#if ANYONE had to make him laugh.... surely...

[reignpage]

The Other Woman

Pt 1

The doctors and psychologists said it’d be great for your husband’s well-being to be with friends and family. And for the most part, that’s proven true. 

Insisting on welcoming Satoru back properly, his students organised a party and invited anyone who had a remote connection with their teacher. Even Nanami had taken time off from work to be here and had given a polite pat on his shoulder and a genuine greeting. 

That brought a huge smile to the white-haired man who pounced on the poor guy without remorse, giggling about how he knew he ‘always liked him really’. It felt great to watch him be surrounded by and showered with so much love and support, the kind he deserves; you could tell it was bringing life back to him. After all, it must have been painful for him to have been cooped up in the house trying to reconcile his new reality with the one he remembers. 

You keep reminding yourself of that. 

Satoru needs this. 

He needs normalcy. The normal he remembers, the normal he went to sleep thinking about and not the one he had suddenly woken up to, years passing him by. 

Everyone knows this. He knows this. Just as you do. 

So why is every person in the party sneaking you pitying and concerned glances?

Sure, no one could possibly think this is easy for you, to be the stranger that Satoru still gets surprised to see in the morning. The one he hesitates to say goodnight to, unsure of the boundaries, the etiquette, the right thing to do. He sometimes forgets to text you if he’s going out, shocked and annoyed, you’re sure, to see the many missed calls and messages from you. And you know he studies the picture frames all over your house like a textbook that would give him all the answer he needs.

All he gets, you’re willing to bet, is the realisation that you’re both the tether he needs to keep grounded, that guides him through the sea of memories he cannot touch, and the leash that binds him to a role he doesn’t remember signing up for. 

Are they looking at you with worry because of the inevitable toll this sudden shift has taken on your mental health or because your husband is talking to his ex-girlfriend the way he used to talk to you?

It can’t be the latter, right?

Because there’s nothing to be worried about. 

Satoru is simply catching up, trying to stitch up the crater-sized hole in his memory with a familiar face. There’s no reason for your hand to shake as you sip your drink or for your eyes to keep darting back over to them, sat alone at a table like they’re the only people in here. 

He’s laughing, throwing his head back and making that obnoxious cackle you love to hear. Loved. Because this one isn’t for you. It’s for her. The woman he shouldn’t be near, the woman he shouldn’t even think about, shouldn’t let touch his arm. 

You’re the wife. 

You’ve got the ring to prove it. 

He’s wearing it. Just not on the hand attached to the arm strung over the back of her chair like he’s protecting her from the rest of the world. Hell, maybe he is. Maybe his infinity is on and covering her. But you don’t have it in you to throw something at them to find out. Either result would be just as humiliating as the other. 

There’s nothing to be done. 

You can’t interrupt. 

Because Satoru needs to know what he said goodbye to all those years ago to know what he says ‘hey, pretty lady’ and ‘good morning, gorgeous’ to now. Or used to say. Now, you’re lucky if he even looks at you without shuffling his feet. 

Eventually, the night draws to its natural end. 

People bid their farewells twice, once to him and her, and then to you. Each time breaks your heart even more until you feel it crumble inside, little shards falling to pieces he won’t pick up. She stands before you, a small, shy smile, like she knows what she’s done. And says it’s ‘lovely to meet you’, and of course you can’t say it back. 

Not when you had been introduced by your name, ‘my beautiful wife’ going nowhere near the tip of his tongue as if those words had never been uttered by your husband. And not when she had been introduced in a hastily withdrawn, stuttered freudian slip of hell. 

“This is my girlfr— Sorry, I mean, my friend. From high school. Yeah, high school.”

Satoru blushes, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly as he waves goodbye to her. And you can tell he finds the act lacklustre, an uninspired, unnatural way to say goodbye to the woman you woke up to and slept beside. 

“Did you have a good time?”

He nods, a soft smile playing on his lip as he casts his gaze across the room, sweeping by the empty hall like he can still see every single person that came. “It was nice to see everyone and catch up.”

You’re thankful he doesn’t ask if you enjoyed the evening because you can’t lie to him but you also can’t tell the truth, can’t burden him anymore with the reminder that he doesn’t fill the shoes of your husband, that he continues to stumble with every step, dragging you down with him. 

So, instead, you fill the silence with a question that is so harmless, so normal it slips out before you can even think to anticipate the devastating crack that goes through your very soul. 

“Ready to go home?”

Satoru nods.

But he’s looking at a seat in the back. 

A seat that’s probably still warm. A seat you could never fill because you aren’t the woman he thought, hoped, he would marry. 

You’re just the woman he did. 

[suksatoru]

Sukuna is sure there's something wrong with you for loving him.

He's not lovable. He didn't even know how soft love could be until you came around. Sukuna is a brutally honest man, but he can't stop muttering the lie "I don't love you" against your lips even as he kisses you

He lies a lot to you, he realizes. He lies when he tells you that you mean nothing to him, he lies when his fingers dig into your skin as he reminds you you're replaceable. He lies when he says you're stupid—you have a brilliant and creative mind he adores

He thinks you'll slowly fade away like all the things in his life eventually do. He thought his love for you would slowly flitter and diminish with time and he'd stop thinking about you constantly

Unfortunately, Sukuna wasn't familiar with love. He didn't know how unpredictable it could be at times, or how it worked. It brought out parts of him he didn't even know existed.

"I was offered a job in another kingdom."

He looks down at you. You're laying on his chest right now. A single, delicate finger moving across the dark ink swirling on his skin as your face is pressed lovingly against his scarred body.

His large palm drags itself over the nape of your neck and towards the back of your head. He gently fists your hair and tilts your head upwards so you can see his scowl

"You're not going anywhere."

You smile. It makes his chest feel tight and his heart rate pick up as you slowly lift your head off of his chest, criss crossing your legs as you sit up on the bed beside him

"Who are you to tell me what to do?"

If anyone else had even dared to think the words, let alone speak them, Sukuna would've sliced their body into more pieces than they could ever count. But you're a fearless thing. While people tie toe around him, you dance around the King of Curses like you couldn't care less.

He smiles. The gesture feels odd but his lips naturally curl upwards at your remark. One of his hands lazily caress your thigh as he gently nudges the fabric of your night gown out of the way

"Who are you to try and leave? You belong here. With me." Sukuna says lowly, his voice dropping an octave as he looks at you through half lidded eyes. You can see the amusement in his eyes as his fingers wrap around your thigh, giving it a firm squeeze before you sigh

"But what if I wanted to leave? You said it yourself, I am not a priority of yours here." You press, leaning closer with a small pout on your lips as he scoffs

"I don't care." He mutters, not meeting your eyes as he looks up at the domed ceilings above him. Sukuna's room was never a place he used to enjoy being in. To him, the golden furniture and high, carved walls never made him feel anything at all

Now, in the mornings, he'd wake up to you peacefully sleeping beside him. Curled into his side, your presence had become an unshakable thing in his room. Slowly, it became a bundle of passion and love for him to exist freely in.

"Just say you're in love with me." You tease, your soft laughter slowly pulling his gaze away from the ceiling as he watched you crawl back onto his chest, pressing feather soft kisses onto his jaw

He lets out a breath through his nose, mentally preparing himself for the words that were about to leave his mouth as he puts his hands on your waist to steady himself.

"I...I do." he mumbles, more to himself as your raise your brows in surprise

"You what?"

He grits his teeth, wondering why you're making this so difficult for him. Sukuna glares at you silently, hoping you'll be able to push past his arrogant words and see the underlying message

"You know what. So shut up and go back to doing that stupid thing you were doing." He concludes, referring to when you were tracing his tattoos. You laugh louder as your eyes crinkle in amusement

"I have absolutely no idea what you're talking about. can you try that again, your highness?" You smirk, pressing your palm flat against his pec as he scowls

Don't give in to the brat. Don't give in to the brat. Don't give in to the brat. Don't—

"I love you."

The words come out strained, almost a whisper as he stares up at the ceiling. His grip on you is tight and he absolutely refused to look down into your eyes. He knows your lips are probably parted in shock. Your silence is long as he awaits a response, suddenly questioning if he'd said the right thing—

Both of your hands grab hold of his cheeks, slowly turning his face towards yours as one of his arms instinctively reaches out to pull you closer

Your voice is soft, but the warmth and relief that spreads through his chest is a welcomed sensation

"I love you too."

[natalievoncatte]

Kara heard a distinctive hollow pop as she approached Lena’s apartment. The doorman had been gracious enough to let her up, informing her that Miss Luthor was expecting her. She knocked on the door and listened intently. The soft clink of a bottle being set on a table and rather gentle passing of Lena’s feet on the hardwood floor. Kara resisted the urge to peer through the door.

When it swung in, she wished she’d had the chance to prepare herself. Lena was visibly distraught, eyes red rimmed from crying and cheeks puffy. She was dressed down in a a sweater and leggings, and couldn’t meet Kara’s gaze with her own.

It hurt. Seeing her like this physically hurt, gouging a dull ache into her chest. Her first instinct was to reach out and scoop the smaller woman into a tight hug, make her safe, to wall her in with her arms. Kara fought it down and sighed.

“You… don’t look so good.”

“Come in,” Lena said, her voice soft and flat. “If you want to hang out with a monster, that is.”

Lena turned and trudged back into the apartment as if she was walking to the gallows. She fell back into the couch and grabbed the wine bottle from the table, long since having abandoned the pretext of glasses.

“You’re not a monster, Lena.”

She stared at the bottle and took a long pull from it, the wine sloshing around the bottom.

“Yeah I am. You ever watch Godzilla movies?”

Kara blinked. “What?”

“Godzilla. Giant radioactive lizard.”

“Of course.”

Lena snorted a bitter laugh. “Monsters are born too large, too strong, too tall. That is their tragedy. Or something like that. Director of the movie said it. That’s me. I’m not trying to hurt anyone, it’s just in my blood. It’s who I am and I’ll never escape it.”

“That’s not true,” Lena said, softly.

She looked around the apartment, shocked to find dishes piled in the sink and two more empty wine bottles lined up on the kitchen island.

Kara quickly moved to the couch. Lena offered no resistance as Kara took the bottle. Lena stared as Kara took a long, glugging pull.

“There. Now you’re not drinking alone.”

Lena smiled weakly. Kara didn’t mind the taste of the wine but as far as getting her drunk, it was like pouring it down the drain. If she could keep Lena from alcohol poisoning, it was worth it. Kara felt a tug in her chest. Lena looked so soft, her big eyes wet with tears.

“I only wanted to help.”

“You did, Lena. You saved the world.”

“Children, Kara. Sick kids, dying because of me.”

“That’s not true, Lena. Edge is cooking the data, you know that. We’re going to clear your name and I’m going to help.”

“I’m so tired, Kara. My own brother tries to murder me once a week because I won’t help him try to take over the world. I keep getting kidnapped by my insane family and aliens and God knows who else and I’m tired. That woman today almost killed me. One of these times there won’t be someone to jump in front of the bullet and it’ll be my time.”

“That won’t happen.”

Lena shook her head, failing to fight back the tears. “I’m so tired of being everyone’s monster.”

“You’re not a monster to me, Lena. You are so good. You work so hard and care so much, and people don’t even know about your work at the children’s hospital, the reading to the kids. You’re a saint.”

Lena looked at her sharply. “How did you know about that?”

Kara thought, FUCK.

She fiddled with her glasses, knowing it was a tell.

“I um, well I am a reporter. I won’t tell anyone, I know you don’t want publicity.”

“Kara, I’m confused. I put a lot of effort into making sure no one knows I do that, so the kids don’t have to deal with the bullshit my life brings. Have you been following me?”

Kara licked her lips.

Just holding back the truth isn’t make it a lie, did it?

“More like keeping tabs, just to… keep you safe. To watch your back.”

Lena looked horrified. Kara’s chest seized and she thought for a moment that she’d gone too far.

“Kara, I don’t want you doing that. If Edge or my brother come after me and you’re in the way, they’ll kill you. You can’t risk that, you don’t deserve it.”

Lena grabbed her hands. “Listen to me, Kara. I have a target on my back. I have a price on my head. Sooner or later my number is going to be up and I’d rather die than have you be the one to catch the bullet. I just want you to be okay.”

“They won’t get you.”

Lena pressed her eyes shut and choked back a sob. “Yeah, they will. I’m living on borrowed time. It’s just a matter of the odds, in the end. Next time James won’t be there to take a bullet for me and Supergirl will be too busy and I’ll just be another monster on obituary page until-“

“Stop it!” Kara barked, shocked at the sharp snap of her own voice. “Stop it. I won’t let them.”

Lena’s eyes snapped open and she stared at Kara, more than a little shocked. Her hands tensed, closing tightly around Kara’s.

“Don’t put that on yourself. I’m not you’re responsibly and I don’t want you risking your life for me. It’s just not worth it.”

“You are worth it,” Kara insisted, shaking her hands a little as she leaned in. “You are, and I won’t accept that you’re not.”

“I love that you believe in me so much.”

Kara’s heart did a backflip. Love? She loved it? Lena was looking at her with such a softness in her eyes, and Kara scolded herself that she was drunk, that she might say things she didn’t intend or didn’t want to slip out.

“But,” Lena said, “you’re just one person, you can’t save me from this.”

Kara’s jaw set as she bit down on this pressure growing inside her, as if something had taken root in her chest and grown and grown inside until it made her ribs creak and her heart ache and it would split her open if she didn’t let it out.

She wasn’t drunk. She was lucid, clearheaded, but Lena was gazing into her soul with tear-filled eyes and she looked so small and vulnerable and resigned, like she was just waiting for her turn at the headsman’s axe.

Kara couldn’t take it. She couldn’t fucking take it, and the words came so easily she scarcely knew how she’d held it in for so long.

“I can protect you, Lena. I’m Supergirl. I can do anything.”

Lena’s soft expression twisted into a scowl.

“Bad time for a joke, Kara.”

Tenderly, as gently as she could, Kara guided Lena’s hand to her glasses.

“Go ahead.”

Lena hesitated, chewing her lip, eyes flicking strangely, gaze surveying Kara’s face- looking at her eyes, her scar, and in a way that pulled at Kara’s heart, her lips.

Slowly, carefully, Lena pulled the glasses free, visibly surprised by their weight.

“They’re lined with lead. It helps with sensory overload.”

Lena raised her now shaking hand and her thumb grazed Kara’s ear as she reached back to unclasp the clip holding Kara’s hair, allowing honeyed tresses to spill free across her shoulders and down her back.

“Look at me, Lena.”

Lena looked. Her expression flickered from pained annoyance to shock to something Kara couldn’t quite identify.

“You lied to me,” Lena whispered.

Kara bit back some lame excuse, like I never said I wasn’t Supergirl.

“I did, and I’m sorry. If this means your feelings about me have changed, that’s okay, but I won’t stop protecting you. I won’t let Morgan Edge or your brother or anyone hurt you. Never you.”

Kara’s jaw trembled as she spoke and her heart was racing.

Lena’s was doing the same, beating too fast in her chest. Kara carefully put her hands on Lena’s shoulders.

“Easy,” she said. “I know this is a shock.”

“When you caught me after… when you saved me from Lillian… when you… the helicopter… that was you?”

“Always, Lena. I’ll never let you fall.”

“Kara?” Lena whispered.

She was staring, but rather than meet Kara’s gaze, she was looking lower, eyes fixed on Kara’s lips. Kara’s gut did a backflip at the way Lena was looking at her, mouth slightly parted, flushed, her heart racing.

If Kara was human, she might pick up on those things, or she might not. She might be confused or briefly wonder if Lena was really looking at her the way it seemed she was.

Kara Danvers was not human. She could look up and see particles dancing across the atmosphere in hues for which humans had no names because their eyes were blinded to them. She could hear the rapid beating of Lena’s heart and see the heat blooming on her skin and taste on her tongue the tangy, pleasant musk of the pheromones Lena was emitting, and she could do it all so fast that her mind processed it so quickly that it could barely be measured. When Lena began to lean towards her, she watched it happen in curious slow motion.

