it’s like you’re standing right in front of him, regardless of the space separating you.

But when your mind catches up to all the drowning emotions swirling in your chest, an uncontrollable sob bubbles up your throat and tears sting your eyes. You’re not even upset with him, but the fear of what Jacqui had been planning on trying with him still manifests as a choking lump in your throat.

The physical distance between you throughout tonight has let doubt and hesitancy creep into the only small space in your heart Bucky’s affection has not yet touched. Jacqui planted the seed and it’s already bloomed into a large tree, branches crowding space in your tightening chest.

The last thing you remember seeing is Bucky taking a large stride towards you, before your hands fly to cover your mouth and you take off, walking as quickly as you can in your heels, to where you know the nearest on-call room is.

* * *

Prickling panic fills Bucky’s lungs.

Has he inadvertently just ruined the best thing in his life?

Jacqueline’s voice calls his name as he chases after you, watching as you weave between guests and make your way to the nearest exit, which only takes you deeper into the hospital.

He was naive enough to think Jacqueline’s intentions were innocent when she approached him for conversation, just two colleagues catching up at an event that neither of them were fully participating in, but he was sadly mistaken.

He’ll never make that blunder again.

Watching you shuffle into the nearest on-call room, Bucky takes it as a positive sign that he’s not the one you’re upset with, at least not completely, when you don’t slam the door in his face but instead leave it open knowing he’ll follow you inside.

Bucky stays by the doorframe for a split second, watching as you work to steady your breathing, hands wiping the corners of your eyes, but the overwhelming urge and the need to comfort you wins out and he can’t help but hastily rush to your side.

“Darling…” He starts to say but when you look at him with big, wide eyes that are filled with tears, his mind goes blank and all he can think about is holding you.

You turn into his chest, face nuzzled into his lapel, and his arms instinctively close around you.

It’s the little sob which escapes your lips that does Bucky in completely. He hates to see you upset, but never in the months of knowing you has he been privy to this amount of genuine distress. He’s seen some not so great days, shaking frustration, even teary eyed with sadness, but never breaking down weeping.

He would move heaven and earth to ensure you never feel this way again.

He places a feather light kiss to your hairline whispering, “I’m right here. Nothing can hurt you.”

Though it was not his intention, his words provoke more sobs to escape your throat and Bucky pulls you ever closer. He’s practically holding up your entire body weight, and decides you’ll probably be much more comfortable on the bed this on-call room provides.

Even seated, you cling to him like he’s your lifeline, and Bucky can’t ever imagine letting go. He’d drown if it meant holding you safely out of the rough, relentless rapids currently flooding your mind.

As a paramedic, he’s so used to taking action, launching into a crisis with the equipment to be able to provide aid, to prevent further suffering. But right now all you need is his presence, to be the anchor grounding you to this world as a reminder that you have someone in your corner fighting for your happiness.

He hates not being able to do more for you.

“Can you tell me what’s wrong?” Bucky asks after minutes of comforting you without words.

God, you feel so stupid. Crying at a work function because one of your boyfriend's ex-flings decided to flirt with him.

But it’s more than that - it’s the disrespect, the fact that she seems so entitled to Bucky’s affection simply because at some point in his history he slept with her, regardless of if she hurts you along the way to get to him. Do all the women at the hospital look at you like you’re an inconsequential ant they can step on to get what they want?

It doesn’t help that she's also the most stunning, physical personification of a man’s wet dream you’ve ever seen.

“It’s not you Buck, it’s her.”

He doesn’t answer immediately, just continues rubbing his large hand up and down your back, which tells you he’s confused by your statement. Perhaps you’re not making any sense in this outburst of emotion, you can barely keep your thoughts in a logical stream let alone expressing them eloquently.

“Jacqui, she… I told her we were together, she knew I was your girlfriend, and she still had the nerve to flirt with you.”

“I didn’t flirt back.” Bucky says defensively, and as much as you adore him, it’s making you frustrated having to spell it out for him how her actions have made you feel when your throat is aching from pure emotion.

You take a deep breath, allowing oxygen to diffuse into the deepest alveoli of your lungs, calming the constant stream of anxious thoughts, and letting you regain control of the tears falling from your eyes.

You lean your head on Bucky’s shoulder as he continues to rub your back. Why can’t the world just exist like this? Just the two of you in peaceful, quiet, solace. He kisses the top of your head and in that moment you know he’ll wait patiently, all night if that’s how long it takes, for you to explain how you’re feeling.

“I don’t know if it’s jealousy or insecurity. I genuinely don’t care how many women you were with before me Buck, it’s just a number, it doesn’t matter.” You sit up and look him in the eye, needing to convey just how vigorously you believe your statement. “It’s just… it's a soul crushing feeling that people in the hospital, people I have to work with every day, use the fact that you’ve slept with them to make me feel uncomfortable. That somehow because they know what you look like naked it diminishes our relationship and then they feel entitled to flirt with you and try and fuck you even though they know you’re dating me.”

The misery in Bucky’s eyes is almost tangible, and maybe it’s just an illusion from tears in your own, but seeing you hurting makes him start to cry too. His large hands engulf both of yours and his thumb strokes the backs of your hands resting comfortingly in your lap.

Previous partners have always brushed you off, gaslit you or raised their voice and called you crazy when you expressed an ounce of self-doubt or insecurity, but Bucky listens to each of your words with a determined focus, taking the weight of them on himself, as if they have just as much significance to him as they do to you.

“Darling, I’m so sorry Jaqueline made you feel that way. She had no right. But you need to know there is not a single woman on the face of this earth that could tempt me away from you, no matter how hard they try. No one has ever had me like you do.”

The panic beating of your heart starts to calm when Bucky places gentle kisses to your knuckles. His eyes brim with trepidation, as if he’s just realised how fragile relationships can be and he’s desperately trying to hold onto you, preventing you from ever letting go again.

“I can’t change my past, as much as I might want to, but all I know is you’re my future.” Tears trickle out of the corners of your eyes, but now the reason being due to happiness at Bucky’s sweet confession.

What did you ever do to deserve him?

“My life before I met you was dull, black and white reruns of the same shit each day. Since I met you, everything is in vivid colour. If I could go back in time and wait for you, I would. If I knew you were around the corner, there wouldn’t be any other women. But to me, you’re the only woman that matters. It’s so profoundly better with you because I-, because I care about you beyond comprehension. There were never any feelings with anyone else. You are the only person I have ever felt this way for. You have nothing to be insecure about or anyone to be jealous of, you’re the only woman in my eyes, and I-, you’re my everything.” For someone who constantly says he isn’t very good with words, Bucky always seems to know exactly what to say to make you fall even more in love with him. They are perfect words. Precisely what you need to hear from the man who has quickly become the reason for your being.

There’s a buoyancy in your chest as those familiar eyes, so blue you could drown in, examine your face for any non verbal cues of how you’ll react to his words.

“You really feel that way James?” You ready yourself, inadvertently grinding your teeth, waiting, hoping, wishing for him to say those three little words that will take your relationship to the next level.

But that hope pops like a bubble floating in the wind.

“Darling, I would never lie to you.” He punctuates with a kiss to your lips, slow and fervent, full of meaning. The look in his eye tells you he wants to reveal more, but it passes in a blink. “C’mon, let me take you home, and I’ll show you just how much I care.”

Bucky’s firm hold on your hand never leaves yours as he leads you back through the gala. You notice some glance at you, but all you’re focussed on is your boyfriend, his head held proudly high, not giving a damn what other hospital staff are whispering under their breaths.

* * *

Bucky slowly unzips the back of your dress, the material slowly falling away from your shoulders. A shiver runs down your spine as his lips kiss down the path of the zipper, starting between your shoulder blades, careful not to miss a single inch of skin as your dress bunches around your stomach and hips.

“You were the most beautiful woman there tonight. You’re the most beautiful woman in the whole world.” He whispers against your skin, in such a sure tone you can’t help but believe him. His hands roaming over the base of your spine before gently pulling your dress over your hips. “Can’t believe I got to be the man who walked in with you as my partner.”

Bucky turns you around to kiss you once you’re bare for him. The passion, zealousness of his lips feels like you’re drowning in a tender devotion he could not articulate with just words themselves.

You don’t need to break away from the kiss to push his jacket off, unbutton his shirt, nor unbuckle his belt. He’s as hard as a rock, standing at attention ready for you as soon as his trousers hit the floor.

“My darling girl…” He practically growls in your ear when you cup his balls with one hand as the other starts stroking him, using your thumb to spread the pearly bead of precum over his tip whilst placing kisses to his chest. “This will be a very short, one act play if you keep doing that.”

“I’ve barely touched you Buck.”

“Mmm, I know. That’s just how much you turn me on.” The signature smirk he shoots you turns your stomach to mush, and makes you feel like you’re the dazzling sun at the centre of his universe.

Bucky’s large hands pull you down on the bed, on top of him. He sits you on his thick thighs, tongue sweeping into your mouth, hands exploring your every curve.

You wish you could live in this moment forever, relishing in how much care Bucky holds you with, but still manages to make you feel like you’re the sexiest woman in the solar system.

It hits you square in the chest when his soothing, wide blue eyes look up at you with a familiar tenderness that gives life to butterflies in your stomach, that you would do anything for the man underneath you, the man you love.

“What do you want, darling?” Bucky asks between breaths as he sucks on your hard nipple, his tongue swirling, doing magical things that could make you cum just like this. “What do you need?” He adds, switching to your other breast, which makes it hard to control your stream of thoughts - but there is one thing at the forefront of your mind that you don’t have to consider to know you need desperately.

“You.”

He lets out a groan around your nipple and you suspect thrusts his hips up involuntarily, just to feel closer to you.

“I need you Buck.” You repeat, tucking your finger under his chin and bringing his lips up to tenderly touch yours, as the urge to kiss him overcomes you. If it were up to you, the remainder of your life would be spent with your lips locked with his.

“How?” His stubble scratches the tips of your fingers as you cup his face. The desire brimming in his eyes, the hunger to ravish every part of you, the yearning to have you so close to him you can’t tell where you end and he begins, leaves you breathless.

“Just like this, please.” Your voice is barely above a whisper, but your imploring tone inspires Bucky on, not wanting to waste a single second more where the two of you are not joined.

Your forehead rests against his, his eyes boring into yours as he simultaneously uses one hand to assist you lifting yourself to hover over him, and the other to line his tip up to your dripping entrance.

An obscene sound from the back of your throat topples from your lips as you sink down on Bucky's cock. He doesn’t take his adoration filled eyes off you for a single second, even to blink, as he fills you up completely. A whine escapes his lips once you’re seated on his thighs, appreciating how your pussy is swallowing his entire, impressive length.

“You enjoy sitting on your throne?” You can tell he’s trying to tease, a mischievous twinkle in those deep blue eyes, but his voice quivers slightly, almost as if it’s strained, which you know him too well to realise is a dead giveaway for just how aroused he is.

How aroused he is by you.

That fact alone is enough for you to start grinding against him, hips moving back and forth, working up a rhythm that has you seeing stars and him groaning your name.

Both of his large, calloused hands are resting on your hips, helping you keep the tempo, making sure each rock of your hips results in your clit being stimulated against his pelvis. His lips find your collarbone, teeth scraping your delicate skin, the sensation of which clears your mind of any coherent teasing response you could have come up with.

“Fuck, look at you fucking yourself on me. You’re a fucking dream.” Bucky’s mouth is one of the most arousing parts of him, not only for what his lips and tongue can do to your body but also for the salacious words he speaks in that gravelly tone which turns you on just as much as his body does. “That’s it, fuck me darling, this cock is all yours.”

“Buck you’re so deep.” Is all you can think, all you can feel is how his length is nestled within you, how much he fills you up. You’re bursting because of how satiated you feel with him inside you, but Bucky’s musky, woody scent, as well as his warm, tender touch surrounds you from the outside, you feel like he’s everywhere all at once, and it brings you right to the brink of coming undone.

“Be a good girl and cum for me.” In this moment you want to give him everything you have, give him everything he’s asking for and more. His voice is gentle the next time he speaks, a murmur just for you, and matches the softness in his gaze. “It’s okay, I got you. Let go for me.”

Bucky sucks the pulse point on the side of your throat and it’s the complete end of you. You shudder, feeling safe caged in his arms as ecstasy fires up from the base of your spine through every neuron in your body, your toes curling, fingers scratching down Bucky's back - you can even taste it on the tip of your tongue as you scream his name.

Your legs shake uncontrollably, unable to continue your pattern of movement grinding down against him, but Bucky takes matters into his own hands by wrapping his arms around your waist and fucking up into you to prolong your high.

Once you’ve finally stopped seeing stars, your vision coming back into focus, all you can see is the adoration, pure captivation as he looks up at your sweaty form trying to catch your breath.

“That’s the most beautiful sight I’ve ever seen.”

No one’s ever looked at you like this before, as if you’re the only girl in the world, the only person that matters to them, the one who holds their fragile heart in the palm of your hands and trusts you not to break it.

A dangerous thought flashes through your mind - do you dare tell Bucky that you love him for the first time right now, in the middle of the throes of passion. You have always wanted to let him set the pace of the relationship - he was the one who wanted to take it slow, not rushing into anything, but you can tell by the blooming warmth spreading through your chest, you have never loved someone more than you love him right now.

Bucky reaches up and affectionately brushes his thumb over the apple of your cheek, and before you can think twice about if you truly want to confess your devotion in this moment, he’s kissing you again.

Before you can even recognise what he’s doing, his toned arms have engulfed you in a tight embrace, and without pulling out of you, he flips you onto your back, making sure your head rests gently on one of your pillows. His body weight presses you deliciously into the mattress, it feels like being tucked in securely with a weighted blanket that just so happens to look like a Greek god.

“Need to feel you cum on my cock again, it’s so fucking addicting.” Bucky practically growls in your ear, his breathing heavy. His long chestnut hair falls into his eyes, but it doesn’t prevent him from gazing at you with a tangible combination of awe and lust.

The thrust of his hips is downright sinful. You feel the longing absence of each inch of him as he pulls out, only for him to split you apart again as his hips snap forward. Bucky starts out slow, his fingers intertwine with yours, forcing your hands above your head, but when he starts placing open mouthed kisses on the underside of your jaw, his strokes pick up momentum.

James Barnes has you in a trance, caged in by the sheer size of him, each languid, sensual thrust into you tightens the knot twisting into shape at the bottom of your belly.

He’s so breathtakingly beautiful, the most gorgeous person you’ve ever laid eyes on. As his shining pupils fixate on the pleasure contorting your face you ponder if he is possibly thinking the exact same way about you.

The moans dripping from his lips, mixed with grunted curses, along with the telltale crease in his forehead, and the fact that his teasing mouth can’t come up with anything coherent is evidence of how close he is. But you know Bucky’s generous heart better than anyone, perhaps even himself, and you are sure he’ll be determined not to cum before you.

One of his large hands continues to pin your wrists down as the other moves to wrap your legs tighter around his waist. Then he has the fucking audacity to rub the pads of his fingers over your clit in tight circles. You’re so done for.

“Bucky, oh fuck… yes, just like that.” You manage to stammer out, barely able to move with his weight pinning you beneath him, knowing your body is hurtling towards an inescapable, forceful orgasm, and all you can do is feel as Bucky plays your body like a fiddle.

“Please, need you to… I can’t last like this.” You can feel the desperate, animalistic timbre of his deep voice in your chest and his hot breath against your neck. “Darling please.”

And then you shatter.

Fracture into a million pieces, the fabric of reality tearing apart at the seams around you as euphoria flows through you like wind on the surface of water. Every single cell in your body feels like it’s been lit on fire, burning bright like a shooting star soaring through a galaxy assembled by your love for him.

