#it just would have been nice!! to have been told!! at the beginning!! | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

hellfire--cult · 14 hours ago

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Edit of Eddie: pitifulbaby

Chapters: Masterlist (Go here to see list of chapters, plotline and general warnings.)

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

Tropes: Enemies to Lovers, Non-Traditional Omegaverse, Slow burn, Modern!AU, Mechanic!Eddie

⚠️18+: softness, drama, nervousness, fluff, angst, hurt, your heart will clench, the younger ones (not so young) make an appearance, someone else does too

wc: 10.3k

A/N: I'm sorry for taking so long! I didn't proofread this much, but, well... these next chapters are where everything starts falling into place. The omegaverse, will start omegaversing after this one.

Anyways, Enjoy! ❤️ And don't forget to always support me by hitting the reblog button or leave a comment!

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CHAPTER 24

You couldn’t believe where you were going.

You couldn’t even believe you were invited. This could also have happened even if you hadn’t slept with Eddie to begin with, but you couldn't help but feel honored and hopeful. He invited everyone in the group, and now you were in your brand new car, a Toyota, picked out by Eddie himself, driving into Hawkins.

“There’s literally no buildings… Like, no apartments and stuff…” You mentioned as you passed the downtown, while Robin hummed next to you, pointing at a particular one that looked like a three story complex.

“The apartment buildings here are small. You won’t ever see more than four story buildings around here.” She explained and you nodded as you kept your eyes on the road. It looked nice, homely. The stores looked like they were stuck in time, which only made it even more appealing.

“Must be a quiet little place to live in.” Robin chuckled as she laid back in the passenger’s seat, her phone in hand with the GPS on.

“Nah, we always found a way to make a mess somewhere. Especially Eddie.” Your heart skipped a beat and Robin noticed how you straightened yourself in your seat and she smirked your way. “Really? Just by saying his fucking name?”

“I– What?”

“You’re whipped. Gone. It looks cute, but at the same time, chill.” She said and you scoffed, stopping at a red light. Your head snapped to look at her with a frown in your face.

“I’m not that whipped.” Robin just stared at you with a poker face, silently asking you ‘really?’. You groaned with a sigh, laying back on the driver’s seat, running your hands over your face. “I didn’t think he would invite me.”

“Why not? It would be really stupid and disrespectful for him not to invite you, when he had his dick in every hole of yours–”

“Robin!” You gasped, your hands flying off your face to see Robin smiling at you.

“Why are you having a nervous breakdown now?” She asked and you sighed, noticing the light turning yellow. You started driving once it turned green again, looking over at Robin’s GPS for a second to look at the road, and then look forward once more.

“I– It’s… What if he doesn’t like me? I mean, Eddie didn’t like me when he first met me, so, maybe, it’s genetics, you know?” You could feel your throat closing up a bit when you talked. You had been a wreck when Eddie dropped the news to you. You cleaned your house a million times to keep yourself distracted, tried on many outfits, even if you were staying for just a few hours. You wanted it to be perfect, and to be liked.

“Oh my god… Wayne will like you. I promise you that. He respects anyone that puts Eddie in his place.”

Wayne. You would be meeting Wayne.

Eddie had told the plans a week ago to you. You had asked him if it was okay for you to meet him, and he told you that he would like for you to meet his Uncle. His uncle’s birthday. You were meeting Wayne on his birthday. That prospect was enough to send you into a spiral of nerves.

“I– I know I asked this a million times, but I dressed up okay, right?” You asked your best friend, only for her to roll her eyes and point to the right for you to follow the directions.

“You look fine! Jesus! You need to calm down!” You nodded and took a deep breath in as you kept driving, knowing you would soon meet Eddie’s home. Where he grew up to be who he was now. It was a really big step, a really big change. You might even cry at one point and you would not be able to explain yourself to the group.

The music playing on the radio was the only sound that engulfed the two of you as you kept driving to your destination. Your stomach was in knots, and you needed to be distracted from your thoughts. You cleared your throat, catching your best friend’s attention.

“So… Is Steve… still mad?” You asked and turned your head for a second to inspect Robin’s reaction. She frowned for a moment and that was enough answer for you. You sighed as you kept driving, shaking your head. “What is his fucking deal?”

“Look, I don’t know. I tried asking him and all I got was ‘You don’t understand.’. I don’t know what went on with him and Eddie. He wouldn’t tell me.” You couldn’t help but feel certain anger at your other friend. What was his problem with you? Were you not good enough for his best friend or something? Was he too pissed at Eddie for hiding you from him?

“It makes no sense Robs, and you know it.” You commented as you turned left, the sign of ‘Forest Hills: Trailer Park’ coming up. Your heart picked up a pace as you could already see a certain trailer with a bunch of tables gathered outside, seats, fairy lights all over and– It seemed like the entire community came for the birthday.

“Wayne is quite popular, isn’t he?” Robin stated and you hummed. You kind of knew why it could be. You could sense the twinge of sadness in Robin’s voice as she said that. You weren’t going to comment on it, so you slowed your car as you approached, seeing Eddie already in the distance, talking to an older woman as Steve helped with setting up drinks on the two tables.

You spotted Eddie’s car a trailer away, probably not wanting to park the car in front of his uncle’s home so he wouldn’t occupy the space. You parked right behind him and Robin instantly got out to go to the trunk to get the boxes of snacks out. You gripped the steering wheel once and closed your eyes to concentrate. You could do this. You could meet him. It was a big step, and you cannot mess this up.

You stepped out and helped Robin, closing the trunk and locking the car before heading towards Eddie’s old home. Even if you knew that the financial circumstances of these people were low, you could see the smiles as they greeted you. They had casseroles in their hands, pans with homemade bread. A small girl, around five, was holding a cake with the help of her older sister, maybe ten, walking towards Eddie to hand him the cake.

The world stopped spinning for a second as you watched. Eddie smiled widely as he held the cake and put it on the table. He lifted the girl up in his arms and twirled around to make her fly, her legs kicking around as she giggled loudly. The older sister was left pouting, looking at the attention her little sister was getting. Eddie put the younger girl down, only for him to do the same with the other, effortlessly, despite the height and weight difference.

You just stood there. The environment around you turned silent, no movement, just your heartbeat being heard in your ears. You didn’t know you were staring in awe, in amusement, completely entranced by him. He looked… beautiful. He looked perfect. Your heart tugged at you, painfully so, and–

“Hey.” You snapped out with a harsh blink as you turned your head to look at Robin, who was staring at you with a bit of worry, yet a small smile was on her lips. “You okay, soldier?”

“I– Yes. Yes, I’m– I’m fine.” You choked on your words as your feet started working again. You were left completely shocked as you looked at him, with children. He was playing with children. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. You had to stop. You were becoming emotional, and you couldn’t afford this.

Nancy came out of the trailer holding stacks of cups, a smile appearing on her face as she saw Robin approaching. You had told Robin that no matter what, she must not tell Nancy. You knew it would be hard for her to do so, keeping secrets from her girlfriend, but Nancy was also a close friend of Eddie’s. Everything would be a mess if the entire group found out about you two.

Eddie and Steve had yet to realize you two had arrived. Steve was scratching his head as he distributed the bottles of drinks evenly on each table, and Eddie made the girls run back to their homes. It was Robin who announced the arrival of you two, making you jump in your place.

“My love!” She screeched as she wobbled with the box in her hands towards the trailer steps. Nancy giggled as she came down, giving her a peck on the lips. You smiled at the interaction, yet a pang of jealousy surged through you. You wanted to do that with the man who was slowly turning to face you. You wanted to greet him with a hug, with a kiss, with a cheeky comment about how his band t-shirt was not appropriate for a birthday.

Eddie smiled as he looked at you, walking your way to grab the box out of your hands first as he put it on the table. He frowned as he opened it, taking a look inside. Your heart was frantically beating out of your throat as you waited for him to say something.

“We asked for… cheetos. Just Cheetos. You brought the entire store.” He said with a chuckle, and you shrugged and looked around, seeing many of the neighbors already gathering up.

“Good thing I didn’t bring just that then.” He was smiling your way, seeing him take a gulp as he looked around for a second. Your eyes fell on a pair of hazel ones that were staring at the both of you intently. Steve averted his eyes as soon as you looked at him, and then he walked towards Robin and Nancy. You felt your heart drop slightly by how cold your friend was being to you because of all of this.

Eddie stared at your profile for a second. The wind blowing against you, and the warmth of the afternoon’s sun hitting your skin just right. You stood where he grew up. Where he was raised. And his body was reacting as such. His bottom lip was between his teeth as he gambled with his options.

His resolve to keep himself in check with you today was slowly wavering because you two couldn’t risk it. Not in front of his family or his friends. But he couldn’t contain it. His hand slowly reached for the small of your back, and your head snapped towards him, a question etched in your eyebrows.

You could see the need in his eyes. How he also wanted to kiss you, greet you like you two always did when seeing one another. You didn’t want to cross any boundaries today, knowing this was an important event for him and for everyone around him. You didn’t want to overstep in any sort of way. He turned around, yelling at Nancy.

“Nance, the sparklers are still in the car, right?”

“Oh, yeah! I think there’s also more napkins and the speaker!” She replied, and he nodded, looking your way again.

“Care to help me get those, Peach?”

Your heart beat insanely crazy in your chest as you nodded. You looked back for a second to see Steve shaking his head before his attention went back to Nancy. You frowned a bit as Eddie started leading you towards the parked cars, right where you came from. You didn’t know why Steve didn’t like you two together. Why was he so against the idea? He came here with Eddie and Nancy in the car, and they didn’t look weird or out of place, or anything like that when you saw them from afar.

The problem was when the two of you got together. Every time Steve saw you and Eddie together, he would shut down. He would not talk with either of you, and he would not even look at you. He would glare at Eddie a few times, and you couldn’t help but ask yourself if Steve knew what Eddie truly felt for you. If he knew, and he looked at Eddie that way whenever he suspected you two were doing something, then it didn’t mean anything good.

“Steve still mad?” You asked as you kept walking, coming towards his car only for him to look back at the trailer and for his hand to grab yours.

“A bit. He will come around, he’ll have to get over it sooner or later.” He mentioned, and you squeezed his hand back as he stepped around the car, going towards the other side so you two would be hidden from everyone else. He crouched a bit so he wouldn’t be seen, and– he hated this. He hated it, but– He couldn’t risk it. He didn’t know. He was lost. This was the first time he ever… that he ever–

“Hi.” You said with a smile, cutting his thoughts off, and his reaction was quick, smiling back down at you as everything else shut off in one second. His face leaned down, coming close to your lips as his ears started ringing.

“Hi.” He finally kissed you. Slow. Gentle. Tender. He was surprised he could even kiss someone like this. To kiss someone without the need for it to escalate into something else. To kiss just because he wanted to kiss the person. To kiss them first thing in the day, so they wouldn’t forget him so easily.

He felt your arms wrapping around his shoulders as his hands ran all over your back. He needed this. It was as if your embrace was a calming spot. A safe haven. He had been a wreck the past week. He was very sensitive, and everything that could be said to him it could end up badly.

His uncle’s birthday was not something easy for him to do. Not when it could potentially be his last birthday. So it had to be perfect. Everything had to come together nicely, and it had to be memorable for Wayne. He didn’t meet you this past week, even if he extremely wanted to. He didn’t want you to witness the mess he was. He arranged everything with his friends when Eddie finally accepted their offers of helping, including you.

You had nagged at him all week, asking if he needed you to do something, to help, but he always replied with a no, and that he had it under control. Steve was the one who made him snap out of his craziness and told Eddie that he was an idiot for doing this alone. But could you blame him? His family, the last member of it that he recognizes as such, is dying. This birthday, overall, means nothing.

But now with you, the weight was lifted off his shoulders in one second. His arms engulfed you, not wanting to let go just yet, as you two kissed. Lips moving against each other, savoring the moment because it had been days, hours, minutes. He counted every single one of those, and you had done almost the same.

You weren’t mad when Eddie didn’t ask you to meet him the past week. You understood him, but the need to help him made your skin itch. You couldn’t let him do this alone, but you didn’t know how to approach him without invading his space. You didn’t want him to get mad or snap at you. You were surprised when two days ago he called and asked if you could help get some of the things.

You were really happy to help, and you told him as such. You were happy he had included you in the celebration of Wayne’s birthday, and even happier that he had asked help from you to prepare it.

He kissed you softly, and you kissed back just the same. You wished you weren’t hiding right now. You wished you could meet Wayne under different circumstances. You wished you could introduce yourself as something else rather than his nephew’s friend slash fuckbuddy. He groaned into the kiss when your fingernails graced the back of his neck for a second, making him pull away.

“Sorry for not being… available this week–”

“I understand. It– It looks perfect, Eddie.” Your voice was like a calming tune in his head. As if the vibrations of your tone soothed each cell and made him become like putty under your arms. Vulnerability was something Eddie never did. He never showed it, and if he did, he always made sure to be alone for it.

Except one time.

One time, you had caught him red-handed after hanging up with Wayne. You two had barely started to talk, but something about you made him break. Something about you made him want to be vulnerable. Maybe it was due to the fact that you had been vulnerable with him, and he wanted to show you as well, be even.

But you had held him, let him cry out on your shoulder, and he never forgot about that touch. He never forgot about that moment with you. He never quite let go of how you rubbed his back and then helped him calm down from it all. He only broke down with Wayne, and he once did with Steve after Wayne got diagnosed.

And now, it seemed as if you understood why he wasn’t present this week. As if you knew the turmoil of emotions rushing all over his body because of today. And it was incredible how you could manage to make all of that disappear in one instant by just being here, with him. He stared at you for a while, a smile forming on his lips as he slowly nodded.

“Yeah… You guys helped me a lot, too.” You smiled up at him, to then pinch his cheek roughly as you glared when he winced. “What–!”

“You are one stubborn idiot.” You let go of his cheek, and he stepped back, rubbing his skin with a pout on his lips. You bit your lip, unable to contain yourself, grabbing onto the hem of his shirt and pulling him downwards again, towards your lips, kissing his pout away. “Don’t be a baby, Munson.”

“Now, be careful, sweetheart.” He roughly spoke as his eyes clashed with yours. You could sense the need behind it, the lack of physical touch from one another becoming apparent now. You really wanted to just take him away for a few hours now and spend it alone with him. You weren’t going to, but it was just your body reacting, and your emotions enhancing the need.

“Don’t threaten me with a good time.” You gave him a peck as you pushed him away softly, looking up at him as you tried to not let the sadness and disappointment show in your eyes. “We have been gone for a hot minute…”

He stared at you for a while, the wind blowing between the two of you for a few seconds, with no words being exchanged. He didn’t want to stop. He didn’t want to go back and pretend that he didn’t want to kiss you all the damn time. He didn’t want to hold himself back for the entire night. How was he going to achieve that when he knew he would probably need you by his side for this?

“Yeah. The others might arrive soon too…” You hummed at his response, biting your bottom lip as you looked up at him. He huffed with a smile, leaning down to press a quick kiss to your lips, reading your mind. You took the opportunity to move your hand down and pinch his left ass cheek, making him squeal. “I swear, you are LITERALLY obsessed with my ass.”

“I swear you had another mosquito.” You giggled as you went towards the trunk of his car. He chuckled and pressed the middle button of his key, letting you open it up. You whistled as you saw the huge speaker laying inside. “When Nancy said the speaker, I thought of a small one. Like those JBL ones.”

Eddie chuckled, standing next to you, grabbing the speaker, boombox, by its handle and pulling it out. You wanted to bite his arm from how its veins popped out from the movement, but you had to keep yourself together. At least for today.

“We have almost the entire park coming for Wayne’s birthday. A small speaker wasn’t going to cut it, Peach.” He said as he looked at his old home. They weren’t going to lack on food and drinks since all the neighbors came with stuff. There weren’t many people, but there were quite a few. “It might be his last one… That’s why they all came.”

And you knew it. You had that suspicion. You looked up at Eddie, staring at his profile. His jaw was clenching as his eye bag looked like it was pulsating. He was stressed. He was nervous. He was anxious. You didn’t care at that moment. If Nancy or anyone else were looking, they could go to hell.

You wrapped your hands around his arm, nuzzling your nose against his bicep before placing a soft kiss there. He was wide eyed as he stared down at you, knowing you two were not covered by the car anymore. Your eyes looked up to clash against his, a warm and encouraging smile spreading on your lips.

“Let’s make it a great birthday. Okay?”

Time went still again, and yet he smiled back, giving a nod your way. You slowly let go of his arm, and the seconds started ticking again. You grabbed the napkins and sparklers from the passenger’s seat as Eddie closed the trunk. He grabbed the handle of the huge speaker and rolled it like a carry-on back towards the party, setting it up with his phone so music would start playing through the field.

You helped Nancy put the snacks in bowls and plates, as more people brought little pies or snacks, as well as drinks. Some introduced themselves as old fishing pals of Wayne, then a woman who told you that Wayne had helped her fix her pipes when she barely moved in years ago. Everyone had stories with him, and you realised he was dearly loved and cared about in this trailer park.

Then, Argyle, Eden, and Jonathan finally rolled up. They were bringing in alcoholic drinks because Jonathan had great deals with suppliers thanks to his bar. The drinks were nicely put on the table, and Jonathan made it very clear to keep them clean and respectful. Basically, he told people to measure themselves with the alcohol and not get drunk in a lapse of minutes.

Nancy then started waving excitedly towards the road, which made you look forward, seeing her brother waving back, followed by Will, a boy and a girl you didn’t know, and Dustin. You wondered if they knew about you. Did they know what you looked like? Did they know you by name, even?

Your questions were answered when Jonathan and Nancy gave their hugs, and Will immediately smiled at you.

“Finally, nice to meet you.” That’s how you knew. You smiled at the young boy, shaking his hand as you presented yourself. Mike, even if acting as if he weren’t interested, he shook your hand with his enthusiastically. You then looked at the two young people you hadn’t met, nor even seen in any of the pictures Eddie had shown you.

“I’m Lucas.” The boy said, presenting himself and shaking your hand. Lucas… Eddie had mentioned a boy who quit his club to go into the basketball team, and maybe that boy was Lucas. You turned to the short-haired girl, who was smiling at you.

“I’m Jane.” You smiled as you shook her hand. Before you could say anything, you were engulfed in the arms of a stranger whom you only knew through pictures.

“Oh man! It’s great to finally meet you!” Dustin exclaimed excitedly as he pulled away, your eyes wide in surprise as he held your shoulders. “I’m Dustin Henderson, pretty sure you know that already, very popular amongst the older crowd.”

You couldn’t help the snort and the smile bubbling up in you as you looked at the guy in front of you. He was radiating happiness in every single aspect. You couldn’t help but feel giddy as he shared his emotions with you. You presented yourself, and he gave you a roll of his eyes, telling you he knew.

“Yeah, I know a bit about most of you.” You commented, and before Dustin could say anything, you felt the collar of your shirt being pulled from the back, separating you from the younger man in front of you. Dustin’s eyes looked up, and your head turned to look at Eddie with an eyebrow raised in question.

“Now, you don’t hug people you just met, Henderson. It’s creepy.” He said almost in a snarl, but Dustin smiled widely and immediately latched onto Eddie. You were wide-eyed as you saw all the younger ones hugging Eddie tightly, forming a big chunk of people. You inspected Eddie’s face as he stayed in the middle, his eyes closed as he breathed in.

You realized that it might have been months since they all last saw each other. Steve, Robin, Argyle, and Eden approached next, and they all happily greeted each other, with Steve also almost getting tumbled over. Argyle presented Eden as his girlfriend, and– Shit, another pang of jealousy. You wanted that. You wanted to be presented as… as a girlfriend, just like her.

Then you looked at how Will and Mike had stepped back, and Mike’s arm was wrapped around Will’s waist as he listened to Steve talk to Dustin about proper manners with alcohol. They were 20, but they were allowed to drink under their supervision.

“For context…” Jonathan stood next to you, holding back a chuckle. “We were present when we let Dustin have his first taste of alcohol at eighteen. We turned around for a second, and he had chugged two beers down.”

“What!?” You asked loudly, looking at Jonathan with a disapproving look on your face. He shrugged at you with a roll of his eyes.

“He is a menace! And very sneaky!” You shook your head at him, a small smile forming on your lips as you looked back at the group. “So… heard things with Jeff broke off.”

You blinked a few times at his words, and you wondered why he suddenly said them, only to then see Jeff, Gareth, and another guy coming over, laughing as they talked. You had to lie to them again. Robin helped with coming up with that plan. Supposedly, you and Jeff had tried going exclusive, only for it to not work out. Jeff had feelings for someone else, while you never caught those for him. You were two friends who often fucked and that was it. You pretended you had misinterpreted your feelings.

“Yeah, but it’s better this way. I honestly am happy that he is with the one he truly likes now.” You smiled, and Jonathan’s eyebrows were still furrowed in the middle in concern. You turned to look at him and sighed. “I promise, I am fine. I explained to you that I thought I liked him, just because he was the only one I was fucking.”

“Still… I don’t know… I just feel like you– You sound incomplete, if that makes sense.” You stared at him as the words processed in your head. Incomplete. How does one sound… incomplete?

Your attention was brought back as people started cheering and clapping, and you turned to look towards the trailer door. Walking down the small stairs with Lucia, the caretaker, helping from behind, was Wayne. He was waving as best as he could, taking little steps to reach the wheelchair at the bottom of the porch. Eddie was already standing there, and your eyes filled with tears as you saw the boney structure of his uncle embrace his nephew, who was much bigger than him, yet he was hugging him as if Eddie were still a kid.

Eddie held onto him, separating just enough to help him get on the wheelchair as Lucia prepared the IVs on the back to connect him to. You saw people slowly approach Wayne to start congratulating him and you waited by the tables, alongside the rest of your group. The corroded coffin guys stepped up, going first.

The old man greeted them, and you could see him reprimanding Gareth for something. You were staring at Eddie’s reactions, standing next to his uncle as he listened in to all the greetings. Then, the younger ones greeted him, and you noticed how Eddie had to grip Dustin by the hair to not get overly excited when telling something to his uncle, who was trying not to burst out laughing.

Then, your group started moving, one by one, greeting him and giving small talk. Argyle seemed to have offered some of his things, which Eddie only rubbed his temples at. He also presented Eden to him. Nancy just politely greeted him, only for Robin to start telling Wayne how she was her girlfriend now in a very loud manner. Jonathan apologized for Robin’s excitement, and the old man thanked him for the nice glass of whiskey he would drink tonight. He spent an awful lot of time talking with Steve, and you stood at the side, the nerves eating away at your own stomach.

You were a stranger here. You were invading privacy, and you didn’t know how to act with it. You didn’t know how to introduce yourself. You didn’t know if his uncle knew the clashes you and Eddie had in the past, the number of insults you threw at his nephew. If he knew, he would hate you. He definitely would despise you. Fuck, you didn’t know–

“Peach.”

Your head snapped up, seeing Eddie with a smile on his face as he put his hand behind your left shoulder. You gave him a quick, nervous nod and took a deep breath as you let him guide you towards his uncle. Wayne Munson was looking up at you already, a tilt of his head as he inspected you all over.

“I do not know you.” He said with curiosity. You opened your mouth only for Eddie to give your name first, and then Wayne’s eyes widened, and he squinted at you. “I’m sorry– You– You are the one who tried to beat him up, right?”

Oh, fuck, he knew. His uncle knew about you and Eddie hating each other before. This looked bad, and the fact that he knew that part specifically. Shit. Your heart was slowly stopping in panic as you took a sharp intake of breath.

“I– Yes, but–” You were interrupted by laughter, his uncle clapping as he cracked up as if you had just told the greatest joke of all time. Your eyes were wide as Eddie groaned in exasperation next to you. You didn’t know what was happening as you looked back and forth, wondering what you had done to make this situation funny.

