#it reminds me of when i tried to ask for another way to do a piece of homework because you needed to ask multiple people things

[wileys-russo]

in the blink of an eye (5) II a.putellas

series masterlist in the blink of an eye (5) II a.putellas

"-it happened again? usted no es serio?" you laughed in disbelief, the empty takeout cups of your coffees empty and long finished on the table in front of you.

"de nuevo. they must have a whatsapp!" alexia joked awkwardly as you grinned, the sight sending a very strange feeling through the blondes stomach which she rapidly pushed down and away.

"her new girlfriend leaving her for her ex girlfriend, different girls but twice now. we are sure she does not just find all of these chicas in the same bar?" you joked back as alexia chuckled, lips curling with amusement.

"sí sí, está maldita!" alexia shook her head, picking at the piece of banana cake she'd insisted the two of you split since it looked so good but you'd both been so busy talking you'd barely had a second to get a bite in, the icing now a little hard and crumbly.

"alexia you cannot call your own hermana cursed!" you laughed a little louder, throwing your head back and missing the soft smile which curved into the features of the girl across from you who covered it up by placing a forkful of cake into her mouth.

"por qué? she is!" the catalan insisted as you playfully rolled your eyes and sliced off your own mouthful of cake. "alba is unlucky, not cursed." you chuckled, covering your mouth with your hand as you pushed the fork past your lips causing alexia to snicker.

"qué?" you frowned once you'd swallowed and she wordlessly shook her head, small smile still playing on her face as you quirked an eyebrow. "no, tell me." you urged, twirling the fork between your fingers as your ex chuckled.

"you still do the eh, the mouth thing, when you eat." the girl gestured to her lips as you looked on confused, cutting off more cake and once again holding your hand over your mouth as you shoveled it inside.

"eso!" the blonde laughed as you did, pointing her finger at you accusingly as you realized just what she was referring to, feeling your cheeks heat up a little.

"i cannot help it, blame my mami for always telling me i looked ugly when i eat!" you rolled your eyes, alexia worried for a moment she'd offended you before your upper lip quivered as you tried not to smile.

"well you did like to talk with your mouth full." alexia teased as your eyes widened and she felt you kick her lightly under the table, mumbling that she was a dirty liar under your breath as the blonde grinned and snaked another bite of cake.

"cómo está ella?" the midfielder asked, tone softening just slightly but as hard as she may have tried you couldn't miss the ever so subtle hint of pity behind her question, and knowing exactly what it was about.

"ella está bien. she still grieves, cries, mourns, she thinks she hides it well but..." you trailed off with a sad smile, one which alexia mirrored as she hummed to show she was listening, giving you her full attention.

"i think having posie around is sometimes difficult for her even if she will never say so. mariposa is a reminder of natalia in ways that can be so beautiful, but also so hard." you mused honestly, not really having had anyone to talk to this about for some time now.

"she is also getting older, and that shows in her body more than she wants to accept. it is also why she is not able to take posie full time, she struggles to pick her up and hold her with the arthritis." you added on, realizing you were rambling a little more than you intended and stiffening, clearing your throat.

"lo siento, no quería seguir. cómo está eli?" you asked swiftly, alexia's eyebrows knitting together into a frown. "you do not need to be sorry. we got a coffee to catch up, no? that means actually talking about things." the girl reminded firmly but not unkindly as you nodded, flashing her a smile.

"it is nice, talking." you spat out honestly, the words leaving your mouth faster than you could take them back as surprised flickered across the blondes face but she was quick to mask it.

"sí, gracias por preguntarme." the older girl smiled sincerely, both of you mumbling a thank you to the waitress who collected your empty cups and plate, both of you praising how good they were.

"that cake was not as perfect as your mami's, but still it was good. i missed barcelona!" you sighed quickly diverting topics before an uncomfortable silence could build at all.

"i missed you." alexia spoke without thinking, her cheeks blushing pink as she realised her words and was quick to sit up a little straighter. "it missed you, barcelona, i am sure it missed you." she was fast to correct herself, both of you knowing that was not what she meant but alexia was grateful you chose to move on to save her any further embarassment.

and without her little slip up, the next question may not have tumbled out of your mouth quite so loosely.

"would you like to come over for dinner? to meet posie properly." you asked quickly, hesitating for a moment if you should retract the invitation, doubt swirling angrily through your head as you fiddled nervously with your fingers in your lap, hands well hidden beneath the table.

"i do not know if-" you didn't even let her fiinsh before humiliation and regret washed over you and you interrupted. "lo siento, eso fue una idea terrible." you apologised, stammering a little and alexia jolted as you stood clearly about to leave.

"oye oye! no no no, please sit." alexia stood as well, gesturing for you to sit down as you paused but none the less slowly lowered yourself back into your chair and she did the same.

"if you let me finish, i do not know if i can tonight. but i would like to, really, if you are okay with it?" alexia now hesitated, playing with the hem of her shorts as she awaited your reponse.

"sí, si está seguro." you echoed her question as you both exchanged a somewhat awkward smile. "sí, two friends having dinner." alexia confired with a curt nod.

"si, two friends who almost got married." you blurted out, hand smacking over your mouth once you had and cursing yourself over and over in your head.

"oh dios mío alexia, estoy-" you started, stopping abruptly when much to your surprise a belt of laughter left her mouth instead, the blonde locking eyes with you as your lip twitched and before either of you could help it the air was filled with your amusement.

"too soon?" you finally managed to get out once the pair of you had calmed yourselves, earning a few dirty looks from other cafe goers on the tables around you at both of your boisterous outbursts.

"sí, for some, not for us." alexia assured as you both exchanged a shy smile, looking away from one another and taking a beat. "so maybe uh, friday? for dinner." alexia asked, clearing her throat as you nodded.

"sí, friday."

~

"-pink tía?" posie questioned, balanced on her knees as your arm lay in front of her like a canvas, none of her coloring books peaking her interest today and to save yourself a tantrum you'd just given in and offered your arm up as an alternative.

"mm pink is nice nena." you mumbled tiredly, having only just gotten home from work and hardly sleeping last night since posie had been wriggling and kicking until eventually she seemed to find comfort draped across your head, the hot evening air not helping.

you tried hard not to let it happen, but without meaning to and with the rhythmic humming of your niece paired with the scratchings of the marker against your arm and you must have dozed off.

a sharp knock at the door jolted you back awak, sitting up so fast you almost gave yourself whiplash, wincing at the sharp bolt of pain which shot through your neck as you did.

"mierda!" you cursed when you realised you were alone now, the three year old who had once been curled into your side nowhere to be seen as a few more loud knocks echoed through your apartment.

"posie? dónde estás? mariposa? posie!" you shouted, rushing through the house and sighing in relief when you finally found her in the kitchen, but that relief dissapeared and the air sucked from your lungs as if you'd been kicked in the chest by a horse.

"mariposa baja eso ahora mismo!" you shouted, sprinting over and scooping up your niece who somehow had wound up with a steak knife in hand, one of the drawers pulled out and cutlery scattered all over the floor.

she hadn't thought she was doing anything wrong but your stern reaction had the girls eyes welling up in tears and before you knew it she was full on sobbing as you carefully pried the knife from her hands, setting it down on the counter.

"hey hey hey no bebita do not cry! i am not mad at you promesa promesa. i am not mad at you, i love you posie. you just scared me a little that's all! siento haberte gritado." you cooed softly, stepping over the cuterly spill and bouncing her gently up and down on your hip, feeling her tears create a small wet patch on your shoulder.

a glance back had you wincing, you thought you'd done a good enough job at baby proofing since you made all the changes ana required but clearly you needed to make a further effort if a three year old could get a knife in her possession so easily.

the guilt of it all washed over you like a shower would, your eyes squeezed shut for a moment to stop the tears which threatened to leak out, inhaling sharply and composing yourself.

how could you be expected to calm a wailing three year old if you couldn't even keep it together?

but right as posie's sobs started to melt down into wet sniffles, there came the knocking again and off she went, causing you to wince and your blood to run hot as you continued to mumble gently to her, rubbing your hand up and down her back.

right as you touched the door handle the knocking sounded again but thankfully this time posie just continued to sniffle and you cringed at how much snot and tears were crusting on the collar of your shirt.

as you yanked the door open and began to speak someone beat you to it with a click of their tongue. "so you are alive? you can tell your ex that you are back but not even call me after i-" mapi's words fell short as she took you in, disheveled, half asleep and with a sniffling toddler on your hip.

"not a good time maría." you replied curtly as the shock was still engrained in her features you weren't even sure if she'd heard what you said, too fixated on posie who was hiding herself in your neck as you protectively shifted so she was as out of sight as possible.

you were overwhelmed, overstimulated and quite frankly as much as you held no ill will toward the spaniard hers was one of the last faces you wanted to see right now.

"but-but who is-where did-" mapi began to stammer, eyebrows furrowed together with confusion as you sighed, utterly exhausted despite the fact it was barely past midday.

"lo siento, i will call you." you softened your tone slightly but before the tattooed defender could utter another syllable you were closing the door again, back thumping against it as you exhaled slowly and shakily.

"ven aquí nena, let us get cleaned up eh?"

~

once you'd gotten posie cleaned up, calmed down and settled in front of one of her cartoons you could breathe again, smiling at the way her eyes drooped despite the fight she'd put up that she wasn't tired.

you let out a chuckle and swooped in to grab the little container of cut up peaches out of her hand as you watched her eyes close and her grip loosen, setting it on the coffee table and smoothing her hair out, pressing a tender kiss to her forehead and tucking her bear under her arm.

you'd sat her on the counter and as calmly as possible explained knife safety best you could to a three year old, who adorably had explained she was trying to make you a snack after your nap, just like you did for her.

once again you had to stop yourself from crying knowing that wasn't what your niece needed, instead wrapping her in a tight hug and murmuring how much you loved her, unable to tell the tiny human just how much you needed her as well.

with posie down for her afternoon nap and still under your now hawk eyed supervision it allowed you to flutter about tidying, determined to make a better impression on your ex girlfriend than when she'd last visited your home.

you cursed under your breath as you finished and checked the time, two and a half hours somehow flying past as you needed to get posie up as well as start dinner so it was mostly done by the time alexia was set to arrive.

only you knew the girl well enough that for alexia early was on time, on time was late and late was unforgivable.

so you weren't caught off guard at a knock at the door sounding twenty minutes early, already having seen her car park ten minutes prior and checking in amusement every few minutes to see if she'd left it yet.

a quick check in on posie and you found her on the floor of her room playing with a few of her stuffed animals, another check confirming there wasn't anything she could swallow, choke on or hurt herself with before you ducked out and headed for the door.

"hola." you greeted the girl with a smile, not missing the obvious nervous tension in her shoulders as she repeated the greeting and you stepped aside to let her in.

"it is uh, cleaner, than last time." you chuckled a little awkwardly, closing the door after her as she looked around. "don't do that, people live here, of course it will looked lived in." alexia assured with a nod as you squeezed her arm appreciatively, stepping past her as she slipped off her shoes.

"oh! for you." she seemed to remember her hands weren't empty, holding up a bottle of wine, the label sparking memories that hadn't hurtled to the surface in years, a laugh of surprise leaving your lips.

"i know it is cheap but-" "but it is my favorite. i have not seen it in years!" you grinned happily, alexia seeming a little relaxed now as her lips curled upward, clearly content with your reaction.

"tía?"

and just like that any and all sense of calm alexia once felt was sucked away in an instant, the tiny brunette peeking out of the bedroom looking her up and down as you moved to stand beside her.

"remember i said one of my friends was coming over for dinner posie? well, this is alexia." you squatted down, nodding encouragingly to your niece who curled herself into your side.

"oye who is this shy chica? where is my posie mm? mi pequeño parlanchín." you teased, poking your fingers into her side as she giggled and alexia suddenly felt her knees go weak at the sight, clearing her throat lightly trying to pull herself out of it.

"tía i'm here!" your niece squealed, wriggling out of your hold as you grinned and poked her a few more times until she looked up at alexia again and shuffled closer to you.

alexia suddenly realizing she was a lot taller than a three year old immediately squatted down to seem a little less intimidating as you flashed her a soft smile, whispering something to your niece who nodded.

you stood again and offered her your hand, her tiny fingers wrapping around yours as you lead her over to where alexia was. "me llamo mariposa." the small girl spoke shyly before ducking to hide behind your leg as alexia glanced up at you and you nodded encouragingly.

"encantada de conocerte mariposa, me llamo alexia." the footballer introduced herself softly, holding out a hand as you had to stifle your laughter at the sheer size difference between hers and your nieces as posie slowly shook her hand.

"did you know the name mariposa means butterfly?" alexia smiled as posie seemed to perk up a little more, stepping out properly from behind you.

"sí! i have butterfly wings, from abuela." posie nodded eagerly as alexia gasped. "muy chulo." the blonde smiled as posie seemed to regain her confidence. "i show you after dinner?" posie offered as alexia instantly agreed and your smile grew even wider watching their interactions.

your niece letting go of your hand stepped forward now with a slight frown, alexia tensing up again as a tiny finger traced her cheeks. "mami and papi's video." the three year old spoke as you now frowned, squatting down and gently pulling her hand away from where her fingers continued to prod softly at alexia's face.

"bebita we already watched mami and papi's video this morning before you went to abuelas, remember?" you started gently, knowing the topic was an incredibly touchy one as the small girl shook her head.

"see you, in mami and papi's video!" posie pointed to alexia and looked to you expectantly, but before you could say a word she was taking off, racing away as tiny footsteps thumped through the house.

you took off after her and alexia was quick to follow, finding her in the living room with the remote in hand which she shoved at you, babbling away to press play on the video and ignoring anything you said in response.

alexia stumbled a little as posie tugged on the hem of her shorts, clearly trying to drag the much taller girl toward the couch as she sat down, posie climbing herself up to join her as with a sigh you gave in and clicked play.

you took a seat on posie's other side and for the first few minutes the three of you sat in a somewhat uncomfortable silence, though right as you were ready to attempt to put your foot down and turn it back off, it happened.

"mira! mira, mira, mira! alexia!" your niece stood to her feet, clinging onto alexia's shirt to steady herself as she pointed to the tv and sure enough, there she was, and a tidal wave of emotions overcame you and suddenly it was as if you could still remember the very day.

"estás muy guapa." the brunette hummed in your ear as you returned from the dance floor, settling yourself down on her lap as her arms tightly encircled your waist.

"muy muy muy preciosa, mi preciosa novia." your girlfriend showered you with compliments as you leaned back into her, your head craning backwards to rest on her shoulder.

"deberías ver a mi novia." you smiled teasingly, the older girl leaning down to press her lips sweetly against yours. "mmm, i hope she can fight?" the footballer whispered mid kiss as you laughed, hands finding her cheeks and deepening it slightly.

you were both pulled from your little love bubble at the sound of wolf whistles, your very drunk sister waving at you from the dancefloor as her newly elected husband caught her before she fell, sending you a knowing wink as he whisked her away.

"do you want to get some air?" you asked, pushing back up off of alexia who nodded, joining you as you stood, her fingers interlocking with yours as the pair of you made small talk with a few people on your way out.

you exhaled into the crisp night air, closing your eyes and soaking in the fact the pair of you were finally alone, ears ringing from the sheer contrast of how quiet it was out here compared to how loud the music was thumping inside.

"this could be us one day cari." you were consumed by the scent of your girlfriends perfume, turning at the sound of her voice and moving to wrap your arms around her torso.

"too drunk to walk?" you teased with a grin, your sister having been far from sober out of nerves nearly all day, quite the anxious bride from the moment she'd been proposed to.

"tal vez, we could be married mi amor." alexia was too tipsy to notice the way your body tensed up in her arms, playing it off with a laugh and hoping she would change topics.

"is that something you want?" no such luck.

"i have had too much tequila mi amor, i think i want to go back to our room soon." you looked up with a smile, reaching up to push a loose strand of hair behind her ear and not missing the odd look which flashed across the older girls face.

but before she could say another word the two of you were once again pulled from your little bubble at the sound of loud retching, letting go of one another and spinning around.

"oh dios mío....is that my mami?" you groaned in realization at the woman hunched over, throwing her guts up into the flower beds. "who is holding her hair?" you questioned with a frown, squinting to try and work it out but your girlfriend clocked it first.

"dios mío i think that is my mami!"

"tía? tía?" you crashed back down to the ground as a hand touched your cheek, blinking a few times and meeting your nieces little gaze which looked up at you.

"mira! alexia." she tugged on the sleeve of your shirt, pointing to the tv where again there was another clip of a much younger alexia spinning you around on the dancefloor, a quick glance to your right showing the girl in question watching the tv avidly with an unreadable look on her face.

thankfully it seemed someone somewhere had your best intentions in mind as the oven pinged signalling the timer was done and you breathed a sigh of relief you hadn't realized you'd been holding in.

"vamos! time to eat."

you stood with a soft tender smile on your face as you packed up the leftovers from dinner, posie twirling around the living room after she'd made you and alexia push the couch and coffee table out of the way.

she had her little butterfly wings on and you had to stop yourself from laughing aloud at alexia's own wings, which were two little blobs of purple and orange vaguely resembling tacos which posie had drawn and insisted be taped to alexia's back.

you'd tried to talk her out of it but much of your sister was in her daughter, especially natalia’s often hard headed stubborn tendencies as of course alexia assured it was fine and you'd given in, somewhat relieved you’d manage to avoid any sort of meltdown or tantrum.

it seemed posie was trying to teach her a dance of some sort and you had to hide a snicker into your hand as the footballer awkwardly tried to copy her movements, rigid and stiff and you'd always teased her that she danced with two left feet.

placing the last container in the fridge you had to interrupt, a glance at your phone showing it was nearing posie's bedtime and she still hadn't even had a bath yet.

"vale! beautiful dancing chicas, but i think it is time for a certain little butterfly to have her bath." you smiled as alexia exhaled in relief, dropping her arms from the position posie had insisted they be in, rolling her shoulders with a slight wince as you bit your lip to hide your smile.

