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kykyonthemoon · 23 days ago

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His Mini Version

His reaction when he saw the little doll version of himself that you possessed.

── .✦ Character x Female Reader (MC)

Included parts in order: Rafayel, Xavier, Zayne, Sylus, Caleb.

♡︎. Tags: fluff, domestic fluff, soft and sweet, plush dolls, established relationship, jealousy (Xavier's part), long distance relationship (Caleb's part)

♡︎. Word count: ~2k4

♡︎. Requested by Yue AuV.

── .✦ Masterlist ♡ Request a fic - closed for the time being.

Rafayel

“Huh?”

Rafayel picked up the plush doll on the table, examined it for a moment, then turned to you and asked, "Is this how you think of me?"

You blinked. "Lovely, right?"

Rafayel frowned. He raised the doll to your eye level and said:

“Hear me out, Miss Bodyguard. I do look handsome and stylish, my physique is toned, with a model-like form. Yet, why... Why is this doll that you believe to resemble me so... chubby?"

"Rafayel!" You shrieked and swiftly grabbed both hands to cover the doll's ears. "How can you say that in front of Little Fish?! He'll feel terrible for himself!"

Rafayel gazed at you, then at the plush doll you had just given a name. His body was spherical, with small arms and legs coming out of it. His face was likewise round and fully linked to his body, resembling a huge cotton ball with purple hair patches on top.

"I've gained a little weight lately," Rafayel said, pouting while rubbing his belly. “But I'm definitely not that round!”

“I made him exactly like you for a purpose. Criticizing him means you are criticizing yourself.”

Rafayel did not give up. He took up Little Fish and brought it near to your face so you could compare.

“Don't you think he's muuuuuuuuch less attractive than me? His body is not as beautiful as mine. He is not as cute or talented as me. Can he paint? Can he make you laugh? What makes you think he can ever replace me?!”

You tried not to laugh when Rafayel puffed up his cheeks, looking like a pufferfish, even identical to that plump plush doll. You replied:

“Well, you don't know that Little Fish also has a very special feature that is different from other dolls!”

"What's so amazing about it? Tell me."

You extended your hands to accept the doll from Rafayel. When you gently squeezed the center of his chest, Little Fish made a sound mimicking Rafayel's voice:

“Hello Miss Bodyguard! Hello Miss Bodyguard!”

Rafayel stared at him with wide eyes. His demeanor changed from astonished to slightly suspicious.

"I recorded your voice," you added. "Simply hit the button, and he will talk. I can make a new recording if you want. What do you think? He's good, huh?"

You enthusiastically hugged Little Fish and approached him. Rafayel simply scratched his head. “Humans certainly have many strange toys,” he commented. But in the end, seeing you having so much fun with the plush doll, he patted your head and said: "Even though it's a bit ugly and weird compared to my standards, I'm still happy that Miss Bodyguard likes me so much that she even owns a plush doll designed after me!"

Xavier

Since joining Lumiere's fanclub, which was founded by your colleague Nero, you frequently brought home merchandise related to him. There were badges, cards, decorations, and even cotton goods. Among the dozens of Lumiere products that take up room in your residence on a daily basis, you absolutely adored the plush doll named Lumi.

Lumi had two bunny ears and was only a little larger than your hand, making him easy to carry anywhere and at any time. When you worked, he would stand on the desk to encourage you. When you trained, he would slip into your coat pocket and patiently wait for you on the bench. Every time you went out, you carefully put him in your bag. When you arrived home, he was usually on the couch next to you, or cuddled in your arms while you watched TV together. Even when you slept, you would bring him into bed, place him next to your pillow and cover him with a blanket.

Needless to say, this made Xavier quite uneasy. He had not liked Lumi one bit since he appeared in your arms for the first time. The plush doll occupied all your attention. He accompanied you everywhere, all the time. Your phone was full of pictures of him. Even when you slept, the doll was allowed to sleep with you while Xavier was left out. He sat on the edge of the bed, crossing his arms and glancing at Lumi.

“That's it, kiddo.”

Lumi opened his large blue eyes to stare at Xavier.

“You must leave.”

A rabbit ear on Lumi's head drooped down.

“Give her back to me. Besides, the place where you sleep used to be mine."

The plush doll continued to stare at him with such innocence. Just as Xavier was about to pick him up, you walked into the room. You had changed your clothing, and of course, your pajamas included Lumiere's chibi pattern on them.

“What are you talking about with little Lumi?” You asked.

“Ah, nothing. I'm just telling him to go away.”

"Huh? Why? He's so little, he won't take up too much room on the bed, right?"

Xavier gave him a glance before turning to you, and his eyes quickly returned to their round, watery condition.

“He's been following you all day. Why does he even take my place at night? Do you really like him more than me?”

Xavier knew too well that you easily got softened when he acted like that. If Lumi's cuteness captured your heart, he would reclaim it by the same method.

“It's not like that,” you replied. One of your hands caressed Xavier's cheek. “Lumi is the one who will protect me in my dreams on the long nights while you're not here.”

Xavier rubbed his face into your palm. He said, “But now that I'm here, Lumi can go elsewhere.”

You thought what he said was right. So you compromised and placed the doll on the opposite side of your pillow, rather than between you and Xavier as previously. You snuggled into Xavier's arms. He remained silent, as if he had a lot on his mind. Then, after you had fallen asleep, he covertly grabbed Lumi and threw him to the ground, then hugged you even tighter.

Zayne

You set a lunch box on Zayne's desk, then placed something else on top.

It was a little plush doll measuring about ten centimeters. He had black hair, green bean eyes with a little brownish-yellow tint, he also donned a white blouse just like a certain doctor.

“What do you have there? A mini version of me, it seems?” Zayne asked while putting away the files on his desk to prepare for lunch with you.

“Hehe,” you happily took the doll. He nestled into the palm of your hand. “Doctor Zayne, look how small you are! I can hold you with just one hand.”

Zayne gave you a little grin. Then he grabbed your other hand, pulling you closer to him.

"Of course." But if you use both hands, you'll be able to handle more than one Doctor Zayne.

You grasped both big and small Zayne with care.

Lunch that day went really well. Before departing, you slipped the little plush doll inside your coat pocket on the left side of your chest, patted it a few times, and told Zayne:

“This is where tiny Zayne will stay every day. I will take him everywhere, including work, amusement parks, and even home. He will always be by my side!”

Zayne smiled and responded, "It turns out that I can cure not only your heart disease, but also your love sickness?"

You blushed. The Zayne standing in front of you suddenly leaned down, as if talking to the little doll in your pocket: "Miss Hunter and this plush doll's entire day would be so hectic. Would you mind asking her whether she still has time to join me for dinner tonight?"

You laughed when you noticed Zayne's childishness. You replied: “Of course I do. But after all, little Zayne is still an intern here. What are Doctor Zayne's thoughts about being his mentor?"

Zayne stood up straight, tenderly touching the doll's cheek with his finger. "All right. I'll be spending time with Intern Zayne. But when I do that, the lady who takes care of Intern Zayne should come along as well.”

As soon as he finished speaking, Zayne's fingers rose to push on your face. You puffed up your cheeks and nodded firmly in accord. From that day on, all your dates with Zayne were accompanied by little Intern Zayne, and he even made arrangements for the doll to have a separate seat by the windshield of his car.

Sylus

Sylus made frequent late-night visits to your place. That night was no exception. But he was astonished to see you open the door with a worn out expression, dragging a big plush doll on the ground.

"Why does it look so familiar?" Sylus spoke after studying the doll. He was around sixty centimeters tall, with white hair, red eyes like two rubies, and a signature smirk that looked so much like Sylus's.

"Huh? Oh, Baby Crow is a mini version of you!” You replied. After closing the door, you strolled back to the living room, holding the doll. You and him fell onto the sofa. Feeling tired after a long day, you had decided to hug the doll to bed before Sylus arrived.

He looked at you and that Baby Crow doll on the sofa and clicked his tongue. “It's a little huge compared to the definition of mini. And what the heck are you putting on me?”

Sylus snatched him out of your grasp. The doll - his little version - was dressed in pink Hello Kitty patterned pajamas, identical to the ones you were wearing. He frowned.

“You and the doll even have matching pajamas. Where are mine then?”

Slowly opened your eyes on the sofa, you giggled: "Seeing that you like it so much, I will make you a set tomorrow. There are also Kuromi ones."

Sylus leaned down and kissed your hair, whispering: "Sleeping on the sofa will hurt your body." Then he helped you get up. You wrapped all of your limbs around Sylus's torso, as he held you with one hand and carried Baby Crow inside the room with the other.

Another night, when Sylus arrived home late, he caught you cuddling Baby Crow and sleeping soundly on the bed. Both of you were wearing the purple Kuromi pajamas you had mentioned before. He grinned as he softly punched Baby Crow.

“Hey, you're taking up my space,” he told him.

The plush doll's challenging smile appeared to be taunting him. Sylus removed him from your arms and placed him at the end of the bed. Because there was nothing left to hug, you rolled over slightly, your fingers constantly searching for warmth until you found him.

Sylus took the doll's place, held you, and allowed you to immerse yourself in his arms. He said quietly: "You don't need a plush version of me anymore when you have the real one here, right?"

The next morning, still drowsy, you cuddled him and told him that your Baby Crow had grown into a genuine person.

Caleb

Caleb sent you a surprise package. Curious, you opened it and discovered a plush doll the size of a pillow inside. What was worth noting was that the doll resembled him, with purple eyes and an apple on his head. You phoned to show off to Caleb, who was still on duty at Skyhaven.

“Oh, you got him? I mean, Baby Cal?”

“You even have a name for him?” You grabbed the doll and placed him in your lap so Caleb could see him through the video call screen.

"Of course. I purposefully ordered him specifically for you. He's a present.” Caleb smiled brightly. He was free at the time, but his mission had yet to end so he could not come home to you right away.

You gazed down at the doll on your lap. He was so warm, and his adorable chubby face reminded you so much of Caleb. You inquired:

“But why did you send him to me?”

"To keep you company when I'm away on missions, of course," was his reply. "He will remind you to eat and go to bed on time, or hug you when you're weary."

You touched Cal's head. It was true; he was so soft that you simply wanted to squeeze him.

"Is this your compensation for not coming home for a month?"

Caleb laughed. He seemed a little sad. Then he instantly returned to his regular fresh appearance.

“Do you like him?”

"Of course. I can even release my rage on him every time I'm angry at you. Look!”

Having said that, you squeezed the doll's cheeks really hard. Caleb laughed from the other side of the screen. "Poor, little Cal. It looks like he'll have to take my position as your punching bag for a while now."

You kneaded the doll's cheeks again. He even donned a military uniform similar to Caleb's. The doll would not be able to replace him, you know; yet his existence would sooth your longing for the real person.

You leaned your head against Cal and asked Caleb:

“I have Cal here. What about you?”

“Oh, wait a minute.”

Caleb disappeared from the screen. You heard a rustling noise. A few minutes later, he emerged with another plush doll dressed in a Hunter suit. You immediately recognized it as a plush replica of yourself.

“This is little Hunter,” said Caleb. “She and little Cal are a couple. Every time I look at her, I will always think of you. For example, when I enter the room, she will appear and say: 'Why haven't you bought a ticket to Linkon yet?!' or 'You still dare to stay up late playing games?!'..."

You burst into laughter. "I didn't say it in that awful voice. But how old are you to even buy these things?..."

“I've been teased a lot by colleagues these past few days since I got little Hunter,” Caleb told you. “But since I think you also like plushies, I wanted to make something for you.”

"Thank you." You smiled, lovingly rubbing the doll he sent. “I like little Cal, but he's going to miss little Hunter very much. You mentioned that they were a couple. It means they should not be apart for too long, right?”

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drdemonprince · 11 months ago

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have you defined the meaning of “white woman brain” anywhere and if not, can you? /gen

Many Black and brown feminist writers have discussed this phenomenon and I encourage you to seek out a lot of writing about this subject, because there are a variety of perspectives, but to distill it, white woman fragility brain is a phenomenon that is not exclusive to either white people or to women, but is especially common among those who can weaponize white womanhood, and it consists of the following qualities:

A view of oneself as a helpless victim that is constantly in threat of being attacked, especially by strangers (even though statistically, this is not the case).

A refusal to consider oneself as capable of doing harm to others, especially a lack of consideration toward others' body autonomy or consent. (even while being highly concerned about one's own autonomy and consent).

A generally passive or passive-aggressive orientation toward the world: seeing oneself as a romantic or sexual object to be approached, but never wanting to initiate (or feeling that one never can), never feeling comfortable directly communicating displeasure or one's desires, believing that others instead must guess at it. (and then resenting people when they don't, but never expressing it).

A tendency to cry, excessively berate oneself, complain about being made to feel "unsafe," or give up when criticized or challenged, especially when challenged by people of color.