“Lord, I respect you, kid. Honestly, not many have the balls to do what you did to someone like him.” You tilted your head in question, and Eddie’s eyes snapped open at his uncle’s words. Wayne looked at him, and Eddie gave a subtle shake of his head. Not now. It was not the time. His uncle understood and grabbed your hand. “I’m Wayne, nice to meet you.”

You slowly shook his hand, and when you pulled away, you turned to look at Eddie, who was already looking down at you. His eyes were filled with emotions that you couldn’t decipher. There was a mix of absolutely everything, and you didn’t know which to pinpoint first. You opened your mouth to talk, only for Robin to interrupt you both.

“Come set up beer pong with me!” She called out to you specifically, and you nodded, smiling down at Wayne once again.

“Happy birthday, Mr. Munson. If you play beer pong, I’m your rival.” You made conversation, and the older man rolled his eyes, shaking his head.

“That would be your worst mistake. I may be in a wheelchair, but my pulse is steady.” You were happy he took the comment with the same energy you delivered it and then you walked away to help Robin. Eddie stayed back with his uncle, guiding them both to a table. Eddie grabbed a beer and then filled a cup with just a quarter of whiskey in it.

“Don’t tell the doctors.” Eddie said, and his uncle chuckled, grabbing the cup and taking it to his lips.

“Never.” He took a small sip of the whiskey as Eddie sat down and popped the can open for him to take a sip of his own. “So… that girl.”

“What about her?” His uncle chuckled a bit, scratching the side of his head. Eddie’s heart was beating out of his chest as he waited for an answer, only for his old man to shrug.

“She seems nice.” Eddie let a small sigh escape before taking another sip of his beer. “Lovely of her to help you with the boombox.”

He spat his entire beer out, choking on the gas that got trapped in his throat. Fuck– Fuck–

“I– That didn’t… Shit, that didn’t–”

“Mean anything?” Wayne asked with an eyebrow raised in question. He slowly took another sip as he stared at his nephew. Eddie was looking down, a hand scratching his head as he tried to look for the best words.

“We… It’s just physical.” He tried to say as best as he could, but the words came out small, and his uncle noticed.

“I may be old… and I may be sick, but I know when something doesn’t mean anything. That kiss I saw… Come on.” His uncle pressed, and Eddie sighed heavily, looking at him with a frown in the middle of his forehead.

“How did you even see us?” He asked, only for Lucia to come by for a second, grabbing a napkin from the table, humming innocently. Eddie glared at her, a bit of annoyance displaying in his features. “Lucia…”

“Look, it ain’t my fault your uncle picked up a few words in Spanish. I saw you two while I helped him get dressed, and I said ‘Eddie se esta besando con una chica!’ and your uncle’s curiosity spiked.” The woman explained, and Wayne chuckled.

“I only caught the words ‘Eddie’, ‘kissing’, and ‘girl’. She helped me get up and see.” Eddie groaned exasperated, and Wayne nodded at Lucia for her to walk away and leave him alone with his nephew. She stepped away, her eyes on Wayne at all times if he needed anything at all. “Son…”

“Old man, I know what you saw but… it’s not that simple.”

“In all my years I’ve never seen you with someone. Not like that. Edward, you’ve never invited the people you spent nights with to my birthdays, nor yours.” He explained and Eddie felt trapped, as if someone was putting pressure on his back.

“It’s because she is in our friend group. That’s the whole reason for it.” Wayne sighed at the excuse, shaking his head at the stubbornness.

“Eddie… stop looking at it logically.”

Eddie’s eyes widened and he looked up to see his uncle smiling. He knew. He knew what was going on in his mind. Of course he did, Wayne was his family, his real father so to speak. Wayne knew him like the back of his own hand.

“I– I don’t know how it should really feel. I never told her–” Wayne nodded, and opened his mouth to talk, only for him to be called by his friends. He turned to look at Eddie for a second and he only smiled, “Go, we’ll talk later. I’m staying here for a few more days, remember?”

“Sure son.” He nodded towards Lucia, who came over to help Wayne go to his fishing friends. Eddie stared at his family and just sat there. He was playing with his fingers as he felt his entire body tensing with sudden nerves.

Why was everything so complicated? Why was he the complicated one? Why couldn’t it be easy for him to know when it was right? When everything made sense? It wasn’t fair that he didn’t know how it should really feel. It wasn’t fair.

His thoughts were interrupted when a hand was plastered on his back, making him jump up completely startled and defensive, grabbing the wrist of the hand that patted him.

“Whoa! It’s just me!” Dustin exclaimed, completely startled, putting his other hand up in defense. Eddie sighed and let go of him and his younger friend sat down next to him, grabbing a beer and popping one open. Eddie glared at him, squinting his eyes. “What?”

“Easy.”

“I have learned my ways. I am not a teenager anymore.” He said proudly, and took a long sip of the can, making Eddie sigh in defeat. He exclaimed his satisfaction with a long ‘ah’ and silence engulfed them for a few seconds. “You doing alright?”

“Yeah… Yeah, I am.” Dustin gave a small encouraging smile and Eddie could feel the nervousness in his friend as he tapped his fingers against the can. “What’s going on with you?”

“Oh? Me? Nothing? Why would something be… wrong with me?” He said with a nervous fake chuckle, and Eddie frowned in question, the interest spiking.

“Henderson… what is it?” Dustin took a swig of his beer, looking down at the top of it, his fingers playing around the can. Eddie’s eyes narrowed as he waited; he rarely saw Dustin this nervous, even before when he was DM for the club.

“Um… I… I kinda have to tell you something, actually just kind of– wanting to get something off of my chest.” He confessed, and Eddie immediately looked around to make sure no one was around, his protectiveness over Dustin’s privacy growing.

“Alright… is it bad?”

“I– No, I mean, it is? It isn’t? I’m happy, so you would… suspect it isn’t bad, but…” He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “Suzie and I broke up.”

Eddie’s eyes widened in shock because Dustin had always boasted about Suzie. He always talked about her as if she hung the stars in the sky for him. No one ever got to meet her thanks to her religion. Her parents never let her go on trips by herself, much less to meet a boy.

“Why?” He managed to ask, and Dustin sighed, taking a sip of his beer, Eddie following.

“Her religion. I… I adored Suzie, but… It wasn’t going to work out. She likes her religion, and I can’t force her out of it… Nor can she force me into it.” He explained and Eddie nodded in understanding, his heart turning a bit, knowing how much Dustin must have hurt from this.

“When did it happen?” He asked, and Dustin looked at him with a small smile, as if silently apologizing.

“A few months ago… It wasn’t something that I didn’t know was going to happen, Eddie. We both knew it was a matter of time.” Eddie was surprised to hear those words coming out of Dustin’s mouth, realizing just how much his freshman from school had grown up. Eddie patted his back in comfort, the younger man nodding as a thanks.

“Still, you could have called. You know we are here for you at all times.” He reminded his friend, and Dustin looked back down again, clearing his throat. Eddie’s eyebrows met in the middle as he saw a red hue appearing on Dustin’s ears.

“Yeah, I– Well… Someone kind of… comforted me…” Now Eddie was stunned, the words processing in his head because he understood what they meant, but he had a hard time grasping it.

“What? Who? Mike?” The younger man sighed and shook his head, clearing his throat as Eddie started noticing the nervousness that was building up in him.

“Not… Not Mike, no…” He then mumbled something really low under his breath, but Eddie only heard a hum. He moved a bit closer, his eyebrow raising in question at his friend.

“What? I didn’t catch that.” Dustin sighed and covered his mouth, mumbling again.

“... –ping… th– ne–”

“Henderson, I can’t fucking hear–”

“I’m sleeping with Jane! Jesus Christ Eddie!”

The older man’s eyes widened as he stared at Dustin. The poor guy covered his face, afraid someone had heard his outburst, but Eddie remained frozen. Jane…? His head turned to look at her, chatting away with Nancy with a smile on her face.

“I… but… She’s Mike’s ex–”

“I know.”

“And your friend.” And Dustin sighed and nodded.

“I know.” Eddie was still stunned as he looked at Dustin with a scrunched-up nose, and the younger one smacked Eddie in the arm, completely offended by his gaze. “Why are you looking at me like that!?”

“I’m sorry! It’s still hard for me to– To not see you as that weird fourteen year old who loved Alf, Henderson–” Eddie then gasped, pointing at him. “You lost your virginity with Jane–”

Dustin’s free hand flew to cover Eddie’s mouth, trying to shush him. The younger man was blushing a deep red, looking around to make sure no one was trying to come near them thanks to their antics. Eddie groaned in disgust as he pulled Dustin’s hand off his mouth, glaring back at him.

“Don’t say it so fucking loud, dickhead!” Eddie rolled his eyes, but warmth invaded his chest as he tilted his head for Dustin to continue. “I… I know… It’s fucking crazy– I mean, her and me, we know each other since… what, eleven?”

“Friends for a long time, yeah.” He was trying to understand his friend’s situation, wondering what was truly bothering him. “Are you conflicted because no one knows you’re sleeping with a friend’s ex or–”

“What, no! I know Mike wouldn’t have a problem with it… They broke up because Mike found himself, and Jane understood… It’s not really that…” Dustin’s eyes grew distant, and Eddie followed his gaze, only to see him looking at Jane. The air felt calm for some reason, as if the party around them was not happening.

“Then what is it?”

“We are hooking up… and it’s great…” He stopped for a few seconds, and Eddie saw how you approached Jane, offering her something to drink with a smile on your face. “But what if I don’t want to just hook up anymore?”

And Eddie froze for a second there.

The words banged into his skull like a rocket crashing into the moon. He frowned as his heart felt as if it were speeding up, his stomach turning the more he looked at you, the more Dustin’s words repeated inside his head. His mouth moved before he could process it.

“How do you know?”

“How do I know what?”

“How do you know you want more than just that? Maybe the sex is just… that great.” Dustin scoffed and that made Eddie lose focus on you to look back at his friend. His eyes never left Jane, not for a second.

“Because I want more than that… I want to hold her hand just because… Kiss her just because… Hug her just because… I want to go over there right now, and kiss her, in front of everyone so that people know she is mine.” Eddie stared at Dustin as if he had just discovered the library of Alexandria. He felt his body wave between hot and cold, sweats running all over him, his hair standing on end the more his younger friend’s words settled inside his gut.

“Isn’t that just you being possessive?” Dustin only chuckled at that, finally turning to look back at Eddie as if he had just told the greatest joke in the world.

“But that’s part of it. My possessiveness tells me just how much I want her to be mine and mine only.” And Eddie froze entirely, the wind moving the strands of hair in front of his face as Dustin talked. “Being possessive isn’t bad… if measured, it helps you show the other person how much you care.”

His eyes were wide, slowly turning his head to look back to where you were. Argyle and you were chatting now, and he was trying to make Will get a hit of his joint, and you were trying to bat him away. You turned your head just in time to catch him looking and Eddie didn’t turn away. He felt his heart clench as you waved at him, wincing in Argyle’s direction, asking silently for him to help you.

He gulped, his head turning to look at Dustin who was smirking at him, and before Eddie could ask, his friend got up from the chair, taking a sip of his beer, giving a triumphant ‘Ah’ as he finished it.

“I am for once the mature one.” He said and Eddie rolled his eyes, getting up from the chair and yanking Dustin’s small mullet with a harsh tug, making him yelp in a high pitched manner, making Eddie snort.

“Yeah, right.” Dustin pushed Eddie away, flipping him off with his middle finger, but Eddie couldn’t help the warm smile directed to his friend. He was indeed more mature than him today. Maybe had been for a while.

It would have been nice to grow up knowing what one truly wants. What your heart truly desires and not what your brain conjures up. To be told that everything could be a side effect. To be told that he couldn’t really be entirely normal, that his feelings were never going to be exact, or just like the others.

But when he looked at you once more, Dustin’s words started repeating themselves in his ears. Over, and over, and over again. You asked for help again with a mere look in your eyes, and he couldn’t help himself. His feet moved before he could control them, but he knew this wouldn’t happen with anybody.

No… He was only magnetized by you.

Hours had passed and the people started going back to their homes, leaving just a very few present, that included yourself, your party, a few neighbors, Wayne’s friends, and Lucia.

You were starting to put all the snacks in leftover tupperwares, knowing people had stopped eating by now, and you didn’t want the food to go soggy or bad. You felt a presence next to you, and you saw Harley bouncing on her feet a little bit. In her arms, laid her daughter, an eight month old baby, little gargles escaping her little lips. Looking at women in the pregnancy stages made you feel down, and you could admit that, but babies… Already born babies made you feel insanely fulfilled.

“I’m sorry, could you please hold my baby for a second? I have to help Lucia take down some of the decorations!” You had introduced yourself to her before in the night, but the baby then was inside her little egg crib, sound asleep.

“Oh, but don’t worry about it, I can help–”

“Nonsense, I’ve been sitting all day with the baby, and I didn’t help at all. Please, it’ll be a few minutes!” You blinked a few times as you felt you felt pressure on your chest, as if you were being squished. Your fingertips went a little cold, as you looked down at the baby. You held one baby in your life, and it was that same baby who made you realize you wanted to have kids.

You took a deep breath in as you raised your arms up, letting Harley pass the baby onto your arms delicately. You didn’t want to make any sudden movements, but when you looked down at the little thing, at those big orbs staring at you, you instantly melted. You smiled widely, your index finger reaching up to boop her nose, only for her to engulf it in her small hand.

“What’s her name?” You asked, and the mother was already rolling up the sleeves of her blouse.

“Sabrina! Okay, I promise I won’t be long! She is very friendly!” With that, Harley rushed away, leaving you behind with her baby as you saw her helping Lucia start cleaning up the tables. You looked at your friends who were all talking to each other, in their own world, and then your gaze fell back down to the sound of little gurgles in your arms.

She was so beautiful. So innocent and pure. Her life was to be written, miracles yet to happen to her. All the possibilities that could happen for her, all the people she’ll meet, and you were one of the lucky ones.

“She tried biting my finger off one time.” You heard a gruff voice say from behind you, making you snap out of your thoughts, quickly turning around, finding Wayne Munson smiling up at you from his wheelchair.

“Oh, this bundle of sunshine? No, she wouldn’t do that.” You cooed at the baby, who only smiled at your bunny kisses. The old man kept a smile on his face and he nodded to the chair next to him, motioning for you to sit down. You carefully sat down, getting comfortable with the baby in your arms.

“The most innocent-looking are the ones who turn out to be serial killers.” He joked, and you fake gasped, pretending to move the baby away.

“Do not listen to the old man, Sabrina, he doesn’t know a thing about cute, sweet princesses like you. How could you ever be a cannibal?” Wayne chuckled at your jokes and watched as you bounced the baby a little to keep her entertained. He inspected you, saw how you smiled at the little girl in your arms, and he couldn’t help himself.

“For how long?” You looked up at him, the smile still on your face.

“How long, what, sir?”

“For how long have you felt things for my son?”

Your world froze up, time stopped, and it even skipped. What did he say? What– Were you obvious? Were you too obvious? You hadn’t interacted with Eddie much today, so you didn’t know how he could have figured it out. Sweat ran all over your body like a waterfall, and it was by sheer luck that you remembered you had another human in your arms right now.

“I’m… I’m sorry, I don’t–”

“Darling, don’t worry. I won’t tell.” You were frozen in fear, caught completely red-handed by none other than his own uncle, and you didn’t miss how he called Eddie his son. Wayne saw Eddie as if he were his own. Just like Eddie told you, he sees Wayne as his father. His pops.

“I’m… I–” You didn’t know what to say. You felt your entire face burning at thousands of degrees, and how were you supposed to navigate this situation? How were you supposed to handle this? Were you supposed to lie? To tell the truth? To act like he was insane? That would be mean given the circumstances, but…

At the lack of your response, Wayne straightened up, clearing his throat to snap you back into this world, noticing the nervousness that started building inside of you.

“One time, we were out fishing. Eddie was fourteen at that time. He didn’t like fishing at fucking all, let me tell you just that, but he tried for my sake and for us to share a hobby together.” He chuckled as he remembered the day, retelling it to you– “So I took him fishing with me. He tried, and tried to get the fish, until he started throwing a tantrum when it wouldn't catch.”

You giggled a little at the story, making Wayne turn to look at you, as if asking what you were laughing about.

“I’m sorry, it just… it sounds like him.”

“Why do you say that?” Wayne contained a smile as he looked at you, your eyes falling on the baby in your arms as it did grabby hands at you.

“He gets really mad whenever he isn’t right. He once couldn’t admit to me that pickles with peanut butter tasted good, just like I said.” You commented, remembering that day that Eddie discovered that strange snack of yours. He had called you nasty, for many days, making fun of you, only to find him in the middle of the night, eating them in the darkness of the kitchen.

“He has a really bad temper sometimes. And I could barely handle that boy’s sweet tooth.”

“I fucking know! Whenever he sees me make anything with chocolate chips, he would stand next to me–” and Wayne continued, finishing the sentence for you,

“– And make sure you put almost the entire bag inside!” You laughed as you nodded, his own chuckles following soon.

Silence then wrapped around the two of you, your eyes never leaving his. You felt like you couldn’t lie to him. You felt like this man deserved to know that someone wants to make Eddie as happy as he did. For some reason you wanted Wayne to know, it felt right to let him know.

“For a while.” You answered and Wayne nodded slowly, understanding. He could see truth in your eyes, and he could feel that you would never hurt his nephew. His family. He sighed, shaking his head.

“Kids these days. You’re too scared of the what ifs that you forget to live in the moment.” You snorted a bit at the old man kind of comment. But he was right, wasn’t he? “What are you scared of?”

“I’ve… been through a lot… I guess I just don’t want to end up hurt again…” You huffed, rocking the baby in your arms a bit, shaking your head. “Kind of pointless now that it already happened but…”

Wayne nodded, and he looked down at Sabrina, who was holding onto your finger as you pretended you were shaking her hand. He smiled softly as you cooed, made babbling noises with your mouth, and then he chuckled, catching your attention.

“Pointless…? No, feelings are never pointless. They dictate who you are, where you are, who you’re with, and where you’re headed. But one has to always face them, sweetheart.” You stared at the man for a while, a small smile forming on your lips as your heart filled with warmth.

“Now I know where Eddie got the pet naming from.”

“A Munson trait, sorry about that.” He smiled at you, and you couldn’t help the lump that formed in your throat, gulping it as you whispered to him.

“I really… I really like your son.”

Wayne couldn’t help the tears that formed in his waterlines, nodding at your words. He sniffled and held his hand out for you to grab. Your hand slowly held his, and you could feel the care in his touch, the plea.

“Then don’t let him be stupid.” He said with an order, and you sniffled, nodding at him. You opened your mouth, and he stopped you, raising his free hand. “I won’t tell him… He’s staying with me for a few more days. If I know of something, I’ll tell you.”

He winked at you playfully, and you couldn’t help the wet giggle that escaped you. Your friends were unaware of the interaction that was happening a few feet away from them, or that’s what you both thought.

Steve stood next to Eddie, a little farther from the trailer. They were having a small smoke break together, and they had been talking about Eddie’s stay, knowing he would be in Hawkins for a few more days to keep Wayne company.

“You know, I can always stay if you need me here. You know that, right? Eds?” Steve said, but received no response. He frowned, looking up from the ground to see Eddie no longer looking at him, but to the horizon, wide-eyed, almost as if he were seeing a ghost. He followed the line of sight, and Steve’s face softened as he realized what Eddie was looking at.

You were laughing with Wayne, and there was a baby in your arms. He felt lightweight, like nothing in the world mattered anymore. The world turned into clouds, the other people didn’t exist. It was just you, Wayne, him, and that baby. That baby who fits so well in your arms. That baby who pressed her hands on your face when you tried to give her a kiss. Your smile mimicked the baby’s as you two laughed at his Uncle making a face.

Everything felt serene. It felt right. It felt like this: if he wanted it, he could have it. He could, couldn’t he? He wanted it. He wanted it all. You were it all. He wanted everyone to know you were his, and his only. He wanted you to know he was yours, and yours only. He wanted to take you out, he wanted to plan things with you, he wanted to be true to you, he wanted it.

He wanted you, just like you were now, and he couldn't help but pretend you were holding his baby. Not a stranger's.

His uncle looked up, and he saw Eddie looking at you two. Wayne nudged your shoulder to get your attention, and once he did, he pointed at Eddie, telling you that he was staring. Eddie saw you giggle and whisper something to his uncle, only to then see the two of you raising your middle fingers up at him, snickering together. He wasn’t even mad about that. His chest only pressed harder on him. His heart hurt more, in every perfect way.

Steve huffed, not stopping Eddie when he saw him start walking away by his own accord. He walked towards you and his uncle. The two of you pretended to be innocently playing with the baby, as if you hadn’t just flipped Eddie off from a distance. Once he reached you two, he crossed his arms over his chest.

“You two having fun mocking me or something?” Wayne rolled his eyes, his voice rough and dramatic.

“We would never do that.” You nodded at that with a small frown.

“Mhm, never ever!” Eddie’s heart tugged at him again, yet this time he didn’t fight it. Yeah, there was no need to fight it anymore, was there? The answer was here. He finally had it.

The baby suddenly cooed, and Eddie noticed her little hands trying to reach him, doing a grabby motion. He smiled, putting his arms out to tell you to hand him the baby. Your heart skipped many beats as you got up, handing the baby into his arms, and you were surprised when he handled her with such care.

His arm was underneath her, cradling her into him with ease as he wiggled his fingers on her cheek, causing her to giggle from the tickling. You bit your bottom lip as you stood next to him, looking down at the baby with a smile to your face. You were startled when he booped your nose, making you squeal a little, but that made the baby jump a bit in Eddie’s arms, scared.

And then she started crying.

Eddie gasped, his mouth wincing as he frowned, looking at you for help. You were glaring at him, stomping your foot at him.

“Now look at what you did!” You whispered in a yell to him, and he huffed, rolling his eyes your way, bouncing on his feet to rock the baby.

“I didn’t know you would react like a scaredy cat, Peach, how the fuck was I supposed–”

“Don’t curse!!! It’s a baby! She might catch on to it!” The baby’s cries kept going as you two kept bickering, but Eddie never once stopped rocking it, and you never once stopped trying to send funny faces between the words being exchanged.

And Wayne watched it all. He watched how his nephew was surrounded by his friends. He had support. He watched how the boy he took in and raised as his own son, turned out to be a good man. Eddie wasn’t perfect, no one really was. But Wayne didn’t want to leave without knowing Eddie would be okay.

And there’s you. He knew. Everyone would take care of Eddie, but Wayne had always hoped to find someone like you. He had always hoped that someone would care for Eddie in the same levels he cared for him. And he found that person. You were calling his nephew names, but Wayne knew you didn’t mean a single one of them.

Eddie would not be alone. He had trust that his nephew, his son, would not be stupid. That he would keep fighting, despite the fear. To keep grasping to the things he wants, and to never let go of them. Wayne knew he could do that with you.

He can finally say that it was all worth it. It will be worth it in the end. Because seeing Eddie smiling down at you without you noticing, tells Wayne everything he needs to know. Eddie would not give up on you, and he could have a moment’s peace knowing his son is going to be taken care of.

He could finally breathe.

He could finally relax.

Two days after his birthday, Wayne Munson passed away in the warmth of his bed, accompanied by his family.

end of chapter 24

a/n: im sorry.

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leiascully · 2 days ago

Note

Today is the cunnilungus and cake Hollywood. Could I prompt you to write how do you think Mulder and Scully celebrated?

Ah yes, Mulder's favorite holiday.

“I got cake from that bakery,” Scully said, coming into the house and shrugging off her coat. She swapped the paper bag from hand to hand as she shook her arms out of the sleeves. “One for you, one for me.”