"five more." you felt a small body hurtle into your leg nearly knocking you down as you chuckled and brushed her flyaways away from her forehead which was prickled with sweat from her dancing.

"no nena, bath and bed, or else you will be a grumpy butterfly tomorrow." you honked her nose gently as the three year old huffed, scowling and making a point to stomp her tiny feet all the way to her bedroom.

alexia jumped hearing the door slam and you chuckled with a shake of her head. "who says it is only teenagers who have attitude? mentirosa." you tutted as alexia's face softened, a snicker sounding from you as she tried to awkwardly crane her arms to pull off the paper wings.

"aquí, date la vuelta." you nodded for her to turn around as you carefully peeled off the paper, brushing a few loose pieces of fluff off of alexia's t-shirt and tapping her shoulders gently to signal you were done.

"tía! stuck again!" you heard posie holler out from her room, alexia now the one to chuckle as you explained your niece had a habit of somehow winding up tangled in her clothes when left to pull them off of her body herself.

"i should go..." you trailed off and nodded behind you with a small smile. "i should go too." alexia was swift to reply as you swallowed your disappointment at her words.

"or i stay? help with the uh dishes and to move things back?" she quickly offered, rubbing the back of her neck with a signature awkward smile. "oh no you do not need to help with those!" you assured as posie yelled out for you again.

"but if you want to stay, i will not be long?" "bien, but i am doing the dishes." "do i have a choice?" you began to walk backwards with a smile as alexia grinned and shook her head.

"tía ayuda! stuck!"

[heavysighing-dreamyeyes]

A Glass City

Part Four of A Gilded Cage ~2k Words

You can't remember the last time you cried like this. The plush leather muffles your sobs, but it does nothing to loosen the tightness in your throat, to offer any relief from the reality of your situation.

You had been blind, entranced by the fact that Jason Todd was alive and filling your days with distractions that you had missed one simple truth. Jason Todd is the Arkham Knight, and you know nothing about what that's turned him into.

The cuff around your ankle weighs heavy, a cold, unyielding reminder to the fact that you're trapped. You've been trapped since he snatched you to that forsaken penthouse. It draws more tears from your eyes until you have none left to cry, leaving you a shaky, gasping mess of heartbreak and terror.

It's that very fear, the urge to get away, that drives you to mechanically push yourself up. Sobbing has left you feeling drained.

Your head hurts, every breath is a battle, and you have half a mind to blow your nose on the stupid throw pillow lying haphazardly on the couch. It's with shaky hands that you examine the golden chain securing you to the leg of the couch.

Despite its shiny, lavish appearance, it's well made. No amount of tugging seems to bend the metal, and the cuff latched around your ankle seems equally as sturdy. It's frustrating, and your fear starts to morph into anger with every pull of the chain.

It's humiliating. You doubt you could escape his base even if you had the opportunity to try, and the chain? It just feels like a twisted claim over you.

You rub hands down your face and towards your throat, exhaustion and fury warring in your mind as you try to calm yourself. The motion causes your nails to catch on the diamond choker. The collar.

Another way he tried to keep you. Disgust wells in your throat. How did it get this far? Where did you start to lose yourself? Start to lose him?

It's thoughtless, when you curl your fingers around the piece of jewelry and rip it from your throat, throwing it across the room and as far away from you as possible. You hope it's broken. Hope something in this room is more shattered than you.

You don't react to the knock on the door, but you do lift your head when it opens. There's a hiss, and you watch Bean dig his claws into Mack's arm before jumping to the ground and rushing to you.

Bean purrs as soon as he starts to nuzzle your ankles, and you almost want to cry all over again when you pick him up to clutch him to your chest.

"The boss wanted to make sure you got him," Mack grumbles, seemingly more interested in the diamonds scattered on the floor than the redness in your eyes.

"Where is he," You bite out, or try to bite out. Crying has made your voice raw and scratchy, but even if it hadn't, you doubt it would have threatened Mack anyway.

"Busy," he answers bluntly, "Need anything else?"

You stare him down sharply, Mack might not be your friend, but he has been guarding you for as long as you've been under Jason's thumb. If anything, he should at least show you some sympathy.

"The key for this," You huff out, lifting your leg to show off the chain, "And a phone." Bean meows, and you take it as agreement as you try to hide your jittery nerves. Mack finally meets your gaze, jaw clenching and unclenching as he studies your defiant gaze.

"I don't have the key," he says eventually, "and giving you a phone is asking for trouble."

You lift your chin, exuding confidence over the militia man you don't necessarily feel, "Aren't you supposed to give me what I want?"

Mack exhales softly, slowly, and you have a feeling being assigned to babysit you is not how he imagined taking over Gotham would be. He shoves his hand into his pocket, and tugs out what's clearly a cheap burner phone. He tosses it to you, doesn't even blink when you barely manage to catch it with one hand.

"Two minutes," he warns you as he steps out the door and nods towards the chain, "Just long enough for me to find something to pick that lock with, understand?"

You breathe out a thank you when he's already out the door. Huh. Maybe Mack does like you more than you thought. You file that away for later, putting Bean down in your lap as you carefully type out a number you've had memorized since the day Jason disappeared.

Nine digits. Your last lifeline. The clock tower. Babs.

The phone rings. And rings. You've nearly given up hope, your breathing getting shallower, more panicked, when the line finally connects.

"Oracle– don't hang up– please–" You start. You don't know what to say, you don't even know where you are, but she'll know what to do. She has to.

But it's not Oracle's familiar voice that comes over the phone. No. It's the sound of your name that cuts you off, said through the low, robotic modulator that lives in your dreams.

It makes your blood go cold. It's impossible. You dialed the right number– "How–" You choke out, defeat settling on your shoulders.

The Arkham Knight laughs, an easy, bored sound, "Oracle and I are having a reunion, sweet thing. I would have brought you if I thought you'd play nice."

"I wanna talk to her," you stumble out, eyes darting to Bean as he cuddles into your stomach, seemingly picking up on your anxiety.

"She's busy," he tells you lazily, and you hear the sound of something falling over in the background of the call, "Anything else?"

"I want to go outside–" You try instead, pulling whatever you can think of to hold his attention, to try and give Babs a chance. (If she's even still alive)

He hums like he has all the time in the world to draw the call out, "Mhm, now's a bad time to be out, doll. But you can walk around the base. Sound fair?"

"The chain," You force yourself to choke out instead, "I want it off. I can't– walk if it's on." Bean meows and licks your fingers, it almost steadies the beat of your heart.

He falls quiet for a moment, and the modulator sounds in your ear like he's letting out a sigh. "I shouldn't have– I wasn't trying to scare you earlier. You just needed to be safe."

Another crash sounds in the back of the call. "Someone will take it off," he says your name again, voice no longer the shadow of a laugh, "I need to go. Don't call this number again."

The line goes silent, and you realize you've accomplished nothing at all. Jason's either killed or kidnapped Barabra, and you're no closer to escaping than before.

It's almost terrifying. Jason– The Arkham Knight– is capable of winning whatever war he's waging. He is winning the battles he's picked. And you don't know where that'll leave Gotham, where it'll leave you.

You're still staring blankly at the phone when Mack returns. Neither of you says anything as he crouches at your side and works on the cuff around your ankle. It doesn't take long, but when the golden metal hits the ground, you don't feel any lighter. Jason can win, has planned to win, and everyone will suffer for it.

Mack straightens himself out, and carefully takes the phone from your hand, "C'mon. I'll give you the tour."

"Why," You ask quietly, and lift Bean to cuddle him close to your chest, "Why are you bothering?"

Mack shrugs like it's obvious, "It's part of the job." He doesn't elaborate, and you don't ask for the truth, as you push yourself to your feet to follow him out the door.

Mack leads you down a hall, and when it opens up to what seems to be a hanger, you're left in awe. Now that you're not lost in your own panic, you can see just how impressive the base is. Rows of drones, trucks and tanks, groups of soldiers, and helicopters take up the massive space.

It makes it clear how much of an operation this is, how much Jason has prepared for this night. It nearly takes your breath away. How can anyone go up against him? How could the city survive this? How could you even dream of getting away?

A couple of the men look your way, but they're quick to avert their gaze when Mack levels them with a look. Bean seems just as enthralled with the scenery, and he crawls his way up your arm to sit on your shoulder.

You settle on the sight of crates and crates of weapons, "Can I get a closer look?"

"At the guns," Mack asks, tilting his head at you. He gives you a look like he's picking apart your entire plan when you nod. (Which you find funny, because you don't exactly have a plan yet.)

"There's a range we can use," he relents, leading you away from the hanger and deeper into the base. You're not sure if he's doing this because he feels bad for you, or if you really can get away with whatever you want. But it's hardly the time to complain about his easy compliance.

The range he takes you to is nice. At least you think it is, it's not exactly your area of expertise. There's a skylight, some targets, and more weapons than you've ever seen in one place. You feel like maybe grenades shouldn't be among the choices, but Mack doesn't say anything as you look over each option.

Bean nuzzles your ear as you trace your fingers over what looks like a rocket launcher. You're scrambling a little. This could be your only chance to get away, and you don't have a clue what to do.

Grab a gun and threaten your way out with a kitten on your shoulder? Shoot out a window and hope for the best when you try to run? Try and knock out Mack and pray no one notices you when you try to sneak out?

You're so lost in your thoughts that you don't notice the shadow that falls over the skylight. But you do notice when glass shatters down a few feet from where you're standing. And you definitely notice Nightwing dropping down to hit Mack in the back of the head.

Nightwing smiles at you, a pleased, proud sort of thing, and you stumble towards him like he's your last lifeline.

"Orcale is–" You begin, needing to share what The Arkham Knight has done, even if you aren't sure what's happened.

Nightwings smile falls, and he nods, outstretching his hand to you, "I know. Let's get you out of here."

"You know," you ask, voice going weak as you tuck Bean against your chest. It makes sense that he does, but your nerves feel like they're on fire, and you half expect Jason to appear from nowhere to drag you back to that chain.

Nightwing nods, voice soothing, "I know," he tells you, carefully pulling you to his side to shoot a grappling hook through the broken skylight.

Your feet hit the rooftop, but even still, it feels like you're flying. The air is cold, and Gotham is silent and screaming all at once. But you're free.

There's no Jason charging at you, no glittering collar around your neck. Just you, Bean, and the vigilante leading you towards safety.

"Where are we going," You breathe out, disbelief clear in your voice.

"There's– somewhere safe," he murmurs, guiding you through the shadows, "Robin's going to look after you."

"Oh," You mumble, following him step for step until he's helping you onto a motorcycle.

Helicopter blades sound in the air, as you hook your arms around Nightwings back. There's gunshots somewhere in the distance and muffled shouts lost to the wind.

You don't look back, you don't dare to, but it doesn't stop the chills that run down your spine as the bikes engine rev. It doesn't stop the feeling that if you did look back, you'd see The Arkham Knight and his heavy gaze digging into your soul.

[sanemistar]

TAKE ME BACK

contents ★ ex!geto x fem!reader, angst to fluff, exes then back to lovers, slightly ooc geto (?), 1.2k+ wc. requested for my milestone event. author's message ★ trying a new layout for this one :3 i honestly love this color combo plus these are my favorite colors ever <333

event m.list ★ jjk m.list

seeing your ex boyfriend suguru for the first time after the breakup left you with mixed feelings of both familiarity and unfamiliarity. in terms of appearance, he hadn’t really changed. he looked pretty much the same way as you left him except his jet black hair had gotten longer. however, something about his aura had changed. you weren’t exactly sure what it was, you just had a feeling that it wasn’t the same as before, it was a tad bit softer, more gentle, and it made you feel as if you were being in the presence of a completely different person.

tension began to rise as awkward silence filled the atmosphere around you. it was excruciating and you had a hard time breathing, your heart clenched painfully. you were anxious and nervous.

yet despite all that, deep down inside your heart was a part of you that wanted to see suguru again, which grew bigger when it actually happened, you were quite happy to see him again after all that time.

if you were being completely honest, you had never been able to move on from him. so in other words, you still had feelings for him. and if he ever asked you to get back together, you would do it in a heartbeat without a single hint of hesitation.

you knew he wouldn’t though, and these were only wishful thoughts on your part. because you were pretty sure things between you and him had ended once and for good that day. showing no signs of a reconciliation.

“you haven’t changed at all.” your eyes widened slightly, it was as if he was reading your mind. was it some sort of telepathy or something? you didn’t know. his voice pierced through your ears, and it got you thinking that his tone hadn’t changed in the slightest. his voice was still as soft as it could be.

“you too, sug—geto.” you almost called him by the nickname you gave him back when he was your boyfriend, but quickly realized and changed to his last name. however, it didn’t feel right to you. it felt so forced, simply because his nickname used to roll off your lips ever so effortlessly, your tongue was so used to the sound of ‘sugu’ as it rolled out naturally. so when you forced it to say his last name instead, it came off weird.

suguru chuckled, a somewhat sad smile made its way onto his face upon hearing his last name rolling over your lips. the sound of it felt foreign to his ears as it reminded him that you two weren’t in the kind of relationship that allowed you to be on a nickname basis anymore. it hurt him, and it hurt him deep.

because truth be told, he too, still loved you. he tried his hardest to move on with his life, he went out with many girls, and he even went as far as to sleep with them in desperate attempts to forget all about you as if he’d never met you. but to his misfortune, his attempts never worked out. you were simply unforgettable to him, he could never erase you from his heart even if he wanted to.

he had left his heart with you on the day you called it quits, and couldn’t manage to get it back to give it to someone else.

you felt as if time was frozen, and you were stuck in yet another prolonged moment of silence. with just you and suguru together, no one else.

your mind was constantly telling you to run away, to not look back and leave him behind. that you were better off without him. but your emotions took control over your actions as your heart refused to let your body move, and you remained still in your spot.

“i can’t believe i let you go,” suguru spoke for the first time in what seemed like forever, breaking that thick layer of silence. “i was such a fool, wasn’t i?”

his regretful tone caught you by surprise, you couldn’t believe that it was possible for suguru to regret a decision he made. yet there he was, spilling out his regrets in front of you.

you slowly parted your lips open, thinking of what to say back to him.

“isn’t it a little too late for that?”

that wasn’t what you wanted to say, you wanted to say that you missed him, that you still loved him, that you wanted to get back together with him.

but your mind was too quick to react. you wished you could take back what you said, but it was too late for that.

“maybe… but if i’m being honest with myself, i still love you. actually, i don’t think i’ve ever stopped loving you once.” you watched suguru admit that he still had feelings for you in utter disbelief. it was the last thing you expected to hear from him. how he looked at you while he was talking and how earnest he sounded were enough proof that he was being sincere and genuine, he meant every single word he said.

suguru on the other hand, felt some sort of relief washing over him after finally letting his suppressed feelings for you out of his chest. he didn’t know if he would ever get another chance to see you again, so he was more than determined to win you back. it wasn’t guaranteed that you would allow him in your life once again, but he was still willing to give it his all.

“so please just,” he paused momentarily, taking a deep breath before proceeding. “take me back to you.” it sounded as if he was pleading, perhaps he was indeed pleading. he was just desperate at that point as this was his last resort. but he didn’t care if he seemed desperate, he was able to put his pride aside and show you his weak side. to suguru, if showing his vulnerability to you was the price he had to pay for him to get you back, then so be it.

“you idiot, of course i’d take you back. i wouldn’t want to be with anyone who wasn’t you, i will always love you.”

that sole sentence was enough to bring you to tears because of how moving it was. you immediately run towards him and throw yourself in his arms as you wrapped your arms tightly around him as you bury your face in the crook of his neck, holding onto him for dear life. his body slightly flinched under your touch, but quickly reacted as his strong arms pulled you closer to him. your bodies were so close that you could feel the warmth of one another.

“welcome back, sugu.” you said in between your sobbing, finally allowing his name roll off your lips ever so easily. he smiled upon hearing his nickname being said as he gave the top of your head a series of small, tender pecks.

“yeah, i’m back home.” he hummed softly against your ear.

suguru had been lost for so long, but at last he was finally back to where he belonged, to you, his home.

𝜗𝜚 taglist: @unriding @lxnarphase @sylusdoll @itachiiwrites @itoshivy @17020 @creamflix @luv-lies @suguru-getos ( @gothsuguru + @hiraethwrote special tags for you my loves since you asked me about it )

[focusonkayjay]

between the ride and the roses (6)

Pairing: Jungkook x (f.) Reader

Genre/Tags: biker/ motorcycle shop owner! jungkook x flower shop owner! reader, enemies to lovers, opposites attract, slow burn, angst, smut, fluff

Word count: 4.8k

Series summary: There's an insane turn of events when your calm and peaceful life is intruded by Jungkook, a biker boy who sets up his loud business right next to your own. Your paths cross under unlikely circumstances, starting with a clash of personalities but gradually you find yourself establishing a deeper connection with the annoyingly attractive biker jerk. You both have no idea what's in store for you guys as you try your best to put up with each other.

Chapter Warnings: mature language, mention of injuries and wounds.

A/N: thinking of uploading another story soon and simultaneously updating it with this story. anyways, let me know how this part was <333

part 6: bruises before the blossom

The harsh buzz of the alarm pierces through the silence, dragging Jungkook from a restless, fitful sleep. His head throbs, heavy from the lack of rest, his body aching from tossing and turning all night. The bed feels too cold, too empty, and it’s a reminder of just how miserable he feels.

Even in his sleep, his mind never truly let him escape the images of you... the sound of your voice cracking with anger, the hurt in your eyes, and the way you turned away from him.

He drags himself out of bed, a sigh slipping from his lips as he rubs at his eyes. The entire day ahead seems like a mountain he’s not sure he’s capable of climbing. He’s still trapped in the mess he made.

There’s a weight pressing down on his chest that doesn’t ease, not even when he tries to focus on the simple motions of getting ready. His mind keeps replaying the argument, each harsh word, each painful silence, and his stomach churns with guilt.

The ride to his shop is cold, the morning breeze biting through his jacket. As he rides, all Jungkook can do is replay the mess he’s made in his mind, searching for a way to fix the chaos he’s so recklessly caused.