A tendency to associate a person's body type with how much of a threat they are. For example, feeling unsafe around people with penises and expecting a social space to accommodate that fear to cater to you, a fear of people who come from cultures where it's common to speak loudly, a fear of those who are large, assertive, and/or darker-skinned.

Instinctive fawning-type responses to stress, and a pattern of feigning happiness, agreeability, and ease when one is not genuinely feeling it, and expecting all other people (but especially other women) to feign happiness as well, paired with a deep-seated resentment of anyone who violates this illusion and expresses any negativity (being especially punitive toward women of color).

Instinctively "smoothing over" conflict between other people before it even begins, even when healthy conflict is necessary and not at all your business-- often performed by gossiping behind other people's backs, triangulating information when it is not yours to share, asking people to alter their behavior in order to avoid a reaction from somebody else, presenting your concerns as if they were somebody else's ("what will people think!"), tone-policing the airing of grievances, derailing hard conversations with more light-hearted topics, and excluding people who are known to be candid and assertive.

Here are some articles on elements of the phenomenon and why it is so dangerous:

Now, I single white cis women out a lot when I am describing this phenomenon, because they have the most to gain from exhibiting these qualities, but make no mistake: this is a pattern that many types of people can and do use. I have seen white trans women use white women's tears to silence critique. I have witnessed women of color being passive-aggressively derailed and silenced by a Black manager who was in a position of institutional power over them. Multiple of the women who sexually harassed me in the story linked above were not white. And LORD knows I see plenty of t boys falling back on this shit, as well as cis men from wealthy backgrounds. It's a mindset that has deep colonial roots and we all must be on the look out for it in ourselves and others, and we must be vigilant in uprooting it.

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chevroletdean · 1 month ago

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nsft alphabet [dean winchester] ── ✮⋆˙

genre: smut, explicit ─ minors dni! a/n: writing headcanons was easier than a kinktober one shot, oops. enjoy, i'll try to follow up with a sam version soon. and possibly other characters? (i'm feeling like writing one for alec mcdowell tbh) feel free to request any in my inbox! credit & links: alphabet ──〃★ dividers ──〃★ request here taglist: comment a green heart 💚 to be added to the dean x reader taglist (please note: ageless blogs will only be tagged in fluff and angst posts) @winchester-whiskey @whormotional @spacecowgirl126

A = Aftercare (What they’re like after sex)

It honestly depends on where you guys are, but generally speaking, he always makes sure you’re okay. If there’s anything you need, he’ll tend to it – which can range from a clean towel to a gentle forehead kiss. Even if you’re technically on the run or have somewhere urgent to be, he at least makes sure you’re both good to go.

Preferably he likes to take his time with you though. The aftermath of sex is one of the rarer opportunities for Dean to be openly sappy and vulnerable. Even with hookups, to some degree at least, the warmth of a lover’s arms is one of the places he can fully relax and he wants them to feel just as comfortable.

That said, he can be a little lazy. He makes sure the necessities of aftercare are fulfilled, always, but don’t always expect a luxurious bubble bath and immediately changing the sheets. Oftentimes he just wants to collapse onto bed with you and catch his breath.

He’s 50% giddy and proud smile – all cocky grins and smug bragging – and 50% sleepy. Your embrace is the closest he can get to experiencing heaven, he’s sure and getting to rest his head against your chest is the best feeling on earth. The sound of your steady heartbeat will definitely lull him to sleep and he’s insistent on cuddling the whole night through.

B = Body part (Their favourite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

He has a love-hate relationship with his face. People keep telling him he’s handsome and even call him a pretty boy and sometimes he can’t see what they see. Most of the times his face card is a useful tool when it comes to investigation and working his charms. Other times he can’t stand looking at his own reflection. But when you compliment him on his freckled nose, his green eyes and long lashes, he definitely takes pride in it.

This particularly applies to his lips. He knows you love how pink and plump they are. And how pretty you think that smile of his is. It gets him anywhere he wants. Plus, the things he can do to you with that mouth, speaking sweet nothings, kissing you all over… what’s not to take pride in?

As for you, he’s a simple man, sometimes bordering on caveman – he’s obsessed with your butt and not shy to let you know. Whenever he gets the chance, his hand is somewhere on or close to your ass.

Your hands too though, not a chance he passes up on to hold it, and he’ll be damned if he doesn’t think about your hands on him 24/7. If you wear any rings or nail polish, he always notices.

C = Cum (Anything to do with cum basically… I’m a disgusting person)

Loves to ask “Where do you want it, baby?” but his personal favorite is definitely in your mouth. Not even down your throat, he loves seeing you stick your tongue out for him, all coated in his cum, before you swallow.

He’s tried tasting his own cum before out of curiosity and had conflicted feelings about it. He’s even considered changing his diet afterwards, but (unsurprisingly) he got tired of eating so much fruit pretty quickly.

D = Dirty Secret (Pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Not really a secret, since it’s literally canon and we all know he loves wearing lacy panties, but yeah. He definitely stole a pair of your underwear before and he’ll deny having seen it anywhere if you’d ask.

Since he loves sexting, he definitely has a nude or two of you and after annoying Sam enough to show him how the stupid printer worked, he now keeps his favorite lewd picture of you in his wallet, because why not? It’s especially useful when you two have to be separated because you’re working on different cases or something of the sort.

E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)

Dean has obviously fucked around a lot (literally), countless of hookups under his belt. He definitely knows what he’s doing and he can be very annoying about it when he boasts.

F = Favourite Position (This goes without saying. Will probably include a visual)

You on top of him is his favorite sight. His hands get to grab everywhere and he loves that he can focus on watching his cock slide in and out of you as you ride him.

G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc)

Sex, for Dean, is fun. It’s a good time, where you get to enjoy each other and make each other feel amazing. If he can’t get a giggle or a smile out of you, he thinks he’s not doing his job right.

However, there are definitely occasions that call for a more serious mood. Such as intimate moments after a rough day, where he and you just want to unwind and feel each other.

H = Hair (How well groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.)

Short answer: He keeps his pubic hair trimmed, but not completely shaved.

Long answer: There’s other body hair he treats differently. Over the years he’s developed light chest hair, which he sometimes bothers to shave. He keeps his happy trail, as he’s never thought about it. His thighs are somewhat hairy. His body hair sometimes has a little hint of red color mixed into it.

I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect…)

Unfortunately there’s little room for the real big romantic settings, such as rose petals and lit candles around the bedroom. With life on the road for the most part, you have to make do with what you have. He tries to make each time as special as possible though, it’s always passionate.

Dean’s a big softie once he lets his guard down, which you manage with ease. Very verbal, huge on saying sweet nothings. Lots of kisses. Definitely likes holding or touching you throughout it all. If possible, not a sheet of paper will fit between you two.

Eye contact is his strong suit. Doesn’t matter what position you’re in or what you’re doing, he loves getting lost in your eyes. If you ever avert your gaze or close your eyes, he reminds you to keep them on him.

J = Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon)

Dean, as a certified porn addict, beats his meat a lot. His libido is high and he can’t always come crawling to you, so he relies on trusty lube and his hand more often than he likes to admit.

Definitely has a fantasy of you walking in on him and lending him a helping hand.

K = Kink (One or more of their kinks)

Roleplay! Just the thought of you in a sexy costume gets him hard. You’d make him the happiest man alive if you greeted him in a nurse costume. He’d also be into a police officer costume, handcuffs included. It’s fun and it allows you two to play pretend for a bit.

Praise, both ways. He’s always gushing about how good you are, how amazing you feel, how pretty you look while you’re fucking. In return, he loves getting praised by you. Nothing fuels him more than pleasing you and he’s so eager for those compliments.

Food play, to some degree. He loves seeing your pretty mouth stuffed, lips wrapped around a sweet treat in seductive fashion. Or when he gets to lick whipped cream from your skin? Again, playful and fun.

L = Location (Favourite places to do the do)

His favorite location for sex remains a bed (bedroom, motel, he’s not too picky in that regard), because there he can take his time with you.

Of course making sweet love to you in the backseat of his car is always an option, too. The way the Impala's windows fog up is addictive for him.

That said, he won’t say no to other options. Not an inch of the bunker has not been defiled by the two of you. Shower, kitchen, the table in the main hall, the library, even Sam’s room while he was out. You name it, he’s fucked you there at least once.

M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)

Dean Winchester’s mind runs dirty at the smallest things. It doesn’t take much to pop the idea into his head that he wants to bend you over the nearest furniture or pin you against the nearest wall to have his way with you.

When you’re in a grumpier mood – that might sound shitty, but hear me out: He loves your gruffier, feisty side, because it makes him wish he could make that tension in your shoulders melt under his touch. He wants to kiss that scowl away and make you see stars until you forget about why you were even mad in the first place. You are hot. You being angry is even hotter, and it’s like a challenge for him to do something about it. Plus, you could always take it out on him, dominate the shit out of him until you’re no longer pent up and frustrated.

What never fails to drive him absolutely crazy is you wearing his clothes. You in his shirt or jacket makes his heartbeat skyrocket and his dick rock hard. It awakens something primal and possessive within him.

N = NO (Something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

A hard no for him would be anything involving causing you (intense) pain. I’d go as far and say he’d not even be into spanking, unless it’s like a playful slap on your ass. He’s not even a fan of choking or biting you. He hates seeing you hurt and if things get too intense, it’ll only trigger memories of him being forced to torture others in hell. There's already enough blood and guilt on his hands.

O = Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc)

Hear me out when I say earlier seasons Dean goes weak in the knees when you suck him off. Nothing more of an ego boost than you drooling over his cock.

Later seasons Dean though? He likes to give head like a starved man. Getting you off is a huge turn on for him and admittedly, you riding his face is a high that he can’t compare to anything else. He’ll use every part of his mouth, lips, tongue, teeth until your legs give out and he has to hold you against him.

P = Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.)

It depends on the mood. He can do both, but he prefers slow and sensual. Dean loves taking his sweet time with you, worshiping every inch of your body. He wants to cherish the moment and really commit every detail to memory.

Q = Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.)

Again, proper and passionate sex is his preferred way to go. But even then he has a high sex drive and more often than not, you don’t have much time for anything but a quickie. Most of the time, actual proper sex is a luxury, so you make do with what you can.

If you two have to rush it, you might as well have fun with it: It’s turned into a challenge of how quickly he can make you come undone on his cock versus how long it’ll take for you to make him orgasm.

R = Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.)

Leaning towards no. Referring back to the fact that he doesn’t like hurting you, he also doesn’t like putting you into danger. Safety comes first, otherwise it’s not enjoyable for him.

On the flipside, he’s experimental when it comes to new things. You wanna try out a new kink? Sure! He won’t say no to spicing up your sex life. Just nothing involving potential damage.

He definitely is risky when it comes to public spaces. Likes to steal touches, sometimes subtle, sometimes not so much. The thrill of potentially getting caught red handed with his fingers between your legs under the table? Fuck, yes.

S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last…)

He’s not done until you are.

Lasts an average time, but that doesn’t mean he can’t go for a round two. Or three. Or more, you get the idea. Unless the situation calls for anything out of the order, he makes sure to be gentleman enough to make you cum first.

T = Toy (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)

Handcuffs for him, or anything to tie him up with, you can get creative, so long as you tease him until he’s a whimpering mess unable to touch you.

Once you pulled out a butt plug and initially he thought it was for you, but, oh, was he wrong. Since then it has turned into a regular part of your bedtime activities.

He’s not one to get jealous of a toy, so if you want to use anything to rile yourself up further, he sees it as an aid more than a competition. Plus, there’s something insanely arousing about seeing you play with yourself, whether it is with the help of a toy or not.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

More than anything he enjoys being on the receiving end of teasing. You can make him beg so prettily.

However, that’s during the sex itself. When it comes to working you up beforehand, he’s a master. Teasing touches, sultry words, dangerous spark in his eyes and a cheeky grin? He’s bold and he’s not afraid to bite off more than he can chew.

V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make)

If you want him to be, he can be so damn vocal. Big on the whimpering department if you dominate him. And, again, just as enthusiastic regarding sweet praise and dirty talk.

Other than that, he’s usually all heavy panting and grunting. Not so much moaning and screaming, that’s what he tries to make you do.

W = Wild Card (Get a random headcanon for the character of your choice)

He knows it’s cliché, but he likes to turn on the record player when he has sex. Playing some music during the hanky panky makes the whole experience even better. His playlist, of course, consists mostly of classic rock, but he’s genuinely picked the more romantic songs. Nothing Else Matters by Metallica, Fool in the Rain by Led Zeppelin, Love in an Elevator by Aerosmith… you get the idea. After an especially passionate night to a whole LP of Led Zeppelin, he couldn’t help but flinch and turn bright red when the same songs started playing in his car the next day. Dean also made a mixtape just for the occasion as a gift for you.

X = X-Ray (Let’s see what’s going on in those pants, picture or words)

A good six and a half inches, about seven when he’s hard, in size and definitely on the thicker side in girth.