“What’s the occasion?” Mulder prowled over, taking the bag from her and opening it to take a whiff as she hung up her coat. “Mm.” He set the bag on the coffee table.

“No reason,” Scully said. She looked up at him, trying not to smile. She could feel she was failing, the integrity of her indifference compromised. She surrendered, smiled, leaned back against the door. He canted toward her like magnets were pulling him closer. “Just felt like a day for cake. An after-dinner treat.”

“Is that so?” he murmured. He put one hand on either side of her, holding her against the door. “What I’m too hungry to wait?”

“I suppose we could indulge,” she said, tilting her head back as he kissed her neck. For long, melting moments they explored each other’s mouths, lips and tongues and teeth and panting breath. He pushed his thigh between hers as far as the tight fabric of her skirt would allow. She undid the buttons of her blouse one at a time and he kissed lower and lower. His knees cracked as he knelt in front of her and pushed her skirt up, rumpling the fabric slowly over her thighs as his hands cupped her legs and then her ass. His eyes widened. He looked up at her, lust and laughter mingling in his expression.

“I could have sworn you were wearing panties this morning,” he said. “I remember wishing you weren’t.”

“I know all about your sweet tooth,” she told him. “I took them off in the car.”

“Scully,” he said in a pleased rumble, and nudged her thighs open. He gazed fondly up at her, stroking one finger along her folds. “You’re so damn hot.”

“Not stale after all these years?” she said wryly.

“Never,” he said, his voice firm, and then he was pushing his face between her legs, spreading her folds wide with his fingers, licking into her. Her eyes rolled back. She let her head loll against the door. Out here, they had no neighbors. She could moan as loud as she wanted. No fellow agents lurking outside, no motel manager to bang on the door with a noise complaint. She could put voice to every sensation that Mulder’s limber tongue was giving her, and it would only make him shiver and tonguefuck her faster.

Mulder ate pussy like it was his one true calling in life. Fuck aliens, fuck cryptids, and double-fuck the truth-with-a-capital-T: cunnilingus superceded them all. Maybe it was his full lower lip, or his clever tongue, or the fact that his face was the perfect shape to ride for an hour while he made her shudder with orgasm after orgasm. The beard burn had been worth it every time. The time they’d been apart, she’d only worn plain black underwear, her cunt in mourning. No toy could compare to Mulder’s magic mouth, and she’d tried more than a few.

God, she was lucky.

He made hungry sounds as his tongue traced delicately around her clit. He was holding himself back, deliberately, and she loved his restraint and wanted to break him simultaneously. She pushed her hips toward him and he drew back just enough to keep that same light pressure. Pleasure sparked through her, brighter and more intense than the warmth his mouth had already kindled in her.

“Be nice, Scully, I like to savor my sweets,” he said.

“God,” she said as his tongue stroked her again, all her witty responses forgotten. “Fuck. Mulder, please.”

“Soon,” he said. Over and over he traced shapes on her clit, patterns she couldn’t begin to understand. She was dizzy with sensation and with need. Her fingers clutched in his hair. She couldn’t understand how he held himself back. She hoped he kept going forever.

“Mulder, I want you inside me,” she said, only half aware of the words. “Make me come, please, make me come so hard.”

His groan was a promise. But he was still teasing her, his touch feather-light. When she pushed her hips at him again, he pinned her against the door with his strong forearms and she gasped.

“I wanted this all day,” she told him. “In the office. Like when we were younger. Bend me over the desk and have me for lunch. I wanted to ride you in that ergonomic chair.” Her cunt ached with the need for release. Her whole body was tingling. She let go of his hair and cupped her tits, her thumbs rubbing idly over her nipples. He growled a little, in reprimand or jealousy, and finally sucked her clit into his mouth. She yelped in delighted surprise. Heat flooded through her body. She came, just like that, shivers turning into shudders as Mulder’s mouth pulled at her sensitive skin.

Mulder picked her up and carried her to the couch, laying her flat and diving between her legs again before she’d even had a chance to come down from her first orgasm. She’d lost her shoes at some point, which was probably good given the way she was digging her heels into his back. No delicacy this time: his tongue was rough, working her smooth, licking from entrance to clit and back. She could feel his mouth sliding against the slickness of her cunt. Her back arched, lifting her hips against his mouth. He sucked harder, until the pleasure was almost pain, and she loved it, her moans sharp and breathy in her own ears.

“Fuck me,” she begged, but he wouldn’t, he didn’t, not until he’d dragged another orgasm out of her. Only when she was gasping through the aftershocks did he fumble his pants open and sink into her, both of them still wearing most of their clothes, his mouth wet with her moisture. She licked the taste of herself off his lips, nipping at him. He flipped them over so that she was on his lap as he knelt, her back pressed into the cushions. She spread her legs wide, taking him as deep as she could, one hand stroking his chest and one hand working her nipple. He had the other breast well in hand as his free fingers stroked her clit. She came again, a shallow ripple, but he groaned as he felt her muscles clutching.

“Let go,” she urged, and he surged up into her, fucking her into the couch. Something about the angle was so, so good. She could feel the pleasure building again, deeper, different. She pushed his hand away from her overstimulated clit.

“Enough?” he asked, his thrusts slowing.

“No,” she said fiercely, squeezing her thighs against his. God, he was so solid inside her, thick and hot like no one else. She could have picked him out, blindfolded at an orgy, just from the feel of him.

“Scully,” he gasped, a warning, and she opened herself to him even more. He pounded into her. She felt the shudder of his hips and the gush of heat as he came, so deep inside her, but fuck, he was hitting just the right spot. She rode him frantically, chasing her pleasure, and he strained up into her, trying to give her what she needed even as his cock started to soften. And oh, there it was, an orgasm that rippled through her like an earthquake, so deep she felt it in her bones. She cried out, a wordless sound of rapture. Mulder moaned, watching her, holding her.

“Yes,” she said, “God, yes,” and she couldn’t stop saying it. The comedown was leisurely, aftershocks shimmering through her. Mulder pulled out of her and lay down on the couch, holding her against him.

“Scully,” he said.

“Mmm.”

“I don’t need cake for my birthday this year. I just want to eat my fill of you.”

She laughed softly. “Sounds like an endurance event.”

“We’ve got time to train,” he teased.

“First, we need to make dinner,” she said.

“You’re right,” he said, though his hands stroking down her ribs suggested round two rather than three courses. “Gotta keep our strength up.” She pushed gently at his chest and he rolled off the couch and gave her a hand up.

“If you want to go clean up and change, I’ll start peeling and chopping,” he said.

She leaned up and kissed him. It had been a long, long road to this place of peace, but they deserved it. He looked at her with shining eyes.

“It’s just a simple veggie pasta,” he murmured, but his smile was tender.

“It’s never just anything with you,” she said lovingly.

“Yeah,” he said, one syllable that held decades of mistakes and mending and sin and sacrifice and joy. Most of all, joy. “Thanks for picking up cake. It’s nice to celebrate sometimes.”

“Cake and cunnilingus day,” she said. “Our new holiday. We can replace all those hodgepodge anniversaries. Start fresh.”

“It rolls off the tongue,” he said with a wink. “So to speak. Although cake and cunt has a certain ring to it.”

She sighed at him, but as she climbed the stairs to the bedroom, she was smiling. Their bedroom. Their house. Their relationship. It was all the sweet she needed.

#my fic #leiascully fic #grown and sexy #poangpals #xfiles fanfic #msr fanfic

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whumpsday · 3 days ago

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hheeeeyyyyyy!!!

I have a couple of quick questions for you if you don't mind. If you dont feel comfortable answering, don't feel pressure to! I was just thinking of some senarios where Kane got his hands on a second bloodbag, and what would happen in the following situations;

What would Kane's introductory speech be like for the new bloodbag? What would the rules be? I imagine he'd be a lot harsher!

If, a couple weeks in, whumpee offered themself up for punishment for something kane doesn't consider bad, like breaking a dish on accident, what would he do? How would he react if they insist if he says no?

Assuming he lets them into the living room like he did with jim, how would he respond to them refusing to use the furniture?

A couple months in, how would he react to them asking for a hug, like in your nice thought chapter? Im really intrested in this one!

What if he woke up to the whumpee sleeping at the end of his bed, on the floor? Would he be mad? And how would he act if they told him it was because they had a nightmare?

i have like a dozen more questions of the same variety but im sure I've bothered you enough. I love your writing, please never stop! Lots of love!

this is a scenario that i LOVE LOVE LOVE!!! kane swiping someone who's already conditioned from having previously been a whumpee, especially if he ends up unwittingly kidnapping them from another whumper, is SO good. however, i'd never thought about what that would be like if they were his second human after jim escapes.

he would be very strict and harsh in the beginning, and would not hesitate to jump to violence for even small things right from the get-go. however, given the described whumpee's personality, i don't imagine they would end up victim to much of kane's wrath anyway.

If, a couple weeks in, whumpee offered themself up for punishment for something kane doesn't consider bad, like breaking a dish on accident, what would he do?

kane would definitely be surprised! if this happens near the beginning, he'd probably slap them and snap at them to be more careful. whumpee wouldn't need to insist or even offer in the first place. (he'd be more reluctant to use violence later on)

Assuming he lets them into the living room like he did with jim, how would he respond to them refusing to use the furniture?

he'd think it's weird but wouldn't argue

A couple months in, how would he react to them asking for a hug, like in your nice thought chapter? Im really intrested in this one!

so here's the thing. this whumpee is basically ~kane's perfect human~. i imagine this human is well-behaved, obedient, and given this request, affectionate. kane would quickly become less harsh with them. a couple months is probably too soon for kane to grant this request, and he would say no. however, maybe at the half-year mark he'd agree and hug them.

What if he woke up to the whumpee sleeping at the end of his bed, on the floor? Would he be mad? And how would he act if they told him it was because they had a nightmare?

well whumpee should be locked in the human quarters nowhere near his bedroom, so he'd COMPLETELY FLIP OUT ON THEM. how did they escape?? i'm going to assume this takes place maybe a year in, and at that point, kane is attached enough to this whumpee that he won't be violent, but he is still going to yell at them quite a lot. he's honestly less mad and more panicked/freaked out--if whumpee had made different choices, he could have lost a second human. however, it still appears like he's super super angry with them. he doesn't give a shit about their nightmare in this moment.

after he's sent them back to their room and triple checked the lock, and had some time to calm down, it occurs to him that whumpee didn't run away. they intentionally came to him and didn't even attempt to escape. the next evening, when he's had time to process everything, he lets whumpee know that he's not mad at them, that they did a good job by not running away, and asks them about the nightmare. he's actually much more friendly to them from this point forward and allows them more (relative) freedom, trusting them more.

thank you so much for your support! please feel free to send more questions! <3

#ask #k&j ask

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lucky13cat · 19 hours ago

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Snippet of my latest Kingdon WIP:

Mel's date ends up with her accompanying said date to the Pitt. No one is pleased with this course of events. Least of all Dr. Langdon.

Mel was beginning to deeply regret agreeing to this date.

Not that it was bad or that her date was a jerk. Neither were really true. The date, meeting up at an arcade bar for drinks and friendly competition, had been nice in the way that she hadn't hated it. It was her second time going out like this with this particular person, and the first time had gone well enough that saying yes to a second had made sense. A simple decision really. Becca had been happy to hear about it though she had smiled and asked if she'd told Dr. Langdon about it.

Which Mel hadn't. Frank was her friend, and she really loved working with him. Talking about her dating life felt treacherous, especially considering his very recent divorce and her own feelings about him she chose not to acknowledge. Frank was her friend. She'd tell him if the second date led to a third. Maybe.

The second time was shaping up to be just like the first date, good with no reason to turn down another. She'd liked the skeeball machines, and the pretzel she'd ordered had been tasty though she'd not enjoyed her drink, alcohol was hit or miss with her. And Fisher, her date, had been nice and not the least bit offended when she'd demolished him at said skeeball machines and stuck with one drink. Which was... nice.

In truth, the date would have perhaps prompted a third had an unfortunate accident not occured.

Alcohol and throwing games should not be combined. Especially when said alcohol is in glass cups.

Mel doesn't see it happen. She's turned her head to stare at the machine in front of them to see how many points Fisher manages. He's quite bad at skeeball which is probably why in his drawback he'd managed to not only shatter the pint glass of someone behind them but also end up with a shard of glass through his palm.

The one time she doesn't have her emergency kit on her too.

By the time she's managed to convince Fisher not to pull the shard out and stabilize his hand for the inevitable ride to the hospital, someone's called 911. An ambulance rolls up just as she's paying their check.

"You coming?"

Technically, she did not have to get in the ambulance. This was only her second date with Fisher, which usually meant she was free to let him be on his way, but that would mean heading either back into the bar or home. Neither option sounded great, and she'd certainly be wracked with guilt if anything else happened to Fisher. So, with a sigh, she'd pulled herself into the back of the ambulance after Fisher was loaded up.

She'd asked the paramedics to take them to Presby. Both had recognized her from work, which was definitely the reason they'd let her climb in. One of them had shaken their head while the other climbed into the driver's seat.

"Sorry Dr. King, the Pitt's closer."

"Ah," Mel tried very hard not to feel defeated. "Alright then."

She checked her phone. 6:27. Hopefully, everyone from day shift suddenly decided to leave early.

#the pitt #kingdon #mel x frank #mel king #frank langdon #langdonmel

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nixcloud · 1 day ago

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A Face For Radio: POV Harry

Drarry - Sports Reporter x Star Quidditch Player AU

Ballycastle Bats team | Draco's POV | Authors Note @ end Ballycastle Bats vs. Chudley Cannons – International Cup Qualifier to determine who will represent Britain in the World Cup

“Ooohhhhhh!”

“There he is!”

“So nice of Britain’s MVP to finally grace us with his presence!”

Harry dramatically buried his face in his hands and blindly stumbled toward his locker, thunking his forehead against the metal with a groan.

“Ugh!”

“Oh no,” Seffana gasped, eyes wide and voice dripping with mock horror as she waved around her bat. “I didn’t know the Chosen One was going to be here today! D’you think I could get an autograph?” She held out her heavily tattooed forearm and a marker dramatically.

“Shut it,” Harry mumbled into his locker, throwing his duffle inside without looking.

“You're 20 minutes late, what happened?” Julia asked, arms crossed, punctuating the question with a loud crack of her gum. Eyeing him distastefully.

“Slept through my alarm…”

“What do you mean you slept through your alarm? The rest of us couldn't get a wink because we were too nervous about this big game.” Adelaide chimed in as she stepped out of the lav, tossing her long braid over her shoulder.

Harry shrugged, peeling off his hoodie. “Well, only one thing really keeps me up at night” and he spun around to face his teammates “and that's voldemort's ugly mug!” He used one finger to flatten out the point of his straight nose for emphasis.

But…. No one laughed….

They all just blinked at each other awkwardly, and Harry continued to squish his nose to his face…

”...get it because he doesn't have a…” and he pressed down on his nose again, and still it was met with silence “…not funny?”

“Bro,” came Riordans tired drawl, “No.”

“Yeah… real mood killer, mate.” Dhruv, one of their reserve chasers, called from where he leaned against his locker.

Everyone stood around awkwardly. Harry still squishing his nose.

It wasn’t until Westly, their gangly mischievous beater, let out a snort he tried to disguise as a cough that the entire locker room exploded into laughter.

Harry bent over, holding his stomach as he laughed. His wild hair flopped into his face, stubble still unshaven, bronze cheeks glowing with amusement. He had been a bit nervous at the beginning of pre-season when the Ballyastle Bats had picked him from the draft.

He had missed out on a lot of the training most other pro athletes had gotten in their youth, he had been busy then…

So when he decided to go for quidditch tryouts he was under no illusions, he knew that his name would take him farther than his skill, but still he had been excited when he had been signed to the Appleby Arrows. It had been a long time since their hay day and it seemed to have done a number on his then teammates' confidence. Because none of them invited him out for a pint or joked with him, or mentioned him by anything less than Mr. Potter. Even though he was a decade younger than most.

It wasn't bad. He loved quidditch, and flying with such experienced players gave him a great opportunity to strengthen his own skills. But it hadn't been the life he had hoped for. When he told the Arrows’ coach he wasn’t renewing his contract and was reentering the draft, they’d had an argument.

Harry wasn't proud of his anger…. He had gotten good at managing it, but he struggled with authority even on a good day, and that bastard had a god complex. So who could blame harry for telling him “Just because your Patronus is a bloody whistle doesn’t mean you get to go around demanding people jump at your blow!” and when he started yelling Harry MIGHT have hit him with a hair loss curse. But no one was around. And that was hearsay.

Anyoneone who knew Harry wasn't surprised when he showed up in the draft with absolutely nothing positive on paper from his old team. However he had been surprised when so many teams made a bid for him after 4 years of mediocre seeker showmanship.

And even more surprised when the manager of the Ballycastle Bats had asked him to a private dinner to discuss a contract and what she envisioned for his future. It was kind, it sounded great, and even though his favorite team had also made a bid for him, it was for a reserve position…

It didn't hurt that Harry had always been partial to red uniforms…despite his love of the team, imagining being donned in an orange frock to fly laps gave him a headache.

Ron nearly strangled him when he turned down the cannons, but the Bats, they had a lot to offer.

They weren’t nice, exactly. But they were fiercely loyal. They challenged each other. The worst player each week bought the first round of Friday night drinks. They sent flowers to his parents’ graves when Harry missed practice for their death anniversary. They were... good. And he hadn't been this happy in a while.

For one, he hadn't laughed this hard in ages, the room was filled with laughter and snorting, and people slapping their lockers, and gasping for breath.

“WHAT IN THE WORLD IS GOING ON IN HERE!”

Immediately everyone's mouths shut with an audible clack of teeth. Spines straightened. Their coach's face was already turning redder than her hair as she stalked in.

”Ok to get us started….” Another voice came from around the corner to the locker room entrance, steps getting closer “OH MERLIN WHY ARE NONE OF YOU DRESSED!!! If you’re not in full uniform by the time I drop off this press kit, I swear I’m terminating all of your contracts!” Their manager screamed, and before it could echo off the tiles Lockers flew open. Players scrambled. Flying trousers were yanked on in every direction.

The trousers were easy, soft and smooth fabric. And the color? Red uniforms were classic, nostalgic, romantic even. Harry always felt it was the best uniform color.

He whipped off his shirt and propped one foot on the bench, bending low to strap on his knee and calf guards. Velcro ripped through the room like applause.

He stretched once, deeply arching his back to pop something stiff in his lower spine. His wingspan flexed as he rolled his shoulders, before righting himself.

All his teammates stood in a shirtless circle around the bench. Everyone looking somewhat grim, their muscles and skin on display.

Of course their fearless leader, their team captain Julia, took it on herself to speak up. “Alright. Which Bat’s up first?”

No one volunteered for a long minute so Harry grabbed Westly’s arm and tossed him into the middle of the circle ignoring his indignant yelp, someone had to get the ball rolling on this.

“Bastard!” Westly yelled, reflexively catching the large purple bottle their captain chucked at him.

“You all better be gentle, this is an important game," he grumbled.

Flipping the lid open and pouring a generous amount of lube into his palm, warming it for a second before beginning to spread it over his chest, down onto his stomach and then onto his back and shoulders.

“Assume the position!” Their captain barked, Harry was sure he could hear the huff their coach off in the hallway, but paid her no mind as Westly raised his arms straight above his head and bent at a perfect 90-degree angle, sighing like a martyr.

“Westly don't move, everyone else get ready.”

Riley and Kieu approached him, high ponytails swaying behind them, holding shiny black fabric,

“Ok there we go stretch it wide.”

And then the two bats began to stretch the compression jersey over his arms, tugging it roughly so the spandex wouldn't get stuck. Finally the shirt made it down the tops of his shoulders. Riley and Kieu grabbed Westly’s hands to keep him steady while the 2 other chasers began to pull the shirt slowly down his back, everyone careful not to let it bunch up. There was nothing worse then when the too small shirt got stuck all bunched up suffocating and hard to untangle. It was everyone's worst nightmare, and the shirts were so tight they were nearly impossible to put on on one's own, which is how this team building tradition started.

During the last 2 weeks of their pre-season the manager and coach had presented them with the new tight uniforms, and it had taken literally an hour for everyone to get them on, their manager assured them they would stretch out and the benefit was being more aerodynamic. But after a week none of them could get it on, and at friday night drinks their captain had drunkenly suggested they raid the chosen ones locker for lube and everyone had cackled. But come Monday morning no one could stop thinking about it and well... There were few problems a bit of lube couldn’t solve.

And so, a new pre-game ritual was born. Lubing up and suiting up.

Everyone took turns lubing up and having their compression shirts stretched over them. Occasionally someone would shout “Add more lube!” or complain about someone else’s oversized head, but eventually, everyone was clothed. Gleaming. Slick. United.

“If we’re not the most aerodynamic team in the league, I’ll eat my broom,” muttered Riordan, giving them all a frankly illegal once-over.

Their manager returned, box in hand. “You’re dressed. Good. I was beginning to think I’d have to commit career suicide.”

Everyone chuckled nervously.

The coach joined her and the team crowded onto the locker room benches.

“Ok first things first let's go over our starting lineup, and innital plays.” The coach tucked her long red hair behind her ear, flipping around her black and red clipboard to show a few hand drawn plays. Everyone listened intently, asking relevant questions and confirming their roles.

“OK!” their manager clapped, and all eyes were on her, she smiled wide “I have presents!” she spun around her red robes accentuating her movements and her long dark braids fluttering about. A reverent silence fell as she opened a large box.

“Since this match decides who represents Britain in the Cup, we thought it was time to pull out the big guns.” She smiled slyly. “Not to count our Mandracs before they sprout, but we’d like to remind everyone who they’re cheering for.”

“WOAH!”

“BLOODY HELL THAT'S AWESOME!”

“MERLIN!”

Gasps echoed through the room as she held up their brand new capes. The ones they had only heard about in hushed whispers as their admin was preparing for IF they won today.

They were pure, perfect black. So dark they held no reflection, so dark they made the rest of their uniform look gray. The fabric was cut to mimicked real bat wings, with crimson embroidery tracing the lines of imagined bones. Heavy leather straps hung across the shoulders like harnesses. It was eerie and perfect.

And then their manager flipped it around revealing red block numbers, 16, “Captain come claim your prize!”

Their captain approached mouth agape, and she carefully took the fabric in her hands. “It's so light… stunning!” she whispered in awe. And the manager just smiled, that soft warm smile she had.

One by one, capes were passed out.

Harry’s was last.

The manager approached him quietly, pressing it into his hands like it was something sacred.

Then she leaned in, and spoke low enough so only he could hear.

“You definitely need a shave today”

Harry grinned sheepishly.

She rolled her eyes, fond but exasperated, and tapped her earpiece. “Just got the ping. The Silver Snitch is in the press box.”

“OHHHHHHhhhhhhhh,” Westly drawled behind him.

But Harry didn’t stick around long enough to be teased. His team had wrung every possible joke out of his Silver Snitch obsession weeks ago. He doubted there was a single pun, insinuation, or faux-sultry impression of the man’s voice left to try.

He ducked into the lav, heart beating a little too fast, and stood before the row of mirrors above the sinks.

Right. He wanted to look good today. Great, even.

He splashed a bit of cold water on his face and leaned in, eyeing the stubble he hadn’t managed to shave that morning, slowly beginning to glide his razer over his jaw.

Today was important, he loved Quidditch. Not just playing. But listening to it, obsessing over stats. Collecting the player cards charmed to smell like broom polish.

Of course, most of this fanfare was born from Ron, who’d introduced him to the Chudley Cannons during their first year at Hogwarts like it was a sacred rite. It had been life changing. Not because of the Cannons, though he’s supported them for years out of stubborn loyalty, but because that was how Harry learned to love the sport. Really, properly love it.