The hum of the shop’s overhead lights and the scent of motor oil mixed with leather greet Jungkook as he steps into his motorcycle shop, the familiar setting providing a small sense of comfort amidst the chaos inside his mind.

It’s early, and the place is quiet except for the occasional clinking of tools or the sound of an engine being worked on in the back. He takes a deep breath, trying to steady himself, but it doesn’t help. The weight of yesterday still hangs over him like a dark cloud.

Yoongi’s already there, sipping coffee at the counter, his eyes flicking up when he hears the door open. He raises an eyebrow at Jungkook’s disheveled appearance and his tired eyes. He doesn’t need to ask if something's wrong.... it’s so obvious.

“Wow, you look like shit.” Yoongi comments dryly, leaning back in his seat, the mug still in his hands.

Jungkook drops his bag onto the counter with a heavy sigh. He doesn’t even respond right away, simply running a hand over his face in frustration. The guilt is eating him alive, gnawing at the edges of his every thought.

Jungkook remains silent, pulling up a stool and sitting down beside Yoongi. He leans forward, elbows on the counter, his gaze unfocused. “I screwed up, hyung. I fucking... I fucking messed up.” he starts.

Yoongi furrows his brows, not quite sure where this was coming from but he watches Jungkook carefully for a moment, before placing his mug down and crossing his arms. “What happened?” he questions.

Jungkook swallows hard. “We… we had a fight. Last night... me and Y/n... And... and I...” He pauses, grimacing at the memory of how he’d snapped, how everything spiraled out of control. “

"I didn’t listen. I said things I shouldn’t have, Hyung. Hurtful things. And the worst part, we weren't even alone. People were watching...And now… now I can’t stop thinking about it. The way she looked at me when she walked out…” His voice falters, a knot tightening in his throat. “I don’t know how to fix it.”

Yoongi’s expression hardens slightly, the disappointment clear in his eyes. “You messed up that bad, huh?”

Jungkook nods slowly, his hands trembling slightly as he grips the edge of the counter. “I don’t even know why I acted like that. I just... got so caught up in my own head, I didn’t even think about how she was feeling. And now… she’s pissed. Probably doesn’t want to see me... ever.”

Yoongi exhales sharply, rubbing his temples. “Listen, Kook… sometimes you really act like a damn idiot. But come on... you know better than this. She didn’t deserve that. I don’t care how stressed you were, how tired you were… there’s absolutely no excuse for treating anyone like that, especially her.”

Jungkook flinches at the words, but he can’t deny the truth in them. Yoongi’s never been one to sugarcoat things, and right now, his bluntness is exactly what Jungkook needs to hear.

“I know...” Jungkook mutters, his voice barely above a whisper. “I really know. I just… I don’t know what to do next. How do I fix this?”

Yoongi lets out a long, resigned sigh. "I know I helped you out last time, but this time… I’m afraid you’re on your own, Kook. You’ve got to figure this out yourself." He shrugs, not sparing the younger man a single glance.

Even though his words sting, Jungkook knows Yoongi’s right. This time, he has to take responsibility for his actions and find a way to make it right on his own.

The morning stretches on, but Jungkook’s mind is stuck in an endless loop, the weight of his actions from the previous night pressing down on him with an unrelenting heaviness. He keeps glancing over at your shop, the stillness of the street on your side, unsettling, your shop’s "Close" sign glaring in the quiet morning light.

Something’s not right. You’re never late to open. His thoughts spiral, consumed by guilt. Did his words hurt you so much that you’d decided to close for the day? The weight of the uncertainty gnaws at him, each minute dragging him deeper into the pit of regret.

As the clock ticks on and the day wears into afternoon, Jimin and Hoseok finally arrive at the shop, both as lively as always, their energy contrasting sharply with Jungkook’s clouded mood.

They step inside, their footsteps echoing on the concrete floor, but they immediately halt when they see his expression... dark circles under his eyes, shoulders hunched, and the tightness of his jaw.

Jimin raises an eyebrow, crossing his arms as he watches Jungkook. “What happened to you? You look like you haven’t slept in days.”

Hoseok, ever the teasing one, chuckles as he makes his way to the counter, but the moment he catches a glimpse of Jungkook’s face, the humor fades. “Man, what’s with the face? You look like a kicked puppy.” he worries.

Jungkook’s eyes flicker up to meet theirs for a moment before they quickly drop again. His heart is too heavy to lift his head properly, too consumed by the thought of you. He can barely form the words, his chest tight with an overwhelming sense of guilt.

Finally, he exhales a breath he didn’t realize he was holding and sinks onto the stool, running a hand through his messy hair.

“Y/N’s not opening her shop today...” he mutters. Jimin raises both eyebrows, the concern immediately evident on his face. “And that’s got you looking like you’re about to collapse?” he questions.

Jungkook nods, his voice strained as he continues. “I… I messed up last night. Badly. I...” His voice pauses as he struggles to form the words, the guilt threatening to choke him. “I hurt her. I said things I shouldn’t have. And now… she’s not even opening her shop. I think… I think I pushed her too far.”

Hoseok steps forward, his expression hardening as he leans against the counter, crossing his arms. “You hurt her? How? What did you do?”

Jungkook’s eyes are glassy, filled with regret. He hesitates, his mind racing back to the argument, to the harsh words he’d thrown at you in the heat of the moment. He swallows hard, before narrating the entire incident from last night.

Both Hoseok and Jimin listen to him intently and Jungkook can't seem to ignore the disappointed look on their faces.

Hoseok, places a hand on Jungkook’s shoulder. “You can’t undo what’s been said, but you can make things right. It’s not going to be easy, but you need to give her space. Let her process everything. Don’t push her.” he says.

Jungkook nods slowly, his throat tight. All he can do for now is just wait and see when he's about to be gifted the opportunity to talk to you again and set things right.

//

You pull the blanket tighter around you, cocooning yourself against the world as you lie in bed. The echoes of last night’s argument reverberate in your mind, pressing down like an unbearable weight. It’s not the anger that lingers... it’s the shame.

The shame of losing control, of letting your emotions boil over in front of him. You hadn’t meant for him to see that part of you... the part you keep carefully hidden, locked away behind walls you’ve spent years building. Now, the memory of it stings, and the question gnaws at you: Will he ever see me the same way again?

Today was supposed to be a normal day. You’d planned to open the shop, lose yourself in the routine of arranging flowers and greeting customers. But the idea of facing the world... facing him...feels unconquerable.

So you stayed in bed, letting time slip by as guilt and self-doubt festered. The shop, your sanctuary of independence, momentarily feels like a burden, a tether pulling you towards a confrontation you’re not ready for.

Your thoughts churn, trying to make sense of everything. The tears, the words you shouted in the heat of the moment... they feel too raw, too exposed. You wish you could take them back, even as a part of you knows they needed to be said. But guilt has a way of distorting things, making you second-guess what was right, what was wrong, and what was simply human.

As the sun dips lower in the sky, Taehyung and Juwon show up, their familiar faces offering a much needed reprieve. They find you exactly where they probably expected... in bed, unmoving, staring blankly at the ceiling.

Taehyung doesn’t ask questions, he simply sits beside you, his hand warm and steady as it rests on your arm. Juwon mirrors his quiet support, settling on your other side, their presence wrapping around you like a shield against your own thoughts.

They don’t press you for answers or force you to recount the night. Instead, they coax you out of bed with gentle persistence, presenting the takeout they’ve brought like a peace offering. Though you can’t bring yourself to talk about the turmoil brewing inside, the quiet comfort of their company begins to lighten the heaviness in your chest.

Taehyung eventually puts on a movie, something lighthearted and familiar. As the scenes play out on the screen, you find your mind wandering to tomorrow.

Closing the shop today might have been necessary, but you can’t keep hiding. There’s a business to run, responsibilities to shoulder... even if the thought of seeing Jungkook again ties your stomach in knots.

The anger is still there, simmering just beneath the surface. What he said, what he did... it wasn’t excusable. But a small, stubborn part of you wants to hear his side, to understand why. Will you ask him? Probably not. Not yet.

For now, all you can focus on is how to avoid him tomorrow, how to navigate the day without letting his presence unravel you all over again.

//

A week passes, and you’ve become somewhat of a pro at ignoring Jungkook. Each time he walks past the shop or lingers in the vicinity, you manage to find something else to focus on, your eyes never straying in his direction.

He doesn’t approach you either, which you figure is his way of giving you space. Though you wouldn’t admit it out loud, you’re grateful for the unspoken truce.

The planning meetings for the town fair have stalled, but you push the thought aside, convincing yourself it’s not worth worrying about right now.

It’s Friday evening, and the shop feels unusually quiet. Taehyung had called earlier, practically buzzing with excitement. He’s sold one of his paintings to a famous singer who not only bought the piece but also promoted it on social media. The result?

Tae's art business exploded overnight. To celebrate, he invited you and the rest of the group to a jazz club, and there’s no way you’re missing it.

You decide to close the shop early, flipping the sign on the door with a small thrill of rebellion. The usual routine of tending to customers and tidying up can wait until tomorrow. Tonight, you’re determined to let loose.

You brought your outfit with you earlier, knowing you wouldn’t have the time to go all the way back home, just to change and get ready. You head into the storeroom, a quiet hum of anticipation filling the air as you change out of the clothes you're wearing.

The dress you’ve chosen is simple yet striking, a dark, elegant number that hugs your figure perfectly. You smooth it down, catching glimpses of yourself in the small, dusty mirror propped in the corner. It’s not ideal, but it’ll do.

Once dressed, you grab your makeup bag and head to the washroom to finish getting ready. The harsh fluorescent lights are far from flattering, but you lean close to the mirror, carefully applying your eyeliner and adding a touch of highlighter to your cheekbones.

When you finally step back to take in the full picture, you pause, a small smile tugging at your lips. You look... radiant. The shadows that have clung to you all week seem to lift, and for the first time in days, you feel more like yourself. The heaviness that’s been following you takes a backseat, and you let the excitement of the evening take its place.

With one last swipe of lipstick, you grab your clutch and flick off the washroom light. Stepping back into the shop, you take a moment to glance around before locking the door behind you.

The cool evening air greets you as you step outside, a soft breeze carrying the promise of a night to remember. For the first time in what feels like forever, you allow yourself to look forward to something other than your next obligation.

Tonight, it’s about celebrating Taehyung and, for just a little while, forgetting everything else.

Once you lock the door behind you, you’re ready to leave the day behind and immerse yourself in the celebration waiting for you. But just as you turn to head down the street, you stop in your tracks.

Sitting on the curb a few feet away is a figure so familiar, your heart recognizes him before your eyes fully process it.

Even with his face tilted downward, you know it’s Jungkook. His dark hair falls in loose strands over his forehead, and the slump of his shoulders speaks of exhaustion. He’s completely still, almost like he’s waiting for something... or someone. The sight makes you pause, confusion flickering across your face. What is he doing here, sitting outside on the curb, right outside his shop?

You take a hesitant step closer, the sharp click of your red pumps breaking the silence. The sound alerts him, because his head lifts slowly, and suddenly, his gaze meets yours.

In that instant, it feels like time itself stops. His dark, expressive eyes hold yours, and for a moment, the weight of the world seems to fall away. It’s the first time in what feels like an eternity that you’re truly seeing each other.

You take a sharp breath as your eyes scan his face, and what you see makes your stomach twist. A nasty bruise blooms across his forehead, his split lip is still raw, and the faint trace of dried blood lingers at the corner of his mouth.

He looks like he’s just come out of a fight. Panic rises in your chest, questions swirling in your mind. What happened to him? Who did this? And why is he sitting on the curb like this? You remember he was like this the other night too... the night he snapped at you, the night you snapped at him.

While your mind races, Jungkook sits frozen, too stunned to speak. He’s captivated, his eyes drinking in every detail of you like it’s the first time he’s truly seeing you. Your long hair cascades freely down your back, glossy and catching the faint glow of the streetlights.

The sleeveless cherry red satin dress hugs your curves with a perfect balance of elegance and allure, the thigh-high slit teasingly revealing the smooth length of your leg with every subtle shift of your body.

He can’t stop staring, his eyes tracing the curve of your shoulders, the way your dress glides effortlessly with your movements, and how your red pumps seem like they were made just for this moment. You look breathtaking. Ethereal. He almost forgets the pain in his body, too lost in the sight of you.

“You look…” he begins, but his voice falters. Words seem inadequate for what he wants to say. His throat tightens as he tries again, but nothing comes out. His eyes do all the speaking for him, wide and reverent, as if he’s looking at something impossibly beautiful.

Your heart hammers in your chest, torn between the storm of emotions his presence stirs and the worry that knots your stomach at the sight of his injuries. “Jungkook…” you whisper, your voice soft but tinged with concern. “What happened to you?” you question softly.

He doesn’t answer right away, his gaze still fixed on you, as though he’s afraid to look away and break whatever fragile spell this moment holds. But you don’t miss the faint twitch of his lips, like he wants to say something but can’t.

The silence stretches between you, charged and heavy, until finally, you take another step closer, your concern overpowering your hesitation. “Jungkook...” you say again, firmer this time. “Are you okay? What happened?”

Unable to hold yourself back any longer, you step towards him, your heels clicking softly against the pavement. Without a second thought, you crouch down beside him and gently place a hand on his arm, your fingers curling against the fabric of his jacket.

“Come on.” you murmur softly, your worry overpowering the tension that had hung between you for the past week. Jungkook stiffens slightly at your touch, caught completely off guard. He hadn’t expected you to come near him, let alone help him.

But before he can process it, he’s distracted by something entirely different... your scent. It envelops him, warm and sweet, with a faint floral hint that makes his head swim. It’s intoxicating, like you’re some kind of drug, and for a brief moment, he forgets the sting of his bruises.

You carefully pull him up, his weight leaning against you as he stumbles slightly. “Let’s get you inside.” you say, your tone leaving no room for argument. He doesn’t protest, letting you guide him towards the entrance of his shop. With one arm wrapped around his waist for support, you open the door and step inside, the small chime above the entrance ringing softly in the quiet.

It’s your first time in Jungkook’s shop, and as you help him inside, your eyes instinctively wander. The space feels intimate, yet rugged, filled with the unmistakable smell of motor oil and leather. Rows of polished helmets and sleek motorcycle parts line the shelves, glinting under the dim, warm lights.

A large workbench sits towards the back, cluttered with tools and blueprints, while a sleek black motorcycle stands proudly in the center of the room, gleaming like it’s just been polished.

For a moment, you’re almost in awe. You’ve passed by his shop countless times, but stepping inside feels like stepping into a part of him you’ve never seen before. Each detail seems to hold a piece of Jungkook... his precision, his passion, his identity.

But while you’re busy taking in the space, Jungkook is busy watching you. He leans slightly against you, his gaze fixed on your face, illuminated softly by the warm light.

The way your eyes dart around, curious and intrigued, makes something stir in his chest. Even now, with everything that’s happened, he can’t believe how stunning you look and how easily you take his breath away.

Finally, you spot a counter against the wall, and with a quiet urgency, you guide him to it. “Sit here.” you say, your voice firm but gentle. He lowers himself onto the stool with a wince, and you step back slightly, taking a proper look at him.

His face is a mess of bruises, and his split lip looks worse under the harsh lighting. The sight makes your chest tighten with worry.

“Look at you...” you murmur, shaking your head. “You’re hurt.” In that moment, it’s as though all the unresolved tension, the arguments, and the awkward silences are erased. The only thing that matters is him and the pain he’s in.

“Where’s the first aid kit?” you ask, your voice steady but laced with concern. Jungkook hesitates for a second, his eyes still glued to you. It’s impossible for him to look away... the way the soft red of your dress clings to you, the shine in your hair, the way you’re moving with such care for him...it’s overwhelming.

Finally, he clears his throat and gestures toward a cabinet near the workbench. “Over there.” he manages to answer, his voice hoarse. You move quickly, locating the box and pulling it out with purpose.

Taehyung’s jazz party, your plans for the night, everything fades from your mind as you return to Jungkook’s side. Setting the first aid kit on the counter, you pull out antiseptic wipes and gauze, ready to tend to his wounds.

As you gently dab at the cut on his lip, he flinches slightly, but he doesn’t pull away. Instead, he watches you intently, his gaze softening with every careful motion you make. The way you focus on him, your brows furrowed in concentration, makes his heart ache in a way that has nothing to do with his injuries.

“Why didn’t you take care of this sooner?” you ask quietly, breaking the silence as you work. You don’t look at him, your focus entirely on cleaning the dried blood from his forehead, but your tone carries a mix of frustration and worry. “You shouldn’t be walking around like this.” you add.

Jungkook doesn’t answer immediately. Instead, his lips twitch into a faint, rueful smile. “Didn’t think it mattered.” he mutters, his voice barely audible. You pause at that, your hand stilling for a moment before you continue. “Of course it matters.” you say firmly, your tone soft but resolute. “You matter.”

The words hang in the air between you, heavy with unspoken emotion. And for the first time in what feels like forever, Jungkook feels something warm begin to thaw the cold wall between you.

You want to ask him what happened... why he’s in this state, all battered and bruised, like a fragment of some untold story. But the words falter before they can leave your lips. There’s a hesitation you can’t shake, a fear that prying might break whatever fragile tether still holds the two of you together.

So instead, you focus on the tangible, the here and now, pouring your attention into tending to his wounds while your questions remain locked inside.

For Jungkook, the proximity is intoxicating. Your scent is subtle but distinct, wrapping around him like an embrace, a drug he knows he shouldn’t crave but can’t resist. Every small movement you make draws him in deeper.

The way your long hair cascades over one shoulder, framing your face, the delicate piece of jewelry resting at the hollow of your throat, catching the faint light like a whispered secret. You look like something out of a dream, and he wonders, for the briefest of moments, if this is some cruel trick his mind is playing on him.

“Why are you all dressed up?” The words escape him before he can think them through, his voice low, almost reverent.

You glance at him, your fingers pausing for just a second before resuming their careful work on his bruised knuckles. “My friends and i are going to a Jazz club. Just a small celebration.” There’s no irritation in your tone, no sign that his question was unwelcome. Just calm sincerity, as if speaking to him like this is the most natural thing in the world.