Bucky speaks your name as a prayer, a vow, a promise. Over and over again. A reminder that you are who he is coming apart for.

It almost makes you dizzy how lost he is in the feel of you, how his hands spread you open as far as your legs will flex, but then you hear the wanton whimper as he spills his orgasm inside you and it’s almost enough to make you cum again.

As your heart rates slowly return to normal, Bucky lays down beside you, cupping your face tenderly as his tongue slips once again into your mouth. You would have thought given the display of passion just produced he’d have had his fill of physical affection, but he continues to surprise you.

Who would have guessed that Bucky ‘doesn’t go on second dates’ Barnes would now be clinging to you like a koala, not being able to get enough of your touch.

* * *

“Sweet dreams Buck.” You whisper in that tired, yet sickly sweet tone that Bucky associates with the contentment of falling asleep beside you.

”They’ll all be about you.” He responds with a delicate kiss to your forehead, fingers tracing gentle lines up and down the expanse of your back.

“Then I wish you nothing but dirty dreams.”

He rarely dreams of anything else nowadays, but it makes him smile nevertheless that your minds think in such similar ways.

You really are the girl of his dreams.

Even more than that, if there was an expression which captured just how significant you had become intertwined in his life after a relatively short period of time. His brain could not have concocted someone as perfect as you, even in his wildest fantasies.

He holds you close to him in the total darkness as your breathing slows, but there are too many thoughts racing through Bucky’s brain for him to fall asleep.

Tonight was perfect. Complete, utter perfection. Not that he expects any less of a night spent with you.

So why, even after building the courage all week ahead of the gala, (and if he was honest with himself, since the week he swapped to be on the night shift with you), had he yet to utter those three magic words?

Steve would say there was one final wall around Bucky’s heart he had yet to pull down for you, to reveal his deepest darkest vulnerability that he could barely admit to himself, let alone the flawless woman who consumed his every waking thought.

The insecurity he had been plagued with since he was fourteen years old and his father had wished death upon him.

The fear that he is innately unloveable.

Just because he loves you in a way that influences his every decision, impacts every aspect of his existence, and alters the chemistry of his brain, doesn’t mean you are as hauntingly consumed by devotion as he is.

And even though the rational part of his brain tries reminding him you would not have shown such patience and stuck around as he clumsily attempted to manoeuvre being in a relationship for the first time if you truly did not want to be with him, that nagging insecurity is always at the back of his mind like a fog that won’t clear, doubting whether after everything he has endured, if he is deserving of being loved the same way he adores you.

But at some point Bucky knows he needs to find the bravery to take that leap, even if your possible rejection would be his ultimate downfall.

“Darling?” Bucky whispers as quietly as he can into the still night air. You don’t stir, nor do you respond, which is exactly what he’s hoping for. “Darling, are you awake?” He questions slightly louder so that you couldn’t help but hear him considering his proximity.

You continue to rest peacefully, lips slightly parted and breathing steadily, which is precisely how you always appear when sleeping beside him, but given the gravity of what he is about to reveal to you, Bucky has to be absolutely positive you’re in a deep slumber.

“Chicken butt.” He says randomly, hoping that if you are feigning sleep this will cause a crack in your rather convincing facade. But to his delight, your expression doesn’t change in the slightest, no muscle in your face so much as flinches, and Bucky is finally convinced.

He takes a deep breath, readying himself even though he knows you’re unable to hear him.

“I love you.” Bucky confesses with a shaky breath, even though he is assured in his affection. Though you’re not conscious to receive his words, something about disclosing his most closely guarded secret to your beautiful face, finally admitting his profound feelings aloud, feels like an enormous step for him. Never in a million years did he think he could open his heart up far enough to allow space for these types of feelings to nestle within. “You are the most precious thing in my life. I’m never going to compromise what we have, never going to take you for granted. I’m going to love you and only you for every day I have left in this life and even when I’m no longer here, my soul will forever be yours.”

You provide no response, features stay perfectly still, breathing rate doesn’t change. Which is of course exactly the reaction he’s hoping for while you rest, but he can’t stop his mind from wondering what your reply might be if you were awake; if you’d profess the words back to him, or if instead you’d recoil, shying away possibly because Bucky was moving too quickly.

Nevertheless, Bucky knows better than most that life can be painfully short, everyone has their expiration date, and you need to tell the people in your life how much you care about them before it’s too late.

“I love you.” He repeats with a smile and a kiss to your bare shoulder. Though he is navigating the all consuming, anxiety riddled, life ruining feeling of falling in love for the first time, Bucky knows with absolute certainty that he would go through it all again, one hundred times over, if it meant getting to spend his life with you.

But now for the difficult part - he has to say those three life changing words when you’re actually awake to hear them.

* * *

When the irritating ringing of your alarm wakes you up the following morning, a wave of disappointment washes over you. The night before with Bucky had been nothing short of memorable; complete with overflowing emotion, devotion, and no hint of apprehension from the man who had previously told you himself he wanted to take the relationship slow.

It was the most tangible display of pure love you have ever beheld.

But now, you lay alone in a web of cold sheets, Bucky’s place beside you unnaturally empty. When he has an early shift, typically he wakes you before he leaves, and at the very least gives you a kiss on the forehead, if not a much more intimate show of affection. But today, you have no recollection of being woken, no memory of his pillow soft lips on yours.

You find it takes a much more determined effort to get out of bed without an energising kiss from your Bucky.

The gala is the talk of the hospital, those who did not receive an invite interrogating everyone who attended for all the latest gossip. You hear your and Bucky’s names dropped a couple times in passing conversation, but all that does is remind you of the night before, and Bucky proclaiming his devotion to you while extracting a pleasure from your body no one else has been able to produce.

Tonight, you promise yourself, those three small words that have been tugging at your mind for the last month, tonight you’ll tell Bucky.

His declaration of wanting to take your relationship slowly was all the way back before your second date, before you officially became his girlfriend, before you held him as his mother underwent life saving surgery, before you knew of his traumatic past, before he switched to the night shift just so he could see you more often, before last night where he told you you are his everything.

Regardless of if he says the words back, you need to tell him. Need him to know that he is the love of your life, that synapses in your brain have reformed so your train of thought always comes back to him, that he has rewritten the molecular code inscribed in your cells so that they crave him like water, drawing him in like osmosis.

Your thoughts are interrupted by your pager going off, calling an all hands on deck emergency.

The ER is a frenzy of nurses clearing trauma rooms, doctors discharging patients who have already been seen to and Dr Strange shouting at surgical staff to prepare the operating rooms.

“There was a shooting at the mall. Police and paramedics are on scene, but it sounds bad.” Wanda fills you in as you both wash your hands and put gloves on, getting ready for the volume of blood and carnage that comes with gunshot wounds.

Dr Strange gathers the emergency medicine team together to brief you all on what you’re about to face. His face is stoic, having treated too many disasters to even seem phased by the decimation of so many lives.

You have not mastered that, but you also like having your humanity, caring about people is what you do best.

“So far we know of eight victims being routed here. There will most likely be more. All G.S.Ws, five women, two men and a child, about eight. One of the men was a paramedic on scene.” The last sentence out of his mouth gives you pause.

A male paramedic was shot.

“A paramedic? Did they say who? Give a description?” All eyes turn to you and no one needs to say it aloud to know exactly what you’re thinking.

“No, that’s all the information we have at this time. They should only be a few minutes out.” You’ve never known Dr Strange to be very sympathetic, but the look he shoots at you is what you assume to be the most compassion he is capable of.

The nagging part of your brain that always finds a route to the most devastating scenario, no matter how unlikely, is screaming so loudly you cannot ignore it.

What if that paramedic is Bucky?

There would have to be thousands of paramedics in a city of this size, what would the chances actually be that Bucky is the one paramedic in critical danger at this very moment.

But the universe has always found a way to be cruel to you, with the exception of when it brought devilishly handsome Bucky Barnes into your life. But what could be more cruel than introducing you to unconditional love and then destroying your heart by taking it away just as swiftly?

Wanda, sensing your paralysing worry beside her, comfortingly strokes her hand up and down your upper arm. “He was working the morning shift today, his shift will be well and truly over. He shouldn’t have been working when the shooting happened.”

“Yeah… he was on morning shift today.” Reminding yourself how you woke up in bed alone. Your lips tremble as you attempt to talk yourself down from the ledge of sheer panic. But your best friend can tell this fact doesn’t convince you.

“Call him.” Wanda instructs with a level voice, only a small glisten in her pupils gives away that she too is worried for his safety.

Your hands are shaking uncontrollably as you locate his contact in your favourites, accidentally dialling your mum first before you see the picture you have of the two of you together set as his contact pop up as it starts ringing.

Time stands perfectly still, the bustling hospital which is always full of movement, the constant beeping of patients pulse oximeters, announcements sounding over the PA, it all goes dead silent and all you hear is the ring tone of a phone call which Bucky isn’t answering.

Pick up. Pick up. Pick up.

It goes to voicemail, his voice filling your ears but it’s of no relief because it’s only a recording.

You press his contact again.

And again.

And again.

The fourth time you’re forced to listen to his infuriating voicemail, you leave a panicked message. “Bucky I’m so worried about you, please ring me back as soon as you get this. There’s been a shooting. Please, I need to hear your voice, hear that you’re alright. Please.”

You thought he’d pick up the phone and relieve you from this torment, but now knowing he hasn’t answered after multiple calls, you’re more convinced than ever it’s him that’s been shot.

“Wanda if it’s-”

“You can’t think like that.” But that's all you can think about. Your job, the duty you have to these patients who are en route to the hospital, none of that comes close to the need to know Bucky is unharmed.

The world starts moving in slow motion as the first of the patients arrives. Time runs like molasses, but the anxiety in your chest turns up one hundred fold, as if flashes of lightning strike your chest one after another.

A woman gets pushed in on a gurney, light brown hair stained with blood, and even from the sight of how the paramedic needs to hold her skull flap to her head to prevent her brain being exposed, you know she won’t make it as much as the surgeons will try to save her.

There’s a child, not much bigger than Sasha who you treated the day you first met Bucky, that gets pushed through next. In complete juxtaposition, she’s sitting up talking to paramedics, arm in a sling, but mostly looks unharmed.

And then you see it. The thing that flatlines your heart.

Chestnut hair and an EMT uniform.

You’d know those thick, wavy locks anywhere.

“Bucky!” You don’t even recognise your own voice with how much terror it is consumed with. This can’t be happening. This can’t be real.

In a flash you’re by his side, keeping pace as they wheel him deeper into the hospital, your lungs and throat scorching with distress.

You try not to break down seeing the sheer amount of blood, Bucky’s blood, soaking the gauze they are pressing into his shoulder wound, how pale and fragile he looks strapped down to the gurney. You’re an emergency medicine doctor, you’ve treated wounds like this before, confronted much more blood than this from a patient. But nothing in your training prepares you for observing your soulmate barely clinging to life, their claret staining your gloved fingers as you help maintain pressure, how cold his skin is to the touch, how his face looks almost serene even though these could be his final moments on earth, that he could be abandoning you for the warm embrace of death.

Not your Bucky. They can’t take your Bucky.

“Buck, can you hear me?” Your hand cups his cheek, and he’s as cold as ice. His eyes are shut so he can’t even look at you to give you one last chance to memorise the astonishingly blue irises which have been your source of solace since meeting him.

A mask covers his mouth and nose, delivering rescue breaths. You try to place a block in your mind to stop it from retrieving the medical knowledge you have spent years memorising - you don’t want to know how catastrophic a situation his body must be in to be needing rescue breaths.

“I love you, James. You hear me? I love you!” It almost ends your existence when he doesn’t answer, doesn’t even so much as flinch at your confession. You hope any part of him that is still alive inside the casing of his cold body manages to hear those words.

Dr Strange and Wanda have to physically restrain you from following the team treating Bucky and prevent you entering the operating theatre.

Dr Strange’s voice sounds like a hum, too far away to make sense of even though he’s pushing you away from the OR. All you’re focussed on is keeping your eyes on Bucky for as long as you can.

Is this the last time you will ever see him alive?

It’s only once he is out of sight, that your brain starts to catch up to the realisation of what has actually happened.

Bucky was shot. A bullet ripped through his skin, tearing muscle and fascia, lacerating his organs, possibly fatally wounding him.

Bullets are designed to kill. To end the life of the organism the gun barrel is aimed at. There is no mercy from a gunshot wound, you had seen too many to believe better.

A guttural cry forces its way out of your parched windpipe without you being able to prevent it, your kneecaps sting as you fall to the ground. Hot, large tears cascade onto your cheeks as Wanda’s arms engulf you.

Any second now, James Buchanan Barnes’ heart could be taking its final beat and you wouldn’t be any wiser. His lungs would stop breathing, preventing oxygen from binding to hemoglobin in his blood and reaching his brain. Everything else would shut down quickly from there.

One second he’d be here and the next he wouldn’t.

James Barnes simply wouldn’t exist anymore.

You had seen it too often, heard from bereaved family members time and time again how quickly it had all happened, but it wasn’t until this very moment that you understood the magnitude of that sentiment.

How could he go from telling you yesterday night that you were the most beautiful sight he had ever laid eyes on to now possibly his cold, lifeless body laying on an operating table with his soul having crossed over to the afterlife?

You’d never hear his voice again. Or his laugh.

Never see his dazzling sapphire eyes as they regard you with overwhelming affection.

Never feel that warm rapture blooming in your chest when he’d proclaim himself as yours and kiss you in the same breath.

He’ll never get to know you love him.

It feels as though you are tumbling wildly down into an abyss, waiting for the inevitable crash at the bottom that would either end this eternal suffering or that sudden jerk, the lurch as you wake up from this cruel nightmare.

Neither comes. You are fated to live in excruciating limbo, your lungs burning, as if you can’t take a breath until Bucky’s destiny has been sealed.

Oxygen would be the gift you’d allow yourself once your love was awake and talking again; cracking stupid jokes with his signature cocky smirk and flirting with you like you were on your first date again.

And if he were to pass into the next life, taking your heart with him, then you would simply refuse to take another breath until you were reunited with him once again.

Part 10 coming soon

Be added to the series taglist here

He’s Hazardous To My Health [Paramedic!Bucky Barnes] Taglist: @lavenderpenumbra @crazyunsexycool @eralen @buckbuckyoongs @blackwidownat2814 @crayongirl-linz @ozwriterchick @desert-fern @misshale21 @chalesleclerc164 @rookthorne @janineb86 @emmabarnes @scarletbich @princezzjasmine @thebuckybarnesvault @doasyoudesireandlive @solitarioslilium @iamfandomwasted @tanyaspartak @pop-rocks-818 @Dumdidditydumdoo @missvelvetsstuff @kayden666 @amiimar @katheryn1 @safew0rd @kentokaze @thewackywriter @lady-loki-barnes-djarin @badasswlthafatass @loveoldmenlikelana @00cmh @pointless-girl @honeyglee @nerdxacid @ashhsage @prettylittlepluviophile @otomefromtheheart @sjsmith56 @mandijo17 @lokidokieokie @oceansandblackhearts @rebeccapineapple @soorwellystan @excusememrbarnes @lofaewrites @snapcapquartet @wishingwell-2 @aya-fay @lowkeysebby @redbarn1995 @lex-is-up-all-night-to-get-bucky

[lvcky-g1rl-syndr0me]

hai bby! hru?

so idk if this is going to make sense but i've had this thought on my mind for a while and i wanted to request something if it's not too much to ask for.

so like, rich sunghoon who's very protective of y/n and is cold to everyone but y/n and their rich kid friend group. and rich y/n who even tho is rich, is still very kind and caring. they're both in school (college or high school) and they're like the "rich and popular" kids. so basically, y/n's super innocent and sweet and hoon is trynna figure out how to confess? can be angsty with fluff? and you can decide whether it's written or a smau.

i'm so sorry if this makes no sense 😓 and if you can't do it, that's totally fine too. hope you're well love!