His dad had been a great Seeker, sure, but Harry hadn’t known that until after he’d fallen in love with flying. Like most kids from Muggle households, he hadn’t even heard of Quidditch before Hogwarts.

So when Ron started playing radio reruns in their dorm after class, Harry had soaked it in like a sponge. The roar of the crowd. The dry wit of the commentators. The details, lineups, fouls, play styles, rivalries, it was like learning another language, and he’d become fluent overnight.

Even during the war, they’d kept that tiny radio in their tent. Mostly it played music, or grim updates from Potterwatch. But now and again, they'd catch a recording from the Hogwarts pitch or an international match not yet canceled by the Death Eaters. It had kept them sane. Or at least distracted.

And Harry had never stopped listening. To pre-match shows. To post-match breakdowns. To entire broadcasts of games he’d just played in.

He liked hearing how the experts spun things. Liked hearing what he could’ve done better. Liked hearing him.

Because right around the time Harry joined the league, a new broadcast had popped up. It was cleverly titled Post to Post, a live play-by-play for British teams.

He’d tuned in on a whim, and he had never recovered.

It was some match he didn’t even care about. He’d joined halfway through and missed the host’s name entirely. But that voice wasn’t one he’d heard before. It was—

Deep.

Buttery.

And laced with this wicked sort of wit that made Harry laugh even when nothing funny was happening. He could describe a routine throw like it was poetry. Could slow down a play to analyze it and still have time to slip in a perfectly timed dig at a player’s haircut. Harry had found himself on the edge of his seat and anticipation, breath caught, spine tingling.

By the time the game ended, his heart was pounding in his chest.

He asked around, of course. But no one seemed to know who the broadcaster was, or where the show came from. It wasn’t official league programming, that was for sure. No sponsors. No glossy production. Just an anonymous voice and a good microphone.

And so Harry became one of the Silver Snitch’s first regular listeners.

The next time it aired, he made sure to catch it from the start.

“Welcome back to Post to Post with the Silver Snitch,” the voice had purred through the radio.

He couldn’t decide if the pseudonym was arrogant or brilliant. But regardless he knew that there was no way he was putting a face to that radio voice. It painted a very nice mental picture though.

Harry had been obsessed ever since.

He’d listened religiously to every game. Every post-match interview. Every debate show, every throwaway segment where the Silver Snitch broke down plays with precision and charm. It wasn't a rare occasion for him to fall asleep at night to that warm syrupy voice whispering in his ear.

And now… he was here.

At harry’s match.

Harry turned back to the mirror, eyes flicking across his reflection. Jawline decent. Cheeks flushed from adrenaline. He tousled his curls with a little Sleekeazy’s until they framed his face in soft, windswept waves.

Then, carefully, he began to strap on his cape, fastening the harness across his chest, and rejoined his teammates.

“Ohhh, there he is! The handsome, the unstoppable, the Savior of the Wizarding World! Potter himself!” Seffana started up again.

Harry rolled his eyes as he walked back in. “Save it.”

“You got all cleaned up to meet the man, didn’t you?” came Noemie, mockingly affectionate.

“Oh, absolutely,” Dhruv chimed in. “Bet he’s a silver fox. All posh, wears cravats to breakfast. There’s no way that wizard’s under forty.”

Everyone laughed.

“I’m holding out hope shes a hot milf using a voice charm,” Riordan said solemnly. “Plus, Harry would make a good dad. It’d work out perfectly!”

A chorus of hums and grunts followed, everyone nodding along as though imagining it made sense.

“Alright, alright,” Harry groaned, waving them off as his ears turned bright red. “Forget it. Aren’t we supposed to be on the field already?”

“Oh, don’t worry,” Kieu smirked. “We’ll see for ourselves soon enough.”

Harry rolled his eyes again, but the fluttering in his chest didn’t stop.

Everyone grabbed their brooms and began lining up. Their team captain strolled down the line, eyeing each of them with mock scrutiny.

“Well,” she said, pausing at the front. “Even if we’re not aerodynamic, I know one thing, we’re the best looking team in the league.”

“What do you mean? With jerseys this tight, we better be getting a speed advantage,” Kieu muttered, tugging at the clingy fabric stretched over her abs.

“Well, for most of us, yeah,” Riley said. “But Potter and Seffana over there? Not so much.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” Seffana demanded, disgruntled.

Julia smirked and strolled over. Without warning, she grabbed the harness straps across Harry’s chest and yanked them sharply, cinching them even tighter.

Harry choked out a startled sound as the straps pressed snugly against his pecs.

“For you two,” she said, eyeing the both of them, “these jerseys aren’t helping with aerodynamics. They’re just rubbing it in our faces how flat chested the rest of us are.”

The room exploded with laughter, Harry included, even as he tried to cover his face.

“I swear to Merlin,” Riley wheezed, “I’ve been wearing two bras and I still can’t get this jersey to do me any favors.”

“Meanwhile,” she gestured at Harry’s chest dramatically, “Potter over here’s got Quidditch titty physics working in his favor.”

“Should’ve been the Chosen One for that alone,” Dhruv snorted.

Harry groaned. “You’re all deeply unwell.”

Just then, their coach clapped twice and strode into the locker room. “Alright, alright, save the tit talk for after we win, yeah?”

Everyone scrambled into position, falling into two neat rows facing the tunnel.

Their manager jogged to the front, voice raised over the rumble of the crowd just beyond the stadium walls.

“What are we?”

“BATS!” the team shouted.

“What do we do?”

“CASTLE!”

“How do we win?”

“ECHOLOCATION!”

She grinned at their ridiculously serious chant, raised a fist, then turned on her heel and flung the tunnel doors open.

The roar of the stadium surged in like a tidal wave. And the Ballycastle Bats launched forward in a blur of red and black.

The euphoria was instant, the whole stadium was alive with their colors. Glittering confetti was raining over them. Harry kept his body low to his broom just like they practiced a hundred times. Speeding out as the leader of their sharp pyramid formation. He felt the way his cape thundered behind him, and could tell that the crowd was building on their ambiance.

They messed around alot in the locker room and during practice. But as soon as they set out for a match they sobered up quickly. Each of them slipping into their intense, hyper focused personas. They were bats, they flew fast, they traveled in packs, and were known to be blood thirsty.

The Seeker always flew point. Not just for the drama of it, but for control. He set the route. He controlled the pace. And he never had to look behind to know the rest of the formation was right there with him.

He banked upward, shooting toward the upper stands where the team’s guests were seated.

The wind stung his eyes, but he could still spot the bright orange blob in the front row of Bats fans. Ron, predictably, was still decked out head-to-toe in his tragic Cannons gear, standing tall and shouting like a man possessed. Hermione beside him had conjured an elegant banner with Harry’s name in charmed ink that shimmered when it caught the light.

Luna, Nevil, and Ginny took the row behind them throwing as much red and black confetti as they could manage. Harry even spotted Andromeda tucked among a few of the Weasleys, wrapped in a deep crimson shawl.

But he didn’t see the one person he was most desperate to spot. Until he looked farther down the aisle.

There. Being lifted above the crowd by Arthur Weasley, held aloft like a prized trophy, was Teddy. Hair shifted into the perfect shade of Ballycastle red with a bold streak of black. His little hand stretched as far as it could reach, grinning

Harry slowed them down just enough that everyone could put eyes on their people, remind them who they were playing for.

He reached out and high fived the young boy who squealed with excitement. It was exactly what he needed.

And so with gusto he turned their formation zooming around the arena in a full loop before coming to float in formation near center field.

The sun warmed Harry’s skin through his uniform, but inside, his stomach was a mess of butterflies and liquid nerves. They were minutes away from the quaffle being tossed. But first: Press.

One by one players broke from the wings of their pyramid, and zoomed toward the press box to be formally introduced over the stadium. Got to pose at the box and lock eyes with the man whose voice had lived in his head for months. Meaning Harry, nervous, sweaty-palmed, hopelessly lovestruck Harry, was dead last.

Adelaide took off first, her cape’s bright red twelve gleaming in the sun as she rocketed toward the press box. From formation, Harry could already tell she was milking it, tossing her hair about and striking fun poses. She was reserve only because their starting beaters were top 10 in the league, but don't let her flirtation fool you; she was a terror on a broom.

He could here her introduction boom around the arena, as the non partisan announcer began alternating introducing players from each team.

Adelaide zoomed back toward formation, screaming with laughter.

“YOU WON’T BELIEVE IT, POTTER!” she shrieked, blazing past him too fast for any follow up. She spiraled down to the sidelines, still howling.

His head whipped desperately between her and the press box, but was stuck in his formation till it was his time.

Dhruv Bakshi was up next, and it felt like an eternity before he returned his laugh echoed from the sideline.

“Potter, you’re done for!” he called gleefully.

“OMG HES HOT” Noémie Leveret, shouted as she plummeted towards the reserve bench.

Riordan MacEvenny returned from his introduction, breathless: “I cannot believe.”

Their captain was particularly damning as she shouted, “You’re never hearing the end of this, you know that, right? This is our entire personality for the rest of the season,” before peeling off into her starting position.

Harry wanted to fly away and hide. This was his nightmare.

A beautiful, terrible, sultry-voiced nightmare.

He hovered alone at midfield, white-knuckled on his broom. Sweat prickled at his hairline. Harness pressing a bit too tightly into him on every inhale.

And then, finally, it was Harry’s turn.

He was a Seeker. He had to show off his speed. That’s what he’d tell them later, when they inevitably mocked him for breaking the sound barrier just to get to the press box.

He was moving so fast he could barely see, but when he’d asked their manager to send a personal invitation to the Silver Snitch, he’d begged her to place him dead center in the press box. So there’d be no mistake. No confusion.

Harry did a dramatic flip on his broom, got the crowd going and gave him the perfect stop, meer meters from the reporters. And there he was.

Haloed in sunlight. Sitting impossibly upright in his chair, all long limbs and posh posture. Platinum blond hair gently tousled beneath oversized headphones. A soft blue suit, glowing in the over saturated room.

Draco. Bloody. Malfoy.

Harry barely breathed. His heart went supersonic. Every sense flared, white hot, as their eyes locked across the balcony.

Those grey eyes were wide with recognition, just as stunned as Harry’s. But Draco had known, hadn’t he? He’d accepted the invitation. He was here. Harry froze, unable to speak, unable to look away.

Then Draco leaned into the mic, the pale column of his throat bobbing with a swallow, and without charm or magic, he spoke.

It was like warm honey poured over silver spoons. It was velvet and smoke and old magic and every dream Harry had ever refused to admit out loud.

That voice. That voice. Coming from that mouth, the one Harry knew could be haughty and whinny, and mean, and nervous and clever and so, so kissable.

His past obsession had just collided, violently, with his current one.

His name deep and smooth off those wet pink lips Draco breathed “Harry James Potter.”

Harry licked his dry lips. Let his eyes drag over every inch, suit, headphones, flushed cheeks, the badge on his chest, and god help him, the red and black lanyard around that pale throat. His colors.

And then he took off toward the starting lineup.

Ruined.

Absolutely, gloriously ruined.

He was definitely going to win this game.

#Authors note: this is just a little AU i have been playing with on bluesky! the team is all OC's with no real bg info for now! not sure if ill every really write anything more then HC's for this one tho! - Nix

#harry potter #draco malfoy #hp #drarry #hpdm #dlm #hjp #drarry fic #a face for radio #LOL harrys dumber and more wild POV!!#hehe having fun with this HC but it prolly wont be more then random blurbs... but my actual fic is almost done #so maybe ill focus on a new longer project soon #nix writes #nixcloud

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ashortdropandasuddenstop · 1 day ago

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James had fully intended to keep some kind of wall up.

Truly, he had. But then Roman did that—that ridiculously calculated olive bite like it was the most natural thing in the world—and James found his gaze lingering. Just a second too long.

His jaw shifts, and he tries to pass it off as casual interest, but it’s not casual at all. His tongue grazes the inside of his cheek, then briefly wets his lower lip—subtle, absent. Or at least, it would’ve been, if not for the quiet hunger starting to cloud those unnaturally green eyes.

He liked male attention more than he admitted. Liked it especially when it came dressed in tailored suits, sly smirks, and stories told through perfect lips over high-end martinis (Which he paid for with a nice wad of cash from his wallet, proving he was a man of wealth and breeding himself.) Especially when it came from someone who looked like him.

Refined. Dangerous. Unruly in the right ways.

He leaned back into the booth like he was beginning to settle in. He was listening, too. Each new detail in Roman’s list of grievances peeled another layer off his composure.

The vomit. The heirlooms. The Rolls.

His eye twitched ever so slightly at that one.

“…She did what to your car?” he muttered, and that was nearly a growl.

A long pause followed, his fingers idly turning the glass in front of him.

“She made it seem like she was misunderstood,, in her mind perhaps she is..” James muttered finally, voice low and disgust curling at the corners. “That she just needed someone patient. Someone to believe in her.”

And maybe a week ago, he had.

He let the glass go and slowly turned back to Roman, gaze raking down his frame more openly now, less embarrassed. A slow exhale followed, more defeated than sultry.

“…I don’t think I’ve ever believed in someone who graffitied a man’s bathroom and vomited on his Persian rug.” His tone was rich with regret, but also—curiously—something else.

His eyes landed back on Roman’s mouth. That damned olive trick again in his mind.

“…But I do believe in taste. You seem to have that in spades.”

He didn’t reach across the bar, didn’t touch. But his voice dropped a note lower, that smooth vampiric purr curling between them now. He was hungry and had already made up his mind who would be his dinner tonight.

· 𓂃 ࣪˖🔪 ˖ ࣪𓂂 . When the other turns he's met with a smug half smirk. One that turns into a little pout when he's told not to flatter himself. "Oh, boo." He feigns a frown with words.

And brows eventually furrow in a put on confusion, "Sorry, what exactly have I done?" Asked rhetorically just for the other to think on that further, because really all he's done is tell him something about his little girlfriend he didn't seem to like.

There's a slight raise of brow when drink is spit out, but if he was what Roman had heard about then it made sense that alcohol wasn't really in his diet. So he'll try not to be offended.

A glance is given at bar with invite and head nods before making his way over and hopping onto a stool. Leg crosses and he swings in it idly before gesturing to tender for his usual. A martini -- that's brought to him quickly.

And it's brought to lips as he looked James over, taking a sip before picking up stick to bite off an olive a bit suggestively as he takes his time to do it. He makes sure to finish chewing though before entertaining request.

"Well," another sip as he thinks, "There was a time her and the Joker were up in my place she seemed like she was already wasted -- threw up on my Persian rug. I suppose I was distracted by that disaster enough that I didn't notice her stealing some family heirlooms. She's also trashed my bathrooms, graffitied AND crashed my rolls ... I can go on."

#v: vampire #blckfckinmsk #NorriMask #Dangerous Men

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deanpinterester · 2 years ago

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square card reader has this fun feature where you can accidentally doxx yourself to everyone who buys from you without warning

#uhhhh me #WILD that nowhere during setup does it tell you 'hey! this address you enter will be displayed on every receipt!!'#thank goodness i was testing it beforehand and noticed it #i do NOT want everyone who buys from me to know where i live thankyouverymuch #and also you can't toggle this off via the app. you have to go to their online website #which seems unnecessarily hassley #ALSO also if you toggle location off #it just turns off the map #the address itself is STILL WRITTEN ON THE BOTTOM OF THE RECEIPT #so i just. entered the address of the place i'm going to be selling at #i think they just weren't aware that a lot of people using square are people selling at cons #and don't have actual storefronts #it just would have been nice!! to have been told!! at the beginning!!#that the address we're entering!! should be our storefront address!! and not our home address!!!

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whiplashmp3 · 2 years ago

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can't believe all my roommate's friends were so actively working against me when it came to who gets the big room with the balcony attached to it and in the end she actually got it....

#we agreed to make it fair by drawing lots for it #but i ended up suggesting to use the spinning wheel generator so that it's really up to luck #and i can't believe i shot myself in my own foot with this bc she actually got the big room #even though in the beginning of the year i asked if i could have it when the other roommate moves out #(we knew for a while that she'd move out in summer)#but then my roommate asked if we could draw lots maybe and i said yes bc i didn't wanna be an asshole 😭#but now she actually got the big room and now i kinda regret not putting my foot down and claiming it #bc on my side everyone told me i could just say that i've been in the flatshare the longest and therefore i could claim the room #but idk i wanted to be nice and look where it got me #it's not the end of the world bc my current room is still nice it's just the smallest #but i'm really complaining abt nothing ig #at least i'm saving money on rent 😅#but the big room would have been saur nice tbh....#and the fact that my windows still fave the balcony and now the roommate who constantly invites friends over has the balcony .........#you see where i'm getting at 😵‍💫#let's hope i'll get some good sleep the next few week before it's too cold to be on the balcony CJSJCHS #but yeah with her friends working against me i also mean that a lot of them smoke so apparently they told her that she should get the room #bc she smokes and has friends that smoke as if i am not worthy of a balcony bc i don't smoke like 🫠#idk i felt like i was the only nice on in the scenario who was willing to play fair even though i didn't have to and her friends were still #lowkey pissing on my leg behind my back yk #she was nice about it but her friends get the side eye from me abt the whole thing 😶#sorry for the rant #delete later #000

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r4fe-cam3ron · 1 day ago

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an; uh …… shhhhh look away please. or don’t. i don’t mind. i just wanted to do something a tad bit angsty & sweet. i also cannot stop thinking about him at the moment. or joseph in general. so enjoy. w; lower case intended! also just went ham on this one — no grammar check or anything. just straight to the point.

11:35pm.

it’s late and the food on the table that you’d placed in a specific order is cold, stale more than likely. the wine is bitter going down, warm.

it was something special for johnny — something you wanted to surprise him with. a homemade dinner, with candles, and a relaxing night.

yet, he still wasn’t home like he said he would be.

scratching at your forehead, you take another sip of wine, hoping it would taste different this time. it didn’t. it makes you wince slightly at the taste as you stand from the table.

flipping on the lights, you blow out the candles before grabbing the plates, putting johnny’s back into the cabinet, but scraping any left overs into the trash from your own before placing it into the sink.

you don’t pause the cleaning you’re doing when you hear the front door open and the sound of keys dropping into the bowl next to the door.

“hey, sweetheart. how was—” his words slowly trail off when he notices the table. a new table runner and lace cloth covered the oak, nice crystal glasses sat out, the food that was now being placed into tupperware. “what’s all this?”

you shrug, snapping the lid on a bowl filled with some grilled chicken. “leftovers.” your answer is short, voice even as you turn and place it to the side before moving onto the green beans.

he frowns a bit, eyes darting back and forth between the table, counter, and you. you look pretty even if you’re wearing one of his button-ups, face bare, yet the strawberry chapstick he knows you have on glosses your lips.

stepping into the kitchen a bit more, he notices the smoke that drifts into the air from the burnt wick of the candle. the frown he already has deepens as his eyes finally dart back to you.

“what was all of this for?”

for someone so smart, he was stupid.

“well, since you told me you were going to be home early tonight — for the first time in a while — i thought i’d surprise you with something nice,” you hum softly, letting out a small laugh as you shake your head. “turns out, it would’ve been better for me to go on to bed.”

you’re not truly mad at johnny — well, only a bit — you’re mad that you haven’t spent time with him in a couple of weeks.

that’s all you wanted. time.

johnny is quick to step closer, grabbing your hands that reach for the dirty plates. “no, i’ll get that,” he shakes his head. opening your mouth, he’s quick to peck the corner of your mouth. “go lie down. i’ll clean up the rest.”

“johnny, you just—”

“what’s a little more gonna do to me, huh?” a small, playful smile pulls at the corner of his mouth. “go lie down. i’ll be there in a minute.”

glancing over at the dirty plates again, a small part of you feels guilty for allowing him to do it, even if he’s offering to put them away.

he pats your side softly, turning and grabbing the dishes himself. you watch quietly before hesitantly stepping off towards your shared bedroom. the streetlight from outside guides your way to the bed.

the sheets had been changed earlier today, a fresh, sweet smell making you inhale deeply and your eyes to slowly close.

you don’t even move under the covers, sleepiness already pulling you under the darkness, the fading car horns from outside the window, surprisingly, lulling you to sleep.

you stir when you feel the bed dip on johnny’s side, eyes slowly opening as you watch him slip you both under the covers.

his arm is gentle as it slides under your head, wrapping around your shoulder. you move closer, your arm draping lazily over his side. your fingers begin to move on their own accord, trailing over his heated side slightly.

“sorry for snapping.” your voice is soft, still laced with sleep. johnny’s eyes glance down, his hand twisting slightly, pushing at the hair that covers your face.

he smiles when he watches your tired eyes lift to look up at him. “it’s alright. don’t apologize.”

“i just miss you.”

he hums, his thumb trailing a small, soothing trail up the side of your neck. “and i miss you,” he whispers. “i’ll take tomorrow off. we’ll sleep in, then make a day to ourselves. how does that sound?”

you nod against his chest, eyes already closing as your mouth pulls into a lazy smile. “that sounds…perfect, actually.”

he snorts quietly to himself, watching as your shoulders drop slowly, sleep overtaking you again. he pulls the cover over your shoulder, pulling you closer with his free hand, slowly dragging it up and down your arm.

closing his own eyes, he lets his lips press against your forehead, the scent of your shampoo carrying him into a comforting sleep.

#𝜗𝜚 cherry’s posting #joseph quinn x fem!reader #joseph quinn x reader #johnny storm x fem!reader #johnny storm x reader #johnny storm x you

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bunnis-monsters · 3 months ago

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NSFW

a/n: a 2k word kofi reward featuring megalodon shark!hybrid smut.

You hadn’t been planning on going on a cruise, but when you won a ticket through a raffle, you didn’t want to give up your chance for some real rest and relaxation.

Work had been beyond stressful lately, and you were ready to sit by the pool and sip cocktails until you were plastered.

Unfortunately, things don’t always seem to go the way you envision them to.

The first two days were amazing, filled with great food and some fun under the sun. You felt rejuvenated, and for a while you really thought that you’d be able to go back to work as a whole new person.

But on the third night you were walking back from the bar and decided to lean over the railing, the salty wind blowing through your hair. It was nice, you were happy.

That was until you saw it.

Something shifted under the dark, choppy waves, the hint of something dark and gray beginning to emerge. At first you just assumed it was just your imagination. After all, you have been told that people start to hallucinate when they stare into the dark for too long.

But when the thing rose higher, causing the ship to rock slightly… that’s when you realized whatever it was, it was completely real.

Everything happened so fast. A voice came onto the intercom, saying something you couldn’t comprehend. You were too focused on the giant creature appearing before you, dark eyes landing on your form.

It was looking at you.

Terror shook your very being, causing you to nearly vomit in fear. Your hands gripped the railing tightly, your eyes wide and tears forming in the corners.

It was too dark to make out its form exactly, but you could see the glint of large, sharp teeth and that was enough to have your soul attempting to leave your body.

With a loud creak, it leaned against the ship, sending you flying off the side and into the dark depths below.

You woke up feeling rather… warm. Sunlight beamed down onto your skin, something cold lapping at your feet waking you.

Certainly that had been a bad dream and you were at home with your pet licking your feet to get you up and ready to make their breakfast…

But when you opened your eyes, you were reminded of reality.

The dark figure from the night before was hovering over you, the waves it created from rising out of the water lapping at your feet. The night before you hadn’t been able to make out its appearance, but now everything was horribly clear.

Before you was some sort of human and shark hybrid. Its eyes were beady, staring down at you like a predator glares at its prey. Scars covered its soft looking torso and muscular arms, his lower body resembling a shark’s tail.