The weight of guilt suddenly bears down on him, sharp and unrelenting. “I’m ruining your plans.” he murmurs, his eyes dropping to the floor, his voice tinged with regret.

You shake your head, an easy, unthinking gesture. “You’re not.” you reply softly. “There’s still time.” The simplicity of your words only deepens the ache inside him. How can you be this kind, this patient, after everything? The warmth of your presence, the gentle tone of your voice... it’s disarming, unraveling the careful composure he’s trying so hard to maintain.

As you place the last bandage on his forehead, smoothing it down with a tender precision, he can’t help but watch you. Every detail, every gesture, is etched into his memory like a masterpiece he’ll never get tired of admiring. And then, as you pull back, your hands brushing against his ever so slightly, something in him snaps.

Before he realizes what he’s doing, his hand finds your waist, pulling you closer with a delicate urgency. The motion is fluid, instinctive, and you freeze, startled by the suddenness of it all. Your heart skips a beat, your breath hitching as you find yourself standing between his legs, your hands bracing against his shoulders for balance. His touch is firm but hesitant, as if he’s afraid you’ll pull away.

“Jungkook…” you whisper, your voice fragile, barely audible.

He wants to speak, to apologize, to address the distance that’s grown between you, but the words just won’t come out. He’s too distracted by the feel of you so close, by the way your wide eyes meet his with a mix of surprise and something else, something he can't really read.

He opens his mouth to speak, to apologize, to say something... anything... but the words die before they can form. Instead, his gaze drops to your lips, the space between you charged with an intensity neither of you can ignore.

He drinks in the sight of you... the soft sheen of your skin, the way your breath hitches ever so slightly. He’s utterly lost, caught in the gravity of this moment, and he doesn’t want to be found.

You, too, are caught in the pull, your thoughts hazy and disjointed. Your eyes trace the curve of his lips, lingering on the slight swelling from his injury, and before you know it, you’re leaning in. The distance between you seems to disappear on its own, like some invisible force is drawing you together.

Jungkook’s heart is pounding, his hand tightening ever so slightly on your waist. His mind is a whirlwind, and yet, everything feels perfectly still. This is it, he thinks. This is the moment where everything changes. He’s so close now, his lips hovering just a breath away from yours, and he swears he can feel the faintest ghost of a connection with you.

But then, like a cruel twist of fate, your phone rings. The sound is loud, jarring, shattering the fragile bubble that had enveloped you both.

You jolt, startled as you harshly step back, breaking the connection. Your cheeks flush as you fumble for your phone from your clutch that was placed on the counter, the spell broken but the aftereffects still lingering. “Sorry,” you mumble, your voice shaky as you glance at the screen. It’s Seokjin. Of course, it’s Seokjin.

“Where are you?” his familiar voice, laced with concern comes through the line once you answer.

“I... uh...I’m on my way,” you stammer, trying to steady your voice. “I’ll... I'll be there... I'll be there soon.” You hang up quickly, your hands trembling as you slide your phone back into your clutch. Turning back to Jungkook, you open your mouth to say something, but the words won’t come. Instead, you hold your clutch close, your movements rushed and uncertain.

“I...ummm...I have...I have to go,” you finally manage to say, your voice barely above a whisper. Without waiting for a response, you turn and run for the door as your heels click against the floor while your heart pounds against your chest, your mind trying to process what just happened.

Jungkook doesn’t stop you. He stays where he is, leaning against the counter, his hand still tingling from where it had rested on your waist. A faint smile tugs at his lips, bittersweet and filled with longing. He can still feel the warmth of your presence, still smell the faint traces of your perfume lingering in the air.

His heart is a riot in his chest, his mind replaying the moment over and over like a movie he can’t turn off. He tries to calm himself down and to make sense of it all, but one thought keeps cutting through the haze. You were there, with him.

And even if it was for a fleeting moment, everything....everything felt right.

taglist: @kimyishin @ghijkd @dolligguk @mimi1097 @jksusawife @yooforeaa @abbie1847 @myjungkookthighs @thesarcasmqueen-22 @fairypjminie @lovelytaes-blog @jjeonjjk7 @daddyjeonnn @vantelover1306 @jeeykey (if i missed someone, pls lmk !!)

<- part 5 // part 7(coming soon)->

series masterlist

[fushiguruuzzzz]

xvii  ⊹ ࣪ ˖  Party Anthem

Series mlist 

Tags — mentions of alcohol, possibly offensive humour (yk this by now), don’t get angry at me pls. 

Words — 1.2k 

Night had long set in over the horizon, and the frat was oddly hot for such a cool November evening. It was muggy and reeking of cheap alcohol, something everyone had grown desensitized to after ingesting some of it themselves. 

One minute you were sprawled out over a couch, mindlessly chattering away with your group of friends. The next moment, you spotted Nobara in the heaps of people and decided it would be a great idea to dance. Your body swayed side to side, an orange head of hair bobbing around at your side. She was clearly wasted by now, an arm wrapped around your shoulders as she tried and failed to sing along to whatever 2000’s pop song played through the speakers. You could feel people around you stumbling, bumping into you so often it was almost rhythmic. 

You couldn’t even bring yourself to feel uncomfortable. This wasn’t exactly your scene, but anything that was vibrant enough to distract you was better than… whatever you were doing before. 

He was here. You could feel it in your bones, the way your heartstrings tugged like they were being toyed with by a puppeteer. With every reminder of him came another shot, the bitter alcohol pouring down your throat. Your head had begun to feel fuzzy long ago, tv static seeming to be on repeat in the depths of your mind. It wasn’t enough. Nothing was enough to erase him. And somehow, the alcohol only heightened your ability to dwell. 

You just wanted to know why. Was that so much to ask? To wonder why he was so normal, and then so… soft, and then suddenly he was nothing at all? Nothing but curses and anger and awkwardness? You knew you hadn’t done anything, but it was the only reason you could conjure up. Your heavy heart was apparent in the way your joints were stiff as Nobara moved you to the beat of the music, the way your eyes looked far away as you stared into space. Even the drunken girl could see that much. 

“M’gonna get a drink. Bye,” she said, words slurred and curt. She didn’t give you a chance to respond, you were left reaching out to the ghost of her, alone in a room full of dirtbags. 

It was simply reflex to retreat to the outskirts, the calmer wall in the corner of the room. Just a moment to breathe, to observe, to remember that you were you and not just some drunk girl escaping Megumi. Not everything was about him. 

Or, apparently, it was. Of course he was over here. Of fucking course. He was everywhere you went, lurking and hovering just a few steps ahead at all times. You didn’t want to see him, not now. Not when your mouth had been loosened by clear vodka and your anger was ever so overran by your sadness. It barely took a sideways glance at him to have your shoulders stiffen, a look of disdain taking over your features as you stared straight ahead. 

He caught your eye. He knew you were there, he always would. It seemed that his body knew before his mind, his pulse quickening and hands growing jittery. He silently watched you for a few moments, contemplating whether you’d hit him or not if he simply grabbed you and forced you to listen. It was obvious you didn’t want to talk to him, and had it been anyone else he would’ve left it alone. But it was you. You were different; you were always different. 

“[name].” 

No response. He moved closer, nearly caging you in, though involuntarily. Truth be told, he wasn’t exactly sober either. Itadori had a knack for influencing him. Maybe that’s why he was being so forward, shameless as he almost begged for your attention. 

“I’m talking to you,” he said. 

“I know.” 

He sighed, shoulders slumping. He expected nothing less from you, a quick mouth and subtle attitude. “[name].” Wow, he really liked the way your name sounded on his lips. “Please, can’t you just—just give me the time of day?” 

“Like you did? You ignored me for two weeks, Fushiguro,” you spat his name like it pierced your tongue to utter. This wasn’t a good time. Your emotions were amped up, every vibration from the suffocating music in the background shooting through you and only irritating you further. 

“I know, that’s why I’m asking you–“ 

“What did I do? Huh? Tell me what I did,” you cut him off, a crease forming between your brows. Then he saw it. Hidden beneath layers of anger and disdain was hurt, desperation to know why he’d shut you out. That made the guilt far worse. It felt like there was a pit in his chest, or rather a black hole, leaving him hollow inside. It was a dull ache of so much love being there, but not enough courage. 

Without thinking, his shaky hand reached out to you. It landed on your shoulder, clumsy and uncoordinated. “Nothing. You didn’t… you could never do anything to make me ignore you.” 

“So why?” you asked, voice breaking. You hated the way you subconsciously leaned into his touch, his face only a few short inches away from you. 

“Because I’m a coward,” he whispered. You don’t know when or how you moved in closer, you just know that you both did and it felt so utterly right that you couldn’t pull away. His pupils were dilated, love or alcohol? Possibly both. 

Was this actually happening? You could smell the faint scent of his cologne radiating from him, his breath smelling of alcohol as it mingled with yours. You could see every detail of his face from here. He looked gentle and desperate and something swirled in his eyes that you hadn’t seen before, but you wanted to. You wanted to see all of him, to understand every inch and mannerism and every other bit. You didn’t want Noritoshi. It had never been him. Always your Megumi. 

“Megumi,” you mumbled, the word sounding much sweeter on your lips than his surname had. 

“That’s better,” he breathed, and you swore you felt the touch of his lips on your own. 

But then came Todo, big and beefy and drunk and knocking into everyone. He seemed to be looking specifically for Megumi, grabbing his shoulder all too enthusiastically for the moment. 

“Hey, Fushiguro! You seen my brother?” he asked. You were left standing by the wall, struck by what had almost just happened. You could barely form any sort of coherent thought, mentally doing laps around the room. Megumi didn’t look much better, eyes wide and throat bobbing as he tried to compose himself. He was always composed, he wasn’t going to let that stop now. 

“No,” he grumbled, one word answers being the only thing he was conscious enough to say. Todo, looking defeated, left to continue his search. By the time you peeled your eyes away from the retreating figure of the boy, Megumi was gone. Disappeared into the crowd, nothing but a fish in a sea of people. 

He was fucked. 

Taglist !¡ — 

@1l-ynn @meowymeowbreow @missunrise @kiss-my-asscheeks @good-mourning0 @starrysho @gumims @beaniesayshi @mrowwww @luvvmae @megumislovedoll @azharyy @starsryi @tibibibi123 @idkidk32 @dazaisfavgf @tlissablr @vi0let-writes @walllflowerrrsss @sh0ot1ngst4r @blubearxy @tvnamayo @san-it-is-i-guess @harryzcherry @withlovesai @vivienne-jo

Aha… don’t attack me for this one Megumi went and hid in the washroom fs next chap will be a continued ver of this chap!! Like they’ll still be at the party it’s almost over… omg… I write every chap in one sitting btw so like don’t get mad if they’re shitty

[zigrethsnotebook]

Writing a thesis

Ford x Reader

words: 1,968

tags: nsfw, they have sex in this, cockwarming

a/n: i usually try to write the reader as gn as possible but in here they're going to have a vagina, sorry:/

You and Ford both sat in his lab, him busy on whatever he was researching now and you busy doing some reading for your thesis. You were somehow massively behind schedule, even though Stanford Pines was your study buddy. Then again, of course you were when he regularly said things like he did today.

"Ugh, I can't focus! I need to be inside you." He turned his chair to face you. "Please?" Without looking up from your literature you answered him. "Love, that hasn't worked once and I really need to get something done today."

He rolled his chair over to you, virtually begging you to look at him. "We don't need to have sex. I just want to be inside you." This managed to pull your eyes out of your book and onto him. "What, like cockwarming? How would that help?"

Ford's eyes were hopeful and pleading. "We'd both get what we want? I'd get to be inside you and you'd get to keep working." You pondered this for a moment. If this would get him to be quiet it could be worth a shot.

Plus, there surely wouldn't be any negative repercussions of conditioning yourself to only be able to work on your thesis while you had Ford's dick filling you up. Surely.

You squinted at him. "Under one condition: You don't move inside me until I am done with this book. That's the very least I need to get done today and if you mess this up then I'm afraid I won't be able to be around you while I write this thing anymore."

Ford's eyes were big as he nodded eagerly. "I won't, I promise." You sighed. "Alright. Okay, so first things first. I want you to grab a blanket. It is too cold down here. I won't be able to sit here without pants and without a blanket."

He quickly stood up and went to grab a blanket out of one of the many cabinets in his lab. While he was doing that, you moved all your stuff to his desk as you would be sharing it for the next while.

Ford spread the blanket out on his chair. "Okay, pants off." You commanded and he quickly did as he was told. His dick was already rock hard and you could feel yourself clench around nothing in anticipation.

"Sit down." You told him as you got rid of your own pants. "And get comfortable. You'll be sitting there for a while." Ford gulped audibly. He was so needy already, even without words.

"Are you ready?" You asked him as you moved to straddle Ford, your back to him. His hands found your hip, guiding you towards his crotch. "Yes, I am."

You lined yourself up with his cock and slowly let yourself sink onto it, feeling him stretch you out in the way you loved so much. You moaned when you reached the end, feeling him fully inside you. Ford groaned behind you as well, already enjoying this a little bit too much for your liking.

After a moment of adjusting yourself to his size and relaxing around it you grabbed the sides of the blanket and wrapped them around your legs and exposed middle. In another swift movement you pulled your chair closer to the desk and opened your book back up.

Ford still breathed heavily behind you while also twitching pathetically inside you. You hadn't even done anything interesting yet. With his hands still on your hip holding you tight he tried to buck up once, making you gasp.

With a sharp tone in your voice you reminded him. "What did I say about not moving inside me?" You heard Ford whimper behind you, muttering a half-hearted apology. "Don't do that again," you grumbled as you turned back to your work.

The book had already been boring as hell when you started reading it, but now with Ford's cock pulsing inside you it took you twice as long to read it. After a few pages you could feel yourself starting to clench around him, your body betraying you in a desperate attempt to achieve some form of relief.

Ford just winced silently with every move of your muscles or anytime you shifted ever so slightly. But he held his promise. No more movement from him. He also kept mostly quiet. Ideal working conditions if it weren't for the fact that you were slowly starting to lose your mind.

His dick just felt so good inside you, already touching all the right spots, it just wasn't enough. You wanted to ride him until it was all you could think about. There was also a slightly wet spot starting to pool in your seat on your boyfriend, a mix of both of your fluids. Best not to think about it.

You turned the page of your book again, taking notes. Although, by now your notes were riddled with more references to your current position that you'd like. Scribbled beneath the lines of important texts were words like 'deeper', 'oh god' and 'can't think - dick too good' in an almost frantic handwriting.

By the third time you read the paragraph you were currently stuck at you clenched around him again, accidentally and quite strongly. Ford moaned behind you, digging all his twelve fingers into your hip. You hissed and pressed your eyes shut as he pushed you deeper onto himself.

After a moment he loosened his grip a little again. Breathless, he asked: "How many pages left?" You looked at your book, dreading the answer yourself. "About thirty." Ford just groaned in response. You turned your focus back on your book, determined to finish this as quickly as possible.

About twenty-five pages and a few more self-inflicted distractions later, you were so close to achieving your goal for the day. You were also so close to losing all control. The blanket was disgustingly wet where it touched your middle and Ford's cock was still twitching inside you.

Ford himself had started to softly caress your thighs as if his own weren't trembling beneath you, essentially turning his dick into a vibrator.

You turned the page again. "Just three more..." You barely got the words out, totally lost in the sensations. Ford whimpered in response, not trusting his voice at all.

When Ford heard you turn the page again, indicating that you were on the last one he decided to do something that would definitely make you mad at him. He moved one of his hands from your thigh to your middle, quickly finding your clit and putting pressure on it with his index finger.

Your already incredibly sensitive organ fired all kinds of reactions up to your brain, making you roll your eyes back and falling backwards into Ford's chest with a loud moan.

The movement on his cock made him wince but he still started to rub slow circles on your clit. Your entire body started shaking, the pleasure already too much for you. "F-ford... I'm not- nghh... not done yet." You were barely able to get the words out between heavy breaths and moans.

And even though it took all his strength to keep the statement true, he responded cockily: "And I'm not moving inside you." You wanted to be mad and glare at him, but you were so lost in his finger on and his dick inside you that your vision started to blur.

Your body now seemingly acting on its own started to grind against Ford's finger, making you also grind deeper onto his cock, chasing your own release. Ford's breath was hot and heavy in your neck as you could only lean against him for support.

He increased the pace on his finger a little, bringing you to the brink of your orgasm and then pulled his finger away, leaving you breathless and grinding against nothing. Well, his cock and nothing. "Wha... Ford, you ca... you can't stop."

"I have to. You haven't finished your book." He wanted to still sound cocky but his own voice was breathless and a needy beg to do it quickly.

It took you a moment to gather yourself, coming down from the brink of your orgasm with his dick still twitching inside you was no easy task. You clenched around him a couple of times, more or less deliberately. Ford whined your name behind you. "Please... read quickly."

You slowly sat back upright, making both of you moan at the movement. Your eyes found your book and tried desperately to focus on it but the words were still slightly blurry. A few deep breaths later you could read again.

A few minutes later you were done and closed the book shut. The noise made Ford open his eyes again, waiting for your signal. "I'm done." With that his hand shot to your middle again.

He let one finger poke underneath you to the spot your bodies were connected, feeling around your entrance. "God, you take me so well..." You whimpered and Ford traced the finger back up to your clit, resuming his previous endeavor.

You let your eyes roll back again and held onto the desk for support. "Ford... please." Ford hummed in your ear. "Yes... come for me. I want to feel you on my cock." You moaned loudly, letting him coax you to the edge again.

"Yes, Ford! I-I'm gonna..." You moved your hips against his hand again, the steady rhythm of his finger getting you to the brink of your orgasm again. "Yes! Yes!" Ford could feel you clenching around him strongly, your orgasm setting in, which Ford used to buck up hard, causing him to spill into you immediately.

You saw stars as your body shook and clenched and twitched all without your permission, the pleasure of your orgasm crashing into you like a giant wave. Meanwhile, it kept Ford hard and groaning as he came down from his own high.