-⭐

youre not for sale (request) ☘︎ park sunghoon

warnings: fluff, comfort, angst, mutual yearning, reader being a bit blind, i think thats all!! if there's anything else let me know!!

park sunghoon was in love with y/n l/n. that was a fact no one could deny. It was obvious to everyone. Well, everyone except one person. y/n. He was constantly buying them things, from flowers to expensive jewelry. but to y/n, he was just “being a really good friend”. to sunghoon, they were the kindest, sweetest, ad most attractive person he had ever met in his whole life. that brings us to now. sunghoon has been with jake all day, coming up with a speech to tell y/n he likes, scratch that, is in love with them. “what the actual fuck do i say to them man? ‘hey y/n i know were super close and all, oh by the way, i'm in love with you’? hell no. shes just- sweet, and, i dont wanna say fragile. but shes innocent. i dont wanna hurt her or confuse her.” so far, its going…not so great. “i really don't know what to tell you bro. you just need to grow a pair and tell her.” sunghoon gives him a glare, “easy for you to say, you got your girlfriend by just being pathetic and following her around like a puppy”. “OH FUCK YOU MAN” safe to say, jake didnt take too well to his jab. sunghoon felt like drowning in self-pity. his friends were no help, and with each passing day he fell for y/n more and more with no idea how he should confess to them. especially when everyone around them knew all of their business. y/n on the other hand, could not have been more oblivious. “i’m telling you noo, he does not like me like that”, they say. oh how wrong they were. sunoo looks at them as if they were insane, “are you serious right now y/n? that guy looks at you as if you created all things good in the world! i’m serious!”. in that moment, he thought they could never be more dense. 

a week went by of sunghoon helplessly wondering, crying for help to his friends, and buying flowers for y/n that reminded him of them. he sees y/n walking to their class and runs up to them. “y/n! Hey! um- do you wanna hang out later? Maybe like grab some lunch or get boba or something” he asks, desperately hoping that they say yes. “oh my god yes! i’ve been craving boba like crazy!” for a moment, sunghoon truly believed there was something in the universe on his side. he spent the next 3 hours trying to think up someway to confess. flowers? the ring they've been talking about wanting? unlimited trips to their favorite restaurant? he needed to come up with something, and fast.

the pair somehow end up back at y/n’s dorm, playing video games. sunghoon had just beat y/n at mario kart *again*, and y/n decided they needed a break. “god, how do you win every time?’ they grumble while walking to the kitchen. sunghoon replied before even giving a second

thought, “i’m just that good baby”. y/n had never turned around so fast in their life, “what?”. He froze, nothing coming out of his mouth, eventually, it all just started coming out before he could save himself. “i love you. you’re so amazing, and kind, and pretty. i don't even think i deserve you but i really hope you’ll give me a chance! i’ve been trying to figure out how to confess to you for so long and this really isn’t how i planned it but this is how its happening. you just make me so nervous but in a really good way and i just really hope you feel the same or you hear me out and at least let me take you out on one date.” he stops speaking abruptly as it all just happened so fast. silence filled the once loud room that was overflowing with their laughter. “sunghoon…” they trail off, “you really feel that way?” he doesn't respond and simply stares down at his feet in embarrassment and defeat. “i’m gonna go, i'll see you around.” he abruptly stands up and leaves with y/n protesting behind him and telling him to stay. he beat himself up the whole night, this isn't how he wanted it to go, not at all. he couldn't believe he let himself word vomit like that! he just blew it with the person of his dreams, he could never tell his friends about this. they’d definitely use it against him for life, and he can’t bear the thought of reliving his worst heartbreak.

y/n wasn’t completely sure what to do, or how to handle this. sunghoon liked them? there's no way. he’s handsome and kind, he's perfect. and he seriously likes them? as she runs through every possible scenario of how this situation ends in her head, she impulsively decides to go to his dorm. she hesitated before knocking on his door. sunghoon opened the door, to see, to his shock, y/n. “i really really like you too and i’ve never known how to tell you and when you just said everything to me i froze because i didn't know what to say! you're the most amazing guy sunghoon and i want this to work out. so please just tell me if you want to make this work too.” he stood in the doorway, his mouth parted in shock. he spoke quietly after a moment, “you really mean it?” y/n looks at him incredulously “are you kidding? of course i mean it!” sunghoon swore he felt his heart stop for a solid 5 seconds. “i thought i lost you for good, oh my god!” he sighs in relief. “you could never lose me don't be stupid.” he gives them a glare before wrapping his arms around them, not caring who in the hall saw. “does this mean i can take you on a date now?” he asked softly. “i mean obviously”

masterlist

luckys note!: guys lets pretend it didnt take me 6 months to write this... um anyways ENJOY!!!

© lvcky-g1rl-syndr0me, 2025. do not copy, translate or upload any of my works without my permission.

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dm me or send an ask to be added to either!

[youngbunny]

not to be that bitch but when the bees become an official couple in canon i Will Not Stop Talking About Them

[medicinemane]

Love the hatred of pronouns, just too fucking funny

Also love the statement "I don't have DNA, I have USA" cause... where to even begin with that one? Unfathomable, so silly, if some of the shittiest people on earth weren't the ones saying it I'd love it cause of how entertaining it is

Anyway, fuck pronouns, never use pronouns, never use 3rd person, never use nouns. If you're referring to stuff that's some woke bullshit so get it out of here

[robinsgrl]

toxic baby daddy rafe does something to me. no soft rafe (only with his girls and only sometimes). he’s abrasive and harsh. even more when someone messes with you. yooo where my panties at

mdni 18+

It’s been three months. Three months without Rafe as your boyfriend. Three months of his only title in your life being your baby daddy. There were days where you would refuse to even call him that.

In high school, you loved the sound of his voice. You loved how the palm of his hand felt at the small of your back. You loved that being around him brought you a sense of peace.

Now, all you two do is argue. About everything and anything. Even if you do start half of them. Not now, though.

“What I do in my spare time is none of your business!” Luckily, Samara’s in the living room, her noise cancelling headphones on as she watches some YouTube show, giggling when something funny comes up. You’d usually try and pay attention to her screen time but you can’t when Rafe is in your home and bitching at you.

“So you’re whoring it up when Samara’s with me?” His words are harsh, spitting them at you.

Your eyes are wide and bewildered as you look up at him, chest rising and falling from the intense match you’re having. “Listen to yourself! Whoring it up? Are you from the fifties? Women can have sex without being called a whore nowadays!”

“So you are fucking someone? Who is he.” It’s not a question. It’s a goddamn demand and you hate the way it makes your knees feel weak.

You scoff loudly, rolling your eyes. “I’m not fucking anyone.”

“Don’t fucking lie to me, ___, Topper fucking saw you.”

“Topper’s your dick rider.” You spit back out. It comes without warning. His big hand falls on your neck, tightening around you. Your back pushes up against the wall, eyes wide and up on his as he stares down at you angrily.

His face nears yours, lips ghosting over the shell of your ear. A shudder runs through your body and you want to shut your legs to help ease the sensation between them but he forces his knee to you. “I’ll kill any man who gets near you, do you fucking hear me?” His words are low and menacing. From anyone else, it’d be scary. It’d drive you away and straight to goddamn police station. But from him? You can’t deny how good it feels.

Rafe’s always been protective of you. Since you two met, he’s hovered around you like a scary dog, growling at anyone who came your way. It grew when you got knocked up in your senior year of high school. And it grew tenfold when your baby girl was born. But it got to be suffocating. You broke it off with him and it took him two weeks to realize you were being serious.

You would never admit that you made a mistake. Not ever. Admitting that you miss him only lets him win. It gives him a point. And yes, you should be mature enough to realize this isn’t a game but he’s so damn cocky about it. The last thing you need from Rafe is a bigger ego.

“Who is he?”

“Eric. Eric Jones.” You admit easily, breath shaky and full of a need for him.

“Did he fuck you?”

You can’t answer. He repeats himself.

“Did he fuck you?”

You nod, hands falling to his arm as his hand tightens on your neck. His eyes won’t leave your face, taking you in completely. You can see it all. The anger. The jealousy. The twinge of hurt. He pulls his hand from your neck and pulls away from you. “Call your mother. Tell her to pick Samara up.”

“What?”

“Just fucking do it.” And you do. Like always, you do as told and Samara’s off with her grandma for the night.

“He can’t fuck you like I can.” You’re a drooling mess as he pounds into you from behind, the sound of skin on skin meeting fills the room. His hand is in your hair, forcing your head back. “Tell me. Tell me how good I make you feel.”

The moans and whimpers coming from you won’t stop. You try to form words as he keeps shattering your world but it won’t come out. “Fucking slut. Answer me.” His hands trail down to your neck, pushing you up slightly to sit as he keeps fucking into you. Your back arches up against him, toes curling as you feel the building ache in the bottom of your belly.

He groans loudly as he feels your walls clench down on him as you curse out loud, grinding down on him to reach that peak you want so badly.

“Fuck, baby, you’re so fucking tight. He couldn’t even fuck you right, could he? My poor girl, getting fucked by amateurs.” His fingers trail down to your freed tits, pinching at your pebbled nipples. “I don’t care what break you think we’re on, when you need a good fucking, come to me. No one can ever make you this cock drunk.”

You’re nodding frantically, “yes, yes, fuck, Rafe! Rafe! Oh, fuck!” You come undone when his fingers find their way to your clit, rubbing at your sensitive and pulsing bundle of nerves.

At this very moment, you’re grateful for the house that Rafe bought you instead of cooping up in the one bedroom apartment you wanted when you moved out of his place. You had hated the power he had for giving you such a nice place but you’re grateful now as you moan and yell his name, body convulsing as his fingers keep working against you.

“Raaaafe, fuck!” He’s pushing deep and deeper as he pushes your front side back onto the bed. The overstimulation is making you writhe beneath him, pretty whimpers leaving your swollen and reddened lips. You can tell he’s reaching his own end when his thrusts become harder and longer, momentum slowing.

One pump. Two pumps. Three. Four. And he’s groaning in your ear, his front pressed up against your back as he comes inside of you from behind, your cunt fluttering around him at the full feeling of his load.

—

You awaken hours later to the bed dipping beside you. You had fallen asleep in Rafe’s arms after he had cleaned you up and whispered soothing and sweet nothings into your ear.

“Rafe?” You sit up tiredly, rubbing at your eyes to wipe the sleep away. His back is turned to you, the most relaxed you’d seen him in a while.

You scooch closer to him, pinched eyes trying to take a look at him. A small gasp leaves you as you see his bloodied and scarred hands. “Go back to sleep, baby.” His polo is covered in dribbles of blood, some drops of it drying up on his face.

You want to ask questions. You want to clean him up. But you can’t. You’re not a very good liar and the last time the police came around asking for your help, you almost broke, but Rafe was always thinking of you, his lawyer cleaning up the mess you made with the police. He had kissed and soothed you down from your teary apologies that night for being weak.

You nod, yawning softly, “okay… just… put the shirt in the wash.” It’s his turn to nod, a soft smile on his face as he presses a kiss to the top of your head.

[choslut]

˖ ࣪ ، ◞ せ⌇ BABY MOMMA. featuring k. nanami.

↻ there’s nothing nanami wants more in the world than to make you a mommy, and give you his beautiful kids.

tags : breeding kink, creampie, mommy kink (if you squint), messy sex, pet names, feral nanami, marathon sex, lactation + pregnancy (fantasized), ovulation cycle // wc. 0.9k

author’s note : sorry this one’s a lil late, i’ve been busy with theme changes and real life is throwing a million and one hurdles at me and i just can’t keep up 😞 you can't tell me that nanami wouldn't be a massive family man, so here i have him completely desperate to start a family with you and give you his babies. notes and reblogs are always appreciated, and check out my masterlist for non-event based works <3 !!

this work is NSFW. minors and ageless blogs DO NOT INTERACT.

it’s been hours. hours since nanami even proposed the idea of trying for kids, and now, it’s all he can fucking think about. 

it’s all you can think about too, given the fact that he’s fucked you out of your mind, legs numb from being in missionary for as long as you remember with nanami plunging in and out of you, the tip of his cock nudging your cervix with every single thrust. 

it’s repetitive. it’s addicting. 

“hah- kento, can’t take no more…” your voice is a sheepish babble, nails digging into his back as tears stream down your face. “ ‘s too much, ken, please–“

nanami grunts in your ear, hips never ceasing movement as he ruts into you. “g’na have to, sweetheart. this one’s gotta take.”

he said that about the last one, and the one before that, and the one before that… and fuck, you can’t keep up with how many times he’s said it because he’s been going at it for so long with only one goal in mind. 

he’s gonna give you kids. he’s gonna make you a mommy, and you’re gonna raise his kids with him as his wife. 

it’s all he’s ever wanted. it’s all he’s ever dreamed of, and when he watches you lounge around the house wearing nothing but a bra and his oversized dress shirt and a wedding ring fit snugly on your finger, he really can’t stop himself from imagining what you would look like with a swollen tummy, breasts spilling out of that same bra. 

“g’na give you my kids baby…” he’s rambling half out of his ass, his brain scrambled by pure need. “gonna make my girl a mommy. you’re gonna be a great mommy, aren't you?”

he’s brought up the topic before. it was never anything serious, just asking you what you would prefer and never really thinking of his own volition. you had always agreed with him wholeheartedly, and it would somehow lead to the two of you cooing over baby clothes and strollers but never anything more. 

nanami is fucking sick of it. he’s sick of fawning over the idea and not doing anything about it. sure, you’ve made love a couple of times, but it never held any true intent, focusing on the pure need to give each other pleasure. 

well, now, nanami needs more than pleasure. he needs to see you with that swollen tummy and those massive leaky tits, and there’s only one way to do that; fucking you within an inch of your life and cumming in your cunt until it finally takes. 

“kento–“ you seemingly haven’t gotten bored of it yet, despite having been at it for over two hours. your back still arches with every bump to your cervix, nails still raking down his back as his sweaty chest squashes your own. “this one’s gonna take, promise.”

“i can’t be sure of that,” he states matter-of-factly. “although your tracker says you’re ovulating, we can’t just trust that once or twice will be enough.” is he sure of this fact? no, but he is sure that you feel too damn good to stop, even though he’s already finished inside of you enough times to guarantee your pregnancy ten times over. 

you just look so beautiful beneath him. you wear the radiance of sex extremely well, eyes fogged over and mouth hanging open as your steamy pants echo in his ear. you’re borderline intoxicating, and that’s why nanami can’t stop, even though he knows you need him to before you pass out. 

“look at me, angel. i wanna see you.” you weakly turn your cheek away from the pillow and look up at him, lips stained a gorgeous red and swollen from his kisses. “you’re gonna be such a pretty momma.”

your eyelids flutter and your back arches weakly as you cum again for the final time, garbled moans of nanami’s name flooding from your throat. despite the longevity of your session, your cunt still manages to squeeze around him impossibly, and nanami groans deeply, arms sliding around your hips as you pulls you forward to meet his thrusts. 

“kentooo…”

“i know, baby, i know.” the sheets are soiled with your sweat and his, and the tight clampdown of your walls propels him to cum one final time, hips flush against your twitching clit as he pumps you full. 

you both stay like that for a beat, nanami folded over your twitching body before he finally pulls out slowly, and when he does, the sight he’s met with is so incredibly dirty that he can barely believe he was the one to reduce you to such a mess. “oh, angel…”

copious amounts of his release flood from your cunt, leaving a translucent pool on your sheets. whilst he absolutely loves the sight and wishes to brand it on the forefront of his brain, nanami’s goal is still clear as day. 

he leans down and kisses your overstimulated clit, fingers dancing around your twitchy hole and gathering up his release before pushing it back inside with a curl of his fingers that makes you want to scream. 