But the feature that scared you the most, the one that had you crying in fear the night before was his set of razor sharp teeth, nearly the size of your arm.

You flinched when he lowered his head to sniff you, unable to even move. Was this it? You were going to be eaten by some strange, undiscovered beast before you had ever gotten the chance to truly live your life the way you wanted…

Years of working for a company you hated flashed through your mind, tears forming in your eyes. Only this time it was tears of fear, but of frustration. All that time wasted on making money to get by, but never truly making enough to live.

Preparing for the worst, you squeezed your eyes shut and turned your head. Your only hope was that it would be kind enough to kill you before tearing into your flesh…

Though, after waiting several moments, the only thing you felt was the creature’s soft breaths fanning over your body as it continued to sniff you. Its arms laid on either side of you… and it made some strange growling sound.

Soon, you opened your eyes when a wet sensation on your lower belly caused you to yelp. Oh god, it was eating you!

“N-no, don’t-“

But your cries of fear changed into a moan when he began licking further down.

No, he didn’t want to eat you… he wanted to eat you out.

His massive tongue made easy work of your clit, the very top of it pushing into your cunt and making you cum quickly.

After a while of this, he stared down at you, tilting his head before sinking back into the water. You were left feeling… confused.

While he was gone, you explored your surroundings. You were stuck on a small island, with only a few fruit trees and some birds as company.

You knew that some fruit wouldn’t keep you fed for long, but at least the shade provided some reprieve from the burning sun. If it hadn’t been for that, you would have shriveled up in the heat like a raisin.

The creature/shark guy returned as the moon began to rise over the sky. In his jaws he carried a wooden chest. He dropped it at your feet, nudging it closer to you through the sand.

“What’s this?” you asked, kneeling down to open it up. The chest held various meats and fish, enough to feed you for a while. “Oh… thank you.”

Your gratitude made him perk up, his tail wagging furiously and flinging sand everywhere. He lowered his head, nudging you gently before settling down in the water to watch you cook. It seemed he took great pride in the fact he provided a good meal for you.

As you ate your cooked meat, he slowly reached out his webbed hand, lightly rubbing at your chubby belly. You were too cute, all soft and fat, he wanted to keep you that way. It would ensure you’d produce healthy shark pups, and the very thought of your belly swollen and round during your pregnancy had his hard cock slipping out of his slit.

It was pure instinct. You were plump and well fed, meaning breeding you was the best course of action. He hadn’t found a female megalodon hybrid all mating season, and part of him wondered if he was the last of his kind.

“Soft…”

You were surprised when he spoke, his voice gravely and deep. It could almost shake the ground, and as he pulled you onto his own soft belly, you realized he was… aroused.

His cock was as thick as your arm, and nearly double the size. It would fit with some work… but just barely.

You didn’t know this though, your eyes wide with shock as he pushed the head against your cunt. “H-hey, that’s way too big! It’s not gonna-“

He paused, his black eyes glimmered. “Forgot. Need to get wet.”

He spread your legs apart, keeping them open as his thumb nudged at your clit. His hands were so big, his pinky was enough to stretch you out.

As he pumped his pinky in and out of you, slick started to pool between your legs. It felt so embarrassingly good, you struggled to keep yourself from cumming immediately.

When he considered you stretched out enough, he positioned the head of his cock at your entrance, nudging the hole before pushing in.

Nothing, not anything could have prepared you for the painful stretch as he bottomed out inside of you. Your legs were pushed as far as they could go, and you cried out in pain.

“G-gonna break me,” you babbled, watching your tummy bulge. “It’s t-too big..!”

But he seemed to lost in his own pleasure to hear you, fucking into your tight hole as you whined and squirmed. After a moment though, the pain shifted into a blinding pleasure.

Being stretched out so perfectly felt too good. He groaned into your ear, bouncing you up and down on his cock, using you like a fleshlight.

When his cum spurted into you, the thick, white ropes felt so warm it almost burned. You were filled up completely, gushing his cum even as he pulled out.

He was obsessed with how soft and squishy you were, especially after you had been filled with cum. The megalodon hybrid curled up in the shallows with you, letting you rest on his belly as he kissed your chubby cheeks.

Days turned into weeks, and after two months went by, your belly started to swell. Oh how he doted over you once it was clear you were pregnant.

“Eat, eat,” he’d coo, offering you yet another fish. “Baby needs it.”

Your tits swelled with milk after a bit, and he was fascinated by how sensitive they became. When he buried his cock inside of you at night, he’d take one of your nipples into his mouth and suckle a bit, teasing you… but not maliciously. No, he wanted to spoil and pamper his precious mate.

When you grew closer to your due date, your lover became clingy, never leaving your side for long.

You gave birth to a single, adorable shark pup… and he was excited to put another one in you as soon as possible.

About two years passed, and you had grown used to living on that little island. In the morning you collected fruit, watered your various plants that had been collected by the megalodon hybrid, then you would walk to the shoreline and wait.

“Mama!”

One of your little ones toddled out of the waves, his little legs struggling through the sand before he reached you. He hugged your legs, letting out a little purr as you ruffled his hair.

“H-hey, no fair! Mama, me too!”

Your oldest called for you from the water. He had a tail like his father, and couldn’t leave the ocean. “Shh, shh, I’m coming, baby. You know I wouldn’t leave you out.”

You waddled into the waves, being careful due to your pregnancy. Your other son joined you in the water, both cooing over your belly.

“Mama, when will the baby come?”

“Mmm… it’ll be at least a month or so.”

The younger one splashed his brother, causing them to dip under the waves and play. You laughed, spotting a dark shape coming from the deep.

Your lover emerged from the ocean, your two sons giggling and climbing up his back then jumping back into the water. He was a very patient father, letting them use him as a jungle gym as much as they wanted.

“Eat.”

He dropped another catch onto the shore, his eyes soft as he admired the extra weight you had put on over the last few years. His fingers traced your stretch marks, a smile on his lips.

“Again? I’m still full from lunch.”

But he was persistent, nudging you towards your fire pit so you’d cook. “Okay, okay, I’m going.”

Your youngest toddled around the beach, playing with shells and blowing raspberries at his older brother as he sat in your lap by the fire. The two were always bickering, but you made sure to spend equal time with them.

As the sun set, the kiddos drifted off to sleep on a nearby reef as you and your lover kissed. “Mmm… getting big.”

You yawned, cockwarming him as he toyed with your sensitive nipples. He quite enjoyed how much softer you were now, even more so than when he first met you.

It felt nice, having him guide your hips over him, feeling his cock twitch inside of you. Being stuffed full of his cum had become addicting, and you needed to be bred almost every night to be satisfied.

You were sure that you’d continue having his shark pups well into the future. After all, he took very good care of you, always bringing gifts and yummy foods to keep you from losing that softness he loved so much.

In the morning, you’d start the day over. Although sometimes you missed the life you lived before all of this, you were content being bred and kept as his sweet little mate on that peaceful island.

NSFW TAGLIST: @avalordream @icommitwarcrimes @bazpire @im-eating-rn @anglingforlevels @kinshenewa @pasteldaze @yoongiigolden @peachesdabunny @murder-hobo @leiselotte @misswonderfrojustice @dij-ology @i8kaeya @lollboogurl @h3110-dar1in9 @keikokashi @aliceattheart @mssmil3y @namjoons-t1ddies @izarosf1833 @healanette @lem-hhn @spufflepuff @honey-crypt @karljra @zyettemoon1800 @exodiam @vexillum-moeru @imperfectlyperfectprincess1 @enchantedsylveon @mysticranger575 @readeryn68 @danielle143 @kittenlover614 @filthybunny420 @annavittoria-mm @makimamybelovedwife @blubearxy @omglovelylaila @toocollectionchaos-universe-blog @fruk-you-usuk-fans @wil10wthetree @hammerhead96-blog @slightlyusedfloormat @bubblez-blop @sunshineangel-reads @heroneki-neko @soapybabyboop @anonymouskiwi

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ccsainzleclerc5516 · 4 months ago

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You’re My Baby Too

Pairing: Lando Norris x reader

Warnings: none

You'd think that the second pregnancy would be a breeze. You already know everything about how it goes, how to prepare, what to expect, but in your case, your second pregnancy was dreadful.

First trimester, horrible nausea, you spent half your time over the toilet with Lando holding your hair. Your baby boy was so much bigger than Isla it made your back hurt like crazy all the time, and the worst thing of all was that your baby boy didn't wanna come out.

You prayed you wouldn't give birth before Lando finished the season, so when the season ended you were relieved. But then your due date passed, and nothing happened. Then five days passed after your due date, nothing again. 10 days after your due date - the baby just doesn't wanna come out.

You were frustrated, exhausted, and tired of being pregnant. You just wanted to be able to see your feet again and be able to get up off the couch without Lando having to pull your hand.

"It's because you make such a good home for him he doesn't wanna come out, love." Lando tried to calm you down in a nice way, not even realizing that he irritated you with that because he's been saying that for the last 10 days and your nerves have become very thin hearing it.

"I swear, if you say that one more time.." You barked rolling your eyes at him while holding your still very pregnant belly.

"I'm sorry, I'll shut up.."

“Thank you.” You glared at him.

He didn't hold it against you for your brazen response because he understood that it had become too much for you. Lately, he's been walking on eggshells around you because everything has been annoying you, and he didn't want to be the one to contribute to that.

When the twelfth day passed since your due date, you realized that too much time had passed and you even started to worry a little that something was wrong. So Lando decided to take you to the hospital, where you very clearly told the doctor that you weren't leaving the place until you gave birth.

You thought that by some miracle, as soon as you stepped into the hospital, labor would start and you would just pop the baby out and everything would be over in less than two hours just like it was with Isla, but of course that wasn't the case with this baby.

"I think we have no other choice but to induce the labor." The doctor said.

"Okay, how long does it take?" You asked. "Is it like natural labor or?"

"Induced labor can last from a few hours to a few days, it depends. It's most often completed within 12 to 18 hours from the start of the procedure."

"Oh my God" You sighed in despair with tears in your eyes and Lando immediately squeezed your hand to offer you at least some comfort.

"Does it hurt more than a normal birth?" Lando was very concerned about how painful it would be for you. While you were giving birth to Isla, Lando was of course by your side, and even though it was much shorter and easier, he was still terribly shaken to see the pain you went through.

"I don't want to discourage you and scare you right from the start, but many women have said that induced labor is more painful."

And boy oh boy was it painful.

When they gave you the drip to induce contractions, that's when the real agony began. The drip makes contractions stronger and more frequent and you can't even begin to explain what you'd compare that pain to.

You were sweating.

Crying.

Gripping the sides of the bed and Lando's hand, which at one point you thought you were going to break.

You honestly felt like dying. What was supposed to be the most beautiful experience of your life was quickly turning into a nightmare.

Lando was heartbroken seeing you like this. He was putting cold compresses on you, hugging you, kissing you, comforting you, begging you to endure this.

"I'm so sorry baby, I wish I could go through this instead of you. I'm so sorry."

He didn't leave you for a second, except when you caught a 5-minute break from the contractions and managed to close your eyes for at least a moment and calm down. Lando said he had to go to the bathroom.

He lied actually. Instead he went to the hallway outside your room where his parents were patiently waiting. By the look on his face, Cisca and Adam could see that Lando was not well and that he himself was traumatized.

Lando didn't say anything, he just hugged Cisca and buried his face in her neck, soaking her shoulder with tears.

"I'm so fucking scared for her. It wasn't like this the first time." Lando cried quietly.

"Oh honey, y/n's going to be alright, I promise you. I know it doesn't seem like it right now, but soon this will pass and you'll be going home with your baby." Cisca comforted trying to lift his spirits. "Honey, you need to get yourself together, alright? She needs you right now and you need to be there for her."

When labor finally began after 14 long hours, you were running out of strength. You were so exhausted that you weren't sure if you would be able to push the baby out.

"Push y/n, push!" The doctor encouraged.

"I c-can't" You cried breathing rapidly. "Lando, I can't do it.."

"Come on baby, you can, I know you can. Just a little bit more and it's done, I promise. You've got this" He was pushing your hair out of your face, holding your hand, and holding your leg at the same time.

"Come on, push, push! I can see the head!"

Finally, the baby's cry was heard and soon the baby boy was on your chest. As soon as you saw him, all the pain instantly vanished.

He was so perfect. So worth it.

Lando couldn't contain his emotions as he rested his head on your shoulder, carefully observing his baby.

Later that day, when everything had calmed down, Lando was still there by your side. He couldn't be separated from you nor did he want to. His gaze shifted between you and the baby watching you both sleep peacefully.

He was tired too. He didn't really remember the last time he slept, but he knew you had it worse than him anyway, so he didn't even think of complaining.

"Lan?"

"Hey, love" His face lit up when you opened your eyes. When he saw you smile, it brought energy back to him. He took your hand and pressed a kiss to it. "Did you get some rest?"

"I did, why didn't you?" You asked him when you saw the huge dark circles under his eyes and the same clothes from the day before yesterday. "Baby, please go home, I know you're exhausted too."

"The only way I'm getting out of here is with you two."

You didn't want to argue with him because you knew it was pointless. You were just grateful that he was there and that he was yours.

"My pretty, pretty girl. I'm so proud of you." Lando said softly caressing your cheek and looking into your tired eyes. "I love you so much you know that, right?"

"I know, I can feel it. I love you too, so much." You say before kissing him. "Where are our kids?"

"This little guy is sleeping here without a care in the world."

"And Isla? She didn't come with your parents?"

"No, I told them not to bring her because I knew you'd get too emotional if you saw her, and I wanted you to rest as much as possible."

"You should've told them to bring her, I really miss her and I can't wait for her to meet her brother." You said, but you could still see the worry in Lando's eyes. "I'm fine, Lan, I promise."

"We're done with the kids. Our family is complete now."

"Lan.." You chuckled.

"No, I'm serious. I never want to see you go through so much pain again. It's been so hard to watch you like that and not be able to do anything and I'm not putting you through it again. "

"It was worth it tho. Look at him, he's so perfect. I'd do it all over again for our baby"

"I know, I know, but you're my baby too." No matter how many children you have, his protective attitude towards you will never change.

"Oh, love.." You pulled his hand to get up from the chair and come sit on the bed next to you so you can cuddle up next to him.

"I can't wait to take you home, both of you." He said quietly kissing your forehead.

You rested your head on his chest, knowing that wherever you are, as long as he's there, everything is fine.

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thyme-in-a-bubble · 5 months ago

Text

lotus

a/n: this has been sitting half-written on my pc for i don't even know how many months (tbh at least half a year. i was living somewhere else when i started it wow). finally took a deep breath and finished it (though with an ending that kinda flies by a bit because just wanted it to get done. i was scared that the story would never see the light of day, so zooming through the ending was a better option)

summary: a nervous breath then escaped his lungs before he uttered, “you do know what kind of massage this is, right?” to which you only blinked back at him all the same, none of your shock evaporation at his words, “you know that I’m here to give you more than just a regular massage?”

warnings: massage therapist!bucky barnes x reader, smut, sex worker!bucky, bucky doesn't have the metal arm in this one, thinking that your friend just signed you up for a normal massage but then it turns out to be an erotic one, kissing, dirty talk, manhandling, fingering, toys, multiple orgasms, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, anal, double penetration

word count: 4000

∼ gentle reminder that feedback, but especially reblogs are the way you support writers on here ∽

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With a hand tangled up in one of the ties of the robe you wore, you answered your front door after finally hearing the bells chime.

“Hi,” a soft smile swiftly warmed up the features of the man standing on the other side of the threshold, “are you miss Y/l/n?”

“Yeah, I am,” a tingle of nerves flickered through your body as your gaze washed over him, “you must be the masseuse.”

Why did he have to be so attractive? If it was this difficult to remember to breathe when he was standing completely out of your reach, then how were you going to survive a guy such as him touching you?

Following your gaze down to the folded-up table he carried, he nodded, “guilty,” before setting down the duffle bag he clutched in his other hand and extended it for you to grasp, “my name is Bucky.”

“Bucky,” you briefly shook it, “nice to meet you.”

“You too,” the touch faded, and he bent down to pick the supplies back up, “so, where should I set up?”

“Oh, in here, in the living room,” you gestured behind you and shifted to the side for him to enter. As he set up everything, you stayed at the perimeter and felt your heartbeat thump behind your ribcage, “is it weird that I’m a bit nervous?” you then quietly asked.

Briefly pausing his actions as he unfurled the massage table, he cast a glance your way.

“It’s not weird at all, it’s okay,” he stated in a calm tone, “but I assure you, this is a completely safe space, you’re in good hands.”

“I just–, this wasn’t exactly my idea, or even at all,” your hands fiddle further with the terrycloth tie around your waist as you began to ramble, “Nat, my friend, she told me that I needed to relax, so she booked this appointment for me as a treat. I don’t even know what it is she signed me up for, if it was just like a little five-minute long thing or what.”

“Oh no, she signed you up for the full package, 90 minutes.”

“Really?” your eyebrows rose, “wow, that’s amazing.”

Once the table was set up and he rummaged through the bag for a towel as well as other supplies, his low timbre filled the room once more.

“So, before we start, I’d just like to ask if there’s anything off limits to you, anything you don’t like or that you’re not interested in? Or perhaps something in particular you’d like today?”

“Uh, I don’t think so,” your eyes narrowed slightly as you thought, quickly scanning through your body to get a good sense, “you can just be as rough with me as you want.”

“Alright, you like it rough, good to know,” you felt yourself suck in a silent breath at the way the phrase fell from his lips, “you ready to begin?”

“Yep,” you swallowed, hoping he didn’t notice how flustered he seemed to make you.

He then lifted up the ivory sheets he’d sprawled out on the plush bench and held it up high, giving you a smidge of privacy as you dropped your robe to a nearby armchair, before laying down on the table and feeling the cotton drape over you.

As you layed there on your stomach with your face comfortably nestled in the little nook, you sensed Bucky adjust the fabric, folding it down so that your entire back was exposed.

A dull click found your ears as he pumped some oil into his palm. The very first touch conjured a brisk breath to fill your lungs as his hands slid along your spine, spreading the slickness around.

Though when you finally managed to force yourself to relax into his touch, a soft moan slipped from your lips as his meticulous grip found a muscle particularly sore.

“Sorry,” you timidly apologized for the sound.

But he simply zeroed in on the very spot that had made you groan and said, “don’t apologize, whatever bubbles up, please let it out.”

Your lips stayed half parted as his touch dug deeper, “it just feels really good right there...”

“Yeah, you seem to be holding a lot of tension in your back, especially right here between your shoulder blades.”

“Probably all the time on the couch,” you let out a pitiful chuckle, “I just kept on getting into uncomfortable positions and then stayed like that. Which, funnily enough, is pretty symbolic of how I ended up there in the first place, stuffing my face with Ben and Jerry’s and binging the most depressing of romcoms.”

“Bad breakup?” he guessed.

“I don’t think you can call it a break-up if you never really were together in the first place,” you let out a sigh. Yet again had you fallen for a guy who’d turned out to be a complete and utter asshole, “men are just pigs,” you spat out, “no offence.”

“Oh, none taken,” he uttered, “you know, it’s actually very common for people to get this particular treatment after something like that.”

“Really? Your touch is on the same level as bawling your eyes out to Joni Mitchell?” you jested, “well, now I’m really happy that I let my friend talk me into this.”

Soon, when his touch had kneaded every inch of your back, it faded away and reappeared lower on your frame as you then felt him fold the sheet up to expose your legs, letting the thin fabric only drape across and cover the curve of your bottom.

Once his touch had soothingly wandered up the length of your legs and as his broad palms dented your slightly parted thighs, you nearly didn’t notice through the trance-like state you’d drifted off to when his reach crept close enough to your core to feel the heat radiating off it. A gasp parted your lips as his fingers briefly ghosted against the very outside of your puff before retreating back down your thigh.

“Is it alright if remove this for a bit?” he then asked as you felt his hand clutch the sliver of modesty that remained.

“Oh, uhm,” you fought to comprehend his question through the haze you’d slipped into, both the haze of relaxation, though maybe more predominately the haze of sin, which was most likely what had swayed you to utter, “sure,” trying your best to stay calm as he removed the sheet completely.

It became a difficult task to keep your quiet noises at bay and have them not seep through your heavy breath as he then began to massage the soft peak of your butt.

You tried to remind yourself that it was the biggest muscle on the human body and thereby completely normal to be treated in this manner, but that truth would have been easier to swallow if it had been a less attractive specimen touching you in such a way.

Eventually, Bucky’s lavish rubs came to spread you apart with each repetitive motion, surely granting himself a perfect view of just how mortifyingly wet you’d become.

As he let his broad thumbs dig into your sitting points, you told yourself it was the slipperiness of the oil that caused his fingers to sweep closer to your core and not your own nectar that had leaked down towards his touch.

It felt so good that your hips unconsciously tilted up and into his touch, as his thumbs slid close enough to caress your outer lips, nearly capturing them in a gentle pinch.

You didn’t know how long it took, how long you essentially grinded into him as if you were in heat, but eventually, you snapped out of your fog and realized just where his fingers were.

“U-uh… w-what are you doing?” your frame jumped slightly at the realization.

“Do you not like this?” his touch paused, though didn’t retreat.

“Why–, uhm…” you nearly panted, “you’re just very close to somewhere else.”

And when he simply uttered, “yeah, I know,” in an almost amused and cocky tone. You swiftly propped yourself up onto your arms and glared back at him, successfully prompting him to rip his hands away.

Snatching the sheet back over your frame as you scrambled to a seat, you stared back at him in utter shock, “I’m sorry, but are you actually trying to sleep with me right now?”

His brows furrowed slightly as he blinked back at you, seemingly confused at your outburst, “I’m just doing my job.”

“I’ve had massages before, that was not–… that right there was something else. That was not you doing your job, that was your hands being persuaded by your dick.”

A nervous breath then escaped his lungs before he uttered, “you do know what kind of massage this is, right?” to which you only blinked back at him all the same, none of your shock evaporation at his words, “you know that I’m here to give you more than just a regular massage?”

“What do you mean?”

“Oh boy, I’m sorry, I thought you knew…” his glance fell to the floor as he then began to enlighten, “well, the lotus wellness center, where I work, specializes in the blend of not just physical and mental health, but also sexual health and satisfaction. An erotic massage, like the one you were signed up for, is one of the many services we offer.”

Your eyes had grown as wide as saucers during his explanation, “o-oh…”

“I totally understand if you wanna stop, if you’re not interested.”

“I–…” you tried to make heads or tails of the situation you found yourself in, “so you were gonna–, what? Fuck me?”

“I was gonna try and make you feel good, help you relax and unwind. You were signed up for the aurelia treatment which would involve me using my hands to pleasure you, as well as whatever toys you might be interested in.”

“Toys?”

“Yes, I have a generous collection with me,” he briefly gestured back to the duffle bag resting on the couch.

“Okay, uhm…” one of your palms came down to brush over your features as you fought to comprehend it all.

“Do you want me to pack up and go?” you heard him ask.

Slowly, ever so slowly, before you even realized it was moving, you shook your head. Letting your gaze flutter back up to find his, you exhaled lowly, “fuck…”

“I can also just give you a completely traditional massage if that’s what you want.”

“…and if I wanna try the other thing?” you nearly whispered.

“Do you?”

“I–…” you tried to speak, though couldn’t find the words and ended up just hazily nodding back at him.

“Alright,” he gently mirrored the nod that still faintly rocked your head, “I won’t do anything you’re not comfortable with, I promise. You just say the word, okay?”

“Okay,” you breathed, shivering slightly at the tingle of goosebumps that spread across your flesh.

The way he held your gaze a moment longer before shifting it to the massage table you still sat upon made you feel as if you might melt off it entirely.