It’s smooth minus that one prominent vein on the underside.

Pink tip that turns even brighter when he’s aroused.

Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

He broke the scale, Dean is one horny bastard.

He’s either going to town on you, much to the dismay of anyone else in the bunker, or he’s pent up most of the time.

Z = ZZZ (… how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

After making sure you’re okay and putting in some effort to clean up (at least a little), he’s out like a light. Dean is a light sleeper, but the blissfully exhausted state he finds himself in after exerting himself makes him clock out. It takes everything from him to not just collapse on top of you and say hello to dreamland sometimes.

#supernatural headcanons #dean winchester headcanons #dean winchester x reader #dean x reader #dean winchester x you #dean x you #dean x y/n #dean winchester x y/n #supernatural x reader #supernatural x y/n #supernatural x you #spn x reader #spn x you #spn x y/n #spn headcanons #dean smut #spnhc #spnsmut #chevroletdean writes

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rising-starrr · 2 months ago

Note

hey..👹

street racer!Choso x nerdy!reader

NASTY FRAKY SLOPY MESSY DIRTY SHLOPY JUICY WET CARS SEX🤭 like so basically R is a fan of him and snuck out (she has strict parents and shes a good girl) to the street race and found herself talking to choso after the race (he won of course) and he was falling for her in many ways but he really wanted to fuck and so he took her to his car and sent homegirl to POUNDTOWN AND KEPT POUNDING. because she got that good pussy🤭 yk and he cant get enough overstimulating himself and her but she doesn’t mind. she just has to try and make it home before her parents wake up. good thing its the weekend huh🤭🤭

Send that pussy to poundtown ! - Street Racer!Choso Kamo

warnings: street racer Choso, nerdy Reader, slightly rough sex, Choso having a lot of stamina, car sex, choking, hair pulling, Reader having strict parents, overstimulation, backshots, size kink(bro’s dick is like 11-12 inches).

He can’t get enough of that cunt!/🌽link

Choso Kamo

As usual you were at home studying your ass off for your next quiz. Your parents were strict, so they barely allowed you to go anywhere, even if you didn't have any up-coming quizzes or tests.

You never understood why they were so strict anyways, you passed all your tests, exams, and quizzes, straight A's, top of the class, and they still don't let you get a break.

Crazy thing is you don't even live with them, they just keep in contact with your principal. But you're staying with them for spring break.

“You better be studying!” Your mother snapped as she slammed open your door, standing there with your father right behind her.

You look up from your book and nod . “Yes mother, I am.” You say as you look back down at your book.

Your mother didn’t know if you were lying or not, she was just really stupid to believe her own child.

“Good. You need to be prepared for the test after spring break.” She says, as she looks around your room. “What is with all these goddamn posters of this person ?”

That 'person' was Choso Kamo, a really famous street racer that you have a huge crush on. You didn't know when you developed a crush on him, you saw him on TV and fell in love.

You sigh as you look back down at your book, your mother was always yelling at you for the dumbest reasons possible. Meanwhile your father just stood there and allowed her to yell at you.

She huffed as she turned away from you and slammed your door. One day, that door was going to break off, and you weren't about to take the blame for it.

You stand up and open your door, putting your 'i'm studying, do not disturb' sign on your door and closing it, then locking it.

Sighing as you take out your phone, and check the time. It was 7pm, it was almost time for you to get ready for the street race.

MY BAE(BESTIE<3)

- girl ! where are you ? I'm parked around the corner

read at 7:02pm

you look around as you climb out your window and run towards your best friend’s car. You sighed as you got in and she began to drive off to the race.

When you had finally got there, the race was about to start, and you caught glance of Choso Kamo, he was getting in his car, and starting his engine up.

As soon as the flag went down for the racers to start, Choso started off with incredible speed, and safe to say he won!!

Being the shy person you are, your best friend had to drag you up to Choso, just so you would ask him for an autograph, and hug while you're at it!

You look back at your best friend as she nods, looking over to Choso. “Can.. I get your autograph please?”

You questioned, holding out the journal and pen out to him in case he says yes. He hums as he takes the book and signs it.

‘Choso K.♡’ is what your journal read. He put a cute little heart! You smile as you look back at him.

“Hm, I’ve seen you around, you wanna take a ride in my car sweets ?” Choso questioned as he took your hand in his.

You stutter over your words before shutting up and just nodding. He smirks as he leads you to his car and opens the passenger door for you.

You smile as you get inside the car, and puts the seatbelt on. He hums as he gets in on the other side and starts up the engine.

He began to drive through the neighborhood, his thumb tracing small circles on your inner thigh. He looks at you, asking if he has consent to go further.

Your crush — Choso Kamo, wanted to touch you ? Why pass up such an offer! You nod as he moves his hand up further, stopping in a random parking lot.

“Get in the back seat for me sweets.” He says, as you begin to unbuckle your seatbelt and crawl in the back, him following after you.

He asks for permission to push your skirt up, and makes sure your comfortable, he may be a very messy, and anger-issued person in the streets, but in the sheets, he's sweet and aggressive.

You nod as he pushes up your skirt and moves your panties to the side as you hum. He puts his face between your legs, taking in your scent to his nose.

All he smelled was a sweet cunt that was about to get ravished. To him, you smelled like candy, and sweets all that he loved.

He grips your hips, pulling you closer to his face. His face buried in your cunt, as he sticks his tongue to taste you.

“Shit, you taste so fucking good, sweets..” he murmurs as he comes back up and keeps one hand on your hip, the other unbuckling his belt.

He pushes down his boxers and began lazily stroking his cock. you look back, seeing how big his dick was, that shit wasn’t going to fit in you!

He positions his cock at your entrance, humming as he pushes down on your back, making you arch more.

Your face was pressed against his backseat, as he pushed himself inside of you. “Fuck — you feel so good” he murmurs as his grip on your hips tighten.

He began pounding away at that cunt of yours, making himself pussy drunk. He was pounding away as he gripped your hips harder.

His hair clinging to his forehead as he threw his head back. He just kept pounding, not letting either of you cum, he wanted to savor this moment.

Fucking the cute girl of his dreams? Complete! He just finished his bucket list, but he knows he’ll have to make another just to fuck you again.

“Cho—so! Cu—mming!” You managed to scream out, something that wasn’t just his name, or stupid moans about how good his dick was.

His grip on your hips tightened up, as he pressed his chest against your back, whispering sweet nothings into your ear. “cum for me then.”

He murmured as you listened and finally came on his dick. He soon followed after you as you came. “Good girl”

He pulled back and took the condom off.(don’t ask me when he put it on..) He threw it in the trash can he had in his car and pulled you up.

“I should drive you home pretty. You plan to come to my next race right ?” He questioned as he got back in the front seat after cleaning you up and throwing the rag away.

You nod simply as you lay in his backseat, he hums as he looks through his mirror and drives you back home.

You thank him for the drive and walk off, to climb back into your window, it was 2 in the morning currently and your parents were still asleep.

Or should have been. They weren’t, they were having the night of their lives like you just did!

You yawn as you change and fall right onto your bed, a piece of paper flying out of your pocket. It was his number!

I LOVED THIS REQUEST SO MUCH WHAT AND I’M SORRY IT TOOK ME SO LONG TO DO IT

#jjk #jjk smut #choso kamo #street racing #protection #choso smut #choso x reader #jujutsu kaisen #twitter links #p links #poc reader

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buckymorelikefuckme · 2 years ago

Text

cry baby

bucky barnes x fem reader

words: 7.3k

warnings: **18+ ONLY** smut, edging, overstimulation, crying during sex, mentions of flushed cheeks, friends to lovers, misunderstandings, lapslock.

a/n: this is arguably one of my absolute fave fics i've ever written. she is near and dear to my heart :') i've provided the link for ao3 if you prefer to read it there! it's originally posted in two parts but i've combined them here. any and all mistakes are mine. feedback is encouraged & appreciated ♡

“the boys are running late,” natasha informs you when you make your way to the table she’s conquered in the busy cafe. “sam texted a couple minutes ago and said he and bucky got stuck in traffic.”

it’s the second tuesday of the month, which means it’s brunch day. it’s a running tradition that’s stood for the four of you since your college days. the time and place has changed over the years, but everyone does their absolute best to attend every time. these tuesdays are your favorite, naturally.

you plop into an empty chair across from her with a heavy sigh. “good, that means i have time to bitch about how fucking horny i am before they get here.”

she snorts, taking a delicate sip of her latte. “what’s new?” she wonders sarcastically.

“you don’t understand,” you begin, leaning into the table, gripping the edge tightly. “it’s been months, and not like, a few, i mean it’s coming up on a year.”

natasha’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise. “a year? what about that guy you went on a few dates with a while back? didn’t anything happen with him?”

“no,” you grumble, sitting back in your chair and crossing your arms. you huff. “and even if something had happened, i doubt it would have been satisfying. i can probably count on one hand the amount of times sex has been even kinda pleasurable for me.”

“sounds like you’re picking shitty partners.”

you scowl. “i know that, but it’s not my fault. all these stupid men keep promising they’re gonna fuck me ten ways to sunday and not a single one of them can even get me to wednesday.”

natasha laughs. “you poor thing.”

“you’re really not helping me here,” you whine with a pitiful pout on your lips. “you are getting routine dickings, you have sam! i am not so lucky here.” you notice her attention flicks to somewhere behind you, but you’re not finished with your rant. “nat, i’m serious. all of my sex encounters are the equivalent of asking someone to scratch my back and then they scratch literally anywhere but the spot that itches. i want to be fucked so good that i cry, just—completely reduced to tears. is that too much to ask?”

nat is hiding her smile behind her hand, amusement painted across her sharp features. someone clears their throat behind you and you pinch the bridge of your nose. sam and bucky occupy the empty seats, sam next to natasha and bucky next to you. they’re both sporting wide grins, looking far too pleased about stumbling into this conversation.

sam opens his mouth, no doubt to make a smartass comment, but you cut him off before he can get a good inhale in.

“not a fucking word,” you grouse with a finger pointed in his direction.

he presses a hand to his chest, expression offended. “i would never make a joke about your truly tragic excuse of a sex life.”

bucky snickers quietly, but turns into a cough at your glare.

“i’ll murder you,” you promise.

“leave her alone, boys,” natasha says, rolling her eyes, though she’s visibly biting back her own laughter.

you huff, digging your wallet out of your purse. “i hate all of you,” you announce before getting up and going to stand in line to order.

bucky follows a moment later, coming to stand at your side and throwing an arm around your shoulders.

“that bad, huh?” he asks.

you don’t have to look at his face to know he’s probably smirking right now.

“fuck off,” you retort, not bothering to push his arm away since you know he’d only put it right back.

“aw, come on, don’t be like that,” he jests, “you know we just like to poke a little fun.”

you roll your eyes, throwing him an exasperated look. “yeah, but that was something only nat was supposed to hear. i hate talking about sex with you and sam because you two wouldn’t understand.”

“that’s not true,” bucky insists, which makes you roll your eyes again. “it’s not!”

“first of all, sam’s got natasha, so we both know they’re more than satisfied.” bucky tilts his head in acquiescence. “and you don’t have to worry about if you’re gonna have an orgasm when you hook up with somebody. men have it so easy.”

it’s probably not the best thing to talk about in line of a busy cafe (especially since you haven’t decided between a blueberry muffin or the ham and cheese croissant, and there’s only one person ahead of you now and you’d really rather not be discussing your lack of sex in front of an innocent barista) but it sort of feels good to get this off your chest, even if it’s to bucky.

“okay, definitely not true,” he replies with a frown. “i’m not always guaranteed an orgasm.”

you give him a skeptical glance. “i find that hard to believe.”

this time, it’s bucky who rolls his eyes. “whatever, whether or not i come when i have sex with someone isn’t what i was gonna talk about when i came over here.”

the person in front of you finishes their order and then you’re stepping up for your turn.

“hi, what can i get you today?” the young barista asks with a smile.

“a large mocha iced coffee with sweet cream and a blueberry muffin, please.” you pause, contemplating, then add, “and a ham and cheese croissant.”

if you can’t get fucked within an inch of your life then food will become your lover, you reason.

“just a black coffee for me, please,” bucky tells the girl, taking his wallet out of his back pocket and handing over his card to pay before you can stop him.

“i could’ve paid for mine,” you mumble.

“you also could just say thank you,” he replies with a short laugh as he ushers you to the side to wait for your order.

you pinch his hip, pouting. “thank you.”

“why does your gratitude come with violence?” he asks, rubbing the sore spot.

“you know how i am when people do nice things for me.”

“you should be used to it by now,” he points out.

“well, i’m not,” you huff. “anyway, what did you come over here to talk about then?”

bucky reaches up to scratch the back of his neck, uncharacteristically shy all the sudden. “uh, well. i dunno, i just thought… you know, since you’re not—i mean, not that you couldn’t be, just—you haven’t been, so maybe… fuck.”