You hadn't even come down from it yourself as you felt Ford buck up into you again, his finger still drawing excruciating circles on your clit. "Come on, you can go again. I know you can." Ford's deep voice said from behind you.

You tried to lift yourself off him ever so slightly, but your legs immediately gave out, causing you to crash back down onto him and both of you to moan loudly. Luckily, Ford picked up the pieces and continued bucking up and drawing circles like his life depended on it.

The needy moans and wet sounds your bodies made rang out through the entire lab and Ford mentally thanked himself for having soundproofed this area of the house.

Ford's rhythm became erratic as he panted into your ear. "Won't last... much... longer." And one thrust later he spilled into you again. "Ford... please don't- ngh. Don't stop."

Even though he was fully spent he couldn't deny you now. He managed a few more pathetic thrusts as he put more pressure on your clit, sending you over the edge again. Ford held your shaking form as you rode it out on him, both of you red-faced and panting.

As you came down you could feel his dick going limp inside you and you pushed yourself off of him on shaky legs. You managed just enough to pull him out and sit back down on his legs, the blanket around you both preventing you from going any further.

You felt his sperm drip out of you and onto his legs but neither of you cared, too busy trying to catch your breaths.

You let your body fall onto the desk. "Ford?" His hand reached up to your back and he hummed in acknowledgement. "I love you." He chuckled lightly, his voice still breathy. "I love you, too."

[weirdgenetic-fuckup]

OKAY. HEAR ME OUT.

Justis (Dave’s son) bringing reader home bc they’re together, but Dave thinks she’s hella cute and reader too whatever. And then they end up fucking in like a bathroom or something😻

A/n: I'm feeling Christmassy, hope that's not a problem

Warnings: Smut, cheating, age gap, if you think I missed anything let me know otherwise enjoy!

University was hard, you tried to get out when you could but you were always focused on your schoolwork.

Your friends brought you out a few times to bars or whatever but you were more comfortable being the designated driver. Oddly enough it was when you were studying in the library that you met Justis.

You had a class together and he confessed he always caught himself looking at you and wanting to talk to you but just couldn't bring himself to do it until then.

You kept talking with him, he was nice and always brought you snacks when he knew you'd be studying. It was good and you knew, worst comes to worst, University is for experimenting, which you'd be doing a lot of once you met his dad you just didn't know it at the time.

It was Christmas time, the perfect time to meet his family, his dad and sister at least, and you were excited, sure, but as soon as that door opened and you were met with Dave it was like breathing for the first time.

He was different, the way he smiled at you, that look in his eyes as he looked you up and down, taking in your appearance.

You had to remind yourself over and over you were here with your boyfriend, Justis, but your eyes kept going back to Dave, always meeting his.

The plan was to stay a week but you felt like you should make up an excuse to leave earlier, not that you wanted to but you saw the way Dave was looking at you, saw the hunger in his eyes.

It was Christmas Eve and you couldn't sleep, couldn't even bring yourself to close your eyes while Justis was out beside you, arm loosely wrapped around your torso.

Someone was moving around downstairs, you knew it was Electra because you would have heard her walking down the hall, it had to be Dave.

You couldn't take it anymore and decided to just go talk to him, it was innocent enough.

You managed to get out of bed without disturbing Justis and made it downstairs to find Dave wrapping a few presents and tucking them under the tree, as you got closer you saw they were marked 'From: Santa'. Neither Justis nor Electra believed in Santa anymore, obviously, but he still liked keeping that there.

He panicked a moment when he finally noticed you but calmed down when he saw it was you. "Jesus, you scared me." He said with a gruff chuckle.

"Sorry." You said, smiling back at him. You moved to sit next to him on the floor, looking over the pile of gifts under the tree.

"I got you some too, don't worry." He said, tucking the present he'd just tagged under the tree, setting it on a bigger one.

"Really?" You asked, tilting your head to him. "I didn't think you would." You said, looking back to the colourful wall of wrapping paper. "I-I didn't get you anything." You admitted, biting your bottom lip as you looked back at him.

He shook his head and placed his hand on your thigh, over your fuzzy Christmas pyjama pants. "You got me enough, sweetheart." He looked straight into your eyes as he said it, his own carrying a much darker gleam in them. He brought his hand back and picked up another gift while you sat and thought about what he really meant.

You sat with him for a while longer, watching his hands as they flipped and folded the paper. You handed him the tape as he worked, it was weird if you didn't help at all so you did the bare minimum, the smile he gave you when you handed him a piece made it worth it every time.

As time bore on you felt yourself finally getting tired, gradually moving closer to Dave until you were fully leaning against him.

He helped you up once you were done and walked with you to the stairs, your room was up them while his was down the hall, still he followed you up the stairs.

He heard someone moving in your room before you did and he pulled you into the bathroom across the hall. He flicked the light on and smashed his lips onto yours, a kiss you immediately reciprocated.

Justis stepped out of the room and saw the lights on in the bathroom, assuming you'd just gone in there and would be out soon he turned and went back to bed, all while his dad was tugging on your clothes.

Your fuzzy pants slid down your legs and he saw you'd gone commando. "Really, sweetheart?"

"Just for you." You gleamed, pulling him back into a kiss.

He lifted you up and set you down on the counter, standing between your legs and pushing his own pants and boxers down, just enough for his dick to spring free.

Your breathing was heavy, as was his. Your cheeks were flushed, your forehead pressed against his as he pushed into you, causing you to moan before he could slap his hand over your mouth.

"I knew it was you the other night." He said with a chuckled. It's true, you'd been thinking about Dave all day and couldn't get him off your mind after you crawled into bed. "Thinking of me, weren't you?"

You nodded, wrapping your arms around his neck. "Not my fault when you look at me like that." You said, feeling yourself fluttering around him, eager for him to move. "He almost looks like you, anyway."

Dave snorted at that. "Doesn't feel the same, huh?" He asked, voice low, almost a growl. You shook your head, Dave was bigger in pretty much every way. Girthy and veiny and he smelled divine, you just kept aching for more. "That's what I thought." He mused, kissing you again as he started moving his hips, thrusts quickly picking up pace.

He was eager to please you, but it had been a while since he'd been with someone, he could already feel himself getting close.

He brought a hand to your clit, the sudden friction made you gasp into the kiss. He knew the second he pulled away you'd be moaning out his name like a worship song, he wanted to hear it but he couldn't risk waking up his kids, especially not with one of them dating you.

You mumbled something into the kiss, he didn't quite catch it but didn't think he'd have to. Then you pulled away. "Dave! I-I'm close, fuck!" You called. He rushed to get a hand over your mouth but you just pushed it away. The room filled with your moans, Dave gave up on silencing you and focused on how good you felt around him.

His arms wrapped around you as you came, he followed shortly after, letting himself spill into you.

It wasn't until then that he realized the banging he heard wasn't the two of you.

"What the fuck?!" Justis yelled from the other side of the door.

[roughentumble]

God. I bet Logan gets really bad domdrop. He'll finish a scene and get real quiet and then softly asks, "Babe, am I bad person?"

GOD. LITERALLY ABSOLUTELY SOOOOOO TRUEEEEEE

because he's always at war with his desires and his impulses and he tries to act very Human, like he doesnt /hate/ being a mutant and there are parts he embraces, but he also tends to hide/downplay those sides and only bring them out when he WANTS to shock someone. he contains multitudes. he's like, big on how others perceive him and will play into that intentionally in order to get the social upper hand by not presenting exactly how you'd expect, either being more or less animalistic than his apperance and your own biases would lead you to think.

im getting a little off topic but it is related! despite all that he is scared of being Too Other, Too Freak, Too Beast, Too Animal, Too Mindless. is he too violent? can he put down the violence, will the world let him? is he only made to be a weapon? what would others think of him, if they saw all the instincts he fights against? is he the instincts he fights, or is he the thinking man who wrestles with them?

all questions he struggles with, so any scene-- but extremely and especially a scene where he's mean or violent-- is going to bring those questions back up in his head until he's found a way to settle them and accept himself. i love the idea of wade and logan going out into the woods to dismember and gut each other, and then fuck in the bloody aftermath while their bodies are still knitting together, but logan is still trying to cling to normalcy and humanity enough that it would cause MAJOR domdrop once they were done. he'd be nauseous over what he got pleasure out of doing to another person, because doesnt that just confirm every evil thing ever said about him? while wade doesnt have the same reservations, because he's made peace with his own violence, and is much easier able to compartmentalize what theyre doing here as their version of "playing" because they can both take it. logan has absolutely no desire to dismember someone who cant grow back from it(or even if he does have the urge to do so with people who wont heal, the fact that they wont heal stays his hand and makes the thought repulsive even when the urge to do so with SOMEONE remains), so clearly this doesnt say anything bad about logan, to wade. clearly logan is just someone to the left of human who has inhuman urges and has no interest in sating them with the blood of innocents, he's just a Guy. its Fine. but logan isnt able to see that distinction in himself, and really struggles with feeling like a monster

he needs a lot of TLC and gentle introspection to get over it, and even after he's dealt with it there will be times where he looks over at wade and needs to know. did i hurt you too badly? am i bad because i want to hurt you? am i a monster? could you ever love me when i have your blood in my teeth?

then there's the "dont touch me, im a fucking monster" days where he starts breathing heavy and getting in his own head, and he needs to be talked to nice and sweet, reminded of how happy it makes wade and how he isnt alone in their games. he isnt bad for being an aggressor. because that's what it comes down to, being the aggressor feels like an evil tainted role when its him, but obviously its not bad when WADE is hurting HIM-- a flaw in his logic that he cant see when he's in the moment and panicking and feeling like utter crap

logan getting domdrop is actually something that can be so personal

[eowynstwin]

So, Ikea and Bunny. I need to talk about them too, though no one has explicitly asked about them.

The truth is, I am still so fucking angry at those two. There is not a kind thought in me for either of them. Either my worst suspicions are true, and they conducted the whole affair from behind the scenes, or they were willfully stupid enough to swallow Myka’s story for the sake of their own blog engagement. Because I sure never heard of either of them before this happened.

Those two were needlessly and joyfully cruel to me. They languished in attacking my character, my maturity, my intelligence, the way I phrased things, or that I did not say what they thought I ought to. They called me a sociopath. Ad verbatim they said my brain "doesn't fucking work right."*

I have been VERY open for a while now about being autistic. I certainly already had it in my blog description by the time they came after me.

They went on to accuse me of poor reading comprehension, bullying, and abuse. They accused me of setting my followers on Myka. When I referenced one separate occasion in which I had a public disagreement with another blogger earlier this year, they spun that reference out into a HISTORY of influencing my followers to go after others I didn't like. (There was no request for clarification on my part before they took that and ran with it.)

Bunny even went as far as to explain what Myka's original post meant, the way a third grade teacher might, to prove her point about my lack of reading comprehension.** Bunny, just call me a fucking retard and be done with it.

Then, as people began to point out that they were in fact doing the same thing they accused me of doing, they had the audacity to remind everyone not to harass me. So it's okay when you forget about that, girlies, but guillotine for me because I forgot?

When the truth finally came out, they backpedaled REAL quick. I even got some apologies in my inbox.

Genuinely. From the bottom of my heart. Absolutely fuck the both of you. I didn't have you blocked until I left. In fact, the both of you FOLLOWED ME. You never ONCE tried to talk to me first anyway. You two saw your chance to tear me to pieces and you fucking took it.

Disclaimer, because I know these two people by now: this is no call to action for anyone to go after them. I doubt you could anyway, since all of their blogs have been inactive since June. (the-original-honeybun is crashtestbunny's main.)

But these two did permanent damage to my reputation within this fandom. Even if they were to delete every single post they made about me, there would still be versions of them circulating. Their blogs are still fucking UP, ostensibly for accountability, but exactly how accountable are they if they haven't actually been there to take it?

*Specifically Ikea. Scroll her blog if you need proof. The post is still up. **Also still up on her blog, crashtestbunny.

[venomhound]

Hazbin Hotel - Signs they Got a Crush: Vees DLC

I wrote two of these characters along with the original post then just went 'ah fuck it' and decided to make a Vee dedicated post. So here are some dumb headcanons about how Valentino, Velvette, and Vox act when they start getting crushes.

My other 'Hazbin Characters Crushing' post can be found >>HERE<<

Contents/WARNINGS: Gender neutral reader; Valentino's section is a giant sexual harassment lawsuit; other then that, they all just really suck at this whole 'feelings' thing (18+), MDNI, NSFW below the cut ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

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Valentino ₊˚ ‿︵୨୧

Valentino also falls into the 'not subtle' category. Not like he actually tries or anything. As far as he is concerned, its just a matter of time before you like him, if you don't already.

What little concept of personal space Valentino had goes right out the window. Your space is his space now.

Constantly has one of his hands on your shoulder, an arm wrapped around your shoulders or waist, or is just generally circling you like a predator. If for some reason he can't touch you, he sure as heck isn't leaving your personal bubble.

When you sit down, Valentino sits right next to you, with your sides/hips touching. That is, if he isn't just pulling you to sit in his lap instead. Thinks his lap is the best throne in the land and is always patting a hand on his thigh, offering for you to sit there.

The other thing Valentino does constantly, regardless of if you accept or not (or even if your comfortable with it), is ask you to come "supervise" his porn shoots.

You get the feeling its less 'supervision', and more he wants you to be there for him to tease and/or use as a toy during said shoot.

If you actually work in the porn industry, Valentino will say the reason he wants you to be there is so you can help him 'teach' some of his actors. If your not in the porn industry, Valentino will say he just wants some 'outsider' perspective on his films. Its all bullshit obviously. Valentino just wants you in his lap looking pretty while his dick is hard.

The other big thing (which I've mentioned before but its just a hard headcanon of mine okay), is that Valentino starts sweet talking you in Spanish. When he gets comfortable with someone, it just becomes natural for him to start slipping back into his native language.

Most of the time, its Valentino just mumbling something teasing under his breathe in a language you cant even understand. Other times he is a bit bolder and will whisper something absolutely nasty in your ear. You have no idea what he actually said, but Valentino's tone and proceeding chuckle definitely made you shiver.

Valentino will also start using more casual petnames like cariño (darling, sweetie) or gatito/gatita (kitten) when talking to you. Valentino is very partial to using these types of names with those who he endears in general. If your wondering, yes; he has called Vox 'my gatito' before.

SUMMERY: 🦋 Is always touching you in one way or another 🦋 Wants you sitting on his lap 24/7 🦋 Invites you to come ""supervise"" his porn shoots 🦋 Starts speaking to you in Spanish more; uses Spanish nicknames for you

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Velvette ₊˚ ‿︵୨୧

She talks about you. Alot. Velvette won't even realize when this starts to become a habit. She just... kinda does it. Velvette will just randomly bring you up in conversation and things will constantly remind her of you. You two dont even have to interact much and Velvette will still find ways to tell stories about you.

This is why everyone is going to know about her little crush before you do. Velvette hardly praises anyone, not even the other Vees. So her talking about you like you two are besties makes everyone turn their heads.

This one might seem condescending at first, but trust me, its just Velvette not knowing how to flirt to save her life. Velvette will start complimenting you but at the same time trying to fix you. So it comes across as some weird backhanded compliment.

Some examples of what Velvette will say when she sees you: 🎀 "Oh! Your hair is SO on point today, darling! Hmm... You know what outfit I think would look even better with it?" 🎀 "That is SUCH a cute hairpin. And EARRINGS!! But--uh. Huh. I think a lower necklace would look better, don't you?" 🎀 "That jacket really suits you! But you need a little something to bring out your eyes... Your eyes always shine when you have something blue on ya."

Stalks you on social media. Kind of a given. Velvette tries to be super careful about it and not give herself away since she is literally the social media queen. She is too scared to actually tag you in anything but will comment on your posts once and awhile.

Velvette will also go through your entire timeline by the way. The moment you start to suspect something is up is when Velvette accidentally likes a post from 5 years ago.

Or it happens when the two of you are talking one day and Velvette references a post you made as if it just happened. You give her a weird look and tell her that post was from like, three years ago. Velvette's normally blasé demeanor cracks and she has to excuse herself to go scream.

If your also a social media person or creative in anyway, Velvette will ask for your feedback constantly. She will send you drafts of her posts before they go live and ask what you think. If Velvette is feeling particularly brave (or is drunk enough), she might send you a fake thirst trap post for some ""feedback"". ¬‿¬

She will use you alot for brainstorming, particularly at night or when she is drunk. Velvette will just text you a bunch of raw, unfiltered ideas for posts or new design ideas. It doesn't even matter if you respond. You'll just wake up some mornings with 100+ unread messages. Yes; Velvette does expect you to go through all of them and tell her what you like and don't like.

I think, deep down, Velvette wants a s/o who isn't just a romantic partner, but a business one too. A real partner in crime if you will. So her constantly throwing ideas at you and asking for feedback is her way of testing you. Seeing if you can match her creativity and energy.

SUMMERY: 🎀 Brings you up in casual conversations with other people. Constantly gets reminded of you. 🎀 Gives you compliments; but tries to fix you at the same time 🎀 Stalks you on social media. Has your entire timeline memorized. 🎀 Asks you for feedback on her work and posts; uses you as an idea filter and tests your creativity

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Vox ₊˚ ‿︵୨୧

Honestly? The most surefire way you can tell Vox cares about you is that he makes room in his schedule for you. I'm not even talking just in a romantic sense here. If Vox cares about you at all, he will find time for you. Otherwise he will just be like 'I'm busy, shove it'.

The way you know if you've gone from a person in Vox's life that he values to him actually being head over heels for you, is if you suddenly are more important then his schedule.

When you text him 'are you busy?', instead of him asking why and seeing if he can fit you in somewhere, Vox just fucking drops everything, rushes over to you, and asks what you need.

Mr. ""Progressive"" here has no idea how modern flirting works. So he defaults to what he knows; old school 50s courting. Which honestly results in him desperately pining more then anything.

Jumps at the chance to pay for anything and insists on it. This is mostly due to residual toxic masculinity from the 50s. Back then the man always paid for everything and the biggest asset in dating was your ability to take care of a partner (aka, money).