When Lena kissed her, it was an explosion of sensation. Not just the soft warmth of her lips but her scent, her real scent breath the perfumes and sharp tang of wine smell, the pure scent of Lena herself. The soft sigh that broke from Lena’s lips was a symphony, and Lena’s hands on Kara’s flanks was like a blast of firecrackers running under her skin to ignite a sudden flare of warmth low in her hips.

Lena was kissing her. Kara was kissing her back, consuming every aspect of the contact in perfect detail, burning it into her solar-powered Kryptonian mind where it would live in perfect detail for the rest of forever.

She gently, oh so gently, pushed Lena back.

“Lena, stop.”

“Oh,” Lena murmured, her face falling. “I didn’t… I’m sorry… I thought… I misread…”

“No, no Lena it’s not that I promise, you’re drunk. You’ve had too much to drink and I can’t let you do anything while you’re like this, I couldn’t take it if you wake up tomorrow and…”

Lena blinked back tears.

“Oh my God. You really are a superhero, aren’t you?”

“I’m just being decent.”

Lena smiled sadly. “I don’t deserve you.”

“Well, you’ve got me, Lena. You’re not getting rid of me.”

Lena actually laughed, a bitter little chuckle that made her look away in embarrassment.

“I can imagine Lex seething if he found out about this.”

“Alex is going to kill me.”

Lena giggled. “Oh my God.”

“What, um, what is this, exactly?” said Kara, her voice cracking with tension. “I mean, you kissed me.”

“I did,” Lena said, guarded. “I’ve wanted to for so long. How does the saying go? In vino, veritas?”

“In wine there is truth,” said Kara.

“Yeah.”

“Lena, we’re going to get through this, I promise, and I will always protect you. Always. Right now I need to protect you from the hangover you’re going to have tomorrow. I’m putting you to bed, and I’m sleeping on the couch.”

“You don’t have to do that.”

“I don’t have to, but I need to know you’re safe, and you can’t get any safer than Supergirl crashing on your couch.”

Lena blurted, “I could have her in my bed.”

Kara thought her soul might leave her body.

“Not when you’ve had this much to drink.”

“God, you are amazing,” Lena sighed.

Kara nodded. “If you say so.”

It took a while for Kara to actually get Lena into her bed. Lena was suddenly taken with an extreme tiredness and Kara let her lean on her as they walked down the hall, fighting the urge singing in her veins, demanding that she pick her up and just carry her.

She may have been Supergirl, but even she had limits.

Once Lena was curled up in blankets and safe, Kara puttered around the apartment, doing the dishes, cleaning a little before she fell back on the expansive sofa to sleep.

When the warm morning sun woke her, she sat up and found Lena staring at her.

“I didn’t dream that. You’re really here.”

Kara rose from the couch and approached her tentatively.

“Yeah. I’m really here. Lena, if you’re angry with me because…”

Lena cut her off, darting forward to plant a soft kiss right on her lips. Kara froze as her brain essentially rebooted.

“Oh,” said Kara.

Lena smiled softly. She still looked bedraggled and had clearly been crying, but the smirk on her lips was everything.

[buck-star]

Mobsters obsession | B.B

>> He was obsessed with you — he didn't even know he could ever be obsessed with anyone. Not until you walked into his life and made him crave you like no one before. <<

Pairing: Mob!Bucky Barnes x Barista!Mom!Reader

Wordcount: 2.260 Words

Warnings: a lot of fluff, more fluff, sweet Bucky, even more fluff, did I mention fluff already, Bucky being obsessed

Authors Note: Divider made by me.

Events: Steve BB 200 Followers Celebration Writing Challenge [Bucky Barnes, Mob au, meet cute, “Be careful there, darlin’”] @steviebbboi

Alternate June-iverse [C4006, C2, Shop], Fandom-Free Bingo: Valentines Edition [Alternates Two, Meet cute], Multifandom-Flash Bingo [Row One-Two, It has been an honor]

Masterlist | Bucky Barnes Masterlist

He was never addicted to anything or anyone. Not once, and it won’t change — that’s what he thought. If someone had told him that he’s in the wrong, he would have laughed it all off.

James Barnes — most feared mobster in town — would never be addicted to another person. He’s feared; he’s respected by everyone. The mobster has no soft spot; otherwise, he has a spot that could be attacked without him having control over it.

Little did he know that one day, as he walked through the streets, he would ‘meet’ that girl that’s going to change everything. Little did he know that he would learn how addicted even the most feared mobster in town can be.

But there he was, sitting in the small coffee shop in the corner by the window and staring at the coffee in front of him. After he found out where you’re working, he couldn’t help but appear in the coffee shop every day just to sit there and watch you your whole shift.

James came to the shop when you opened it in the morning, and he didn’t leave unless your shift was over and you were home safe. He did that over two weeks now, his obsession becoming worse with every day.

He was so close to you, almost able to touch you. But he just couldn’t — not yet. You were the first woman who didn’t freak out around him. Of course, you looked at him with a careful, slightly curious expression first, but you were always offering him a soft smile.

So he was sitting at his place once again, the third cup of coffee in front of him as he watched you make some more coffee. You were just as sweet as the food and drinks you offer, except his one. And sometimes he wasn’t sure if you weren’t too sweet for him.

He listened to the conversation you had with your coworkers or with some of the visitors in the sweet little shop. You had a sweet tooth, loving everything that was with caramel and chocolate. While Bucky liked his coffee black, he liked meat over sweets — but still, he would rather eat sweets for every meal instead of letting you out of his sight.

James knows that you had good taste; you were always doing the decoration. It looked aesthetic, perfect. Just like he loved it too, and he was sure the two of you would be perfectly fine to decorate his house for every celebration and every season.

“Sir, do you need anything?” You asked him softly; his ocean blue eyes shoot up to meet yours, and he smiles softly. Your voice was like the most beautiful melody he has ever heard.

“No, thank you,” he said, looking at his coffee for a second before his eyes met yours once again. James' stare was intense, almost like he wanted to look deep into your soul, reading all your deepest desires and secrets.

You nodded and turned around just in the right moment when the small bell above the door rang. A smile creeped onto your face as the small frame of a girl rushed into the little coffee shop. Her giggles echoed through the room the moment she placed one of her little feet in the coffee shop.

“Mommmmmmy!” She giggled as she ran in your direction. James' eyes widened as he noticed the name she called you. You were having a daughter; why didn’t he know it before? Maybe because he focused more on watching you.

However, his eyes were then on the little girl in front of you. Her little fingers were gripping your thigh, and she smiled up at you. James noticed that she had the same eyes you had; her smile was just as prominent and soft as yours, and he looked pretty much like you.

“Hey, my sweet plum,” you cooed, running your fingers through her soft hair. “How was it at your grandparents?”

“Granny said they have an appointment, important, so they just let me out here, but we had lots of fun!” She nodded and grinned, then her face turned toward James, and she smirked even wider. “Hiiiiii!”

Your eyes widened immediately, and you placed your hand on her head to turn it away from the man. She wiggled out of your grip and grinned at James once again. A smug grin crossed his face as he watched the small girl.

“Hi,” James replied. His blue orbs roamed over her face and up your body until he reached your face. “Don’t worry, I won’t bite.”

You chuckled softly, nodding with a soft sigh. Your daughter walked closer to him, climbing onto the chair next to him until she was sitting on her knees. The girl placed her small arms on the table and leaned over. She tilted her head up and grinned at him. James felt like he’s looking at the younger version of you, and it made him go crazy.

He just wanted to take you both home and make sure that he could protect the two of them.

“Who you?” She asked. Her small fingers tapped on the surface of the table like she was the boss, and James had to answer her. He loved her attitude already; this girl was his little princess, and neither of you knew it just yet.

“My name is James, but you can call me Bucky. Who are you, little girl?” Bucky asked her, his voice sounding rough but still soft. You shivered, watching the scene in front of you. Since her dad left the two of you for another woman, you never had someone who interacted with your little girl like she was the sweet little princess she was.

But James looked at her like she’s his own daughter, and he didn’t even know her. Your heart fluttered, and warmth spread through your body.

“I’m plum; that’s what my mommy always calls me because I do love plums,” she smiled and giggled then as she turned toward you. “Do you have plums for me, mommy?”

You chuckled. “Yes, but I have to change and end my shift before. Can you come with me?” You asked, but your daughter shakes her head.

“No, I have sooo many questions,” she pouted. Her puppy dog expression made your heart melt, and you had such a hard time saying ‘no’ to her.

“I will take care of her until ya back here,” James said, looking up at you. He still gave you the opportunity to say ‘no’ but you nodded. There were enough people around who wouldn’t let him leave the coffee shop with your daughter. Plus, he may have been a mobster, but he wouldn’t do anything to someone who didn’t do anything wrong or needed to pay for a debt.

You sighed and chuckled, turning around to change your outfit and get your daughter's favorite food — plums. While you changed your outfit, James and Plum talked — or your daughter talked, and he listened to her with a soft expression.

His eyes never left hers, and when she threw her small arms around to show him how big the blackboard in kindergarten is, he instinctively placed his hand against the corner of the table so she wouldn’t hit herself.

“Be careful there, darlin’” he chuckled and helped her sit down straight again. “Don’t want ya to get hurt.”

And then she threw a lot of questions at him. And James answered everything honestly, or at least as best as he could. Because when it came to his profession, he didn’t tell her that he was a monster — for her, he was a businessman now, which wasn’t completely wrong.

When you came back to the table, they still sat there, talking about whatever. James' eyes were immediately on you as you walked around the corner, and he sighed softly when you walked closer, and he was able to smell the sweet scent of your perfume.

“Mommy! He said he’s a businessman, and he said he has a big pool!” Plum said excitedly and pointed with her small hands at Bucky. “Can we visit him, please?”

The puppy dog eyes once again, and how could someone deny them, but you couldn’t say yes without knowing or even asking James. Plus, he was still a mobster, and while you knew what that meant, your daughter didn’t.

“Sweets, it would be fun, but we don’t know him, and he’s a busy man, so don’t you think we should go home now?” You tried, voice soft, and you brought your hand to her head, stroking her hair softly. While you moved your hand down to the small of her back to push her from the chair and get her home, the brown-haired man grinned at you.

“Not too busy for ya, babydoll. Now knowing me now doesn’t mean you can’t get to know me, babydoll,” James smirked and got up as well. He placed a few dollars on the table and took his jacket from the side. “How about I ask you out, this little princess here, and I would agree, so it’s only you who has to agree.”

While your daughter watched you with the sweetest expression, James didn’t make it much easier for you with the soft smile and the nickname he just gave you.

No one treated you like that before; no one treated your daughter like that before. And for just a moment you forgot about his profession. But only for a moment.

“M-James… you’re… I don’t think people would like to see someone like me with someone fancy like you…” You mumbled, looking down while you played with your daughter's hair.

“Someone like you? Someone who’s always smiling like the world belongs to her? Someone who’s nice and can make the sun shine even on rainy days? Someone like you, who appreciates when she would get just a thank you instead of a tip?” He asked, looking thoughtful for a split second.

You just opened your mouth when you noticed that he had another thought. One you shouldn’t interrupt because he wasn’t finished with whatever he was about to say.

“I’m also just a human, and even though I’m rough and fearful. I just discovered that a woman I don’t even know became my soft spot. Please, give me the chance to get to know you, to let me love you — to let me love this sweet little girl — because I already do,” he continued, and you giggled softly.

You really didn’t mean to giggle, but he was just so adorable when he started to confess what’s going on in his mind. And suddenly it made all sense why he was in the coffee shop whenever you were working there.

Little did he know that you’re not just his soft spot, but that his actions, his daily smiles, and his softness toward you made you feel things you hadn’t felt in a long time. And seeing him acting so soft and lovely around your daughter — it makes you want to get to know him, to let him love the two of you. To give him the love he offers to you as well.

“Okay,” you mumbled and nodded. James' eyes widened, and he looked at you with an intense stare. He didn’t know if that okay was a yes. But his heart started to beat faster already, and he shifted slightly.

“So… is that a… a yes?” He asked and cursed himself for sounding so out of breath. But he just couldn’t help himself; he’s feeling like he needs you like he needs air.

“Yes, it’s a yes. I would love to get to know you better,” you grinned. Your daughter was already on her way out of the coffee shop toward Bucky’s car — he explained where he parked it and what it looked like to her.

“So… We’re going to mine; she can go into the pool and watch all the movies she wants while I cook for us, and we can get to know one another." You nodded once again. Bucky’s big hand placed itself in your back, and he led you out of the small coffee shop and into the freezy, autumn air.

“Let’s see if she still remembers what I said when I explained where the car is parked,” Bucky chuckled as he watched your daughter walking toward his car. Your heart is beating faster, and you feel warmth spreading through your body.

He has watched you for a while now, but he wasn't the only one who watched the other one. You studied him just as much as he studied you. And finally he asked you out — what you thought he would only do in your dreams — but luckily this was not just an amazing dream; this was Bucky really asking you and your daughter out.

“Lasagna?” You asked, watching him. His eyes roamed over your face, and he smirked. They showed nothing but softness and love, and he may have been the most feared mobster in town, but he was so much more. He was Bucky Barnes, a sweet and lovely man who knew exactly how to treat a woman right.

“Definitely lasagne with pudding as dessert.” He chuckled and opened the car before watching Plum get into it and sit in the driver's seat. She looked like she was going to drive the car then. “Maybe with some chocolate sauce. I know you have a sweet tooth; I do have one too, but just for you.”

Taglist: @pono-pura-vida @sergeantbarnessdoll @rogersbarber @kimmie113080 @sebastianstanisahotmf

[withmyloveasyourgarden]

NINE YEARS LATE

EDDIE MUNSON x F!READER

A yearly Halloween tradition, zombie films and best friends who touch too much for it to not mean anything. 4K of fluff. [Re-uploaded from my old blog]

When you met Eddie Munson at eleven years old, he pointed at your exorcist t-shirt and asked what your favourite horror movie was.

To anyone else it might have been strange, the way the boy's eyes were so bright, his expression caught between nervous and excited like nothing else at that time was more important than the answer you were about to give.

But you gave it with a shy grin and without hesitation, watching a little stunned as the boy brightened and his lips stretched wide into a beaming smile that, even then, left your heart warm and you completely powerless to resist the hand that circled your wrist and yanked you down onto the grass beside him.

He took a cookie from his lunchbox and pressed it into your hand, skin smudged with chocolate and pride in his voice when he told you how he had sneakily watched Night of the Living Dead when his uncle wasn't home and that was now his favourite.

You wrinkled your nose a little as you ate, unable to help the reaction because you didn't understand the zombie appeal, cheeks flushing when Eddie caught it too and threw both hands to his chest, his back hitting the ground with a thud as he flung himself down, like you'd personally betrayed everything he held dear.

"Don't tell me you don't like zombies!" He'd gasped in horror, struggling not to grin when he lifted himself up on his elbows and noticed, far too pleased, that despite the way you had hid your face in your hands, there was a telltale smile in your voice at his theatrics.

"I don't not like them exactly." You countered, eyes appearing above your fingers to watch the way the boy snorted and quirked a disbelieving brow in your direction before you allowed your hands to fall away, huffing. "I mean it! It's not that I hate them or anything, they just give me creeps."

He nodded at your shirt. "And demonic possession doesn't?"

"No?"

'Weirdo." He mumbled, voice soft, and then almost immediately winced, his eyes darting worriedly to yours because what if you didn't catch the way his tone turned fond as he said it? He didn't want you to think he was being mean like so many other kids were in Hawkins when someone wasn't like them.

But then you laughed, the sound clear and sweet, and there was relief in Eddie's chest mixed with a little awe, something innocently adoring because even though he would never admit it, he was pretty sure that was his new favourite sound in the whole world.