“spit it out,” you say with a giggle, wondering what in the world’s got him so tongue-tied.

“why don’t you let me?” he blurts, averting his gaze immediately after.

you tilt your head in confusion. “let you what?”

he sighs heavily, working his jaw in frustration. “you know…” he begins, digging his thumbnail into a knick on the countertop in front of you. “let me fuck you until you cry.”

“what?”

just then, your order is called. bucky quickly grabs it and turns to make his way back to the table, but you grab his arm to stop him.

“i don’t think so, you come back here right now and explain yourself,” you demand.

his eyes lift heavenward. “it’s just an idea, okay?”

“bucky, you’re talking about crossing a huge line. you can’t just throw that out all willy nilly!”

“i know,” he replies earnestly. “and it’s not—“ he grimaces at the phrasing, “willy nilly. you’re one of my best friends. i wouldn’t jeopardize that for anything, and i wouldn’t offer this if i thought that it could. this is something that’s obviously affecting you negatively in your life and i’m willing to help. i trust you, and i’m pretty sure you trust me, yeah?”

“of course i trust you,” you say, frowning.

he shrugs. “so, then it’s just… a friend helping another friend.”

“you make it sound so simple,” you muse in wonder.

“think about it?” he implores.

you swallow roughly, biting the inside of your cheek. “fine. i’ll think about it.”

he nods and walks back over to the table where sam and natasha are waiting. you hesitate for only a split second before following.

needless to say, you’re distracted for the rest of brunch.

***

you: what even makes you think you could fuck me until i cry anyway?

it’s been nearly a week, and as much as you hate to admit it, you’re actually considering taking bucky’s offer. it’s all you can think about since he brought it up. you can’t lie, you’ve always thought bucky was attractive, but ever since you were gently but firmly placed in the friend category back in university, you never allowed yourself to think of there ever being more between the two of you. he’s a wonderful friend to have and you’d have been an idiot to pass it up. bucky is kind and generous and just enough of an asshole to keep things interesting without it being a problem.

but this… this has left you reeling. why would he make such an offer after only ever keeping things strictly friendly and platonic in your relationship? and more importantly, where does he get the confidence to think he could follow through?

bucky: experience?

you make a face at your phone, furiously typing your reply.

you: ew. do you realize how douchey that sounds?

bucky: well, it’s not douchey if it’s true.

you: says you

bucky: and a few other people :)

bucky: you’d know it too if you’d let me fuck you

you exhale harshly through your nose, tapping your foot on the floor anxiously, carefully thinking of what you should say next.

you: it’s apparently a tall request, and thus far, nobody’s been able to deliver. you can understand my skepticism…

bucky: if i don’t leave you shivering and twitching with aftershocks of pleasure, in a mess of sweat and come, and tears stained on your cheeks, then i will have failed you.

your thighs squeeze together at the mental image that brings you. jesus christ, if he’s half as good at fucking as he is dirty talking then he just might do as he’s promising.

bucky: so? what do you say? wanna give it a try?

biting your lip, you give yourself a moment to weigh the pros and cons in your mind one last time.

it doesn’t take you very long to make your decision.

you: okay. we’ll try.

***

it’s a slightly overcast sunday when bucky comes over with the direct intention to fuck you. it should be weird, but strangely, all you feel is anticipation. maybe it’s because you know him so well and know that, no matter what, he’d take care of you.

(or, maybe it’s because those repressed college-aged feelings are doing their best to resurface, even though you steadfastly continue to ignore them.)

you’d taken a thorough shower earlier to ease the little bit of nerves you had when you’d woken up. cleaning up the small mess your apartment gathered over the last couple weeks helped, as well, and soon you found yourself standing in front of your lingerie drawer with your lips pursed.

you weren’t sure if you should even bother with it, but it felt you wouldn’t be putting in any effort into this encounter if you didn’t at least pick out nice underwear. so, with a pleased nod, you settle on some simple black lace panties and a matching bralette. not too much, but enough to satisfy yourself, and hopefully bucky. you pick out a simple sundress to put on over it, since you won’t be wearing much of anything once bucky gets here. that thought has you flushing, but you ignore it to put on some makeup, just to freshen up your face.

by the time he knocks on your door, you’ve already finished a glass of wine and are pouring yourself a second.

he smiles when open the door, a bit boyishly, greeting you with a quiet, “hi.”

“hi,” you return, just as soft. you open the door wider. “come in.”

he walks passed you, stopping to toe his shoes off and hang his jacket on one of the hooks.

“do you want a glass of wine?” you ask as you head to the kitchen to retrieve your own from the counter.

bucky follows, stopping in the entryway with his hands in his pockets. “no, thank you.”

you nod, taking a sip from your glass, trying to figure out what to say. the air feels a little awkward and you’re not sure how to fix it.

“nervous?” he wonders curiously.

you shake your head. “not really.”

he quirks a brow. “then what’s wrong?”

“i don’t know,” you murmur. “i guess i’m just worried we’re making a mistake.”

he hums. you take a larger sip of your wine.

with cautious steps, he comes closer to you. “what if i promise that things won’t be weird after?”

“you can’t really promise that, though.”

“sure i can,” he says, smiling. “it’s me and you. we’ve been friends for so long. plenty of people have sex and stay friends after.”

you’re not just ‘people’ to me, you think.

you sigh, frustrated with yourself. you can’t deny how badly you want this. it’s all you’ve been able to think about since that day in the cafe. but the thought of losing bucky is heartbreaking, and you don’t want your stupid horniness to be the reason that you ruin a friendship, even if he was the one to offer sex.

“why don’t we go make out on the couch for a little while first?” he suggests after a moment’s pause.

you snort, in spite of your thoughts. “like a couple of teenagers?”

his eyes crinkle on the sides when he grins. “yeah. we’ll just see how we feel about that, and if it leads to more, then…” he trails off, shrugging.

“that’s not a bad idea,” you concede.

“great! finish your wine.”

you laugh and do as you’re told, downing the little remaining wine in one go, sitting the glass down on the counter resolutely as you swallow.

“let’s do this,” you say, determined.

bucky huffs a laugh, grabbing your wrist and tugging you behind him as he makes his way to the couch. he settles slightly facing you as you tuck your legs under you beside him.

“do you wanna talk, or do you want to jump straight into it?”

“if we talk anymore i’m gonna change my mind. just kiss me already, bucky.”

“yes ma’am,” he sasses before doing exactly that.

he cups your cheek with one hand as the other is placed on your knee. he guides your face to his and kisses you chastely. you’re not sure where to put your hands at first, but you tell yourself to quit being a goober about it and place them on either side of his neck, your thumbs brushing under his jaw.

it’s an okay kiss, you have to admit, but it’s not really doing anything for you yet. he has soft lips, softer than you thought they’d be. you’re beginning to wonder if maybe this confirms you shouldn’t go any further when he tilts his head, and… hm.

he parts his lips, taking your bottom one between his, kissing it, then nipping it. you wouldn’t say the sound you make is a gasp, necessarily, but it’s close. his tongue lightly caresses the seam of your mouth and you don’t even think before you open up for him, letting his tongue sweep in, flicking against yours. you hum, scooting a tiny bit closer to him, chasing the feeling. his kisses turn insistent then, teeth biting at your bottom lip and tugging, soothing the ache with his tongue. he kisses you like a man quenching his thirst, like you’re the best goddamn thing he’s ever tasted, and it’s leaving you dizzy. you sway more into his space and he pulls away from your mouth.

“c’mere,” he whispers, gripping behind one of your knees to drag it over his hips so you’re straddling him. “much better.”

you don’t have a chance to process anything about the moment, his mouth back on yours in a blink. your fingers wind themselves into his hair, getting a good grip on it as you lick into his mouth. he lets out a soft noise at that and you try your damnedest to pry it out of him again, pressing your chest to his so there’s not even a sliver of space left between you.

his hands travel, down the sides of your torso to your thighs, back up to your hips where he holds on tight. it doesn’t take long after that before you find yourself grinding into him. you both moan at the same time, breaking the kiss to pant for breath.

you swallow roughly. “okay,” you murmur, “i think it’s safe to say this could work.”

bucky laughs quietly. “yeah? wanna move to your bed then?”

your squeeze your thighs around him, shifting minutely on his lap and feeling the beginnings of his erection beneath you. “yes,” you breathe.

quickly, you rise from your position and step back, allowing bucky to stand, then grab his hand and lead him to your bedroom. once you’re standing beside your bed, you turn to face him. he meets your halfway, pulling you into another, filthier kiss. you reach for his belt buckle, unfastening it and sliding it through the loops, tossing it to your floor. next are the button and zip of his jeans, shoved down his legs until he steps out of them and kicks them and his socks aside. he obediently lifts his arms when you slide your hands under his shirt and begin pushing it up, breaking the kiss to nearly yank it off, making bucky huff in amusement. once it’s tossed with the rest of his clothes, bucky grabs fistfuls of your dress and pulls you into him.

“my turn,” he says against your lips.

carefully, bucky helps you out of your dress, eyes raking over every bit of new skin shown to him. he bites his lip when he sees your lacy underthings.

“you got all dolled up for me?” he asks.

shifting under his stare, you nod. “wanted to look nice,” you admit.

he hums. “beautiful.”

he kisses you again, a little softer than before, but no less passionate. the urgency returns as he backs you up until your thighs hit the mattress. gently, he guides you onto your back, never breaking the kiss as he follows you down and settles over you.

you soon find yourself in need of air and pull away with a gasp. bucky is undeterred and instead presses his kisses down your jaw, to your neck where he decides to bite and suck until he’s left a mark you’ll have to reprimand him for later. he licks his way up to your ear, sucking the lobe into his mouth, drawing a whine out of you.

“bucky,” you whisper, hands gripping his sides as you squirm below him.

“hm?”

you close your eyes tightly when he makes his way back down to your collarbones.

“please,” you whimper.

“please what, sweetheart?” he asks, pushing himself up to look you in the eye.

“t-touch me,” you beg, cheeks flushing.

his lips quirk into a smile. “i am touching you.”

“bucky,” you whine.

“where do you want me to touch you, hm?” he wonders. one of his hands trails across your shoulder and down the center of your chest. “here? or… here?”

when his fingers glide, barely there, over your pebbled nipples, you push into the touch eagerly.

“or…” he continues, his feather light touch making a path down your stomach. your breath quickens in anticipation. “here?” he murmurs as his fingertips stop on your pantyline.

“yes, there, anywhere,” you agree hastily, “just —please. please, bucky, don’t tease me.”

he kisses you again, deep, full of promise. “you beg so prettily for me.”

he rearranges your positions until he’s between your spread thighs, sweeping his hands across the inside of them. he nods to your panties.

“may i?”

“yes, please,” you reply, lifting your hips to help him take them off.

he doesn’t give you a chance to close your legs in shyness, firmly grasping your knees in each of his hands and spreading them once again. the way he’s looking at you makes you feel unbelievably desirable, has excitement crawling up your spine.

“don’t forget,” you remind him, making his eyes flick up to yours in question, “you better make me cry.”

a slow, dangerous smile graces his lips. your stomach swoops eagerly.

a whine, high pitched and drawn out, escapes your lips. after you unwittingly challenged him, bucky took it upon himself to torture you—with sex. so far, he’s only used his fingers on you, in you, thrusting them steadily but never enough to bring you to climax. he’s taking his time and being a smug prick about it. you go to complain, again, hoping if you beg enough he’ll let you come, but before you can do more than open your mouth he’s quickening his pace.

“oh!” you gasp, clutching the sheets in your hands.

bucky slides his hand down your thigh, bringing his thumb inward to swipe around where his other fingers are buried inside you to gather your wetness and using it to rub circles on your clit. your back arches, head thrown back against your pillows as you feel your orgasm build. it’s not tears, but damn, it feels good enough.

just as you start to clench around his fingers, legs spasming, he stops.

your eyes open in a hurry, brows furrowing in confusion. “no, please, don’t stop,” you plead.

bucky smiles. “i gotta get the right build up.”

you groan in frustration. he laughs quietly and lets the inferno burning within you simmer down to embers, then starts inching his way down until he’s lying on his stomach, mouth poised above your pussy. the feel of his warm breath makes you shiver, and with no warning whatsoever, he leans in and sucks your clit into his mouth.

“fuckin’—oh my— bucky!”

you’re pretty sure you black out for the next several minutes, the only thing you’re aware of is the thudding of your heartbeat in your ears and the feel of bucky’s mouth on you. you’re lost in a mindless haze of pleasure, unable to think or feel anything else. you feel your orgasm cresting for the second time, and just as before, bucky pulls away before you can succumb to it.

“why,” you hiccup on a moan, wanting nothing more than to just come already, but he’s not letting you.

he shushes you, softly kisses your knee. sitting up to take his underwear off, bucky keeps his eyes on you, expression hungry.