So yeah. Vox is going to pay for everything and is going to use every opportunity he can to flex his wealth. While this behavior comes across very differently in todays culture, in Vox's head he is basically going 'I can take care of you so hard baby (｡•̀ᴗ-)✧'

Takes any opportunity to be around you. Even if you two don't talk much (or at all), just being in your orbit is enough for him. Watches you from afar and takes mental notes of everything. Especially what makes you laugh. Vox swears that when he hears you laugh, he starts glitching out.

He also loves to see you working. Vox thinks your concentrated face is absolutely adorable. He will often opt to just watch from afar instead of approaching you and interrupting what your doing.

You know how I mentioned Vox notices everything? I mean it. He is hyperaware when it comes to someone he is crushing on. You will casually mention a show you like one time and Vox will bring it up again months later when he finally found the time to watch it.

In my opinion, this is the biggest, most glaring flag that is going to tip you off that Vox has feelings for you. Because it will just throw you for a loop sometimes. Vox will get you something in your favorite color, he shows up with your favorite drink, or the perfect coffee, and you don't even remember telling him that information.

So you side-eye him and ask how he knew the exact way you liked your coffee. Vox starts sweating bullets and lies that you two had a conversation about the 'proper' way to drink coffee. See, he remembers it specifically because he thought it was hilarious; its not surprising you don't remember it! It wasn't actually that special...

Of course, Vox is way too embarrassed to tell you that the real reason he knew the way you liked your coffee is because he remembered your exact order from the one time you two got coffee together weeks ago.

Vox is honestly just a puppydog when he is crushing. He really wants your attention but has no idea how to actually get it without fucking it up. And he is so afraid of fucking it up.

SUMMERY: 📺 Sets his entire schedule on fire if you need him 📺 Spends money like its water. Never brings up you paying him back or the cost of anything unless its to tell you not to worry about it. 📺 Always seems to be around you. Watches you from afar 📺 Remembers everything; notices small details about you

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FURTHER READING ₊˚ ‿︵୨୧

For an adorable Vox love realization, check out >>this post<< by @bad-and-drawn-that-way

I also highly recommend >>this post<< by @gargoy-ross on what each of the Vee's ideal s/o would be like

[fishysaltine]

Honestly I’ve always seen Bloodbath (or the kill Zara quest) as Illario’s final desperate attempt to be swayed form his plan. It kind of reminds me of Solas and Varric’s note of him in the beginning of the game “he just needs someone to give him a different option”

Like Illario is genuinely upset about this whole thing. He thought Lucanis was dead, and we see that he was such a chronically depressed alcoholic yapper after Lucanis’ death that even though he did give the hit, he at least regretted it or it didn’t sit well with him. (I have no doubt Zara manipulated him to some extent into it, since she has her eyes on Lucanis after the Wigmaker job anyway, but neither Zara or Illario are actually explored in game). But when Illario is taking us to the boat, he makes note of saying Catarina didn’t tell him because “I would have tried to save him.” The way he says that line is in a COMPLETELY different tone than anything else he says. It’s stern and to the point, not condescending like after Illario takes out Zara and talks down on Lucanis, telling him he’s a danger and liability.

If Illario knew Lucanis was actually alive, he probably would have killed Zara earlier. And Zara obviously KNEW THIS because she didn’t tell Illario Lucanis was ALIVE for that very reason. Illario never knew about Spite. He never planned for the Ossuary. He never meant for that to happen! Zara knew that whatever Illario and she had going on would never even be close to the bond Lucanis and Illario have, and Illario would put that over power every single time.

Almost every single time.

Because he knows what he did, and he still goes out for coffee with Lucanis and the weirdo rando that saved him. And then he tries to convince Lucanis to stay away from Zara, because he knows that Zara is capable of and how not only she can, but has hurt Lucanis. (She turned his big brother into an abomination!)

WAIT A MINUTE WHO ELSE DOES THAT? Lucanis does! Except Lucanis is more direct about it. Says that Zara might come after him. Illario tries to convince Lucanis she’s in fuckass land, get him out of the situation ENTIRELY involving Antiva, the Anntam, First Talon. Yeah, there’s probably a selfish motivation, but in Wigmaker Illario is so fucking scared Lucanis is going to essentially fling himself off a cliff, there’s a genuine “heyy can you take a holiday? Can you stop being passively suicidal for me, your little cousin? Can we stop with the ‘death is my calling’ shit?”

Of course Illario can’t just go “uhh I’ll take care of it dw bro” because to Lucanis the beef with Illario and Zara isn’t merely as personal as he (and Spites) beef with her. They really just want to protect one another and get their dues.

Illario killing Zara wasn’t so much for him. I mean she kind of played him, but whatever, it didn’t necessarily affect Illario in anyway, it was for Lucanis. A way to try and appease the guilt of something that he never intended to happen to his older brother. That’s why Illario wants to be there during Bloodbath. “It’s Crow business” aka ‘WHY ARE YOU TAKING WEIRDO RANDO 1 & 2 OVER ME? I deserve to be at your side, I’ll follow you to the ends of the earth and back, why won’t you let me anymore?’

So Illario meets Lucanis and his rando friends on the rooftop. Lucanis asks him what he’s doing there- and Illario says he wants to go. He’s so desperate to go, to prove his alliance to his big brother cousin. But that’s not all. Lucanis has been gone for a year, and then left immediately. Killing and missions, being Crow’s is one of the main ways Lucanis and Illario bond.

Illario has never felt good enough. For his grandmother, for Lucanis, for anyone. That’s why he started this mess. Zara tells him Lucanis doesn’t think he’s good enough, he never will be, until he does the most Crow thing ever and cuts him out of the family line. Then finally, maybe, when his cousin’s eyes are glassy and corpse empty, will they be filled with approval.

But Lucanis is right here (with two randos)! And Illario asks him to involve him, just looking for that smidge of approval. And Lucanis says no. Ok. Cool! Maybe he just wants you safe. Fine, whatever. But you’re capable- at least you think you are.

So you ask the damning question. “You think I’m not good enough?”

And your cousin, your big brother, simply says: “Are you?”

While surely a good natured jab from Lucanis as siblings do, had Lucanis’ answer been anything even close to praise or more concern, I think Illario would’ve been fine to step out of the way. ALL he needed was Lucanis’ mild assurance/approval. Just a ‘oh no, you’re good enough. I just don’t want you getting hurt is all’

But he doesn’t say that. He simply feeds into the very insecurity that sent Illario to selling him out, the very one that Zara told him but he never quite believed until the words came from Lucanis’ mouth. ‘You’re not good enough to stand by my side anymore.’ And potentially ‘I’ve replaced you with rando 1 & 2, I don’t need you anymore’

So then he doubles down. No more playing nice cousin or big brother little brother. If Lucanis doesn’t want Illario by his side anymore- fuck it, Illario doesn’t need him. Lucanis saying Illario isn’t good enough isn’t just a blow to his ego, or self confidence/self esteem, it’s a flat out rejection. So he takes the kill from Lucanis, and essentially tells him to get the fuck out of dodge or else, and then tries to strong arm first Talon.

Lucanis never quite gives Illario “the different option.” Illario throws their bond away not because he necessarily wants to, but because he thinks Lucanis’ threw it away first, and that he’s just folding onto a frayed rope (not even mentioning how Illario crosses out Lucanis’ name in the family line, showing how he just… almost doesn’t exist. He’s gone to Illario. Illario’s so hurt by everything he just wants Lucanis gone at this point, come hell or high water.)

Lucanis quite literally says that the only way Catarina would be proud of Illario is if he kills her, and if that extends to Lucanis, so be it.

[dwobbitfromtheshire]

Jonathan was walking ahead of Nancy and Steve, trying to make their way back to Steve’s car in the heavy fog. Steve couldn't help but smile as he watched Jonathan walk. He had such a specific walk that Steve now knew he found cute. His eyes landed on his backside. Yeah, that was also very cute. Steve was quickly taking it all in stride now that he knew that it wasn't just Nancy he was mad for. He felt curious eyes on him, and he looked at Nancy, who was smiling at him in amusement.

"What?" Steve asked.

"Nothing," Nancy smiled.

"No, it's something," Steve said.

"It just looked like you were checking out my boyfriend's ass," Nancy said.

"Maybe I was. It's cute," Steve shrugged. "Never noticed how cute it was before."

"It is cute," Nancy agreed.

Jonathan spun around so fast that he would have fallen if Steve hadn't caught him. Steve grinned.

"Hey, looks like you've fallen for me," Steve said.

"Get off," Jonathan scoffed, but Steve noticed he was smiling. "I would never."

"You'd be lucky, I'm an excellent cook, so whenever you don't want to cook, I'm your man," Steve winked. "Can't say the same about Nancy."

"Oh, God, she tried to cook for you, too?" Jonathan asked.

"I'm not that bad," Nancy laughed.

"Yes, you are," Jonathan and Steve said before grinning at each other.

"It's the thought that counts, Nance," Steve said.

"I have to agree with Steve on this one," Jonathan said. "You can't be good at everything."

"I can try," Nancy said.

"I also happen to give a mean foot rub," Steve said.

"I can attest to that," Nancy said.

"Are you trying to convince me that it's a great idea to fall for you or remind Nancy why she fell for you?" Jonathan asked with a scowl.

"Who says it can't be both?" Steve asked.

"What?" Jonathan asked in surprise.

"Hey, I found my car! Come on, It'd be a terrible idea to drive in this, but we can wait it out inside my car," Steve said.

Jonathan and Nancy slid into the backseat after putting the bags in the trunk while Steve took the driver's seat. Jonathan leaned forward.

"Both of us?" Jonathan asked.

Steve turned sideways in his seat to look at Jonathan.

"I assume that Nancy told you about my little dream with the RV," Steve said.

"Yeah, she did," Jonathan said.

"Well, a few weeks ago, I had another little dream. It's pretty much the same thing with Nancy there, and we're all loaded in the RV ready to go on an adventure, but there was another added detail that I just didn't want to admit has always been there. It's just as important as Nancy being there. . .you were there, too, Jonathan," Steve said.

"Me?" Jonathan asked.

"Yeah, I think you were there for a long time. When Nancy and I were together, I wanted you there, too. I thought it was just me doing it for Nancy, you know, that I wanted you to be my friend so badly that I even tried to invite you to go on dates with us," Steve said.

"I thought you were just messing with me," Jonathan said.

"Yeah, I thought I was, too," Steve said and paused. "I just don't think that I'm ever that lucky to have both Jonathan Byers and Nancy Wheeler fall for me. . .just do me a favor and at least give it some thought before you reject me."

"Uh. . .yeah," Jonathan said softly, sitting back.

There was a long stretch of silence, and then Steve could hear Nancy whispering to Jonathan in the back.

"Well, this is awkward," Steve said as he tapped his fingers on the wheel. "Maybe I should have waited for the fog to lift to say anything."

Jonathan moved forward again.

"So, when Nancy gave you a back rub, did it also always turn into sex?" Jonathan asked.

"Yes! Sometimes a guy just wants a back rub, you know!" Steve exclaimed.

"Excuse me!" Nancy yelled, laughing.

"I know," Jonathan laughed. "What's wrong, Nance? I thought you wanted us to get along."

"Not at my expense, Jonathan!" Nancy said and hit him playfully.

"I just wanted to make it less awkward," he said and Steve laughed.

"Well, it's awkward for me now!" She said.

Jonathan, Nancy, and Steve fell into an easy, playful conversation. Jonathan and Steve continued to team up against Nancy to tease her while she pretended like she wasn't loving it. Eventually, the fog lifted and managed to drive them back to the radio station. They walked into the station with grocery bags in hand and set them on the table by the couch. Joyce and the others spilled into the room.

"Oh, we got back before you did," Joyce said and hugged Jonathan.

"Yeah, your mom was about to send out a search party," Hopper said.

"Oh, we got caught in the fog," Jonathan said.

"That's what I told her," Hopper said. "She kept coming up with awful scenarios."

"Where's Robin?" Steve asked Dustin.

"Bathroom," Dustin said. "How awkward was it - Steve?"

He ignored Dustin, clapping him on his shoulder, and went down the back hallway. He could feel Nancy and Jonathan's eyes on him as he disappeared into the back. Steve followed the hallway all the way to the end and knocked on the bathroom with the special knock he had with Robin.

"Entrevue!" Robin said, and then there was a giggle.

"Doesn't that mean interview?" He heard Vickie ask.

"It does, but it sounds like enter," Robin said.

Steve rolled his eyes affectionately and entered the bathroom. Vickie was sitting on the counter with Robin in between her legs as she braided Robin's hair. Judging by their very pink mouths, they had just been making out. Steve winced.

"I can come back," Steve said.

"We stopped right before you knocked," Robin said. "I know that look, you need to spill your guts. What happened with you, Jonathan, and Nancy? I knew it was going to be awkward. I should have fought harder to go with you. Vickie, my love, you're a beautiful distraction but a distraction none the less."

"You're blaming this on me?" Vickie asked with a giggle.

"Yes, absolutely," Robin said. "It's nice to have someone to blame things on. Let me have it."

"Well," Steve said, closing the door behind him and leaning against the wall. "I told Jonathan that I was just as in love with him as I am with Nancy."

"What?! Why the hell would you do that?! To make it even more uncomfortable than it already is?!" Robin asked, with a shriek.

"I wanted to be honest with him," he explained to her.

"Honest?! Honest with him?! Are you telling me that you're in love with Jonathan Byers?" Robin asked.

"Oh, I see what this is. Are you getting me back for the Tammy Thompson thing?" he asked.

"Tammy Thompson?" Vickie asked, and Robin waved her hand at her dismissively.

"No, this is me asking if you, Steve Harrington, are in love with a man?" she asked.

"Why are you so surprised?" Steve asked. "I told you about my feelings for Jonathan after I had that dream."

"What dream?!" she shrieked.

"Robin, babe, blood pressure," Vickie said and kissed her throat.

"She cares about my health," Robin said as she took a break from her freak out. "She wants to keep me alive."

"Why are you acting so surprised about the dream I had about Jonathan being in the RV with me and Nancy?" Steve asked and then frowned. "I think I might have dreamed about telling you."

Robin ran a hand through her hair, messing up the braids Vickie put in. She took a deep breath as Vickie rubbed her shoulders.

"Alright, so you love Jonathan and Nancy?" Robin asked. "Okay, your poor taste in men aside. . .what did they say?"

"Well, they seemed surprised, but they didn't seem to hate me for the revelation. I just asked them to give it some thought before making any final decisions. So, I have no clue what they think about me wanting to be with both of them," Steve said, looking down at his feet.

"Hey, this could turn out to be a really good thing, you know," Robin said, softly.

"I'm trying not to get my hopes up," Steve replied with a shrug. "But there was this moment, in the car, when we were waiting for the fog to go away, and it was just the three of us. . . It was just really nice and they were both laughing because of me. . .so, even if nothing romantic comes from me being honest with them, I think something good already did. Jonathan certainly doesn't look at me the way he used to, which is good. . ."

"That's a really great way to look at it," Vickie said, beaming. "And welcome to the club."

"Is it a nice club?" Steve asked.

"Oh, yeah, we like to meet twice a month," Vickie said. "And we like to bake. At least, I do!"

"Me, too," Steve grinned.

Vickie hopped off the counter and hugged Steve. Robin let them have their moment before squealing and joining in on the hug. They jumped at the loud banging on the door.

"I don't know what the hell is going on in there, but I've got to piss!" Dustin yelled. "Hello?!"

After that, Steve waited patiently for a response from Jonathan and Nancy. It was too important to rush, he knew, and they both deserved to give it the proper consideration. Meanwhile, they talked, and they didn't stop him from flirting with them. He even thought that they might have been flirting back. It made him absolutely giggle when they both smiled at him at the same time, Nancy's blue eyes twinkling and Jonathan flashing his dimples, dimples that he just wanted to press his thumb into. . . Yeah, okay, he was definitely a freak. Would Jonathan let him do that?

"Jonathan!" Steve yelled.

The three of them had gotten partnered a lot more frequently. Steve wasn't sure if it was random circumstances or if someone was trying to throw them together on purpose. Steve wasn't complaining, especially when they were all three looking after Dustin, who was now possibly starting to pick up on the way Steve looked at the both of them. That's why they were here now, running away from a demogorgon. It always seems like the three of them were running away from those creatures. The woods offered little to no protection, but the demogorgon had cut them off from Steve's car. Now, the thing had separated Jonathan from Steve and Nancy. Steve and Nancy scrambled around the dark for their weapons, but they couldn't wait because the demogorgon had Jonathan trapped underneath him. Steve stood up and ran at the demogorgon, throwing his entire body on top of it, knocking it off Jonathan.

"Steve!" Jonathan yelled.

Steve used everything he had to pin the demogorgon to the ground, but the monster was stronger than he was. Its claws dug into Steve's forearm, and the other one dug into his side. Scraping was the more accurate term. It was still pretty painful. He heard the click of the lighter that Nancy had managed to find, and out of the corner of his eye, he saw a blaze of fire. As the demogorgon flipped him on his back and opened his face, Nancy jammed the flaming bat into its mouth. The demogorgon screamed, jumping off of Steve, and tried to pull the bat out, but its nails had sunk into its flesh very deep. It ran off, running into the trees as it tried to pull it out.

"Steve!" Nancy and Jonathan screamed.

"Our bat!" Steve yelled.

"I'll make us a new one," Jonathan asked as he wrapped an arm around him, pulling him up.

"What else can you do with your hands?" Steve mumbled.

"Let's get you to the station, and you'll find out," Nancy said and wrapped her arm around his other side.

"Why is it always me?" Steve asked and snorted. "I'm lucky, I guess."

Jonathan and Nancy got Steve into the backseat of his car. They quickly put temporary bandages on his wounds before digging into his pants' pockets to fish out his keys. Just as Nancy slipped in the driver's seat while Jonathan held onto Steve, they heard the sound of the soldiers off in the distance, taking out the demogorgon. Nancy quickly drove off towards the radio station. When they got there, no one else had arrived yet. Steve guessed they were still at the hospital. With their help, Steve pulled off his backpack, jacket, and shirt. They yanked him down onto the couch, grabbing the first aid kit.