“Lay back down,” he faintly nodded to the bench.

Your eyes stayed glued on him long after you now layed sprawled out on your back.

Letting his touch graze the sheet you still absentmindedly clutched to your chest, he asked, “do you wanna keep this on?”

“No,” you shook your head faintly, “you can remove it.”

“Okay,” he gently peeled the fabric off of you, “just say if you get cold, alright?”

“Mhm,” you hummed, still having a hard time wrapping your head around the fantasy you found yourself in.

He began by working at your arms, tenderly spreading some oil across them and massaging down the length of them, one at a time, till his skilful fingers descended to work at your palms. It nearly felt as if he was merely holding your hand before he tossed you into the deep end with how intimate the simple beginning sensed.

You couldn’t command your gaze to leave his visage as you traced his every move as if he was made of stardust.

When his warmth let go of your hand, he reached for the bottle of oil that didn’t have a pump and unscrewed the top. Your bottom lip got caught by your teeth as he then poured a bit out over your stomach, curving the s-waves of droplets all the way up and across your boobs, dripping over your pebbly nipples as they stared back at him.

As Bucky began to rub it in, he first stared softly down at your belly before swooping up, only to skip over your tits entirely and instead yanking a disappointed whimper from your lungs as he then commenced massaging your shoulders.

You felt a bit lightheaded as you blinked up at him, all tall and broad, looming above your head and digging his warm touch into the base of your neck.

Though when his rough palms finally did swoop down to caress your soft peaks, he quietly checked in, “this okay?” to which you simply nodded your head, eyebrows knitting together at the intenseness of the built-up anticipation.

Your entire chest cage heaved beneath his touch as he finally massaged your boobs, even occasionally fleeting away to ghost across your nipples, only to capture them in a pinch the next moment.

You felt as if you were floating down a calm stream, letting the river of sin take you somewhere new and wonderful.

Eventually, his broad palms swept up and down your form, though each time his reach dared to near your core, he barely touched you at all, missing entirely the spots that throbbed for attention, which of course only caused the sensation to deepen and render you even more desperate from his teasing.

When he then shifted to stand to the side of the patted table, his deep voice washed over you once more as his touch stayed warm against your skin.

“Everything okay so far?”

“Yeah…” you hummed as you lazily blinked up at him, and the soft smile that curved your lips caused a similar one to bloom upon his own.

His slow stride then carried him further down till his fingers began to dent the softness of your thighs.

After he’d made your eyes flutter at the way he worked at the muscles in your legs, focusing on one thigh at a time, slowing working his way up till his fingertips stretched to dizzily brush against your outermost petals, it was then, that his sweeps grew and blossomed till one fleeting tease to your centre morphed into more as he kept coming back, each fluttering time slowly transforming till the maddening pets had become everything you’d dreamed of.

Soft whimpers flowed out of your lungs as he gently folded each of your legs up by your sides and cracked you wide open for him.

As he gazed down at you with such intensity you’d never experienced before, it only took one step for him to change his angle and stand tall next to your hips.

Letting his palms run up your inner thighs, the edges of each of his broad thumbs then met and joined on either side of your pussy as he captured it in a light pinch, making you moan softly, “fuck….” as his touch rolled your clit through your glistening puff.

You nearly didn’t catch it because of how hard your own pants were, but Bucky’s own breaths had picked up as well and with a few stray curses seeping through his teeth as he continued to pluck at the strings of your pleasure.

But then, before you could truly lose yourself to the ecstasy you felt flicking in your periphery, his hands slipped away, a smirk fast on his lips as a whine escaped you and he returned his attention to the rest of your body. Though thankfully, his torture only carried on a short moment before he finally granted you the first of many treats.

“Oh, yeah,” you couldn’t help but moan as he rubbed your clit and carried you over the peak.

“Right there?” he leaned down closer to you as he kept up his pace, his free hand coming to rest right beside your head as he loomed over you.

“Yeah,” you breathlessly panted as your body trembled beneath his touch.

“Yeah?” he huskily echoed, nearly sharing your breath as he drew out your orgasm for as long as he could, and even as your body began to squirm at the sensitivity that swiftly set in, his touch never left you, only lightened to make it bearable and tickle you back from the high.

He studied your features fiercely as his fingers then came down to tease your entrance.

“How about this?” your leaky hole swallowed up the two digits he swiftly filled it with, “how’s that? Is that what you want?”

“Oh fuck!” your back briefly arched and lifted you off the table, closer to him for but a moment as sloppy sounds of your want echoed at the slow rhythm he played you at.

“Or do you need a little more maybe?” he sneaked another finger inside, “huh?” his frame then bent down till you could feel his hot breath fan across your face, “what do you want? You want something more to make you feel good right here?” his fingers slid back out of your pussy and fluttered up till they found your puffy pearl, “or here?” he briefly soared back down to plug up your cunt once more, but only offered you one messily rock before his digits slipped back out and drifted down much further than you expected, “or maybe even here?” you let out a gasp as the slick pads of his fingers glided over your little rosebud.

“I–, I–,” you struggled to answer him, feeling so foggy that you might just fall off the table, “fuck…”

“I have any toy you could dream of with me,” he purred as your grip found his shirt for support, “so, what do you want?”

“I want–, I want–”

“What?” he pushed as he continued to stare down into your eyes.

And as blinked back at him, only one wish came to mind, one that you timidly whispered, “y-you…”

But as fear began to prickle at your nerves, they all dissipated as the masseuse wasn’t offended at all, your words somehow conjuring a dazzled smile to appear upon his lip before he then chuckled warmly, “roll over for me.”

You nearly gave yourself whiplash from the hast you tried to fulfil his command.

As he soon kneeled down to be on level with where your head was now twisted and resting on its side, his hand drifted up for you to spot the dildo clutched in his grasp.

Handing it off to your flicking fingers, his touch briefly lingered on your cheek, stroking it softly as he said, “then pretend this is me, will you? Get it nice and sloppy for me.”

When you began to plant pecks across the silicon, your eyes shadowed him as far as they could as he straightened back up and walked back far enough to disappear from your sight, only for you to know where he’d gone to once you felt his mouth begin to devour you whole.

It became difficult to concentrate on the task he’d given you, so much so that he had to remind you each time his lavish tongue buried between your legs caused your own to forget itself.

Arching your ass further up towards his efforts, he tilted away from your drooling cunt and instead nipped up till he lapped against your other hole.

“Oh, that feels really good,” you moaned around the dildo as you tried to catch a glimpse of him, though only saw the edge of one of his hands and they dented your bottom.

“Yeah?” he let a dollop of spit drop to your rosebud before he nudged the pad of a thumb against it, “you like having this little hole played with?”

“Uh-huh,” you nodded, then watched as he momentarily dipped away to snatch up a butt plug from the zipped-open treasure trove his bag was.

Once the toy was snugly buried within your little ass, he snatched the dildo out of your mouth and a string of your drool chased the silicone as he brought it back to tap against the sloppy petals of your pussy.

It didn’t take very long after he’d begun to fuck you with the toy that you tumbled over the edge once more, making you that much more malleable when he yanked at your legs and manhandled you down to the bottom of the bench till your unsteady feet were once again on the floor and he had you bent over the table like a needy whore.

That was also when your weak pleas began to bubble out, begging for him to fill you up with something other than a toy.

Even though you couldn’t see his face, you swore you heard a tinge of astonishment in his tone when he asked you to clarify, making sure it really was him that had you begging and not just the way he made you feel.

Though once you finally managed to convey the sincerity of your words and convince him of the way he and not just the acts he was performing, drove you wild, it was in the middle of chasing your next high that he broke his pattern and traded out the dildo with his own hard cock.

A low moan seeped across your spine as he buried his length completely and let himself melt down against your back. Letting himself savour the sweetness of your warmth clenching around his fat girth, it took him a while before he finally began to move and soon found a steady pace that had your toes curling against the floorboards.

His fingers gently dug into the soreness still remaining all down your back as his hips repeatedly collided with the plush of your ass in desperate thrusts. Though as his digits worked their way down the length of your spine, they eventually found the little plug that still remained in your ass.

Teasingly twisting the toy, you thought that was everything he had planned, though all of those fantasies fluttered away when he suddenly yanked the small plug out and switched it with the bigger toy still firm in his grasp, your little hole only managing to wink up at him before he stuffed it full once more.

You lost track of the amount of times he made you cum as the remainder of the intense dance became a bit of a blur. At one point he had you flipped around and lying on your back, gasping up at him as he folded you in half and nearly broke the massage table beneath you from how hard his deep strokes were. At the next, the dildo he drove you mad with was traded out with his own fat cock and he conjured a vibrating wand to hold against your puffy clit as he watched your pussy leak from the bliss. But at the end, once you were nothing more than a puddle on the table, his load painted against your tits as he let his frame drape down atop of yours, a hazy question left your lips.

“Is that usually how that goes?” you asked as you both panted, plastered against one another.

Raising himself up only enough for his eye to catch your own, he uttered sincerely, “no…” and his gaze flickered down towards your lips, “no, it is not…” before he let himself give you the thing you hadn’t dared to request. The kiss was so sweet it nearly caused you to forget the sinful acts you’d just wrapped up.

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humanjarvis · 12 days ago

Text

wasting your honor

synopsis: at akso hospital’s charity gala, you realize how smart zayne is. how much smarter he is than you.

tags: fluff to angst to fluff/comfort, reader is insecure about their intelligence, reader thinks zayne deserves better, references to socioeconomic differences, potentially inaccurate references to medical terminology and protocore stuff, misunderstanding, reader ghosts zayne for a week, he comes to find her, reader tears up, love confessions, happy ending pairing: zayne x fem!reader (referred to as “she” one time), reader doesn't have to be mc word count: 2.4k

a/n: i’m rly rly proud of this it may be my favorite thing i’ve written so far please read it

“Are you sure I should be going to this?” you ask, the hesitation clear in your voice.

“Why shouldn’t you? Plenty of other attendees will be bringing their partners as plus-ones,” Zayne says matter-of-factly. “Of course, if you’re feeling unwell, it’s best to stay behind and rest. I'm sure I'll be able to manage on my own.”

“No, no, I feel fine,” you reply, chewing your bottom lip nervously. “It’s just…I've never been surrounded by so many highly educated people. I’m afraid I'll slip up, or say something wrong, or embarrass you, or…”

Before you can ramble on, he walks up to you and squishes your cheeks between his large scarred hands. “Darling,” he begins, a soft smile on his face, “none of that matters. Just be yourself, and I’m sure you’ll be the most refined person there by a mile.”

Akso Hospital’s annual charity gala was the topic of his impromptu pep talk. Each year, the event made front-page news from drawing in hundreds of world-renowned physicians to support a pressing medical cause. Tonight’s gala would be hosted by a team of legendary neurologists, and the venue—a prestigious museum of anthropology—was equally celebrated.

Zayne, who usually struggled at such events, had invited you as his plus-one with youthful hope in his hazel eyes, and there was no way you could have rejected his offer. At first, you’d been thrilled at the prospect of making an official outing together—you rarely got the chance due to his busy schedule—but as the days passed by, the anxiety of being average in a room of geniuses had caught up to you.

So as you pace back and forth before the full-length mirror, fidgeting with your dress at every turn, you can only hope that he’s right.

As Zayne puts the car in park, your stomach lurches with dread.

In the few seconds you have to panic to yourself while he walks around to open your door, the way your mind formulates last-minute escape plans would put a supercomputer to shame. Maybe you could fake sick—no, you’d told him you felt fine—or maybe with enough pressure you could lightly sprain your ankle in your hee—

The door swings open.

Fuck.

He takes your hand and guides you out of the car, and as you walk toward the museum entrance, you’re too focused on trying not to trip over your flowing gown to take in the scenery. The lights twinkling in the foggy night, the verdant plants lining the entryway in carefully arranged rows, the opulent fountain flowing over small hills of bronze coins. It’s a lovely setup, really. If only your brain would allow you to enjoy it.

After passing through the lavish front hall, decorated with colorful displays of ancient artifacts, you’re greeted by a grand ballroom layout. Round banquet tables with crystal centerpieces are scattered throughout the space, and the upscale alcohol behind the bar could probably bankrupt you with one sip.

All around you, people clad in gold watches and diamond necklaces mingle with thinly veiled scrutiny, and you silently bless Zayne for personally sponsoring your event attire.

As you head further into the room, a striking brunette woman in her 40s saunters up to you. “Zayne!” she gushes, “It’s so nice to see you could make it! With how antisocial you are, I was afraid you’d find a reason not to come. Oh, and who’s this?” she asks, eyes passing over you dismissively. “I’ve never seen you working with Zayne before—perhaps you’re in nephrology or gastroenterology?”

You have no idea what either of those words mean.

Luckily, like always, Zayne saves the day. “Actually, this is my partner. She’s accompanying me tonight.”

“Partner,” the woman repeats, her voice raising an octave in disbelief. “…What a surprise! I didn’t realize the aloof Dr. Zayne was seeing someone. How lucky you are to have him,” she finishes with a stiff smile. “Well, I’ll leave you two to it, then. Enjoy your evening!” she calls as she flags down a waiter and scoops up two glasses of wine.

“That was our chief of staff,” Zayne says flatly. “Surely you can understand how she scored the position with such a charming personality.”

You chat with—or Zayne chats with, while you stand off awkwardly to the side—a few more guests before the main portion of the event begins.

Dr. Greyson had roped him into a conversation about a thrilling surgery from the day before, and an intern who’d somehow managed to get on the invite list had bombarded him with questions while you watched with a blank smile.

When the lights gradually dim and you’re directed to your seats, you let out a sigh of relief. Finally, a moment to breathe, you think.

The hours pass. Speech after speech travels in and out of your ear, the jargon too advanced for you to process before the next utterly alien word comes along.

Flipping open your program in restlessness, you realize you’ve reached the final segment of the gala just as the next speaker takes the stage.

“Again, thank you all so much for your attendance tonight,” he starts. “I’m proud to announce that we’ve raised a record-breaking amount for medical research involving Protocores—what a historic feat. Each of you should be immensely proud of your contributions.”

Your claps seem too loud in the polite applause. Shifting your gaze to the guests around you, you match their enthusiasm—or lack thereof—with an inward grimace.

“Now, before the night ends, we do have one more achievement to celebrate. Dr. Zayne Li, who I believe is here with us tonight, has recently passed an extraordinary milestone—in his time with Akso, our chief cardiac surgeon has successfully completed over 800 surgeries. To show our gratitude, we’d like to present him with the Medical Impact Award. Dr. Li, if you’re in the audience, won’t you come up and celebrate this accomplishment?”

This time, you don’t hold back your applause. As Zayne rises from his seat, an endearing look of bewilderment on his face, your heart swells with admiration. Lucky, was what that woman had called you earlier. You suppose she’d been right.

As Zayne climbs up the steps, the presenter hands him a polished wooden plaque. Saying a brief thanks, he struts to the mic, a practiced look of confidence on his face now that the surprise has worn off.

“Thank you for this honor,” he begins steadily. “It’s with immense privilege that I can stand here before you today, but I’d like to take this time to commend our fundraising efforts tonight. The millions of dollars we’ve raised will be dedicated to investigating the nature of pathological conditions that originate in Protocore exposure. This will allow hundreds of medical personnel in and outside of Linkon to treat previously unsolvable cases. In regards to my own work, I’m particularly grateful—with the generosity you’ve all shown tonight, you’ve made me incredibly optimistic for the future of treating Cardiac Protocore Syndrome. I’ll keep that in mind every day—so the next 800 surgeries can go smoothly and with quick recoveries.”

As his speech ends, your look of admiration melts into a resigned, defeated smile.

For the first time that night, the room breaks out into thunderous applause. And for the hundredth time that night, you feel like you don’t deserve to stand by his side.

You’d hope that he’d chalked up your silence on the ride home to sleepiness. When he’d walked you to your apartment door and leaned in to kiss you goodnight, you’d merely stood there in indecision, afraid to taint his brilliance with your mediocrity. And then, with a strained smile, you’d shut the door in his face.

That was the last time you’d seen him for the rest of the week. And for half of the next.

For six days, you’d been completely ghosting him, too wrapped up in your insecurities to respond to his numerous messages.

Thank you for accompanying me last night. I had a wonderful time, he’d texted on the first day.

One of the nurses came up to me and gushed over your dress. She asked where you bought it from, but I told her we got it custom-ordered, he’d said on the second.

The fourth day. Would you like to join me for a meal later? We’ve had to reschedule a surgery. I’ll be getting home earlier than usual tonight.

Last night. Please respond to me when you get a chance.

And no matter how badly you wanted to, each time your fingers hovered over the keyboard, they froze in paralyzing shame.

You’d passed the time like you had before you met him—hiding from the sun, rewatching comfort movies, and wallowing in bed with gloomy ballads in the background.

But on the seventh day, your doorbell rings.

Thinking it’s the package of pastries you’d ordered from the bakery near Zayne’s house—you always got a box when you were sad—you hastily swing open the door.

And then fight the urge to shut it right back.

Because standing on your doorstep is a tired-looking Zayne, frowning in hurt and confusion.

“Hello. Is your phone broken?” he asks worriedly, checking your body for signs of illness.

“Um…no,” you mutter, suddenly fixated on your navy blue slippers. “Why don’t you come in? If you want to.”

With an infinitesimal squint, he crosses the threshold of your apartment. All things considered, it’s a good thing he’s here, given the way your heart is beating out of your chest.

“You haven’t been responding to my calls or messages since the gala,” he begins carefully. “I was afraid something was wrong. There were so many people present—maybe you’d caught a virus. But,” he continues, taking in your disheveled yet healthy appearance, “it seems I was incorrect.”

The guilt that’s been eating at you for days suddenly devours your insides whole, and your emotional dam bursts open.

“I-I’m glad you got to go, and that you got your award—your speech was great, by the way,” you sniffle. “But while we were there, the whole time I was thinking how much more successful you are than me. How much more intelligent. I mean, that lady asked me if I was an entomologist, or whatever, and I didn’t even know what she meant! At the end of it I just…thought you’d be better off without me. That you deserve better. Smarter. That’s why I’ve been quiet the last few days,” you finish, eyes downcast.

His puzzled frown deepens at your revelation.

“Why would I expect you to possess medical knowledge when that’s not your field of study?”

Oh.

You really were stupid, weren’t you.

“You…don’t think I’m too…average for you?”

“No, have I ever indicated that I do? If so, I apologize for making you feel that way. It’s the complete opposite of how I view you,” he reveals, stepping closer. “I’m also terribly sorry I didn’t notice you were so uncomfortab—”

“No,” you interrupt him shakily. “I tried to hide it. I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

Zayne gives you a sympathetic grin before starting over. “Regardless, I regret not being able to take care of you like I should have. And as much as I wish you hadn’t, I understand why you took the time to process your feelings. But to make one thing clear,” he asserts, voice deepening in emphasis. “I’m the one who’s lucky to have you.”

As you look up at him through glassy eyes, your breath hitches. “What?” you croak, voice hoarse from built-up tears.

“Darling,” he begins gently. “Did you ever consider whether I like socializing with those types of people?”

Mouth parting in a small ‘o,’ you shake your head meekly.

He smiles wryly. “After every previous one of those events, I’ve gone home with an ear-splitting headache. Last week was the first time I’ve ever enjoyed going,” he chuckles. “Not because of that award—which was flattering but unnecessary considering I was only doing my job,” he quips, “but because you were there beside me.”

“No amount of medical knowledge can compare to the peace you make me feel. The comfort. I asked you to be my plus-one for one reason only: the person I love makes me happy.”

At the confession, your battered heart soars and your cheeks burn so hot you think they’ll melt off. Timidly, you inch closer to him, instinctually unsure if he’ll welcome you back into his arms.

He answers your unvoiced question almost immediately, pulling you to him by the waist before he speaks again. “Although,” he pauses, giving you a concerned once-over, “if you were truly in so much distress over attending, you could have just refused. At the expense of my own happiness, I would’ve preferred you had.”

“But you seemed so excited to go,” you groan, laying your head against his chest. You shiver at the contact—you must’ve missed him more than you realized. “I guess I was wrong.”

“Not entirely. I was excited to go with you.”

At his response, you bury yourself impossibly further into him, and he strokes your back tenderly. “Well, that was one reason I agreed—you looked so cute when you asked, I just couldn’t say no,” you grumble, lightly pinching his waist. “But the other part was…with all the hours you spend at the hospital—800 surgeries and all—we never really get to go to big events as a couple. I just wanted to take the opportunity, I guess. I thought it would feel nice.”

Zayne sighs deeply and presses a light kiss to your hair. “And it felt bad instead,” he surmises. “How can I make it up to you? I’ll ask Greyson to trade shifts with me if I need to, just say the word.”

“Well,” you start, peering up at him shyly. “There is an office party next week that I’ve been dreading going to. All alone,” you pout. “If he comes with me, the illustrious Dr. Zayne will get to see how we regular people socialize.”

Chuckling softly, he kisses your forehead. “He wouldn’t dare miss out on that. He’ll be there,” he promises, squeezing your hip in confirmation. “Now, if I’m not mistaken, I believe the bakery van just dropped something off at your door. Shall we open it?”

In an instant, you peel yourself off of him and sprint for the door before freezing in your tracks. You were forgetting something.

“Wait!” you exclaim, turning back around to face him. With a nervous gulp, you say the words you think you’ve known for a long time.

“I asked you to come with me, Zayne,” you breathe, “because the person I love makes me happy, too.”

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navybrat817 · 27 days ago

Text

Chokehold

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Summary: You have a crush on Bucky and start to bond with him over coffee in the break room, but there's no way he could possibly feel the same way about you... right?

Word Count: Over 11k (yep!)

Warnings: Explicit sexual content, unprotected v. sex (wrap it before you tap it!), dirty talk, fluff, longing, minor angst, insecurities, feels, sparring, swearing, confessions, getting together, Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?)

A/N: I've been sitting on this one (thanks for listening to my back and forth on this @targaryenvampireslayer), and I hope you all enjoy. ❤️ Beta read by the lovely @mumbles411, but any and all mistakes are my own. Dividers by the talented @enchanthings-a. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

You fell for Bucky Barnes the moment you met. Something dangerous lurked in his steel blue eyes when you introduced yourself to him, but beneath the surface was pain and loneliness that you wanted to take away. Of course, that could've been you projecting and wanting to justify having a crush on a guy who hadn't spoken a word to you.

“Bucky,” was all he said to you, entrancing you with the deep baritone of his voice.

You wished you could say it was the beginning of a beautiful friendship, but you could count on one hand the number of times he spoke to you in the months that followed. You tried not to take it personally. Maybe he wasn't interested in making new friends since he seemed to stay close to Steve, Sam, and their small group. Or maybe he just didn't see a reason to trust you. Trust likely wasn't easy for him and what reason did he have to open up to you?

“Hi!” you exclaimed when Bucky walked into the break room, your echoing voice making you wince. “Sorry. I didn't mean to greet you at that decibel.”

“It’s okay,” he said, your eyes on him as he strode to the coffee machine with ease.

Bucky wasn't your friend, but it didn't stop you from greeting him whenever you saw him throughout the building, a warm feeling spreading in your chest every time he acknowledged you with a slight head nod or grunt. That had to mean something since he didn't outright ignore you. Not being his friend also didn't keep you from learning little things about him, like how he took his coffee.

Which you decided to surprise him with today.

“Wait! I made you some coffee,” you told him, going to get the mug you had ready for him. “I hope you like it.”

You had a reputation around S.H.I.E.L.D. for being kind to others ever since you joined. You didn't mind that being your signature since you liked putting a bit of kindness out into the world. Besides the tough work you did, your coworkers and teammates fought other battles every day that you knew nothing about. So why not try to lift others up? It costs you nothing.