“can’t waste any, my dear, or it might not take, remember?” when he looks up at you from in between your trembling thighs, the look on his face is nothing short of depraved, blonde strands of hair sticking to his forehead and cheeks stained red with excitement. 

“can’t wait to see my girl become a mommy.”

PREVIOUS : THE COLOUR RED ft. yae miko NEXT : BLACKOUT ft. tartaglia

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© choslut 2024 — do not copy, repost or translate my works without permission.

[darkbluekies]

Til death do us part

Yandere!mafia oc x reader

Summary: A summer romance turns dark as Silas can't accept that you've married someone else

Warnings: kidnapping, murder, blackmail, threats, Silas belittling darling, violence, isolation, jealousy, possessiveness

Word count: 5k

He’s everything you could have ever wanted. He’s sweet, caring and works at a bank. He can provide for you. He’s from a good family. Everything about him is perfect, everything you could ever have dreamt of. You could never have imagined that you would find a man like him after what happened last summer. 

You had met a man on the way home from dinner with a friend, someone that had helped you after the grocery bag you had bought food in on the way home. He had introduced himself as ‘Silas’ and had walked you home, carrying the groceries for you. You had thanked him. Silas had asked if you wanted to meet for coffee sometime, and you had agreed, innocently thinking nothing of it. You had gone out with him multiple times. Never actually becoming a couple, but acting like it. It was harmless, you thought. You kissed, went on dates and you knew that if things continued like this, you’d fall for him. 

But you noticed that something was weird about him, and it made you feel cautious in his presence. He never told you anything about his life and when you asked, you noticed that something shifted in his dark eyes. As if he tried to come up with a lie. It creeped you out somehow, because why couldn’t he tell you? Maybe you shouldn’t have trusted a man who tried to cover up his tattoos.

You finally got to know the truth at the end of the summer. A friend who had seen the two of you together had recognised him from a newspaper. He was a criminal, a leader of a mob, who was more dangerous than you could have anticipated. You had cut contact with him and moved away so that he wouldn’t be able to find you again. 

But he did. Somehow, he did. 

Letters have been piling up in your mailbox during these last few weeks, addressed to you and written in red ink. Your heart had stopped when you read the first one. 

“Y/N, I’ve missed you. I’ve missed you so terribly much. My heart bleeds and aches for you. You left me because you were scared. I get that. I get that very well, this is a world you should be afraid of, but I will protect you. I will take care of you better than that man ever could. Yeah, I know that you’ve found someone new. I know that you’re planning to get married. Quite quick, don’t you think? You haven’t known him that long, and now you’re getting married? Silly Y/N, you’re so cute. Do you really think you love him? Are you trying to reassure yourself that I’m a part of your past that will never return? Or are you trying to make everyone around you believe that you’ve gotten over me and moved on? I know you still think of me. I know you want me. And I want you too. I have never wanted someone other than you. You and me are meant for each other. Don’t marry him. Come back to me. It’s you and me til the end.”

You hadn’t shown your fiance, but he had noticed that something had been wrong with you. You had become silent and distant. Letter after letter came to your mailbox and he realized that something serious had happened. You had no choice but to tell him about Silas and your past with him, the present he doesn’t want to let go of, and the future he demands. Your fiance had promised that he wouldn’t get to you, and that he was only trying to scare you. 

You had been expecting to see Silas at your wedding, but he wasn’t there—or at least you didn’t catch a glimpse of him. Maybe your husband was right? Maybe he was just trying to scare you?

The start of the honeymoon is set to be on the SS Anastasia, a proud liner with three yellow funnels, a solid superstructure and a great reputation. It is set to take the two of you to Spain, where you have decided to have the rest of your honeymoon, away from all eyes and to be with no one but each other. 

A steward welcomes you on board. You thank him and give him a smile. He lets you know that your luggage, which you left down at the terminal, will be delivered straight to your cabin, a suite in first class. Only the best for the newlywed couple.

“I’m so excited to see the room”, you admit as the two of you navigate the ship to find the mani staircase. 

“The agent said that it would be nice”, your husband replies and chuckles. “Now, if we only could find it …”

You laugh. It takes you nearly ten minutes to find the right door among mazes of identical white doors. The suite is divided into three rooms: a bedroom, a sitting room and a bathroom, all decorated with expensive materials and fashionable colors. Polished dark wood and electric lights. 

“This is so nice”, your husband smiles, letting his eyes wander around. “I think we’ll have a good time here.”

You hug him and he chuckles, hugging you back. 

“I can’t believe I married you”, he says. 

Me neither, you think. 

Your mind drifts back to Silas and you feel your heart sink down to your stomach. You won’t be able to relax until you know that the ship has left harbour. There’s a constant, heavy feeling in your chest that you can’t explain. But you tell yourself that it’s just that; a feeling. Nothing more than old worries that haven’t been able to come up to the surface before now. You squeeze the man tighter, sighing out. You’re going to be okay. You’re going to be safe. 

You have been promised a fantastic dinner, and the food delivers to your expectations. Everything is tasting like gold, served on a silverplatter. Sitting in the first class dining hall has given you an excuse to dress up. Everyone around is wearing their best clothes, and it is a silent competition in who looks the best. You look around, discreetly admiring everyone else’s attention to detail. You wonder how many of them have spent the entire day in their cabin, doing everything to look their absolutely best. The first night is usually relaxed, but a first time impression will always be remembered. 

“What would you like to do after?” your husband asks and sips on his wine. 

“I think I need to take a walk”, you joke. 

“Oh, yes, the night sky must be so beautiful out on deck. I reckon that you’ll be able to see the stars much easier out here. No city pollution.”

You walk hand in hand down the promenade, looking up at the starry night sky, pointing at familiar shapes. 

The next morning, after breakfast, the two of you walk to the lounge, deciding to take a calm day. Well deserved after planning a wedding and executing it. The lounge is cozy, reminding you of a simple living room rather than a first class room on an oceanliner. Maybe to make the passengers feel more at home.

Your husband takes the opportunity to indulge in a newspaper, finally having the time to sit down and actually read it.

You let your eyes wander around the large lounge, enjoying to admire the small details that give the room it’s cozy feel. But the feeling is quickly switched once your eyes land on someone. A man sitting in an armchair on the other side of the lounge, dark eyes feasted onto you, a small smirk playing at his lips when he notices you noticing him. You can feel your body go numb, feel yourself sink through your armchair, through the floor and through the ship’s metal. Feel yourself sink down to the bottom of the pitch black ocean. You forget how to breathe, head going blank. 

He found you.

You glance towards your husband who’s still invested in today’s news. Silas raises his eyebrows testingly as you look back at him, as if to say “yes, I’ve noticed him, you think he compares to me?”. 

Suddenly the air in the lounge seem to lose all oxygen. You need air, or else you will faint. 

“I-I have to get some fresh air”, you hear yourself mumble. 

“Are you okay?” your husband asks and looks up from his newspaper, eyes full of worry. 

“Yes—”

“Do you want me to come with you?”

“N-No, I’ll be fine, I’ll be back soon.”

You need to get away. 

You hurry out of the lounge and out onto the enclosed promenade. The fresh air hits your face harshly. You grab onto the wall to support yourself while trying to find a way to breathe that doesn’t feel like needles poking through your throat. 

“You thought I wouldn’t find you?” 

You feel your heart stop. Quickly, you spin around, seeing his face way too close to yours. He tilts it, almost mockingly. You back away, stumbling over your feet and hitting your shoulder against the wall. Silas corners you, stopping you from escaping. 

“What do you want?” you breathe out shakingly. 

“Didn’t you get my letters?” he asks. “Or did you simply not read them?”

“Leave me alone. I-I’m married now.”

He smirks, tilting his head back and putting his hands into the back pockets of his suit pants.

“Indeed, you are”, he says and sighs out. “But do you really think that’s real?”

“What do you mean?” you almost stutter. 

Silas meets your eyes. He’s smiling. 

“Don’t you think I could have taken you whenever I wanted?” he asks. “The only reason you were able to marry that boring son of a bitch is because I let you. But, in the end, you belong to me. Isn’t that right?”

You don’t answer. You turn your head away, look out over the endless sea, and feel your eyes fill with tears. He wipes your tears with his thumb and you push his hand away. 

“I don’t”, you say, wondering where you have gotten the sudden bravery from. “I don’t belong to you. I belong to him.”

You show him the ring on your finger. Silas clenches his jaw and grabs a hold of that hand, forcing it closer. He pulls of the golden ring, scoffs at it and throws it overboard. You gasp and try to run forward, hoping to catch it before it falls too far, but he pushes you back against the wall. 

“Don’t ever say that again”, he warns you. “You don’t belong to him, how could you? I met you first. I claimed you first. He will have my seconds. Everything you do to him, you’ve done to me first. And he will never do anything as good as I did.”

“I left you because of this!” you hiss, reminding him. 

“No, you left me because you were scared. You don’t understand that you are in more danger if you aren’t with me. I’m the only one that can protect you. I didn’t want you to know about it because I know you’d be scared, but—”, he cups your cheeks, forcing you to look at him, “—but I won’t hurt you. You’re so special to me. I love you so much. You did read my letters, I can see it in your eyes. You know how much I love you.”

“Let me go”, you plead. 

“No. It’s you and I til the end, don’t you remember? I’m not letting you go again. I’ve been letting you have your fun for too long now. It’s about time I take you back. I’m not going to hurt you.”

“Don’t hurt him either.”

You can see his eyes darken, his jaw clench. “You decide if it’s going to be violent or not.”

You freeze in his hold. 

“You can choose to come back to me, quietly and easy”, Silas starts and caresses your cheek. “We will be happy and your boy will be left alone.” He traces your jaw with his finger. “Or … you reject me and I take out my competition and take you with me once we reach Spain. No one will see you again.”

He seems to tell that you’ve stopped breathing, because he sits you down on one of the sun chairs and massage your throat. Your eyes are stuck onto nothing, empty. 

“I will give you until nine”, he whispers in your ear. “If you’re not outside my cabin at nine, A-30, knocking on my door, I will kill him.”

“You’re a liar”, you breathe out, voice barely audible. “You’ll kill him either way …”

Silas shrugs simply. “Maybe, but don’t you want to take your chances? You might save him.”

Silas stands up. You sit frozen. 

“Oh, and Y/N?” he says as if remembering something and looks down at you. “If I were you I wouldn’t tell anyone. You know, for obvious reasons.” 

He gives you a small, teasing smile before walking back inside. You sit still, not daring to move. Worried that if you move you’ll break down and realise what’s going on. You can feel your heart pound in your ears. No. No, this can’t be happening.

“What are you doing out here?” you hear a familiar voice ask. “You’re going to get sick!”

You feel your husband hang his blazer over your shoulders. The warmth, the familiar scent from him makes your heart hang heavy in your chest. You can’t help but feel like you’ve betrayed him, as if you’ve cheated your relationship, thanks to Silas’s threat. But if you cheat on it, you might save the love of your life. Can you cancel out a bad thing with a bad thing? Is it really a bad thing then? Can you be excused? 

You can’t tell him about it, but if you did, would he understand you?

“You don’t look well, actually”, he says and helps you stand. “You’ve probably already gotten sick. You should go lay down and rest.”

He helps you, slow and steady, to your suite. You lay down in bed and he tucks you in. 

“Should we ring for a steward?” he asks worriedly. “Ask for some tea and some medicine?”

“No, I’m fine”, you reassure him dimly. “I just need to be alone.”

“I’m worried about you. Something happened to you. I can help you.”

No, you can’t.

“Do you want to be left alone?” he asks. 

What if he gets killed?

“No, stay in here”, you wish. 

He nods. You hold his hand as you lay with your eyes closed, trying to think of what to do. He was clear; whatever you do, you’ll end up with Silas. The only thing you can choose—maybe—is to save the man holding your hand and whispering reassurance to you. The nicest you can do, in this situation, is to give in and beg Silas to leave him alone. You can’t be prideful and let him kill him. 

You find yourself outside cabin A-30 with your head spinning. You don’t want to do this, but what choice do you have? Your first is heavy when you lift it to knock, the sound of your knuckles hitting the polished wood seeming to echo throughout the entire ship. You can hear his footsteps on the other side and see him tower over you when he opens the door. His smirk sends a wave of nausea over you. 

“So, you came in the end”, he says cockily. “Good girl/boy.”

You lower your eyes to the floor. Silas steps aside and gestures for you to walk in. You do, on heavy, unresponsive legs. He closes the door behind you, locking it. You gulp. He lingers around you like a snake and you wait for him to put his fangs into your neck and shoot his venom into you. 

“You should rest”, Silas says softly and wraps his arms around you from behind, resting his chin on your shoulder. “Let’s go to sleep.”

He leads you to the bed and lays you down, lying down behind you. He doesn’t say anything, doesn’t do anything that could scare you. You try to keep it in, but your body fails you. Sobs, quiet at first, leave your body. Tears run down your face. You hold your hand over your mouth, but Silas is close enough to hear you. He hugs you carefully and you can feel him rest his face into your shoulder. 

“There’s no need to worry”, he whispers. “You're back where you belong.”

It only makes you worry more.

“Your crying makes me so sad”, Silas whispers. “Everything will be okay, little thing. You're back now.”

You don't fall asleep that night, and you're sure Silas doesn't either. His grip on you remains tight and controlling, showing no sign of drowsiness.

The sun rises outside the porthole, and you're as wide awake as ever. Silas gets out of bed and starts to dress for the day. You remain in bed, feeling too empty to move. Your eyes fall onto the tattoos on his back and arms, wondering where he got them and what they represented. But something in you tells you that you don’t want to know.

“My darling”, Silas sighs and crouches down in front of the bed, caressing your face. “You don’t need to look so sad. You and me will have fun. We can do more than you ever could with that boy of yours could. My credit card never declines.”

“What are you talking about?” you ask, frowning. 

“Oh? You didn't know?” His cocky face is getting on your nerves. “My men did some digging into him, and it seems like he spent a fortune on this honeymoon of yours. Barely anything left in his bank account. Poor thing was really trying to impress you, but the illusion would be all gone once you came back home. I, on the other hand, have all the money in the world.”

“Your money’s dirty.”

“Money’s money. I could launder it, and it’d be clean, but you wouldn’t accept it anyway. Which is why you’ll never get money from me. You’ll get jewelry, food, clothes—anything you want—and all you need to do in return is submit yourself to me.”

You sigh and look away. 

“We don’t have to talk about this now”, Silas says and stands up. “But you will submit to me, I know you will. Get dressed now, my love, we’re going to eat breakfast.”

Food is the last thing you want right now. 

“I’m not hungry”, you say. 

“Do you want to stay in?” he asks. “I can go get you breakfast that you can eat later.”

You nod, whatever will make him leave you alone for a while. Silas gives you a comforting smile and pets your head before leaving the cabin. You take the time to cry, when you know that he can’t see you, planning to stop before he returns, but failing. 

“Crying when you think I won’t notice?” he asks and scoffs, just a little bit amused. “Do you think I wouldn’t notice?”

He sets down a tray on the table in the room and walks over to the bed, crouching down and wiping your tears. 

“You’re mine”, he says. “Crying about that boy won’t change that fact.”

You don’t answer.

“Will I have to stay in here the entire time?” you ask coldly.

“No”, he says. “Not all the time, but if you want to leave the cabin, you will be by my side. If I were you, I wouldn't try to run away from me or try to tell anyone, because the ship is filled with my men. You don’t know who they are, and they won’t bother you if you behave, but the second I tell them to keep an eye out for you, they will.”

You glare at him.

“But you wouldn’t do that, would you?” Silas asks. 