“gonna take care of you, sweetheart,” he promises. “just a bit more. you’re being so good for me, yeah?”

“please,” you whimper, feeling completely pathetic.

he makes quick work of putting a condom on and then settles between your thighs. you sigh in relief when he wastes no time and pushes in, being careful not to go too fast. once he’s fully inside you, he pauses, wanting to give you time to adjust, but you’re back to whining.

“bucky, please, please just—fuck me,” you beg, squirming beneath him.

he takes mercy on you, finally, and sets a hard pace. your hands fly up to push against the headboard, moaning and gasping from his harsh thrusts, loving the stretch of him inside you. his thumb is back on your clit and you cry out, clenching hard around him, but his thrusts don’t falter. all too soon, you can feel yourself getting close. you hear your own voice chanting please, please, please, mixed in with bucky’s grunts and the sound of him fucking you.

you whimper, eyes squeezed shut as your climax hits the point of no return, crashing over you in waves. you think you might scream, but it’s hard to pay attention to anything other than the overwhelming pleasure coursing through you. part of you thinks this’ll be it, bucky will come now and then you’ll have had one of the best orgasms of your life and he’ll be on his merry way home. but no, that’s not what happens.

instead, bucky keeps thrusting relentlessly into you, dragging out your pleasure to the point of oversensitivity.

“s’too much,” you breathe, gasping for air.

bucky shakes his head, face contorted in concentration. “one more,” he tells you, voice gruff and deep.

unbelievably, you feel tears beginning to gather in the corners of your eyes. bucky’s still rubbing your clit, still keeping a steady rhythm of his hips, and fuck, he’s so beautiful. you watch him fucking you, wondering how the fuck you got to this moment, how you got lucky enough to bear witness to the sight of bucky fucking, let alone be the one he fucks. his body is ridiculous, looking like it’s carved from marble. you know how much strength it holds, as well, know that if he really wanted to, he could probably fuck you against a wall.

it’s with that thought, with the added bonus of the way bucky touches you, looks at you, like you’re something treasured and gorgeous, giving you such intense pleasure, that the tears threatening to spill over finally fall from your lashes.

bucky notices, because of course he does, and he thrusts into you just a little faster, a little harder, and your body seizes up and then you’re falling into another orgasm. it spreads through your veins, slow like honey, making sure this one settles deep into your bones. bucky groans as he, too, reaches climax, hips twitching into you in aftershocks until he stops moving altogether.

you both pant for breath, sweat gathered in every crevice on your bodies. you think you won’t be able to move for the rest of the weekend.

“need to pull out,” bucky says softly, breaking the moment.

you nod and he carefully pulls his hips back, grunting. you poorly suppress a whimper and close your legs, already hating the empty feeling.

“well,” he starts, plopping himself on his back next to you, “i think i deserve some kind of reward.”

when you turn to face him with an exasperated look, he’s got his arms crossed behind his head, a smug smile across his lips.

“how about i don’t kick you in the balls? how’s that for a reward?”

“i literally just did the impossible.”

“what, made me come twice? i can do that all on my own. you’re not special,” you retort with a huff.

he scoffs. “i fucked you so good you cried.”

“you can’t prove it,” you say to the ceiling.

“keep up this attitude and i won’t do it again,” he threatens, poking you in your side.

you wiggle away from the ticklish touch while trying to tamp down on the hope bubbling in your chest.

“oh, we’re doing this again, are we?” you say as casually as possible.

he rolls his eyes. “of course we are. now,” he sits up in your bed, stretching his arms as he stands and picks up his underwear, “i’m starving. wanna order takeout?”

well, you guess if you’d been worried about any kind of awkwardness before, you shouldn’t have. this is bucky, your best friend. he’d never let things change between you.

***

except, things kinda change between the two of you.

it’s not very noticeable at first, changes so subtle you miss them, until one day he showed up at your apartment and greeted you with a kiss. you stood frozen in your doorway as he rambled about how stressful his day had been as he kicked his shoes off. it was only when you heard him calling out from the kitchen that he was gonna eat your leftovers that you snapped out of it, yelling back that you’d kick his ass if he even touched your dumplings.

another day, he facetimes you and asks if you want to go to see that new movie you’ve been talking about.

“oh,” you’d said. “are nat and sam coming, too?”

he’d given you a funny look, replied, “no, i thought it would just be us two.”

“oh,” you said again. “okay.”

so you’d gone to the movies, let him buy you buttery popcorn and peanut m&m’s and a soda bigger than your head. he shared with you, despite your protests, and halfway through the film you felt his hand settle on your thigh. you blinked and stared at it for a beat, turning to him in question. he only smiled at you briefly before focusing back on the movie.

in between all of this, you continued calling him over for sex. honestly, how could you not? as much as you didn’t want to admit it to him, he was the best you’ve ever had. and if he’s so willing, why shouldn’t you take advantage while you can?

a week ago, though, you’d texted him and asked him to come over, replying to his question of what time and then started getting ready. you’d purchased a new piece of lingerie, a periwinkle babydoll nightie, that left very little to the imagination. it had a matching pair of panties and felt soft and luxurious on your skin. you’d taken extra time to do your hair and makeup, wanting to look like sex on legs, and you’re pretty sure you succeeded.

but when he got there and you answered the door in your sexy outfit, he didn’t see it right away. in one hand he held his phone, typing something on it, and in the other hand he held a grocery bag that you eyed curiously.

“i brought stuff to make spaghetti—“

when he did finally look up, his eyes widened and traveled the length of your body several times. you bit your lip, trying and failing to hold back your smile.

“how about we skip dinner?” you’d said, fisting his nice button-up shirt and dragging him inside your apartment. you grabbed the grocery bag from his hand and sat it on the floor, absently noting he was wearing his date jeans.

whoops, you’d thought, hope i didn’t pull him away from someone important.

you hadn’t let yourself dwell on it, standing up on your tippy toes and kissing him, wrapping your arms around his shoulders. he’d returned the kiss, licking into your mouth, drawing your tongue out so he could suck on it and made you moan embarrassingly loud.

“wait,” he’d murmured, “we should eat first.”

“or, you could eat me,” you’d retorted with a giggle.

he groaned like it pained him to say no, gripped your hips hard and put a tiny bit of distance between you. the look in his eyes had made you want to find the nearest flat surface and bend over.

“why don’t you be a good girl for me, hm? let me cook dinner for us and after we eat i’ll fuck you however you want me to. okay, sweetheart?”

you whined, but ultimately agreed, knowing he’d make it worth it.

and then there’s tonight, where he came over unannounced, armed with groceries again and promising to cook you the best meal you’ve ever had. to say you were confused would be an understatement, but you also didn’t want to look a gift horse in the mouth.

it’s just… well, bucky’s not really acting like a friend with benefits. sure, you hung out alone with him all the time before, but he never once cooked you dinner, and he certainly never helped wash dishes after. you guess the hello kisses could be explained away as part of the new aspect of your relationship, but something about that didn’t sit quite right with you.

after a truly delicious dinner, you find yourself on the couch with bucky as he scrolls through netflix to find a movie to put on.

“what do you want to watch?” he asks.

“mm,” you mumble, shifting closer to start kissing his neck, “don’t care.”

as he narrows down his decision and finally picks one, you make your way up to his jaw, sucking a small mark into the skin there.

“baby,” he protests softly, “let’s just watch the movie, yeah?”

you pull back, confused. first at the pet name, then at his words. he’s never denied you before, which isn’t to say that he can’t, it’s just that he’s always seemed on board. and, you know, you thought that was kind of the whole point of this thing.

“okay,” you reply after a moment.

he gives you a smile and a sweet kiss, wrapping an arm around you and pulling you into his side to cuddle. you can’t help but frown, feeling like you’re missing something, but not knowing what it could be.

it doesn’t take long for drowsiness to creep up on you. before he showed up, you had planned on probably ordering out for dinner and going to bed early since you’d had a pretty rough day. in fact, you remember texting bucky about it just that afternoon. your eyelids get heavier and heavier, finding it harder to keep them open as the seconds pass. your head droops and in the next blink, you’ve fallen asleep.

you’re not sure how much time has passed when bucky wakes you, but you groan, pouting and burrowing into his shoulder more.

he huffs a laugh. “c’mon, sweetheart, let’s get you to bed.”

“don’ wanna move,” you mumble tiredly.

“i’ll carry you,” he offers. “up you go, baby.”

you half heartedly argue about being jostled, but let him carry you to your bed where he carefully places you, helping you out of your sweatpants and pulling your blankets up around you. you sigh in content, feeling yourself already drifting back into sleep. you hear bucky shuffling, but think nothing of it until the bed dips beside you, then feel his warm body slide in underneath the covers and press in close.

“goodnight, darlin’,” he murmurs.

you’d ask him what in the word he’s doing, but sleep is just far too enticing to ignore. you fall into slumber with bucky’s warmth along your back, his arm draped over you.

the next morning, you wake to the feeling of his fingers playing with the tiny bow on the front of your panties and his lips placing gentle kisses on your shoulder. you hum, eyes still closed, in the back of your mind thinking this is a nice way to wake up. at the sound of you, his touches get firmer, more insistent.

“good morning,” he rasps, breath tickling your ear.

you don’t really get a chance to reply. he dips his fingers into your panties, making you inhale sharply, moaning as you buck into his hand. he fingers you for a while, kissing along the column of your throat, biting and sucking marks into the skin there. when you’re begging him for more, he relents, eases your panties off and lifts your leg to slide in from behind. the angle is so nice it has you gasping.

you clutch the sheets weakly, burying your face in your pillow and muffle your whines and moans. bucky keeps a slow, lazy rhythm, acting as if he’s got all the time in the world to draw this out. it’s good, so good, and you can’t hold back your whimper when he kicks up the pace a little, tells you to touch yourself. you come seconds before he does, shuddering through it and humming happily.

as you both lie there and catch your breath, awareness trickles into your mind. you swallow roughly, staring blankly at the wall as you realize your feelings have grown far too much for this to be only casual anymore.

bucky kisses your shoulder again. “i’m gonna go make breakfast, okay? i’ll call you when it’s ready.”

“okay,” you whisper, blinking rapidly to keep tears from forming.

hearing bucky bustle around your kitchen makes your heart clench with want; want for something you can’t have.

***

bucky: dinner tonight?

you bite the inside of your cheek as you stare at the text. you know you need to cut things off with him before you get anymore hurt than you already are. it’s not fair to either of you if you continue with this arrangement when you’ve caught real feelings for him. you have to tell him, and soon. with that thought in mind, you type out a reply.

you: sure. what time?

bucky: reservations are at 8pm, i’ll pick you up by 7:45.

reservations? where was he taking you? you get another text before you can ask.

bucky: dress nice ;)

with a sigh, you text back an affirmative and try to start mentally preparing yourself for the conversation you dreaded having. you could only hope and pray that he agrees to still be your friend after.

by the time there’s a knock on your door that night, you’ve worked yourself up into an anxious mess. you open the door to see bucky standing there with a single peach colored rose and a bashful grin.

“hi,” he greets, leaning in to kiss you on your cheek. “this is for you.”

he hands you the rose and you feel your heart crack in your chest. you muster a small smile.

“thank you. let me go put this in a vase and we can head out.”

he nods and waits patiently at the door. as you fill a vase with a little water, you take a deep breath, giving yourself a mental pep talk.

this was going to suck.

the drive to the restaurant doesn’t take too long, and when you see where he’s taken you, your eyebrows shoot up. this is one of the nicer places in the city, definitely not on the affordable side. he helps you out of the car, leading you inside with his hand on the small of your back. you’re led to a small booth in a far corner with overhead lighting that feels too intimate. maybe you’d have to wait until you left to tell him…

conversation is light, a bit surface level, and you get the feeling that bucky is a little nervous. you wonder if maybe he’s gonna let you down gently first, hoping that he doesn’t, because you’d rather not cry in such a fancy restaurant.

after the waiter takes your drink orders, bucky sighs.

“okay, let me just… get this off my chest.”

oh fuck, here it goes.

“i know i’ve never really come across at the most romantic guy, especially since i’ve never felt the need to be.” he runs a nervous hand through his hair. “you’ve always been so important to me, and this last month has been so, so wonderful.”

“bucky…” you trail off, attempting to somehow stop him, but he powers through.

“i just—i never thought i’d find somebody, you know?” he says, earnest, gaze locked on yours. another crack in your heart. “especially not somebody who was my friend first, that i already had a solid foundation with. the attraction had always been there, but the friendship meant more to me, and finally allowing that to blossom into this amazing, new, fun relationship has got to be the best decision i’ve ever made.”

did he start dating someone and not tell you? oh god, has he been sleeping with someone else? at the same time? your stomach turns, eyes burning, hating yourself more and more as he speaks.