Being nice, however, had a downside or two. Some thought that kindness was insincere or a weakness. It also didn't get you a lot of dates. Or maybe you didn't pay attention to other guys since you had eyes for one man.

You couldn't get a read on him as you carefully handed it to him. “You made me coffee?” he asked in disbelief, a soft look in his eyes before he blinked it away.

“Yep! With cream and sugar.”

Your smile faltered when he raised an eyebrow and glanced suspiciously at the liquid, like he was trying to assess if something was off with it as you wrung your fingers together. “This is really for me?” he asked.

You couldn't detect any anger or annoyance in his tone, but you wouldn't say he sounded happy either. Which only made your smile fall more. “Yeah. I just, I thought you liked it that way and maybe it would help you kickstart the morning, but I shouldn't have assumed. I'm sorry. And you don't have to drink it. I can just dump it out,” you rambled.

He held the mug a bit closer when you tried to take it away, the steam rising from it as his eyes met yours. It was almost as if the heat melted the ice from his stare. “Not gonna let you dump this out after you went to the trouble of making it for me,” he said, gently blowing on it before he took a sip. You reminded yourself not to whimper when he licked a drop away from his lip, wondering just what else he could do with that tongue. “Especially since you know how I like it.”

You avoided his gaze, hoping he didn't question why you knew since there was a chance you’d blurt out that you like him and that was the last thing you needed. You owed him some sort of explanation though, right? “Well, we’re both here some mornings and I saw you make it that way,” you said, your brain overanalyzing how that sounded. “Not that I'm watching you or anything like that. I… I’m not a creep.”

Bucky stared with unreadable eyes as you sighed and shook your head. Leave it to you to fumble over your words with your crush. Was that why they called it a crush? Because it crushed your hopes and dreams?

In a small voice, you said, “I was just trying to be nice.”

“It’s a very nice gesture, so thanks,” he said, taking another sip. “I appreciate it.”

Doing your best not to preen like a peacock at the renewed sliver of hope, you released the breath you were holding and nodded. At least he didn't question why you cared enough to remember how he took his coffee. “You’re welcome,” you said, wishing you could hang around and chat more, but you had work to do and didn't want to smother him. “I hope you have a good day.”

“You, too,” he said, his eyes on you as you headed toward the door. ��Maybe I’ll see you here at the same time tomorrow?”

You came to a stop, your heart thudding as you faced him. “You… want me to make you coffee tomorrow?”

He chuckled before he took another sip. “I meant maybe we would just bump into each other, but I won’t turn down another coffee if you’re offering.”

Of course that was what he meant. “Oh. Right. Yeah. Maybe,” you said, backing up and hitting your elbow against the doorframe.

His brows furrowed as you gave him a strained smile. “You okay?” he asked, your cheeks hot as you rubbed your elbow.

“I’m fine! Enjoy your coffee,” you said, wishing the ground would swallow you up as you bolted from the room.

You were a competent agent. A strong woman on top of your kindness. Why did you have to act like an idiot in front of him? There was no chance you’d see him in the break room after that. It was a shame, too. It was the most he had ever spoken to you.

A higher being either took pity on you or wanted to play a trick on you since you did see Bucky the next day. Not only that, no one else was in the break room. Granted, most people used the main break room since this room was much smaller and on a floor most didn't go to. But how was it possible that you were so lucky?

“Morning, Bucky.”

“Morning.” He hesitated before he took a seat at the same table as you. If you were dreaming, you didn’t want anyone to wake you up. “Sorry. I should've asked…”

“It’s fine,” you smiled. “You're welcome to sit with me.”

“Thanks.” His cheek twitched and you wondered if it was a nervous tick or something leftover from the hell he endured. “You know, that coffee yesterday was probably the best I’ve ever had from this place.”

You perked up more. “Really? Wow, thanks. It was nothing,” you smiled, your pulse quickening. Not only was Bucky talking to you again, but he complimented you. It was slightly pathetic how much you enjoyed that. “You did say you wouldn’t turn down another coffee if I offered. Would you like one?”

“Sure,” he replied with a smile. He actually smiled at you. It was a good morning. “Thanks.”

“You know, you have a really nice smile,” you complimented him, proud that you said the words without your voice cracking.

“You think so?” He leaned back in his seat and you tried to move around the room like normal as his gaze followed your movements. “I think it scares some more than my glare does.”

You busied yourself with getting his coffee ready, the urge to defend him rising. “There’s nothing scary about your smile and anyone who says otherwise can deal with me.”

“They can deal with you, huh? Awfully kind of you.” His chuckle was so unexpected that you almost dropped the mug. The small talk was unexpected, too, but you weren't about to tell him to stop. “But you’re so sweet. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you glare at anyone.”

“Oh, I can have resting bitch face when I want to,” you teased before your heart skipped a beat. He looked at you enough that he hadn’t seen you glare at anyone? He thought you were sweet? No, it was probably just an offhand comment. “And I wouldn’t just glare at anyone to defend you. I can fight, too. Words or fists.”

“You’d fight for me, too? You really know how to flatter a man.” His gaze warmed before some of the usual strain reappeared, your heart lurching at the sight. “But you shouldn’t have to fight for me.”

You took a seat across from him again once you set the mug down. “Why not?”

“Because you just shouldn’t.” He shrugged. You recognized that he was closing part of himself off and you weren't about to kick open that door. “If I’m being honest, I’m kind of shocked you’re talking to me.”

“And why’s that?”

He tapped a finger against his mug as he considered his words. “I haven’t really said much to you since we met, but you’ve still been nice to me. Always saying hi and smiling. And now this,” he said, gesturing to the coffee. “Some people have ulterior motives when they do nice things for no reason, but I don't get that feeling with you.”

“There are people who have ulterior motives. You’re right about that,” you agreed. The world could be a dark place with terrible people. “And I guess that's one of the reasons I try to lead with kindness. Putting a bit more optimism and joy into the world might not make it change overnight, but it could make a difference to someone.”

“That makes sense,” he said, his brows pinching. “But why continue to be nice to me when I've been standoffish with you? I don't think I deserve it.”

You let the words sink in. You expected Bucky would be apprehensive of people in general when his autonomy was taken away from him for so long. Trust couldn’t be easy. People had to earn it. What you didn't expect was that he didn't think he deserved your kindness.

“Everyone is different. We all have various personalities and comfort zones. Some people hit it off right away and others don't. Some need a bit more time to open up,” you answered, an earnest smile on your face. “I guess I figured you fell into the latter. Even if you didn't, I wouldn't take it personally or hold it against you. I hope you know that.”

Bucky may have had you in a chokehold, but he didn't owe you a thing.

His shoulders sagged as he let out a breath and you wished you could wrap him up in a hug. “Thanks for being so understanding.” He observed you with a thoughtful gaze. “And you are right about one thing.”

“What’s that?”

“Your kindness made a difference for me yesterday. And you’re really easy to talk to.” He smiled, genuine affection in his eyes as your heart raced. Was it possible to faint while sitting? “I don't usually talk this much anymore.”

“I’m glad it did. You can always talk to me, you know. I’m happy to listen or even give advice if you want it,” you said sincerely. It meant a lot that he took the time to speak to you today, and if it were up to you he’d only have good things in his life going forward. No one deserved that more than him. “And if I’m ever too much for you, don't be afraid to tell me.”

His brows pinched again. “Too much? How?” he asked, his tone not as light as it was a moment ago.

You tensed, gripping your mug as you mulled over past things you heard from others. “Well, I’ve been told before that I’m too perky and too optimistic some days. That my kindness is fake and it can get on people’s nerves,” you explained carefully, swallowing a little. Yeah, you had a reputation for being kind, but some didn’t care for it. “Not that I think you would find me annoying or anything like that. It’s just how it is for some people.”

“So because you choose to be nice instead of acting bitter or rude people don’t like that?” Bucky looked at you with a mix of confusion and anger. “What the fuck is wrong with them?”

You were utterly silent from his reaction. Your heart also fluttered because he seemed upset on your behalf. “So many things, I’m sure,” you teased, hoping to make him smile a little. It was nice when he smiled at you. “But it’s okay. Really. It doesn't change who I am. I'm still going to be me.”

Cheesy, but true. You couldn't control the actions and emotions of others. You knew in your core who you were and you would continue to put that energy out into the world.

His jaw ticked, but he gazed at you with what you guessed was admiration. “Kind and steadfast,” he whispered, making your heart swell all over again. “Listen. If anyone around here does give you a hard time, will you let me know?”

The determination in his eyes took you aback. He went from hardly speaking to you to opening up a bit and now wanting to look out for you. It was nice, to say the least. “That’s okay, Bucky. You said I didn't have to fight for you, so you don't have to for me.”

“I want to.” He reached forward and hovered his hand over yours. Before he touched you though, he pulled away. You longed to know what his touch felt like. “Please?”

You couldn't resist his gaze. “Okay, but only if you let me know if anyone gives you a hard time.”

“Yeah. I got a name for you. Sam Wilson,” he deadpanned.

You burst out laughing, covering your mouth so the sound wouldn’t echo in the room or bother him. “Oh, Sam. I’ll give him a talking to,” you teased, your cheeks aching from how hard you were smiling.

“I made you laugh,” he pointed out softly, almost in disbelief. It was another moment where you wanted to wrap him up in a hug.

“Yeah, you did.”

“Wow,” he whispered, smiling before his face fell. “Fuck. I have to go.” He went to stand, but paused to look at you. “Do you ever go to the main break room?”

“I prefer this one,” you said, lightly tapping the table. “It’s quieter.”

“Me, too.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “Um, maybe I’ll see you here again tomorrow? Same time?

Warmth spread in your heart at the hope in his eyes. “Yeah, I’ll be here.”

You’d always be there if he asked.

For the next several weeks, seeing Bucky in the small break room became part of your normal morning routine. You made coffee for both of you before you sat together and talked. Some chats were casual, while others went a little deeper. Both ends of the spectrum helped you get to know each other.

He spoke fondly about a cat he found in an alley and took into his home. He named her Alpine and even showed you a photo of her on his phone. It tugged at your heartstrings seeing the ball of white fur curled up in his metal arm. How could it not?

Bucky spoke about Steve and Sam and how they tried to meet up once a week for dinner. They took turns picking the place. It was nice that he had them to lean on. Both men were always friendly toward you, but you noticed they seemed to smile at you even more since you and Bucky started talking. You assumed they were happy that their friend had someone else in his corner.

“Steve is a punk and Sam is worse,” he said once with nothing but affection in his eyes.

He explained that he was in therapy, which he wasn't ashamed of. He had no reason to be. It was a work in progress, building trust not just with the therapist but building trust within himself. He didn't get into specifics regarding what they talked about as it wasn't your business to begin with, though he did casually throw in that he had trouble sleeping some nights. You mentioned that you sometimes wrote your thoughts and feelings down if they got too loud. He told you the next day that he got himself a new notebook to try that out and you had a spring in your step the whole morning.

You didn't talk about anything particularly exciting. You told him that you didn't have a lot of family close by, but loved your job because you got to help people in some capacity. And that you enjoyed reading and watching movies when you stayed at home, but also enjoyed going out with a couple of close friends. Bucky didn't need to know that they loved teasing you about your crush. You mentioned little things, too, like how you needed to go shopping soon for a new sofa and how you hoped to see the new science exhibit at the nearby museum.

The bulk of your conversations took place in the break room, minus occasionally bumping into him around the building which didn't leave much time for chatter. It wasn't a bad thing. It was nice just to talk to him.

And while you didn't think any of the topics you brought up were interesting, Bucky listened intently every time, his eyes on you as he hung on your every word. The attention felt nice. Though you hadn't mustered up the courage to ask him to hang out outside of work, it felt like the two of you were friends because of those mornings together.

Maybe he thought you were friends, too, since he asked one day, “Do you know anything about dating apps?”

You almost spilled his coffee, but quickly recovered and avoided his concerned gaze as you sat down. “Um, no, not much. I haven’t really used them. I haven’t dated in a few months either,” you answered honestly, hoping your tone didn’t sound as bitter as the taste in your mouth. You weren’t embarrassed by your romantic status, but your heart sank just the same. “Are you… Why are you asking? Just out of curiosity.” It wasn’t your business, but it was the first time he brought up anything concerning dating or relationships.

“Sam mentioned setting me up and I brushed that off, so he mentioned using a dating app. I don’t know.” He shrugged as you hung your head.

Something settled within your chest, a heavy feeling that made it difficult to take a steady breath. But you couldn't feel sorry for yourself. Bucky was kind, good looking, and trying to adjust to a sense of normalcy. Of course he’d want to try dating again and what kind of person would you be if you didn't support him?

“Well, I can help you research some apps if you’d like. See if any may be a good fit?”

“Really? You’d do that?” he asked softly.

Your eyes drifted up and you did your best to smile. You couldn't let him see that the mere thought of him dating someone else hurt you. It was pathetic. “Yeah, I would,” you answered. You refused to let your crush on him stop you from helping him if he wanted to meet someone.

Bucky stared at you for a few seconds and you almost squirmed in your chair. “But you said you haven't really used them. Why not?”

The unexpected question did make you squirm. You couldn't blurt out that he was one of the reasons. “Well, not to be a downer or anything, but some apps almost seem to set people up for rejection. It just isn’t possible to match every single person up. And there’s also rapid judgment with some based on appearance and it makes it easy to objectify people,” you explained. It was sad, but true. “It does work for some and I’m happy for those people, but I don't know. I’d rather just meet someone and…”

“Connect with them naturally?” he guessed.

“Yeah,” you said, a sad smile touching your lips. “Is it wishful thinking to want something like that?”

“I don’t think it is at all. In fact, that’s a good reason why I probably won’t use an app,” he said. You hoped your sigh of relief wasn’t audible, but the weight lifting from your shoulders felt palpable. “Besides, what would I say if I tried to set up a profile? ‘Hi, I’m a previously brainwashed assassin over 100 years old’?”

“It would be a conversation starter,” you teased, the playful banter bringing a warm smile to his face. “And I know I brought up rapid judgment, but I’m sure one look at your profile picture and people would line out the door just to get your attention,” you smiled and gestured to his face, but his gaze dropped, a flicker of vulnerability crossing his features. “I’m sorry. I…”

He shook his head, and you caught a hint of a smile that made your heart flutter. “No, it’s… It’s kind of nice to hear that,” he admitted, his gaze drifting away like he was lost in thought. “Dating came easy to me years ago and I don’t think I really appreciated it back then. The thought of trying again is a little scary.”

His voice was soft, almost reflective, as if he were speaking more to himself than to you. You felt a swell of empathy for the weight of his past. “Well, whenever your next date happens? I hope they know how lucky they are,” you said, your heart aching to convey how deserving he was of genuine connection.

You just wished that connection was with you.

The warm smile returned to his face as he gazed at you. “Thanks,” he whispered.

Your heart ached in your chest. “Anytime,” you whispered back, quickly standing up before tears pricked your eyes. “I should get to work. Have a good day, okay?”

“Oh. You, too.” He looked like he wanted to stop you, but he hung back. It was all in your head anyway. He didn't want to stop you. Why would he?

You wiped your eyes once you were out of the break room. Rushing away was cowardly and you knew it. It was silly, too.

You wondered if the coffee talks would continue once he found his dream girl. Would he tell you about her? Would bile rise to your throat when he sang their praises or smiled a soft smile not reserved for you? You had to stop thinking about it. You couldn't fall apart just because Bucky wasn't yours, and it was something you’d need to come to terms with when he found someone else.

And maybe tomorrow it wouldn't hurt so much.

Bucky looked a little tired when he joined you the next morning, not saying a word. He still offered you a smile. You didn't speak either, but you gave him a small smile in return.

The night before, you wrestled with the idea of telling him how you felt. All you had to do was get the words out. But the words froze in your throat like ice and you kept quiet, both of you sipping your coffee as the seconds passed by.

You almost wanted to fill the void with more chatter, but it didn’t feel necessary. The silence was oddly comforting. Silence was also safe. He seemed content just to sit there with you, and you were afraid you’d blurt something out that you couldn’t take back.

“Did I do something to upset you yesterday?” he asked suddenly. His gaze was so gentle, yet deep, looking for an answer you couldn't fully give him. “You rushed out without finishing your coffee, and you always finish your coffee, so I had to have done something.”

Your heart breaks from his words. Rushing off made him think it was his fault, and you never wanted to imply that. “No, you didn't upset me,” you replied. That was true. Bucky didn't do anything to upset you. It was your own mind and feelings that did that. “I just had work to do.”

He didn't look convinced, and you couldn't blame him. “You sure?”

“I’m sure.” You put a smile on your face, but you felt terrible. “And I don't think you could do anything to upset me.”

“Then you wouldn't mind sparring with me tomorrow morning by any chance, would you?” he asked.

You inhaled, not expecting him to ask you that. “You want to spar with me?” You discreetly pinched yourself, testing to see if you were dreaming or not. He was asking you to hang out with him outside of the break room. Kind of. “Really?” you added, your heart racing when he nodded.

“Yeah. What do you say?” he asked. Oh, it was a bad idea to spar with Bucky Barnes. Not because you couldn't learn from him, but what the hell were you going to do to reign in your sexual frustration? “Unless you're busy.”

“Yes!” you blurted out quickly, clearing your throat as you tried to regain some of your composure. You swore his cheek twitched like he was trying not to smile. “I mean, no, I'm not busy. I’m totally free and I'd love to spar with you,” you said, praying you sounded normal and not like some lovesick woman with an overgrowing crush.

Which was exactly what you were.

But you weren't about to turn down a chance to spar with him. Who in their right mind would? How many times had you imagined him slamming your body against the mats and pinning you down? Both of you breathing heavily, his face shining from the perspiration. You were thankful the super soldier couldn't read minds because now all you could think about was him tearing your clothes away and spearing you open with his cock and-

“Okay then,” he said, finishing his coffee before he took the mug to the sink. “Second floor gym. Room 2. 6 am.”

“6 am. I’ll be there,” you promised, gazing after him as he walked toward the door. “See you then, Sergeant.”

His entire body went rigid before he looked back at you, the metal fingers of his left arm twitching. Your heart sank, worried that you said something wrong. Would he take back his offer?

You stood up from the table. “Bucky, I-”

An agent walked through the door and bumped Bucky out of the way. At least he tried to. The super soldier didn't budge.

“Excuse me,” Bucky said.

“Watch it,” the agent sneered, bumping his shoulder again. He still didn't budge. “Think you're special because you got some serum in your veins and Rogers wanted to save your ass? You’re nothing.”

You gasped. You could handle people saying things about you, but people you cared about? It made you see red. How dare this guy say anything like that to Bucky?

“Nothing but HYDRA’s little bitch.”

Bucky glared and looked about two seconds away from smacking the guy across the room, but he hung his head after a second and didn't breathe a word. Maybe he didn't want to make a big deal out of it or didn't think it was worth it. You, however, wouldn't put up with it. Not for a second.

“Hey! Agent asshole,” you snapped, marching over until you were between Bucky and the agent. “Apologize to him.”

The agent cackled at you and you heard Bucky’s metal fingers curl. “Apologize? He was in my way.” He reached out a hand to pat your head. “But it’s kind of cute to see you defending the Winter Soldier. That's-” You grabbed his wrist and twisted it. “Ow, fuck!”

“And now I’m in your way,” you said sweetly, twisting a bit more until his knees buckled. “Apologize, now.”

“Fuck, fuck, I’m sorry!” he shouted.

Bucky had a look of awe on his face when you looked back at him. “It’s okay,” he said above a whisper.

You released the guy and pointed at the door. “Whatever you need you can get it later,” you said, satisfied when the agent scrambled out the door.

Bucky stared at you when you faced him, silence hanging in the air. “You okay?” you finally asked. Was twisting the guy’s wrist too much?

“I…” Bucky blinked rapidly and cleared his throat. “You defended me.”

“Well, yeah. I told you if anyone gave you a hard time they could deal with me,” you smiled. It didn't matter how small the matter was, you’d stick up for him. People like that guy often mistook your kindness for weakness. “And what he said was completely out of line.”

“Thank you.” His fingers reached out and touched yours, sending a jolt of electricity through your body. “Really. Thank you.”

“Don't need to thank me,” you said, giddy from his small touch. “And, listen, before he rudely interrupted, I was going to ask if it bothered you that I called you Sergeant.”

You thought you saw his fingers twitch again, but he shook his head. “No. I… kind of like hearing that from you.”

“Oh.” You dipped your head to hide your smile. “I’ll see you tomorrow then? 6 am?”

“Yeah, you will,” he said softly, meeting your gaze as you lifted your head again.

“Have a good day then, Sergeant.”

He inhaled sharply. “Don’t be late tomorrow,” he gruffly spoke before he left the room without another word, hearts in your eyes as you stayed rooted to the spot.

You mentally jumped for joy from how excited you were. You couldn't keep the smile off your face the rest of the day. Bucky could've asked anyone in the building to spar with him, but he chose you. And he stuck up for you because some guy bumped into you. Now you just had to make sure you wouldn't make a fool of yourself in the morning.

Easy enough, right?

You spent more time than you cared picking out the perfect exercise outfit. It didn't matter what you wore since he only asked you to practice with him. It wasn't like he asked you out on a date. Still, you were hopeful that the matching black set would make him look at least once.

If anything, it was a confidence booster for yourself since you liked how you looked in it.

“Confidence is sexy,” you smiled before you grabbed your bag to go.

You got to the gym in record time, not wanting to be late or keep him waiting. Nodding to a few people on machines before you made it to the second floor, you had to pause and take a breath before you entered Room 2. The air was a bit cooler in the sparring area, which was good considering you’d likely work up a sweat.

Dropping your bag near the door, you nearly jumped when you spotted Bucky a few feet away staring at you. “Right on time,” he said, your throat dry as he nodded to the mat. “I stretched before you got here.”

“Hey,” you said, removing your jacket, the zipper loud in the quiet room. You gave him what you hoped was a nice smile when you went to the mat. “Shouldn't take me long.”

The Sergeant stood against the wall with his arms crossed as you began to stretch, one foot pressed against it as his eyes slid over to you. Quickly averting your gaze, you tried to concentrate on warming up instead of how good he looked in his workout gear. While his sweatpants hung low on his hips, the dark short sleeved shirt clung to him like a second skin. He had his hair pulled back, too, which only enhanced how bright his eyes looked under the ceiling lights.

You refused to get aroused just from looking at him.

Too. Fucking. Late.

“You good? You don't seem as chipper as usual,” he said.

“Yeah, I…” What were you even going to say? That his mere presence in his current attire made you wet? “I didn't have my coffee before I left, so no caffeine. This might wake me up.”

He didn't seem convinced, but he nodded after a moment. “I know the feeling,” he said with a soft smile. “Thanks for joining me so early. And sorry if it threw off your routine.”

“Nothing to be sorry for. Morning exercises are good for the mind and body,” you said, standing once you finished stretching. He probably had a full schedule ahead of him. “I have to admit though, just like you were surprised I was nice to you a while back, I'm a little surprised you asked me to spar with you.”

“And why is that?” he asked as he approached the mat, all confidence as he took his spot.

Your throat went dry again before you cleared it. “Because someone like Steve is more evenly matched,” you said. Super soldier to super soldier, you could go for hours. “And chances of me beating you are also pretty slim.”

Way to downplay yourself.

“You nearly brought that agent to his knees yesterday and you didn't break a sweat.” His head tilted a fraction, his eyes carefully taking you in from head to toe. “You don't think you can take me?”

Your next breath came out in a rush. If you didn't know any better, you would've said he asked that on purpose. Oh, you had imagined Bucky telling you how well you'd take him, but not like this. You'd take what you can get.

“I can take you,” you stated.

You could only describe the look in his eyes as feral as he got into position. “I'm sure you can,” he said, your only warning before he rushed at you.