“And then what?” you counter. “When we're in Spain?”

“Oh, we're not staying there. I'm not allowed there. My second in command is waiting for us there and will take us back to America as soon as we arrive.”

Oh …

“I don’t want to go back. Not with you.”

“Well, life's not fair, little thing. You should eat now. I got you all the things you told me that you liked.”

He takes you to the table in the cabin and starts to feed you the bread, the coffee and fruit. You eat, just you comply, too tired to fight with him. Fighting with a wall would be easier. A wall wouldn't talk back. A wall wouldn't threaten you.

“See how much easier it is when you obey?” Silas says.

You give him a quick gaze. He traces your cheek with his fingers. 

“I look so much forward to having you all to myself”, he mumbled. 

His words send icy shivers down your back. 

You stay in the cabin the coming day. You wonder what your real husband is thinking of your disappearance. Sure that Silas has already done something to make him stay away … or worse.

“You're so down, baby”, Silas says. “How about we do something, hm? We have a whole ship to our amusement. There is a game room, a pool, a library, and a squash court. How about that? Why don't we play some squash?”

You nod, just to get out of the cabin. Maybe you can figure something out. Maybe you can hide.

“That's my boy/girl”, Silas says and takes your hand. “Let's go.”

Walking out with him, hand in hand, made you feel horrible. He looked so proud, so cocky. 

He took you down to the squash court. He picked up a racquet and bounced a few balls. 

“I hope you know the rules”, Silas said with a chuckle. “Or else I will win.”

A man came into the squash court. Silas gave the man a quick, stern look before glancing towards you, and then back at him. This is one of his men, you figure. 

“Give me a second, darling”, he says and takes the man aside. 

They turn their backs to you, whispering. You glance towards the door. As they mumble about something incoherent, you sneak towards the door, opening it silently and sneaking out. You run, but only get a few meters before a hand rips you back. 

“Where do you think you're going?” Silas hisses in your ear.

He slams a hand over your mouth to prevent you from making any sounds and almost you back to the squash court. 

“I apologize”, he mutters to his man. “Seems like my baby here can't behave.”

He holds your back firmly against his chest, hand resting securely over your mouth. “They'll learn soon enough, once they learn the consequences.”

You fight against him, but he doesn't budge.

“Stop fighting”, Silas hisses and turns to his man. “I'm sure it won't happen again, ill make sure it won't, but can you tell the others to keep an eye out for this disobedient little shit? If you ever see them wander around alone, you get me immediately. Leave us now, I need to lecture them.”

The man nods, bows slightly and leaves the squash court. Silas lets you go and you back away from him, but he's quick to corner you.

“You don't get it, do you?” he asks, and sounds a tad bit amused. “You can't escape me. And, come on, trying to do that on a ship? I really thought you were smarter than that. Where would you go? The only place you could flee would be to jump overboard. But you're stupid, not suicidal. And now, all my men keep an eye out. Just accept that your place is here, with me.”

“I want my fucking husband!” you scream. “You aren't my husband, you're a low life criminal!”

Silas’s eyes darken.

“Okay then”, he says, slowly. “If you want him so badly, go look for him. Go find him. If you do, I'll let you go with him. If not, you're mine.”

“Your men will take me back to you.”

“I'll tell them to leave you as long as you don't talk to anyone. Search everywhere. Go to the lower classes, for all I care.”

“What have you done to him?”

He smiles slightly, but it's not one out of genuine happiness, but of mockery. “Do you really want to know?”

You turn around and leave. He follows you. You barely have time to walk down the corridor before a man takes a hold of your arm. A different man from before.

“You're not supposed to walk around”, he says.

“It's okay”, Silas says a few steps behind you.

He wears his chin high, a smirk on his face and his hands in his front pockets. You rip your arm from the strange man's hold.

“My baby is using their brain”, Silas says and reaches the two of you. “We'll see where that gets them. Keep an eye so that they don't talk to anyone. We don't want to encourage talking to strangers, now do we, little thing?”

You glare at him.

“Go, then”, Silas says. “What are you waiting for?”

You don't like how he's changed. Just five minutes earlier he was set on making sure you wouldn't wander … and now he encourages it. Something has happened to your husband and you want to find him as quickly as possible.

You walk away, leaving Silas and his man in the corridor outside the squash court. You're not sure where to start. As soon as you get out of their sight, you stop and sink down alongside the wall. Needing to just catch your breath.

But you don't linger too long. Before you change your mind, you stand up and start to walk. You end up walking back and forth for hours, sure that every eye that lands on you is a member of Silas’s organization, someone being paid to make sure you obey.

You search every little corner on the ship, but your husband is nowhere to be seen. Your suite is empty, but there are signs of struggle. A glass lying on the floor, more than one person's shoe marks on the carpet. You walk over to his suitcase and take out one of his shirts. Crying as you hold it.

“Any luck?” you suddenly hear him say.

Your blurry eyes dart to the open door, seeing him lean against the frame with his arms crossed over his chest. He looks so nonchalant, so careless. How can he?

“There are words for people like you”, you sniffle with a voice draped in hate. “Did you know that?”

“What word?”

“Inhuman.”

Silas scoffs out a small smile. “If only you were as smart with thinking as you were with words, you’d have figured it out by now.”

“What?”

“You haven’t found him anywhere on the ship, and you’ve been looking for hours.”

He doesn’t have to remind you. Your aching feet is enough to make you feel your loss.

“What did you do to him?” you ask weakly.

“I have already told you, if you listened to me, you’d figured it out earlier. I said that there is only one way to escape me.”

Your eyes widen as you dart your eyes to the round porthole. 

“Atta girl/boy”, Silas says, voice smooth as honey as he walks over to you.

“Y-You … y-you …”

“Don’t look at me. I didn’t do it.”

“You ordered it.”

“Are we back to the ‘dirty money’ thing again? Does it matter if I gave the instructions or not? It happened, and even if I said I gave the instructions, you wouldn’t take it.”

You hang your head heavy in your hands, crying. Silas hugs you and you try to fight back, but he doesn’t let you go. He holds you tightly, his rough hands keeping you against his body. 

“Now that he’s gone, you have no other choice than to accept me whole heartedly”, he whispers in your ear. “You have no one else. Only me. Until the end of time, til death do us part.”

You sob in his hold, wanting nothing more than to escape. You manage to glance towards the porthole. 

Silas holds your hand in a tight, painful grip as you walk off the ship, surrounded by a few of his men. People on the dock cheer and welcome their loved ones, but you’re pulled right through the crowd. You can’t hear any of them, your own sorrow drowning out all sounds of happiness. Silas takes you over to a car. A black haired man leans against it, but stands straight when he sees Silas. His second in command. 

“Boss, there you are”, he says with a small smile. “Did you have a good voyage?”

Silas lifts your tightly intertwined hands with a smirk on his face. “What do you think?”

The second in command looks at you up and down and smirks. “Congratulations.”

“I wish we could stay here but if the cops get me I’ll be in trouble”, Silas says and pulls you close. “Let’s go to the yacht before we’re noticed.”

He helps you into the automobile and you’re off, on the way to the ship that will take you back to America. Tears run down your face silently. You shut them, trying to imagine yourself in another place, somewhere far away from Silas and his evil entourage. Somewhere where you had never crossed paths with him. Somewhere where things had turned out different. A bump in the road forces your eyes open again and you’re pulled back into the car that will take you straight to your own personalized hell, with a man who is ready to kill for you. You wish you had never allowed him to carry your groceries. 

[javierpena-inatacvest]

Merry Christmas, Baby

Summary: You're not sure what to get Javi for Christmas, until he gives you an idea for a gift you can't put under the tree

Word Count: 3.3K (I wrote this in two hours, the thots do be thotin)

Paring: Husband!Javi x Wife!reader

Warnings: SMUT (18+) unprotected p in v sex (whoops), breeding kink (I'll say it once and I'll say it again, you KNOW this man deserves 17 kids) vaginal fingering, creampie (big time), family planning, Javi gets so excited about the idea of another baby he literally can't control himself, terrible, sexual Christmas puns, cute and sweet Christmas fluff bc I love this family more than life and you know they give their kids the most magical Christmases 🥺

A/N: I'll take Javier Peña with a big fat breeding kink for a thousand, please!!! I was feeling in a writing rut, until I read @notjustjavierpena Husband Javi Christmas fic last night, and lord have MERCY, consider me inspired 🫡 I'll never shut up about the fact that this man wants a football team, and every Christmas will ask to put another baby in you as his only Christmas gift BYEEEEEEE I need to be institutionalized at this point sorry this is poorly beta'd, it's me, I'm allergic to editing!!!

Forever and Always Masterlist Never Too Late Masterlist

“Javier Peña, there has to be something you want for Christmas.” 

“As long as all my girls are happy, that’s all I want.” 

“Unfortunately, I can’t wrap your sappy sentiment, Javi.” 

There was nothing more that you enjoyed than showering Javi with gifts for the holidays. There were few people on earth you could imagine being more deserving than your husband- you’d find a way to wrap the moon and top it with a bow, if that’s what he wanted. Unfortunately for you, Javi was so sweet, it made buying gifts for him nearly impossible, considering there was rarely ever a tangible item on his wishlist. 

“I don’t need anything, baby.” Javi smiled, reaching for the roll of bright pink and sparkly wrapping paper in front of him to start covering the new Barbie Dream House Lucy had been begging for all year long. “Toss me the tape.” 

“Well obviously I have things for you, but I always wanna make sure I’m getting you things that you want.” You sighed, gently throwing the roll of Scotch tape you had been using over the pile of gifts between you and Javi you were working on wrapping while your daughters were asleep. 

After six Christmases under your belts, you and Javi had learned from the one grave mistake of waiting until Christmas Eve to wrap all your daughter’s presents, now taking a few nights before the big day to wrap and assemble any gifts being left under the tree for your own sanity. 

Now that your girls, Lucy, Elliot and Harper, were six, four and two, it made Christmas even more magical, knowing that they were beginning to understand the concept of what the holiday meant, and all the joyous anticipation that led up to the 25th of December. 

It also meant that there were a lot more presents to wrap- 1, because Lucy and Elliot knew that they could ask for gifts they wanted, and 2, because Javi would say he’d be done buying presents and then show up the next day after work with another toy for his girls. 

“Honey, you get great gifts, for me, but especially for the girls, too. Fuck, I forgot this needs batteries…” Javi mumbled to himself, carefully undoing the wrapping paper he had started working on, “You make a very good Santa.” 

“I think the girls like your version of Santa better, since that’s how they end up with double the gifts under the tree.” You giggled, playfully rolling your eyes at Javi before reaching for the next toy in the pile, “I’m being serious, Javi. I love spoiling those girls just as much as you, but you also deserve to be spoiled too, ya know.” 

“You’re my wife, gave me three beautiful daughters, and tolerate me on a daily basis. Baby, that’s plenty fucking spoiled, if you ask me.” Javi grinned, giving you a reassuring nod and little shrug of his shoulders. 

“You’re much more than tolerable, you goof.” You laughed, cheeks pink at the warmth of your husband’s words, never failing to make you melt a little more each day. “Will you please just tell me one thing you want? Then I’ll let it go, I promise.” 

Javi sat quietly for a moment, fiddling with the edges of the wrapping paper he was working on before a boyish smile began to creep into the corners of his cheeks. 

“Uh oh.” You laughed to yourself, immediately recognizing the goofy grin Javi was trying to contain, “What is it, Peña?” 

“You’re not gonna like it.” Javi snickered to himself, raising an eyebrow at you. 

“Jav, if it’s another dog, I told you, when the girls are older and-” 

“No, it’s not another dog.” He smirked, still softly laughing to himself as you tilted your head at him in confusion, trying to piece together what kind of gift Javi would want that would take any convincing from you, crossing your arms over your chest as you attempted to decipher the devious splayed across his face. 

It only took about two seconds and that look to figure out what Javi was in the market for.  

“Javi…” You sighed, your tone jokingly stern. 

“Osita?” He responded back, trying to downplay his giddiness now that you had figured out his gift suggestion. 

“Javi, four kids is a lot of kids. One more, and they’re doubling us in ranks.” 

You had always been on the fence about having a fourth baby. Not because you didn’t love having kids, or that you didn’t think you couldn’t handle it, mentally or financially, but because your brain worked in logistics- adding one more member to your family was getting you to the point where you’d have so many kids, you wouldn’t even all fit in Javi’s truck anymore, unless someone got demoted to the trunk, which, in all honesty, you were sure Elliot wouldn’t mind. 

For Javi, on the other hand, there was no need to worry about logistics- the two of you would figure it out sooner or later. The only logistics he was worried about was instigating the baby making process.  

“You asked what I wanted!” Javi replied, chuckling as he held his hands up in defense, “I think I’ve been a very good boy all year, if you ask me.” 

“What you’re asking for is definitely putting you on the naughty list.” You huffed, trying to distract yourself with finishing wrapping the present you were working on to hide the fact you were genuinely considering Javi’s present suggestion. “You really think we can handle four kids, Jav?” 

It took everything in you not to laugh at the way Javi instantly perked up when your first response to his gift idea wasn’t rejection, eyeing you up and down and gently biting down on his lower lip. 

“Mhmmm.” He nodded, slowly making his way around the pile of presents to scooch closer to you, “I’ll take care of everything, mi amor. You, the girls, the baby, I can ask for less hours at work so I can help around here, whatever you want, you know I’ll give it to you.” 

“You really want this baby, huh?” You giggled, smirking at Javi as he crawled next to you, hungry look in his eyes while he began to cage his body over yours, carefully laying you down on the floor beneath him. 

“Fuck, I wanna knock you up again so bad. You’re so fucking sexy when you’re pregnant.” Javi groaned, planking overtop you, his hot breath dancing across your skin in between his soft nips at your pulse point. “Let me fuck another baby into you, Osita. Please.” 

Any inhibitions you would have had in protest had completely flown out the window, arousal soaking the fabric of your underwear as Javi kissed up your neck and across your collarbone, softly palming at your breasts under one of his old sweatshirts you had thrown on. 

Truth be told, you and Javi had talked about baby number four enough that you were already leaning towards saying 'yes' anyways, but that wouldn’t stop you from having a little fun in seeing how badly Javi really wanted the Christmas gift he was asking you for. 

“Tell me how badly you want it, Javi. Tell me how much you wanna fuck another baby into me.” You devilishly whispered into his ear, smiling to yourself at the pathetic groan that rumbled from his chest in response. 

“Fuck me-” Javi moaned, hands feverishly groping your body, “Fuck, I want it so bad, quierda. Wanna fill you up ‘till it has no choice but to fucking take, fuck this pussy so full of me, let everyone know who it belongs to, watching you carry our baby. Please, Osita.” 

It was a good thing you were already prepared to be easily swayed, because even if you weren’t, listening to the way Javi was begging to put another baby in you would have easily been enough. 

“Okay. Merry Christmas, Papí.” 

Your green light was all Javi needed to spark something completely feral in him, practically ripping your clothes off you in the middle of the living room, sprawled out on the carpet. 

“Javi, we can go upstairs and-” 

“No. Fuck, I need to fuck you right now, just like this.” He grunted, shedding his clothes before his hand was cupping over your underwear, jaw going slack at how absolutely soaked the fabric was under the pads of his fingers. “Apparently you do too, huh, Momma? She’s so wet for me, isn’t she? Pretty pussy wants me to fill her up so bad.” 

Your stomach churned in arousal as Javi ripped your panties down your legs, revealing the puffy, glistening mess beneath. Javi had barely touched you, and you could already feel the way you’re dripping, admittedly just as turned on as him at the idea of letting him add another addition to your family. 