'Says the boy who thinks a zombie movie is the best horror." You teased, tongue poking out at him when he shook his head and aimed a playful little kick to your leg, scuffed trainers nudging at your thigh.

There was a moment of easy silence that followed, a few beats where the two of you shared soft, toothy grins before the boy ducked his head and you tipped yours back to gaze at the cloudy autumn sky, fingers twisting in the grass whilst joy swirled in your chests at this new found friendship.

It was impossible to miss the exact second he had the idea, the way he scrambled to sit upright, all long arms and gangly legs because even back then Eddie had been tall for his age. The grin that stretched his cheeks was wild, excitement crackling from him as he scooted closer until he was sat directly in front of you, knees brushing against yours.

"There's only one way to settle this." He blurted suddenly, pleased when your startled gaze turned instantly curious, body leaning forward to signal he had your full attention. "We have a movie marathon. You can come to mine and we can watch both of our favourites and maybe a few more and then we rank them."

You nodded slow, thoughtful , the sharp trill of the bell signalling the end of recess making you jump and Eddie groan. "Okay. That sounds fun. But what if we can't agree on what ranks first?"

Eddie rose ungracefully to his feet and you had to shield your eyes from the low burning sun when you looked up at him, light dousing him in gold that made his eyes look like pools of warm caramel when he grinned down at you and offered you his hand.

"Then we keep having marathons until we do."

**

Nine years later and you Eddie still hadn't agreed.

You were beginning to think you never would. Or maybe even if by some miracle you did, you still wouldn't tell the boy that had become your best friend the moment he'd asked you that question in the playground.

Because it had become your tradition now. These marathons that you had every October 1st without fail because that was the same date that you showed up at Eddie's door for the very first time, a box of cookies in your hand that your mom had sent you over with and a beaming smile that had matched his when he'd flung the door wide open and pulled you inside.

You weren't sure when it became your favourite day of the year or when Eddie became your favourite person but it did and so did he. Never happier than when you were surrounded by warm blankets with a hot chocolate cradled in your hands.

There was always plates piled with freshly baked goods on your laps, movies playing that you sometimes wouldn't remember the names of after and your face pressed to the boy's collarbone when things occasionally got too scary. His arm looped around your shoulder so he could murmur, soft and sweet, against your hair. "It's okay, it's nearly over."

You also weren't too sure when your feelings for your best friend began to change, only that they most definitely had.

He was still the same Eddie, your Eddie. He was big, warm eyes and startlingly pretty grins, an energy that made you think of bottled lightning, the kind you couldn’t tear your eyes away from, beautiful and utterly unruly.

He was all-encompassing hugs, tangled limbs in a too small bed when one of you stayed the night because even if you were to lay at the other end, the boy would somehow still find his way to you in his sleep, strong arms pulling you tight to his chest and a happy sigh on his lips.

But somewhere through the years, through the horrors that started on the screen where they should have stayed but then seemed to leech into your real lives, the familiar touches came more frequently and hands lingered long enough that it caused pulses to spike. Hugs got a little longer too, a little tighter.

There was a reluctance to let go when mornings came around, no longer shy or embarrassed when streams of pinkish gold filtered through the window and stirred you awake only to find the two of you were once again moulded around each other, fingers linked between your bodies.

Instead it felt right, like that was how you belonged. A Feeling that only grew with each year that passed.

Each October 1st that you refused any other plans because this was yours and Eddie's day. Every time you turned up to the other's homes, sitting a little too close on the couch than was considered friendly, eyes drifting to watch each other instead of whichever person was fighting for their lives on the tv when you thought you wouldn't get caught.

It grew, blooming wild and stubborn in your chest, snaking around each rib, until you were forced to admit to yourself that you were in love with him.

And that scared you more than any horror movie ever could.

**

"Sweetheart, you're supposed to be watching this, not hiding through the whole thing."

The admonishment in Eddie's voice was weak - too soft to be truly serious and even if you couldn't tell by the boy's tone, the way he grinned at you when you finally lowered your mug, with what he thought was the most adorable pout on your face, immediately gave him away.

It made you poke your toes into his jean clad thigh in retaliation, a choking gasp of faux betrayal bubbling past your lips when he caught at your ankle and tickled your foot with quick fingers before you could yank it back under the safety of the blanket he'd thrown over you earlier.

You were a lot less mad than you would have been had it been anyone else and christ if Eddie didn't know it, his eyes bright even in the low flickering light of the room and the pillow of his lower lip caught between his teeth to choke down a laugh as he threateningly wriggled his fingers at you once again.

Glaring at the boy across from you, there was a half hearted grumble to your voice when you aimed a nod towards the person being ripped apart by the undead horde on the screen and told him. "You know this wouldn't be a problem if you didn't bring a zombie movie nearly every year."

The noise he made in response told you that wasn't going to happen. But as he leant forward, stretching over to the coffee table to grab a cookie that he then practically inhaled, you could feel his eyes on you. The way he was silently checking if you actually thought the movie was too much or if you were just playing up because you liked to mess with him.

"You want me to turn it off? We could put the next movie on?" He asked in the way he always did, a little teasing but still sweet, touched with hope because you both knew what he would ask next when you shook your head, determined like you always were to sit through the movie just because Eddie loved it.

And you tried to not let it show on your face the way your heart fluttered and swooped in the cage your ribs when he opened his arms the moment you gave your answer, looking far more enticing than you thought a best friend ever should.

All wrapped in a large sweater with sleeves that drooped over his ringed fingers, cosy blankets tossed over his lap and curls still messy from the weather outside.

It really was unfair just how fucking pretty Eddie was.

"Wanna come here?" He murmured in a way that made your cheeks warm, your pulse jumping from fear that he'd caught the way you were staring and his lips tugging up into a soft grin when he added. "Promise I'll keep you safe from zombies."

You narrowed your eyes like it was an offer that you needed to consider - something that took a ridiculous effort considering how badly you suddenly ached to fall into the boy.

In return he rolled his own at the suspicious gaze that you flicked over him - from his fondly exasperated expression to the hands that made impatient little grabbing motions whilst you fought back a smile and warned. "Only if you don't tickle me again."

There was a soft snort when he laughed, grin turning impish as he took matters into his own hands and reached over to pluck your mug from your fingers, placing it on the table before catching you in a gentle grip. "I swear on Dustin's mother I won't tickle you again. Now c'mere."

And so you went - with a shake of your head to hide your smile, you let yourself be pulled into him.

Desperately trying to ignore the way your skin buzzed beneath his touch as he lifted the blanket and folded you tight into his side, waiting for you to throw your arm around his waist and swing your legs over his lap until there was no part of you left that wasn't pressed up against him.

He looked like he was trying and failing to hide how pleased he was as he drew the blanket over the two of you and you all but melted in his arms. Corners of his lips quirking and a soft dusting of pink creeping over his cheeks when his hand automatically began stroking over your hair and you let slip a quiet little sound that was half sigh, half moan - his body still burning despite the innocence of it.

For a little while after that an easy silence fell over you both, a sense of contentment that couldn't be broken by the sounds of gore that came from the screen.

Eddie smelt like Autumn with every slow inhale you took, like cold, night air and smoke, spice from the cologne you bought him two birthdays ago and the cinnamon off the pastries you'd baked especially for that night that he'd almost completely devoured within half an hour of sitting down.

He was warm in a way that felt like safety when he wrapped you up in him like this and it was all too easy to forget how much the movie had previously made your stomach turn slightly. Now barely even batting an eye when somebody screamed because you were too happy being lulled by the rise and fall of Eddie's chest beneath your cheek and the weight of his head rested atop of your own.

You watched the screen with an almost foggy type of interest. A little dazed by the hand that had previously been playing with your hair now slipping down, fingers dancing over the nape of your neck and down your spine to where it eventually stopped. Palm moulded flat to the dip in your back - the heat of it searing through your shirt.

His other hand was curved around your knee - thumb stroking soft circles on the inside that made a tremor sweep over your skin.

It took you far too long to realise when he eventually spoke, oblivious to his smile, the question he pressed to your hair at your shiver, until your trance was broken by the rumble of a soft laugh when a beat too long passed without any response.

Gentle fingers that had previously been resting on your knee were now hooking beneath your chin, tilting your gaze to meet his as he dipped his head to look at you in a way that made your mouth run dry.

"Still with me there sweetheart?" He asked. Voice low, hushed, a little rougher and less teasing than you think he had intended it to be.

And suddenly the room felt a little warmer than before, an electricity present that crackled in the limited space between your bodies.

You swallowed hard, stomach twisting, the sounds of horror in the background fading to a mere hum as you nodded. Your breath hitched when your nose brushed his but you made no move to pull back and if the boy heard it, he didn't say anything. "M'here." You whispered. "What- what did you say?"

In the near-dark you watched him bite back a strained smile, curls bouncing as he shook his head ever so slightly, not at you, but at the way he suddenly felt tongue tied. Frozen with his fingers still cupping your chin and his mind alarmingly blank because you were just so close and fuck, what was it that he'd said again?

"I uh," He stumbled, words a little awkward as he attempted to subtly clear his throat." I was just wondering how you can't watch a zombie movie without hiding behind me, which to be clear, I am not complaining about , but when we got attacked by demon bats you were totally fucking fearless."

You felt flushed at how awestruck he sounded, gaze lowering and your hand coming to clasp his wrist, touch gentle on the scars that only recently healed there. "I was hardly fearless Eds." You muttered.

But the boy was already tutting, an argument ready on his tongue before you could finish your dismissal.

"Babe, I watched you decapitate one of those things with an oar like it was nothing." He grinned, feeling a little more daring as he grazed his thumb just below your lip, eyes dark on you as your lashes fluttered and you swayed further into the touch. "It was the most metal thing I've ever seen, maybe the hottest too."

He added the last part like a whisper and maybe it was the way you felt too fuzzy, not quite connected to your brain - a little too lovesick and touch-drunk from the way Eddie was surrounding you. The words that set your blood alight.

Or maybe it was just that the credits were rolling on a movie the two of you had barely watched because you'd been too focused on each other, the room falling into the type of darkness that made you a little less afraid of giving away your feelings for the boy.

But you found yourself telling him, unflinchingly honest and without a second thought. "I was only like that because they tried to hurt you, I was beyond terrified until then."

"Is that so?" Eddie mused. He was beaming like you'd just said the best thing he'd ever heard, like having proof of you being murderous at the idea of him being hurt was enough to light the boy up from the inside and make his features glow with a new softness.

You only hummed in response, heart suddenly in your throat, pulse fluttering wildly and you briefly wondered if Eddie could feel it when his hand slipped along your jaw. Thumb teasing along the edge and fingers warm on your neck.

"So if we ever got attacked by an undead horde instead of bats and cat-eating lizards?"

You laughed, shrugging. "Then I guess I'm beheading some zombies."

It was meant to be a light comment but it made the air around you grow heavy, like you couldn't move away even if your life depended on it, when he pressed his forehead to yours with a little theatrical groan.

The way his eyes bore into yours under the dark fringe of his lashes making you breath catch, lungs tight when he teased. "Careful babe, with that kind of talk I might think you're trying to make me fall in love with you."

You don't know what possessed you, the words spilt passed your lips before you could catch them.

"What if I was?"

You felt more than heard the sharp inhale of his breath, the way he froze beneath you, slack-jawed, eyes wide and searching like he was nervous of the possibility you'd suddenly laugh and tell him you were only joking.

But then he seemed to find something in the shyness of your own gaze that made his turn bold, his hand on your back pressing you that little bit firmer against him as he shifted to turn into you fully.

The smile tugging at his lips was one you'd never seen before, the type he only ever gave when he was sure you weren't looking because there was no doubt in his mind that every ounce of love he had for you was written all over his face.

And Eddie swallowed hard before he spoke, his voice shot, affection flooding through the cracks, whilst he bumped his nose to yours. "Then I'd say you're about nine years too late."

Oh.

Wait-

You made a choked sound of surprise as you jerked back to look at him, stunned, fingers curling tight into his jumper and the warm skin of his wrist so you could steady yourself.

"Nine years?" You repeated, feeling dumbstruck whilst Eddie laughed.

But then he was cupping your cheeks with both hands, drawing you back to him with a grin that was all dimples and soft honey eyes and it felt like your heart would burst in your chest when the moment he was confident he had your full attention, he told you. "Sweetheart, I was a goner from the moment you showed up on my doorstep."

"Oh."

It felt like you'd been utterly floored.

It hit you that through all the years that you'd been in love with your best friend you had never truly considered a reality where he felt the same, and now you had no clue how to react.

However you were suddenly, painfully aware of all the times where you'd ached to touch him in a way that you'd then had to remind yourself wasn't allowed, all the time you could have spent learning what his lips felt like on yours, how he tasted. How long you could have called him yours if you both hadn't been so scared.

It felt like a crime to let it go on any longer.

"Eddie?" You whispered, nerves like a champagne fizz in your belly that then spread all the way to your fingers and toes as your eyes fluttered closed at his breath on your lips.

You could smell cinnamon and smoke, a hint of mint underneath, and god, you'd never craved something so bad as you did him.

"Yeah, sweetheart?"

He sounded no better than you - voice hoarse - a little wrecked. Thumbs digging into the hinges of your jaw like he was desperate to keep you anchored to him as he waited with baited breath for you to ask.

"Can I kiss you?"

His mouth was on yours before you could finish.

Soft and sweet at first despite the energy you could practically feel thrumming beneath his skin. You swallowed the groan that almost immediately slipped from his throat, both hands coming up to clutch at his wrists as he tugged you closer, tilting your jaw so he could deepen the kiss - lips sliding over yours again and again as you clung to him.

When you parted, it was only for a handful of seconds. A beat to catch your breath, to stare at each other like you couldn't believe this was finally happening. But then you caught sight of Eddie, eyes burning dark and hooded, lips swollen with your kisses, and it already felt like far too long.

Clearly Eddie felt the same.

The kiss became demanding when you crashed back together, greedy lips and greedy hands, his tongue tracing the seam of your lips before hungrily licking into your mouth. And then you were being pulled onto his lap, soft thighs falling open for him to fit beneath you and the prettiest moan you'd ever heard coming from the boy as your hips settled flush over his.

You gasped against him, a desperate noise that sent heat rushing to your cheeks, when his hand slipped under your shirt to grip your waist. Dizzy at the contrast of cold rings and warm fingers that were gently neading your skin, making you melt further into him than you thought possible.

It made him grip you that little bit harder, squeeze a little tighter to see if you'd make the same sweet sound for him again and Eddie felt like he'd go wild when you did. Like he could lose himself right there and then, with your fingers buried in his curls and your mouth hot on his, because you were all he could think about, see, hear and smell.

He was drowning in you and if you asked anything of him in this moment you can be damn sure that he'd do it in a fucking heartbeat if it meant you'd continue looking at him the way you were when your lips finally parted and you swayed back.

You were all soft smiles and slightly glassy eyed - a bit drunk on the way your best friend had kissed you like he would die if he didn't - and he couldn't resist stealing another, a second and then a third. Quick and a little clumsy because Eddie was smiling too.

There was so much warmth in your chest it felt like you could burst with it. All the emotions and feelings for the boy that you'd buried for so long now free to bloom wild and unhindered in the spaces between your ribs.

You couldn't help the bubble of laughter that poured past your lips, grinning so hard it hurt as he pressed his forehead to yours, thumbs stroking circles over your sides whilst he tried to pull you even closer.

'Strange." You mumbled, soft and a little drawn out like you were just waiting for him to ask.

He didn't let you wait long, nose brushing yours, heart-achingly indulgent.

"What is?"

"I think I've changed my mind about zombie movies, maybe they're not so bad after all."

[loveesiren]

Mile High Club - R.C.

Rafe Cameron x Reader

Summary: Y/n and Rafe get a much needed vacation but they can't even wait until they land to begin. (Please ready Baby Daddy parts one & two first!)