“so, i guess what i’m trying to say is,” he says, rolling his eyes at himself and smiling, “happy one month anniversary, sweetheart.”

you blink, feeling a tear slip down your cheek. “what?” you croak, beyond confused.

bucky, however, looks concerned. “baby, why are you crying?”

“i…” you blink some more, eyes flitting around the room as if you’ll get some kind of clarity that way to the situation currently happening. “what?” you repeat.

“did i come on too strong?” he asks, looking embarrassed now. “i wasn’t sure if you’d even want to celebrate, but i’ve just been so happy with you—i’m sorry, baby, i should’ve asked.”

“bucky, what are you talking about?” you finally manage, unable to keep the bewilderment out of your tone. “anniversary?”

bucky frowns. “i didn’t get the date wrong, did i?”

“no, i—this isn’t—i’m not talking about—ugh, i mean, when did we even start having an anniversary to celebrate?”

bucky’s face goes blank, sitting back in his chair. your heart is pounding wildly in your chest, so fucking confused, so fucking hopeful.

“we… we’re dating,” he says, slow, unsure. “aren’t we?”

��since when?” you ask probably too loudly, cheeks flushing.

he opens and closes his mouth a couple times. “when i asked you out?”

“bucky, oh my god, you’re gonna have to be more specific before i lose my goddamn mind. when did you ask me out?”

he huffs, his own cheeks flushing. “at the cafe! a month ago, at brunch with natasha and sam.”

your eyes widen in disbelief. “when you asked if you could fuck me until i cried?” you hiss, ignoring the scandalized look on the waiter’s face as he brings your drinks over.

smiling apologetically, you thank him and wait until he’s gone before sending a glare bucky’s way.

“that’s not how you ask a person out,” you seethe.

“i asked if you wanted to give this a try and you said yes!” he replies desperately. “i’ve taken you on dates!”

you pinch the bridge of your nose, thinking of all the times you thought he was being too romantic, more-than-friends type of behavior. you’re a fucking idiot, but god, so was he.

“at no point did you say anything even remotely close about us starting a relationship. i thought we were just fucking, bucky, i didn’t realize it was more than that!”

“you don’t—“ he starts, then stops, looking down at the plate in front of him. “you don’t want to be with me?”

“i didn’t know it was an option,” you say carefully.

“well, it is.” he meets your gaze, cautious. “i just spilled my guts to you. you know how i feel now. how do you feel? about me?”

you lick your lips. “bucky, i… i was planning to end things with you tonight.” his expression drops, even though he tries to mask it, so you’re quick to explain. “not because i don’t like you, but because i do like you and i thought you wouldn’t want anything more than just sex with me.”

“it’s never been and never could have been just sex with you,” he replies, quiet and relieved. he reaches across the table to take your hand in his. “i meant it when i said you’re the best decision i’ve ever made. i want this—the sex, the dinners, dates, all the gross and sappy shit i never wanted before… i want it all with you, if you’ll have me.”

you can’t fight the smile spreading across your lips. “of course i’ll have you, bucky.”

he smiles in return, a laugh bubbling out of him, which makes you giggle, until you’re both laughing so hard and loud that patrons from other tables are sending dirty looks your way, which only makes you laugh more.

“do you wanna get out of here?” you ask, laughter dying down. “there’s pizza and sex calling our names, i think.”

bucky moans dramatically. “i knew i liked you for a reason.”

he leaves money on the table and then the two of you quickly make your way through the restaurant, giggling and holding hands the whole way, even in the car.

#avengers fic #marvel fic #bucky barnes #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you

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ohbueckers · 13 days ago

Text

HEART OF A WOMAN. i put the blame on me for giving you chance after chance … it’s my mind and my soul versus your pride.

00, PROLOGUE. AND THIS IS JUST THE INTRO.

ju speaks. finished this quicker than expected so thank you to that anon for getting me on it early LOL. find the masterlist link to all parts on my blog. lmk your thoughts! pairing. wnba!paige bueckers x fem!oc. warnings. language, angst, toxicity, cheating, etc … general warning!

flashback, april, 2025.

paige: i love you 3:49am

nailea: ?

i love you too

is everything good?

read 4:02am

paige: yeah i’m good baby

missing you ao baD

paige edited a message: missing you

nailea: i’ll see you so soon

i’m sorry i couldn’t make it today

i’m really proud of you

read 4:09am

you’d think by now i’d be numb to it. that i’d learned the script—memorized the lines, the rhythm of it. but as i sit here, scrolling through her saved chats with her, i don’t feel numb. i feel fucking dumb.

it’s not even the months i spent doubting her, the nights i’d start an argument because i just knew she was lying, only for her to stare at me with those wide, innocent eyes and make me feel like the problem. no. it’s knowing that three nights ago, when she texted me after the game, telling me she loved me, that she missed me—that wasn’t real. that was just her guilt talking, a cheap cover-up. because that night, after winning her precious championship, paige found someone else to help her celebrate. and all because i couldn’t be there.

i don’t even have it in me to appreciate the short time she wasn’t doing anything behind my back. we’d had a conversation, a serious one, and it was enough for a bit. but there’s pictures, videos, a few from that night, and i feel sick.

the door opens behind me, and i barely flinch.

“yo, i forgot my—“ my bloodshot eyes meet hers, still holding onto the faintest trace of a smile. she has to notice i’ve been crying. has to see what she’s done.

it’s only been ten minutes. the breakfast spot’s close, maybe two blocks. she must’ve turned around. guilt? instinct? doesn’t matter now.

“nai.”

i glance down at her open phone, and so does she. i can’t see her reaction, but i’m sure it’s anything but pleasant. “oh, i can’t even fucking look at you,” i spit, letting out a breathy laugh as i push myself to stand, heading towards the door.

before i can even take a step, she’s in full defense mode. paige tosses her keys onto the bed with a clatter, closing the door behind her, planting herself firmly in front of it like she’s ready to block my any attempt to walk out. “you’re not leavin,’ bro. hold on.” she furrows her eyebrows, mumbling more to herself as she pulls me away by my arm. quite effortlessly might i add, i couldn’t really fight it.

“move, paige,” i demand. i just want out. want to be anywhere she isn’t.

“nah, we’re gonna talk. sit your ass down.”

“about what?” i laugh, cold and bitter, as i wipe my face again. she’s stupid for thinking i’ll listen to anything she says now, i know that much. “about how you played in my face, yet again? how you kept telling me to trust you when i knew better? or maybe we’ll talk about how the second i wasn’t here, you went right back to her.”

she wasn’t special. she isn’t. i’m sure paige doesn’t even know her middle name. she was just… there. someone to sex her up the way i couldn’t from across the country. it wasn’t like we didn’t see each other every chance we had, but i’ll be damned to let her live a double life. i wish i wasn’t so in deep.

paige steps forward, her hand reaching for mine, eyes softening in some pathetic attempt at damage control. “look, it was one night, alright? it was a mistake, nai, you gotta chill.”

chill.

i yank my hand back. “how many times does one night happen with you, huh?” i squint. “because this isn’t just one mistake, paige. this is you, every time.” the word tastes sour, and i spit it right back at her.

i’m not a doormat. i’m not one of the girls paige bueckers happened to pick up on her way to the top. i was here from the very beginning, and i couldn’t fathom how that wasn’t enough for her. all you could ever want is to grow into love with someone, but paige and i only go backwards, and i don’t think i’m capable of sitting around and letting that happen anymore.

paige’s mouth twists, some shadow of remorse that’s barely visible as she shifts from foot to foot. her hair’s still tousled from last night, strands falling across her forehead, a disheveled mess that somehow makes her look both beautiful and utterly wrecked. it makes my stomach turn—how i’d been unknowingly in the same spot as another girl just a few days ago, her hands roaming through that same hair, leaving their mark where mine should have been.

“let me get it right this time then.” paige’s head tilts back slightly, her eyes locked onto mine with an intensity that’s almost hypnotic, like she’s daring me to believe her, to give her yet another chance. i hesitate, against all logic, caught up in her. for a second, the anger knots itself up, caught in my throat, tangled in the remnants of whatever feelings she hasn’t managed to destroy.

we just stand there, inches apart, eyes locked, her breath barely steady, mine coming in tight and shallow. her hand lifts again, just slightly, as if she’s about to reach for me again, and i feel that familiar pull—like i’m right on the edge of giving in, of letting her words undo the mess she’s made.

my eyes glance down at her phone in my hand, and i can’t help but think about how sick i am of fucking words.

before i can second-guess myself, my hand jerks forward, and i launch her phone across the room. it skids across the floor, clattering against the wall, and she turns at the sound, head lolling against the door.

paige’s hand slides down her face as she lets out a low, humorless chuckle, her shoulders slumping back. her gaze flicks from her phone again, undamaged but undeniably thrown by an angry girlfriend ex, and then back to me, all narrowed. “you throwin’ my shit now?”

“fetch it. matter fact…” paige’s mouth opens, then closes as she watches me rip her oversized tee off like it’s some dirty rag. the shirt hits her chest and slides down to the floor, and she just stands there, staring at it with her jaw clenched so tight i can practically hear her grinding her teeth. “you can take all your shit back with it. i’m done,” i seethe.

paige looks back up, scoffing. “oh, you’re done?”

i turn on my heel, making my way to my suitcase. paige doesn’t move as i fall to my knees, throwing one of my own shirts over my head. i’m packing my things up frantically, silently, and i can tell it makes her feel unsettled.

“you’re not leaving, nailea.” she doesn’t sound so sure of herself now, and that only makes me move quicker.

i sniffle, even though i’m way past being sad over this. “i’ll stay with az until i can catch a flight. and i’ll ship all your stuff to storrs once i’m back.” i’m declaring my plan out loud, though i’m sure the mounds of her belongings that’ve accumulated in my apartment over the years is the last thing on her mind.

but then she moves, steps around the suitcase, stopping me with a quiet urgency, her fingers reaching toward my face. i pull back instinctively, turning my head, but she follows, her hands slowly cupping my head, steadying me as if i’m the one slipping. “paige, stop.” i mutter, shrugging my shoulders, trying to shake her off. but her fingers tighten, her eyes softer, pleading.

“c’mon…” she whispers. and then, slowly, she sinks down to her knees, meeting me there, her eyes desperately searching mine.

i swallow, hard, stopping my movements. “quit—“

“lemme fix it.” she mumbles, the words laced with something i can’t decipher, something that might’ve been real if it didn’t come too late.

i look up, and for the first time, i see something that almost looks like panic in her eyes. her thumb is focused on tracing the tear streaks on my cheek, and i have to force myself to think about why they’re there in the first place. because of her.

i don’t give her a chance to say another word. “you should’ve thought about that before there was anything to fix,” i say softly.

i turn away, reaching to grip the zipper of my suitcase. the metallic sound rips through the quiet, and it’s the finality of it that makes it feel like the right choice, like i actually just let go.

but with paige, nothing ever stays that simple, that clean.

#paige bueckers #paige bueckers x oc #paige bueckers fanfiction #paige bueckers fic #paige bueckers uconn #paige bueckers smut #lgbtq fanfiction #lgbtqia #wlw fanfic #wlw blog #wlw smut #paige bueckers x female oc #paige bueckers x fem #uconn wbb #paige bueckers blog #wlw fiction

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suguru-getos · 3 months ago

Text

Kid Gojo goes to Kid!Fem-Reader's House

This is a part II to a drabble I wrote, Part I.

Satoru's footsteps matched hers, trailing towards an unknown path leading to a normal-looking house. It was beautiful though, bright colours, gardens had flower beds of roses, tulips, a ceramic pot with fresh water for the birds. Homely, the house looked and felt what the Gojo estate never did. For a ten year old, who wasn't accustomed to this new found feeling, Satoru didn't know what to say, how to react. He hums, "small, your house is small." kicking a piece of gravel from the pavement.

She was on her tippy-toes, reaching for the door-bell and ringing it. "Mean." She pouted, looking at Satoru with a disgusted face. Like he has shit his pants and she can smell it kind of disgusted.

"What is that face?" He fumbles, taken aback, eyes siren in offense. She shrugged, sticking her tongue out, "I make this face at meanie poopy people." She crossed her arms, always works. No matter who it is.

The faint echoes of footsteps carry from farther away in the kitchen to the hallway, becoming clearer as the door opens. "Oh hello Y/N! Welcome home sweetheart!" Her mother beams, bright and joyful. Her eyes scan the little kid next to her, from his clothes he definitely did not look homeless. Beautiful, all-knowing, almost frightening eyes. "Oh? You made a new friend?" Her mother inquires, looking at Satoru. Now, Satoru Gojo was used to people bending backwards for him, this bland reaction was refreshing.

"My name is Satoru Gojo." He hums, "She dragged me here." He scoffs. Of course not, but the heir of the Gojo clan can't look eager for some cookies?

