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snowysosturn · 2 days ago

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Fire & Desire - Matt Sturniolo Part 20

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20 Part 21

Pairing: Y/n x Matt Sturniolo

Summary: Y/n has always clashed with Matt. Despite working for Chris’s clothing brand and being close with Nick, her relationship with Matt has always been tense at best. While being forced to be around each other more, their animosity turns into something deeper. Can they overcome their differences, or will their fiery emotions tear them apart?

Warnings: smut, oral fem receiving, fingering, drinking, angst, tension

I swallow hard, my pulse thudding in my ears. Every inch of me is hyper aware of him, his sun kissed skin, the faint scent of seasalt and sunscreen clinging to him, the way his fingers flex against the counter like he's holding himself back.

I wet my lips, watching as his gaze follows the movement. "Maybe I just wanted to make sure you were.. comfortable" I murmur.

Matt exhales a sharp breath, shaking his head with a low chuckle. "You're killing me, you know that?"

I smile, feeling bolder. "Good."

For a second, neither of us move. The tension is thick, electric in the space between us. Matt closes the distance before making his way down to my shoulder and then my chest, his fingers tugging at the hem of my bikini.

Matt unties my bikini top and tosses it aside before kissing me again, this time more roughly. Matt slips his hands under my hips and lifts me up, setting me on the counter. He steps in between my legs, his body pressing against mine.

His eyes trace over my body, before his lips work their way over to my neck, his tongue flicking out occasionally against my skin, until he reaches my tits. He takes one in his mouth while he fondles the other, occasionally switching while my breathing becomes more laboured.

Matt pushes me back onto the counter, as his hands slide down from my waist to my thighs, gripping them tightly as he holds my legs open, his thumb rubbing over my clit through my bikini fabric at an agonisingly slow pace.

Slight breathy groans leave my mouth, as Matt toys with the ties of my bikini bottoms, pulling them loose and allowing his finger to slip under it, letting him feel the heat he just created. He kisses my stomach, as I let out a light moan.

“You’re teasing me Matt”

Matt looks up at me and without hesitation, shoves two fingers into me, allowing me to let out a louder moan.

“Fuck Matttttt, that feels so good” I pant, as Matt picks up his pace, no time to ease me in, in all honestly with the way he was kissing me, I didn't need to be.

I squeeze my eyes shut, to try to allow myself to completely relax. I feel hair brushing off my stomach as a warm, wet sensation attaches onto my clit. Making my whole body buckle.

I look forward, and Matt's tongue is swirling around my sensitive bud as his fingers pulse inside of me. I grab onto his hair tightly as the knot in my stomach builds faster and faster.

“Don’t stop Matt I-I’m gonna-” I yell out as I knock my head back against the kitchen counter.

“Fuckkkk!” I moan as the knot in my stomach breaks, my body shudders as Matt removes himself from me.

I sit up as I try to catch my breath back, surprised at how quick that was. I feel just as warm inside the villa as I did outside it. “Fuck I’ve never felt like that before.” I say shaking my head innocently as Matt smirks at me.

“Glad I could do that for you." Matt says as his kisses my forehead before turning and heading toward the sink to wash his hands. "A sandwich will bring you back down to earth now”

“What happened to me helping you out?” I question, raising an eyebrow.

“Letting me pleasure you is all the help I need.” Matt grins. “And making you lunch will just top it all off.” He gestures vaguely toward the fridge.

I exhale, steadying myself as I grab my bikini off the floor. "That’s okay I’ll get you back tonight.” I say as I lock eyes with Matt, giving him a smirk.

I take myself to the bathroom to fix myself and when I come back Matt has everything set up.

We move around the kitchen in sync, grabbing the bread, meat, and whatever else we can find that seems remotely sandwich worthy. Nick’s habit of stocking up on groceries during vacation finally pays off, and I make a mental note to thank him later.

Matt smirks as he spreads mayo onto a slice of bread. “Nick’s probably the only person I know who food shops on vacation.”

I laugh, stacking slices of turkey onto a random sandwich. “Honestly, it’s a lifesaver right now. Imagine if we had to go find a store?”

Matt groans. “Would’ve ruined the whole ‘sneaking off’ plan.”

I roll my eyes, but my stomach flips at the way he’s looking at me, like he’s still thinking about what just happened on the counter.

We finish making the sandwiches, eating ones for ourselves before stuffing the rest into a bag. Leaning against the counter, I take a bite, sighing happily. “Okay, maybe Nick really does deserve credit for this.”

Matt takes a big bite of his own sandwich, nodding in agreement. “Yeah, but we can’t tell him. He’ll get a big head about it.”

I giggle, nudging him lightly with my elbow.

Once we’ve finished eating, we grab the bag of sandwiches and head back down toward the beach. The sun is still high, the sand warm under our feet as we approach the group.

Nick spots us first, raising an eyebrow. “Took you guys long enough.”

“We were making food for all of you” I say, holding up the bag like a trophy.

Nate sits up from his lounger, pushing his sunglasses to the top of his head. “Wait, you actually made lunch? Thought you just wanted an excuse to sneak off.”

I roll my eyes, tossing him a sandwich. “You’re welcome.”

Matt flops down onto his lounger, throwing an arm over his face. “You guys are so ungrateful.”

Chris, still scrolling on his phone with his airpods in, grabs a sandwich without looking up.

Nick unwraps his sandwich and takes a bite, chewing thoughtfully before smirking. “Okay, okay, fine. I’ll admit, this was a solid move. Maybe I’ll keep stocking the fridge after all.”

I grin, settling back onto my lounger, propping up the sun umbrella to cool down my sun warmed skin.

Chris stretches lazily on his lounger, finally putting his phone down and glancing around at all of us. “We haven’t hit a nightclub since we got here.”

Nate hums in agreement, sipping his water bottle. “True. We’ve been to a few bars but nothing too crazy.”

Chris sits up straighter, his sunglasses pushing up into his hair. “Let’s go out tonight. Order in, have some drinks at the villa, then hit the club. Go all out.”

Nick immediately nods. “I’m in. We need a proper night out.”

Nate grins. “You just want an excuse to text that guy and get him to meet you there.”

Nick throws his crust at him. “Mind your business.”

I glance at Matt, who’s already looking at me. “What do you think?” he asks, tilting his head.

I shrug, pretending to consider it. “A club does sound fun.”

Chris claps his hands together. “That’s what I like to hear.”

Matt smirks but says nothing, just leaning back on his lounger.

Nick sits up, already pulling out his phone. “Alright, I’ll see what food we can order for later. What are we thinking? Pizza again?”

We all groan at the idea of more pizza.

“No more pizza” I say, shaking my head. “We’ve had enough of that.”

Nick nods. “Something different, then. We’ll figure it out later.”

Chris claps his hands again, excitement clearly setting in. “Alright, settled. Tonight, we party.”

I lean back on my lounger, stretching my legs out. The ocean breeze is warm, and the thought of a night out makes excitement bubble up inside me.

Nick is glued to his phone, his lips twitching in amusement as his fingers fly across the screen. I nudge his arm.

"What's he saying?" I ask, peering over his shoulder.

Nick barely glances up. "He just asked where we're heading tonight."

I grin, nudging him again. "Well, tell him we're going to the nightclub. Give him a chance to show up."

Nick hesitates for a second before rolling his eyes. "You’re really invested in my love life, huh?"

"Absolutely" I tease. "Someone has to be."

Matt chuckles from his lounger, leaning back on his elbows. "She’s got a point. You might as well shoot your shot, man."

Nick sighs dramatically but types out the message anyway. "Fine. But if this goes terribly, I’m blaming you."

I hold up my hands. "Hey, if it goes terribly, at least it’ll be entertaining for the rest of us."

Nate, overhearing, smirks. "Yeah, and if it goes well, we’ll give you so much shit about it."

Nick groans. "I hate all of you."

I just laugh, watching as he hits send. Tonight was already shaping up to be an interesting one.

The sun was beginning its slow descent. We had spent most of the afternoon in and out of the water, sprawled out on the loungers, soaking in the sun, and laughing over the stupidest things.

Matt was next to me on the sand, his arms resting on his bent knees as he traced patterns into the grains with his fingers.

"You good?" he asked, catching me staring.

I smiled, shrugging. "Yeah, just taking it all in."

He smirked, nudging me with his knee. "You look happy."

I bit my lip, feeling a warmth rise in me that had nothing to do with the sun. "I am."

He nodded, as if he already knew. Then, without saying anything else, he grabbed my hand, intertwining his fingers with mine. It was subtle, nothing dramatic, but enough to send a wave of electricity through me.

We sat there like that for a while, letting the sounds of the ocean and the distant conversations of the others fill the silence. I didn’t know how long we stayed like that before someone called out.

"Alright, let’s head back!" Chris announced, stretching his arms over his head. "Sun’s going down, and we’ve got a big night ahead."

Reluctantly, I stood, brushing off the sand before Matt and I followed the rest of the group toward the villa. The walk back was easy, everyone still in that post beach daze, the kind where your skin feels warm and tight from the sun and the exhaustion starts to creep in.

Chris walked ahead, scrolling through his phone before glancing back at us. "I’m posting pictures from the shoot" he said casually. "Gotta get that early promo going."

As we reached the villa, my phone buzzed in my hand, the familiar Instagram notification lighting up my screen. I glanced at Matt, who had just pulled his own phone out, both of us seeing the same thing, Chris had just posted the photos from the shoot.

Clicking into the post, I scrolled through the slides until I found it, the shot of Matt and I standing side by side, both in our near matching jackets. The way the photo was framed, the way we naturally leaned slightly toward each other, made it look effortless.

I barely had time to process it before I saw Matt hit the repost button, adding the photo to his story without hesitation. He hovered for a second, as if considering adding something, then let it go up as it was.

I smirked, nudging him with my elbow. "So, you’re just gonna post that without acknowledging the fact that I know you picked it all out yourself?"

His brows lifted slightly, but his lips curled into a grin. "Oh yeah? And what exactly do you think you know?"

I crossed my arms, tilting my head at him. "I don’t think, I know. Chris can’t hold his piss."

Matt glanced at me, pretending to be clueless. “What do you mean?”

I scoffed, giving him a look. “Matt. You picked everything out. The jacket. The number. My initial. Are you really gonna act like that was some random coincidence?”

He exhaled a small laugh, rubbing the back of his neck. “I mean.. it worked, didn’t it?”

I narrowed my eyes. “So, you are admitting it.”

He hesitated for a beat, then finally shrugged. “I wanted it to feel right.” His voice was quieter now, more honest. “Like.. if I was gonna do it, I wanted it to actually mean something.”

I stared at him, my heart doing this weird, unsteady thing in my chest. Chris had already spilled it ot me, but hearing him say it out loud made it different. It wasn’t just something he threw together. He thought about it.

I bit my lip, trying to keep my voice light. “So what? you wanted us to match so bad?”

Matt smirked slightly but didn’t break eye contact. “Maybe.” A pause settled between us. “Or maybe It was the only way I could express my feelings for you without admitting it.”

Something about the way he said it made my stomach flip. I rolled my eyes, shoving him lightly before turning to the stairs. “You’re unbelievable.”

He followed beside me, his shoulder bumping into mine. “Yeah, but you like it.”

I didn’t say anything. But I didn’t deny it either.

We all split off to our rooms for showers, to get rid of the suncream and random pieces of sand. We all hoped the showers would wake us up so we don’t need to nap.

After showering, I step back into my room, styling my hair first before I root out the outfit I’d decided on earlier. I can hear doors opening and closing, muffled conversations, the occasional blast of music as someone picks their getting ready playlist. I slip into my outfit, taking my time with my makeup, wanting to feel my best tonight.

As I swipe on my lip gloss, there’s a knock at my door. “What do you want to eat?” Nick’s voice comes through as he pokes his head in.

I glance up, setting my lip gloss down. “What are we getting?”

“Anything. I’m just taking orders, gonna get it all delivered.”

I think for a second before shrugging. “Surprise me”

Nick smirks. “Dangerous game. You might end up with something weird.”

I roll my eyes. “I trust you.”

He disappears down the hall, moving from room to room, taking everyone’s orders. The house slowly settles into that familiar pre night out routine, hairdryers whirling, perfume and cologne lingering in the air, someone’s speaker playing a mix of throwbacks and current songs.

By the time the food arrives, I’m fully ready, my hair styled, outfit on, makeup done. We all gather outside, taking seats around the villa’s patio table as the smell of takeout fills the air.

Nate digs into his food immediately, barely waiting for everyone to get their plates, while Chris argues with Nick over who ordered the better meal. Matt slides into the seat next to me, his knee brushing mine under the table, sending a small jolt of warmth through me.

After finishing our food, we linger outside for a while, chatting and letting the night settle in around us. Nick turns up the speaker, filling the space with music. With full stomachs and the excitement of the night ahead, we move back inside to start drinking and getting into the mood for the club.

Chris takes over DJ duties, queueing up a mix of songs that get everyone hyped. Nate and Nick are already a few drinks deep, laughing at everything, while Matt leans against the counter next to me, his arm brushing mine every so often. I sip on my drink, feeling the buzz start to settle in, warmth spreading through my body.

As the night goes on, everyone starts to loosen up, Nick dramatically lip syncs to songs, Chris hypes him up. We’re all dancing around the villa, singing along to every song, taking random pictures, and just enjoying ourselves.

By the time 11pm rolls around, we’re all buzzing with energy. Chris checks his phone. “Alright, let’s get moving”

Everyone scrambles to grab last minute things, phones, wallets, extra spritzes of perfume or cologne. I check myself in the mirror once more before heading to the door.

“Everyone good?” Matt asks, making sure we’re all set before we leave.

We pile into an Uber and make our way to the club, everyone on the brink of being drunk. The streets are alive, groups of people heading in the same direction as us, laughter and music filling the air. Excitement bubbles up in my chest as I look around at my friends, knowing the night is only just beginning. How lucky I am to share these moments with them.

We step into the club and the place is already packed, bodies moving in sync with the music, laughter and conversation barely audible over the sound.

I nudge Nick. “Is he coming?”

He nods, a smirk playing on his lips. “He said he’d be here, so we’ll see what happens.”

I grin. “Exciting. You nervous?”

“Please” Nick scoffs. “He should be nervous to see me.”

We exchange a laugh, and before we can even think too much about it, “ExtraL” by JENNIE and Doechii starts to play.

That’s our cue.

We don’t waste time and instantly make our way to the dance floor. The music pulses through my body as we move, completely lost in the moment.

At some point, the rest of the boys slipped away, and when I look over toward the DJ booth, I realise why. They’ve somehow managed to get us a table right next to it, complete with a bottle of vodka and mixers waiting.

Chris waves us over, motioning to the table. “We’re up tonight” he grins, already pouring drinks.

I slide in next to Matt, his hand finding the small of my back. I glance up at him, and the strobe lights flicker across his face, making his eyes seem even brighter.

“You good?” he asks, leaning in slightly so I can hear him over the music.

I nod. “Very.”

I’m not sure if it’s the club, the drinks, or just the feeling of being in our own little world, but I know one thing. I’m ready for whatever the night has in store.

Nick suddenly stiffens beside me, his eyes flickering toward the entrance before he straightens his shirt and fixes his hair in a way that’s meant to be casual but is anything but. I follow his gaze and immediately see a guy making his way through the crowd toward us.

“Is that him?” I whisper, nudging Nick with my elbow.

Nick exhales quickly, composing himself before smirking. “Yeah it is.”

Nick waves the guy over to our booth and he approaches us, a confident but easygoing smile on his face. He’s tall, well dressed, and looks older than Nick, “Nick” he greets, his voice barely audible over the music.

Nick tilts his head slightly, his smirk deepening. “You made it.”

“I said I would” the guy replies, his eyes flicking over to me briefly before returning to Nick.

Nick introduces everyone to the guy and tells him all of our names. We share pleasantries to try and make him feel comfortable. He slides in next to Nick seamlessly joining our conversation. He’s got that easy charm about him, fitting in as if he’s known us for years. We chat for a while, mostly teasing Nick, who’s pretending not to be flustered but is failing miserably.

Chris suddenly stands up mid conversation, adjusting his shirt. “I’ll be back in a minute.”

Matt and I both turn to look at him. “Where are you going?” I ask, but Chris just gives me a vague smirk before disappearing into the crowd of people on the dance floor.

After a few minutes, the guy leans in closer to Nick and says something that makes him laugh. Nick shakes his head, but I can tell he’s enjoying the attention. “Alright, let’s go get a shot, lead the way.”

I watch as they disappear toward the bar, turning to Matt with an amused look. “He’s so into Nick”

Matt chuckles, wrapping an arm around my shoulder and pulling me in closer. “Yeah, but do you think Nick’s into him?”

I glance back at the two of them, already deep in conversation, Nick laughing at something the guy said. “Oh, 100%.”

Nate chimes in “I hope this goes well for him.” As he pours drinks, handing us each one.

“So do I” I say, taking a sip of my drink.

Matt and I are sitting close, closer than we probably realize, his arm draped casually along the back of the booth, his knee knocking lightly against mine. There’s this natural pull between us, one that feels impossible to ignore.

I just want to be all over him right now. Maybe return the favour later.

Chris returns to the booth, but he’s not alone. Two girls trail behind him, both dressed to kill, their eyes scanning our group as they approach. Chris gestures between them like he’s presenting a prize.

“This is Rachel” he says, nodding toward the girl in a tight red dress. Then, he motions to the brunette next to her. “And this is Christina.”

The second the name leaves his lips, my stomach drops. Christina. As in Vegas Christina?

Matt stiffens beside me, his fingers gripping tighter against his glass. I glance at him, my pulse kicking up, but his face is unreadable.

I shift my attention back to the girl, studying her. She’s exactly how I thought she would look. Long brown hair, sharp cheekbones, an effortless confidence in the way she carries herself. She’s looking at Matt now, and something in her expression makes my blood boil.

Chris, oblivious or maybe just entertained by the sudden tension, speaks up. “Figured I’d fly them out. Thought you’d wanna catch up, Matt.”

Matt finally speaks, voice smooth but firm. “Didn’t think I had anything left to catch up on.”

Christina’s lips twitch, like she was expecting that response. “No? Could’ve fooled me.”

I don’t know what she means by that, but I really don’t like the way she says it.

My mind is racing. I know things have happened between Matt and Christina before, he’s never denied that. But Matt told me himself that he hasn’t been with anyone since that night in the house. And Vegas was after that, so.. surely not.

Still, the way she looks at him, the confidence in her tone, it’s messing with my head.

I glance at Matt, but his expression is carefully neutral. Chris, meanwhile, is grinning like he’s watching the most entertaining scene unfold, completely oblivious to the tension he’s just ignited.

From the corner of my eye, I catch Nate shifting uncomfortably, looking just as out of place in this situation as I feel. Our eyes meet, and without a word, he tilts his head toward the bar before mouthing the word. “Shot?”

It’s exactly what I need right now.

I nod, pushing up from the booth. “We’re getting a drink” I say to no one in particular, but Matt’s gaze flicks to me immediately.

“Want me to come?”

I shake my head, forcing a small smile. “I’m good.”

I need a second to breathe, to process whatever the hell this is before I let it get to me. Because right now? It’s definitely getting to me.

Nate follows behind me to the bar before ordering two shots of Sambuca. Nate slides the shot toward me, watching as I pick it up. “You good?”

I exhale, rolling the glass between my fingers before finally throwing it back. The burn of the shot matching the burn in my chest. “Yeah. It’s just.. a weird situation.”

He leans against the bar, arms crossed. “What's making you feel weird?”

I set the shot glass down, sighing. “I know he's been with her before Nate. But Matt told me he hasn’t been with anyone since right before you came to stay, so I know nothing happened in Vegas. But still.. it’s just weird seeing her here.”

Nate nods, considering that. “I don’t think Chris has any clue what’s going on between you two” he says after a beat. “If he did, he wouldn’t have invited Christina out.”

I run a hand through my hair, stealing a glance back toward the booth. Matt’s eyes are already on me, his jaw tight, like he’s waiting to see what I’ll do. Christina is talking to Chris, but she’s angled slightly toward Matt, like she’s waiting for an opening.

I turn back to Nate. “Let’s do another shot.”