Warnings: Smut, nursing kink, language

Word Count: 1.4k+

You'd never been on a plane before. Taking off made you nervous but Rafe held your hand the entire time and soon enough your face was lit up in awe as you watched the world below you from the window.

Juliette was only four months old. Convincing you and Rafe to go on a trip, let alone take a break, was a challenge.

"Nope. Absolutely not. I'm not leaving my daughter." Rafe argued with his parents, bouncing Juliette on his knee.

"You two never do anything for yourselves. You guys deserve some time alone." Ward said, Rose nodding beside him.

"You guys are exhausted. Just take a few days, go to the Bahama house. We'll take care of Jules." Rose added.

You looked over at Rafe and your baby. Rafe's lips were pressed in a thin line at the thought of being away from his daughter. Jules smiled up at her dad, the sight melted your heart. You couldn't imagine being away from your daughter either but some time alone with Rafe did sound really nice.

"I don't know, babe...maybe we should. Just for a few days?" You suggest, running your fingernails over his bicep.

It took some convincing but Rafe finally agreed to three days in the Bahamas. The two of you were practically thrown out of Tannyhill so John B could drive you to the airport. Going back to give Juliette more and more kisses, making sure she had everything she needed, promising to Facetime multiple times a day.

Ward and Rose laughed. You were first time parents, a feeling they remember all too well but they assured you Juliette would be fine and happy with her grandparents and aunts.

Now you were flying high in first class, sipping champagne and snuggling up to your boyfriend as you watched the clouds go by. You both agreed to try to relax and not worry. Ward and Rose raised three kids and with Sarah, Wheezie, and John B all happy to help, you knew your daughter was in good hands.

You shifted uncomfortably as your breasts started to ache.

"You okay, baby?" Rafe asked, pressing his lips to your temple.

"Yeah, just gotta pump." You tell him, reaching for your bag to grab what you need before unbuckling your seatbelt to head to the bathroom.

Rafe has a shit eating grin on his face.

"What?" You ask.

"Can I help?" He asks, licking his bottom lip.

"Rafe, we're on a plane." You whisper.

"Mhmm," He hums, leaning into you to speak against your lips. "And I need to help my baby momma out." He presses a soft kiss to your lips and grabs your hand, pulling you to the back of the cabin to where the bathroom was located. He quickly opened the door, pushing you inside gently and quickly closing the door behind the two of you before anyone could notice.

He grabs your hips and lifts you onto the bathroom counter. The bathroom was small, Rafe wasn't able to stand up fully but that didn't matter as he was leaning down to press kisses to your jaw.

"Rafe-"

"Don't need this," He muttered, tossing your breast pump to the side. You were nervous, you didn't want to get caught doing this in an airplane bathroom but you couldn't deny the heat growing between your thighs.

He tugged at the hem of your tan top, lifting it off over your head and tossing it to the side before fiddling with the clasp of your bra, placing wet kisses over your skin.

"Fuck, Rafe..."

"Keep saying my name, baby." He demanded, letting your breasts free. "Shit..." He whispered, palming your swollen breasts.

"Rafe, I n-need you to-" You muttered, hooded eyes as you leaned your head back against the mirror.

Rafe didn't hesitate to latch onto your nipple, drinking from you harshly as he massaged your other breast.

You sighed in relief as he sucked. This nursing kink of his had become a common thing. Ever since he helped you out that first time he just couldn't get enough. You found yourself reminding him that you had a child to feed as well. But you had to admit, this was way more enjoyable than pumping.

You wrapped your fingers in his hair, digging your nails into his scalp as his fingers trailed down your body. He lifted your skirt and moved your panties to the side, slowly running a soft finger against your dripping core.

"Please," You whispered against his ear.

Rafe sucked harder as he plunged two fingers into you. You yelped at the sensation and he quickly brought his other hand up to cover your mouth. You arched your back beneath him, grinding against his fingers.

He finished draining you and quickly moved to your other breast, pumping his fingers into you harder and bringing his thumb to rub circles in your clit. You could feel him growing hard against your thigh and you knew as soon as he was done nursing, he'd be fucking you in this tiny airplane bathroom.

Your eyes rolled back as the knot in your stomach built up. Rafe hummed against your nipple as you came on his fingers. "Good girl..." He whispered against your skin and you were grateful for his hand over your mouth because you couldn't control your moans.

"Feel better, my love?" He asked as he finished drinking from you.

You smiled and nodded as you came down from your high. "Thank you," You whisper breathlessly.

"Wanna join the Mile High Club?" Rafe smirks, leaning in to kiss you.

You stared at him through hooded eyes and smiled, nodding your head eagerly.

"Use your words, mama," He says.

"Yes. Please, Rafe..."

Rafe smiles before grabbing your hips and pulling you from the counter, turning you around so you could watch him fuck you from behind.

He ripped your panties down and palmed your ass, spanking you roughly. You yelped once again.

"You gotta be quiet for me, mama," He says. "Don't wanna get caught, do you?" He asks, placing wet kisses down your back.

"I'll try," You whine.

Rafe thrusts into you and you try to stifle your moan, but he was hungry for you. This wasn't like the normal love making you were used to back home. This was new and exciting. It reminded you of when the two of you first got together. All the late nights of Rafe fucking you like his own personal whore. The way you ended up pregnant in the first place. The way you fucked before you fell in love with him.

Rafe pounded into you roughly, biting into your skin to control his own grunting. You hadn't realized you were being loud until he once again clasped a hand over your mouth.

You gripped the sink tightly, tears threatening to spill from your eyes. You hadn't been fucked like this in so long. You looked in the mirror, meeting Rafe's feral eyes as he tried not to cum yet. But you knew he was close, and so were you. With the way his skin slapped against yours, the wet sounds of your pussy filling the small room, you couldn't hold on much longer. Then, turbulence hit and it had you bouncing against him harder, sending you over the edge.

You began to vibrate as you clenched around his cock, sending Rafe into his own high. You felt him spill inside you and the feeling was euphoric. The last year and a half you'd spent with this man had you falling more inlove every day.

"Fuck, baby girl...I can never get enough of you." Rafe said, leaning against your shoulder as you both tried to catch your breath. "I'm gonna fuck you in every room of this house, and on the beach, and in the plane home, too."

You bit your lips at his promise. The thought of having Rafe to yourself for three whole days excited you. No crying, no tending to a teething baby at 2am, no siblings barging in on you. Just you and Rafe Cameron. This was a dream.

Rafe helped you clean up and get back into your clothes. You both hurriedly fixed your hair in the mirror before sneaking out of the bathroom and heading back to your seats. You noticed one of the flight attendants staring at you with a knowing look. You avoided her gaze but Rafe proudly slung his arm over your shoulder, smile wide on his face, completely satisfied with his life in this moment.

Tags: @torturedtypewritersdept @bigenergy777 @outerbankspov @purplerose291 @shayofandoms @mirellef2001

[kinzhae]

"Left Behind."

Gojo x Reader, angst with no comfort, reader and gojo drifts away as they enter jujutsu high, being left behind, reader sacrificing her life in order to keep gojo safe.

The first time Satoru left you behind, you brushed it off.

“Gojo Satoru is going to change the world,” you told yourself, smiling as you watched him walk off with Suguru Geto and Shoko Ieiri, his laughter echoing down the hall. His carefree attitude was infectious, and while you were happy for him, it hurt to know that you weren’t part of that laughter anymore.

It hadn’t always been this way. You and Satoru were inseparable once, bound by childhood promises and shared dreams. Back then, the world wasn’t complicated, and neither was he. The cocky smile he wore now was once reserved just for you.

But Jujutsu High changed everything.

---

You noticed the shift slowly. It started with missed conversations—whispers in the hallway you weren’t invited into, a glance over your shoulder to see him too far behind to call out to. Satoru didn’t mean to push you away. You knew that. But as his new friendships deepened, it became clear that your bond wasn’t the unbreakable connection you once thought it was.

Suguru was kind, brilliant, and calm—the perfect foil to Satoru’s chaotic energy. Shoko had a quiet wit that matched his sharp tongue. Together, the three of them felt untouchable, like the rest of the world could only stand by and watch as they carved their own path.

You were no longer part of that world. You tried to let go, you really did.

Even as the ache settled in your chest, you told yourself it was enough to simply watch him thrive. If Satoru was happy, wasn’t that all that mattered? You repeated those words like a mantra, trying to ignore the sting when he barely noticed you anymore.

It wasn’t his fault.

It wasn’t anyone’s fault.

But the cracks in your heart didn’t care for reason.

One day, everything changed. You were heading back to the dorms after a long day of training when you overheard the conversation.

Two voices in the shadows.

One familiar, one chillingly foreign.

“Gojo Satoru. The Six Eyes... He’s too dangerous to keep alive,” hissed the first voice—a higher-up whose name you didn’t dare utter. “The balance he disrupts, the power he wields... If he continues unchecked, no one will be able to control him.”

“And what do you propose?” growled the second voice, raspy and cold. It wasn’t human.

You froze, your blood running cold as you peeked around the corner.

“I want him gone. Do it cleanly. I’ll ensure you have what you need—resources, bodies, whatever it takes. Just make it happen.”

The curse smiled, sharp teeth glinting in the dim light. “Consider it done.”

Your world tilted.

They were going to kill him.

Satoru.

The boy who laughed too loudly, who stood by you even when the world felt too heavy, who once promised you that you’d always be by his side.

You had already been left behind. But you wouldn’t lose him. Not like this.

That night, you sought out the curse.

Its presence was suffocating, the weight of its aura pressing down on you as it materialized in front of you.

“And what do you want, little sorcerer?” it sneered.

“My life,” you said, your voice steady despite the terror clawing at your throat. “Take my life, my powers—anything. Just leave Satoru alone.”

The curse’s laughter echoed around you, harsh and mocking. “Anything, you say? Bold. And what makes you think I’ll honor such a deal?”

“Because if you don’t,” you said, lifting your chin, “I’ll make sure you regret it.”

A lie, of course. You were no match for it. But the curse seemed amused enough to agree.

“Very well. Your life for his. But once the deal is struck, there’s no turning back.”

“I know.”

As the curse’s claws reached out, you closed your eyes, picturing Satoru’s smile one last time.

You disappeared that night.

No one saw you leave. No one even knew why. You left behind nothing but questions and an empty dorm room, your name slipping further from their lips as the days turned into weeks, then months.

Satoru didn’t notice at first. You hadn’t been close lately, after all. But as time passed, he started to feel the absence.

It was subtle at first—a glance around the training field, expecting to see you standing at the edge, watching with a small smile. Then came the ache, the nagging sense that something was missing. He asked Shoko, then Suguru. Neither had seen you.

When he went to your room, it was stripped bare, as if you had never existed.

Satoru wasn’t the sentimental type, but the emptiness you left behind gnawed at him. He tried to brush it off—he was Gojo Satoru, after all. He didn’t dwell on things. He didn’t need to.

But late at night, when the silence grew too loud, he found himself thinking of you. Of your smile. Of the way you used to scold him when he pushed himself too hard. Of the way you had always been there, steady and unshakable, even when the rest of the world felt like it was slipping out of control.

He searched. Of course he searched.

But you were gone.

---

Satoru never stopped looking. Not really. Even years later, long after the grief had settled into something dull and hollow, he still found himself scanning crowds, hoping to catch a glimpse of you.

He told himself it was guilt—guilt for letting you slip away, for not noticing how far apart you had grown. But deep down, he knew it was more than that.

He had left you behind.

And he would never forgive himself for it.

[iamgonnagetyouback]

james potter x reader where the others scheme a date

Hogsmeade weekends were supposed to be chill. Stroll around, grab some Butterbeer, have an actual good time. But no, not when you had this group of friends.

The day had started innocently enough. You, James, Lily, Sirius, Remus, and Peter were wandering through the cobbled streets of the village, the chilly air nipping at your cheeks. James, as always, walked a little too close, his shoulder bumping into yours every so often. Sirius was laughing loudly at something ridiculous, while Peter was fumbling with a packet of chocolate frogs.

“Honestly,” you said, smirking at Remus, “You’re absolutely wrong, Lupin,”

“I’m not,” Remus raised an eyebrow, adjusting the scarf around his neck. “The book clearly states—”

“Oh, here we go. The book states,” you interrupted, waving your hand in the air mockingly. “I didn’t realize we were hanging out with Hogwarts: A History today.”

Sirius snorted. “Shots fired, Moony.”

“You can’t win against her,” James said with a grin, adjusting his glasses. “Just give in now, mate.”

“Never,” Remus replied, clutching his imaginary pearls. “Unlike some people, I don’t concede to chaos.”

“You concede to chocolate,” you countered, smirking.

The banter continued until Sirius abruptly stopped, spinning around with a dramatic flourish that made his cloak billow like he thought he was some kind of medieval prince. “Actually, as riveting as this has been” he began, his tone suspiciously casual, “I think I’m gonna pop into Honeydukes. Anyone want to join?”

“Sure!” Lily chirped, adjusting her hat.

“I could do with some sweets,” Remus said, eyeing Sirius skeptically but playing along.

“Count me in,” Peter added, already salivating at the thought of fudge.

You blinked, slightly caught off guard. “Wait, are we all going? James, you coming?”

James opened his mouth, likely to say yes, but Sirius slapped a hand against his chest, stopping him. “Oh, no. Nope. Negative. Not happening.”

You frowned, looking between Sirius and James. “Uh, why not?”

“Yeah, why not?” James echoed, shoving Sirius’ hand away.

Lily chimed in smoothly, her expression far too innocent. “Because the car only fits four people, love.”

James squinted at her. “Lils, we walked here. Together. On foot. As a group.”

“Exactly,” Remus cut in, a suspicious glint in his eye. “And now we’re heading back... by foot. But separately. To balance out the symmetry.”

“Symmetry?” you repeated, your eyebrows shooting up.

“Yes,” Peter said, nodding vigorously. “It’s... the rules of the village. Hogsmeade law. Very strict. Four people max per... Honeydukes visit. And symmetry.”

The four of them shuffled off, muttering a chorus of nonsensical excuses. “Very strict rules... totally official... you’ll understand when you’re older...”

You and James stood frozen in the middle of the street, watching them disappear into the distance.

“What just happened?” you asked after a moment, turning to James, bewildered.

He ran a hand through his messy hair, his expression caught between amusement and disbelief. “I think we’ve been abandoned.”

You squinted toward Honeydukes, where your friends were very obviously not adhering to any “symmetry laws” and instead stuffing their faces with sweets through the window.

“Well,” James said, his voice suddenly hopeful, “I guess it’s just us then.” He grinned at you, his cheeks pink from the cold. “Wanna make it a date?”

Your heart flipped at the word date, but you played it cool, tilting your head dramatically. “Hmm. I don’t know, Potter. What’s in it for me?”

He leaned in just slightly, his grin turning cheeky. “A lifetime of my charming company, of course.”

You laughed, nudging him with your shoulder. “Oh, well, in that case... lead the way.”

As the two of you wandered off toward The Three Broomsticks, your laughter echoing through the chilly air, you couldn’t help but glance back toward Honeydukes. Sirius caught your eye through the window, winking as he shoved a licorice wand into his mouth.

“Idiots,” you muttered fondly, shaking your head.

James didn’t seem to mind one bit.

[heeseungiez]

nothing i don’t have | pjs

part 2: support our son

pairings! park jongseong x reader, ft. huening kai x reader

summary! it was supposed to be simple, you and jay would fuck whenever either of you felt horny — no feelings. but it was hard not to catch feelings where park jongseong was involved. so you took the easy way out: you ended it.

genre! texts, written fic, college au, love triangle (corner)

word count! 1k

content warnings! swearing

author's note! i'm still trying to figure out what app/site to make the texts on so if anyone has a good suggestion please help please i'm struggling

previous | masterlist | next

You used to come over to Jay’s place nearly every other day. But it had been two weeks, and you were nowhere to be seen. It was to the point that Heeseung, Jake and Sunghoon began asking if you would ever come over again, to which Jay was forced to answer that you were probably hanging out with Huening Kai. He didn’t know your actual whereabouts most of the time, but he guessed. Which made him internally cringe every time.