“Christ, baby.” Javi muttered, settling between your legs. Letting his hands run up the insides of your thighs, he took his thumbs and slid them between your folds, spreading you open to get a full view of the way your slick was coating your cunt. “Making a fucking mess for me already.” 

“I think I’m ovulating soon.” You sigh, doing some quick math in your head, trying to account for just how worked up you were, Javi’s eyes so going wide at the realization, you were worried they may just pop out of his skull. 

“Oh, fuck me.” Javi groaned, shaking his head in disbelief at his luck, “You’re right, Merry fuckin’ Christmas to me then.” 

Swirling the pads of his fingers against your clit, your back arched against the floor at the shockwaves the pleasure sent through your body, making you gasp so loud, you were worried you risked a real possibility of waking up your daughters. 

“F-Fuck, Javi-” You whimpered, already bucking your bottom half towards him as he sunk his two fingers into your cunt while the heel of his palm rubbed deliciously against your clit. Reaching up, your grasp wrapped around Javi’s bicep, muscles flexing with each pulse of his fingers as you left half-crescent moons in his skin. 

It took everything in you not to scream as a third finger joined the first two, stretching you out as he bumped against your g-spot, tension already beginning to build in your core. A sudden gasp escaped your chest, surprised by the newfound emptiness that had you clenching around nothing, looking up to see Javi reaching down to wrap his hand around his cock, stroking it a few times before lining it up with your entrance. 

“Fuck, I’m sorry, I need to fucking feel you, baby. Swear you’ve got me feeling like I’m about to bust like a fucking teenager.” Javi grunted, running his tip against your clit and down your cunt, collecting your arousal before thrusting himself inside you, filling you to the brim with every inch of him. 

Unless you were desperately pressed for time, Javi normally had a bare bones minimum of pulling at least one orgasm out of you before he fucked you, but seeing how worked up and needy he was to feel you wrapped around him, it was about as close to an orgasm you could get withtout actually having one. 

“Oh fuck, Javi!” you whined, feeling the tip of his head kiss your cervix as he began to thrust in and out of you, feeling dizzy from his fullness. You could tell he was trying to hold himself together, his hips slamming into you in deep, slow thrusts, breath hitching in the back of your throat every time he buries himself deeper inside you. 

“Fuck, you feel so good. So fucking tight. Fuck, I can’t wait to fill her up, give you every last fucking drop. Taking me so fucking well.” Javi moaned through gritted teeth, already scrunching his face in concentration through his pussy drunk babbling.  

Running his hands up the back of your thighs, Javi pushed your knees to your chest, pinning your legs in place against your stomach to stretch you out even further, letting him sink himself even deeper to hit the spot he knew drove you just as crazy as it drove him. 

Despite how lost in pleasure the two of you were, Javi was at least conscious enough to realize how loud you had gotten, quickly reaching up cup your mouth, catching your muffled moans in the palm of his hand. 

“I know, hermosa. Fuck, I love hearing you, but we gotta keep quiet enough, baby.” Javi huffed, snaking the hand covering your mouth between your bodies, circling at your clit, almost as if he was putting you through some sort of cruel test to see how far he could push you before he had you screaming at the top of your lungs. 

“Fuck- fuck, I know. You feel so good, Javi.” You whined, hand pressed against his bare chest, his warmth and weight pinning your body below him. 

You feel the way Javi’s thrusts become quicker and harsher, filling himself as deep as he could as your cunt began to clench around his length, sucking him in with your warmth and wetness. Your eyes had been scrunched, so lost in your own pleasure that you hadn’t even noticed the nearly pained look on Javi’s face, furrowing his brow in deep concentration with each slap of his hips against yours. 

“You okay, Javi?” You asked, panting out each word as he pounded into you, circling your clit faster and faster as his grip tightened around your thighs, trying to keep himself grounded. 

“Yeah, I- Fuck- fuck me, I’m trying so hard not to finish before you do. Pussy feels so fucking good. Wanna cum so fucking deep inside you.” Javi moaned, the rhythm of his hips already starting to falter thinking about his endgame. 

If you weren’t so lost in your own ecstasy, you probably would have giggled at Javi’s admission, giving him shit about how he couldn’t hold it together for even just a few minutes, knowing he could finally try to get you pregnant again. But right now, you’re just shocked you can even get any words to form coherent thoughts to string together, let alone tease him. 

“Put a baby in me, Javi. Fuck, want you to cum so deep inside me, please, baby.” 

You could barely finish the whimpers of your sentence before Javi’s pace became sloppy and erratic, hips stuttering before his jaw went slack, letting a low, long groan escape from his chest. 

“Oh, f-fuck-” Javi stammered, flushing his hips against yours as you felt his warm spend coat your walls, pressed so deep inside you, you were convinced it’d have no choice but to stick, in a few weeks finding out baby number four would be on the way. 

Javi’s chest rose and fell, looking down at the way your bodies melted together beneath him, igniting something primal in him to see the mix of your arousal seeping around where the two of you met. His eyes darkened, looking down at you with a feral sort of smirk, not even giving you the chance to speak before his lips were crashing into yours again, hips slowly thrusting while his fingers rubbed at your sensitive bundle of nerves. 

“J-Javi, what are you-” You muttered, cut off by the messy dancing of tongues and teeth in your mouths. 

“I’m not done yet, Momma. Not until I fuck myself so deep in there we know it fucking takes. Wanna keep you stuffed so fucking full of me.” Javi grunted, rubbing your clit faster at the way he could feel the walls of your pussy starting to flutter around him, determined to make sure he wasn’t the only one who finished. “Cum for me, baby. I know you’re close. Can feel how tight she’s getting for me.” 

You knew just as well as he did that the tingle that had been building at the base of your spine had slowly begun to flow to every inch of your body, building up through your legs and into your core, clenching down harder and harder around Javi’s cock, knowing there was no doubt the mess between your legs was surley just as wet as it sounded as he slid in and out of you. 

“Oh fuck, Javi, oh fuck- fuck, fuckfuckfuck- ah!” 

It didn't take long before your orgasm crashed through you, lighting up every inch of you in radiating pleasure, your cunt clamping down so hard around Javi’s cock, it made him let out a strangled gasp as he choked out curses under his breath. 

“Jesus, fuck. Gonna squeeze every last fucking drop outta me, huh? My greedy fuckin’ girl.” Javi smirked, planting a soft kiss on your lips before he slumped on top of you, your chests rising and falling as one as you finished coming down from your high. 

The two of you laid there for a moment, catching your breaths and basking in bliss before Javi was pulling out of you with a hiss, one hand wrapped around his softening cock, the other scooping up the mix of your spend pooling between your legs before it dripped to the floor, carefully pushing it back inside you. 

“Fuck,” Javi laughed to himself quietly, sitting back on his haunches, admiring the slick, shiny mess your pussy had become, “Jesus, I can’t remember the last time I came that hard.” 

“Looks like Christmas came early this year… and so did you.” You giggled, making Javi roll his eyes, playfully shaking one of the legs still pressed to your chest. 

“Shut up.” He sighed, shaking his head at you before laying back down beside you, shifting so that his chest was pressed to your back, spooning you in his grasp. “Gotta make sure Santa’s not the only thing coming down the chimney this year.” 

“Jesus Christ, Javi.” You can’t help but snort, ashamed of how easily amused you are by his stupid puns. 

“What? You let me get my gift early, least I can do is stuff your stocking for you.” 

“Oh my god, you are the worst.” 

The two of you giggled, basking in your laughter as you laid together on the floor, only spurred on by the fact you realized how ridiculous it was that the two of you were completely naked in the middle of your living room, surrounded by a sea of wrapping paper and presents. 

“Speaking of stocking stuffers, we should finish wrapping the rest of these gifts we have out before we go to bed. At least some of these presents should be wrapped, because the one you just gave me was most definitely not.” You teased, craning your neck to pepper ticklish kisses across Javi’s jaw. 

“It’s the gift that keeps on giving. I’ll give it to you tomorrow too, if you let me.” Javi grinned, giving you a playful wink before pressing a kiss into your messy hair and patting your hip, reaching over you to grab the pile of clothes the two of you had left next to you. “Seriously though, thank you. You and our girls are the best gift I could ever have, but adding one more would make me so fucking happy. I love you, Osita.” 

“I love you too, Javi. You guys are the best gift I could ask for, too. Although, I will say, your gift also selfishly works in my favor, too. Some presents are just better unwrapped.”

@chaotic-iguana @rhoorl @bbiophiliaa @pertinentpostmortem @angelofsmalldeath-codeine

@pedrobaby @fatima-marisa @beboldbebravethings @poodlebae @kittenlittle24

@3sriracha @jungchloee @perennialdoll247 @prettyinpunk85 @raspberrybesitos

@partyofone3413 @harriedandharassed @pedrohoe04 @theorganasolo

@endlessthxxghts @beware-my-thorns @missladym1981 @milly-louise

@jay-zzle @the-one-with-the-grey-color @persephone-girl @bitchesuntitled

@pedropascallvr @millennial-teenybopper @vee-bees-blog

@hopplessilse @mxtokko @its-nebuleuse @mandoisapunk @msmorningstaarr

@amyispxnk @honeyedmiller @mountainsandmayhem @picketniffler @burningnerdchild

@copperhalfcent @theoraekenslover @bloodyinspirationaldemon @vee-bees-blog

@samgirl4life @pigeonmama @survivingandenduring @itsokbbygrl @javierpena-inatacvestnotifs

[dreamiie4her]

How i mastered the art of persisting & how yall can too

hello my luvs, lemme tell u, its been a rlly eventful last 2 weeks in terms of me undergo a drastic shift in my mindset and WHEWWWWW, i thought it was time to share with yall

storytime

this past year i told myself i would adopt a strict mental diet where i wouldn't let doubts stop me or anything and lemme tell you, it was such a rocky road. There would be periods of me affirming that i was a master shifter, seek validation from the 3D and then start dwelling in my old state again. This cycle of giving up continued until i came across these posts. I then deeped how i've been overcomplicating manifesting & shifting to the point where i would give up so easily on my new states because "persisting was too hard” when it rlly wasn't. Anyways, lemme share my favourite tips & advice i learnt.

THE ADVICE & TIPS

stop associating emotions w/ states

Once i stopped associating me doubting, being frustrated, etc with my state, i found stuff x10000 EASIER!! I be affirming when i'm sad/frustrated because my emotions do NAWT define me. If something happens in my life, i allow myself to acknowledge it then i affirm on loop that "everything gets better" and the very fact i am a master manifestor.

manifesting will exist whether u like it or not

whenever i feel like "giving up", i remember that no matter if i "give up" on my desires or not, the law of assumption will still operate in the same principle of dominant thoughts materialising ur reality. So that really made me think, why would i not take advantage of knowing about the loa and manifesting everything i want? Like once you find out about the law of assumption, there is no turning back so u might aswell utilise it.

you can never lose your "manifestation powers"

Sometimes i be having thoughts "what if i lose my manifestation powers" and its like?? i will always be able to manifest easily & so will you. You can never "lose" the ability to manifest. Its a LAW. Meaning you will always be able to do it

pick a staple affirmation & loop it no matter what

After utilising robotic affirming, i've felt so much more FULFILLED then i ever did. Trust me when i say, pick one affirmation (e.g. "i am a master shifter") and keep affirming through your doubts, random thoughts, etc. Litreally when you deep it, affirming is basically thinking and thinking is super duper easy. So picking one affirmation and continuously repeating it is so easy even when you feel like your having sm doubts (trust me, once u get in the habit of js affirming, things feel sm easier).

you don't need to believe to manifest

Before some of yall come at me, lemme tell yall something. When i got more serious about the loa this year, i overconsumed a sh!t ton of loa content stating in order to manifest your desires and it made me feel so frustrated whenever i felt doubts/overwhelmed when affirming for my desire. The belief bit will follow natrually while persisting, dont focus on beliving in ur manifestation, keep repeating you have it & your belief of it will feel more natrual as you keep repeating it (if that makes sense)

the 3D isn't the end, keep persisting

I made a post about this but to keep it short & simple, your 3D circumstances aren't permanent. Just because you may be experiencing the opposite of what you want in the 3D, doesn't mean it will stay like that forever and your manifestation "won't work". Keep affirming bb <3

okie that's it for the post <3 i'll probs make a pt2 if i got anymore advice?? but hope yall liked it ;3

[cryinggirlnamedhelen]

the day you left michael kaiser was the day you died.

you didn’t lose your life, but you surely lost your heart. too many pieces of it had been left fragmented and taken by kaiser for you to be able to fix it ever again. you were only seventeen, and yet it felt like you’ve gone through a lifetime of heartbreak. leaving kaiser was both the most divine gift you have ever given yourself, but also the greatest mistake you have ever committed.

you had met him when you were five. round, rosy cheeks from the frosty winter air were covered in fat tears. you had gotten lost, and you couldn’t find you parents. eventually, you reached the neighborhood park. crouching in the wood chips, with grime and bruises littering his body, was a young michael kaiser of the same age.

he had never spoken to anyone his age, let alone a girl. when you shoved yourself down onto the near frozen swing, still sobbing and sniffling like a baby, kaiser didn’t know what to do. in the end, with his broken grammar and rude words, kaiser wanted to comfort you. he want to try to stop you from crying; after all, it reminded him of himself whenever his father beat and choked him. “what the fuck are you crying about? you look disgusting.”

if kaiser knew gentle words, he would have spoken them. if he knew a lullaby, he would have hummed it. if he knew how to comfort someone, he would have done so. but at age five, he didn’t know anything but swear words. after all, those were the only things that he father ever communicated to him in. at his words, you only sobbed harder. “s-shut up!” kaiser exclaimed. however, you quickly stopped crying once the realization hit you: he wasn’t angry at you.

“i-i’m sorry. i just can’t find my mama and dad.” you whimpered. kaiser nodded. you wiped your tears away, teardrops nearly frozen from the cold. kaiser pointed to a large building next to a collection of houses.