He grins, signaling to the bartender. “Now you’re talking.”

As we make our way back to the booth, I immediately notice that Chris and Matt are gone. Nate clocks it too, but neither of us say anything. Instead, we’re left to take the only open seats. Nate slides in next to Rachel, leaving me no choice but to sit beside Christina.

She shifts slightly as I settle beside her, turning just enough to face me. Her perfectly lined lips curl into a smirk, and I already know whatever is about to come out of her mouth isn’t going to be pleasant.

“So” she starts, dragging out the word, her nails tapping against her glass. “You and Matt are, what? Friends?”

I keep my expression neutral. “Yeah, I guess you could say that.”

She hums, taking a sip of her drink. “Funny. I just didn’t expect him to be the type for.. complicated situations.”

I raise a brow. “Complicated how?”

Her smirk widens, like she’s enjoying this. “Well, we do have history. I just assumed if he was seeing someone, he would’ve told me.”

I fight the urge to roll my eyes. So this is what we’re doing.

“I don’t think Matt owes you an update on his personal life” I say smoothly, taking a sip of my drink.

Christina lets out a light laugh “Oh, It’s just.. you know how it is when you have that kind of connection with someone. Some things never really go away.”

I take a deep breath, trying to steady myself, but Christina doesn’t stop there.

“Vegas was.. unforgettable” she says, swirling the ice in her drink.

I refuse to give her the reaction she’s looking for, so I nod casually. “Oh yeah? How was it?”

She tilts her head, almost throwing me a pitiful look. “Oh Y/n I can’t spare you the details! You know what they say. What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas.”

That’s it. That’s my final straw.

I feel my stomach twist, my chest tightening in that way that tells me I’m two seconds away from either snapping or letting this whole night ruin me. And I won’t give her the satisfaction of either.

I put my drink down, pushing it away from me. The last thing I need is more alcohol fueling whatever emotions are bubbling to the surface.

Nate notices my change in demeanour. “You good?”

I nod quickly, already standing up. “Yeah, just..just gonna head back to the villa.”

He watches me carefully. “Want me to come with you?”

I shake my head. “No, it’s okay.”

“Nope, not happening” he says, standing up and walking toward me leaving the two girls behind us. “First off, I’m not letting you leave here alone, and second, I’m not staying with those two either.”

I let out a breath, not wanting to argue. “Fine” I say, and we start weaving through the club toward the exit.

Just as we’re near the door, I catch movement in the corner of my eye, Matt and Chris. They’re standing near the bar, mid conversation, but their heads turn in sync when they see us leaving.

For a split second, I think Matt might step forward, might ask where I’m going or what’s wrong. But he doesn’t. And I don’t stop either.

I don’t even get to say goodbye to Nick, who’s completely wrapped up with the guy from earlier.

I just step out into the warm night air with Nate, leaving it all behind.

Nate and I get to the villa in silence, the quiet settling around us in stark contrast to the volume of the club we just left. I pull my phone out of my purse the second we’re inside, checking my notifications. Nothing from Matt.

Wow. Is that really how it is?

Anger rises in my chest, hot and sharp. It’s not even about Christina anymore, it’s about the fact that I walked out of there, and he didn’t even bother to check in. If I didn’t care, I wouldn’t feel like this.

But I do.

And that’s exactly why it stings.

I let out a frustrated breath, holding the power button on my phone until the screen goes black. If he’s not going to message me, I don’t even want to give myself the chance to sit here and wait for it. I just need to sleep this off.

“The sooner I sleep” I mutter to myself, slipping my shoes off, “the faster this night will be over.”

And with that, I take myself to bed and pass out.

Hours later, I’m jolted awake by the sound of my bedroom door bursting open. My heart nearly leaps out of my chest as Nick stumbles inside, completely unbothered by the fact that he just rudely woke me up. Sunlight is already creeping through the curtains, and I instinctively reach for my phone, turning it on to check the time.

7am.

I groan, rubbing the sleep from my eyes before looking at Nick, who’s swaying slightly where he stands. His clothes are wrinkled, his hair a mess, and his eyes are heavy lidded, but he’s grinning like an idiot.

“Are you okay?” I mumble, still groggy. Then, as I properly take in his state, realisation hits me. “Wait, are you still drunk?”

Nick pauses, squinting as if he’s actually trying to figure it out. “Not completely.. The hangover is starting to kick in already.”

I sigh. “Where the hell were you?”

He grins wider, dropping onto the end of my bed dramatically. “I went back to his place.”

I laugh at Nick, shaking my head. "Did you have fun at least?"

He grins, flopping onto my bed dramatically. "I did. I really like him."

I smile at that. "Good. But you need sleep, Nick. You’re barely sitting up."

Nick groans but nods, and as I help him up, he leans on me slightly. "Walk me to my room?"

I sigh but hook my arm through his anyway, guiding him down the hallway. "Come on, lightweight."

We're almost at his door when, suddenly, he perks up with a mischievous glint in his tired eyes. "Wait! Let’s say hi to Matt!"

I barely get the words "No, Nick, let’s not-" out before he’s already reaching for Matt’s door handle.

Everything happens too fast. The door swings open.

And then I see it.

Long brown hair fanned out on the pillow. A bare shoulder peeking from under the sheets.

A girl.

In Matt’s bed.

Christina.

a/n : what else did you expect from part 20 fr (dont kill me pls)

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theemporium · 1 day ago

Note

my birthday just passed 🎉 but can you do a blurb with Luke having a full day planned since it was during the four nations break? a little smutty if you’re feeling spicy?

(i’m working on forgiving you after cherry and luke you still sent me into a spiral)

i know he only went to michigan for the break but i don't care and that's the joys of fiction! anyways, happy belated birthday!! thank you for requesting!🫶🏽

Not to be dramatic or anything but Luke was pretty sure this was one of the best things he had ever splurged on with his NHL contract.

As much as he needed hockey like he needed air, there was something downright exhausting by time the halfway mark in the season hit. He knew they were getting closer to playoffs, that it would be one of the most important stretches, that his mind should be focused purely on hockey. He also knew that there were people banking on him being on the Team USA roster with his brothers, to take on the honour of representing his country in a best-on-best tournament.

But it was really hard to care about any of that when it was February and he was currently curled up on a sunlounger with you beside him in a hot country with weather that made winter feel like a nonexistent memory.

“You’re supposed to be relaxing,” Luke murmured against your shoulder, his eyes squinting even beneath his sunglasses as he glanced at the book you were currently reading.

“This is me relaxing,” you retorted, grinning a little when he let out a huff. “I’m not stopping you from napping, baby.”

“You should be napping with me,” he corrected as his hand skimmed up and down your side. “Or at least giving me some attention.”

You snorted. “Needy.”

“I flew you to a whole new country so I could spend ten days of uninterrupted time with you alone,” Luke replied, pressing a few kisses against your skin as he spoke. “How is my neediness a surprise to you?”

“No but I like when you admit it,” you grinned as you turned to look at him over your shoulder. “Plus, you would have been this needy even if we stayed back in the States.”

“Yeah but here I can be needy in the privacy of our fancy ass villa and private beach,” Luke grinned, leaning in to press his lips against yours for a few moments before he pulled away long enough to speak. “People don’t read when they have a private beach, baby.”

You bit back the urge to giggle. “Oh yeah? What do they do then?”

“Loads of things,” Luke mused, his fingers dancing along the string of your bikini bottoms. “Most of them say clothes are overrated.”

“Is tha so?” You hummed, pushing back enough until your ass was pressed against the bulge in his swim trunks. “You gonna fuck me on our private beach, baby? Gonna take advantage of the fact no one is gonna see me but you?”

“Mhm,” he nodded, his heart thumping wildly in his chest as he ground his hips against your ass. “Much better than that book of yours, babe. Promise.”

You grinned at the sight of his already flushed cheeks. “Get those trunks off and then we’ll see, Hughes.”

#luke hughes #nhl #new jersey devils #luke hughes x reader #luke hughes x you #luke hughes x y/n #luke hughes fic #luke hughes one shot #luke hughes smut #nhl x reader #nhl x you #nhl x y/n #nhl fic #nhl one shot #nhl smut

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pimpingthesqueak · 1 day ago

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temptations, temptations….

lads!caleb x fem!reader SMUT (MDNI)

synopsis: you have a crush on the popular coworker, and after a late night at work, he makes it clear he feels the same.

warnings: office AU! reader is down bad, caleb is just as down bad but he hides it better (in the first half), alcohol consumption, flirting, teasing, semi-public sex, risky AF sex, caleb cums first one time, multiple orgasms and overstimulation (both f and m), dacryphilia and breeding kink if you squint, praise kink, caleb becomes a mess a few times.

hi! this is my first published fanfiction so i am so so so open to feedback and suggestions. let me know if you like it :3

—————

your crush on caleb was pretty well conceived, you’d like to think. at first, it was just lingering glances, smiles and harmless jokes. he was a charismatic guy; there was no way your concealed feelings stood out in the sea of shared coworkers. sure, you talked to him a little more than everyone else, but your projects frequently overlapped, and you found yourself going to him, asking questions you already knew the answer to.

but you had standards. morals. don’t fuck your coworkers. you’d learn the hard way not to mix business with pleasure. so you admired. from a distance.

until that night.

working on a project ran late, but caleb was there too, so being the only two left in the office, you traded work to help complete your tasks quickly. you surprised him with dinner halfway through, and soon the conversation strayed from work, and more onto personal things…

“how do you see with these things?” he holds up your glasses to the light and squints through them, ignoring your protests to give them back. your prescription wasn’t even that bad, at least in your right eye. your left eye was a different story.

“very well thank you!” you huff and snatch the glasses from his outstretched arms.

“seriously, the right one is okay but the left one gave me a headache.”

“i’m sorry, we all can’t be perfect like caleb.” you roll your eyes but toss the glasses on the table between you.

“i’ve seen you type without your glasses before. should i be worried?” he smirks at you, his purple eyes shining with mirth.

why was he so infuriating? and couldn’t you wipe that grin off your face??? “shut up. they’re not that bad. but i memorized the keys.”

he stops for a moment. “no way.”

“it’s not that hard. you never took keyboarding in grade school?”

“yeah but i have to stare at the keys sometimes.”

“did i find something i’m better at than the infamous caleb?”

“not until I see you in action, sweetheart. come on.”

and you found yourself typing at your computer, typing simultaneously with caleb’s words with your eyes covered by his hands. your brain operates on autopilot as you focus on the feeling of his hands over your eyes, the heat from your body radiating from yours…

“are you even listening to what i’m saying?” his question breaks you out of your thoughts and then he laughs. “you totally weren’t because you just typed my question.”

your cheeks heat up and you push his hands away before he can feel it. “did i pass your stupid test?” you cross your arms and read over the words you typed out. there was a bit of The Bee Movie script, a recipe for a 7 layer cake and the beginning of Never Gonna Give you Up. *what??*

“i don’t know, pipsqueak. there’s some spelling mistakes.” he says from behind you.

you scan the paper again and frown. “no there isn’t, what are you-“

your words cut off when he leans over you and points to the screen. “there.” you weren’t paying attention because he was so close, in your space and you could smell him and he smells clean, despite being here in this stuffy office for over 12 hours. his body was huge, nearly folding over as he leans, and if you closed your eyes you could imagine that body wrapped around you, cuddling you, holding you in place as he-

you clear your throat and put some distance between the two of you, rolling the chair in the opposite direction a few inches. you look at the mistake to distract yourself. “that’s not a typing mistake, that’s a grammar error.”

if caleb noticed your demeanour change, he didn’t say much about it. “errors are mistakes, pipsqueak.”

“i have a name.” your eyes narrow.

“i know, but i want to use something that is mine.” he smiles, but there’s something deeper in his eyes, something you choose to ignore.

there wasn’t more productiveness after that, so you retired first, and he insisted to stay and clean up, and when you offered to help, he refused. so you said your goodnights and ran as fast as you could to the elevator to gather your thoughts.

what was that?

—————

you told no one about this, because frankly, part of you didn’t remember much besides your racing heart during that night.

but one thing was made clear to you: this was more than an innocent little crush. you wanted to fuck caleb, morality be damned. and he was so unsuspecting that you felt dirty, then a little hot then even more shameful.

and it didn’t help that he was ever the attentive, caring coworker. bringing you your paperwork from the printer, grabbing you an extra coffee, and talking about your favourite show that he just happened to start getting into in his spare time. you were fucked. and every time you tried to distance yourself to draw the line in your head, caleb was there, making sure you forgot why you wanted one in the first place.

a random thursday, weeks after the night you shared in the office together, you were sitting at your desk eating your lunch. suddenly you hear a chair roll up beside you and look to your left to see caleb leaning on his palm, staring at you with his dreamy galaxy eyes. you could lose yourself in them but you snap yourself out of it. “are you here to make fun of my lunch?”

“no. unless it has cilantro in it.”

“it does not.” you go to take another bite.

“go out with me.”

your food drops out your hand, landing back in its container. you face him, looking as if you didn’t hear him right. “what?”

“i’m tired of this back and forth.” he sits up then leans in, and his eyebrows scrunch together in that way that could make you do anything for him. “i want you. and frankly, so does james from marketing, so im beating him to the punch.”

you blink. who the fuck was james?

“say yes.” his voice was soft, but had a slight firmness to it.

“yes.”

he brightens and kisses you on the cheek before rolling away. “tomorrow, 7:35 PM. i’ll pick you up!”

you stare dumbly at your lunch as you process this interaction.

no seriously, who the fuck was james?

——————

the following day, you finally cave and tell your best friend that you have a date and she immediately comes to the rescue when you admit you have nothing to wear.

she knocks on your door and 30 minutes later you’ve showered shaved and scrubbed down your body. you’ve tried on so many dresses that you want to scream when finally you agree on something.

“if you guys actually make it to wherever he’s taking you, he’s not the one because i’d fuck you right now,” your best friend squeals and at 7:35 on the dot, you hear a knock on your door.

he was in slacks and a dress shirt, holding flowers awkwardly at his side. he was staring down at his feet while he was waiting for you to answer, and when you did, his eyes widened as they raked over your body.

your red dress fit you snugly, with thin straps secured on your shoulders and the dress stopping just above your knee and your wore high heeled boots to give yourself some height. you smirk as his eyes turn into saucers and take the flowers. “thank you caleb.” you giggled and gave them to your friend. who he didn’t notice until now. he cleared his throat. “good evening.” he nods at her then looks back at you, a bit more composed. “should we go now?”

gone was the confident, charismatic coworker that you knew so well. this caleb was… well he looked like he wanted to fuck you. which is exactly what you were going for.

your friend hands you your bag as you leave and caleb opens the door for you to get in the car.

during the drive you tried to converse with him but his answered were short, curt and he was gripping the steering wheel like he wanted to rip it off.

shit. maybe this was too much? you knew it. but it was a cute dress.

he pulls up to a restaurant that you’ve seen online for its exclusivity, the waitlist three miles long. but he offers you his hand as you get out the car and his mood was much calmer outside. the valet parks the car as you two walk inside. the hostess escorts you to a secluded part of the restaurant, a booth with dim overhead chandelier.

“caleb, you didn’t have to do this. i would have been okay with a dive bar under a strip club.” you smile as he scoots in beside you.

“no way josé, i gotta impress my work wife.”

you roll your eyes. “i’m not your work wife.” the wine comes, and you need it, because he’s so close to you, his cologne is tickling your brain in ways that is making your breathing quicken. you’re gonna need all liquid courage available.

turns out you weren’t the only one. caleb was drinking with a purpose between the light conversation, and soon he was staring at you with flushed cheeks and you were drowning into those galaxy eyes.

he chuckles wryly as your glasses get topped off again. “i imagined this differently.” he sighs.

you hiccup in reply, making the both of you laugh quietly in the muted restaurant. “i think we’re doing pretty good so far.” you say in between gasps.

he shrugs and puts his arm behind you, and you warm up, not because of the alcohol. “i thought i’d be cooler about this. more… macho.”

you snort and take a sip. “are you saying you’re nervous?”

“yes, absolutely.” you two laugh again and you look up at him. “i had a game plan and you ruined it.” he playfully glares.

“what was the plan?”

“fancy restaurant, with wine and dishes i can’t fucking pronounce because they’re french and you’re french-“

“i know french.” you clarify, then frown. “how do you know that?”

he ignores your question, and continues. “but then you show up in that dress, and your heels and fuck, you smell so good…” he leans in to the crook of your neck and inhales deeply then groans in a way that makes you squeeze your thighs together.

“caleb-“

he groans again and his head droops down onto his chest. “i had a plan. i really like you, and i wanted to treat you like a princess. but i cant think past your dress right now.”

your breath hitches at the confession, but he doesn’t care. in fact, he seems to be more interested at the way this dress shows off the swell of your nipples through the fabric. your head swims in pinot grigio and you let out a shaky breath. “I can back up, or give you space-“

“no.” his arm behind you wraps around your shoulders and pulls you into his space. and before both of you could think about it, his lips are on yours.

you hated any type of pda. but you couldn’t remember why as you deepened the kiss, a hand playing with the hair on the nape of his neck.

he groaned your name and soon the kisses turned desperate, but tried to keep their slow rhythm.

he has to be the one to pull away, because you couldn’t remember where you were, nor did you care. you needed him. you lean back in for another kiss but he pulls back and lets out a strained chuckle.

“I can’t kiss you again.”

“why not?” you huff but your bratty attitude is less efficient with your panting.

“if i kiss you again, im going to fuck you. and you deserve better than my raging boner. you deserve hearts and flowers and chocolates….”

“those can wait, we can do it for our second date. you already got me flowers…” you lean in and he pulls away again, increasing your irritation. screw moral compasses!

he sighs your name and you shiver. “i just don’t want this to be a one time thing.” he says carefully and watches you, waiting for your reaction.

you liked caleb. probably more than you should. despite the growing heat between your thighs and your nipples begging for this mans attention and he wasn’t giving it to you, you liked spending time with him. it was easy to be open with him, and he genuinely seemed like he cared about what you said.

he wants to be a gentleman. which was cute but you didn’t want cute, you needed something darker. and he looked like he wanted to give it to you.

“what do you need from me? written consent that i’ll allow a second date?”

he chuckled and it it resonated through your body. “i guess,” he says then looks at you, his eyes searching yours. “just give me another chance to get this right.”

you two stare at each other for long moments, his pleading eyes unnerving you. it seemed like… to him this was more than casual dating, and that made your heart go into overdrive. you look past your lust and swallow.

“caleb… this was already perfect. but i’ll give you as many chances you want.” no way you were letting this man slip through your fingers.

his body sags in relief and his hold around your body tightens. “oh baby, i just need one.”

you raise your eyebrows. “overconfident, are we?”

“for good reasons.” he was done talking, so he silenced you with a kiss. and this kiss made your head spin. You clutch at his shirt as he presses into you, almost lowering your body under his. but you needed him closer, and you needed these clothes off.

————

you weren’t sure how you got into this position, but you couldn’t complain. and if you could, you wouldn’t.

your dress was bunched up at your waist, panties ripped off, the remains tucked in caleb’s pocket. your moans echoed through the empty stairway accompanied with his grunts. he was fucking you with a one track mind; though his goal was completed several moments ago.

your hands clenched the railing, and his were clutching the fat of your hips like a lifetime. he wanted to have you quickly in the backseat of his car, take an uber to his house, and bed you properly. tenderly, still trying to salvage the night.

his plans faltered when you stumbled down the stairs and he caught you before you fell. your ass made his raging boner snug, and the wine in your veins made you bold enough to wriggle back against him. he groaned, kissed you and soon he was pushing his fat cock into your heat, fucking you, chasing a quick release so he could get you home and treat you properly.

and then you came.

the sight was unravelled him to the bone, your parted lips letting out a silent cry, your eyes rolling back and the way your back arch into him… it was a sight. you were a sight. but how you felt-

your nails dug into his biceps, your legs tightened around him as you fell off your peak. but the way your walls clenched, pulling him in, making it impossible to pull out…

he came, hard. flooding your heat with white and he wanted to close his eyes but he couldn’t, he couldn’t look away from you or your body, not even for a second.

you panted and smiled up at him as you came down from your high. but he glowered at you, and before you could ask what was wrong, he was taking you off his leaking cock and turning you around.