Blocking Bucky’s hit, you told yourself not to smile and focused on dodging another hit. He had advantages on his side, like his strength with the serum in his veins, but you were determined to show him that you were a worthy opponent. You also knew he wouldn't try to harm you. Anything he threw your way would be to help you improve.

Bucky grinned when he blocked your kick and you almost let it distract you. “I think you're giving me a run for my money,” he said before he performed a back full twisting layout to dodge another kick. Was that the proper term? Whatever it was, the move was more agile than you could comprehend.

“And I think you’re showing off,” you teased, extending your leg for a sweep instead. You huffed when he flipped away again. “Either that or Steve’s theatrics have rubbed off on you.”

“Don't tell him that. Wouldn't want him to get a big head,” he winked.

The back and forth went on for a few minutes, your breathing heavier and heart racing. Part of you wondered if he was pulling punches for your sake, but he didn't let up. It was exhilarating. You hoped he asked you to spar with him again.

“Tell me something.” Bucky brushed some of the loose hair back with the back of his hand, both of you panting lightly as the motions stopped for a second. “Why are you single?”

Your eyes widened at the question. “W-What?” you breathed, almost losing your footing as you stepped back. Why would he ask you that and why now?

“You told me why you don't use dating apps and you want to make a genuine connection, but you haven't mentioned anyone special,” he shrugged, tilting his head when he stepped forward. “You know you can tell me if there’s someone you like, right?”

“Maybe we can have this conversation when we’re done sparring?” you suggested. It would give you a chance to collect yourself.

He shook his head. “No, I think we should have this conversation now, if that’s okay.”

“I guess. If you insist.” You blocked his swing, barely. “There’s… someone I like, but I don’t know if he feels the same way.”

His cheek twitched, like he wasn't expecting that answer. “Who is he? Do I know him?”

That question threw you off a bit more. Why did he want to know who? “Yeah. Yeah, you do,” you said.

“Is it Steve? Sam?” he pressed, a hint of anger in his eyes. “Some other agent?”

“No, no, and no,” you replied, sighing as you dropped your arms. “Listen, do we really-”

Bucky swept your legs out from under you. The air left your lungs when your back hit the mat and he settled over you before you could get up, pinning your arms at your side. You tried to twist out of his hold and couldn't even use your thighs to roll him off you since he had those pinned, too.

“You let your guard down,” he said.

“Yep,” you said, the word clipped as you tried to look anywhere but at him. It was impossible. He was everywhere.

“Now this guy you like,” he started with a tilt of his head. He wasn't letting this go, was he? “If it’s someone I know and he isn't Steve, Sam, or another agent, who is he?”

You bit your lip, wishing you a chance to hide or bolt.

“Tell me,” he begged, his eyes staring into yours. “Please.”

Oh, God. Did he have any clue how you felt? At the very least, could he sense how he affected you by laying on top of you? How hard your nipples were against your top or the wetness that gathered between your thighs?

Now wasn't the time to focus on being horny.

He sighed when you didn’t speak. “Answer this then: Is there even the slightest chance that it’s me?” he asked, the question hanging in the air between you.

“I…” You swallowed hard as he waited patiently for your answer with an expectant gaze. He was so close and the position was too vulnerable, but you had to bite the bullet and tell him the truth. “It isn't a slight chance. It's one hundred percent you.”

“What?” he whispered.

Super soldier hearing, he should've heard you perfectly clear, right? “I like you, Bucky. I care about you. I pretty much have since I met you,” you finished, the quiet admittance making your chest burn.

It was out in the open now and no longer suppressing your feelings was a good thing.

He stared straight into your eyes, your heart picking up a notch. “You like me?” The weight of him left your thighs, but you couldn't breathe when he settled between them. “At the risk of sounding like an arrogant prick, are you single because you’ve been waiting for me?”

“Yes,” you whispered, swallowing again. “And you aren’t arrogant. Far from it.”

“So, every morning we’ve had coffee together and even before that, you cared about me? And when I brought up the dating app a couple of days ago and you offered to help me, you had feelings for me? And when you defended me?” He tilted his head further when you nodded. “And you didn't say anything until now?” It didn't feel like an accusation, but your eyes welled up anyway.

“Yes, the whole time. I didn't want to tell you and make things weird if you didn't feel the same way and I would've rather have you as a friend than nothing at all. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” you rambled as a tear slid from the corner of your eye. You weren't trying to deceive him by keeping your crush on him a secret. “We are kind of friends, right?”

The two of you hadn’t hung out outside of work, but there was something there. At the very least, there was a comradery. After this, who knew if he’d even want to speak to you again.

“I don't want to be your friend,” he said with conviction, your heart shattering. It was like he punched you right in the gut and maybe you deserved that. He smiled softly, something beautifully tragic when you struggled beneath him. Why wasn't he letting you up? “Wait, no, no. That’s not what I meant.”

You went limp when you couldn't break his hold. “Then what do you mean?!”

“I want to be so much more than that.”

“You…” the rest of the words died on your lips because what did he say?

A metal finger moved down your cheek, the touch cool against your warm skin as he wiped another tear away. The finger then tipped your chin before his mouth descended on yours. You weren't sure why you expected it to be a rough kiss, but it was anything but. His lips teased yours along with his tongue, coaxing you to open your mouth to his. It was demanding in the gentlest of ways.

It wasn't a rushed kiss either. It was thorough, slow, like he had nowhere else in the world to be. Did he have any idea of the spark he ignited within you? It was something hot, needy, out of control. Fire raced through your veins. You'd go up in flames if he kept kissing you like that. Like you meant something to him.

“I care about you, too,” he whispered. You inhaled sharply when he trailed kisses along your face. “I’ve liked you since we met.”

“You have?” you asked.

“Yeah,” he smiled, kissing the corner of your mouth. “I hoped you might feel the same, but I’m a bit rusty when it comes to this and I couldn't get a read on you when I mentioned the dating app. I figured this approach might be better.”

“Well,” you gasped when you felt something hard pressed against you. “It worked,” you said. You were glad he took the leap of faith.

“I’ll always remember the first time you smiled at me. I won't let anyone take that memory away from me,” he groaned against your skin, your eyes tearing up again. “And the way you stuck up for me… I don’t deserve you. I don't know if I ever will.”

“Don't say that,” you begged when he released your other wrist, giving you the chance to wrap your arms around him. “You deserve every bit of happiness.”

He smiled as his kisses moved down to your neck and you could only whimper when he licked and sucked over your pulse. “You're so caring. So good,” he said, rocking his hips forward. The sweet words combined with the sensual movements of his body fueled your desire. You also bit your lip to keep from bursting into tears from his praise. “And you're so beautiful, you know that? Inside and out.”

“You keep talking like that, I’ll keep crying,” you tried to joke.

He lifted his head to wipe another tear away. “Happy tears?”

“Very happy,” you promised, shifting underneath him and brushing his crotch again.

His mouth fell open as his eyes shut. It was one of the sexiest looks you had ever seen. “If you keep doing that, I’ll embarrass myself,” he said in a strained voice.

“Is that a bad thing?” you smiled innocently.

“Maybe not. I have a quick rebound rate if I do,” he teased, frowning when your smile slipped. “Shit, are you okay? Did I say something wrong?”

“I’m fine. You didn’t say anything wrong,” you promised, touching his cheek. “I just… Am I dreaming?”

His lips touched yours again, You would’ve melted into the mat if you weren’t already underneath him. “You’re not dreaming,” he whispered. The groan he let out when you moved beneath him again reminded you that he really was settled between your legs. And hard. “I wanted to take you out on a nice date before I even touched you, but I don’t know if I can wait. You’re driving me crazy.”

Well, nothing had happened quite yet. Just a confession of feelings. And some kissing. And grinding.

“You’re driving me crazy, too, but if you want to stop, I understand,” you said. It didn't have to go further if he didn't want to, especially since it was fast.

His forehead touched yours. “Do you?”

You nearly shouted that you didn’t want him to stop, would never want him to stop, but this wasn’t just about you. “I don’t, but I get it if you do,” you said. You were kind of in a public place and consent went both ways. If he was the slightest bit uncomfortable, you were fine with stopping.

It seemed to be all he needed to hear since he kissed you again, eagerly licking into your mouth. Your heart was still racing out of control, the high from the exercise running through your veins. You wondered if he felt that adrenaline, too. If the confession of your feelings was the water against the dam, admitting that you wanted him physically, too, was the thing to break it.

“It’s just… I don’t…” He lifted his head to look around before he smiled. “Wait, hold on.”

He pushed himself up, your body cold from the sudden lack of heat. The tent he sported in his pants sent a surge of pride through you as he went as gracefully as he could to the door. Locking it, he went to his bag next and dug out a towel.

“What are you doing?” you asked when he came back quickly.

“Trying to be a gentleman,” he smiled, lifting your hips to place the towel underneath. “Sorry, the mat’s just kind of dirty and I think you deserve a little better than that.”

“You certainly are a gentleman,” you smiled back.

“The things I want to do to you are far from gentlemanly,” he said, reaching for the waistband of your pants and peeling them down with your underwear. You were sweaty and gross, but if he didn’t care, you wouldn’t either. “I wish I could lay you out and kiss every inch of your body.”

“Maybe after I shower,” you teased, both of you chuckling as you helped push his pants and underwear down. Once all was said and done the two of you could talk and figure out a date and him properly taking you to bed, but having him take you then and there was perfect. “Oh…”

Words left your mind when you saw his hard and heavy cock. A bead of precum dripped from the head and you wished you could have a taste. There was a good chance he’d split you in half, but it would be worth feeling him for days on end.

“Bucky, please,” you begged, opening your legs more as an offering. You didn’t care if it made you look desperate for him, which you were. You just hoped it looked enticing.

With blown pupils and a small growl, he shook his head. It was enough to make you want to cry. “I need to stretch you first, sweetheart.”

The term of endearment made you smile even when you argued, “I don’t need you to stretch me. I can take it.”

He narrowed his eyes, but gave you a smile, too, as he brought his hand to your scorching heat. “We’re both desperate for this, but I’m going to stretch your pretty cunt to make room for my cock. Got it?”

Shivering at his tone, you nodded. “Yes, Sergeant,” you answered, biting your lip when you saw his cock twitch. “You really like me saying that, don't you?”

“Yes,” he groaned. You’d have to keep calling him that in and out of bed then.

He rubbed along your folds slowly, like he was memorizing the feel. Deep down, he was a gentleman. Badly wanting you, but making sure he wouldn’t hurt you. What more could you ask for?

“Can I confess something?” he asked gently as the first finger sank into you, gently exploring. Gasping at the welcomed intrusion, you nodded. He could say anything he wanted. “I've imagined you just like this,” he stated, pulling his finger out before pushing it in deeper.

“You have?” you asked before he pushed a second finger in, both of them curling slightly. It sent sparks of pleasure down your spine.

“It almost felt wrong because I hadn’t even asked you to go out with me, but I couldn’t help myself.” His voice was huskier as he pumped his fingers, your hand fisting in his shirt. You throbbed with need, a kind of need you couldn’t ever remember feeling. “I wondered what kind of sounds you’d make and how you’d feel around me if you ever let me have you.”

More heat pooled in your core as you spread your legs wider for him.

“Making such pretty sounds for me already. And your pussy, it feels like heaven. Might even make me see God once I have my cock in you.” He glanced down to watch his fingers slide in and out of your tight passage, his tongue darting out to wet his lips. “Fuck, you’re so warm. And tight. And wet,” he continued, an almost cocky smile on his face when his thumb swiped over your clit and drew a small whimper from you. "Guess I haven’t completely lost my touch.”

“That is both hot and…” you had to pause when he added a third finger, making you stretch around the digits. He was going to be the death of you. “Is it bad if I’m a little jealous because I don’t want to think about you touching anyone else?”

Something sparked in his pretty blue eyes. “Does my girl have a jealous streak?” He slid a fourth finger in, your back arching with a small cry. “I’m flattered, but you have nothing to worry about. You’re the only one I want.”

Your breaths were shallow from his touch alone, but the sweet words got under your skin. “You don’t have to worry about anyone else either,” you exhaled. He knew you weren’t seeing anyone, but you felt the need to assure him. “And I like that.”

“Like what?”

Your hand twisted in his shirt more. “The idea of being your girl,” you managed to answer, your body writhing as he moved his fingers in a beautifully torturous motion. “Enough, Bucky, please.”

“Enough what?”

“I’m stretched. I’m on the pill. Just… put your cock in me, please!” Panting by the end of your begging rant with mist in your eyes, you added, “Can I at least touch you if you won’t fuck me?”

The beautiful bastard had the nerve to laugh when he took his fingers out. “Kind and steadfast, even when you’re begging to get fucked,” he said, his eyes slipping shut for a second as he licked the first two fingers clean. “I promise you can touch me later if you let me get a proper taste of your sweet cunt.”

Your cheeks got so hot it shocked you that you didn’t catch on fire. “Yes, please,” you whispered, the promise of later making you quiver.

The room felt like it was spinning when he stared down at you and licked his fingers again. He kept his eyes on you when he wrapped them around his cock and guided it to your waiting hole. You tried to calm the beating of your heart when he slipped the blunt head in, but you were powerless to do anything but feel as he kept pushing in. You trembled and gripped his shoulders once his hips were flush against yours, throbbing around his thickness already when hadn't started thrusting.

“Fuck, you’re perfect,” he gasped, dropping his forehead to yours again as he trembled, too. “I need…” he breathed against your lips. “I just need a second, please.”

“Okay,” you whispered, wondering if he was as overwhelmed as you were. Maybe moreso. You weren’t sure exactly how long it had been for him. And being enhanced, you didn’t know if the sensations felt different or stronger. You just hoped he felt good. And happy.

His metal hand framed your cheek, so gentle in contrast to the damage he could do with it. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” you smiled, tilting your head up to kiss him. “I can take it,” you promised. Your body had adjusted to his size and now you wanted him to move, to feel all of him.

He finally began to thrust, moaning against your lips. You lifted your hips, trying to take him in more. The hand on your face slid down your body before it moved to your hip, keeping you in place so you could feel him nice and deep. He pulled his cock out almost completely before he thrust back in, making you cry out as you quivered around him. You wanted to soak his cock, consume him the way he was consuming you.

“You’re taking me so well,” he praised as you bit your lip. “No, lemme hear those pretty sounds. C’mon,” he said, changing his angle slightly so you moaned loudly. He moaned, too, as he kept thrusting. “There you go. So beautiful.”

You wanted to scream for him. You also wondered what it would feel like to have his hand around your throat or over your mouth to smother those very sounds if you ever snuck off during work to fool around. There were so many things you wanted to try with him.

“Bucky,” you whined, digging your nails into his shoulders as he moved faster. Piercing pleasure built from your core and spread slowly throughout your body. You felt like you couldn’t breathe from how good it felt, how he felt.

The intensity in his turbulent eyes was similar to when he listened to you talk in the break room, but with much more heat. Had he looked at you like that all along? “Wanna mark you up one day. Let everyone see that you’re my girl,” he grunted, dragging his mouth from your face to your neck. He lightly bit down, smirking when you whined again. “Would you let me?”

“Yes,” you moaned, tilting your head to give him more access. You’d feel so proud to wear his mark. There wouldn’t be any shame if people saw or asked because you’d get to say you belonged to Bucky.

“You feel so fucking good,” he rasped, surging into you over and over, the sound of skin-on-skin echoing off the walls with your cries. “Sweetheart, I’m not gonna last.”

The term of endearment again. It had your heart clenching along with your pussy. “Neither am I,” you breathed, bringing his head back to yours. You framed his cheeks, ecstasy close to crashing over you. From the strain in his handsome face, he was on the edge, too. “Come with me? Mark me up inside?”

It was a question and not a demand because you wouldn’t demand anything from the man who somehow stole your heart.

Through the pleasure twisting his face, he smiled. “Come with me.”

The heightened pleasure crashing over you was powerful enough that you almost screamed, your walls spasming around him. Shudders wracked your body as your breath ceased, trying to hold his gaze as the heat engulfed you. Your release coated him, just like you wanted it to. And it was only a few more thrusts from him before he tipped over the edge, filling you up in return. You both marked each other in the best possible way.

You laid limp beneath him, both of you panting. Your slick, wet heat still burned around him as released your hips and pushed himself up, a bead of sweat from his skin dripping onto yours. You gazed at each other, something tender passing between you. You wished the moment didn't have to end.

He leaned back down to nuzzle your nose and you couldn’t help but giggle breathlessly at the affectionate move. “You okay?” he asked.

“Yeah,” you replied, still dazed. “You?”

“Better than okay,” he said, smiling when you tucked some of his hair back. He looked good like this.

“I don't think I can move,” you teased.

“We have to, sadly,” he sighed, sliding himself from the warmth of your body. You whined at the loss, your hole clenching around nothing as your mixed release seeped onto the towel beneath you. “I know, but in case the next group that uses this room gets here early, I don’t want them to see you with your pants down,” he told you as he sat back and looked over you. You took a moment to look over him as well, getting a glance at his glorious thighs. You longed for the chance for you both to truly explore each other’s bodies. “And we could both use a shower.”

You inhaled when he used the clean part of the towel to gently wipe you both down. “Mmm. Together?”

He chuckled, helping you pull your underwear and pants back up. His hands lingered on your hips and you were two seconds from shoving the fabric back down. “If I get you in the shower, we won’t make it to work on time.”

“I don’t mind being late.” You tried to lift your arms to help him pull up his pants, too, but he beat you to it. It was a shame he had to cover up. “Or we could call in? I still have a lot of days off to use.”

“Yeah? You want to call in?”

“Yeah,” you said eagerly. Too eagerly. “Maybe?”

You almost shrank in on yourself when he raised an eyebrow. He told you he cared about you and he sure as hell just fucked you like he craved you, but you didn’t want to come across as clingy, especially so soon. The two of you still needed to figure things out.

And what if the things said were just from the heat of the moment? You weren't sure if your heart could take it if he walked away without another thought. He wouldn't do that though, right?

His gaze softened, helping you sit up, his face inches from yours as he rubbed your arms. “Hey. What’s the matter?” he asked, your heart in your throat when he smiled again. “Was I that bad?”

“No, not at all. You were amazing, holy shit, and telling you how I feel was long overdue,” you promised, his smile softer. “It’s just…”

His brows pinched. “It’s just what?”

You took a breath. “I've wanted to hear for so long that you had feelings for me, too. And now that it’s really sinking in, I guess I still feel like I’m dreaming a bit. That none of this happened,” you admitted, placing your hand on his chest. His heart was still beating fast, like yours. “That tomorrow I’ll just go back to being the girl who has a crush on you and nothing more.”

“What?” His face slowly fell. Why did you open your mouth? “No, that's not going to happen.”

“We just went from work friends to whatever just transpired, and I don’t want it to be too much or too fast for you or for you to regret this,” you blurted out, biting your lip hard. “I don't want to be too much for you,” you added in a whisper. Your insecurity surfaced more as the post-sex haze faded and you wished it hadn't. “I’m sorry. I don't know why I’m ruining the moment.”

It was stupid. Where had your optimism gone? He told you he cared about you. He gazed at you like you meant something to him. It was everything you wanted, so why were you questioning it?

“You didn't ruin anything.”

“Are you sure?” you asked softly.

Bucky placed his hand over yours, the other going to the back of your head so you couldn't move away. “I’m sure, now listen to me: Whatever is going on between us isn’t too much and you are not too much. You are never too much,” he said with fierceness akin to a growling wolf. “I want you and I want to be with you. I wouldn’t joke about that,” he assured you, your lips tugging in a small smile. “I get feeling like it's a dream, believe me, but it isn't. It's real and what just happened was real.”

Hearing him declare his feelings again made your heart soar. “I know you wouldn’t joke about that,” you said. He wasn’t cruel. He wouldn’t toy with your feelings like that. “I just want you to be happy. You know that, right?”

“I do and I am happy,” he said, his eyes full of longing. He experienced so much pain and loss and deserved happiness. “I’ve lost so much of my life, so much time, and I don't want to waste another second. So believe me when I say I want you to be my girl.”

A sob threatened to work its way up. “Oh, Bucky,” you whispered, your head dipping down before he lifted it back up.

“That connection you’ve talked about wanting, I feel that with you. I trust you. That’s why I’ve been able to open up to you. The person who made me coffee and offered me kindness and understanding and just let me be me,” he said, making you smile more. You wished you could wrap each word around your heart. “I want to hold your hand in the break room and kiss you in the halls. I want you today and I’ll want you tomorrow and the day after that. And the only thing I regret from any of this is not asking you to be my girl sooner.”

His words, his stare, his touch, they healed the senseless wound your insecurity put on your heart. “I’m yours.” You surged forward, your lips crashing against his. He sighed before he returned the kiss, likely feeling the same relief you had. You wished you could put into words how much his assurance meant, but you hoped your kiss expressed it. “Thank you for both coaxing my feelings out of me and assuring me that you want this.”

“Anytime.” He brushed another kiss across your lips. “You know how you said you hoped the next person who dated me knew how lucky they were?” he asked. You remembered. “I'm the lucky one because you’re taking a chance on me.”

“You’re a smooth talker.” You had no clue how you kept the tears at bay. It meant everything that he wanted to be with you. “I think we’re both lucky.”

He smiled at that. “Yeah, but I still don’t deserve you,” he whispered, kissing you again before you could argue that he was more than worthy. “So, you want to spend the day with me?”

“Yeah, I do. We can go on a day date or just talk some more at my place or yours,” you answered, not feeling the need to hide anymore. “That’s not too much to ask, is it?”

“Sweetheart, you just let me fuck you on a sparring mat. You can ask me for anything you want,” he smirked, catching your face between his hands. “But this day date doesn’t count as the nice date I want to take you on. My girl deserves something special.”

Your heart tightened in your chest, your emotions starting to run high again before you took a calming breath. “Then how about after that shower we call in, go to a cafe, get a cup of coffee, and figure out that date together? Maybe I’ll even convince you that you do deserve me.”

He huffed, taking your hands and helping you both up. You’d never be able to look at a pair of sweatpants again without thinking of what transpired there. “Okay, but I’m warning you right now that I probably won’t like the coffee.”

“Why not?”

“Because you didn’t make it,” he smiled. “Maybe we can check out that science exhibit you mentioned.”

You giggled. He remembered. “That would be nice,” you said, leaning close when he slipped his arm around you and guided you toward your bag. “You know, I can make more than just coffee. Just say the word and I’ll cook for you,” you said. You’d love to cook him a nice meal.

“Word,” he deadpanned.

You giggled again. “Later,” you promised. You’d make him something special. “Do you think Alpine will like me?”

“She’ll love you,” he promised, giving you a sheepish smile. “I told her all about you. And I think the last few dinners with Steve and Sam all I talked about was you.”

“You told your cat about me? You're adorable,” you smiled. It was really sweet. “And… Will Steve and Sam be happy?” They were his friends and you hoped they approved.

“Steve will be thrilled.” He huffed again. “But Sam’s opinion doesn't matter. Fuck him.”

With a teasing smile, you asked, “Wait, I thought I was supposed to give Sam a talking to. Are you offering for me to fuck him?” You shrieked when he growled and picked you up, placing you over his shoulder. “Bucky!”

“You’re not fucking anyone but me. You’re my girl and I’ll mark you up to prove it if I have to,” he said, keeping a firm hand on you as he carried you away. “But for now, let’s shower before we call in.”

“Yes, Sergeant.”

Bucky didn’t have to prove anything. He had you in a chokehold from the start and always would. And you were proud to finally be his girl.

Woohoo! You made it! I like to think this reader has bits of Smartie and Mrs. Barnes, and she deserves her man! I know these two will have wonderful times ahead! Love and thanks for reading. ❤️

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