What he disliked the most, however, was his incessant urge to text you whenever the smallest inconvenient thing happened in his day. He was sure you would very likely reply, but he was scared of what it would be like now that the dynamic of your relationship changed. It should probably be the same, but what if your voice over text changed because now you were seeing someone else?

Jay wasn’t fond of the idea in the slightest. Did you even really like Huening Kai? Who the fuck was he to take you away from Jay? (Yet you weren’t his to begin with.) He missed you, but he could hardly voice it out to himself, let alone you.

The day he nearly killed a man on the spot was when he saw you and Huening Kai walking side by side on campus. It wasn’t just that, actually, because the two of you were holding hands, and you were laughing about something Kai had said. It was even worse because he was clearly walking you to class — a class that you shared with Jay. So you were bound to cross paths, and no matter how hard Jay tried to slow his pace down, you still managed to notice him.

“Oh, hey, Jay!” you called him over with a smile on your face. It was brighter than he remembered, and he couldn’t figure out if it was just his brain playing tricks, or whether you were genuinely happier than he had ever seen you before. “You know Kai, right?” you asked innocently, but it only brought back Jay’s anger from the Sanctuary Café.

Heeseung just wanted to take Jay out to an open mic. Neither of them knew that it would also be the day of your first date with Huening Kai. Jay hated every second of being there, but to you, it must’ve been an unforgettable night.

“And Kai, this is Jay,” you said with a smile, pointing at him.

“I’ve heard a lot about you.” Kai stretched out his hand forward, but the gaze with which he beheld Jay told him that he knew everything about you and Jay. That you gave him every single gory detail of what had been going on before the two of you began dating, and that made Jay even more furious. Because he refused to acknowledge any other emotion he felt.

He ignored the tightness in his chest as he shook Kai’s hand with a nod. “I’ve heard nothing about you,” Jay replied, not lying, because he genuinely knew nothing about Kai besides the few pieces of gossip and what Heeseung divulged some time ago. Kai wasn’t surprised by that information at all. You hadn’t told Jay anything about him either.

“We have to get to class, but I’ll see you later, yeah?” You looked at Kai with such admiration in your eyes that Jay wanted to step between the both of you and push Kai out of the way. But he couldn’t do it. All he could do was stand and watch and constantly clench and unclench his fists.

“Yeah, of course,” Kai replied, bending down to kiss your temple, but you grabbed the collar of his band tee and brought his mouth down to your lips. Kai let out an involuntary giggle as it happened, and Jay had to abruptly turn away, incapable of not rolling his eyes.

“Bye,” you mumbled quietly, a soft smile decorating your lips.

“Band practice starts at five.”

“I know, Kai,” you laughed and shook your head. “I’ll be there. We need to support our son.”

Jay furrowed his brows, but with Kai’s knowing grin and playful roll of his eyes, neither of you was going to elaborate on what you actually mean.

Your son?

And yet that was the first thing Jay asked about once Kai was finally leaving you alone, his back turned to the two of you. “Your son? The fuck happened in the last two weeks?”

You chuckled at Jay’s confusion, an amused look brightening up your features. “Yujin’s still in high school,” you said, shaking your head. “The keyboardist. If you remember him. He’s actually just started his second year.”

“So you call him your son?”

“Yeah, he’s the whole band’s son. And mine, now.” You grinned proudly, just thinking about Yujin. “Anyways, I’m sorry I haven’t been in contact much lately, but I’m still getting used to this whole new dynamic of me having a boyfriend and all that.”

“Oh, you’re official already?”

“I’d hope so,” you said, shrugging. “What about you? Any new conquests lately? Surely, you already found someone else? Maybe you’ve already had someone on your roster, you know, that kinda stuff.” 

If Jay wasn’t too busy cringing at your words, he’d probably notice how tense your tone was, and how much you hated saying them, but he didn’t. All he heard was that you really didn’t care about him any more than a casual fuck and perhaps a somewhat close friend. 

“Nah, not really,” Jay replied anyway. “I’m actually kinda… I don’t know. Haven’t felt like doing much lately.”

“Right. So just you and Jane?” you asked teasingly.

“What?” And maybe it should’ve hit Jay instantly that you were speaking of his guitar, but instead he thought that you were suggesting he really was with somebody else already, and he did not like that. “Oh.” He realised moments later.

“Yeah. I guess you could say that.” He nodded. Jay had to count all his small victories of today among the losses, too, however, because you were actively speaking to him finally. And not just that — you sat down next to him in class.

tags: (send an ask or comment to be added!) @moonpri @addictedtohobi

[bandsofmarv]

Mine to keep

After a tense mission, Bucky’s jealousy boils over.

TW- very smutty, jealousy and possessiveness

The mission had gone sideways, but that wasn’t what had Bucky Barnes fuming. It was the way you’d laughed, soft and sweet, at Sam’s jokes over comms. The way Sam had gotten a little too close when patching up a scrape on your arm.

He knew he was being ridiculous. He knew better than to let the spiraling thoughts take hold. But when he saw you smile at Sam like that—like he was the center of your world—something in him cracked wide open.

You didn’t notice his storm-cloud mood until you all made it back to the safehouse. While Sam prepped dinner in the kitchen, you cornered Bucky in the small, dimly lit living room.

“Okay, what’s your problem?” you demanded, crossing your arms. “You’ve been glaring daggers at me and Sam all day. Did I do something wrong?”

He stared at you, blue eyes dark and wild. “Wrong?” he repeated, voice low and dangerous. “No, you didn’t do anything wrong. Except maybe drive me insane.”

Your brow furrowed. “What are you talking about?”

He took a step closer, the air between you crackling with tension. “Do you have any idea what it does to me, watching you laugh with him? Watching him touch you?” His jaw clenched, his metal hand flexing at his side. “It makes me want to tear the whole damn world apart.”

You blinked, stunned into silence. “Bucky, Sam’s just—”

“I don’t care,” he interrupted, voice rough with emotion. “I don’t care if it’s Sam or anyone else. You’re mine.”

The possessiveness in his tone should have made you angry. Instead, it sent a shiver down your spine.

“Yours?” you repeated, your voice barely a whisper.

His hand shot out, cradling your jaw with surprising gentleness given the storm raging in his eyes. “Yeah,” he growled. “Mine. Say it.”

Your breath hitched as his thumb brushed over your bottom lip. “I’m yours,” you murmured, the admission setting a fire in his gaze.

Something in him snapped. His lips crashed against yours, devouring you with a hunger that left you gasping. His hands were everywhere—gripping your waist, sliding under your shirt, pulling you flush against him.

“Say it again,” he demanded against your lips, his voice rough and ragged.

“I’m yours,” you moaned, the words turning into a gasp as his mouth moved to your neck, his teeth scraping against your pulse point.

Before you knew it, he had you pinned against the wall, his metal arm braced beside your head while his flesh hand slid beneath your shirt, palming the soft skin of your waist. He tore the fabric over your head in one swift motion, his eyes darkening as they roamed over your bare skin.

“You’re perfect,” he rasped, his voice thick with reverence and need.

He leaned in, his lips brushing over the swell of your breast before wrapping around your nipple, sucking gently. The sensation sent a jolt of pleasure straight through you, and your fingers tangled in his hair, holding him closer.

“Bucky,” you whimpered, your hips pressing against his.

The sound of his name on your lips seemed to unravel him. With a low growl, he lifted you effortlessly, your legs wrapping around his waist as he carried you to the couch. His hands roamed your body as he laid you down, his lips trailing fire along your skin.

Clothes disappeared in a blur—his shirt ripped over his head, his pants kicked to the floor, leaving you both bare and exposed. His body was solid, his metal arm cool against your heated skin as he hovered over you, his gaze searching yours.

“Are you sure?” he asked, his voice unsteady.

You reached up, cupping his face as you pulled him down for a kiss. “I’ve never been more sure of anything.”

That was all he needed. He slid a hand between your thighs, his fingers finding you warm and ready for him. His touch was gentle at first, teasing, until you arched into him, desperate for more.

“Bucky, please,” you begged, your voice trembling with need.

He groaned, his control snapping as he positioned himself at your entrance. He pushed into you slowly, inch by inch, stretching you in a way that left you breathless.

“God, you feel so good,” he muttered, his forehead resting against yours as he filled you completely.

He stayed still for a moment, letting you adjust, before pulling back and thrusting into you again, harder this time. Your nails dug into his shoulders as he set a relentless pace, each movement driving you closer to the edge.

“You’re mine,” he growled, his metal hand gripping your hip to keep you steady as he pounded into you. “Say it.”

“I’m yours,” you cried, the words breaking as pleasure built to a fever pitch.

“That’s right,” he rasped, his lips capturing yours in a bruising kiss. “Only mine.”

His hand slipped between your bodies, his fingers finding that sensitive bundle of nerves that sent you spiraling. The pleasure crashed over you in waves, your body tightening around him as you came undone, his name falling from your lips like a prayer.

The sensation of you trembling beneath him pushed him over the edge. With a low, guttural moan, he buried himself deep inside you, his body shaking as he followed you into bliss.

For a long moment, the only sound was your mingled breaths as he collapsed beside you, pulling you into his arms. His hand brushed over your hair, his lips pressing soft, lingering kisses to your temple.

“You’re mine,” he murmured one last time, his voice a mix of possessiveness and tenderness.

And in that moment, you knew you always would be.

[tricksters-captain]

Declan O'Hara imagine - I'm not doing this.

A/N: I thought about this one shot weeks ago... finally writing it. Probably been done already by someone else but who isn't obsessed with rivals atm. I also haven't written in years.

Summary: Declan is fighting against himself and everything he believes in when you come into the picture.

Warnings: Age Gap, fem!reader, NSFW content 18+, strong language, bit of a slow burn.

"Taggie, honestly, I don't know why you'd ever willingly add Brussel sprouts to anything." You chuckled as you both crept through the door to the kitchen.

"They're good for you!" Taggie tried to defend her culinary choices for her Sunday lunch.

"If they're good for you then I always want to be bad."

"Who's being bad?" A thick Irish accent filled the room as Taggie's dad sauntered in, a mug of coffee in one hand with his other burrowed deeply into his trouser pocket.

"Dad, this is (Y/N). (Y/N) was just objecting to my sprouts."

"Oh yeah, I agree, terrible things. Even the dog won't eat 'em" Declan brought his mug to his lips, smirking through the thick moustache that hid his upper lip.

You felt your insides alight at his dark, playful expression as he teased Taggie.

That was the first time you knew you were a bad friend. A bad friend who wanted your new friend's father to lift you onto the kitchen table and bury his head between your thighs.

The thought made your cheeks burn red as you laughed at Declan's remark and Taggie's complaints against him.

The man left the kitchen when his eyes flitted back to you, sending you a nod and a 'lovely to meet you, (Y/N). '

You couldn't help but replay the way he said your name in your head over and over and over again until you were desperate for his voice to sing it again.

The next time you saw Declan O'Hara was at the O'Hara New Years Eve party.

"You better not spend the whole time in here. I'd actually like you to put a dress on and come out to dance at some point tonight." You pleaded with Taggie as she clasped your necklace for you.

"I'll try but I can't make any promises. Anyway, you're out there to be my eyes and ears. You need to tell me if anyone complains about the food, okay?"

"Yes, Taggie. But no one will because you are amazing and your food is amazing and you are so right for not letting me help you cook or serve after I burnt the soup last time." You faced her as she continued to prep the ingredients she would need for the feast she had planned.

"You are a great friend but you are a terrible cook." Taggie agreed. You felt a lump in your throat at the words. Were you a great friend for literally fantasising over her father after almost every time you had an interaction with him? "Now please go next door and make sure that all the tables have the right cutlery for me?"

"Anything for you, Agatha!" You headed to do as you were told. Looking down to smooth out your dress when you felt yourself collide with something solid.

"I'm so sorry!" You looked up to see Declan turning, laughing softly at your clumsiness.

"It's okay, love." Declan's own eyes fell down your body, his lips parting slightly as he took in the sight of you all dressed up. He knew you were an attractive girl but you were Taggie's age and one of her only friends in the surrounding neighbours beside Lizzie. "You look beautiful."

The sincerity in his voice caused a chill to roll up your spine.

"Thanks. You look very handsome too, Mr. O'Hara." You didn't know why you felt so shy around him. You were so used to owning your space and holding your confidence when you fancied someone.

"That's very kind, (Y/N). And it's Declan. I don't want to tell you again." Declan send you a wink as he started to pass you. "Hey, and no snogging my son at midnight. You're way too good for him."

Your heart squeezed at the taunt. Patrick was a gorgeous boy and he had tried to flirt with you when he met you but you were far too interested in Declan for Patrick to make any dent in your crush.

"He's not my type anyway." You managed to find your tongue to quip back an answer.

"Good girl."

Good Girl.

You had to bite the inside of your cheek to stop yourself replying something entirely inappropriate in response.

As the night went on, you felt your heart drop more and more. Declan was obsessed with his wife. His wife was obsessed with anyone else.

You were desperate to try and make more conversation with the man but almost everyone was grabbing his attention to discuss some work matter or other.

As the countdown began, you gut wrenchingly watched as Maud and Declan kiss. You put on a smile and exchanged celebrations with those around you. Giving Lizzie a kiss on the cheek as her husband blanked her as he usually did.

"Happy New Year, chicken." Lizzie pressed on a faux smile as you did.

"Happy New Year, Lizzie."

"A little advice for your new years resolution if I may?" Lizzie whispered as she drew you closer.

"You may want to get better at hiding your admiration for Taggie's father. I know nothing hurts more than something you can't have." Lizzie's words took you back, you felt your cheeks burning red and your smile drop.

"Oh, Lizzie, I'm mortified! Please don't tell Taggie." You begged.

"Not a peep." Lizzie motioned locking her lips with a key before grabbing your hands to singing sway along with the room.

The night went on and Lizzie tried to encourage you to join in festivities. You drank more and more, being forced away whenever you tried to help Taggie wash up, and you soon found yourself needing some quiet time.

You let yourself into Declan's office, leaning against the desk, fingers gripping the underside to give you some stability when the room started to ever so slightly spin.

You closed your eyes. Inhaling a shaky breath when you heard the door creek open.

"I thought someone unwanted had decided to sneak through my things." Declan's melodic accent forced your eyes open.

"I'm wanted, am I?" You smirked slightly, through the sickness as your eyelids closed again.

Declan didn't respond. Instead he just studied you from across the room. His hands in his pockets, his stance leaning back just ever so slightly.

"You struggling there?" Declan was amused at your state.

You tried to push yourself off the desk but instead felt yourself stumble forward.

Declan's amusement quickly turned into concern as he stepped forward to catch you.

"Steady on." Declan had managed to stop you from hitting the floor, your face pressed against his chest, his strong arms engulfing you as he pulled you up towards him.

"I'm so sorry..." You mumbled as you leant away to look up at him.

His features were so strong up close. You could smell the whisky on his breath as your eyes lingered on his lips.

"Maybe we should get you some water and put you to bed."

Declan's words drew your eyes to his own. His chest seemed to go tight as he starred down into your glassy (Y/E/C) eyes.

"You can take me to bed any time you want, Mr O'Hara." Your words slurred together with your weak attempt of drunkenly flirting.

"It's Declan."

"Okay, Declan..."

That was the first time Declan had heard you say his name. Something inside him knew he wanted to hear you say it again but he fought against the thought, pulling away from you as you gained your stance.

"Let's hope you don't remember this in the morning, ay?" Declan tried to make light, convincing himself the electric feeling he had was nothing.

"Why? I finally got my chance in your arms. My dream come true."

"Yeah, you really won't want to remember this in the morning. Come on..." Declan opened the door, waiting for you to follow suite. The noise of the party echoed around you; you had almost forgot it was still going on outside.