"Jesus," Jonathan said.

"Oh, this isn't that bad. You should have seen the bat bites and road rashes during spring break. I don't think I'm going to need stitches," Steve said. "Just stop the bleeding and clean the wound, then wrap it."

"Are you sure?" Nancy asked.

"Uh, yeah," Steve said and then he frowned. "Did Robin and I not tell you that we're studying to become paramedics?"

"No," Nancy and Jonathan said.

"Uh, yeah, I figured that since I was getting hurt a lot and we both wanted to find a way to help people," he said. "I'm not even sure that I'm going to get it."

"You're going to do great, man," Jonathan said.

Nancy wrapped Steve's torn shirt around his arm while Jonathan pressed a piece of cloth to his side.

"I can't believe you tackled a demogorgon," Nancy said.

"It was nothing," Steve said.

"Are you seriously being modest about full body tackling a nine foot tall demogorgon? It was impressive, and you know it, asshole," Jonathan said. "I couldn't believe you did that either."

"Couldn't let you die," Steve said.

Jonathan blushed and focused on fixing up his wounds.

"Thank you," Jonathan whispered.

Steve used his free hand to brush Jonathan's hair out of his eyes. He watched as Jonathan's expressions changed as they finished wrapping him up. He looked angry.

"Are you okay?" Steve asked.

Jonathan jumped up and began to pace. Finally, he turned on Steve, his hands on his hips.

"That was completely stupid of you to do that! It was a fucking demogorgon and you went after it like you were playing football! Did you even think about Robin or Dustin or the other kids? You know they care about you?!" Jonathan yelled.

"Like mother, like son, right?" Steve asked Nancy and she snorted.

"Tell me about it," she said.

"Hey! I'm being serious here!" Jonathan yelled.

"I'm getting hints of Hopper now," Steve said.

"Like father, like son," Nancy teased.

"You threw yourself at a demogorgon like it meant nothing. . .like your life meant nothing, and you always do this! I mean, I thought you wanted a future!" Jonathan yelled.

"I do! That's what we're fighting for here," Steve said, bewildered.

"Then act like it! You want the RV, don't you?!" He asked.

"Yeah!"

"I want the RV, too! We want the RV, but we can't have the RV if you're dead!" Jonathan exclaimed.

"What?" Steve asked, looking at him softly.

"I want the RV!" Jonathan yelled, throwing up his hands. "Okay, I want the RV."

Steve and Jonathan stared at each other, Jonathan breathing heavily. Jonathan threw himself onto Steve, pressing him back against the couch. He cupped Steve’s face and crashed his lips to his. Steve responded to the kiss eagerly, running his hands up Jonathan's back and smiling when he felt Nancy's hand join his in tracing a path down Jonathan's spine. Steve broke the kiss, smiling.

"I just want to point out that we can't have the RV without you either," Steve said. "And we're all equally reckless, so I don't know why I'm the one getting yelled at. . ."

"Asshole," Jonathan laughed.

Nancy grabbed Steve’s chin and forced him to look at her.

"You do not have our permission to die, got it?" Nancy asked.

"Got it," Steve laughed.

Nancy kissed him, just as enthusiastically as Jonathan. God. He missed kissing her, and it seemed like she did, too. Their kiss didn't last long before they heard the front door to the radio station bang open loudly. The three of them sprang apart really quickly. The rest of their party all filtered in at once.

"Oh my god! Is that blood?!" Joyce yelled.

"It's not mine, it's Steve’s!" Jonathan said quickly.

"Steve! Why does this keep happening to you?!" Dustin exclaimed.

"He does this to himself," Jonathan said, smiling. "He wouldn't have to do it if it I hadn't needed saving."

"He's fine for someone who full body tackled a nine foot tall demogorgon," Nancy said.

"You tackled a demogorgon?!" Lucas, Mike, and Dustin yelled.

"Yeah, I did do that," Steve said.

"You dingus," Robin said.

"Totally worth it, though," Steve said. "And Jonathan already yelled at me for being reckless."

"Yeah, I thought I heard him yelling," Will grinned.

"Just like his mom," Hopper said. "What was that about an RV?"

"You heard that?" Steve asked.

"It's the only thing we heard. Why does Jonathan want an RV?" Will asked.

"Oh my god! He said he wants the RV?" Robin asked, and then he turned to Jonathan. "You said you wanted the RV?!"

"Yeah, I'm guessing you know what that means?" Jonathan asked with a laugh.

"Yeah, I know what that means!" Robin squealed, jumping up and down. "Vick, he he said he wanted the RV!"

"I heard!" Vickie squealed and started jumping with her girlfriend.

"We both want the RV," Nancy said in amusement.

"They both want the RV!" Robin and Vickie squealed.

"What the hell is this?" Hopper asked.

"Jonathan?" Joyce asked in amusement.

"Oh! I think I know what this is about," Dustin said.

"You do?" Steve asked. "Was I that obvious?"

"Jonathan was so jealous that we stole an RV that he wants to steal one himself," Dustin said, snapping his fingers.

"Jonathan, honey, why do you want to steal an RV?" Joyce asked.

"Yeah, I don't think that's what this is," Hopper said, squinting his eyes at Jonathan. "Son, something you want to tell us?"

"It's nothing bad. We'll tell you later," Jonathan said, blushing. "Let's just get Steve something to eat."

"Yeah, me and Vickie went shopping this time, so you're in luck, Stevie," Robin said.

"Okay, but while we eat, can we please cover up Steve’s tits? No one wants to see that!" Mike exclaimed.

Steve and Jonathan shared a smile with Nancy as Jonathan collapsed on the couch next to Steve. They curled up together as they ate, enjoying the moment of happiness during all this hell. Steve glanced at Jonathan, who was leaning against his arm as he told everyone about how Steve saved him. Oh, how far they've come.

[el-princess]

— the princess take on manifestation:

disclaimer: this is my view on manifestation and the law of attraction, i'm simply sharing my own personal opinions and thoughts that i formed from my own experiences and trials and errors.

MY HISTORY WITH THE LAW

i first discovered the law of attraction on tumblr back when i was fourteen. i remember feeling very excited thinking i found the secret to life. however i had trouble making sense of the things i was discovering, and it didn't help how it felt like every week a new concept or technique was invented. i'd send endless asks to different loa blogs but everytime i'd be told that i had limiting beliefs. i couldn't rid myself of them no matter how hard i tried, it started to feel like i just wasn't meant for manifesting. eventually i grew tired of it and abandoned the law completely. it was still at the back of my mind though, and it wasn't until a few months ago that it all clicked to me.

WHY YOU STRUGGLE WITH MANIFESTATION

when you first start to get into the law, one of the first thing you're told is to disregard logic and that keeping any sort of logical thought means upholding limiting beliefs that will in turn hinder your manifesting process. i completely disagree with that. it's hard to completely rewire your way of thinking and it's unfair to place that type of burden on yourself. i think it's proven by the fact that the same type of asks that were sent four years ago are still being sent now.

one of the most common asks that get sent are "i'm trying to manifest getting (blank) without doing anything but i'm not seeing results" and nine times out of ten the advice that is given is "just believe that you can have (blank) without the work" i think it's ineffective advice. it's easier said than done. i think it's much more effective to work with your already existing believing system than force yourself to form a new one that in the end will crumble. manifestation is built on belief.

let's use weight loss as an example. if you're trying to manifest weight loss without working out but still arent seeing results, chances are you simply don't believe you can. and that's completely okay! instead of repeating affirmations that deep down you don't believe, get up and do the most low effort possible 5 minute max long workout and affirm that it's enough for you to lose weight and get your dream body.

that way your inherit belief that to manifest something you have to take action is satisfied, and when your beliefs are satisfied and you are aligned with them, they manifest. it's simple maths. i'll remind you again that manifestation is built on belief.

work with your mind instead of against it, don't pressure yourself and don't approach manifesting in a way that feels like you are punishing yourself for who you are. do things that soothe you and your doubts. there's no such thing as limiting beliefs.

THE LAW IS PERSONAL

another thing that may be causing you to struggle with manifestation is that when you first get to know the law, you are introduced to a bunch of concepts that seem entirely made up like the 3d, the 4d, the void state, etc.. it feels like just a bunch of unnecessary things that complicate existence and life. and in a way they kinda are.

i think something we've entirely forgotten in the loa community is that the law is unique to each person. we've all been parroting the same methods and acting like they are guaranteed fixed methods and that's completely false. again, manifestation is built on belief, and everyone's beliefs are different. what might work for someone else might not work for you and that's because their beliefs aren't the same as yours. and again, that's completely okay.

if you're someone who's been trying to enter the void state but still havent succeeded, chances are deep down you don't really believe in it. and that's okay. this is not to say you think that whoever says they entered the void state is lying, not at all, you can believe in something without believing it's possible for you. the same way you can believe that something bad is possible but not for you. this is another one of the basics we've forgotten about in the loa community.

you don't have to force yourself to believe you already have your desires if deep down you don't really believe that. you don't have to be harsh on yourself. you don't have to go through mental gymnastics. it's not the only way to manifest.

the law is whatever you decide it is.

SO HOW DO I MANIFEST NOW?

forget about everything you've ever learned or read about on here, and take a moment to yourself and really dissect your mind. make a list of all your personal beliefs, yes even the ones you were told were "limiting beliefs", and don't let the pressure of somebody potentially reading it and telling you it's wrong influence you. be completely honest with yourself. when you're done with your list, make up your own law that aligns with your beliefs and practice it. the only belief you need to have is that manifestation is possible.

ENDING NOTE

i have so much more to say about manifestation but i fear we would be here for a century. i just think it's time we acknowledge the real reasons why there's still people who struggle with manifesting and acknowledge that some things that are difficult to wrap your head around arent really necessary. my point is manifestation is whatever you want it to be. please don't misunderstand me.

[k0kichiimagines]

i hate writing cvs and teachers r useless at help i love them and i appreciate it but "i have no skills to put on my cv what should i put" - "aww no everyone has skills just think of something"

[navybrat817]

Mr. and Mrs. Barnes

Pairing: Husband!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Summary: Bucky suggests sneaking off at the gala. How can you resist?

Word Count: Over 3k

Warnings: Unprotected v. sex, sex in a closet, dirty talk, possessiveness, established relationship, slight insecurities, mention of breeding, slight feels (it's me), Bucky Barnes and he's a simp for you (he's a warning, okay?).

A/N: Sorry, lovelies. I just really wanted this. Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

Bucky didn’t bother to hide his discontent as he looked around at the ballroom. Was it a gala? Fundraiser? What cared? He hated functions like these. People were either there to kiss ass and move up the chain of command or gloat about how well off they were in life under the guise that they were doing good for others. He didn't attempt to converse with any of them, but still had to go as a way to support SHIELD in some capacity and show that he was no longer the Winter Soldier.

At least Steve and Sam were excused from the event due to a mission.

Leaning against one of the pillars and tugging at his bowtie, he spaced out momentarily. No one looked his way, but he still felt judged. Like he didn’t just belong at the event, but amongst anyone. He wanted to go home, get out of his tuxedo, and get the product out of his slicked back hair. He debated sneaking away from some air until he blinked and saw the reason he was truly there: you, the only real person in the crowd of liars and cheaters.

He never understood the expression of clothes clinging to someone like a second skin until you stepped into your floor-length black dress earlier this evening, the fabric enhancing every beautiful curve of your body. His eyes narrowed as you moved around the room and exchanged smiles and handshakes with people. Your aura drew people to you, men brushing against you and their stares lingering for far too long. It served as another reminder of why he didn’t want to go tonight, especially when a General gripped your arm.

If he had a glass in his hand it would’ve shattered.

Convincing you to stay in bed didn't work since you both had to make an appearance, but it didn't mean he wanted you apart from him. “Get over here,” he whispered, craving your attention, needing you close.

As if you sensed him seeking you out, likely feeling the weight of his stare, you turned to meet his gaze across the room. Your eyes sparkled with love that he never thought he’d receive in his lifetime. The kind of love he never wanted to be without again. “Would you please excuse me?” You asked loud enough for him to catch as you removed your arm from the man’s grip. “My husband is waiting for me.”

Your hips swayed as you worked your way toward Bucky, not stopping for any other man who tried to catch your eye. Hearing you call him your husband brought the first smile to his face since he arrived. He still couldn’t believe some days that you wanted forever with him. “I was wondering when my beautiful wife would remember I was here,” he said once you were close enough, reaching out for your hand.

The moment you took it, he stood tall and pulled you against him. He was certain no one else came close to the intimidating vibe he put out, his hold on you possessive as you smiled. “As if I could forget. Practically heard you growling when General Rando touched my arm,” you teased.

“Because he has no right to touch you,” he said, your lashes fluttering as you spun away. His hands guided you back to him. “I know you’re better with people than I am, which is why you’re the one who has to socialize and I’m sorry for that. But you also said I’m not allowed to break any fingers tonight and I won't be held responsible if he tries to touch you again.”

He swore he didn’t have a possessive bone in his body until you sauntered into his life, giving him hopes and dreams and longing.

You laughed at him, a seductive sound that had a few heads turning. “You do know I can break his fingers myself, right?”

He chuckled, leaning close to your ear and tickling your skin with his breath. “I know you're more than capable of kicking his ass. One of your many wonderful qualities,” he whispered. People underestimated you and that was always a mistake. “But I still don't like that he touched you like he wanted to own you.”

You rang a finger along his bowtie. “We all know who owns me and we know I own you, too,” you said, holding up your hand to show him your wedding ring. He tried to ignore how fast his heart pounded at the sight of his ring on your finger, the pledge you two made together. “In a very healthy, non-toxic sort of way, of course.”

He smirked, glancing around at the crowd before looking back at you. “Of course, but maybe we could give everyone a friendly reminder that we’re a happily married and loyal couple.” His voice dropped lower, teasingly. He wanted to make your heart race like his. “Or maybe we could sneak away for a bit. Make this night a little more interesting.”

“Sneak away?” You feigned innocence as you blinked at him. He was certain any innocence you had before he met you was gone thanks to him. “Whatever for?”

“You know what for. It’ll be like that expo we went to a few months ago.” Bucky tilted his head slightly, studying your face closely. He easily picked up your sharp inhale, the way your pupils dilated and lips parted. It was clear that sneaking off was something that very much interested you. “C’mon, baby. This gala is boring and neither of us want to be here. My idea is much more fun. You know it is.”

He touched your cheek, your skin warm under his hand. He wasn’t able to keep you in bed earlier like he wanted, but the thought of pulling you away and having you right here and now had his stomach fluttering with excitement. “This gala is boring,” you agreed carefully.

“Then let’s make it exciting.” His thumb brushed across your lips and it took everything in him not to push his thumb inside. “You made me come to this thing. Don’t I deserve something for showing up and behaving?”

“I haven't made you come yet.” His muscles went taut when you briefly sucked the digit into your mouth, electricity crackling under his skin. He admired your boldness, how you were unashamedly yourself in front of these people. You didn't and would never care what they thought. “And I didn't make you come to this event, but I can make it worth your while.”

He held your chin and moved close until only an inch separated your faces. Your eyes gleamed with a hunger that rivaled his. The air crackled between you, daring you both to give over to your obvious desires. “And how exactly do you plan to do that?” He rasped when you suddenly pulled back and helped move him across the floor in a dance.

“My plan? I thought sneaking away was your idea,” you smiled, guiding you both closer to the open doorway. “But if we can find a closet or dark corner, you can do whatever you want with me. And I’ll even let you fuck my throat first thing tomorrow morning for behaving.”

A rumbling, deep groan escaped his throat. His fingers dug in possessively when he gripped the nape of your neck and tilted your head so he could taste your skin. Your body molding against his, soft and yielding against his solid frame, wasn’t enough. There were too many clothes in the way and he wanted to bury himself deep inside you.

“You drive me crazy, Mrs. Barnes,” he whispered, lifting his head to look into your eyes.

“The feeling is mutual, Mr. Barnes.” You bit your lip once he waltzed you for enough away from prying eyes, the heat flaring between you. “I need you.”

Every nerve ending came to life when he claimed your mouth in a searing kiss. His tongue plunged past your lips, holding you steady as he devoured you. You melted against him, which only brought forth his primal hunger more. His intensity never scared you and he would be forever thankful for that.

You gasped as your back hit a wall, the sounds of chatter and music from the ballroom muffled. Your nails scraped the fabric of his jacket, both of you lost in sensations of lust and desire. As one of your hands continued its journey to his shoulder, the other wandered down his torso and didn’t stop until you gripped his thick erection through his pants.

He abruptly broke the kiss when you gave him a squeeze, his eyes wild. “Fuck,” he breathed, gripping your wrist and pushing more firmly against your hand. “You feel that? That’s what you do to me.”

With dizzying speed, he spun you so that your back pressed against his front. You panted as his hand ventured through the slit of your dress and brushed along your trembling thigh. “Wait until you feel how wet I am,” you whispered, grinding your hips back against his.

His mouth brushed the exposed column of your throat, alternating between small bites and open mouthed kisses. “Still get wet for me?” He asked, massaging your breast with his vibranium hand and drawing another gasp from you when he pinched your nipple. He marveled at how much he could feel with that hand and how he’d never harm you with it.

“Have you seen yourself? One look from you and I’m soaked.” Your back arched as he bit down again. He wished he saw himself the way you did. “And you’re my husband. That craving for you isn’t going away.”

He rocked his hips against yours, seeking out more contact and friction as his cock throbbed and heart swelled. Marriage wasn’t a constant honeymoon phase. It took work. Effort. Compromise. But you were worth every moment, every struggle, every up and down.

Laughter from a few feet away had him lifting his head, both of you looking toward where the noise was coming from. “Fuck,” he snarled, wanting to scream at whoever it was to go the fuck away.

“There’s a closet around the corner. We just need to pick the lock,” you told him, smiling over your shoulder. “I may have scoped out the place in case this happened.”