“there’s a shitty station there. a useless piece of shit like you should go there.” kaiser muttered, his voice peculiarly calm for someone who is uttering the nastiest of words. you only blinked a few times in confusion at his vulgarity before grinning brightly, your tears having all been wiped away, and thanked him.

at that moment, you both fell in love with the other. it was only supposed to be a stupid childhood crush that would last a month or two; it wasn’t supposed to be serious. it was just supposed to be cute and temporary.

if only that was the case.

after that day, you continued to visit kaiser every day at the park with a bag of bread from the neighborhood bakery. bread made from garlic salt and sugar and buttery, still warm and soft. for years, you never dared to ask why kaiser was always having fresh new wounds painted on his every day. only years later, at thirteen, did he finally tell you about his family life. you wanted to tell the police, but kaiser swore that he would rather die than end up as an orphan.

when he was fifteen, he got arrested. you knew that it wasn’t him; it wasn’t his fault. he would never steal from a jewelry store. you knew he stole, but he didn’t care about superficial riches like jewels and gold. you waited outside of the police department for two whole days without food and sleep, waiting for kaiser to have his name cleared. finally, some soccer scouter managed to bail him out.

that was the day you started dating kaiser.

he began playing for bastard münchen only a week after his release. you stood by his side, always supporting him, and being next to him, always loving him, always making sure that he knew you love him. at first, kaiser was almost the same, although much more rude to his new teammates. but he still remained as soft as he could with you, never raising his voice or a hand with you.

he began to change at sixteen.

he was cold; distant, even. he still loved you, you knew that for a fact. but soccer was always the only thing on his mind. you knew that he was justified; after all, soccer brought him self-satisfaction and love. he felt human if he played soccer, and you could understand why he was so obsessed with soccer. but not to the point where it was detrimental to his health.

kaiser choked himself.

you always knew that he hurt himself, but you always stopped him the moment you caught him, always begging for him to stop, and that he mustn’t do something like that. you begged for him to take therapy sessions, go to a psychiatrist, something, anything. kaiser only shrugged off your concerns and told you that you worried too much. but the moment you caught kaiser’s fingers wrapped tightly around his throat, unable to breathe and saliva escaping from his lips, you knew that he’s gone too far.

you had come up to him, begged him to stop. pulled his fingers away from his throat by force. after an hour of coaxing and coddling, he finally stopped for a week before continuing again. you knew that it wasn’t your problem to deal with, but you still felt so guilty about it.

kaiser told you that he loved you that night.

you dealt with him for another year. he was still so superficially obsessed with soccer; obsessed with crushing and destroying his opponents like the opposing teams on a chessboard. but you couldn’t bear it, he was nothing short of cruel to ness, and he was just like a monster when he was playing against another team. he smiled when someone on the opposing team started crying. he never treated you like that, but you didn’t want to take any chances. you knew that he would treat you just like that soon enough.

that day, you broke it off with him.

you knew that it would hurt you both, you knew that this decision would haunt your days forever. but you couldn’t deal with this anymore. you couldn’t continue to see the boy you loved spiral into insanity, with all of your efforts and begs going to waste. you were too horrified to tell him in person, so you only left a note.

over half of your once shared apartment’s furniture was destroyed that night after kaiser read the note.

he truly went insane. the one person who he ever truly loved, the one person who ever loved him, the only person who comforted him through his shitty childhood, gone and only leaving him a note. he went insane trying to find you; he texted you millions of times, called you and facetimed you thousands of times, but you never responded.

and now, at age twenty, kaiser still never moved on from you.

during matches, his eyes always scan the stands, thinking that maybe you’d come. maybe you got bored, or maybe you wanted to mock him, maybe you wanted him back, or maybe you just wanted to beat the crap out of him after drinking a bit too much. whatever the reason, kaiser just wants to see you happy. he wants to see you laughing. he doesn’t care if you don’t take him back; as long as you’re safe and happy and healthy, then he’ll be fine.

you weren’t fine. college was killing you, and you were still a virgin who never went out to parties. you still silently watched over kaiser; searching up his name often, reading news articles about him, and watching clips and videos of him on youtube. seeing him healthy made you happy, even if he wasn’t constantly in the best emotional state, especially in that strange blue lock facility that he went to when he was nineteen.

january twenty-sixth.

not only was bastard münchen playing against fc barcha today, but it also marked the fifteenth anniversary of when you and kaiser first met when you were both only five. today was the day where you decided that for the first time in three years, you would go see kaiser play. just as a physical to see if he was okay, and for no other reason. no, this because you missed him. no, this wasn’t because you were still in love with him and just wanted to see him again and wanted to know if he still loved you. surely, he wouldn’t even see you. nope, nope, not at all.

at least, that was what you hoped.

you sat in your plastic blue seat of the stadium, waiting to see kaiser again. you weren’t used to this; you were always in vip seats at his game, and this was the first time you weren’t. oh well, it was still watching the same game at the end of the day. plus, vip seating would only make it easier for kaiser to see you.

as kaiser stepped out and onto the plastic green grass, his eyes scanned the crowd once again. this would be the last time he will ever do this; if you’re not even going to be here today, then he’s sure that you’ll truly never attend any of his games. he knows you best and you know him best, after all.

left to middle. no sign of a goddess like beauty anywhere, so you weren’t there. middle section. no sign of an angel anywhere either, so you weren’t there. finally, there was only the right left. please, kaiser begged that you would be there. even if you were on your phone the entire match, kaiser couldn’t care less.

one by one, his eyes drifted through the crowd as he nearly reached the end. his eyes slowly dimmed; were you really not there? was he really never going to see the love of his life again? but then he reached the end, and his eyes widened, glimmering underneath the sunlight. and despite the fact that it was a harsh winter, the warmth and love in his eyes could melt all of the ice and snow outside.

it was you.

your eyes locked for a moment, and in that moment, there was no one else. for a moment, soccer didn’t even matter. it was just you and him. he mouthed your name, your eyes widening a fraction, before you turned red and looked away. kaiser almost laughed out loud before walking away to the center of the stadium, feeling as if he could score fifty goals. you really came; he really got to see you again.

during the match, every damn time kaiser scored a goal, he always made some sort of gesture to you, whether it’d be blowing a kiss to you or waving to you or just staring intently at you, the media went crazy over it—because it was just so obvious that those gestures were meant for you.

after the match, you walked through the stadium as quickly as you could, wanting to leave and not wanting to get bombarded by the media. you completed your task; you came to see if kaiser was okay. and he clearly was perfectly fine, so you had nothing to worry about.

that was until you felt the calloused grasp of a hand on yours.

it’s been three years, but you could recognize that feeling anywhere. the exact same way of lacing your fingers together, the exact same warmth and same feeling. the exact same hand.

mihya’s hand.

you turned around in a flash, tears brimming at your eyes unknowingly. why were you crying? you weren’t supposed to get emotional over seeing him again. not until you saw the tears stinging mihya’s eyes, tears glossing over his eyes like the most expensive and yet beautiful porcelain china.

your mihya.

“mihya…?” you mumbled, your voice the hum of a lullaby. you expected yells if this were to happen, you expected interrogations and questions and threats, you expected blackmail, you even expected to get hit by him.

but none of that came.

only the feeling of another hand tilting your chin up before cerulean eyes glimpsed into yours, looking at you as if you were the most precious and beautiful thing in the world.

“you’re as beautiful as the day i lost you.”

a/n: YES A HOW TO TRAIN YOUR DRAGON REFERENCE EEEEEE

[whimsiwitchy]

Controversially Young Girlfriend 

Hugh Jackman x popstar!reader 

series masterlist & main masterlist

summary: y/n is a globally beloved pop star. She is known for her talent and dedication towards her craft. Recently, she has also been known for her preference for older men. After a breakup with her former older boyfriend, she had a run in with the hottest dilf right now, Hugh Jackman. Y/n tried to warn him, but what can she say, she has an effect on hot, older men. 

warnings: age gap (23/55), cursing, y/n used, implied shorter reader, afab reader, she/her pronouns. 

warnings will change as the story progresses! all descriptions of real people in this story are FAKE. i do not know these people and this is purely fiction. Please let me know if I missed anything! <33

authors note: this is an idea I had that I really needed to write. I’d love to make this a series if you guys want more, just let me know! This is only my second time writing fanfiction and my first time writing for Hugh, please be nice lol. Thank you for reading! <3

Part one: breakup and new beginnings 

Being a young girl living in the middle of bumfuck nowhere made it seem impossible to live your dreams of becoming a singer. You grew up in a tiny little town in Louisiana called Minden. With a population of less than 15,000 people, the closest ‘big’ city being Shreveport, growing up was pretty boring. You had big dreams of making it big and making it the fuck out of the country. Minden wasn’t always so bad. It was a nice community that had fun things here and there, but you craved more. 

Once you graduated highschool back in 2020, you focused on working and saving as much money as you could, only buying essentials and equipment to help make music. You took a few online classes on producing and tried your best to make whatever song was bouncing around in your head come to life. It took a year for you to feel confident enough to release your first few songs out into the world. So in July of 2021, you teased a song on TikTok to your small following. You started to gain a few more followers here and there, it was exciting. At the end of August, you released your first song titled ‘to the point’ and it blew up on the clock app. You gained a hefty following after that, on the brink of hitting one million. 

By the end of 2022, deciding on Los Angeles, you had finally saved enough money to move, so you were packing your bags and heading out. Your agent was ecstatic about the move because it meant more opportunities for your career. After releasing a few more songs over the past year, you hired Stacy to help you manage everything. 

Fastwording to 2024, your dreams have come true and you have been an established and respected artist for almost two years. You started to build a reputation as someone who was dedicated and passionate about their craft- always being involved in any creative process. It was bliss. Lately though, you’ve gained another reputation, the controversial young girlfriend, a whore, a gold digger. Since you’ve been in the spotlight, you’ve had your fair share of dating history and if they all happened to be older men, so what? It wasn’t something you had planned on but older men were just built differently. They were so much sexier and put together than the guys your age. They knew what they were doing and how to treat a woman right. You were so tired of being asked out through instagram direct messages, you wanted someone who wasn’t afraid to talk to you in person, and that seemed to only come from men twice your age. You weren’t complaining though, you enjoyed it. 

Your last ‘scandalous’ relationship ended up being far more public than you intended it to be. In the beginning, the men you were seen with were never anything serious, just dates or one night stands. Though with Pedro it was different. You dated him for six months before it all came crashing down and you felt heartbroken. He was the sweetest man you’d ever been with and it all ended because the hate from fans on our age gap was too much for him. It was an ugly breakup and you were positive that he wouldn’t want to be associated with you anymore, even as friends. 

-

“I should have picked a different song.” You huff in frustration. Today you were going to be performing on BBC’s Radio 1 Live Lounge and as requested, you'd be performing your own song and a cover of your choosing. When Stacy first presented this opportunity to you, it had only been a month after your recent breakup and naturally you chose to cover ‘THE GREATEST’ by Billie Eilish. Now that you were mostly over Pedro, the song seemed silly to sing and you weren’t feeling as vocally confident now that you were here. 

“Babe, you’re gonna kill it! Just let your emotions flow, give the fans what they want.” Stacy is sitting across the room as she comforts you. She’s fidgeting with your vocal humidifier, attempting to put it together before you start warming up. Her advice isn’t terrible, she’s right. You’d been pretty silent on the subject matter, steering clear of social media so you wouldn’t say anything stupid. Rumors of your breakup had been all over the headlines but there hasn’t been confirmation from either of you. Singing this song today would definitely stir the pot again and make everyone realize that it is done between you two. 

“You’re right.” 

“As always. Here, start warming up the money maker.” She laughs while handing you the humidifier. 

“I really hope he doesn’t watch it. I’d literally smash my head into a brick wall out of embarrassment…” 

Placing the humidifier over your mouth and nose, you sit there letting your mind wander. Having your personal life exposed to everyone really sucked and hiding your boyfriends wasn’t something you wanted to do, but you knew that in the future it was something that would have to happen. 

“I think I’m taking a break from men.” You let out proudly, glancing over at Stacy. 

“Whatever you say girl.” You could hear the doubt lingering in her tone and the roll of her eyes. 

“Ugh… You don’t believe me do you? I can totally break off from men and be my own person for once.” 

“I’m not trying to doubt you babe. It’s just…You tend to attract men like a magnet and you have some severe daddy issues.” She's typing away on her laptop as if she didn’t just completely disrespect you. 

“I don’t have daddy issues.” You say flatly. “I happen to have a very loving father who was always present in my life, so the whole dating older men thing does NOT stem from daddy issues. Thank you very much.” You say matter of factly. 

“Hm..Well I give it a week.” 

-

After a few sound checks for your mic and band, you perform your first song. You chose a more upbeat song off your debut album to start, given that you were about to lay your heart out of the line. It was honestly kind of awkward performing in this setting. There was a booth in front of you that had the sound board and all of the other electronic stuff that you didn’t understand. Then right to the left of that, the cameras were positioned with a group of crew members sitting behind them. It always felt awkward performing to smaller audiences. 

The first song went by smoothly, earning a few cheers from the people in the room. As the band prepared for the next song, you could see the door in the booth open and two figures walk in. You weren’t wearing your glasses or contacts since it was supposed to be a short day, so you really couldn’t make out who had just walked in. You assumed more workers came in and brushed it off. 

“All ready?” A man behind the camera asks and you give a thumbs up. 

You somehow managed to get through the song without having any vocal mess ups. It was a challenging song and you'd definitely have to text Billie later to give her some credit. A few tears slipped here and there, feeling the emotions that you thought were gone slowly be released. You pulled yourself together and you felt really proud of the performance as a whole, showing the world the potential your voice had. 

A few soft claps are dying out as everyone starts cleaning up the room. You’re reaching down to grab your water bottle when you feel someone rushing up towards you. 

“Ahhh you did great babe but um two hot dudes will be walking through that door any second!” Stacy is whispering and all you could do was give her a confused look before the door opens. You squint trying to make out the two figures. 

“God you’re talented!” You hear the voice before you see the face. 

“Oh um, thank you so much.” You let out not really sure who you were speaking to. Once the two men get into view, your jaw drops slightly. 

“HOLY SHIT!” You yell a little too loudly. Slapping your hand over your mouth, you hear a very rich man laugh coming from a very good looking man. For some reason, whoever is in charge of the fate of the universe has blessed you with the presence of Ryan Reynalds and Hugh Jackaman. 

“Oh my god i’m so sorry, that’s literally so embarrassing. I just couldn’t see who you were at first.” 

“It’s okay sweetheart.” They both wear big smiles on their faces. 

“I’m y/n, it’s so nice to meet y’all, i’m a big fan!” You gush out, trying your best to refrain from fangirling. 

“We’re big fans as well. We were next door interviewing for the radio show, when we heard you were recording over here. We ran over here to try to catch you.” Ryan lets out. 

“No shit! That’s so cool. I really appreciate it.” Before the conversation could continue, Ryan is being called over by someone, leaving Hugh and yourself alone. 

“Hows Pedro, haven't seen him in awhile.” Hugh asks genuinely, giving you a small smile. It caught you off guard completely. You racked your brain trying to think of a time in your six month relationship that Pedro mentioned Hugh at all but nothing came up. 

“Oh I uh- I wouldn’t know. We aren’t together anymore.” Your voice is soft, trying not to make this any more awkward. 

“Shit. I’m so sorry, with the way he spoke about you, I thought you’d be together longer…” He trails off. 

“Yea me too.. he couldn’t handle the heat I guess.” You shrug. 

“Well, his loss yea?” He smiles trying to cheer you up. 

“Yea..” You say softly, your voice matching your smile. You take a moment to really look at him and he’s beyond handsome. He’s aged but in a way that makes you wish you were able to see the years go by with him. He was tall, almost towering over you, and his muscles were practically popping out of his shirt. 

The same guy that was walking to Ryan, gathers the three of you for a picture for the BBC socials. You stand in the middle, both men placing their arms behind either side of you. Hugh’s hand was placed on the small of your back. You looked up at him quickly, his face already smiling at the camera. You hear the camera go off a few times, causing you to look that way as well. Once the cameraman was satisfied, everyone gave their goodbyes and the room cleared out. 

-

Later that night you were scrolling through your phone when a text popped up from Stacy. 

Stacypoo <33: I told you. You couldn’t even go a week. ;) 

The text is accompanied by a screenshot of a notification stating that “‘thehughjackman’ started following you!”. You rushed to open instagram and went to your followers to search from his name. You stared at his page for a few minutes before following him back. 

While you had control over your own social media, someone handled all of your business related content. You went on your page to see that the picture that was taken at BBC earlier today was already posted with one comment standing out beyond the rest. 

Thehughjackman: Great meeting you sweetheart! :)

Thank you for reading <3

part two

[muxshwriting]

alone together

Seth Clearwater x reader

summary: your boyfriend doesn't realise his own strength. it doesn't usually bother you until you realise that he's leaving something more permanent with his hugs || warnings: bruises, being loved to death, mentions of insecurity (like one sentence), characters aged up to like 18ish || word count: 921 || masterlist

The moment Seth imprinted on you, he knew the rest of his life would be perfect. He'd heard from the others how amazing it felt to find your imprint but no one truly prepared him for when he first saw you. You'd been friends before he shifted but when he saw you again months after that, when he truly saw you, it was like nothing else in the world.

You spent almost every evening at the Clearwater's, your own parents understanding how much Seth meant to you. He quickly became your everything, your day was never good unless you saw him. And your day was never perfect until you were wrapped up in one of his hugs.

"Better?" His arms wrapped around you until they were pressing into your skin. Sometimes you needed to feel like your body wasn't yours, that you and him were one and the same so that his perfectness might rub off on you.