"She did? Oh my" Her mother gasped a little, knowing the kid was just behaving of his age. "I just wanted him to taste your cookies mama, he protected my favourite water bottle tumbler from the poopie kids!" She grins, walking inside. For a moment, Satoru looks hesitant. What is he even doing, he has roles and responsibilities. Cookie-tasting is definitely not one of them. He can have cookies from any part of the world, Paris? Even London's bakeries- why even-

His trance is broken the moment his wrist is grabbed by her, cheerful eyes beaming and dragging him inside. The moment Satoru's footsteps get inside, and the delicious scent of cookie dough fills his nostrils, he decides to stay. Cookies are important. He could get cookies from anywhere but these are the best ones, yes. The girl herself, said so.

"Come sit," Her mother coos, "Satoru kun, Y/N." She hums, getting them both a chair in the dining table.

Satoru's eyes linger around, the house is cute, not too vast. The distance between him and Y/N is also minimal, because the dining table is not so big. It's perfect actually. He grins, he feels happy, the spacing makes him feel included.

"So? What is your job?" Satoru asked, crossing his arms, looking at the girl.

"My job? I dunno- mama's daughter? Though when I play Police with my friends I am never the thief!" She grins. Satoru is… jealous. Satoru is… enamoured.

"No like, okay leave it- what is your dream?" He asks again, surely there can be some similarity where he can link his life to hers.

"I am gonna be an Astronaut!" She grins wide, "Gonna see the pretty moon, the pretty stars!"

Satoru Gojo pouts, he's ten, and his birth shackled him to one role. He wants to be a sorcerer because he doesn't know any other thing. He thought being a sorcerer was his decision, training was his decision. An eerie bewilderment presses his soul, hollowing it like a cavity. Why couldn't he think about becoming someone like an Astronaut?

"When you come here next time- we should play together." Y/N hums, feet shaking in boredom.

Next time… why would there be a next time? Her mother comes in the room, freshly baked cookies with a glass of milk, a slice of the cake she just made.

"Oh drooling!" Y/N whines, watching her mom place them on the table.

Satoru acts, sophisticated, there is no way some cookies would make him say that, he's not a dog! But they smell so good- NO WAY!

Y/N quickly takes the first bite, happy shakes and wiggles follow with whines. "Oh my god mama this is the best!" Satoru looks flustered, hesitantly taking a bite as well. The flavours melt in his mouth, it was perfect. Wow… "This is good." He announces, watching her mother grin and leave the two alone. He gets headpats, Y/N gets headpats. Satoru doesn't get headpats, the flustered expression on his face is evidence enough.

"Y-you were saying?" He asked, taking another bite.

"Oh yeah! I was saying, when you c'mere next time, we should play House." "House?" What is that game?

"Like, house? Or we could play Police too…" She grins, so excited, so thoughtless.

"I don't play kid's games. I am ten years old." Satoru scoffed.

"Aw- okay." She looked down, taking another bite, interest and excitement killed. Satoru's eyes glare at her, stop doing that! "Maybe just once." Satoru Gojo was kind, he knew he was… just didn't want to show it to others especially in a scathing world like the Jujutsu community where he is worshipped. "Okay! Let's play House then!" She grins, perking right back up.

Ten year old Satoru Gojo had already promised a second meet to play House. Is this how you make friends, he wonders…

#kid gojo drabble series #gojo satoru #gojo x reader #gojo fluff #jjk fluff #jjk x reader #jjk x you #gojo x you #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jujutsu kaisen comfort #jjk x y/n #gojo x y/n #gojo satoru x y/n #jujutsu kaisen imagines #jjk imagines #gojo imagines #gojo satoru imagines

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romanscoming · 11 months ago

Note

Love your stranger things work!! 🤤😍

PLEASE MAKE A MARVEL OR SPIDERMAN TWT LINKS PLZ 🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻

MERRY CHRISTMAS 2 YOU ALL <3 !

MARVEL - PORN LINKS !

VOL. 1 - [ MALE ~ !PART1 ]

NEW TAGLIST | REQUEST | WATTPAD

SEND REQUESTS &MAKE SURE TO DO THE TAGLIST !!

INCLUDES: Thor Odinson, Peter Parker { TOM & ANDREW }, Steve Rogers `Captain America, Tony Stark `Iron Man, Dr. Stephen Strange, Loki Laufeyson, Eddie Brock/Vemon, Bucky Barnes, Bruce Banner/Hulk (MORE IF REQUESTED)

WARNING: these are links that contain porn, sexual activities.. so be aware.

——

↣ THOR ODINSON

THOR feels like heaven when u ride him .

THOR loves it when you worship him to beyonce <3 !

THOR pounds inside of u in the closet next to the meeting room .

THOR like some wild shii, and ur just here for it .

↣ PETER PARKER

PETER always wanted to eat you out, and you finally let him .

PETER1 & PETER2 both came too help u release some stress .

PETER doesn't like u teasing him at school, so he fucks u at home.. long and hard

PETER failed his mission, and needs you .

↣ STEVE ROGERS

STEVE loves it when you use him as your person dildo .

STEVE loves ur special halloween costume he even fucks u in it .

STEVE is madly in love with your tight little pussy, he wants to cum inside u and fill u all the way up all the time .

STEVE can fuck you all night long, he doesn't care.. he js needs you wants u and has to feel ur insides, he wants your legs shaking and everything inside of u.

↣ TONY STARK

TONY will fuck you anywhere in the avengers hq, he doesn't give a fuck .

TONY will never let u bath in peace, u have to be full of his cock .

TONY special bday present, he's been dying for this .

TONY breeds you full, not letting a single one of his kids fall out of ur prefect pussy hole .

↣ DR. STEPHEN STRANGE

DR. STRANGE find u in the kitchen and place u on to his dick .

DR. STRANGE loves the feeling of their cum spill inside of u .

DR. STRANGE wants u to jerk him off and keep eye contact .

DR. STRANGE can't keep his hands off of u when ur riding him sooo good .

↣ EDDIE BROCK / VEMON

EDDIE is a real softy when your on top of him .

EDDIE randomly pops in at your apartment and fucks u brainless standing up .

EDDIE & VEMON always take care of u, ur their little baby and fuck toy .

EDDIE/VEMON has u bouncing babbling and more on his dick .

↣ LOKI LAUFEYSON

LOKI has been mad all day, & what's better than release all his anger out on u ?

LOKI always wants it raw, as soon as u wait up, as soon as your home.. anywhere.

LOKI thinks he should start punishing you more after this .

LOKI has to fill u up with his cum before leaving on a mission .

↣ BUCKY BARNES

BUCKY has attachment issue.. he has to show u that he loves u and he has to be close by u, he has to b deep inside u .

BUCKY does not play with it comes to creampies and backshots .

BUCKY doesn't think u can handle him, so u show him u can .

BUCKY will never stop breeding u, ur gonna b his little momma someday .

↣ BRUCE BANNER / HULK

BRUCE always lets u take control, because your is prefect girl ^^ .

HULKS dick straight in ur cunt, over and over and over .

BRUCE wants u bouncing on his dick while natasha watches and help .

BRUCE gets a promotion and wants u to make u happy .

| SORRY FOR NOT POSTING, I'VE BEEN REALLY BUSY BUT IM HERE NOW, AND ILL B FEEDIN U PUMPKINS <3.

~ BE PREPARED FOR A LOT OF P LINKS BECAUASE I HAVE A COMPLE OF REQUESTS FOR THEM, AND FEEL FREE TO REQUEST ONE OF ANY FANDOM !!

` ILL START THE TAGLIST SOON IT JS MAKES ME NERVOUS FOR SOME REASON !

IF ANY MISTAKES OR ERRORS PLEASE LET ME KNOW !

©️ trustynjaay

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edenfenixblogs · 10 months ago

Text

Oh wow. This is really antisemitic, @iblewrichardspeck

You are deeply antisemitic person.

And guess what? Having a Jewish grandfather doesn’t change that.

Your knowledge of Jewish history and culture is nonexistent to the point that I won’t even bother to confront most of it.

I encourage my allies to step in and address your nonsense with reason and links to credible sources.

Two huge standout points of your lack of knowledge that I want to point out though:

Most Jews in Israel are NOT in fact European or Ashkenazi. Do literally one Google search.

“Jews have always had a right to safety in their homeland.” I want you to know that I am pretty well regarded as a person who keeps their cool in situations like this. So I want to be explicit that my ability to stay calm right now is an act of superhuman will. I want to scream at you and cry because of the amount of death and pain you are erasing with this outright, easily disproven lie. Jews do not and have not ever had safety in their homeland of ISRAEL. Nor have Jews ever had safety in any of the locations where we have made a home. Judaism and jewish life has never “thrived” anywhere, at least not for the last 2000+ years. We have always been a target of attack and displacement and genocide. Always. Without exception. The idea that Israel somehow took all the Jews of the Middle East away from their homes where they were peacefully chilling out is nonsense. The middle eastern (who are the majority btw) Jews in Israel came to Israel after being expelled from their nations of origin or murdered for refusing to leave. Poland? Yeah. It had a swell Jewish community about 1200 years ago. It’s a shame about the centuries of ghettoization and you know that pesky genocide you might have heard about. Ethiopia? You mean the place where Jews had to be smuggled out of by Israeli covert forces because of the danger they were in there?

I don’t know if I believe that your grandfather was Jewish. Maybe he was. Maybe you made him up to legitimize your own antisemitic views.

But if he was really Jewish, I’m sure he’s wildly disappointed in you.

I won’t be blocking you because I want you to see this and change your views in a deeply fundamental way. And I want you to apologize. I’m 99.99999999% sure you won’t. You’re too steeped in your hatred. But who knows. People can change. I hope you do. Because right now, your attitude, beliefs, and behavior are rancid. I will not be responding to further messages from you.

Allies or fellow Jews with bandwidth can take it from here. Adios. Shalom.

#antisemites to remember #leftist antisemitism #historical revisionism #erasure of Jewish suffering

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noisilyscreechingsong · 5 months ago

Text

Tim and Danny are half-siblings

Champagne glasses shine in the light like jewelry on people’s wrists and necks and cuff links and literally anywhere else someone can fit. Honestly it’s giving Tim a headache.

Thankfully he wasn’t the only one suffering at this pointless gala. Not that the fundraiser for homeless kids in the city is pointless, but did they really need to throw an expensive party?

“You okay, Timmy? You’ve sighed like four times now,” Dick comments on the comms they all have in.

“Yea, I just-“

“Mr. Drake! How nice it is to see you again. Have you met my son, Daniel?”

Tim turns to find Vlad Masters, CEO of dalvco, dragging along a teen who looked like he would rather be anywhere else but here. The boy, Daniel, glares at the hand holding him by the arm.

“It’s Danny,” like it was the hundredth time saying the phrase.

Masters pretends he doesn’t hear it.

Tim is already working on how to get out of this conversation. He’s dealt with too many parents pushing their kids in his direction tonight.

He throws on a smile anyway and holds out his hand for a shake.

“Tim Drake-Wayne, nice to meet you, Danny.”

Danny hesitates for a second and it results in a tightening of the jaw and subtle glance to where he was glaring before as if Masters just tightened his grip on the teen. Tim says nothing about the awkward pause.

Danny shifts his weight to subtly step on Masters polish shoes, drawing the attention of the man and allowing Danny to slip a piece of paper into the handshake. Tim raises his eyebrows for Danny to see before falling back to pleasant neutral. He tucks the note into his pocket casually.

“Same.”

Tim’s smile becomes a bit more genuine at the teenage behavior.

“Now then,” Masters jumps in after getting himself situated, “I had been meaning to make an appointment with you, but every time I call you are always busy.”

Tim knew this was coming.

“I’m not receiving any calls about the Drake name, Mr. Masters, as you are well aware.”

“You would think that as a young businessman you would look to someone with more experience.”

He really wasn’t being subtle at all, was he?

“I wonder how Bruce would react if he heard you,” Tim warns even though he knows full well Bruce can actively hear the conversation. He turns to Danny while Masters is recovering from that reminder. “Our newest adoptee is about your age. Duke Thomas. He should be around here somewhere if you want to exchange numbers.”

Danny opens his mouth to reply, but is cut off. Masters’ hand goes from clenching the teen’s arm to squeezing his shoulder in what appears to be a warning.

“Oh no, I forgot to mention, Daniel’s entire family and his friends, along with an unfortunate teacher, all died recently in a terrible accident. I was given custody of the poor boy, of course. He’s like the son I never had. Anyway, we wouldn’t want to upset him by replacing what he recently lost, would we? He needs his space to grieve.”

The condescension with the insensitive wording left Tim speechless for a moment, and with the silence over the comms so were everyone else listening.

Tim finds Danny glaring down at the floor with clenched fists. The teen rips himself away from Masters, and when the man tries to chastise him, he turns and stares the man down with such a hateful expression that Tim had to keep from tensing. He had seen too many of those looks in the field, usually on the faces of those he was fighting.

Whatever silent conversation that was happening between the two was ended with Danny grinding his teeth and running away to what looks to be the direction of the restrooms.