“hold onto this.” he ordered and placed your hands on the railing. that was the only warning you got.

he slammed back into you making the both of groan and he chased his high again, fucking you hard, and the new angle mixed with already being so sensitive had you seeing stars.

his balls abused your clit, and his mouth was all over your back. kissing your shoulder, licking your spine biting your neck, this man was in a frenzy. all while his long thick length bullied into that spongy part inside you.

he came first the second time, and came with a small whine that came from the back of his throat. “you’re unmanning me, beautiful.” he said shakily, and you whine in reply. it’s all too much, and his seed starts to flow out of you.

“oh no, we can’t have that…” caleb murmurs and he pulls out slowly, groaning at the sight of your walls clinging to his shaft. his fingers find your entrance and scoop up any cum that escaped before shoving it back in. then shoving his cock back into you in one go. you let out a broken moan as your knees buckle, but he holds you up with his hands on your hips and starts drilling into you again.

at this point you couldn’t be quiet, and your moans echoed throughout the staircase. your walls flutter, and you cum again, and your fluttering walls send him over the edge, deep groans coming from him.

you thought that it would be over, 3 times in minutes should have done it for him, but his thrusts turn erratic and broken versions of your name falls from his lips.

“I’m… so sorry.” he rasps, slamming into you like a man possessed. you barely understand him, your moans were cries of overstimulation, and he presses you into the wall. “y-you deserve better. so much better. it’s just, i’ve been waiting for so long… and I thought i could wait a little more but this dress…” he lands a particularly sharp thrust inside you, making your eyes roll back.

“i mean, could you blame me?” he pants and uses his body to push you snug against the wall. you couldn’t feel anything but him…. “you smell so good.” his nose runs along your neck band you shiver. “how am i supposed to think?”

“caleb…” you whine out. you were swimming in overwhelming pleasure, and caleb was drowning with you.

“fuck, sweetheart don’t say my name like that…” his thrusts were shallow, as if he couldn’t muster the courage to pull all the way out.

“i can’t…” you gasp as the coil in your stomach twists again. “caleb, i can’t!”

“i know… i know baby, i know…” he shushes you and kisses your neck sending chills down your back. He embraces you and you lean into him. for a moment, you caught your breath. his hands caress your skin and you sigh in contentment.

he peppers kisses along your neck and his hands travel lower. you though it was to fix your dress but his fingers find your clit, soaked with arousal, and tease the little nub. you gasp and you walls clamp down on his length.

“there she is…” caleb groans and starts to thrust again. they were slow, but deep, forcing cries from your lips.

“i promise, im gonna take you home and treat you like a real lady but i need you to cum for me one last time. can you do that baby? please?” his words were soft in your ear, a contrast to the brutal thrusts he was giving you.

you sniff and you don’t even realize you were crying. neither did he, because he looks down and wipes your tears. “you’re so beautiful…” he murmurs and he fucks you faster. the obscene sounds from between you two rand in your ears, but you were two fucked out to feel shame.

the coil tightens and your legs stiffen, clear indicator that your orgasm was close. he chuckles and his thumb traces your lips. “i knew you had it in you.”

suddenly the echo of a door opening falls on both of your ears and the both of you still. caleb hand covers your mouth and your eyes open in alarm.

you hear a male voice from several stories up, coming down the stairs. “yeah apparently someone heard screaming, but there’s nothing here.” he comes down another flight. caleb chuckles in your ear and you shiver. your heart races as the steps get closer. you tap his arm and his grip tightens. “quiet.” he says in a low voice and gives an experimental thrust. your moan is muted by his hand over your mouth but he groans softly then start to fuck you again, quietly.

you clamp down on his cock and his breathing hitches. the voice and footsteps come closer.

“i’m not going all the way down there.” the voice mutters then a door opens then closes and you two were alone again.

caleb’s pace gets devilish and the rapid approach of your orgasm makes it hard to keep your eyes open. your walls flutter sinfully around him. “i’ll … have to teach you… how to be quiet, sweetheart.”

you moan in reply and clench again.

“cum on me, baby. want you to soak me.”

you obey immediately, cumming on his cock, biting on his hand to hold back your cries. he curses, the pain shooting to his cock and he cums right after you, grunting your name as he paints your walls white.

his head rests on on your shoulder as he catches his breath, and when you go to rest your forehead on the wall, you head hits his hand instead.

a chuckle goes through the both of you and he straightens before pulling out. you wince at the loss and he forces himself to ignore that.

instead, he fixes your dress back into place and he turns you around. he looks sheepish, almost shy. “i promise i can treat you better than that.” he scratches the back of his neck.

better than multiple orgasms by his huge dick? “no complaints here.”

he chuckles and zips his pants back up. “let’s get you home.”

“your home?” you ask hopefully and he laughs.

“you thought I was done with you?”

————

like and repost, but please don’t steal

#caleb love and deepspace #lnds caleb #love and deepspace #caleb x mc #caleb x reader #love and deepspace caleb #love and deepspace smut #love and deepspace fluff #caleb x you #caleb smut #reader smut #caleb x y/n #l&ds #lads x reader #lads x you

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naturesapphic · 16 hours ago

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I absolutely love ur writing and ive had this fic idea for a while now and i thought only u could do it justice. So i was thinking a fic based on the song all mine by brent faiyaz, where its the bit "you told me your new man dont make you nut thats a damn shame" and its reader is or was in a relationship and they couldnt make her cum so billies so cocky about it and that she could do it like the bit in the song "you come here ill knock your pussy out the damn frame" so yeah billie making reader cum easily. Dom!billie obvi and some strap action if u wouldnt mind. Tysm ly💖💖. If u need that bit of the song starts at 0:56

All Mine

Billie Eilish x fem!reader

Warnings: smut, dom!billie, strap on

“You told me your new man don’t make you nut, that’s a damn shame”

You and Billie have been together now for about six months now and the only thing yall have really done was make out and be handsy with each other. You knew you wanted more but you were nervous about taking that extra step with her. In past relationships, which were with men, they never got you to cum. It embarrassed you to no end, never having that sweet release that you always gave your exes and never experiencing yourself. So the thought of having sex with Billie was making you extremely nervous.

Which is stupid because you knew Billie was very experienced and could make you easily cum but it still scared you nonetheless. So when things were getting pretty heated you held yourself back and Billie could sense it. She asked you about it and even though you were embarrassed to tell her, you did anyway. Billie’s face contorted into shock then it morphed into sadness and understanding. After she let you explain, she went into her own bad experiences and relationships where they didn’t satisfy her.

You were surprised and shocked that Billie went through some of the same stuff you did but it made you fall for her even more. She reassured you that if you still didn’t want to have sex that it was completely okay, which melted your heart. With Billie reassuring you and telling you her own experiences, you felt a lot better about it and you wanted to share that special moment with her. You trust her more than anything.

“You come here, I’ll knock your pussy out the damn frame”

Billie was pounding into your cunt like it was nothing. She knew she could make you satisfied, she always knew. That’s why she’s always so cocky all the time. She knows that she’s better that your exes and she knows she about to make you cum. It only took her about five minutes to get you this way, your body squirming and your hands clawing at her skin. You were moaning her name so loudly that you wondered if anybody near would hear you. You knew Billie to be cocky, you sensed it but you knew that was gonna get worse as she knows she can fuck you better than anyone who’s ever tried.

“But I’ll love you better if you let me.”

You felt the tightness in your belly and you knew you were about to cum any second. The smirk on Billie’s face grew more and more as she knew you were about to climax. White cum covered Billie’s fingers and you felt your body shake in ecstasy as your orgasm washes over you. Billie pulled her fingers out of your pussy and plopped them in her moan, moaning softly at your sweet but tangy taste. “I’m so proud of you babygirl. I knew I would get you to cum less than five minutes. How are you feeling?” She said softly as she moved some hair from your face, making you smile at her. “Thank you bils….i feel amazing. Like im floating on a cloud.” You replied happily.

Billie giggled at your comment and leaned down to place a sweet kiss on your head. She helped you up and y’all started aftercare which was now one of your favorite things to experience with Billie. She was so kind and gentle with you and made sure to reassure you every second she could. When the aftercare was over, the two of you went into the bed and Billie pulled your body on top of hers. “I love you so much y/n. Thank you for letting me making you feel good and loved.” Billie whispered against your ear and placing a kiss on it. “Thank you Billie and I love you so much too.”

A/n: thank you anon for this request and I hope you enjoy it! I hope everyone else likes it too! Remember to stay hydrated and to rest! Take care of yourselves. I love y’all! :)

#billie eilish blurb #billie eilish fic #billie eilish oneshot #billie eilish x you #billie eilish imagine #billie eilish fluff #billie eilish fanfiction #billie eilish x reader #billie eilish smut #billie eilish #billie eilish x fem!reader #billie #billieeilish #billie o’connell

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pretentious-blonde · 2 days ago

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steady

pairing: steve harrington x reader

summary: healing is never easy, but steve surprises even himself with his progress

warnings: ptsd, anxiety, therapy sessions, depression

a/n: angst!! robin makes an appearance too. steve is kind of smitten and he loves it <3

series masterlist

Steve slouched in the passenger seat of Robin’s car, sunglasses perched on his nose, hiding the tension marring his features. If you could see him, you’d notice the subtle clench of his jaw, the way his hands rested in tight fists on his thighs.

He kept his eyes shut against the morning light—though the tinted lenses helped, the brightness still drilled into his temples, intensifying the dull, throbbing ache that had settled behind his eyes. The quiet inside the vehicle was unusually deliberate, a courtesy Robin extended with careful consideration.

She was never one to enjoy silence, but she was trying. Like she always did for him.

He shifted, pressing his head a bit further into the seat. The sound of tires on asphalt rolled beneath them like thunder, matching the faint ringing in his ear. It was a small remnant of older injuries—injuries he’d earned through too many head-on collisions with fists and floors.

Still, he felt lucky. After all, pain was a familiar adversary, and these headaches came around far less frequently than they used to.

A glance at her told him all he needed to know: her shoulders stiff with concentration, hands gripping the wheel lightly, eyes skimming across the road. She gave him a little smile, more a twitch than anything. She’d barely spoken a word since he got in, not wanting to rile his migraine. It reminded him of just how fiercely she cared.

They were heading to his weekly appointment, a routine that once felt more like a punishment than a path to healing. He’d spent his first two sessions in complete silence, arms crossed, mouth sealed shut.

Steve Harrington didn't need a therapist. The idea of seeing felt like admitting defeat. But Robin—gentle, but tearful—had practically dragged him back, desperately pleading for her best friend to return to himself.

The memory arose every time he buckled in for these drives, reminding him that sometimes letting people in was the only way to get out of the mess in his head.

“Almost there,” Robin said softly, her voice subdued. A pang of guilt flared inside him; he knew she had better things to do on her Saturday morning than play chauffeur. Yet here she was. She always was when he needed her.

He opened his eyes as the car glided into the parking lot, the movement so careful it barely jolted him. The world outside looked too bright—even through sunglasses—and his headache began to pulse in protest. When she killed the engine, she turned to him, eyes filled with caution.

“You alright with getting in?” she asked. Her voice was as gentle as her driving.

“Yeah.” Drawing in a breath and forcing a small, wry smile. “Pretty sure I remember the way.” He joked through the dull throb in his skull.

She nodded, and he carefully pushed the door open. The sudden rush of cooler air felt refreshing. A stab of pain shot through his temple, and he winced, one hand lifting to shield his eyes from the sun. As he stood, he turned back toward her.

“I just… I wanna say I’m sorry again, for waking you up and making you drive me. I hate—”

“Don’t.” She held up a hand before he could finish. “It’s no problem. Seriously.”

There was reassurance in her tone, and it squeezed his heart. He hated imposing, but her unwavering support was something he grew to accept.

“What you gonna do for the hour?” he asked, a little softer now.

“I’ve got my reading material. I’m all set.” She patted a worn paperback tucked into the side of the driver's door. She waved him off, managing a playful eye-roll. “Now go. You’ll be late.”

He nodded and headed towards the entrance, stepping through the lobby steadily as not to jostle his head around. The walls were painted in cool tones that did nothing to ease the piercing sunlight still dancing at the edges of his vision.

Despite that, he managed a half-smile at the receptionist—he’d been here enough times now to know the woman, though he never quite remembered her name. He headed for Dr Avery’s office, following the familiar hallway until he found the right door.

He knocked once, the sound dull against the wood, and a voice called from within.

“Come in.”

Pushing the door open, he hesitated, sunglasses still shielding his eyes. The elderly doctor glanced up from a small stack of files, his expression softening into a gentle smile.

“Migraine?” he asked, and though his voice was calm, concern wove through it.

“Yeah,” he admitted with a huffed laugh, stepping inside and shutting the door behind him. In response, Dr Avery rose from behind his desk, crossing the room to draw the blinds. Morning sunlight turned softer, and the shift in brightness made his shoulders relax a fraction.

“Better?” Dr Avery said, settling back into his chair.

In one smooth motion, Steve slid his sunglasses off, resting them on his knee as he sank into the chair opposite. He closed his eyes for a second, letting the dimmer light settle over him.

“Much,” he murmured, pressing his fingertips against his temples.

Silence hung in the room. It was gentle in the way Dr Avery seemed to cultivate it in all their sessions.

“So, how has your week been?”

He rubbed the back of his neck and gave a one-shouldered shrug.

“It’s been alright,” he answered, gesturing toward his temple with the hand clutching his glasses. “Apart from, you know…”

“It’s been a while since you’ve had a migraine.” Dr Avery nodded, thoughtful. “Any idea what might’ve triggered it?”

“Not really,” Steve said, mouth tightening into a line. “Didn’t sleep too well last night.”

“Any reason for that?” came the quiet prompt.

He shrugged, gaze drifting away. “Same old dreams.”

There was a pause—a measured moment that the doctor always seemed to use to let Steve choose how much he wanted to reveal.

“Still bad?” He finally asked when he realised he wouldn’t elaborate.

“They’ve died down a bit this week.” He exhaled, brow furrowing. “Guess my mind’s been busy with other stuff.”

A knowing spark crossed Dr Avery’s eyes.

“Drama with the kids?”

A snort of laughter startled from Steve’s chest, a quick bloom of humour in the midst of his fatigue.

“No, not quite,” he said, shaking his head fondly. “Though Lucy still can’t tie her shoes. You’d think she’d have mastered it by now with all my help, but… nope.”

“Is that so?” Dr Avery asked, lips quirking in amusement.

“Yeah,” he replied, rolling his eyes in that trademark exasperation that came from too many hours spent cajoling a stubborn little girl to make bunny ears with the laces. “She should just stick to Velcro. Less drama that way.”

A comfortable chuckle passed between them, the air relaxing for a moment. But he wasn’t surprised when Dr Avery steered them back on track—he’d noticed long ago how adept the therapist was at re-centring him whenever he started wandering off-topic.

Which—in his defence—Steve was especially prone to.

“So,” Dr Avery said gently, leaning forward a bit, “what’s really been on your mind lately?”

Steve’s hand tightened around the armrest of the chair. The lighthearted spark in his eyes dimmed, replaced by something softer. He took a slow breath, like he was trying to gather the right words.

“I... I met someone…” He said slowly, feeling the words out.

His confession hung in the air—three simple words, but they carried a weight that was far greater than the simple sentence.

He held his breath for a moment, as though he were afraid that speaking it out loud might shatter the illusion. He could practically see Dr Avery’s features shift into gentle encouragement, the slight lift of eyebrows and a softness around his eyes.

It was the same look the therapist always gave him whenever Steve cracked open the door to something new, something vulnerable.

Clearing his throat, tried to muster some of that confidence people used to say he had in spades back in high school. It felt a little rusty, but it was there, somewhere beneath the bruises.

“Who is this someone?” Dr Avery asked quietly. Knowing the importance of the question.

Steve couldn’t stop the small grin that crept onto his face. He fiddled with the sunglasses perched on his knee—still mindful of the headache pressing at his temples, but somehow the ache felt muted by a rush of something much sweeter.

“She’s new in town,” he began, voice a little shy, “took over the old bookshop. You know the one down on Oak? Kids needed some books, so I asked if she could deliver them. And she did—personally.” He shook his head in astonished awe. “I mean, talk about customer service, right? Even managed to track down some of my favorite titles on, like, super short notice.”

Dr Avery’s lips curved into a smile. “She sounds nice.”

“You have no idea,” Steve replied, eyes lighting up as memories tumbled through his mind. He had to fight back the grin that threatened to become almost giddy. “When she came by the school, I asked her out for coffee. Honestly, I thought she’d say no—I mean—I barely even know her—she was just doing her job. But she said yes.” He let out an incredulous little chuckle. “Even looked happy I asked.”

“So, you met up with her?”

“Twice,” Steve confirmed, leaning forward in his seat as though admitting a grand secret. “We got coffee both times—nothing serious, but…” He paused, remembering the feeling of those events. In the coffee shop’s atmosphere, he’d felt almost normal, like he could forget the the weight of the last few years.

“She laughed at my jokes,” he continued, voice tinged with a note of disbelief, “and I mean really laughed—not just being polite—she actually thought I was funny.”

He couldn’t quite disguise how much that simple fact thrilled him. For so long, he’d forgotten what it was like to feel that weightless. You didn’t know every part of him yet. And in that ignorance, there was a freedom he hadn’t felt in ages.

Steve glanced down at his sneakers, twisting the sunglasses in his hands as though he couldn’t quite meet Dr Avery’s gaze. After a moment, he exhaled softly and spoke again.

“She, uh… she called me a few nights ago,” he began, running a hand through his hair. “It was late—maybe past ten? I was cleaning up—you know, trying to settle down for the night. Then the phone rang. I kind of panicked for a second before I heard her—I mean, nobody usually calls that late on a school night, unless—”

He paused, eyes flicking up to gauge Dr Avery’s reaction. The therapist merely offered a small, encouraging nod, so Steve continued, his voice growing steadier as he found the story’s thread.

“Turns out she was reworking her finances,” he explained. “Something about spreadsheets and reorganising… stuff—moving money around, I don’t know. Not my thing. She sounded stressed, though. Tired. I could hear it in her voice—even when she tried to laugh it off, there was this… tension, you know?”

“She asked me if I could just… tell her about my day.” His gaze trailed to a spot on the floor, a slight smile creeping onto his face. “Said she needed something to take her mind off the numbers, something that’d make her smile.” He shook his head, as if still in mild disbelief. “And I did—told her anything I could think of. Stupid stuff. But every time she asked me more I—”

A faint flush of color touched his cheeks as he forced himself to stop rambling. He shifted in his chair, the memory clearly stirring emotions he was still getting used to.

“Honestly,” he admitted with a small shrug, “by the end of that call, I was the one feeling better—like, just by giving me a reason to talk. It was… I don’t know.” His smile broadened as he grasped for the right words. “It felt good to be that guy again.”

Dr Avery’s lips curved in a thoughtful smile, and he leaned forward as though to speak. But Steve, caught up in the rush of the memory, beat him to it.

“I guess that’s why I’m so thrown off by how easy it’s been,” he said, voice going soft. “I was worried I wouldn’t know how to do this. But with her… it’s just been simple.”

He let out a slow breath, hands finally coming to rest on his knees, attention lifting to meet the doctor. His eyes held a sheen, a hope that felt fragile but very, very real.

“So, yeah,” Steve finished, voice hushed. “She called me, and I ended up talking her ear off. Turns out we both needed that call.”

Dr Avery, picking up on that far-off look in Steve’s eyes, nodded approvingly.

“I’m really happy for you, Steve,” he said. “Truly. This is a big step.”

His cheeks felt a little warm, and he shrugged as if to downplay it.

“It’s—yeah, well, it’s not like we’re official or anything,” he joked weakly, but there was a trace of a blush there that gave him away.

“No, Steve, really,” Dr Avery pressed, leaning forward. “Think about you this time last year. You’ve come a long way.”

“Yeah.” He rubbed the back of his neck, glancing aside. “When you put it like that…”

Dr Avery’s expression brightened with approval. “Would you like to talk about what you want to do next?”

Steve’s eyes shot back up, and there was a flash of that old charismatic grin—boyish, genuine.