"Have you ever thought about me?" You had no idea where this liquid confidence had stirred from.

There was a pause before he answered.

"No." He was lying. He knew he was lying. He watched the disappoint subtly encase your eyes as you pursed your lips into a thin smile.

"If I was dreaming, you would've said yes. Goodnight, Mr O'Hara."

"Goodnight, (Y/n)."

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

As the weeks went on, rivals became friends. Friends became rivals. You grew closer to the O'Hara family and the moment from NYE had simply been forgotten. Or so you thought...

The dread that had filled your gut that New Years Day after you remembered the incident brewed inside of you for weeks. You had successfully avoided Declan, only seeing him in group scenarios and meetings for Venturer.

"(Y/N), I left some of my flyers on the table in the living room if you want to use them." Taggie climbed into her car, shouting over at you as she rushed off. You both had been going door to door for Venturer in different areas to cover more ground but you had run out of flyers to hand out.

"Thanks, Tag!" You rushed inside, running through the house that still held a cool air inside despite the early summer warmth outside.

"Careful!" You heard a voice proclaim as your bodies hit.

Within the blink of an eye, you had hit the floor with a body on top of you.

"Are you alright?" Declan groaned as you winced underneath his weight. The hard floor sent a wave of pain through your back but you had managed to not hit your head.

"Ow." You grumbled, squeezing your eyes shut.

"Did you hit your head?" Declan propped himself up on his arms, examining your face with a furrowed brow of worry.

"No." Was all you managed to say.

"I thought we had left bumping into each other for last year." Declan recalled on when you knocked into him last New Years Eve before the party had started.

"Clearly I'm not very good at keeping to New Year's resolutions."

Declan chuckled, pushing himself up before offering his hand.

You felt the warmth of his body leave you and the coldness of the floor pierce your bones.

You took his hand; hauling yourself to your feet.

"You sure you're okay?" Declan insisted. His hand reached out to take grip of your waist, his thumb and finger burning against your skin that had been revealed by the edge of your venturer top riding up. His other finger waved past your eyes, checking for concussion.

"I'm fine. No more running in the house with blind corners." You took a step back from the man, straightening your shirt to try and control the lingering feeling of the mans hand on you.

"Now... are we okay?" Declan rephrased,

"What do you mean?"

"(Y/N), don't play stupid. You've avoided me for almost half a year now. You won't even walk around the house without Caitlin or Taggie next to you."

You didn't think that Declan would've noticed with how busy he was with work and his life. Why would he have cared where you were or what you were doing in the house?

"I'm still living down my behaviour at New Years." You reluctantly admitted.

"What, that? Everyone says stuff they shouldn't when they've had a few too many. Doesn't mean you have to never look me in the eye again."

"What I said was completely inappropriate."

"Yes, it was. You're the same age as my daughter and I'm a married man but I'll have to admit I'm a little flattered." Declan tried his best to ease your anxiety. "I don't exactly see myself a teenage heart throb."

"I'm not a teenager." You bit back, the harshness your voice surprising you both.

"There's not much difference. You're practically a child and should be going for someone your own age." Declan quit the joking tone he had been using, taken back by your defence.

"Don't call me a child. I'm not the same age as Caitlin. I am older than Taggie and I've been with men before so I'm not playing silly little girl games over here. This isn't some school girl crush on a handsome teacher. You're right my feelings for you are inappropriate because you're a married man and I'm friends with your daughter but not because of my age. I know who I am and what I feel." A fire lit up your chest as you finally had broken out of the timidness you hated.

"You have no idea what you're talking about." Declan took a step closer to you, his stare burning into you as he lowered his voice.

"You're the one who reads people. Tell me what you see in me." You matched him, standing so close to him you could feel his breath on your face as you gritted your teeth.

The air was thick. The silence of the house engulfing you both, your breath audible and quick. You thought you could almost hear your heart thudding against your chest.

Declan was the one to break away. Storming to his office with a hard slam of the door.

How did your conversation turn so heated?

That night Declan tossed and turned, his head filled with moments of you. He rolled over and gently woke up his wife with soft strokes on her shoulder blades.

"What?" Maud hummed, rolling her head over her shoulder to Declan.

"I'm awake." Declan pressed himself against his wife.

"I can feel that." Maud looked at him through a sleepy gaze.

"Let me touch you." His fingers glided over her skin until he reached the space between her legs. Maud moaned quietly as Declan began to part her folds with his finger.

"Declan..." Maud sighed as she pressed her backside into him, feeling his member hard against her.

Declan wasted no time in entering her. He closed his eyes as his dick pressed inside his wife. And all he could see through the darkness was your eyes looking up at his. The first time he had seen you in the kitchen. The bump in the hall, the incident in his study, every time he had caught you intensely listening to one of his speeches to the group, the crash against the floor. You underneath him. The tiny bit of skin his hand had managed to caress from the bottom of your shirt.

He had never thought of you before. Not with Maud, not with his own hand and imagination and he couldn't make sense of why that night he finished almost as fast as his inexperienced teenage self had once before.

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

It had been Declan's turn to avoid you from that day. He couldn't be too close to you without feeling his throat go dry, a sickening guilt and twisting conflict rising with it.

It was the evening you'd find out whether Venturer was a real contender against Corrinium.

The O'Hara house was filled with people eagerly waiting except one who had decided to leave the house for good.

The house erupted in cheers and celebrations as the phone call confirmed it for you all.

You watched through the window as Maud drove off, leaving Declan and Taggie behind.

"We did it!" Taggie squeezed you tightly before embracing her father and to your surprise, Declan had also pulled you into a tight hug. You had hoped no one picked up on the slight awkwardness that left the embrace when Declan moved onto join the others. You couldn't help but feel it.

The party went on and you tried to keep an eye on Declan without making it too obvious (like Rupert and Taggie had failed to).

When Rupert left Declan's side for another whiskey, (Taggie swiftly disappearing just after), Declan slipped away to his study. You followed.

"I'm sorry about Maud." You made your presence known as you watched him place his glass down on the desk, his back to you when he replied.

"Don't."

"Fine." You clenched your jaw, unsure of what to say next at the warning in his tone.

"What do you want from me?" Declan's voice had a hint of desperation. He turned to face you. You had seen this look before.

"I don't––"

"––No 'cause you followed me in here. You are everywhere I look. I can't even get a wink of sleep most nights without dreaming of two things. You or beating Tony fucking Baddingham. And I can't think of you because you're young enough to be my daughter and I'm a fucking hypocrite for telling Rupert to stay away from Taggie when I look at you in that dress and wonder what you would look like with it on this floor right now. I'm not doing it. I can't do this."

Declan's outburst kept your feet frozen in place. Had he really just admitted to wanting you as badly as you wanted him.

You felt your hand roll the zipper of your dress down your side, your body moved without force as you slipped the straps over your shoulders and let it fall to the floor.

"Fuck..." Declan barely breathed out the word. His stare devouring every inch of your skin.

"I'm not doing this." Declan uttered again barely even audible as if only to himself before striding towards you. His fingers found your hips as he thrust you against the door.

His lips were on yours before your back found the solid wood behind you.

You reached up and wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling yourself up towards him, trying to bring your body as close to his own as possible. You needed every gap between you gone. You wanted to feel the heat of him even on this sticky summer evening.

"What am I doing?" Declan broke away and dropped to his knees, placing a firm hand on the middle of your stomach to hold you flush against the door.

There was a deep hunger in his eyes as he lifted one of your thighs up onto his shoulder, never breaking his gaze from your face to almost check if what he was doing was allowed.

You threw your head up, trying to find the air he had stolen from you, one hand finding a grip within his dark curls as your welcome reply.

"Please." You whispered.

Declan moved your panties to the side, a finger running over your folds, sending fire against your skin before he closed his mouth around you.

You let your eyes roll back as his tongue darted across your clit. Electricity filled your body with every moment of contact.

You felt his fingers circle lightly around your entrance. Your hand jumped from his thick curls to tightly grip the back of his own that pushed against your stomach. His grip on you felt as if it were all that was holding you up.

"You want me this badly?" Declan asked with a mixture of teasing and shock. The wetness of your heat coated the tip of his fingers and glistened on the dark hairs of his moustache.

"I've imagined this so many times." You admit honestly.

"I best live up to your expectations then." Declan inserted a finger inside of you, causing a sharp gasp to escape your lips, which made Declan's cock twitch inside his boxer shorts. "Shhhh"

You placed your free hand over your mouth to which Declan smiled a toothy grin at you.

"Good girl" he purred.

Declan rose to his feet as he placed another finger inside of you, thrusting them in and out of you in a painfully slow motion that only made you ache for more.

Declan turned the lock on his door with his other hand before pulling himself away from you completely.

You pouted at the lack of contact to which he tutted.

"So impatient." He uttered as he undid his belt, pulling it from its loops and then kicking his trousers down.

Your eyes fell on the large member pressed against his underwear. The tip seeping precum through the material in a dark stain.

"Go to my desk." Declan ordered.

You almost ran over, Declan caught you by the waist and lifted you up onto it. Spreading your legs with his knee.

"Are you sure you want this?" Declan stripped himself of his shirt, revealing his chest covered with dark thick hair that you reached out to touch. This didn't feel real.

"More than anything." The words were so quiet but Declan seemed to hear them as he freed himself from his underwear.

You reached behind and unclasped your bra.

"Jesus..." He took a handful of your breast, squeezing you firmly as he stroked his member.

"Declan, please." You couldn't wait any longer. The ache pained you.

Declan didn't need to be told twice.

He tore your underwear down your legs and pressed his tip slowly into you.

You bit down on your lip hard to stop yourself from making any noise.

"Holy fuck..." Declan failed at being quiet. You were so tight against him he felt he could've finished inside of you within minutes.

You reached forward and hooked a grip behind his neck, encouraging him deeper inside of you.

"Fuck me please." you pleaded, trying to move your own hips to create some friction.

Declan took the hint and began thrusting into you quickly. His fingers almost bruising your skin as he held you steady on the desk.

The rattle of the belongings on the desk seemed to echo around the room alongside the slapping of skin.

Declan lifted you up, still inside of you and gently placed you down on the floor.

He hovered above you, just like he had once before, watching your face twist in pleasure as he fucked you.

You squeezed his shoulders, your nails leaving an impression whilst he brought you closer to your climax. You pressed your hips up into his creating hot friction against your clitoris, making you throb inside.

"Declan..." You tried to let him know; still trying to whisper to stay quiet.

"Cum for me, princess." Declan smirked, his stare never faltering as he rode you through to your end. He could feel you tighten around him only encouraging him to fuck you harder and deeper.

You bit down on your hand as your climax convulsed through you. Your body shaking in between Declan and the floor.

Declan moved you both effortlessly, lying on his back with you sat on top of him.

You leant ever so slightly forward, steadying yourself with your hand stretched out against his chest.

You smiled wickedly at him as you rolled your hips.

You felt exhausted by your own finish but knew you wanted to see the older man in the same state.

"That's a good girl." Declan held onto your hips, helping you pick up your pace.

His lips parted as he watched you ride him, sweat dripping down your skin mixing with his own as his dick twitched inside of you.

"Fuck (Y/n)." Declan cursed.

You shifted your hand to his neck, Declan almost laughed, flipping you again so that he was behind you. Both of you on your knees as he held you against his chest, his hand wrapped firmly around your neck with his opposite arm securely around your middle.

The sensation was almost unbearable as his thick member pumped in and out of you at such speed.

"You think you want to be a bad girl?" Declan hissed in your ear.

You could only shake your head.

"Bad girls get punished." Declan bit hard down on your shoulder and you fought to not cry out in a mixture of pleasure and pain.

"You're mine now." Declan's own proclamation brought himself to his own climax. He pulled out, spilling his seed over his own thighs to avoid finishing inside of you much to your own disappointment.

"I know you wanted that inside of you like the dirty girl you are." Declan teased you as he gave your throat one final soft squeeze.

You fell against him, both trying to catch your breath.

"Declan?" A voice and a knock came at the door.

"Shit..." The realisation of what had just happened and where it just happened hit Declan like a cricket bat to the face.

"I'll be out in a mo." Declan scrambled for his underwear and you did the same.

"Hurry up! I know that's where you're hiding the good stuff!" Bas' voice was more evident now and whilst he was definitely talking about the whiskey. The both of you couldn't help but laugh.

[maybanksmusings]

THE WALLS ; JJ MAYBANK

SYNOPSIS ; when an unknown face appears in the outer banks searching for a father she's never met, she's unaware of how her life is about to be completely turned upside down.

WARNINGS ; jjmaybank x routledge!reader, strong language, depictions of violence, afab!reader, sexual content, mentions of abuse, drug and alcohol consumption, strangers to lovers, fast burn to slow burn, canon adjacent, not proofread.

AUTHORS NOTE ; no yapping today

part one. part two.

you never knew how relaxing it was to lay in the sun, the steady movements of the boat gently rocking you side to side. it was almost as if you hadn't set fire to everything you and john b grew up believing.

john b knew his mom took off when he was a kid, what he didn't know was that she was pregnant when she left. you thought that your dad died and your mom lived in your hometown her entire life.

both of you agreed that, for now at least, this branch of the family tree would be kept from the others until you've had enough time to fully wrap your heads around everything without the added input from everyone else.

"ladies and losers." john b claps, grabbing the attention of everyone on board "with the newest addition to our dysfunctional family," he gestures in your direction earning applause from the group, with the addition of a cheer from jj "the no pouge-on-pouge macking rule is still in full effect, just in case anyone has forgotten."

you don't miss the glare sent in jj's direction, the blond in question, however, was too busy making a face at you to even notice that he was the target of that rule.

it takes everything in you not to laugh, you understand why the rule may have been implemented in the past. young kids making up rules to protect their friendship. but you surely were all old enough and mature enough to handle real adult relationships.

"does our newest recruit partake?" pope asked throwing a can of beer to jj and kiara before looking at you once more.

"are you forgetting she was flat drunk when she went all cat woman on topper?" kiara joked, cracking open her can and raising it to you "to passing your initiation."

"and to beating the shit out of a kook!"

"here here!"

you sit up to bow as the others raise their cans to you, unable to stop the soft laugh that escapes as you sit up again "thank you, thank you. i'd like to thank my agent, my manager,"

john b jokingly shoves your shoulder to shut you up "a little humility wouldn't kill you, you know."

"humility is for losers" you taunt, making your way over to the cooler to see for yourself what was inside "besides, you owe me so humility is redundant."

before you can continue excusing your incoming speech, you're jolted forward by a sudden bump in the boat. you lose your footing, grabbing the closest thing to you and dragging it into the water with you.

person. the closest person to you and dragging them into the water with you.

you were a pretty decent swimmer, decent enough to not drown at least, but when you hit the water, any swimming ability was replaced with dread. truth be told you shouldn't be surprised, not even twenty four hours ago someone did in fact try to drown you so it was only natural you began to panic.

your brain was begging your body to do something, to override your fear with instinct, but no matter what you did all you could do was kick and flail.

you cling to the familiar frame dragging you to the surface, wrapping your arms and legs around him like a koala clung to a tree. you hid your face in the crook of jj's neck to shield your tears from the group, even if there was a chance you could explain it away as water in your eyes.

"you're okay, baby" jj coos, his hand cradling the back of your head "you're safe, i got you."

"the fuck was that!?" kiara shouts, helping the boys drag you and jj back onto the boat.

pope peers out over the edge, trying to catch a glimpse of anything that could be in the water "guys, i think we hit a boat?" he calls out over his shoulder.

almost as if in sync, jj and john b exchanged a knowing look. they knew what it meant, from what you learned so far they've been attached at the hip for years so it wasn't a shock that they had some weird telepathy.

without a word from either of them, they dive off the side of the boat and into the water, undoubtedly to scout out whatever pope had spotted. neither kiara or pope showed much of a reaction, probably because they were used to their antics.

you, on the other hand, sat by the edge of the boat and peered into the murky water below. you were holding your breath, waiting for any sort of sign of life from either of the boys.

time passes agonisingly slowly, but soon enough you spot the unmistakable head of brown hair rising to the surface.