“So sorry about him,” Masters apologizes like it wasn’t his fault Danny almost committed a crime. “He’s a bit sensitive right now. I honestly had hoped he would feel better after getting out of the house.”

Masters sighs almost theatrically, “Enough of that. Here is my business card for when you finally decide to-“

Tim walked away before he could finish.

It’s in the bathroom that he finds Duke talking to the door of one of the stalls. They make eye contact but all that’s there is concern and confusion. Danny wasn’t talking.

“Hey, Danny, right? How you holding up? That was kinda rough, huh?” Tim tries.

Silence. Then, “Did you read my note?” He hears come from the other side, small and thin.

Right. The note. Tim pulls it out of his pocket quickly.

“Yea, yea, I read your note,” he lies as he’s quietly unfolding said note. “It’s just, you know… oh.”

Duke raises his brows in surprise at Tim’s sudden change in tone and expression. Tim couldn’t even guess what his face was doing but it was the least of his worries. The younger leans in to read over his shoulder.

“Oh,” agrees Duke.

I think we are half-siblings. Please help me take him down. I’ll send DNA if you need it. It can’t wait.

Oh indeed.

“What does ‘oh’ mean?” Dick suddenly asks over the comms which Tim forgot were still in. “Guys, seriously, do I need to come in there?”

“No,” Tim answers quickly only to realize that Danny can hear it too. “Duke, can you cover the door?”

“Sure, man.”

Tim takes a deep breath and shoves his emotions way down. Danny was already upset and obviously trusting Tim with this, he needed to be a solid support that his little brother this teen can lean on.

It could also be a trap.

“Danny, can you come out please?”

There was hesitation in the air, but he finally hears the click of the lock and the door swings open. The poor kid was holding himself tightly and shrinking into himself, afraid of Tim’s reaction.

“Danny,” he says gently. Danny still flinches. “Why do you think we’re half-siblings?”

He lets the teen chew on his lip for a few moments before he has to repeat himself.

“I was going through my parent’s stuff,” Danny rushes out, “like paperwork and stuff… I found a box pushed way back with letters. At first I thought they were my parents’ old love letters, but it wasn’t my dad’s handwriting even though he signed it ‘Jack’. There was also a picture of my mom and your dad together on an excavation site. The date on the back made a lot of sense because when you add nine months, that’s my birthday.”

Danny looked at Tim with such a lost expression that Tim felt a bit lost himself.

“I never would have thought my dad would cheat on my mom. He was too afraid of what would happen if he did, I thought,” Tim says, leaning into it a little.

“Right? I never thought my mom would, my parents were infatuated with each other, but maybe they were having problems at the time? I don’t know, I didn’t actually read the letters.”

“Can I look through them?”

Danny blinks and then rubs the back of his neck anxiously.

“I mean, yea, but they’re back at my parent’s house in Illinois. I would have to find a way to send them to you, but Vlad is kinda watching my every move at the moment so-“

“What if I went alone?” Tim jumps in the suggest. “I have enough money to go on a mini vacation. I could sneak in when everyone’s asleep and find them.”

“Honestly I doubt it’s locked. You could just walk right in. If you don’t mind the wasted gas, then okay, sure. Need the address?”

Tim respects the confidence and trust.

“Nah, I got it, but I will still need that DNA sample.”

Danny swallows nervously.

“Right, um, what- what do you need? I don’t know how this works.”

Tim nods and a smile to calm the teen down. His nervousness was definitely noted though.

“That’s okay. I’ve done this plenty of times with women who claim their child is Bruce’s. Always ends the same.”

Funnily enough, Danny relaxes at the reassurance lined with warning.

“Oh, that’s good. Okay. Just tell me what you need. Can we do it right now?”

Danny glances at the door and Tim understands the rush.

“Sure, come here,” Tim waves them over to the little sitting area. He pulls out his pocket knife with a mischievous smirk. “Don’t tattle on me.”

Danny stares with a wide smile and even wider eyes. It’s kinda funny how excited he is when most people would wonder why Tim was pulling a knife on them. Maybe they were brothers.

“Whoa, how’d you sneak that in? There was a whole metal detector and everything,” Danny fans.

“A true magician never reveals his tricks,” he smiles at Danny’s pout.

“Lame. You probably paid off one of the waiters or something.”

He actually planted it in one of the plants inside before the event even started, but the kid was close.

“Or something.”

“I always wanted one,” Danny murmurs wistfully.

“I’ll get you one,” is out of his mouth before he knew it.

“What?” Danny jerks up in surprise. “No, you don’t have to do that. I wasn’t expecting-“

“I know,” Tim cuts off the guilty ramblings. “I want to. You should have one.”

“Aw, little Timmy is bonding with his brother,” Dick coos over the comms.

“We don’t know that for sure, Richard,” Damian reminds.

“He sounds pretty legit to me,” Duke adds.

Tim ignores them for the most part.

“Lift up your leg. I’m just gonna give you a small cut on your calf to get some blood. It’ll be quick, okay?”

“Okay.”

Danny doesn’t make a sound when metal meets skin and slices through. He presses down on the wound with his handkerchief to collect the blood. Of course that wasn’t enough for him to cover all the bases, so he asked Danny to spit in his empty champagne glass, which the teen complied with zero complaints.

“Is that it?” Danny asks curiously.

“Yep! I’ll run them down to the lab ASAP and compare against mine. I’ll let you know about the results when they come back. Let me get your phone number.”

Tim was quietly getting more hopeful with how cooperative Danny had been. He hands over his phone easily with a chirped “sure!” to also let Tim put in his number.

“We have to be careful though. Vlad’s been over my shoulder since I moved in. If he finds anything he doesn’t like, it won’t be good,” Danny laughed it off like that was normal.

Tim had suspected a heavy hand with the shoulder squeezing earlier bordering on abuse with what and how he said what he did, but it was looking worse than his original hypothesis.

“Danny,” he says softly, like when he talks to a victim as Robin. Which might ring true here and Tim was already getting angry about the whole thing, if the abuse is real, he might fly off the handle and Kon will be forced to reign him back in. “Do you want to tell me about Masters?”

Danny immediately goes on the defensive, looking around the empty room and shoulders going stiff.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Danny denies.

Tim isn’t surprised, but he also isn’t happy.

“I have more power than you might think, Danny. I can help you.”

Danny shakes his head and squeezes his eyes shut.

“I don’t- You- It’s complicated.”

“Then explain it to me. Please trust me, Danny. I can help get you out-“

“This isn’t about me!”

His words ring off the tile, making it louder than intended. Danny flinches at the sound and looks to the door with anxious eyes.

“Hey,” Tim whispers. It still makes the teen jump. “It’s okay. We’re okay.”

“I know that,” Danny snaps, but Tim knows not to take it personally.

“Alright,” Tim agrees easily. That seems to make Danny relax a bit. “What did you mean it’s not about you? It’s your DNA we’re checking against mine.”

Danny bites his lip in anxious contemplation. Looks like Tim is gonna have to pull this one out like teeth.

“Is there someone else involved?”

Danny hesitates but finally nods.

“You can trust me, Danny. I won’t do anything that isn’t in your best interest. I promise.”

Danny’s lip is bleeding but neither of them say a word. He looks desperate and alone. It makes Tim’s skin crawl.

“Promise you won’t do anything yet?”

Tim nearly sighs with relief.

“Yes. I promise.”

“So you won’t tell? You can’t tell,” Danny insists.

Technically it wouldn’t be telling if they can hear him in real time.

“I promise I won’t do or say anything. Whatever is said here is confidential, alright? I won’t tell anyone,” Tim assures.

It seems to do the trick because Danny creeps closer to whisper after checking the door one more time.

“Vlad is my godfather. Uncle Vlad, right? He has always wanted a son and he was obsessed with my mom, so when he met me he, I don’t know, flipped a switch or something and his attention was on me all the time if it wasn’t on Mom. He wanted me to renounce my dad and go live with him. Obviously that didn’t happen so he tried the next best thing apparently and decided he was gonna make a clone of me.”

Danny pauses and Tim needs it to seriously contemplate what even is his life.

“It didn’t work out the way he planned and the only clone to make it was a girl, my cousin, Danielle. Yes, he named her after me. Some things happened, we worked it out, so Danielle was on my side and hates Vlad, right? Well, when everything happened,” he swallows thickly, “Danielle came back from traveling to be with me. Vlad took that opportunity to confine her to the basement. He never wanted a daughter. He never cared about her. So now he’s using her as leverage against me. If I try anything or don’t do what he says, she’s the one that gets punished. If I try to run away, he’d kill her. I know he would. And before I knew about you, she was the only-“

“The only family you had left,” Tim finishes.

Danny nods with a pleading expression.

Tim can understand the primal urge to be close to a blood relative that actually cares.

“Now you have me,” Tim offers with a small smile.

Danny makes the effort to try and smile back, though it falls flat quickly.

“We don’t know that yet. I could be wrong. I’m sorry I threw all this at you, I just- When I found those letters and thought that… I just-“

“I get it.” And he did. He really, really did. “You know, even if we aren’t related I still want to-“

Danny’s phone rings, making the teen jump. He glances at the name calling with a scowl. He doesn’t answer.

“Vlad’s looking for me. I gotta go, but, um, thanks… for taking my word for it and being so nice about it. I promise I’m not trying to pull something for your money. I didn’t even know you were rich until I looked you up-“

“Danny.” Tim was coming to the conclusion that Danny tend to ramble when nervous. He stands and guides the kid toward the door. “It’s okay. I know you’re not lying. I’ll text you the results, okay? We’ll figure this out. Just be patient for me, alright?”

Danny nods and fidgets with his suit coat. He doesn’t make a move to leave yet, instead he turns to face Tim.

“Um, you can say no. I just- is it okay if I hug you?”

Tim blanks for a solid few seconds. It’s only Dick’s cooing and Damian’s sassing that snaps him back to reality. This was real, he has to remind himself. He might have a half-brother and he wants a hug. Tim can do hugs. He can crush a hug, totally.

“Uh, yea. Hugs are okay.”

Danny must not care about his awkward response because he suddenly has thin arms around his waist and soft hair tickling his cheek. They were at the ideal height difference where Danny can rest his head on Tim’s shoulder comfortably. Tim wraps his arms around the teen’s shoulders and just felt.

If Danny really is his half-brother, then fate really is cruel to deprive him of this kinship all throughout his childhood.

Danny pulls away first, face to the ground, and ears red.

With a wavering voice he stumbles out an apology and a thanks before bolting out the door, narrowly running into Dick. He’s disappeared into the crowd in a blink.

“You okay, Tim?” Dick asks.

Tim blinks, “I have a brother.”

“A possible half-brother, but yea, still exciting.”

“The results will come back a match,” Tim says confidently.

“Don’t get your hopes up, Drake. This Daniel sounds pathetic, he would only hold you back.”

“Damian, there is nothing pathetic about trying to protect someone. Danny is thinking about his little cousin,” Dick argues. Damian doesn’t dispute.

“My parents never loved each other,” Tim confesses. “It was a marriage of mutual convenience. It is very possible that my dad found a lover outside their marriage.”

It was weird talking about his parents like that, but it was true. His mother told him once that marriage isn’t about love, it’s a contract between two people with mutual interests and values. His father was always somewhat withdrawn.

Danny had the black hair, the blue eyes, and even the skin tone to match his own. His jaw line was wider and eyebrows thicker, but honestly, they could be brothers if they stood side by side. Half-siblings isn’t even a stretch.

“He’s my brother. I know it.”

Tim spots a flash of silver hair from the crowd and narrows his eyes into slits.

“My brother who is being abused by his caretaker apparently,” he says in a voice that sounds like he’s planning a murder.

Huh. Now that’s a thought.

He could just kill Masters, that would certainly get him out of the way.

“I don’t like that look,” Dick says cautiously, leaning to bring Tim attention to him and not Masters hunting down his little brother. “We’ll help him, Tim. Don’t go overboard here. You can’t afford to get too emotionally involved.”

Tim sends a glare his way.

“Why don’t I prove what I already know, then?”

“Tim-“

He already had the champagne glass in his jacket pocket and his handkerchief in his breast pocket. He shoves past Dick and heads toward the front doors. No one stops him as he leaves the party early and hails a cab back to the manor to start his analysis.

It’s a half a day later when Tim sends a text with an emoji of two males holding hands and a green check mark. It’s an hour later that he gets a shooting star in response. He smiles widely and then gets to work on planning Masters’ demise and his brother’s and ‘cousin’s’ escape into his custody.

#dp x dc #dc x dp #dp x dc crossover #danny fenton #tim drake #danny phantom #batman #vlad masters #Danny and Tim are half-brothers #dani phantom #nasty burger explosion #story ideas #Tim is having a crisis #but so so happy #solves the problem so quickly #100% here for Danny #tim is doing the adopting for a change

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