“Sure,” he said, settling a little more comfortably into the chair. And he meant it, because he knew exactly what he wanted to spend the rest of this session talking about.

Steve wasn’t entirely sure why he was walking toward the bookshop. In fact, he was pretty certain that turning around would be the more logical, less awkward option. But even as the thought crossed his mind, his feet kept moving forward—one in front of the other—carrying him down the quiet street. The evening sun dipped low in the sky, casting the storefronts in long shadows.

He told himself it was a casual visit—you were just on his way home. That was all. After his session this morning and an afternoon spent napping off his migraine, he needed some fresh air. Dr Avery’s words stuck in his head, all that gentle encouragement about letting himself explore how he felt.

So here he was, hoping he didn’t look like some creep for showing up out of the blue.

By the time he reached your door, the shop lights shone softly in the evening dim. He hesitated for a split second before pushing inside, setting off the familiar chime of the overhead bell.

No turning back now.

“Hello?” he called softly, stepping past a stack of books near the entrance.

“Steve?” Your voice echoed from somewhere off to the side, recognising his voice.

“Uh, yeah?” he answered, glancing around the shelves.

“Round here!” you directed.

He followed your voice and turned the corner—and immediately his heart lurched.

You were on a rickety ladder, precariously reaching for a high shelf. Before he could even say a word, the ladder lurched dangerously to one side, and his instincts kicked in, sharp as ever due to his line of work.

He surged forward, grabbing the frame to hold it steady. The sudden jolt of movement made you stumble, and you shot him a sheepish look as you clung to a shelf.

“Whoa—hey,” he said, breath tight in his chest as he stabilised you. “I spend all day trying to avoid broken bones, now I gotta to look out for yours, too?”

You looked down at him, a pang of sympathy stirring at the worry across his face. His hands remained firmly gripping the ladder, but his eyes were filled with concern.

You mumbled a flustered apology, claiming you were nearly finished. But he didn’t buy it.

“Sure you were.” He gave the ladder a cautionary glance. “Please, just…get down? Before you break your neck?”

“Yeah, yeah. Alright.” Rolling your eyes, you began to climb down, one careful step at a time.

Reaching the floor, you rested a hand on his shoulder for balance. It was a small gesture, but warmth prickled across the back of his neck.

He liked being the steady one for a change.

“You need a new ladder,” he said, trying to sound more authoritative than concerned.

“If it lasted this long, it’s fine,” you scoffed, though he could tell you knew how bad it was. He bit back the urge to argue, exhaling a quiet laugh at your stubbornness.

Once you were safely on your own two feet, you turned to face him, dusting off your hands.

“So, back already for new reading material?”

He blinked, suddenly feeling the weight of his spontaneous visit.

“Uh—no, actually.” He cleared his throat, searching for something that sounded casual. “You were just on my way home, and, y’know…felt rude not to say hi.”

His heart tripped over itself as you offered a small smile.

“Hi,” you said softly, your eyes meeting his.

“Hi,” he echoed, a bit breathless. For a moment, neither of you spoke. He coughed to break the silence. “So, um—doing some reorganising ‘round here?”

“Sort of,” you gestured toward two large boxes in the corner. “Got a delivery yesterday. I was putting it away before I nearly met my demise on that death trap.”

His gaze shifted to the boxes. “That’s… quite a few books.”

“Yeah,” you admitted, “my supplier wanted to clear out some stock, so he gave me a really good deal. Now I kinda regret it, because I’m gonna be stuck here all evening.”

His posture straightened. The chance to help—to be useful—sparked a little excitement in him.

“I can stay,” he offered, maybe too quickly. “I mean—I can help. If you want.”

Your eyes widened slightly. “No, you don’t have to do that on your day off. I feel guilty just thinking about it.”

“Seriously,” he shook his head, giving you a reassuring smile. “I’m weirdly good at organising stuff. Used to work at the video store—returns master, right here.” He pointed at himself, a teasing grin playing on his lips.

He had always thought that job would never prepare him for anything, yet here it was—proof that even the worst gigs could have their silver linings. He found himself almost grateful to Keith for all the menial tasks he’d been forced to complete while working there.

You giggled at his proud proclamation, the sound sending a pleasant shiver through him.

“I still feel bad making you work.”

“I got nowhere else to be,” he admitted, shrugging in an attempt at nonchalance, though he couldn't fully hide his eagerness. “Really. Let me help.”

“Fine, fine.” You gave in, lifting your hands in mock defeat. “You take the box on the left. I’ll take the one on the right.”

“Deal,” he said, stepping up to the nearer box. He pried open the cardboard flaps, inhaling the familiar scent of new books and packing paper.

It took you less than an hour to reach the bottom of the boxes, with Steve finishing his first and immediately jumping in to help with yours. He wasn’t exaggerating when he said he was good at alphabetising. Only asking intermittently about which genre section he should place them in.

He sank onto the velvet couch with a satisfied sigh, leaning his head against the backrest. The shop felt cosier now that all the new arrivals were tucked away on the shelves, along with the soft lanterns overhead. He had to give it to you, this place really was charming.

“That was faster than I expected,” you remarked, settling beside him.

“What’d I tell you?” He shot you a playful grin. “Basically a professional.”

"You’re full of surprises," you muse, nudging his knee lightly with yours.

He shrugs, but there’s a hint of something pleased in his expression. It feels good to be praised by you specifically.

You tilt your head, watching him for a moment. "Are you thirsty?"

"A little,” he starts to shake his head. “But honestly, don’t worry—"

“Wait here.” You sprang to your feet, practically bouncing toward the back of the shop and up the stairs that led to your apartment above. He watched you go, a smirk tugging at his lips and his eyelids feeling heavier. The place felt oddly empty without your presence, but he still found it comforting nonetheless.

He felt truly at ease here, already picturing himself marking homework—messy sums and misspelt words scattered across the pages. It would be a relief not to do it under the harsh glare of the classroom lights; maybe it would even help with his headaches.

God, he was getting ahead of himself.

Light footsteps on the stairs made him blink awake. You appeared, carefully balancing two steaming mugs. The soft light from the overhead bulbs illuminated the proud smile on your face.

“Oh?” He sat up straighter, intrigued. “What’s this?”

“Hot chocolate,” you announced proudly, offering him one of the mugs as you begin quote him. “Apparently 'everyone likes it.'”

He took the mug gently, trying not to pay too much attention as your fingertips against his.

“That they do,” he chuckled, voice low. "Thanks."

You looked so pleased—like you were giving him a gift far more precious—and it made his chest tighten. You settled in next to him again, blowing on the surface of your drink. Your gaze flicked over his face.

“Were you falling asleep on me?” you teased.

“Never,” he insisted, taking a sip. Warm sweetness spread across his tongue, making him sigh in contentment. “Just had a long day.”

“Well, now I feel even worse for making you stick around.”

“Hey,” he said, shaking his head and lifting his mug in mock salute, “It’s worth the reward.”

A small smile touched your lips. “Fair enough.”

He cleared his throat, trying not to look too anxious as he ventured.

“So, are you gonna be busy next week?” He kept his eyes on the rising steam so you wouldn’t catch just how much this question mattered to him.

“Not sure.” You gave a casual shrug. “Sometimes this place is packed, other times it’s dead quiet. But I like it—I get to meet new people. It’s one of the best parts of owning a shop, you know? Everyone eventually wanders in.”

“Yeah, that’s true.” He nodded. “Hawkins isn’t huge, so…makes it easier to get familiar with folks.”

“Quality over quantity, right?” you quipped, and Steve swore you shot him a sidelong look that made the tips of his ears burn. He swallowed, unable to stop a smile from creeping onto his face.

He took another sip of cocoa.

“Right,” he echoed. Then, his heart thrumming, unable to stop from himself from blurting out the question. “See me next week?”

“Huh?” You blinked, a bit confused.

Realising how direct that sounded, he fumbled to correct himself.

“I mean—are you free next week? We could…do something. Grab dinner?”

He hoped his recovery was smooth, maybe he was coming on a little strong, but he couldn’t help it. It had been so long since he’d felt hopeful about something, and every time he was around you, the weight on his shoulders seemed to lift.

Call him selfish, but if you’d let him, he wanted to soak up as much of you as he could.

A flicker of surprise crossed your features, followed by a delighted smile. “I can be free on Wednesday, I think.”

“Great.” He nodded, doing his best not to look too excited. “I’ll—I’ll book us a table somewhere. A restaurant.”

He could practically feel the adrenaline in his veins. It’d been way too long since he planned an actual dinner date, and the thought of sharing that with you felt electric.

“Do I need to dress fancy?” You grinned. It was a playful question, but he noticed a little bashfulness in your tone.

“Nah,” he said offhandedly, warmth pooling in his stomach. “You’d look beautiful no matter what you wear.”

He said it so nonchalantly that it caught you off guard and your cheeks warmed with colour, a gentle rose you tried to hide behind the rim of your mug. But he still caught the flush and felt his heart leap, safe in the knowledge that you might also feel the same as he did.

He drained the last of his hot chocolate, the flavour still clinging to his lips as he handed the mug back.

"Thanks," he said as you took his cup.

"I think I should be the one saying that," you corrected.

He rolled his eyes, leading the way to the exit, but before stepping out, he glanced back at you.

"See you Wednesday?"

You chuckled—he always repeated your plans back to you. It was endearing, but deep down, he needed the reassurance. When it came to you, he didn’t want to leave anything to chance.

"See you Wednesday," you echoed.

His grin was immediate and genuine, cheeks warming to match yours. With one last look, he slipped out the door, carrying that sweet moment with him all the way home.

Now, all that was left was to call Robin (obviously) and figure out what restaurant to book. He kicked himself for not asking what kind of food you liked, but he liked to think you trusted him with the choice.

It felt good—being in control again.

taglist: @daisy-is-a-writer @chiliwhore @kvroomi

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington #stranger things #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fluff #stranger things x reader #steve harrington angst #steve harrington fanfic #stranger things imagine #stranger things fic #stranger things series #steve harrington x you

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soaln · 3 days ago

Note

could you do ace with a m!reader who is into breeding (the reader being the bottom)

NO TITLE IDEA ﹒ ౨ৎ

𓏵 ﹒ ┈ warnings : minor dni, breeding kink, maybe ooc, smut w no plot, ace x m!reader, probably bad grammar, over 1,4Kwrds ｡— ◟ 𖦹

The ship rocked gently on the open sea, its wooden frame creaking softly as it cut through the waves. The midday sun blazed overhead, casting a golden glow across the deck, but inside the cabin, the heat was of a different kind. The air was thick, charged with an electric tension that seemed to hum with every breath. The scent of saltwater mingled with the earthy aroma of sweat and desire, creating an intoxicating atmosphere that enveloped the two men in their private world.

Ace loomed above his lover, his chest rising and falling with the weight of his breaths. His lips were slightly parted, his expression a mix of hunger and restraint. The space between them crackled with unspoken need, the kind that had been building for days, weeks, perhaps even longer. His hands, rough and calloused from years of life at sea, moved with surprising tenderness over the smooth expanse of his partner’s chest. Every touch was deliberate, every caress a silent promise of what was to come.

“I told you,” Ace murmured, his voice a low growl that sent a shiver through his lover’s body. “You don’t know when to quit.” His thumb circled one of the taut nipples beneath him, a teasing motion that elicited a sharp gasp. The man beneath him arched into the touch, his body betraying the depth of his need.

But despite the teasing edge to his words, Ace’s gaze was dark and intense, his pupils dilated with desire. His lover’s breath hitched at the sight, his own eyes heavy with lust, his entire body trembling beneath Ace’s weight.

“No,” came the soft but insistent reply. The man beneath him shifted, his hands sliding across Ace’s back, nails scraping lightly over the muscles there. His fingers dug into the flesh at Ace’s hips, pulling him closer. “I can never get enough of you.”

Ace’s lips curled into a wry grin, his amusement evident. “Yeah, I know. You’re insatiable.” His breath was warm against his lover’s neck, and he couldn’t help but let out a low laugh, the sound rich and deep. “Always begging for more. But that’s what I love about you.”

A subtle smirk played at the corner of his lover’s lips. He tilted his head up, capturing Ace’s mouth in a heated kiss, his hands already working to undo the buttons of Ace’s vest. His fingers trembled with impatience, his need palpable. “You can’t deny it either,” he teased between kisses, his voice rough with desire. “You love how much I want you. How much I need you.”

Ace groaned against his lips, pressing his body down into his lover’s. Every touch, every movement, ignited a fire deep within him, a fire he had no intention of extinguishing. He kissed back hungrily, his hands sliding down the lean body beneath him, feeling the warmth and strength of it beneath his fingertips. He could feel the heat of his lover’s pulse against his own, a perfect match to the burning ache between them.

“You’re damn right,” Ace muttered between kisses, his hands traveling lower, gripping his lover’s hips firmly, possessively. “You belong to me. Always have. Always will.”

A tremor ran through his lover’s body at the words, a quiet shudder that only fueled the fire raging between them. His hands moved to pull Ace closer, desperately. His body shifted beneath Ace’s as he arched up, pushing their pelvises together, a sharp intake of breath slipping past his lips as their bodies finally aligned.

“You’re mine, too,” his lover rasped, his voice raw, needy. “Only yours, Ace.”

Ace’s eyes darkened, burning with something primal. “Good.” He pulled back slightly, positioning himself with deliberate slowness. The anticipation built in the silence, heavy and thick, before he lowered his lips to his lover’s throat, pressing kisses down the warm column of skin. “I’m gonna make sure everyone knows you’re mine. Nobody’s gonna be able to touch you like I do.”

His cock thrust forward then, deeply, deliberately, forcing the air from his lover’s lungs with a shocked gasp. “Ace,” came the broken whimper, the sound of his name enough to send a shiver down his spine.

“Yeah, that’s right. Say my name,” Ace murmured, his breath ragged in [y/n]’s ear. He thrust again, this time faster, harder, feeling the way his lover’s body trembled beneath him. “Beg for it.”

His lover’s body responded eagerly, his legs shakingly wrapping around Ace’s waist, pulling him in deeper. “Please,” he begged, his voice a melodic mix of pleasure and desperation. “I need you, Ace. Want you so bad.”

Ace growled, his teeth grazing his lover’s neck. “You’re gonna take everything I give you. Every. Damn. Inch.” With that, he surged forward again, setting a frantic rhythm, his hands gripping the sheets beside his lover’s head, his body moving with the powerful, relentless drive of a man consumed by fire.

The room seemed to shrink around them, the only sound the rhythmic clash of their bodies, the gasps and moans that spilled from their lips. The air thickened with heat, the flames of their desire licking higher, stronger, until the only thing left was the raw, unfiltered need to claim, to possess, to mark their territory in the most primal way imaginable.

“You’re mine,” Ace growled again, pressing in deep, making sure his lover felt every inch of him. “Forever. No one else will ever have you like this.”

His lover’s hands gripped him tighter, nails digging into his back as he came closer, shuddering violently beneath him. “I’m yours, Ace. Always… yours.” He moans.

And with that final admission, Ace gave in, his body shuddering in the release, filling his lover completely with a hot sticky climax. They collapsed together in a tangle of sweat-slicked limbs, breathless, the aftershocks of their shared climax still rippling through them.

Ace pressed a lingering kiss to his lover’s temple, his hands gentle now, fingers carding through his hair as they both caught their breath.

“Never gonna let you go,” Ace whispered, his voice low but steady, the promise hanging in the air between them like a vow.

And for once, it wasn’t just the flames that burned between them. It was something much deeper, something that neither of them could ever extinguish.

---

The cabin was quiet now, the only sound the gentle lapping of the waves against the ship’s hull. The heat of the moment had faded, replaced by a warm, contented glow. Ace lay beside his lover, his arm draped over the man’s chest, their bodies still pressed close. The room was bathed in the soft, golden light of the setting sun, filtering through the small porthole and casting long shadows across the wooden floor. The air smelled of salt and sweat, a lingering reminder of their passion. Ace’s fingers traced idle patterns on his lover’s skin, feeling the steady rise and fall of his chest beneath his touch.

“Do you think it’ll always be like this?” The male asked, his voice low and husky, breaking the comfortable silence.

Ace turned his head, meeting the man’s gaze. There was a vulnerability there, a question that went deeper than the words. He smiled softly, his thumb brushing over the man’s cheek. “I don’t know about always,” he admitted, his voice gentle. “But for now, it’s enough. You’re enough.”

The man’s lips curved into a small, grateful smile, and he leaned into Ace’s touch. “You always know what to say,” he murmured, closing his eyes for a moment. “I just… I don’t want this to end.”

Ace’s heart ached at the words, a bittersweet pang that echoed his own fears. But he pushed them aside, focusing on the warmth of the moment, the way their bodies fit together so perfectly, as if they were made for each other. “It doesn’t have to,” he said firmly, though he knew the reality of their lives. “We’ll take it one day at a time. That’s all we can do.”

The male nodded, though the worry didn’t fully leave his eyes. Ace leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to his forehead, then his lips. “I’m not going anywhere,” he whispered against his skin. “Not yet.”

The words hung in the air, a fragile promise in a world that was anything but certain. But for now, in the quiet of the cabin, with the waves as their witness, it was enough. They held each other tightly, savoring the peace, knowing that whatever came next, they would face it together.

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smallestapplin · 2 days ago

Note

Could I request a NSFW megatron x cybertronian reader. The reader is the ship's draftsman usually he works with brainstorm and preceptor and often reports back to rodimus but the one time they report to megatron, they come back to brainstorm with their brain fucked silly, their valve nice and full, and with their blueprints scrunched up and damaged.

:0!! Big brained anon lets go. Also I’m sorry if I read your ask wrong or just typos, so I went with a he/they reader if that’s okay! If not tell me and I’ll change it.

Warnings : Cybertronian reader referred with He/They pronouns, semi-public fucking, office fucking, cybertronian have both valves and spikes, reader gets called ‘good boy’ once. Percy and Brainstorm have implied feelings for you (this was by accident I swear)

Mdni you will be blocked! Adults only please!

Perceptor hums curiously, where on the ship are you? Surely it doesn’t take you this long to delivery blueprints and get the captains approval, right? You are a dutiful bot, you like staying on time and you’d usually send him or Brainstorm a message if things came up…speaking of.

The red bot looks over to his colleague, not at all surprised to find the teal bot oblivious to the world around him, it would be easy for him to miss anything.

“Brainstorm?”

Perceptor sighs watching the other bot strip was wires.

“Brainstorm!”

“Huh? Oh, yeah?” Brainstorm blinks his optics rapidly, clearly having been so lost in his project.

“Our assisant has been gone a while, do you think we should comm him?” Perceptor looks to the time, noting you’ve been for nearly an hour.

Brainstorm waves him off with ‘pff’

“You worry too much, for all you know Rodimus is stalling and Ultra Magnus got off topic.”

“And Megatron?’

“Now why would they have to go to him for those blueprints? Ah…I guess he is also Captain, meh, our little draftsmech probably got to rambling, they’ll be back.”

Perceptor just hopes he’s right, trusting Megatron is still new, but surely he wouldn’t hurt or yell at you, you’re too sweet!

How you wish you could talk, to babble off nonsense that Megatron loves to hear so much, but he can’t risk anyone else hearing how fragged out you are in his office. your back strut arched perfectly for him.

Your optics roll back feeling Megatron’s large chassis pressing into you, your intake stuffed with two of his thick digits muffling your pitiful cries. He’s so big, almost too big for your valve to take, yet you take him like you were made for him. Transfluid from pervious overloads sliding down your legs and twitching spike, dripping to the floor below.

You are a stunning mess.

“As much as I’d love to hear your voice, you don’t want the others to hear just how good you’re taking my spike, do you?”

You sob around his digits, muttering something or trying too as your valve clenches down on him trying to milk him once more of his transfluid. Megatron doesn’t understand how Rodimus or Ultra Magnus do it, being able to sit there while you so passionately and excitedly explain the blueprints you worked on, and the plans for it.

Such a sparkle in your optics, he wanted you to come undone.

His engines purrs lowly as your servos claw at his desk.

“You’re making such a mess…frag…” he groans. His free servo on your hips keeping them up and arch to take all of his spike.