"jackpot, baby!" jj hollers, throwing his arms into the air in celebration "one poor bastard made aggie mad, that's a seriously primo boat."

kiara shrugs "what do those kooks expect, they're harming the environment with their flashy boats, it's karma."

"easy there, greenpeace." john b huffs, pulling himself up and into the boat "mother natures most recent victim could have all sorts of profitable shit inside."

"exibit a," jj announces proudly, producing a silver canister from his pocket "would our newest pledge like to do the honours?"

"i would love to incriminate myself by stealing private property!" you exclaim, sarcasm dripping off of every syllable. nonetheless, you take it from him and shake its contents onto the floor of the boat.

the metallic clang makes everyone wince, the group sighing in disappointment of seeing what was inside.

"wow, greaat, almost died over a lousy compass." jj groans, plopping himself down into a seat.

"it isn't a lousy compass," you mutter, scrambling to retrieve your fathers' compass from your backpack and comparing the two side by side.

they were identical.

"cause that isnt freaky.." pope mumbled, peering over your shoulder.

when you look to john b, he's already looking at you, knowing exactly who this compass used to belong to.

"it's a set," your voice sounds like you have just joined the dots of a brain wracking mystery.

"two compasses, one for each kid."

before anyone can question what exactly john b meant by that, a sharp noise zips past your ear, grazing the top of your arm and scaring the shit out of you.

the five of you look towards the source of the noise, another boat is coming towards the hms pouge, and the two men on board looked far from pleased as they aimed their guns right at the five of you.

"shit, shit!" john b ducks into the drivers seat and hits the gas, jolting all of you backwards as you sped through the marsh "get down!"

you all do as instructed, laying face down on the boats floor, rocking with every sharp, zig-zagged movement john b made. each of you flinch every time a metallic ding rings out against the boat's exterior, you hear kiara humming a tune to keep her mind occupied.

your eyes scan the boat for anything that could help, an idea coming to you the second you spot an old fishing net.

"y/n, what are you doing!? get down!"

you ignore popes shouts, moving quickly to gather up the net and toss it off the back of the boat. as you had hoped, the aggressors' boat gets caught up in the net, allowing john b to get you all out of there without harm.

"you moronic genius!" john b half praises, half scolds, the moment the boat stops at the chateau's dock. grabbing your shoulders and giving you a shake "what is with you and almost dying?"

"a thank you wouldn't hurt," you retort, the throbbing sting in your upper arm still as prominent as when it first happened "this poor girl couldn't handle it."

you pat the side of the hms as you climb off, your fellow pouges following behind as you all tiredly drag your feet towards the house.

"looks gnarly," jj remarked, appearing beside you and focusing his gaze on the small wound on your arm "here, lemme help out."

you are very much aware that it's nothing more than a surface wound, barely a graze, yet you allowed jj to lead you over to the hammock and sit you down.

when he headed inside to grab what he needed, you sank into the comfort of the hammock and closed your eyes. the slight breeze, the gentle rocking of the hammock, the warm sun burning down on you. it does a good job of helping you decompress from the insanity that ensued since your arrival.

the hammock shifts under you when jj returns, the extra weight tilting the fabric to bring you closer to him. he doesn't want to speak, to disturb you in your peaceful bubble. he knows he's staring but he can't look away.

"you just got here and you already look like you've been put through the wringer." jj jokes, though there's a clear sense of seriousness underneath.

and he isn't wrong, the bluish bruises staining your throat from toppers hand, and now the blood smeared all over your arm which made it look much worse than it was.

"two near-death experiences will do that,"

"two near-death experiences so far.."

you know he's telling the truth, but you can't help but laugh as he helps you sit up. a comfortable silence falls between you as he wipes around the graze with a cloth, before gently placing a bandaid over the wound.

the close proximity doesn't seem to phase either of you, at least not enough to get anyone to move. without a word, he reclines back into the hammock, an arm out in a silent invitation.

you reason with yourself that it was harmless, john b's 'macking' rule echoing in your ears as you considered your options. realistically speaking, both you and jj knew this was far from harmless but more like the edge of a slippery slope you could both snowball down.

but you were tired, and it was jj, and the others weren't even around to see it.

no harm, no foul, right?

taglist!

@rainingcecilias @gigistalked @loverofmarsss

[gallusrostromegalus]

Ulquiorra Cifer didn't think about Tousen much at all until he was out on the roof of Las Noches, practicing his second release, and meets the man, sitting alone with his face pointed up at the sky, and he asks Ulquiorra the most peculiar question:

"Are there any stars tonight?"

This was a peculiar question on several fronts:

This sounded like an invitation to engage in a social conversation, a bewildering activity under the best of circumstances, but particularly-

-with the shinigami Lords, and especially Lord Tousen who kept the same social schedule as a reclusive mountain hermit and was always extremely businesslike with a disregard for levity that Ulquiorra thought was refreshingly professional, so

-to hear him ask about the presence of stars was distressing in both that Ulquiorra hoped the man wasn't about to reveal a heretofore unseen saccharine side, and-

-worse, Ulquiorra wasn't actually sure about the existential quality of stars in general.

The arrancar became aware that he was running out of the socially acceptable time frame in which to respond to an Inquiry, and in his haste to avoid causing offense to his commanding officer, slipped up and answered honestly.

"...I don't know."

Tousen frowned, confused. "... you don't know?"

"No Lo- Mr. Tousen." Ulquiorra corrected himself, remembering the myriad corrections other Arrancar received. Perhaps this would divert the flow of this interaction.

"... what's stopping you from knowing?" Tousen asked, head slowly tipping sideways, intently listening at Ulquiorra.

The Arrancar was silent for a long time, glaring up at the sky.

"Mr. Cif-?" Tousen started to ask.

"I can see several thousand points of light in the night sky whose static position indicates but does not exclusively confirm that they are very large lights and extreme distance away." He started. "Many of these lights are recognizable from one night to the next, by consistent color, position and movement."

"Well, that certainly sounds like stars." Tousen nodded. "...so what makes you unsure?"

Ulquiorra was silent again for a long time, but the shinigami waited patiently.

"...My eyes are unusual."

He then failed to elaborate.

Tousen made a small waving gesture to encourage him.

"When I first became aware as the being I am now, I could only see." Ulqiorra finally spoke. "My mask wasn't so much a mask as a cocoon that encased my entire body. I could see, and sometimes feel if something made a particularly strong impact with my body, but. If anyone ever spoke to or called for me, I would not have heard. I did not smell, I did not taste, I did not eat. I was... entirely alone, inside and out."

Tousen frowned sympathetically at him.

"It was wonderful." Ulquiorra sighed. "Everything was beautiful. Everything was clear. If I could see it, it was real. If I could not, it was not. Back then, the stars were real.

"Eventually, I came to the corpse of a giant tree, something more real than anything else had ever been and I... I tried to embrace it, this thing of such wonderfully indisputable existential nature- and it broke the mask encasing my body, and I became 'Ulquiorra' as I am now."

"So... since you became an arrancar, and your senses expanded, the stars don't seem real anymore?" Tousen tilted his head, puzzling.

"I- no. It's not the stars that have changed. It's the nature of what is and is not real." Ulquiorra muttered. "- and it wasn't breaking my mask that changed it. The nature of reality changed when I met Lord Aizen and the others and suddenly there are things that everyone acts like are real but there's no tangible or objective proof of them- like "Loyalty", or The So-Called Soul King Lord Aizen is so opposed to! They all talk about them like they're real observable things but there's nothing- Why are you laughing?"

"I'm sorry- You're so correct it's funny." Tousen apologized, trying to stifle the shaking of his shoulders.

"Why is my being right funny?" Ulquiorra grumbled, eyes narrowing.

"It's not that important. Tell me about the stars." He smiled, patting the roof beside him, indicating Ulquiorra should sit beside him.

With a resigned sigh, Ulquiorra sat down beside the Shinigami.

"Its frustrating to no end- I feel like I'm going mad sometimes when Lord Aizen goes on his monologues about the throne of heaven- I mean, he has a perfectly good chair right here, what does he want with one in another dimension?" Ulquiorra huffed.

"I'm not sure either!" Tousen bared his teeth in a way that only sort of resembled a grin. "As far as things that only sort of exist- You do know that just because something is intangible, or only exists as a social construct, that it's still real, right? For a given value of Real, at any rate."

Ulquiorra stared blankly at him. "What."

Tousen sighed deeply. "Just because a thing is only perceptible to some senses, doesn't mean it's not real. Our senses are quite limited really- only a narrow range of sounds are audible, we only have chemoreceptors for a handful of chemicals- even your eyes can only see a very narrow slice of the full spectrum of light."

Ulquiorra huffed. "I'm aware. But they're still demonstrably real- A hollow with the power of invisibility will eventually bite me. And if it doesn't, then what does it matter to me if it's real or not?"

"Perhaps you would like to know if the invisible hollow is real *before" it bites you?" Tousen asked, resting his cheek on his knuckles and listening at Ulquiorra with interest.

The Arrancar made a low rumbling noise and looked away but didn't disagree.

"The trick is that things that are not immediately perceptible can be inferred by the effect they have on the world around them." Tousen explained. "If nobody had ever told me about the moon, I might have lived in ignorance- it's not like I can hear or smell it, and it's too far to touch. But I might have deduced it's existence by the way it causes tides, and how it changes the behavior of animals with its phases."

"...Hm. Much to think about." Ulquiorra muttered, desperate to get out of this conversation, but didn't get up. They passed sometime in nearly companionable silence, Ulquiorra staring up at the stars.

"...You can't see the moon." Ulquiorra realized. "You're not effected by Aize-MPF!" Ulquiorra was suddenly tackled by Tousen, hands over the Arrancar 's mouth in an exceptionally dangerous maneuver- but something about the fear in his expression made Ulquiorra hesitant to bite his fingers off. The shinigami listened to the night around them, reiatsu unfurling like the wings of some great beast, before he slowly let go and sat back.

"-my apologies, but even discussing suigetsu is a dangerous business." Tousen sighed. "Trust me, I'd know." He laughed darkly.

"-but you'd know if someone else was under the effects of Suigetsu?" Ulquiorra demanded, sitting up and grabbing the shinigami's shoulders. "I- I know only some of us are- certainly Barragan, and I think Hallibel too- but Starrk isn't! I don't know why, but I heard Aizen telling him that he wanted Starrk to 'see me exactly as I am', whatever that means-"

"asshole." Tousen grunted, untangling himself from the Arrancar. "-not you, Aizen. You're worried he's gotten his hook- AUGH!" The shinigami yelped , falling back and clutching his shoulder.

Ulquiorra stared as Tousen struggled to sit up again, an uneasy feeling growing in him, like the hole in his chest was growing.

"I thought perhaps Aizen had left me alone so I could deliver reports to him with my eyes unaffected, but..." He watched Tousen, panting with pain. "...there's something else going on, isn't there?"

"I can't talk about it but- yes, I think I can help." Tousen nodded, starting to undo the buttons of his coat. "Have you ever seen my back before?"

"...No." Ulquiorra frowned.

"Good, good- try to imagine what you think it looks like. You don't have to say, just think about it until you have a firm concept." Tousen nodded. "Got it?"

"Yes." Ulquiorra said, bewildered, them even moreso when the shinigami turned his back to him and dropped his coat.

"Does my back look about how you expected, or different?" Tousen asked, voice strained with an emotion Ulquiorra couldn't quite identify.

"Different." Ulquiorra stared, the sickening sensation growing to almost intolerable levels at the sight of the mutilated flesh- nails pounded into Tousen's spine, characters hapazardly craved into his shoulders. "Very different."

"Then you are not under the influence of Suigetsu." Tousen sighed with relief, pulling his coat back on. "I can't talk about it but- there are hidden depths to Aizen's depravity."

"I see." Ulquiorra muttered, still not getting up. Despite having his question answered and Tousen unable to discuss it further, it somehow felt wrong to leave just yet.

Another wordless void between them, filled only with Tousen's pained panting and the incessant desert wind.

"There are many thousands of what I am now reasonably sure are stars out tonight." Said Ulquiorra and the barking noise Tousen made was somewhere between joy and agony.

"...Thank you, Ulquiorra." Tousen smiled weakly. "Thank you. You have no idea what that means to me."

"... would you like to hear the rest of the report, Sir?" Ulquiorra asked, unsure why, save for a peculiar notion that it was the correct thing to offer.

"Please?" Tousen asked, still pained.

"...there is a very large but non-discrete band of light and shadow spanning the sky from the northwest horizon to the southeast one. It is not quite directly overhead, but if it follows it's normal trajectory, it will pass over us in half an hour..."

AEIWAM Question: What do the various Espada Think of Tousen? Follow-up question, will they, the bunch of dumbasses that they are (because Aizen made them for loyalty, not thinking), declare him their unquestioned leader once Aizen, Gin and Urloquia fork off to see the cosmic taffy pull (also presuming that Barrigan winds up face down in a ditch per canon)?

Bless you for asking this, I needed something to chew on. I'm going to answer these one at a time because the post would be insanely long, and how the thought of him Before the Battle of Karakura Probably:

---

Aaroniero and Arruruerie are SURE they've met before, and that they owes the man a debt of gratitude.

It's possible, they suppose. They have consumed and absorbed the memories of so many hollows that maybe they remember the face from a hollow he killed.

At least, that's what they hope is going on.

But they have Nightmares. Not of being pursued by Shinigami but of being the Shinigami in hot pursuit. Dreams of walking through a city, surrounded by humans that adore them. Names and Faces- Rukia and her dipshit older brother, Jushiro with the nice couch they sometimes pass out on after long nights- if Jushiro's husband wasn't already there. ...Memories, of meeting each other, and falling in love. How it felt as natural to look up to her as it was to gaze at the moon. How waking up to him felt as natural as the dawn. Memories of being married by Captain Ukitake, after Tousen had done them the inexplicable favor of organizing the whole party and acquiring wedding rings. He loves organizing things for people. Ukitake had smiled. Especially weddings. I just hope it's not guilt from the one he didn't get to. His husband had frowned.

That's impossible, of course. They know who they are, how they arose from the vile muck in the shadowy pits of Hueco Mundo. They never stood in the sun one late afternoon, to marry, not with how it burns.

...and yet.

There's no harm in being polite, right? They don't mind locking Glottineria in it's scabbard with an audible click when he comes into the room, to affirm lack of hostilities. Or giving him the cup of tea Aizen gives everyone at his insufferable meetings afterwards- it's not like they can drink it! ...And if sometimes, when they've been working late in the lab studying the effects and causes of Hollowfication, when Tousen gets tired and starts to call them "Kaien" and "Miyako"-

-Well, what's the harm in answering in the voices he expects to hear?

[ramblingautisticman]

So, I haven't stopped thinking about this post I did talking about Logan being terrified of Wade going quiet because of the whole Stryker-sewing-his-mouth thing, so naturally I wrote a lil angsty thing for it.

(Also posted it to A03 here!)

(Also, @icarusredwings hope you enjoy, cause your little reblog of my post kind of inspired this lol!)

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

It's this constant fear. This constant nagging in the back of his head. Logan can't help it.

Normally, he's fine. Wade is practically talking every minute of every day, but on the rare occasions he doesn't, it catches him out.

Wade doesn't need to know that though. Wade doesn't need to be burdened with more of his own stupid hang ups than he already is. So what if some of his nightmares are more focused on Wade than they are his X-Men? No one but him needs to know that.

Logan just subtly makes sure Wade is fine, reminds himself that "Stryker is dead Peanut, trust me. You made sure of that." and moves on with his day. Mostly. Usually.