You hum in response, burrowing further into his neck and relishing in his warmth. The pair of you are sitting on the sofa at his house, simply taking time to be with each together without needing to do anything else. "Just a rough day."

His touch sooths you as his comforting weight around your midsection deepens and calms the feeling crawling through your chest. "You wanna talk about it?" His voice is muffled against you but the concern in it has your heart melting.

"No. It's getting better."

"Happy to help."

Almost a week later you're helping Leah bake some cookies for the pack at her house. Seth's out on patrol with a few of the other boys. You lean against the counter before going back to upright with a hiss of pain.

"You okay?"

Your eyes widen as you turn to Leah. "Yeah. It's fine."

"It doesn't sound fine."

"It's just a bruise."

Leah seems to relax that it's not serious. "Oh. How did you bruise your side? Fell off the bike or what?"

You laugh at her suggestion but don't answer the question.

"How'd you do it?"

"Um... It's from Seth."

"From my brother Seth? Your imprint? My little brother Seth?" Leah's face turned cold as her mind ran to the worst possibility.

"Not on purpose!" You're trying to reassure her but it only makes her more suspicious. "I had a rough day at work and stuff ad I just needed him to hold me. But with his wolf strength I guess he hugs a little too tight. I didn't even notice until a couple days ago."

Leah ran her hands through her hair, pulling at it slightly as she processed what she heard. "Does he know?"

"I don't want him to worry. Or not hug me because of it."

"Show me."

Slowly, you pull up the hem of your shirt, revealing the bruised and inflamed skin of your side and bottom of your ribs.

Leah has a sharp intake of breath as she sees the extent on your injury. "We might need to tell my mom about this."

You pull your shirt back down, gently wrapping your arms around you as if to shield yourself. "It's fine." You dismiss.

"It's really not." Leah argues. "Just let her check."

She's not giving in anytime soo so you concede. "Okay. But I don't think she can do anything about it. She's just gonna tell me to put a heat pack on it, which is why I have Seth."

Seth, at that very moment, comes back from patrol and waltzes in. "What do you have me for?" He presses a kiss to your forehead, wrapping an arm around your waist. It takes everything in you to not hiss as he rests his hand on the bruise as Leah raises an eyebrow at you.

"Don't worry about it." You kiss him back, letting you senses be surrounded by him for a moment before Leah clears her throat.

"It's not nothing. Tell him."

Seth, ever oblivious, asks "Tell me what?"

You sigh, reaching for the hem of your shirt but not lifting it yet. "You know how I had a rough day last week?"

"Yeah..."

"And you hugged me really tight cos I asked you to?"

"Yeah."

"It kinda left a bruise. But it's fine! Leah's making it out to be a much bigger deal than it is and all I need is my personal hot water bottle and it'll be healed in no time." You lift the hem of your shirt to show him and Seth immediately starts fussing.

"Babe, this is a big bruise."

"It doesn't hurt that bad." Just at that moment Seth rests his hand on top and you can't stop the groan you let out. "...Only when I touch it."

"I want my mom to look at it."

"That's what I said!" Leah cried.

The two siblings started talking over one another about the best thing to do, whether they should go right now, whether you should even move or if it's best for you to go to bed. Their voices grew louder than just talking and you felt yourself shrinking back from them.

"I'm sorry."

Seth's mood immediately charges as he cups your face. "You don't need to be sorry for anything, okay? I'm sorry I did this to you."

"I don't want you to be sorry."

"Why don't we just go upstairs and cuddle, yeah? More gently this time."

You nod in response.

"Mom can have a look later. Let's just do nothing."

"Do nothing together?"

"Of course."

[hairmetal666]

Steve has done interviews before. Like, a lot of interviews. YouTube, podcasts, print, TV stuff. Not as a brag, or anything, just. He's been an influencer for a long time, for better or worse, and it's part of the deal.

Usually, he's comfortable in front of the camera. Usually, he's poised and well-spoken. But today, this time, sweat pools under his arms and beads along his hairline, the lights beating down on him in a harsh glare.

"Steve Harrington," Murray Bauman crosses his legs, smiles big for the cameras. "It's been a while."

He smiles too, tries to seem like he's not about to have a panic attack. "I've been a little busy."

Murray laughs and it's then that Steve understands how screwed he really is. Murray's show, it's all glitz and glamour on the surface; mixed drinks and hijinks until the celebrity guests lose their inhibitions, admitting things they probably wanted to keep secret.

It's just that, before, Steve didn't have any salacious rumors to worry about, and now--

"You've had a rough year, Steve, yeah?"

"Not my best, for sure." He leans back, tries to seem calm, unbothered.

"I was sorry to hear about your divorce. I think that announcement really took a lot of people by surprise."

His hands clench, but he manages not to shift or bounce his leg. "Thanks for, uh. Yeah. We were also sorry it didn't work out."

Murray nods, face full of sympathy. "You and Nancy, you'd been together since high school? That's almost--what? 15 years?"

"It's--" he clears his throat. "About that long." Steve takes a sip of the drink next to him, an apple martini that's both too sweet and too strong.

"Am I right to assume that you didn't see it coming?"

And isn't that a question? Sure, now in hindsight, he can see the fractures that lead to the end, but six months ago did he--it's all so--what if all along--

"All marriages have rough patches," is what he says. "We just couldn't come out of ours as a couple."

"Do you know what I've found really remarkable about this phase of your life? The content and tone of your videos in the midst of the maelstrom of rumors and gossip didn't change at all. 'Your kids' as you call them, are still as bright and vibrant as ever. You're laughing, dancing, cooking, having a great time."

"I needed that--that normalcy you know? And the kids, they're such an important part of my life, having them around helped."

"Including Nancy's brother, Mike?"

Steve laughs and it's not fake. "Totally including Mike. My relationship with Nancy has nothing to do with my relationship with him."

"He's kind of an antagonist--would you say?--in your videos, though."

"We have conflict sometimes, but it's never serious. We know how to play it up for laughs."

"So, nothing's changed between you?"

"Not at all."

"The cheating rumors." Murray's smile is soft, but all the air still leaves the room.

"What about them?" It's more combative than he means, but--

"Did Nancy cheat on you with Jonathan Byers?"

He swallows and it hurts. She did cheat, is the thing. It's not public information, still only speculation, but--

"You can't believe everything you read, Murray."

"So, she didn't cheat?" There's a glow to Murray's eyes that tells Steve he already knows the answer.

"Like, I said before, marriages are hard. We spent a lot of time apart because of our jobs. It took a toll."

"And she was traveling with Jonathan, yes? He's been her photographer for the past decade, from what I understand."

"They were co-workers, but we're all close. And those rumors didn't help our relationship, for sure. It's--not easy to hear that a bunch of people think your wife and close friend may be having an affair, that people 'ship' them. Even when it's not true, it creates--"

"Tension? Distrust?"

"Both, probably." He takes another drink as he nods. "After a while you do start to wonder if there's truth to it, and you're too ignorant or too--too trusting to see it."

"And it eroded the relationship."

"It certainly didn't help." He takes another drink.

"And how about your relationship with Jonathan's brother, Will. Has that been impacted?"

"Of course not. Never. Whatever happens between Nancy, Jonathan, and I, it has nothing to do with the kids. They know that.

"You talked about it."

"Yes. Extensively."

"I know there's often speculation on the relationship you have with them; if you're really close or it's all for the cameras."

"Murray." He leans forward. "We've talked about this before. I met Dustin through Mike, and the whole group followed. I've known them all since they were 8 years old. They're--I mean, not to be cliche, but they're my family." He sips the last bit of martini.

"And where does Eddie Munson fit into that family?"

The question shouldn't be a surprise, but he almost does a spit take, has to fight to keep it together.

"Eddie?"

"Yes." Murray's smile is chilling. "Your close friend Eddie Munson. Musician. Plays Dungeons and Dragons on YouTube. You made out with him in a music video. Ringing any bells?"

"I'm familiar with Eddie," his grin is rigid. "I don't know what that has to do with my marriage ending."

"Well, the rumors weren't all about Nancy, were they?"

"Eddie and I have--we became mutuals online years and years ago. I used one of his songs in a video and the kids are obsessed with his dnd stuff, so. We've become close."

"Friends?"

"Isn't that implied?"

"After that music video, I don't think so."

Steve rolls his eyes, lets the irritation show for the first time. "He asked me to be in his video. There's nothing scandalous about it."

"What's your relationship with Eddie right now?"

"Like I said, friends."

"Do you want it to be more than that?"

"Eddie's really important to me."

"Is that all?"

"Not really sure what you want me to say here, Murray."

"You were married to a woman for years, but now there are questions about your sexuality."

He grits his teeth. "My sexuality isn't anyone's business aside my own. People can say shit on Twitter all they want, that doesn't mean they know me. But--the end of my marriage--it definitely gave me the space for self-discovery, I guess? In a way I hadn't had before."

"And is Eddie a part of that self-discovery?"

"Yeah, as one of my closest friends, he is."

"Do you have feelings for him?"

"That's--that's not--I'm going through a divorce. My focus isn't on starting another relationship right now."

"You, famously, tattooed your initials on the inside of his thigh during an Instagram live. That's pretty intimate."

"We were just having a little fun."

"Huh. That seems like more than 'a little fun' to me. So, how's Eddie doing with the increased attention?"

It takes Steve a second to track the change of subject, mind still stuck on the tattoo, on how the ink had looked on Eddie's pale skin.

"It's hard." Steve eventually answers. "Of course he enjoys bringing his music and dnd to a wider audience, but the focus on his personal life is--it's a lot."

"Well, he should have thought about before letting you tattoo him for your 850,000 followers. Does he want a relationship with you?"

His throat is dry, burning, he wishes he had more martini. He wishes he'd never taken a sip. "You'd have to ask him. I'm just taking it day by day, you know? That's what I need right now."

"We're getting to the end of our time, but you know I have to ask. Your best friend, Robin Buckley, she very famously unfollowed both Nancy and Jonathan on all social media when news broke about your divorce. Can you tell us why she unfollowed them?"

"I have no control over Robin's accounts. I didn't even know she followed Jonathan ever, and she and Nancy have a relationship outside of me, you know? I can't say what happened between them."

"She's been in your videos with Eddie. She like him?"

"Very much. It's kind of annoying actually. They keep ganging up on me."

"Much to everyone's delight, I'm sure. So, what can we expect from the newly single Steve Harrington?"

"There are a couple things in the works, but only time will tell."

---

He walks through his front door an hour later, and Eddie's sitting on the couch, playing a soft melody on an acoustic guitar. He stops when he sees Steve, setting the guitar aside, and standing.

"How'd it go, baby?" He asks. His soft smile is so beautiful, Steve gets a lump in his throat.

"As expected." He crosses the space between them, lets Eddie pull him close.

"He ask about us?" Eddie's breath tickles his ear.

"Of course."

"And you--"

"I want--it should be just for us. We should be able to announce when we're ready. Not when Murray-fucking-Bauman asks."

Eddie kisses him, then, sweet and slow, making him lose his breath.

"Whenever you're ready, I'll be right by your side."

"You sure? All my mess--"

"Is mine too. Afraid you're stuck with me for the long haul, Steve Harrington."

[ultimate-shipper-blog]

My Darling

"Who even is that guy?"

"That's my darling"

----

It starts with a post.

Eddie had posted a photo on Instagram holding his acoustic guitar, cross legged on a chair.

Recently he had been front cover of a magazine of 'him' wrapped around a young woman. Living the Rockstar life.

His agent had suggested he show a more domestic side to him, a softer side.

Hence the acoustic.

It was summer so Steve was off of work and sleeping on the couch behind him, blankets up to his ears. The only thing visible was his hair peeking out and his arm hanging over the side of the couch. A sleeve of tattoos running down it all the way to his knuckles. Eddie loved that arm. He loved the way the tattoo curved around his knuckles like water. His nice, big. veiny hand that-

WOAH off topic.

He had done half the tattoos himself and made sure he payed for it all.It was the least he could do for all Steve has done for him.

They met eight and a half years ago, Steve had seen Eddie play at shitty clubs and recognized his mop of hair getting hit in the alleyway.

Eddie thought he was a goner for sure until Steve ripped the guy off him.

Steve just shot him a smile and complimented his guitar skills.

Eddie fell to his knees. He was gone for him.

He invited Steve to band practice as a thank you since he didn't have much to offer.

Two weeks later they were dating and Steve has been their number one fan since.

When Eddie got the record deal he dedicated everything to Steve.

Everything always was for him. As it should be.

Anyways,

Eddie posted the photo excited to promote the acoustic cover of his hit song 'My Hero, My Darling'.

The comments instantly went ballistic asking who the random man behind him was. He definitely wasn't in the band and why would notorious lady killer Eddie Munson have a man in his house...he couldn't possibly have friends.

Eddie responded to one comment only, knowing the rest would sort itself out.

"That's my darling ❤️"

----

"Eddie," Steve was frowning at him, poking his side with his foot.

"Eddie look at me this is serious."

"Yes my love?"

"You outed yourself. You were doing such a good job keeping this a secret. This will change everything."

Eddie turns over until his holding Steve close to him, his face in his hands.

"Good. I'm tired of hiding you my darling. I'm tired of the accusations."

"But Eddie you OUTED yourself."

"I won't say anything about you, I'd never out you Stevie. But I'm done hiding that I'm a simple man in love."

"...me too. I'm done too."

"Darling are you sure? This is a big deal. What about your school? Your principal?"

"I don't care. Everyone important to me knows. My family, my real family, know and don't care. They do wonder why I've been single for eight years but they'll get over it."

"Marry me."

"What?"

"Marry me oh my god that's the hottest thing I've ever heard. I love you so much please I can't live another moment not having you mine. Besides, if you get fired that's definitely a lawsuit and you know I've been pleasing for you to quit so I can take care of you, but you love those damn kids. Just...be mine...please."

"I've been yours. Since the start. Since always." They both have tears in their eyes.

"Yes?"

"YES OF COURSE YES!"

They're giggling through their kisses.

---

"Heeeeyyy everyone thanks for joining my live. I have something super important to inform you on! I'm getting married!!!!!"

The comments instantly flood in questioning him on moving too fast, asking if he's on drugs. The usual.

"Oooooh you guys have no idea."

----

The photo goes up an hour after the live ends.

It's Steve sitting on the couch, glasses on, red pen in his mouth. He's wearing a thick sweater and grumbling grading papers.

He looks so soft, so smooth, it's Eddie's favorite picture. The next picture in the carousel is Steve backstage at his concert. They're holding onto each other like they need each other to breathe.

The last picture is a selfie taken minutes after. Eddie with his stage makeup sweating off his face smiling brightly at the camera. and Steve kissing his cheek. Eyes squinted shut and eyeliner thick, he had worn it as a treat for Eddie.

It was well received.

The caption reads:

"I'm so happy to announce I'm marrying my best friend and partner of eight years! Everyone meet my darling. Steve is a local middle school teacher who has literally saved my life more than once. He saved my heart. God, I love him so much.

P.s. yes the tours are in the summer so Stevie can travel with us. I'd never leave him."

---

Bonus engagement edition:

"YOU'RE GETTING MARRIED TO EDDIE MUNSON?!"

"Yes. We've been over this."

Eddie stuck out his hand to shake, "hi, Eddie Munson, nice to meet you."

"YOU HID THIS FOR EIGHT YEARS?!"

"Yes."

"I'M BASICALLY YOUR BROTHER! HE'S MY FAVORITE CELEBRITY!"

"Yes Dustin and you can't keep a secret."

"...fair...welcome to the family."

*inspired by my friend only learning her cousin was marrying someone famous when he showed up to Thanksgiving and she lost her mind