Your optics leaking lubricant as your frame is wracked with sensitivity. His spike slams so deeply into you, stretching you out and denting your metal just to make all of him fit! You’re gonna overload again—!!

Megatron curses under his harsh ex-vent, red optics burning brightly as he leans back watching your valve clench down around him, your own fluid gushing from around him, sending him into yet another climax himself.

His transfluid is so hot inside you, painting your insides pink. He pauses, savoring the warmth and closeness you two have in this moment with you warming his spike. Megatron slides his digits from your intake, letting you speak freely, or you would if your brain module wasn’t static.

Megatron chuckles, gazing tenderly at your fucked out expression, such a smart bot fragged so dumb over his desk. He almost wants to coo when you let out a broken whine, so pitifully too, sad he’s pulling his spike from your well loved puffy valve.

Once empty you fall limp across his desk, your frame trembling and twitching, he can’t help but find you so intoxicating. His servos gently rub across your back, slowly bringing you down from your high.

“Think you can stand?”

“Mm…gah…”

Megatron stifles a chuckle at your sounds, you’re just asking to get bent over again. He helps you steady yourself, your blueprints in your servos wrinkled and partially torn down the middle from your previous grip on them.

“Fix up those plans of yours and I’ll sign off on it, okay?”

You nod dumbly, legs shaking and threatening to give out from underneath you. Megatron smiles at you, placing a servo on your cheek to give you a gentle pet before letting you melt into his touch.

“Good boy. Now, you might want to head back before your coworkers get suspicious.”

Oh. My. Primus.

You forgot.

You forgot you needed to head back to the lab and help run some diagnostics, oh no-

“Right! Right I just….” You’re shaking so bad, your modesty paneling doing a horrible job keep all his thick transfluid inside.

But he doesn’t telling you that as you hobble out of his office, and back to the lab.

The cycle is almost over, surely no one is still in there. You can barely think, the only thing your foggy mind can think of his obeying Megatron’s order to get to the lab. Perceptor awakes from his near half stasis at the sound of the door sliding open and someone stumbling, it even catches Brainstrom’s attention.

Both sets of optics widen at the sight of you, drool still wet down your chin, optics glazed over with bite marks denting your neck cables. Down your legs is raw evidence of what possibly could’ve happened to you, with the transfluid staring brightly back at them.

Brainstorm is frozen in shock, completely blind to Perceptor rushing to your quaking form to help you sit down. Your words slurring, all he can manage to hear is ‘plans’ ‘made it’ ‘did..good.’

“Brainstorm don’t just sit there, bring them some energon!”

Perceptor helps clean you up, wiping away any coolant and spit from your face plate. His face burning when faced with the mess between your legs, he isn’t sure who or how this even happened but he will be raising several problems until he finds out.

Brainstorms coos softly at you, helping you drink the energon which you are swift to guzzle down, desperate for something to eat.

You could pass out right here and die one happy bot.

Though it’s hard to when Percy and Brainstorm are asking you so many questions, even arguing amongst each other.

#valveplug #smut #spicy #🔞🔞🔞#transformers x reader smut #transformers x cybertronian reader #transformers Megatron x reader smut #transformers lost light #transformers Megatron smut #transformers Megatron x reader #male reader #mdni blog #mdni

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writing-for-marvel · 2 days ago

Text

I’m back on the hurt train ready to get absolutely railed again

I’m pretty sure I said this in my first read of the chapter but the fact that your amazing mind chose to start and end this chapter, a fic about time loops, in flashbacks is actually genius

There was something almost like bemusement that appeared in the curl of Natasha’s lip, but she didn’t kick you out, which you took as a sign that your little outburst might have been closer to the truth than you’d really expected. You leaned back ever so slightly.

Oh this just feels so Nat, you’re characterisation feels so spot on, even down to the detail of her just needing to stare reader down and reader just keeps rambling like shes justifying herself

Then, without warning, she threw her glass at you.

You obviously can’t see me but I literally flinched out of the way reading this like it was me she had done this to 😂 but I love this scene with Nat so much, it’s such a *her* thing to do, the details are just perfect

“Yeah, I’m not gonna be able to do that,” you said flatly.

Literally took the words out of my mouth

So it appears you’ve gotten yourself stuck in some macabre version of Groundhog Day. Alright. Cool cool cool. You can work with that, probably. Maybe.

I love the inner monologue you have written, it’s honestly so refreshing and actually hilarious

It’s moments like these that make you miss Nat the most.

Stop it we can’t have more death and grief than we do already please

There was something about that woman that made everyone around her open up, whether they wanted to or not.

Literally flash back to what I said before about reader just rambling under her stare without her saying a single word

“Buck?” He huffs, even though he continues to wear his usual exasperated expression. “Did Sam hit you in the head?”

You raise your eyebrows in fake surprise. It’s so easy to fall back into your usual bickering, even with everything that’s going on. “You’re right, I don’t. Your cat probably got into my room again and let out her past week’s aggressions.”

“See, that’s exactly what she wants you to think.”

Eeeee they make me giddy 🥰🥰🥰

“Nope. This is my spot, too.”

“Great,” you sigh, angling yourself away from him. “I’ll be sure to make a reservation next time.”

I’m literally just giggling and kicking my feet every time they interact

“Try the floor,” Bucky says as you’re almost out of the room. He doesn’t turn when you do, but he seems to feel your questioning gaze. “If you can’t sleep. It helps, sometimes.”

Oh my baby 😭 just the thought of him sleeping on the floor for comfort actually hurts my soul

With a sigh, you get settled on the floor, staring up at the ceiling until your eyes get too tired.

Oh she takes his advice 🥺🥺🥺

When you see your own body still lying in bed next to where you’re standing, you almost trip over your own feet.

See I knew this was coming this time and yet it still felt like a shock to the system!!!

It’s one of your favorite comfort novels. You take good care of your books for the most part, but this one is quite battered; you’ve been bringing it with you on missions for years. A bit of home that fits into your pocket and helps calming you down on countless quinjet rides better than pictures ever could.

If someone comes into my room and insults one of my favourite books you can best believe I am finally learning to throw a punch and clock them in the jaw

“It happened because you activated the time stone,” Strange sneers. “Your powers are a lot stronger than you even care to realize, and it was idiotic to keep them a secret.”

She cares so much about Bucky that she’s activated the time stone??? Nika your mind wtf 🤯🤯🤯

He must have hit his head on the side of the big table, but the shield had protected him from the sharp edge. He’s pressing a hand to his wound and he’s conscious and fine. He’s fine.

I’m just sat here waiting with bated breath for this whole sequence

You fling your knife as fast as you can, but his single moment of hesitation was long enough for the trigger to be pulled a second time. You turn just in time to see the realization on Bucky’s face, the shock and panic in his eyes as they meet yours.

You’re telling me he dies in every rendition of this god damn day Nika it’s too painfulllllllll

Bucky figuring out that somethings wrong 😭😭 they barely spend any time together and yet he’s already worked her out 😭😭 don’t mind me imma just sob over here

Things were finally starting to look up.

Right just the kick to the gut I needed at the end of this torture (affectionate; I love it)

Nika I love it, I am after two chapters already pulling my hair out every time we have to see Bucky die, but the story itself is exceptional!!

Your writing style is absolutely gorgeous, I always feel so present in the moment with all of their conversations, all the characters feel so *real*, I adore them all

And I honestly can’t say enough about the magic system in place and readers powers, like I’m bewildered by how your gorgeous mind came to that. I can’t wait to dive more into it and learn the backstory behind it all

time after time [2]

series summary: After what starts out as a fairly normal mission, you find yourself stuck in a time loop. Which would already be bad enough in itself if it didn’t also mean having to watch Bucky die over and over again.

pairing: bucky barnes x f!reader

word count: 8.2k

chapter warnings: canon-typical violence, the angst continues, another reminder to read the fic premise; a couple of guest appearances; flashbacks are my establishing shots and i’m going to make it everyone’s problem

please note that my blog is rated 18+. minors dni. ageless/empty blogs will be blocked without warning.

a/n: 2am updates are kind of my brand at this point. big shout-out to @barnesafterglow who read a good chunk of this yesterday and is still talking to me <3 thank you all for your patience and your love for chapter one!!

series masterlist | main masterlist | read on ao3

two: twice upon a time

The first time you met Natasha Romanoff in person, a few weeks after the Snap, she only had to look at you for a couple of seconds to be able to read you like a book.

They’d compiled a file, of course, filled with all the general academic credits and official family information that was still available to the public and definitely more than a few things you’d tried to bury, too. Even then, the folder was reassuringly slim.

She’d have to take you at your word about what you’d come to offer her, anyway.

“And why would we want to have you?” she asked. As if she were interviewing you for a job. Which, technically speaking, she was.

You were on edge and Natasha knew it, even though you tried to hide your ever twitching fingers in your lap under the table, picking at the skin around your nails until you felt it break. You took a deep breath.

“Look, I know that I’m not exactly a soldier, or a—a superhero type, but I … I don’t know, I would just like to use my … thing to do good, for once. You know, stuff that will help people.”

And do it on your own terms. It stayed unsaid, then. You didn’t admit that part until much later.

Natasha’s face stayed perfectly neutral through your rambling, and you weren’t sure whether that was calming you down or making you more anxious. You reached for your necklace, tugging at the chain.

“But I can’t really do that on my own,” you continued, “and you, well, all of you, you’ve done it for a while and you’re good at it. And I think I could help with that.”

She still didn’t say anything, just kept waiting while you sat awkwardly in that uncomfortable office chair, regretting your decision of ever following through with your crazy impulsive idea of coming here.

But where else would you have gone?

“Also,” you remarked in a sudden burst of boldness, “I think you could use every extra pair of hands you can get at the moment.”

You couldn’t be sure, then, if she’d pieced together what little information they’d had on you in your file or if she’d just figured you out while you were sitting in this office, but it didn’t make all that much of a difference. She didn’t have to ask why you’d decided to offer up your abilities to the Avengers now, after everything, when they’d been hidden away for most of your life.

“You’re lonely. And you need a purpose, like all of us,” she said, looking you up and down apprehensively.

Then, without warning, she threw her glass at you.

You flinched to the side and it shattered on the wall behind you. The leftover drink slowly sank into the carpet as you turned to stare at her in shock.

Natasha lifted one of her perfectly trimmed eyebrows. “You wanna try that again?”

Really, you should’ve expected the test.

You closed your eyes and raised your hands.

It’s a strange experience, going back in time. No one had really asked you to describe what it was like, and you probably couldn’t have if you tried. It felt a little like retracing your own steps in your head, relocating your conscience to an earlier moment, second by second, in a rapid backwards motion. Like very vivid remembering. Only, it’s not just that.

“You’re lonely,” Natasha said, swirling the dregs of her glass, her green eyes tracing over you. “And you need a purpose, like all of us.”

You were expecting it this time, but the glass still slipped through your fingers and broke into tiny shards on the floor. Not good enough. You didn’t wait for her reaction this time, cursing under your breath and pulling yourself back again. As always, it took considerably more effort.

You tried your best not to stare at the glass while Natasha spoke, but you didn’t really listen anymore. This time, you caught it, even though its contents spilled over your hand.

Natasha smirked. “Not bad. First try?”

“This is when I lie to sound capable, right?” You shook the liquid off your fingers, sure she’d already noticed the sweat on your temples. No use in lying to a spy, anyway, you supposed, so you admitted, “Third.”

“We’ll work on that. But honesty’s a good start.” She held out her hand and you returned the glass. “Have you ever done combat training?”

You could barely stifle a nervous laugh. “Do I look like I’ve ever done combat training?”

“I don’t tend to judge people based on how they appear,” Natasha said, uncrossing her legs. “Come with me.”

You followed her back out of the office into the wide, empty hallway. You hadn’t seen anyone else around on the whole Compound, even though it could probably house hundreds of people on the ground floor alone. The clacking sound of your steps on the tiled floor seemed to echo all around you.

It felt like you were announcing yourself to everyone within a two-mile radius while Natasha moved around on her bare feet without a single sound.

A glass elevator took you down to the subterranean level of the building. Once the doors slid open, Natasha marched straight to a double door with square windows and large metal handlebars.

“Leave your shoes and bag by the door,” she told you. She waited for you to untie your laces and awkwardly wiggle out of your boots before she let you both in.

The Compound gym was even bigger than you’d expected. You weren’t sure if you were more surprised by that revelation or by the presence of a certain super soldier kicking the life out of a punching bag on the other side of the hall.

“Hey Rogers,” Natasha shouted as it got smacked to the ground. “Brought a new recruit!”

“Really?” he called back, unwrapping the bandages around his knuckles.

“Really?” you said. Sure, that was what you came here for, but even so, you were a little shocked it had been that simple.

“Like you said, we’re a little desperate at the moment,” she winked.

“I didn’t say that,” you muttered anxiously as Captain America jogged over to join you, a towel thrown over his shoulder. Despite his workout, he hadn’t even broken a sweat.

“Steve Rogers,” he said, holding out his hand with a smile.

You shook it, slightly bewildered, and introduced yourself. He repeated your name back at you and you had to take a moment to think how strange this whole situation was, even in all the madness that’d been going on. How unreal.

“I’m sure it’ll be good to have ya,” he said, and you almost laughed at the absurdity of it all. Thankfully, you caught yourself in time.

Meanwhile, Natasha had dragged one of the thick foam mats away from the heavy equipment and rolled it out. Cracking her neck, she stepped onto it and pushed her hair out of her face.

“Okay. Show me how you’d throw a punch.”

She held out her hands flat in front of her and nodded her head for you to join her on the mat. You’d never felt so stupid in your life as you tried to rack your brains for whatever little you took from those self-defense lessons however long ago. At least Captain Goddamn America seemed to be politely ignoring you in favor of putting some weights away.

“Just move on instinct, you’re not getting graded,” Natasha said calmly.

Your instincts were telling you you were absolutely getting graded and this was your worst idea to date, but you tried your best. She had you aim at different heights a few times before she stopped you.

“Okay, your posture’s terrible. You have to straighten your back and bend your knees more, see?” She demonstrated the right stance, waiting for you to copy her. “There you go. That’s your standard pose.”

“Alright,” you said, testing it out with a little bounce. “And what do I do with that?”

“Depends on what you’re trying to do. With the right training, you can use your own weight to your advantage in a fight. Steve?”

“Oh, great, am I volunteering?” He joined you on the mat and you moved to give the two of them enough space.

“You love it. Now watch me,” she added, looking at you.

Before Steve could even properly raise up his arms, Natasha launched into a handflip and somehow managed to wrap her legs around his body. The sudden movement made him stumble backwards. He lurched his body forwards to get her off his shoulders, but she used the momentum of her fall to kick him off his feet onto the mat. She gracefully landed on all fours like a cat. It looked effortless.

“You’re right,” Steve groaned, “this is very fun for me.”

“Yeah, I’m not gonna be able to do that,” you said flatly.

“I don’t expect you to,” Natasha said, pulling her hair behind her ears again. “But you do have to be able to survive in a fight, even without your powers, if you want to join the team. We can’t babysit you.”

You pressed your lips together, slowly curling your hands into fists and opening them again.

“Alright,” you said, your voice strangely dry. “When do we start?”

*****

Your initial reaction is relief.

Relief, because it’s Friday again, which means nothing has actually happened, which means Bucky is still alive.

Then, the implications of that fact hit you all at once.

You must’ve blacked out for a second or two, because when you open your eyes again, you’re lying on the floor next to your bed, heart still pounding a mile an hour. Your breath comes out in short gasps, and you force it to slow just in time for the knock on the door.

“Rise and shine, McFly! Time to get your ass kicked!”

“Just gimme a minute!” you shout back and stumble to the bathroom.

Your hands and face are speckled with blood and you wash it off furiously, biting your lip as the tiny cuts on your skin left by the glass shards burn under your touch. Turning off the faucet, you keep leaning onto the basin and stare at your hands.

You’re not sure what you expected. Your rings are still the blackest you’ve ever seen them, and the dimly glowing symbols keep slowly circling around your wrist. It doesn’t take you long to put two and two together, because once is a coincidence, a strange, fateful accident, but twice is a pattern. And of course you’ve heard about this kind of thing happening. Only not like this.

Life everlasting.

No. Definitely not like this.

So it appears you’ve gotten yourself stuck in some macabre version of Groundhog Day. Alright. Cool cool cool. You can work with that, probably. Maybe.

“Did you get lost in there?” Sam remarks with a grin when you finally step out of your room, still looking slightly disheveled.

“I—” You stop yourself, blinking at him until he starts looking slightly concerned.

“You alright? You look …” His eyebrows raise even higher. “Shell-shocked.”

Well, this isn’t exactly an everyday occurence even for me, Samuel, you want to tell him. Instead, you say, “Don’t ever wake me up like that again.” It lacks yesterday’s punch.

“Sweet white teenage angst not your style?”

You hum, but don’t reply otherwise, still lost in thought as you climb the stairs, trying to assess your situation and come up with some sort of plan.

It’s fairly obvious you fucked up your reset the other day. So much for the precious space-time continuum; oh, you hate it when the wizard people are right every now and then.

You glance sideways at Sam while he stretches his back in the ring. He seems fine, completely normal, unaware of what’s going on with you, and of course he would be. Nothing unusual about that part of your powers. Or what’s left of them.

You raise your hands experimentally.

“I’m not high-fiving you until you get one kick in, at least.”

Not even the slightest hitch. It’s like your powers have just up and left you completely. A strange heaviness settles in your stomach. Fucking useless.

You avert your burning eyes from Sam’s gaze.

It’s not like you … talk.

None of you do, not really. Sure, you chat. You’re great at chatting. You’ve had years, countless tries of perfecting smalltalk, of knowing the things you can get away with saying to certain people. It’s made you reckless in the past, knowing you could probably replay entire conversations in the blink of an eye, the pressure of expectation gone completely.

Ever since you started coming out of hiding again, though, the fun has drizzled out of that more and more. It’s one thing to impress strangers and another to be several steps ahead of the people you’ve started to consider your friends.

Because even though sometimes it sure would be easier, having people un-live conversations they’ve had with you, particularly hard or emotional ones, is sort of a shitty move if you continue to spend your time around them afterwards. And you’ve grown determined to not intentionally hurt people with your powers. Not anymore.

So yes, you chat. You know Sam’s favorite color and the video games his nephews want for their birthdays. You know what kind of music Bucky listens to, mostly because he forgets to turn on the soundproofing in his room and Jazz trumpets are surprisingly loud. You know their habits, the foods they like, the movies they hate.

But you don’t … share. Nothing that goes deeper than the general stuff.

It’s moments like these that make you miss Nat the most.

There was something about that woman that made everyone around her open up, whether they wanted to or not. You’re almost resolved to call her as soon as you get back to your room before you remember.

You’re gonna have to do this on your own. Back to square one.

“What is up with you today?”

“I’m fine,” you grunt, but make no effort to get back up again. “Didn’t sleep well. Ow.” You narrow your eyes at Sam. “Did you just kick me?”

“I wanted to see if you’re still alive.”

“Horrible. I’m quitting. You can go spar with Bucky again.”

“At least he puts up a fight.” Sam crouches down next to you. “Anything you wanna tell me?”

Yes. You shake your head. He probably wouldn’t believe you, anyway.

“Alright,” he says, clapping you on the shoulder. You scrunch your nose. “I’m gonna hit the showers. But we’re doing a rain check for tomorrow, and you sort out your pea under the mattress situation.”

“Okay.”

You listen to Sam’s receding steps and the sound of the door opening and closing again. Then, there’s nothing but silence and the ticking of the clock on the far wall.

Even though you know you should probably just head out as well, you can’t help but linger again. Just in case.

“You look like shit.”

Your head rolls to the side. Fuck you, Barnes. “Hey, Buck.”

Same spot on the bench next to the ring, same hunched over position, same concentrated look on his face while he cleans up the shimmering golden nooks in his arm.

“Buck?” He huffs, even though he continues to wear his usual exasperated expression. “Did Sam hit you in the head?”

You don’t answer, just keep staring at his profile for a little while longer. Your eyes are drawn to the nape of his neck, to the center of his chest. You bite the inside of your cheek so hard it hurts.

“What’re you lookin’ at?” Bucky says lowly. You turn your gaze back to the ceiling.