And okay, yeah, maybe he should tell Wade. Maybe Wade has a right to know about what happened to the 'other' him. Maybe Logan wants to tell him purely for his own stupid reasons. Maybe he wants Wade to know that Logan won't ever let anyone do that to him. Not this time.

He can't bring himself to tell him though- instead just keeps it buried inside like most of his other trauma- and it works for awhile.

Up until Wade gets a cold and loses his voice.

It's fine. It's totally fine. He is totally fine. Logan definitely hasn't been staring at Wade's mouth just to make sure it's still there. He definitely hasn't woken up terrified and sweating because of the nightmares happening more often. He definitely hasn't had a panic attack because Wade couldn't respond to him. No. Not him. Never.

He could deal with it. Wade was just sick. It was his stupid shitty healing factor working over time to stop the cancer, and as a result he had a cold. It was fine. People got colds. People lost there voice. It wasn't the same. Stryker hadn't done this. He still had his mouth. He could still make noise- hell- he could still speak! It was just alittle croaky and quiet.

Logan knew it really shouldn't get to him this much. After all this time, he should be able to move on from that stupid shit, right? He was over 200 years old, he was grown ass man, he shouldn't be hovering near Wade to make sure he is still breathing out of his mouth. He shouldn't be sitting so close to him on the couch just to hear the tiny mutters he makes. He shouldn't be glaring at his mouth just to make sure he still fucking has one.

He knows this Wade- the Wade that saved him- never went through the Stryker bullshit, and he knows that should comfort him. He knows that should fill him with relief, and in a way it does. It means he never had the one thing he holds so dear taken away from him. It just also means that- that could still happen- couldn't it?

Sure, Stryker was dead, but that didn't mean anything. Laura was still made in a lab and experimented on. Wade was still tortured and traumatised. Just because the guy that started all this shit wasn't around anymore, didn't mean it still didn't happen. Logan couldn't help but think that, any day, someone was going to come and take Wade away. Someone was going to hurt him in a way he wasn't sure he could fix.

Wade wouldn't be Wade without his mouth. He was called 'The Merc With A Mouth' for a reason. Wade's whole thing was talking. He loved making his family laugh and using stupid pet names and telling Logan all about the lore of his favourite show. He loved reading to Al and helping Laura with her drama class. He loved coming up with quick comments and snarky remarks while he killed assholes on missions. Wade just wouldn't be the same if he couldn't talk. Logan knew that all to well- and the though that one day, it might still happen? It just didn't sit right with him.

Even after Wade's healing factor fully kicked back in again. Even after Wade was back to rambling about cartoon dogs and his latest mission. Even after Wade had killed someone with a stupid joke. Even after he started making gross sexual remarks again.

Logan still woke up from nightmares terrified that the Wade he was laying next to had a scar tissue covered mouth. Logan still had panic attacks where the only thing to sooth him would be Wade's soft voice. Logan still subconsciously found himself staring at Wade's mouth- just incase. Logan still hated when Wade was quiet while watching a movie or eating something.

He wasn't sure he would ever get over it. Not fully. He would probably get better with the nightmares, grow used to them in a way he had with the others that frequented his mind, but he would still make sure. Double checking.

He would get used to Wade going quiet when he focused on a show or if he had a mouth full of food, but his eyes would still drift to his lips, making sure they were still there.

He would be okay with Wade sometimes loosing his voice, but it would still send a wave of panic over him. It would still make him lean in alittle closer so he could make sure Wade was breathing through his mouth or muttering something.

Wade would probably never know, Logan would probably never tell him, but he would get better. He would remember that this Wade hadn't been touched by Stryker faster when he woke up. He would settle quicker as Wade mutterd a quiet "I got you baby" as he wrapped an arm around him. He would find comfort in the fact that this Wade- his Wade- would never shut up.

No matter how hard anyone tried.

[loveesiren]

Baby Daddy (Pt. 2)

Rafe Cameron x Reader

A/n: Here's part two! Let me know if you guys want more to this story :)

Warnings: Birth, emergency c-section, language, fluff

Word Count: 1.7k+

You leaned your head on Rafe's shoulder, his hand rubbing your swollen belly as you were handed yet another gift.

You were grateful for this baby shower that Rose had put together but you couldn't help the fact that you were absolutely exhausted.

You were in no way prepared for how much pregnancy took a toll on your body. Especially in the third trimester.

You held the tiny pink blanket up. The soft fabric was lined with silk and it was absolutely adorable.

"And when you finally tell us her name, we'll get it stitched on there. Along with her birthday." Sarah said with a smile as her and John B watched you examine their gift.

"It's perfect," You say. "And her name will be revealed once she's born." You chuckle.

"I can't believe you're making us wait," John B whines, rolling his eyes.

"She's gonna be here any day now," Rafe smiled, looking down at you. "And this has been great but Y/N really needs to get some rest."

"But there is still more presents!" Rose whines.

"And she will open them later," Rafe scolds. "She's exhausted."

You were practically falling asleep in Rafe's arms.

"Alright, fine," Rose says as she stands up. "For anyone who would like to continue celebrating, join me in the back yard!"

John B and Sarah stay behind, cleaning up the mess of wrapping paper that littered the living room.

"I'm going to take her up to bed," Rafe said as he stood up and pulled you off the couch.

"Rafe, no, too fat." You grumbled as you felt him try to lift you. "I can do it."

"Baby-"

"I can do it!"

John B and Sarah laugh as you fall back on the couch, obviously too tired to move.

Rafe sighs before bending over and scooping you into his arms.

"Rafe, no-"

"Shhhh," He says, picking you up effortlessly. "Uhm, do you guys need me to-"

"Go," Sarah says with a smile. "We got it."

Rafe offers a small smile before carrying you upstairs to the room the two of you shared. Rose had turned the guest room next to Rafe's room into a nursery. The two rooms sat in a part of the house that was mostly cut off from the rest. It was the perfect little corner for the two of you and your baby while you saved up for your own place.

Rafe laid you down on the bed and pulled the covers over the two of you as he crawled in next to you and cradled your belly. "Get some rest, Mama." He said, placing a kiss on your temple.

"Rafe..." You whispered.

"Yes?"

You could feel his fingers trail over your skin. The way he cared for you and was so gentle and excited for your baby, you couldn't wait anymore. You had to tell him.

"I love you." You say as you look up to meet his eyes.

His breath caught in his throat as he registered your words. "W-what?"

You giggled. "I love you, Rafe. You're amazing. And you're going to be an amazing dad. I know we've been doing this whole pregnancy thing in kind of a weird way but I'd kind of like to be a real a fami-"

Rafe pressed his lips to yours, caressing your cheek as he deepened the kiss. "I've been in love with you for so long," He admitted against your lips. "I want all of this. I want us. I want our baby. I want to be a family."

You smiled at his response. He'd changed so much since you found out you were pregnant. He quit coke. He worked hard. He was constantly at your side making sure you had everything you needed. You practically had to pull him off you so you could go check on John B.

You could see his eyes swelling with tears. "What's wrong, baby?" You asked as you cupped his cheek.

"Nothing," He shook his head as a tear fell from his eye. "I just have my dream girl and I get to meet my fucking daughter soon. My life is perfect."

You couldn't help but tear up at his words. You ran your fingers through his hair as he rested his head on your shoulder. It wasn't long before the two of you drifted off to sleep.

———-

"AHHHHH!" You screamed as you shot up in bed. "Oh my fucking God!"

"What is it baby?!" Rafe asked eagerly as he quickly flipped on the lamp.

"It fucking hurts!" You spit. "Rafe...Rafe I think I'm contracting." You're barely able to get the words out.

"Oh, fuck. Okay!" He yells as he hops out of bed. He opens the door and yells into the hallway. "Dad! Rose!"

"Fuck, FUCK!" You scream.

"Okay, hold on baby, I have your bag." Rafe runs to his closet and pulls out the bag he had packed for you for when the time finally came. "Rose!" He screams again.

"I'm coming! What is it?" She says as her and Ward enter the room. "Oh, okay!"

Rose is by your side instantly, helping you off the bed.

"Ah! I can't-" You say as you fall to the floor. "I can't walk, it hurts so much."

"I got you baby," Rafe says, once again scooping you into his arms with minimal effort.

"Ward, start the car!" Rose commands as she grabs your bag and you all head downstairs.

Rafe climbs into the back seat with you. You dig your nails into his arm as another contraction invades your body.

"It's okay, sweet girl." Rafe says as he presses his lips to your forehead. "Just breathe with me, okay?" He holds your swollen belly up, relieving some of the pressure so you're able to catch your breath.

You can feel the car speeding to the hospital. You can hear Ward and Rose arguing in the front seat. You can feel Rafe wrapped around you, whispering sweetly into your ear. But you couldn't help the black haze that was washing over your vision as you lost consciousness.

"Hey, hey!" Rafe said as he lightly tapped your cheek. "Y/N, baby, stay with me!"

"We're almost there!" Ward says.

"She's unconscious!" Rafe screams.

_____________

Your eyes fluttered open. It was almost painful to keep your eyelids up.

Large windows lined the room, letting in the sunrise. Purple skies as the sun made it's way into view.

You felt so confused. You placed a hand on your belly. No bump. You instantly shot up, panicking at your missing baby bump you had grown so used to.

"Rafe!" You screamed.

"Hey, hey!" Rafe said as he came out of the bathroom, bouncing a tiny human in his arms. "Calm down baby, I'm here. We're here." He smiles as he sits on the bed next to you.

"Is that...is that my daughter?" You ask, taking in her tiny features. She had Rafe's eyes and your lips. A perfect mix of the two of you.

Rafe smiles, moving to place her in your arms. "You did so good, mama."

You hold her gently, tears filling your eyes as she instantly looked for your nipple. You happily fed her, gushing over the fact she knew you were her mother.

"I-I don't even remember."

"It was complicated," Rafe begins, rubbing one hand over your leg and one over her tiny head. "Emergency c-section. Thought I was gonna lose you. But you were so strong."

You couldn't help but cry. A tear falling on your child's cheek but Rafe brushed it away.

"She's been so fussy until now. She doesn't like the bottle." Rafe chuckles.

"How long have a been out?"

"Two days,"

You shudder, realizing you missed the first two days of your child's life.

Rafe pulls himself up to sit behind you. You lean back against his chest as you continue to feed your child. He runs his fingers up and down your arms and places kisses on your temples.

"I love you so much," He whispers.

"I love you too," You said as you felt yourself drift back to sleep. Rafe brought his arms around you to help hold your baby as she finished nursing.

When you woke up again the sun was setting. Rafe was draped over you, snoring softly. Your daughter in a bassinet beside you, sleeping peacefully.

You heard a knock at the door. Rafe shot up, rubbing his eyes as he tried to process what was going on.

"Hmmm, okay." He said, half asleep as he stumbled towards the door.

You felt bad. You knew he'd been doing all of this on his own while you were out. He needed sleep.

"Hey," Rafe said as your family members piled in. You were grateful for the large room.

Rose and Wheezie carried flowers and gifts, placing them on the dresser by the window. Ward followed behind them.

John B and Sarah came in after them with balloons, setting them to the side as they quickly ran to see your baby.

"Jesus," Rafe grumbled as he laid back down beside you. "M' sorry baby. They wouldn't let anyone but me in until today."

You pet his hair and place a kiss on his head as he rests against your shoulder. "It's okay, babe."

You were wide awake now. Rafe tried his best to sit up and interact but you could tell he wasn't going to last long.

John B held your baby as everyone else crowded around him. She was smiling up at him and it made your heart melt.

"So," Sarah asked. "What's her name?"

You turned to Rafe and smiled. He smiled and rubbed his eyes. "Her name is Juliette Lilith Cameron." He announced.

All the girls gushed over the name. John B smiled down at his niece, bouncing her happily.

Ward came around the side of the bed and placed a hand on Rafe's shoulder. "Congratulations, son. You're going to be a great father."

Rafe smiles at his dads words. "Thanks, dad." He gushes. You can't help but tear up. You knew how much Rafe wanted his dad to be proud of him.

After everyone had a turn holding Juliette, Rafe finally ushered them all out, claiming you and baby needed your rest. But in all honesty, you and Juliette were fine. Rafe was the one that needed a break.

After you nursed Juliette and laid her down to sleep, you and Rafe snuggled in your hospital bed, eating mediocre hospital food and watching Family Feud.

"Can I get you anything, baby?" Rafe mumbled against your shoulder, barely able to keep his eyes open.

"Get some sleep, my love." You whisper, placing a kiss on his head.

"Gotta take care of my girls first," He mumbles.

"We're good," You promise him. "We need you to be well rested."

Rafe hums into your skin, wrapping his arm tighter around you but not tight enough to hurt you since you were still healing.

"Love my girls," Was the last thing he said before he drifted off to sleep.

Tags: @torturedtypewritersdept @bigenergy777 @outerbankspov @purplerose291 @shayofandoms @mirellef2001

[arpicityandneed]

Hi there! I'm so excited to hear your page is growing! Your work is amazing and I can't wait to see what you write next. Thank you for taking the time to share your work with us! 💜

If there's still space, could I ask for 2 or 10 with Steve or Bucky?

Thank you again and good luck in school!

Thanks!! It's my pleasure to share honestly.

Steve (#2 sex in front of a big window where anyone could glance up and spot them)

18+ f!reader. Cap!Steve. Dirty talk. Spanking. Semi public sex.

You couldn't breathe, couldn't think, all you could do was feel. Your cheek was pressed against cool glass as your boyfriend fucked you ravenously.

Alright maybe you shouldn't have teased him so much- each selfie sent during a tactical meeting was just your way of passing the time.

In your own defense, you'd been unsupervised.

But Steve had simply thrown you over his shoulder when he got back, ignoring your squeaks of protest. Your tshirt (his actually) was ripped in half before you got thrown on the bed, and all you got was one of his shit eating grins and a "you asked for it" before he was on you.

That was three- four? rounds ago, and at this point you weren't sure if you wanted to curse or thank Erskine's serum. Your boyfriend's stamina was endless.

"Come on pretty girl, where'd all that attitude go hm?" Steve was panting in your ear, thrusting his wickedly fat cock into your cum filled pussy over and over as his massive hand slapped your ass cheek.

"Thought you wanted my attention. Well now you have it baby." He bit down on your shoulder hard enough to leave teeth marks as you clenched down around him, every roll of his hips dragging the head of his cock over your spot and making you keen.

"Stevie," you moaned completely out of it as you fucked yourself back onto his cock shamelessly, each balls deep kiss of his tip to your cervix making your eyes cross.

"Yeah yeah, I'm here sweetheart. Just gotta gimme one more and I'll let you rest for a bit mkay?" Steve may be enthustiatic but he was still gentle with your nonenhanced body. (As gentle as you wanted him to be anway.)

All it took was his hand snaking around to find your clit before you were screaming his name, grateful for the soundproof glass of Stark tower.

Steve groaned and pulled your hips flush against his before he added even more of his super sized load to your overflowing folds. If you had hand shaped bruises on your hips tomorrow you wouldn't be surprised, but more importantly you wondered if birth control worked with super soldier sperm.

Gentle hands picked you up when you would've fallen to the floor happily, carrying you to the shower and turning on the hot water as they held you close.

"Hey baby, can you open your eyes for me?" Steve cajoled softly, cupping your cheek in his hand as you blinked up at him blearily.

"Try that shit again and I'll have Bucky deal with you, he loves putting little brats like you in their place." Your eyes widened in shock and more than a little bit of interest, and it just made Steve laugh.

"Next time baby, rest now."

~

(10 minutes prior)

Bucky moved silently, Steve's text with coordinates and a simple note 'enjoy the show' made him curious he could admit. But he wasn't expecting to see your pretty little self fucked out and pressed against the glass.

Steve had picked the perfect spot, the exact coordinates giving Bucky a private view of Steve's window and your fully naked body split open on his best friends cock.

"Well I'll be damned," Bucky muttered as he adjusted his erection in his pants.

Even 70 years later, Stevie was still a fucking punk.