“Nothing,” you answer, pulling an arm over your eyes. The sweatband rubs against your eyebrow.

Maybe, you think, just maybe, it could still be a fluke. Only one more time to get things right, and then all will just go back to normal. Maybe you’ll be fine today. He’ll be fine.

There’s a buzzing in your ears, and you’re not sure if it comes from the green symbols gyrating around your arm or if you’re just imagining it altogether.

“What happened to your face?” Bucky asks unexpectedly, casually, as if he were talking about the weather.

“What do you mean?”

“You look like you dove head-first into a rose bush.”

“Hah.” You slowly sit up, your muscles aching for a hot shower. Three days of training and fighting in a row are not agreeing with your body. “Must’ve scratched myself in my sleep.”

If he sees through your lie, he doesn’t call you out on it. “Didn’t know you have talons.”

“My cat slept soundly, thank you very much,” Bucky says dryly.

“See, that’s exactly what she wants you to think.”

“Funny.” He stands up, hanging the piece of cloth over the side of the boxing ring to air out. “Take the towel on the right, I already used the other one.”

“Thanks, Buck,” you say with a smirk. He ignores you.

***

The shower is what brings your mood back down again. In the silence of the water hitting your back, there’s enough time for you to think about the upcoming day that you’ve already been through twice.

Up until the mission, it’s gone by fine, unremarkably so, which only makes the build-up to the evening even worse, in your opinion. You face the stream of hot water directly, trying to rid yourself of the image of Bucky lying on the floor, bleeding out in front of you.

You need to be rational about this.

First, you need to figure out what’s going on with your powers. Then, you have to make up your mind about lunch, because while you don’t exactly resent the thought of your third pizza in as many days, your stomach sadly doesn’t agree with that notion. And finally, you’re going to break this damn cycle you’re in. Easy as that.

You turn off the shower with your newfound resolve and grab the clean towel.

Your determination lasts up until you get back to your room and realize you don’t actually know how you are going to fix your powers. They’ve always been somewhat fickle, unpredictable even to you, acting up whenever it’s most inconvenient. Impossible.

No one has ever been able to tell you where they came from, nor how you could properly control them. Everything you know you had to figure out through trial and error, replaying the same scenario over and over again, and, more often than not, lucky coincidences.

Usually, when your rings are black and your powers are weakened, it helps to let your body regain its strength first. In other words, you need to sleep.

This is something you probably should have thought through before getting your morning coffee with an extra shot of espresso, out of habit, but that’s not something you can change right now.

The living room area wouldn’t usually be your first choice for a midday nap, but you’re not ready to face the bloodstains on your bedding quite yet, so you’ll have to make do with one of the suspiciously IKEA-looking throw pillows on the couch. The TV is chattering away in the background, just loud enough to somewhat distract you from your own thoughts.

It’s not enough to fall asleep, though.

You keep tossing and turning, half-listening to three or four episodes of some nineties sitcom, while your anxiety gnaws away at your insides. There’s a constant low pounding in your head that drives you up the wall, and again you swear you can hear the symbols looping around your wrist. You keep scratching at your sweatband, but it’s no use.

You don’t know how much time has passed before the pattering of small paws makes you sigh in disdain.

There’s an obnoxiously loud meowing close to your feet, followed by a sudden weight dropping on your stomach that almost invites your garlic bread back up for a double feature. You peer out at the white shape on top of you, innocently toying with the hem of your shirt.

In general, you like cats just fine, but something about Alpine has always unsettled you. Sure, she’s a cute-looking ball of fluff, but she’s also quick to scratch unsuspecting people bending down to pet her, and she seems to have a particular bone to pick with you.

“Maybe she’s just a good judge of character,” Sam jokes whenever you complain about it.

“She doesn’t like you any better.”

“Yeah, but I’m allergic to her,” Sam shrugs. “The farther she stays away, the more a favor it’s doing me.”

In truth, the only person Alpine likes is Bucky, and she loves to show it every chance she gets.

“You’re in her spot.”

Alpine graciously allows you to push up to your elbows with a groan. Bucky’s tall figure is looming over your head; there’s a bemused expression on his face. He must’ve just walked in through the door, because he’s still wearing his jacket.

“Why does the cat need a spot on the couch, exactly?” You try to shoo her off your lap, but Alpine digs her claws deeper into your shorts and you wince. “You really need to teach her manners.”

“You gotta be gentle with her,” Bucky says, pulling her off you without a hitch. “Move over.”

You swing your legs off the couch with a roll of your eyes. “Can’t you sit somewhere else?”

“Nope. This is my spot, too.”

“Great,” you sigh, angling yourself away from him. “I’ll be sure to make a reservation next time.”

Alpine starts purring as Bucky scratches her under the chin. “You watchin’ that?”

“I was trying to nap,” you mumble, throwing him the remote with a little more force than necessary. “What time is it, anyway?”

“Thirteen twelve hours.”

“Please stop just saying numbers when I ask you that.”

Bucky smirks again and switches channels. “Quarter past one-ish.”

You blink at him tiredly, surprised to find out he’s been back so early. The past two days, you didn’t see him around again until the broadcast was about to start. Then again, you didn’t really pay attention at that point, either.

There’s that tick in his jaw that he always gets when something is bothering him, even as he’s distracted by a playful cat in his lap. You’d better relieve him of the burden of your presence.

“Well,” you say, standing up. Alpine whines indignantly at the sudden movement. “I’ll try to find a cat-free spot in this tower, then.”

“Try the floor,” Bucky says as you’re almost out of the room. He doesn’t turn when you do, but he seems to feel your questioning gaze. “If you can’t sleep. It helps, sometimes.”

You hide your hands in your pants pockets, even though it’s far too late by now. He’s already noticed your black rings.

With a short hum, you briskly walk back to your room, leaning against the door as it closes behind you. This is getting ridiculous, you think, worrying the ring on your pinkie finger with your thumb. As if you didn’t have enough reasons to get a hold of your powers again; you don’t know what you would do if Bucky really got suspicious of you now.

Taking a deep breath, you eye your bed. Compared to yesterday, the blood stains on your sheets are barely more than a few specks, because you weren’t as close to Bucky when it happened. Somehow, that doesn’t make you feel any better.

“Fine,” you mutter in annoyance, grabbing one of your pillows and throwing it on the floor next to your bed. “FRIDAY, can you wake me in time for Sam’s speech?”

“Of course,” FRIDAY tells you. “Do you want me to use the same song as this morning?”

“Please don’t.” A little idea pipes up at the back of your head. “Do you have any record of playing that song before?”

“Last dates played. Friday, July 4th 2025, 07:50 a.m. Playtime: forty-five seconds. Thursday, March 13th 2014, 02:49 a.m. Playtime: one hour, twenty-seven minutes, eighteen seconds. End of record.”

Interesting night for Tony, then, but not exactly telling when it comes to your time loop situation. With a sigh, you get settled on the floor, staring up at the ceiling until your eyes get too tired.

You’ll think of something once you’ve had a bit of sleep. He’ll be fine.

And then, just as you’re finally about to drift off, you feel a sudden jolt go through you. It’s a bizarre sensation, like you’re falling and jumping at the same time, but your body isn’t actually moving with you. Like someone pulling at your very consciousness.

Your eyes fly open and you gasp for air.

You’re still in your room, which should be good news, but everything looks … weird. Not as out of focus as it would be if you were simply dreaming, but somehow crooked, the angles unusually pronounced. The colors are all off, the lights way lower than they should be this time of day, and when you reach out for the edge of your bed, your hands—

You take a sharp breath. Your fingers are bare, no trace of your rings anywhere, and even worse, your hands are partly transparent. Cautiously, you get up on your equally as see-through legs and turn around.

When you see your own body still lying in bed next to where you’re standing, you almost trip over your own feet.

You stare at yourself in disbelief. One of your body’s hands is tucked under the pillow, and it’s breathing regularly. Carefully, you take a step closer and reach out your noncorporeal hand. Your shoulder feels warm and solid underneath your fingertips.

Your body wrinkles its nose in its sleep and you jerk back again, losing your balance and falling to the floor. Your body doesn’t react at all, even though you pull part of the blanket with you as you go down.

“Okay. This is a dream,” you tell yourself, even though you feel your heart pounding. “Just some weird-ass dream, and I have to wake up.” Again, you can’t help but look at the sleeping body lying in your bed.

You press your hands over your eyes, willing yourself to slow your breathing. The edge of your nightstand jabs you painfully between the shoulder blades, too real to be nothing more than an act of your imagination.

“You’re not what I expected.”

The man’s voice makes you flinch slightly. Slowly, you peek through your fingers.

You either didn’t notice him while you were taking in your surroundings or he’s just blended in with them seamlessly, although you’re not sure how that last one could even be a possibility. His back is turned to you, his frame covered by a long, deep red cloak with intricate patterns stitched along the seams. He’s perusing your bookshelf, picking up old copies seemingly at random.

For some reason, your shock at the sight of him is outweighed by immediate irritation. Something about the man instantly irks you.

“Thanks, I think,” you tell him, throwing the edge of the blanket over your sleeping body again as you get up, never letting the man out of your sight.

He turns around, one of his eyebrows raised. Your eyes immediately fall on the amulet around his neck and your heart gives a stutter. You ignore it.

“Not a compliment.” He holds up a book. “This is how you spend your time, then?”

“Sue me for trying to relax in between saving the world,” you say, crossing your arms.

“Of course,” the man says wryly. “Because god forbid you use those powers of yours to their full extent, we wouldn’t want that.”

“And what’s it to you?” you snap.

The man calmly puts the book down again; not where he picked it up from, you notice in annoyance.

“My name is Doctor Stephen Strange,” he says, watching your face for your reaction. “Ah, so you have heard of me.”

Of course you have. You know who he is, you must’ve seen his picture hundreds of times during the Blip, and even before that, you’d heard about his reputation. As one of the keepers of the time stone back when it still existed, he’s on your list of people you least want to see, ever.

You narrow your eyes at him. “How did you find me? What—” You take a quick look back at your own sleeping form. “What is this place?”

“The astral plane,” he says, swiping your bookshelf for dust and inspecting his fingertips contemptuously. They’re shaking ever so slightly. “Something you would know if you hadn’t spent the past decade avoiding every single chance to use your powers responsibly.”

“Wow,” you huff. “You don’t know anything about me or about my powers.”

“Don’t I, Y/N Y/L/N?” Strange’s cloak flaps slightly as if it were shrugging.

“I spent the last couple of years trying to save lives.”

“You’re riding on luck and pretend it’s control. You have no idea what this could do to the grand scheme of things.”

“Well, I never asked for these powers, okay?” you say defensively. “I just have them. What I don’t have is any interest in being a pawn in some grand scheme of things when I never wanted any of this.”

“People don’t generally get a choice in that matter.” His gaze drops to your wrist. “And now look where your resistance to accept your responsibilities got you.”

The green band of symbols is still leisurely circling around your arm. You bite your tongue. “I don’t know how that happened,” you say, your voice breaking slightly on the last word.

“It happened because you activated the time stone,” Strange sneers. “Your powers are a lot stronger than you even care to realize, and it was idiotic to keep them a secret.”

“Why, so you could use them for your own gain?”

“So I could prevent this exact kind of thing from happening.”

You throw your hands in the air in frustration. “So end it, then. Or did you drag me here just to berate me?”

Strange chuckles humorlessly. “This is not something others can just fix for you, Miss Y/L/N. You cast a very powerful spell in creating this loop, and you are the only one who can lift it again.”

“Great. I’m screwed, then, is that what you’re saying?” You might not be inside of your body at the moment, but you can still feel your cheeks heating up. “I want you to leave me the fuck alone.”

“You need to calm down,” Stange says sharply.

“Don’t tell me to calm down, get out of my—head, or whatever this is. Get out!”

“Alright then. Continue to play stubborn. See how far it gets you.” He holds out his right hand and there’s a crack in the air behind him; almost like a doorway, or a mirror. “I’ll be here when you’re done acting like a child.”

You come to on your bedroom floor, feeling almost more tired than you did when you laid down earlier. It takes your bleary eyes a moment to adjust to your surroundings again. When you sit up, a thin throw blanket that you don’t remember pulling over your shoulders falls into your lap.

This really is just a whole bunch of disasters stacked on top of each other.

You don’t even have to look at your rings to know there’s still not the slightest green spec in sight. Your fingers find your necklace and you tug slightly to reassure yourself of its presence. How the hell did Strange even find you?

There’s no time to think about it for too long, because once again, there’s a knock at your bedroom door.

“We got a lead on that lab,” Sam shouts on the other side. “Jet’s leaving in half an hour, get ready.”

You blink at the clock on your wall in confusion. Even though you feel like you only spent a couple of minutes in this other dimension you were dragged into, several hours have passed in this one.

Time is seriously out of your hands, and it’s only getting worse.

***

“Don’t you think that maybe they have an alarm set or something?” you say, contemplating the explosives laid out in front of you.

Sam raises his eyebrows, adjusting the intercom chip in his ear. “Is that a hunch or are you telling me?”

“Both.” You flex your fingers. “It’s just that announcing ourselves probably isn’t in our best interest right now.”

“And you couldn’t have said that earlier? As in, before we landed?” Sam sighs.

Bucky snorts as you shrug your shoulders helplessly. Your body desperately needed the half hour of uneasy sleep the flight has afforded it, even though your powers seem to be unimpressed by it.

“Look, it’s gonna be fine,” Sam continues, squeezing your arm. “We’ve handled worse. Besides, if they do have an alarm set, they’re gonna come to us whether we knock down that wall or not.”

“I guess,” you mumble, grabbing the explosives. “Let’s play knock-knock with terrorists then, that oughtta be fun.”

“Reminds me of ‘44,” Bucky says, more to himself than to either of you.

When you follow Sam down the hallway once again, you can’t help but search for the cameras you know are hidden here somewhere, but it’s impossible to tell in the dingy light. You should bring a stronger flashlight next ti—no.

You blink, stopping that thought before it’s fully formed.

There won’t be a next time. This thing ends tonight, once and for all.

Third time’s the charm, right?

About as charming as a kick to the face, you think as you find yourself delivering just that.

Sam takes off. “We better get moving. If you take care of the drive and these idiots, I’ll clear the tunnels for a way out of here!”

Bucky catches Sam’s shield as you disarm the white jacket with the knife and duck as the shots ring out. You’re sweating in your kevlar vest.

“Two o’clock, Bucky,” you tell him, throwing another punch. You’re so sick of this white-coated asshole in particular; it’s like they think you’re in the rumble from West Side Story. “And whatever you do, don’t throw that shield, alright?”

“You’re bossy today,” Bucky huffs, taking out the one with the blaster.

“I think you mean thorough,” you reply as Riff finally goes out cold.

“You tell yourself that.” He reloads his gun instead, shield firmly locked around his right arm. “How much longer for the transfer?”

You glance at the monitors and try to remember. “About a minute, maybe two.”

“Sam, you copy?” The last white jacket goes down.

“Ready for take-off in five,” Sam confirms cheerfully. “Heads-up, there’s at least another dozen heading your way.”

“Got it.” Bucky bumps your shoulder as he starts back towards the computers, leaving you only a second to process the different turnout of events.

Shouldn’t he insist on leaving?

The only thing that differentiates this mission from the first one is that you haven’t had to jump back to know what to look out for, and therefore don’t suffer the immediate side effects a redo usually has on you. You suppose that’s what they initially expected your powers to be like; flawless, useful, magical.

It’s like a slap in the face, even though Bucky doesn’t realize he’s doing it. The fact that he really does think lesser of you because of your stupid, faulty powers stings more than you care to admit.

You shake yourself back to the present moment. “Take the drive and then get away from there!” you shout, trying to catch up with him. Your lungs are burning. “They’re gonna blow up the—”

The blast of the explosion throws you backwards and you land on one of the unconscious bodies on the ground. Coughing, you roll to your hands and knees.

“Wha—ppening?” Sam’s cut off voice comes through the broken comms.

“Bucky?” You stumble towards the flaming mess that was the lab corner.

He must have hit his head on the side of the big table, but the shield had protected him from the sharp edge. He’s pressing a hand to his wound and he’s conscious and fine. He’s fine.

You can’t stop a relieved laugh as you crouch down next to him. “Wanna get out of here or what?”

The reflection of the flames makes his eyes almost look green as he squints at you, groaning. “Geez, I hate you.”

“Come on, tough guy,” you say and he lets you pull him to his feet, almost toppling over at his unsteadiness. “Let’s get you home.”

You keep turning around as you make your way to the tunnels, keep looking back towards the staircase you came down, worrying about the reinforcements Sam told you about. Maybe that’s your mistake.

Because you haven’t made it this far before, you don’t think to check that the unconscious white jackets are all still unconscious.

You still have Bucky’s shield arm around your shoulder as he jerks, sensing the motion on his left before you do. He catches the first bullet with his metal arm as you twist out of your hold on him, grabbing your knife and whirling back around. He makes a side step, taking a big swing—

Only you told him not to throw the shield.

And then you wake up with a start to the sun in your face and–

“Okay, alright, turn it off, FRIDAY!”

By the time you wipe your mouth and flush the toilet with shaky knees, hair and face still caked with blood, you’re finally starting to understand how well and truly screwed you are.

***

You lean against the fridge, staring at Sam while he’s typing away at the kitchen island. He likes working standing up for some reason, particularly when he has to write some sort of statement.

“If I have to give the speech standing up, I’ve gotta write it standing up,” he’s explained it to you once. You can’t pretend to get it, but you suppose it’s also a perk to be within an arm’s length of snacks at all times while you’re getting stuff done.

“What do you want?” Sam says evenly. His gaze remains fixed on his laptop, his fingers never stopping to move.

You bite your lip. It’s a bad, very bad, terrible idea. You shouldn’t be bothering him with your fuck-up. You don’t even know how to go about it without having him laugh in your face.

“What if I told you that I’m stuck in a time loop?”

The question comes out weirdly flat, as if you’re joking. Fuck, what’s happening to you? You’ve always been fine with being the person who knows more than anyone else in the room. This situation though …

It’s different. It unrattles you in a way your powers never have, because even though it’s your own doing, it also seems so out of your control.

Sam raises an eyebrow, still not looking up. “I’d ask when you started drinking today and why you did it without me.”

Honestly, you should have expected something along these lines as long as you have no way of proving it to him.

“Well,” you say light-heartedly, as if you’re merely chitchatting. “What would you do if you were reliving the same day over and over again?”

“Enjoy my time off, probably,” Sam says, rubbing his eyes with the palms of his hands.

“I’m serious.”

“And I’m starving. Shouldn’t the food be here by now?”

You check your phone. “About half a minute.”

It gives you an idea for the future.

Lo and behold. You startle the poor delivery guy, opening the front door right before he can knock. “Hi,” you smile, handing him a generous tip. “We don’t know each other, right?”

“Uhm. What?”

“Do you have like, two minutes?”

“Did you have to haggle for them, first?” Sam calls over when you finally make it back to the kitchen, closing his laptop and helping you put down the boxes and containers on the counter.

“Had to convert to Pastafarianism,” you say, getting out the cutlery. “Ready for blasphemy?”

Sam chuckles.

By the time lunch is done and Sam has left for Madison Square Garden, another wave of exhaustion catches up with you. You pull your rings off and leave them on the table before you lie down on the second couch in the living room area, hoping that maybe this time, you’ll get a little bit of rest.

Only once again, it’s no use. Every time you close your eyes, you’re back in the lab, watching Bucky get shot. The background buzz of the TV isn’t loud enough to drown out the sound of your cursed memories.

Or the sound of the cat whining next to your ear.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.”

Alpine settles on your chest this time, leaving long white hairs all over your shirt and hitting you in the face with her tail. You grimace, trying not to inhale any of her fur.

“You’re in her spot.”

You don’t bother turning your aching head. “I thought her spot was over there!” you say accusingly, gesturing vaguely to the other side of the living room.

“Who told you that?” Bucky says, a bemused tone in his voice as he scoops Alpine up in his gloved hands, careful not to touch you. “Move over.”

You blink at him. You did.

You feel his expectant glare on you and sigh.

“Really, you too? We have plenty of room, you know.” You pull your knees in.

“I do,” he says, sitting down next to you and reaching underneath the cushions. “But you’re always hoggin’ the remote.”

You put your cold feet on his thigh in retaliation. Bucky tenses.

“How are you so cold, it’s like ninety degrees outside.”

“Emphasis on outside,” you shrug. “I just run cold.”

“That you do.” He switches channels, then pulls his gloves off and puts them on the table next to your rings.

You bite the inside of your cheek and roll to the floor inelegantly. Alpine meows in disdain, like a knife scratching the whole diameter of a dinner plate.

“Please tell your cat to chill, geez,” you mumble, slumping down on the other couch and stretching your legs out again with a contented sigh.

Bucky doesn’t reply.

“My dear girl,” a thickly accented voice on the TV says, “you cannot keep bumping your head against reality and saying it is not there. The evidence was definite. We can’t remove it by wishing or crying.”

“He trusted me,” a female voice answers. “I led him into a trap, I convicted him. Is that real enough for you?”

“There is no one to blame,” the first voice continues. “The case was a little deeper than you figured. This often happens. You must realize now one thing, it is over for both of you.”

“What are you watching?” you ask.

There’s a short pause before Bucky answers. “Hitchcock. Spellbound.”

You can’t help your reaction.

“Why’d you just do that?” Bucky says.

You stare at the ceiling. “Do what?”

“You flinched.”

“Did not.” You can taste blood in your mouth.

“Why won’t you look at me?”

You turn to the side and demonstratively stare at him, even though it makes your insides twist. Bucky’s face doesn’t change at all as he gazes back at you, frown deepening between his eyebrows. It’s like he’s trying to drown you with the endless blue of his eyes.

You drop your gaze and shake your head.

“What’s your point, Bucky? Not everyone likes staring at people like you do.”

“Why not?”

“Because it’s weird. And invasive.”

“It’s invasive to look at you?”

“Yes,” you say, “if you do it like that.”

“Like what?”

“I don’t know!” You sit back up again in exasperation. “What do you want from me, Bucky?”

You look at his face this time, not his eyes. It still makes your cheeks burn, because his jaw sets that way again and he doesn’t immediately respond.

“Something’s wrong,” he says, finally, and you hide your face between your hands in what you can only hope looks like frustration. Then you realize that that’s only making your missing rings more obvious.

“Nothing’s wrong,” you snap, balling your hands into fists.

“Tell me.”

“I don’t have anything to tell you!”

“You promised,” Bucky says coolly. “Remember?”

Your stomach plummets.

“Yes,” you say, forcing your voice to stay calm. “But I’ll take care of it. You don’t have to worry. I’ve got this.”

You feel his eyes on your back all the way to your room, and you’re not sure if you’re lying to him or to yourself, even as you slam the door behind you and look anywhere but your bed.

Your book is lying in the wrong place.

*****

“Honestly, Nat, you could’ve killed her.”

“Don’t be dramatic. She’s made of stronger stuff than that.”

There were yellow dots dancing across your vision when you opened your eyes, groaning at the bright neon lights hitting you in the face.

You were lying on the mat in the gym of the Compound and your nose had been ripped clean off; at least that was what it felt like. Judging by your red-soaked shirt, your guess wasn’t that far off, though.

“Hey,” Natasha said, kneeling down next to you. “Sorry, that must hurt like a bitch.”

“Your head is bery solid,” you replied, touching the blood still dribbling down your face. “Ow.”

“Thank you,” she said and handed you a wet towel. “Put that in your neck and lean your head back.”

“Di’ I faind?”

“You knocked yourself out, honey,” she said with a sly grin.

“It isn’t funny, Nat,” Steve shouted. You snorted, then winced in pain.

“Don’t worry,” Natasha winked. “You’re gonna be as pretty as before once you clean up. Already reset your nose while you were out.”

“Thangs.”

Surprisingly, this was the first serious injury you’d sustained in the past couple of weeks you’ve been living as a rookie Avenger; though in truth, that was mostly due to the fact that Natasha had only had you build up your stamina and agility up until today. Your first proper day in the ring was nothing short of humiliating.

“You could always go back to the moment before you decided to headbutt me,” Natasha said once the bleeding had finally stopped.

You wiped your nose carefully, taking a few breaths to clear your airways. “Sadly, that’s not how it works,” you said, letting her help you slowly come upright again. “I’m the one moving through time, so I stay exactly the same. I can help you guys avoid the punches, but I’ll still be the one receiving them.”

Cursed to stay the same, just like you’d always said.

Natasha tilted her head. “That seems like something you could work on with proper help.”

You grimaced. “I’ve tried that before. There’s no one who can help me, no one who can … fix me, or my powers.”

There was worry in her eyes, then, and you were taken aback by how genuine it seemed. It left a crack in your shell.

“I don’t think that’s true,” she said quietly.

But it was. “I mean it,” you said, your lip twitching. “You can’t tell them that I’m here. For all they know, I got dusted just like everyone else.”

She knew; it had been the one condition you’d set in exchange for your help. That didn’t mean she had to like it.

There was a prolonged pause until Natasha nodded. “All the more reason to get you proper training,” she said, getting back to her feet and helping you up. “Let’s get you some ice cream. Good for the healing.”

You smiled when both she and Steve kept worrying about you the entire way to the kitchen, even though both of them tried hard not to make it obvious. It still filled you with a strange sense of warmth that almost had you forget about the pain.

You were safe here.

Things were finally starting to look up.

chapter three

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#fic rec #Bucky Barnes fic rec #by intrepidacious

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crushpunky · 1 day ago

Text

toxic!reader and rafe vs the pogues

masterlist

your fave psycho girl is back :) warning: brief nudity, swearing, + vaping

Y/n laid on one of the Cameron family’s lounges, the sun warm against her skin as she basked in its golden rays. She’d opted to ditch her swim top, hoping to even out her complexion since it was just her and Rafe. She’d been nagging at Rafe for weeks, trying to get him to invite her over to hang out by the pool and he had finally caved.

Sprawled out on a lounge next to her, Rafe’s swim shorts rode up to show the golden tan of his legs as he scrolled through his phone. Y/n found her eyes lingering on his sweat glistened body, biting her lip subconsciously with each and every shift of his muscles.

“Pool. Fuckin’. Day.” A voice shouted from the patio, causing Rafe and y/n’s heads to whip around to see the Pogue’s making their way out to the pool deck. With a slight yelp, y/n quickly turned back and scrambled for her towel, holding it against her bare chest as JJ shucked his t-shirt off before jumping into the pool with a holler. A shower of water coated the pool deck, splattering y/n and Rafe.

“What the hell are you doing here?” Rafe said, his teeth gritted as he slammed his phone down on the lounger. Y/n grabbed his discarded t-shirt, quickly throwing it on as Rafe crossed the pool deck to stop in front of his sister.

“What am I doing here? I live here, asshole.” Sarah snapped, spreading her towel out on the concrete. Y/n scoffed before she was even able to stop herself. At the sound, Sarah’s eyes immediately darted to her before narrowing.

“Oh of course she’s here.” Sarah sneered, crossing her arms over her chest. Y/n rolled her eyes before flipping Sarah off.

“Hey,” Rafe said, snapping his fingers to get Sarah’s attention back on him, “you and your dirty fuckin Pogue friends need to get out of here. I’ve got the pool for the day and I’m going to decide who can and can’t be here, a’ight?”

“Who put you in charge?” Sarah scoffed. “Dad leaves for one fuckin’ day and all of a sudden you think you’re in charge of—”

“I am in fuckin’ charge—” Rafe snapped back, taking a step closer to his sister.

“Hey, dude, you need to back off.” John B said, placing a hand on Rafe’s shoulder.

“Jesus Christ!” Y/n snapped, finally getting up from her lounger and stepping between John B and Rafe as they started shoving at each other. “Cut it out! I wanted one day— one fucking day— to relax and tan and get drunk and you have to interrupt it. I mean seriously, Sarah, you knew we were gonna be here—”

“I did not!” Sarah scoffed.

“You did, don’t act like you’re the victim here.” Y/n sneered, rolling her eyes. She looked past Sarah at Kiara and JJ, floating in the pool alongside Pope and Cleo who watched the siblings arguing with wide eyes. God she hated the Pogues, I mean hated, but she also knew neither of the Cameron siblings were gonna back down from this without a fight and, honestly, she didn’t want to have to deal with that on her day of relaxation.

“But,” y/n pressed a hand to her temple, not even believing the words she was about to say, “I guess we can share.”

“What?!” Rafe scoffed, his voice sharp as John B and Sarah looked at y/n with surprised looks on their faces.

“I’m honestly too tired at this point to give a fuck, Rafe.” Y/n sighed, adjusting her sunglasses. “As long as you’re quiet— and I mean silent— it’s fine.”

“Ok that seems… perfectly reasonable, right Sarah?” John B said, nodding as he looked over at Sarah, who continued to shoot daggers at y/n. “Right, Sarah?”

“Yes. Fine.” Sarah spat. “I’ll be quiet in my pool at my house with my friends so you, who don't even live here by the way, can have a nice day of relaxation, princess.”

“Perfect.” Y/n smiled sweetly. “That wasn’t so hard, now, was it?”

Sarah rolled her eyes once more before turning on her heels to lay down on her beach towel. Rafe ran a hand down his face with a groan before turning to y/n.

“Seriously?” Rafe seethed. “You’re just gonna let them interrupt our day?”

“I’m past the point of giving a fuck, so yes, I am going to let them ‘interrupt’ our day.” Y/n sighed before making her way back to her lounger. She dug through her beach bag, pulling out her vape before settling back into her seat.

“Never thought I’d see the day where you went soft.” Rafe muttered as he sat next to her, a scowl on his face as he watched the Pogues splash around in the water. Y/n chuckled slightly before hitting her vape, inhaling and exhaling deeply as she sank into her previous, comfortable position. She allowed her eyes to close, rolling out her neck and allowing herself to relax.

“Are you gonna take your top off again, y/n?” JJ chirped from the pool, sending y/n’s eyes open. Pope delivered a smack to the back of JJ’s head. Rafe was already scrambling to his feet, swearing as y/n quickly grabbed onto his arm. She dug her fingernails into the skin of his bicep, able to stop him just enough to prevent him from diving into the water. Without a second of hesitation, y/n shucked her top off before jumping into the water… directly on top of JJ.

He let out a yelp as she collided with his body, sending the rest of the pool into a panic as she grappled with JJ. The two of them pushed at each other, attempting to grab at the other and remain above the water. Y/n slapped at his skin, JJ trying to shield himself from the harsh scrapes of her nails as he struggled not to drown in the water, keeping his hands up. Rafe jumped into the water, swimming over to the two of them.

“Get the fuck off of me!” JJ shouted, delivering a shove that allowed him enough space to escape y/n’s flailing arms. “You’re fucking crazy!”

“I’ll show you fuckin’ crazy you Pogue bitch!” Y/n went to jump at JJ again, but Rafe was able to grab her waist just in time, hauling her back towards the edge of the pool. He spun her around, turning her bare chest to face him and holding her firmly against his body.

“Jesus Christ!” Sarah spat, her and John B helping a heaving JJ out of the pool. “Fine, we’ll fucking leave you psychos.”

The rest of the Pogues clamored out of the pool, grabbing their bags and towels. As JJ got to his feet, y/n noticed the fresh scratches adorning his arms and chest.

“What the fuck were you thinking?!” Rafe seethed, looking down at y/n as she looked up at him with a wicked grin. The Pogues rushed out of the backyard of Tanneyhill, their complaints falling on deaf ears as y/n pulled herself out of the pool.

“Well, we’ve got to the pool to ourselves now, do we not?” Y/n giggled before walking back to her lounger with a smirk.

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron x toxic!reader #toxic!reader #rafe cameron x reader

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justcat-judging · 17 hours ago

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₊ ⊹ 𝐂𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐭𝐞 𝐎𝐩𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐢𝐭𝐞! ⊹ ₊

˚ʚY/N told them her ideal type which was the complete opposite of them. ɞ˚

˚ʚKaiser Micheal x Reader, Ness Alexis x Reader(seperate)ɞ˚

˚ʚpt.5, pt.1, pt.2, pt.3, pt.4ɞ˚

---

₊ ⊹ 𝐊𝐚𝐢𝐬𝐞𝐫 𝐌𝐢𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐥 ⊹ ₊

You and Kaiser are hanging out after practice, his usual self-absorbed chatter filling the air while you scroll through your phone.

“So, what’s your type?” he asks, that smug grin creeping across his face.

You glance up, pretending to think. “Hmm… I like guys who are quiet, humble, and down-to-earth. Maybe a little shy. Definitely not someone who’s always showing off.”

Kaiser freezes. His smirk falters for just a moment before he leans in, eyes narrowing. “You’re really gonna sit here and tell me that’s your type?”

You nod, keeping a straight face. “Yeah, I think it’s cute. Totally my type.”

Kaiser lets out a low, incredulous chuckle. “That’s funny. You’ve been hanging out with me for weeks now, and I’m anything but humble. You’re full of shit.”

You raise an eyebrow. “What can I say? I like a challenge.”

He laughs, loud and confident. “A challenge? Babe, you don’t have to look any further. I’m exactly what you want. I’m the best, and you know it.”

You roll your eyes, trying to keep the grin from spreading. “Sure, whatever you say, Kaiser.”

His smile widens, fully aware of what he’s doing. “Admit it. You’re hooked on me. I’m exactly your type—you just don’t want to say it yet. But I’m already in your head.”

You snicker, finally giving in. “Fine. You’re right. Michael Kaiser is my type.”

He leans back, arms crossed, looking utterly victorious. “I knew it. You don’t need to hide it. No one can resist me.”

₊ ⊹ 𝐍𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐀𝐥𝐞𝐱𝐢𝐬 ⊹ ₊

You and Ness are sitting on the benches after practice, him leaning a little too close as usual. His eyes are practically glued to you, that dreamy smile never wavering.

“So… what’s your type?” he asks, tilting his head like a puppy waiting for praise.

You pretend to think, tapping your chin. “Hmm… I guess I like guys who are really serious, kind of intimidating. The quiet, brooding type who doesn’t let anyone get too close.”

For a moment, Ness just stares at you, blinking. Then, to your surprise, his cheeks turn red, and a tiny, breathy laugh escapes him.

“Oh,” he mutters, almost giddy. “So… someone who would completely ignore you? Push you away? Maybe even be a little mean?”

You narrow your eyes. “Uh… yeah?”

His smile widens. “That sounds kinda nice.”

You blink. “What.”

Ness sighs, pressing a hand to his chest dramatically. “Imagine… the person you love looking down on you, refusing to acknowledge you, barely giving you the time of day… ahh, my heart aches just thinking about it.”

You gape at him. “Ness. That’s not—”

He suddenly grabs your hand, squeezing it tight. “But I love a challenge! If that’s what you want, I’ll just have to make you fall for me harder!”

You groan, finally laughing. “Ness, I was messing with you! That’s not my type at all!”

He blinks. “Oh?” Then, without missing a beat, he leans in closer, voice dropping. “So… does that mean you do like me?”

You roll your eyes. “Maybe I’d like you more if you weren’t so weird.”

Ness only grins, unbothered. “Ohh, so you do like me a little! That’s enough for me!”

You sigh, shaking your head. There’s no winning against this guy.

(Guys I think this is enough to feed you all.. I think I shall end this already)

#blck #blue lock #bllk #bllk x reader #bllk x y/n #blue lock x reader #bllk kaiser #blue lock kaiser #michael kaiser #kaiser michael #kaiser x reader #kaiser x y/n #micheal kaiser x reader #bllk ness #alexis ness #ness alexis #ness x reader #alexis ness x reader

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alexlwrites · 2 days ago

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𝑭𝒐𝒓𝒈𝒆𝒕 𝒎𝒆 𝒏𝒐𝒕

✿𝑷𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈: Jungkook x Reader

✿ 𝑺𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚: The one where everytime you get dumped you pretend that you never met the guy before to mess with their heads. To the point that if you run into them somewhere you reintroduce yourself and act like you’ve never seen each other before.

Enters fuckboy Jungkook who disappears after your night together, not knowing how much he was about to regret that choice.

✿ 𝑻𝒂𝒈𝒔: Romance, Humor, Fluff, Angst, College AU

✿ 𝑨/𝑵: I’m truly sorry for this sad excuse of an update.

(Fanfic masterlist)

(support me on my ko-fi)

°•. ✿ .•°

𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐞 - 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐬, 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐠𝐮𝐞

(<<< part two)

You were on a date. Or so Jungkook believed.

He was skulking outside yet another coffee place, as you seemed to have a financially unadvised obsession with those. And although it might’ve seemed so to any passers-by, he was not stalking you.

He just so happened to stumble upon this place where he knew you usually had a chocolate cappuccino on Tuesdays at around 3 in the afternoon, as you didn’t have classes after 2 on Tuesdays and Fridays.

All of that knowledge had been acquired through days of observing and cataloguing your quirks and traits. Jungkook had decided upon further introspection that just his charm and thick, veiny arms would not be enough to lure you back into his bedroom and so he decided to do some research. His findings were both surprising and not at all: you were fucking weird.

There was the caffeine addiction, the concerningly decorated messenger bags and your fixation with small fuzzy animal figurines - which he had confirmed with his little sister were called Calico Critters and, according to the expert appraisal of the nine-year-old, your collection was worth quite the money… His investigation had brought him many findings and eventually led him here: your third favorite coffee shop where you seemed to be laughing way too hard at some guy’s probably lame jokes. Couldn’t be better than his, Jungkook thought bitterly. You had laughed way harder at your… Well, one date.

Jungkook was once again taken by irrational anger, as that was all you seemed to invoke in him. How come he was climbing up the walls of his tiny dorm, haunted by the thought of your psychotic self and you got to move onto the next man (or should he say victim?) as if your night together had never happened? He felt used!

He was so close to an epiphany with that particular thought, he could feel self-actualization kissing his piercings. Alas, Jungkook was not interested in facing his own hypocrisy that day. No, he only craved confrontation and so he stepped into the cafe with squared shoulders and puffed chest like a New York pidgeon on its way to the last breadcrumb.

“Y/N” he called while approaching your table.

Your tired eye roll sent a shiver down his spine, but with you he could never tell if it was annoyance or arousal.

Most likely both.

“Jeon” you answered in a clipped tone “how unsurprising and unpleasant to see you yet again. This is Jihoon” you gestured towards the man sitting in front of you, watching the whole interaction with mild interest “Jihoon, this is my stalker.”

“I’m sorry to interrupt your little date” the way Jungkook spat out the last word made it clear that he was not at all sorry. “Also, I’m not a stalker.”

“That’s exactly what a stalker would say.” Jihoon extended his hand with an amused smile “So nice to meet you, Mr. Stalker. And please, don’t worry about our date” you snorted, making Jungkook feel like he was being left out of a big joke “this is just a couple of cousins catching up. You can still stalk her freely, although I don’t see why you would. Is it like a romantic gesture?”

“He’s already obsessed with me as it is. Don’t encourage him or I’m gonna end up in his basement.”

Jungkook felt the sudden urge to bite his fist and let out a five minute long suffering groan. Of course you were related. That look of unhinged superiority could only run in the family.

“Jeon, can I talk to you outside for a second?” You asked, but it seemed like an order as you pulled him away by his arm, Jihoon waving behind as you left the cafe.

Were you about to whoop his ass, he wondered. He didn’t doubt for a second that you could.

“This has gone too far now, Jeon” You said as soon as you were out of earshot from your curious cousin. “It was funny for maybe five minutes watching you throw a bitch fit but I’m tired of being afraid of opening my fridge at night and find you lurking behind the milk. You’re in my classes, my favorite coffee shops, the library and God knows you’re not reading in there… I even had to learn your name and for what?! What do you want from me? A therapist recommendation? A fucking exorcist?!”

“I want to take you out again.”

You blinked. Once. Twice.

“I hope you mean take me out with a gun and put me out of my misery!”

“I want to take you out on a date” he repeated resolutely.

“Why?! You said it yourself, you don’t have feelings for me, we have nothing in common… Haven’t I treated you shitily enough? Aren’t you loved at home?”

Jungkook scoffed. “We have plenty in common!” he said with very little conviction.

“Yeah? Like what?”

“Well…” he scrambled his brain for something believable, because he doubted you would believe he also enjoyed reading mildly erotic retellings of Greek Mythology in the school yard, like you so clearly did “That movie theater on Fifth Street that you love. I also love that place.”

“You do?”

“They did a marathon of a couple of Marvel movies.”

“They only show foreign movies.”

“Well, that one happened in Wakanda, so… Foreign.”

You looked at him like he had just said the stupidest thing on earth. Honestly, knowing himself, he probably did.

“First of all, it’s weird that you know my favorite movie theater and it does nothing against the stalker allegations.” Jungkook just shrugged “But fine, if we got so much in common like you say, why don’t we go watch a movie tomorrow? Mind you” you pointed a stiletto acrylic nail at him before he smiled too hard “this is not a date. This is a friendly get-together. After all, we have so much in common, right? Surely we’ll be the best of friends, like rats and the plague.”

It was not what Jungkook wanted, but being your friend was better than hiding behind the shelves of the university library, so he agreed. This was just a start and the perfect one at that. What could be better than a movie date, right?”

***

Jungkook had been crying for the last 50 minutes. When you suggested watching a movie about a dictatorship, he thought it was going to be a war movie filled with action, like Wonder Woman or A Bug’s Life. Instead, he sat through the extremely emotional retelling of a family who lost its dissident dad to the military-forced disappearances and bawled the whole time, because, hey, he loves his dad, okay? Meanwhile, you were stuffing your face with popcorn and holding back a maniacal grin, patting his head softly like he was a lost child at the mall.

When the movie ended, credits rolling down the screen, he excused himself to go to the bathroom and try to wash his tear-streaked face. Ok, so crying (sobbing, really) at the movies was not the sexiest move he could’ve pulled, but surely an intellectual woman such as yourself liked an emotional man, right? His manly empathy probably got him some brownie points, no?

“So” you started once he left the bathroom, dabbing at his eyes with a tissue “Did you enjoy the movie?”

“Ye-yeah, I did. I mean, it was kind of sad, I guess. Did you enjoy it?”

“Oh, I had already seen it.”

Jungkook stopped “What?”

“Oh, yeah, I downloaded it illegally months ago when it first aired in the Venice International Film Festival but I wanted to see your reaction. Honestly, it was so worth it.”

Jungkook had never in his life had met a more infuriating woman than you and he had a younger sister with a mean streak. Everything you did and said sent him into a spiral of frustration that had him testing the enamel of his teeth from so much grinding. “Do you enjoy watching grown men cry?” he said through a fake gritted smile.

“Yeah, don’t you? This could be one of the things we have in common! Do you want to invite your friends next time?”

Honestly, that was not that bad of an idea. Jimin and Taehyung had both been on his face for the past few days, making constant fun of him for his useless attempts at wooing you, so Jungkook would really enjoy some revenge. Maybe he could film it and become TikTok famous, maybe… Jungkook shook his head. He was not about to agree with you!

“What are you doing, Y/N?” he asked, trying and failing to hide his annoyance at your constant nonchalant teasing “I thought this was a friendly hang-out. Why are you being a brat?”

You raised your brows and crossed your arms and Jungkook just knew he was about to get the verbal beatdown of his life. Even the weed-smelling teenager sweeping the carpet of the movie theater seemed to know that, as he quickly swept his way into the broom’s closet with a wince. “Trust me, this is not me being a brat yet. This” you gestured towards the both of you with a menacing finger “is me being friendly. This is me being friendly to the guy who has been following me around campus for a week, disrupting my studies and my schedule. This is me being friendly to the guy who has not been able to take a hint so clearly in his face that even a blind Sherlock Holmes would say it’s fucking elementary. This is me being friendly to the man who created a narrative in his hair-filled head where he slept with me, left me and got annoyed and offended when I didn’t want to do it again. This is as friendly as I can get with bored, spoiled men-children who seem to have nothing better to do with their days besides annoying women into going out with them to fill a void they refuse to address in therapy. This is all the friendly you’re going to get from me, Jeon.”

Silence reigned over the movie theatre and even the popcorns seemed to stop popping to listen to the on-going drama. It was hard to find something to say after being emotionally stripped naked like that on a Wednesday, but Jungkook had not yet learned to take an L and shut up.

“Look, I get that I may have given you the wrong first impression” you scoffed and seemed to be ready to go for round two “but! BUT! People can change, can’t they? I get that I’ve been pushy and I shouldn’t have called you crazy…”

“That was actually the one thing you got right.”

“But I’ve been working on it! I found out the things that you like, I watched that sad as fuck movie for you, I even got you this!” he reached into the pocket and pulled out the last thing you expected from him.

A tiny bunny figurine with a baker's hat.

“Is this a Baby Bakers Edition Calico Critters Bunny?” you asked, voice half awe and half confusion.

“My little sister said they’re limited edition. See?” he pushed the small bunny into your hand, watching you cradle it gently “I’m trying out here. What is it going to take for you to give me a chance?”

You toyed with the miniature’s ears, petting it gently as you frowned deep in thought.

“A good reason” you answered at last.

“What?”

“You asked what’s going to take for me to give you a chance. That 's it. I need a good reason. When I ask you ‘Why do you want to go on a date with me?’ I need you to give me a good reason.” You pocketed the bunny and stared deep into his eyes, an unsettling feeling growing in his chest “I don’t want to be some sort of point you’re proving or a challenge you’re overcoming. So I want you to give me a good reason why you want me.” you started walking away, leaving him confused once more “When you have that, then we can talk.”

°•. ✿ .•°

✿ The next chapter called "Great distress and moral conundrum" is already available on my ko-fi to Calcifer Crew, my membership tier and will be posted here soon! Click here if you want early access to all my updates :)

✿ My taglists are open! Click here to be added <3

#bts fanfic #bts x reader #jungkook x reader #bts scenarios #jungkook fanfic #jeon jungkook x you

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gensideas · 1 day ago

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jealous jealous, girl.

summary; y/n is jealous of rafe’s girl friend.

content * advisory; none. just rafe being a tease.

It started off with Rafe's girl-friend wanting to come over everyday after golf practice. It’s not that you were mad about. it was the fact she knew how you felt when she asked questions liked that. it always made you feel uneasy.

then, she would ask to come over for dinner, and rafe the guy he is, he would say yes. You thought the way you felt was stupid. maybe you were just over-reacting, right?

it was one of those nights yet again. the one where rafe’s “friend” would ask to come over for the millionth time in 4 days. you were getting sick of it.

—

“rafe, this is the millionth time she’s come over. does she have too, again?” you asked, not looking away from your phone. “Look doll, it’s the last time I swear. I don't know why she keeps asking.” Rafe responded, standing behind you. “you said that last time, and she came the next day. can she just not come today?” you sighed, turning around. Rafe walked behind you, “baby, please. i pink swear this time. it’s the last time she’ll come over.”

you hummed, going upstairs to your shared bedroom.

you’d had enough and didn’t wanna hear him beg and keep a promise he couldn’t every time.

—

Rafe was in the kitchen cleaning when he heard a knock at the door. He rushed to open, greeting his friend. “Ruby, hey.” he moved to the side, letting her in. “hey rafey.” she walked into the kitchen/living room. “Wow, it's gorgeous here. Did you paint the walls?” ruby asked, sitting at the kitchen table. rafe sat down, “uh yeah, y/n painted it.” —“oh, it’s…nice.”

—

“sooo, how’s your day been?” ruby asked, taking a bite from her sandwich. “uh, it’s been alright. mostly been out with y/n running errands.” Rafe smiled, eating some alfredo. — ruby sighed, “oh, well um, that’s very nice.”

“yeah, best part of my day really.” Rafe replied, looking up at ruby. “uh rafe, i was thinking..im going to watch this movie on saturday. it’s called heart eyes or something. i was wondering if you wanted to go? — you know, just you and me?” ruby spoke, her cheeks flushed.

Rafe knew you wouldn’t like the idea of him being with another girl ALONE. let alone, you guys have plans that day. —

“uh, I can't. I have plans with y/n that I can't cancel." Rafe replied, standing up to get a drink. “oh uh, doing what exactly?” ruby asked, curious about what HER boy best friend had planned. “me and y/n are planning our vacation for the summer. we’re planning our wedding.” Rafe responded, pointing a glass of whiskey.

Ruby had enough. she was tired of seeing her friend with another girl. even if it’s not her, she wanted him all to herself. “seriously rafe? marriage?! i’ve been in love with you since forever and you choose that-“ ruby was cut off. “that what? because if you say another word, i don’t wanna hear it. if you have a problem, you can leave." Rafe turned around to look at ruby. Ruby just grabs her things and walks out. Rafe sighs, happy that she was finally gone.

—

as you were reading, you heard a knock on the bedroom door. “y/n, doll?” rafe called from the other side. “what is it, rafe?” you asked, walking towards the door. you opened it to be met with a relieved rafe. “she isn’t coming over anymore.” rafe responded, walking into the bedroom to sit on the bed. “and why is that?” you asked, surprised. “she fucking admitted her feelings towards me after i told her we were leaving for vacation.” rafe exclaimed, laying back into the bed.

—

you felt angry. not with him, well maybe a little but, mainly with ruby. she KNEW you guys were engaged, and still admitted her feelings in the midst of their lunch. “she did what..?” you sighed, clenching your fist. “she admitted her feelings..” rafe sighed. “oh i’m so gonna kill her. why would she do that.” — “i may or may not have told her we were planning our wedding.” — “you did what?!” you sternly spoke, eyes darting at rafe. “im sorry! i didn’t know she was going to admit her feelings.” rafe frowned, sitting back up.

—

“i swear to god. she’s sooooo gonna get it. she’s dead.” you responded, walking into the shared bathroom. rafe followed behind, “what’s got you so upset?” — “she not only one, admitted her feelings. but she knows!” you replied, trying to take a deep breath. rafe looks at you for a second before inching closer to your lips. “what are yo-“ — rafe kissed you, placing his hands on your waist.

—

“what was that for?” you chuckled, looking up at him. “so i could shut you up for a second.” he smirked, looking down at you.

“well, ruby is a great “friend” ain’t she?” you sarcastically asked, looking away.

“what? you jealous? hm.”

#rafe cameron x female reader #drew starkey #drew starkey x reader #obx season 4 #outerbanks rafe #rafe cameron #drew starkey x you #drew x reader #rafe fluff #rafe obx #rafe x reader #rafe x you #rafe outer banks #obx fanfiction #obx

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just-dreaming-marvel · 2 days ago

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Birthdays ~ Love That Burns

LOVE THAT BURNS MASTERLIST / EVERYDAY MOMENTS MASTERLIST

Word Count: 1,950ish

Summary: You know that Logan struggles with dates, so you take on the birthdays. Even if that means ignoring yours.

Warning(s): birthdays, negative self talk

Notes: Please share your thoughts! This fic goes with my series, Love That Burns! Please give it a read!

Reminder: I DO NOT do taglists. Please don’t ask. Please follow and interact! I appreciate any reblogs, likes, comments, and asks!

It didn’t shock you to find out that Logan couldn’t remember his birthday. You didn’t make a big deal of it when the two of you were at the mansion. But now that you two were alone at the cabin, you decided that his birthday was worth celebrating. Though, you couldn’t let Logan know that just yet.

One morning, you and Logan were in the kitchen. He was eating breakfast while you were finishing up packing his lunch.

“Logan?” You questioned.

“Mhm?” He hummed, looking at you as he chewed his food.

“What time do you think you’ll be home tonight?”

“Around 4. I’m gonna try to be home earlier though, to help you with dinner.”

Your heart swelled at Logan’s thoughtfulness. “No rush.”

Logan’s brow quirked up. You were usually more excited to him home and helping you. He studied you as zipped up his lunchbox. It didn’t seem like anything was wrong. In fact, you seemed happy, lighter.

“Is something up, sweetheart?” Logan questioned.

“What?” You replied, confused. “Why would you think that?”

“Because you told be ‘no rush’ in coming home. Do you not want me to come home early?”

“You know I always want you home, Logan.”

“Then maybe I call in sick.”

“Too bad I just packed you a lunch.” You walked over and set it down next to him at the table. You leaned down and kissed his head before taking his plate and mug. “Don’t worry about me, Logan, I’m fine. I promise.”

“You’ve said that before.” He pulled out his phone. “I’m just—“

“No!” You lunged over and knocked the phone from his grip. He looked at you with surprise. “Go to work, please?”

Logan took you by the hips and pulled you into his lap. “What is goin’ on, sweetheart?”

You shook your head. “Just go to work and you’ll see when you come home, okay? I promise it’s nothing bad.” You leaned forward and kissed him softly. “Just let me do something nice for you.”

Logan hummed before stealing another kiss. “Okay. You know that I don’t like surprises, right?”

“But you like my surprises, right?”

“Sweetheart, one of your surprises was that you turn to ash when you die.”

“I came back.”

“Logan chuckled. “Damn right you did.” He gave you another kiss. “Okay. I’ll go to work. But don’t think that I won’t be checking on you frequently today.”

You smiled at him. “I wouldn’t expect anything less.”

~~~

Logan continued to check on you throughout the day as promised. You answered him quickly and didn’t let it distract you from your work. You cleaned the house thoroughly before decorating it. You had bought a variety of fake candles and placed them all around the house, turning them on so they flickered. You hung up two happy birthday signs: one in the living room and one above your bed. You readied the snacks, desserts, and drinks you had hidden for his birthday; displaying them neatly on the table. You knew that Logan didn’t care for decorations or anything looking fancy, but it still felt good to do something like this for Logan.

Once Logan told you he was on his way home, you changed into the new lingerie that you had bought for tonight and covered it up with one of Logan’s flannels. You turned off all the nights, allowing the candles to be the only source of light in the house. You bit your lip nervously as you listened for the truck to pull up. You knew that you went a bit over the top, but you were hoping that Logan could still enjoy it. Flames flickered at your fingertips as you heard the truck pull up and Logan exit it.

“Y/N? Honey?” Logan called as he entered the house, curious as to why the lights weren’t on. He took off his boots and hung up his jacket before entering the house further. Logan froze at the entrance to the living room, seeing the sign, candles everywhere, and you standing there in one of his flannels. “Sweetheart? What—? How did you—“

“Happy birthday, James,” you told him with a smile. “I figured that you didn’t remember when it was, so I thought that I would remind you.”

“This is all… for me?”

You giggled. “Well, obviously. Do you… do you like it?”

Logan didn’t answer, instead he rushed towards you and pulled you in for a kiss. You melted into him as he tried to pour all the words he couldn’t say into the kiss. When he broke the kiss, Logan kept you close and rested his forehead against yours.

“This is… the kindness thing anyone has ever done for me, sweetheart,” he whispered. “I don’t know what to say… or how to thank you.”

“No, need.” You gave his lips a peck. “I love you, James. Happy birthday.”

Logan smirked as his eyes roamed down your form. He hummed in approval. “Is that my flannel, sweetheart?”

You nodded. “Do you like it?”

“I always like seeing you in my clothes.”

“Well, I’m sure that you’ll enjoy what’s under it even more.”

Logan growled as his grip on your hips tightened. “Yeah, honey? And what do you have under there?”

“Why don’t you open your present and find out?”

Logan didn’t waste a second in ripping the flannel off of you and letting it be tossed to the floor. You laughed as he took you in.

“Is this set new?” Logan breathed out, taking in how amazing you looked. “Just for my birthday?”

“Mhm,” you nodded. “You like it?”

He picked you up and tossed you over his shoulder. You squealed as you laughed. “Let me show you jus how much I like it.”

~~~

Logan was never good with dates. That’s why it didn’t phase him they he didn’t know your birthday until the two of you had been back at the cabin for two years. One of his coworkers had been talking about what he was doing over the weekend for his wife’s birthday and it hit him that he didn’t know when your birthday was. He was angry with himself on his way home as well as confused as to why you hadn’t said anything.

During dinner, you could tell that something was weighing on Logan.

“Is everything alright, Logan?” You finally asked.

“Yeah, just fine,” he mumbled, focusing on moving his food around the plate.

You nodded, unconvinced.

~~~

Dinner passed awkwardly and before you knew it, the two of you were getting ready for bed. Logan was still tense and clearly in his head. You laid down and turned to face him as he continued to get ready for the night.

“Are you sure you’re alright?” You asked again. “It seems like something’s on your mind.”

Logan sighed as he sat on the bed. “I have a question to ask and it’s going to seem stupid.”

You sat up and moved over to him, wrapping your arms around his waist and resting your chin on his shoulder. “I’m sure it’s not as stupid as you think it is.”

“Some guy was talking at work today about how he was celebrating his wife’s birthday over the weekend… And I realized… Fuck, I’m a horrible partner.”

“Logan?”

“I realized that I don’t even remember when your birthday is.”

You tensed. You hadn’t ever wanted to make it a big deal that he didn’t know when your birthday was. You knew that he would feel incredibly guilty about it. Pressing a kiss to his shoulder, you sighed.

“It’s fine,” you mumbled against his shoulder.

“No, it’s not,” he shrugged you off and stood up. Logan turned to face you and you could see that his shoulders were slumped. His hand ran through his hair. “I should know your birthday! We’ve been together for years now and years before everything happened. I should know your damn birthday!”

“Logan, it’s okay that you don’t.”

He shook his head. “No, it’s not.” You could tell that he was serious about this and very much angry at himself. He huffed. “I’m going to go sleep on the couch.”

“No!” You reached out for his wrist but he pulled away. “Logan—“

“I just need a night.”

Then Logan left the room, shutting the door behind him. You sighed, tears pricking your eyes. You knew that it would only make things worse now if you chased after him, so you didn’t. But you also knew that it was hard to sleep without him. You slipped on one of his t-shirts and curled up on his side of the bed, trying to find comfort in the lingering smell on his pillow. A few tears slipped down your cheeks as you struggled to fall asleep without Logan.

~~~

Logan didn’t get much sleep. He hated that he didn’t remember the important things, like your birthday, and that he walked out of the room tonight. He couldn’t sleep without you and he knew that you struggled to do the same. By the time dawn was breaking, Logan couldn’t handle being away from you anymore. He slipped into the bedroom, his heart breaking a little to see you curled up with his pillow and one of his shirts on. Logan crawled over to you and pulled you into him.

“Logan?” You mumbled, barely waking.

He kissed your cheek. “Go back to sleep, sweetheart… I’m right here… I’m sorry for not sleeping in the bed.”

“It’s fine.”

“No, it’s not.”

You sighed, pushing yourself further into him. “It’s not all on you… I could’ve told you when my birthday was. I just didn’t think it was a big deal.”

“Anything involving you is a big deal to me, honey.”

You smiled. “So, you won’t freak out when I say my birthday was last week.” Logan tightened his grip on you. “I’m sorry. I should have told you but I was fine just having a regular day with you.”

“You shoulda told me,” he muttered.

“I’m sorry.” You turned your head to try to look at him. “Forgive me?”

He pecked your lips. “Always.”

~~~

The day went on like normal, with you and Logan having breakfast and doing chores around the cabin. When the afternoon came around, you stayed home while Logan went into town for a few errands. Logan came back a few hours later with your need groceries, a bouquet of flowers and a small wrapped gift.

“Hey, sweetheart,” he set the groceries on the counter and handed you the flowers.

“They’re beautiful, Logan,” you commented. “What are they for?”

“Happy late birthday.”

“Logan, you didn’t have—“

“I did because I love you and I’m never going to let another one of your birthdays pass without me doin’ something for you. Here.” He handed you the small wrapped gift. “It’s nothing much but…”

You set down the flowers and carefully unwrapped the gift. You bit your lip at the photo inside. It was a rare photo of you and Logan together at the mansion, that you had never seen before. The two of you were standing on the balcony, arms wrapped around each other, with Logan pressing a kiss to your forehead. You don’t know who caught this moment on camera, but you would be forever grateful for it.

Logan stuffed his hands in his pockets and rocked on his heels. “Do you like it?”

“Logan,” you breathed out, growing emotional, “I love it.” You set the gift down and wrapped your arms around his neck. “This is the best birthday present I’ve ever received. Thank you.”

“I wish I could do more. Next year—“

You shook your head. “I don’t need anything more. I just need you.”

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