He chuckled, utterly in awe of you. “I fucking love you,” he exhaled.

Walking with an aching hard-on wasn’t easy, but he managed to get you both further away from the ballroom. He picked the lock with record speed once you got to the door and moved you both inside. He flipped on the light, wanting to see as much of you as he could. For a moment, you two stared at each other and waited for the other to make a move. He loved the anticipation.

“I’m disappointed in you, Mr. Barnes,” you said, reaching for the doorknob to lock it. He was about to ask what he possibly did to upset you when you smirked. “You didn’t mention anything about me not wearing any panties.”

His cock was ready to burst from his pants. “Because that fucking clown out there interupted me,” he rumbled, pinning you against the door and crowding your body. His nose touched yours as he hiked your dress up, desperate to kiss you again. Eager to feel your wetness. “You trust me?”

It was a question he always asked. You put all of yourself into his care, your body, mind, heart, and soul. It was only fair that he made sure you still wanted him to be the one for you today, tomorrow, and every day after that. Even then a single lifetime would never be enough for him. He wanted a thousand lives with you.

“Always,” you said, an ache in your voice that he couldn’t resist. He fused his lips with yours, building up the fire all over again when his hand found your damp heat. The most intimate part of you where you allowed him to make himself at home. Your hands shook as you went to undo his pants, wanting to free him. “And you trust me?”

It wasn’t just his heart that contracted. His very soul trembled, wanting to wrap itself up in your light and love. “With everything in me,” he promised, sighing when he pulled his cock free from his underwear. “I’ll worship you later. Those gorgeous tits of yours. Your sweet cunt.”

Once you were home, he’d slip off your dress and give every beautiful inch of your body the attention it deserved. He’d draw a bath for you, too, and hopefully join you so he could simply hold you. But he was desperate for you now. He thought he’d burn if he didn’t have you.

You hiked a leg around him, moving your hips enticingly. There was only so much he could take. And who wouldn’t fall under the tempting spell of your body? “I’m ready for you.” Your soft moan echoed in his ears as he trailed a finger along your slit to your clit, barely touching it. He knew it would shoot small sparks through your body until you begged for more. “I mean it, Barnes. Get. Your cock. In me.”

“My needy little wife,” he whispered against your lips as he gripped the base of his cock and probed your entrance. The breathy sound you made when he began to push in had his blood pulsing in euphoria. It was a wonder he fit some days with how tight you were, but your slick heat stretched and welcomed him every time.

“My needy husband,” you smiled as you enveloped him completely, your fingers curling in his hair.

“What kind of man isn’t needy for his wife?” He began to thrust in deep, deliberate strokes. It matched the rhythm of the music in the distant ballroom, the two of you creating your own sultry dance. Maybe he would go up in flames. At least he’d have you to burn with. “Fuck, your body was made for my cock.”

Each snap of his hips tore more moans and whimpers from your throat and sent shockwaves through his system. You clenched around him with a smile, looking like a debauched angel. “My pussy was made for you, so ruin it.”

He groaned, his pulse beating strongly as his grip tightened on your hips. He fucked you without restraint, just as greedy for you as you were for him. Allowing himself to feel you and what you did to him was everything he was denied for so long. His life had only been order. Pain. You let him lose control. You gave him pleasure. Even a home.

I love you.

“I love you, too, Bucky,” you panted, brushing a thumb over his cheekbone as his eyes closed against the emotions threatening to surface. “I love you, too.”

His pace picked up, urgent, frenzied. At this rate, he might explode into fragments from your declaration and how good you felt. “You love me?” He bit out, his eyes opening and breaths harsh as he felt you clench again.

You cried out, his hand flying up to brace your head before it hit the door. “So much,” you moaned as you gazed at him. You were the most beautiful person he had ever seen. Fierce in love and loyalty, patient and steadfast. He feared some days he’d need you more than you needed him, but you drove that thought from his mind. “I’m yours.”

“I’m not gonna last,” he warned. He couldn’t with the way you looked at him, the way your walls gripped him, knowing you were his.

“Neither am…” Your mouth fell open as your release hit you, your fluids drenching him. It was a wonder to watch you go over the edge in a blissful orgasm. He wanted to be right there with you.

“There you go. Good girl,” he encouraged, your body still tight around his cock. He erupted in one last thrust, his head falling back with an animalistic roar. “Fuck…”

Bucky braced a hand against the door, the other holding you like a lifeline. If only the two of you were at home so he could properly cuddle with you. His breathing remained ragged for a bit as he came down from his high, your breathing beginning to steady, too. He couldn't help but smile as he took in the sight of you thoroughly ravaged and satisfied. “Worth every second of being here,” he sighed, slowly pulling out of your twitching hole. You inhaled when he moved a hand down and swiped two fingers along the mess seeping out of you. “Clean them off for me, baby,” he ordered huskily, bringing them to your mouth.

Obediently, you parted your lips and allowed him to push his fingers in. You swirled your tongue around them to taste your combined essence, moaning at the tangy flavor. He tucked himself away once you finished up, afraid that he’d fuck you all over again if he didn’t get completely dressed. It didn’t stop him from gazing longingly at you as he fixed his jacket.

And it didn’t stop him from imagining your mouth around his cock the next morning.

“Now.” You grimmaced slightly as he helped you steady yourself and straighten out your dress. He knew that look. It was the look you got for a split second whenever the sticky remnants continued to trickle down your thighs. He loved having that claim on you. “How do you expect me to go back to the gala after that?”

“I don’t,” he smirked, his hands moving back to your hips as he snuck in a gentle kiss. “I think it’s time to get you home and back in our bed where you belong. I promised I’d worship you, remember?”

You nodded, your eyes still slightly dazed. “On one condition.”

He titled his head. “What’s that?”

A slow smile curved your mouth, his heart pounding and cock twitching back to life at your answer, “You put a baby in me tonight.”

So, lovelies, was it okay? I feel rusty. And who wants a future fic of Bucky breeding you? Just me? Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[thyme-in-a-bubble]

just for tonight

a/n: sure, I was vigilantly working on a different wip (a very long one that needed a lot of strength to get through) but then this whole fantasy came to me and i just couldn't stop myself... at least i downgraded the idea from a full-fledged series (which i sadly very much do not have the time for) to just a slutty little one shot in an au that i can always pop back into whenever the itch pops up (or when anyone has a slutty request for it hehe).

summary: before you could even consider the possible consequences, a desperate request then fell from your lips, “well, what if I’m not asking you to be with me? What if it’s just for tonight? What if I’m only asking you to be with me for one night? Would you give me that?” you blinked up at him, scarcely breathing at all, “would you be mine just till the sun comes up?” 

warnings: bodyguard!bucky barnes x reader, smut, reader's mom is the british ambassador to france, age gap (10-15 years), tattooed!bucky (both a metal arm and tattoos as picked in a poll by you), beefy!bucky, forbidden romance, posh political party, alcohol consumption, wet dream, lingerie, stockings, one night stand (except we already know those fools can't keep it to just one night), kissing, dirty talk, manhandling, size kink, oral, fingering, impact play, squirting, gaping, belly bulge, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, creampie

word count: 4907

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“You sure, you don’t want some?” you squinted over at your bodyguard as you lowered the champagne flute from your lips, “this shit costs more than my dress, which is really saying something,” you pointed to the red silk gown that hung from your frame, “this is Dior.”

“I’m good, miss,” Bucky uttered, tight-lipped as always. 

“Right, sorry,” you sat the glass down at the tall table you stood beside, “can’t drink while on duty.”

Posh parties such as the one tonight were always a bit of a drag to get through. Even though you’d been hauled along for most of your life, they’d never gotten any more amusing. 

But when your mother hired Barnes to be your personal bodyguard a few months back, the thought of getting dolled up just to have a bunch of provoking politicians talk your ear off about ideas you’d never in a million years support, somehow didn’t seem as bad as it used to now that he was constantly at your side. 

It had been a little incident involving your phone getting hacked, an explicit video nearly getting leaked, one that had been made for an ex who lived in another country to make the distance more barrable, and a few threatening messages from the perpetrator that had been the reason for your new shadow. 

Though you’d been resistant at first, storming into your mother’s office to state that you were a grown woman and didn’t need a babysitter just because someone tried to exploit an old sex tape that in your opinion wasn’t even that big of a deal, swiftly got squashed when a then stranger cleared his throat behind you and shared the more gruelling threats that had been made alongside the hacking. 

You’d hoped and prayed that he’d turn out to be a pain, that his personality could squash the feelings that fluttered inside of you whenever you looked at him, but unfortunately, he wasn’t an asshole. He was quiet, professional to a fault, but he wasn’t a dick. If anything, all of the silence and all of the glances to always keep track of you made the crush worse. It made you feel as if you were in a Jane Austen novel, reading between the lines of subtext your unreliable brain came up with.

“You tired?” he asked as a yawn rolled out of you. 

“Mhm,” you hummed behind the palm you had brought up to your lips. 

“The car’s ready to take you back to the embassy whenever you are.” 

A grateful smile twitched at your lip as you offered him a small nod of confirmation, “I’ll just go tell my mom.”

The ambassador, your mother, had her back turned to you as she talked business with a small group of people even though the hour had grown late. 

You waited for a sliver of a break before you tapped her on the shoulder and whispered in her ear.

“Hey, mom?” her palm found yours as she turned to look at you, “I’m gonna head home.”

“Oh, alright,” she leaned in and pressed a small peck to your cheek, “see you tomorrow, love.”

“Bye,” you gave her hand one last squeeze before heading out of the elegant venue, your guard still only a few paces behind you. 

A dusty drizzle met your skin as you exited onto the midnight streets of Paris. The sensation made you want to walk home, though you still followed Bucky to the black car already waiting and slipped in when he opened the back door for you. 

The light from the city reflected on the back of his metal hand as it gripped the steering wheel. You could faintly spot the prominent veins on the other one dance beneath the inked skin as it did the same, tattoos you still ached to discover just how far they stretched beneath his dark suit. 

Though soon your gaze flickered away from his silhouette as he drove, and fluttered out to the glittering cityscape rolling by, the vision of which swiftly lulled you to sleep. 

When you arrived home, Bucky’s steely eyes found your slumbering form in the rear-view mirror. You didn’t rouse when he opened your door and carefully picked you up into his arms. You didn’t wake either as he carried you inside, all the way up to your bedroom, and layed you down on your bed. 

Gently, he removed your heels and quietly placed them down on the hardwood floor before he grabbed your duvet and tugged it over your form. 

But just as he moved to leave your side, half asleep you caught his hand.

“Don’t go…” you murmured hazily, eyes still shut. 

And so, he didn’t.

Bucky simply reached for the tufted chair nearby and, as silently as he could, scooted it closer to the bed. 

Barely an hour passed before you woke. 

Before you even blinked open your eyes, your fingers began to slide down your body as the sinful dream you’d been blessed with still lingered in your foggy brain. 

Though when your eyes did flutter open and discovered the star of the dream sitting in a chair right next to you, your hand halted its voyage, and you sucked in a startled breath. 

“You okay?” he asked softly as you blinked a few times. 

“Uh,” the throbbing that still lingered from the dream probably wasn’t going to fade any faster with him sitting there with his unwavering stare, “yeah, I’m–, uhm…” you propped yourself up on your elbow before sitting up more, “I’m fine.” 

“Did you have a nightmare?”

“No, it wasn’t a–…” your sentence then crumbled as you sucked in a breath, “what are you doing watching me sleep?”

As you met his gaze, he then uttered, “you asked me to stay.”

Your eyes then widened, “I did?”

“Yeah.”

“Oh…” though you couldn’t recall, heat still began to bloom on your cheeks, “I’m sorry, I didn’t–”

“It's alright,” his shoulders offered a faint shrug. 

Averting your gaze, you noticed that you were still in your dress. You weren’t quite sure if it pleased you or not that Bucky didn’t try to strip it off you, though it was probably less the moral intentions and more the fantasy of him peeling it off of you that swayed you. 

“Were you just planning on sleeping in that chair all night?” you asked. 

“No,” he shook his head, “I wasn’t planning on sleeping at all.” 

A tinge of guilt stung in your chest, “I’m really sorry, I don’t know what I was thinking, I must have been asleep or something…” you then swung your legs over the side of the bed and got up. As your fingers raised up to pluck off your sparkling earrings, your feet began to carry you in the direction of your wardrobe. Dropping the jewellery off in a small porcelain bowl on the opposite bedside table, you then glanced back at your bodyguard and said, “you don’t have to stay any longer, you can go back to your room and get some sleep.” 

Offering you a nod, he then began to walk towards the door. 

Though, as you reached back to undo your dress, you abruptly uttered, “wait,” and he stopped before his steely fingers could enclose around the door handle. Turning to glance back at you, a bold request then hesitantly fell from your lips, “could you maybe help unzip me?”

He barely made a noise, simply hummed quietly in response before his slow stride carried him towards your frame as it twisted for your back to be turned to him.

When you felt his touch on the zipper, tugging it down ever so slowly, your breath came in ragged, and your eyes fluttered shut. You swore you felt his radiating heat seep into you as he exposed more of your goosebump-ridden spine. 

As the straps tumbled over your shoulders, your hands came up to your chest to hold it up even though you wished for nothing more than to let it drop before him.

And when the zipper finally reached its end, he lingered right behind you just long enough for you to catch the tether of it. Slowly, as if you were dealing with a skittish bird, you rotated around. You didn’t dare to look him in the eyes as you let yourself follow that magnetic pull you’d been trying to keep at bay. Your gaze flickered up to his lips as heated puffs of air seeped from your lungs and you slowly, hypnotically, inched closer. 

But then Bucky opened his mouth and said in a soft and quiet tone, “what are you doing?” making you halt, though not pull back. 

“Please don’t act like you don’t already know… I know you do…”

“You can’t,” he uttered, though didn’t move to walk away either as he captured your gaze, “we can’t, alright?”

“Why not?” you breathed, your eyes returning to his lips, “is it really that important for you to stay professional over everything else? Or is it that I’m just a job to you?” your heart felt as if it was gonna beat straight out of your chest, “you know I like you, I know you do. You notice everything, so of course you know. Am I right?”

A long exhale then flowed from his lungs before the faintest of nods tilted his head, “…yeah.”

“And I have eyes too, I’ve seen the way you look at me,” a shiver trickled down your spine, “so, are you really gonna just stand there and pretend you don’t feel something too? Just go back to your own room and continue to protect me like nothing’s going on?”

“Y/n, I can’t be with you,” he shook his head heavily, “you know I can’t.” 

Can’t or won’t?

Before you could even consider the possible consequences, a desperate request then fell from your lips, “well, what if I’m not asking you to be with me? What if it’s just for tonight? What if I’m only asking you to be with me for one night? Would you give me that?” you blinked up at him, scarcely breathing at all, “would you be mine just till the sun comes up?” 

As if your quiet whispers melted him completely, your bodyguard breathed, “…fuck…” and the next thing you knew, he’d grabbed your face and seized your lips. 

It was like something inside of him had snapped, something you had shattered, with the way that he kissed you as if he’d been drowning and your lips were oxygen. 

As you lost yourself in the sensation of his tongue dancing across your own, you let the red dress drop down your body, passed the sheer stockings that clung around your thighs, to the floor. Like fire, one of his hands disappeared from your cheek and ran down your frame, grazing over the black lingerie that was now exposed.  

Though heated and hungry at first, the kiss soon softened into lighter pecks. 

With his metal hand, he held your face close to his as he withdrew from the kiss, an action you weren’t quite ready for as you dreamily trailed after him a bit, longing for his lips. 

“Are you sure this is what you want?” his hot breath fanned across your features. 

“Yes,” you whispered swiftly. 

But as you dizzily blinked up at him, he simply hummed for you to elaborate, “hm?”

“Yes, I want you,” goosebumps tingled across your skin. 

“You want me to what?” his thumb swiped over your cheekbone. 

“I want you to–, to–…” you fumbled as you felt your desire drip and soak your panties, making them cling to your aching core. 

“To what, huh?” 

“To–… fuck me,” the embarrassingly desperate words tumbled out your mouth. 

“You want me to fuck you?” his unwavering stare briefly dropped to your parted lips.

“Yes,” the syllable rushed out of you. 

“Say it again,” he tilted his chin. 

“I want you to fuck me.”

“Louder,” his feet began to shift, causing yours to shuffle back as well. 

“I want you to fuck me.”

“One more time,” his hand had dropped down to your jaw and his fingers curled slightly to dent your soft cheeks. 

“I want you to fuck me, please!” 

With the hold he had on you, he swiftly dipped down and pressed his lips to yours once more. The world then fell out from under you as his grasp scooped down your frame and plucked you up.

Your arms tangled around his neck right before your back collided with the closet door and your lips tilted away from his as a short squeak slipped out. The distance however lent Bucky to let his kisses dance down the length of your neck and across your cleavage, so perfectly framed by the sheer fabric of your bra. 

Though the hickeys he began to plant across your skin made your eyes roll in your skull, your fingers still captured his tie and tugged him back up for your lips to crash against his. As you moved to push his blazer off, his sturdy grip on you shifted though still held you close as the jacket fell from his burly frame and your palms swiftly scooped over his broad shoulders and down his chest, now one layer closer to letting you actually get to feel the furnace roiling beneath.

Cupping his face close, whimpers seeped out of you and vibrated against his lips as his fingers dug into your ass and rubbed your barely covered cunt over the palpable tent in his pants, your want surely drenching through your thin underwear and marking him as well. 

You almost didn’t realise that Bucky had moved till he dropped you down on the bed. Taking a step back, his tongue briefly flicked across his breathless lips as his fingers lifted to tug his tie off. 

Staring directly into your soul, he uttered, “take your bra off,” as he tossed the tie to the floor and your fingers scrambled to fulfil his request. When you flung the lingerie to the ground, right next to his crumbled tie, the cool night air kissed your pebbly nipples and Bucky let out a murmured curse right before bending down to press his lips to yours. 

Balanced on your elbows, you parted your lips and let his tongue sweep across your own. His touch coasted down your frame, barely granting your tits any attention before his grasp hooked around your thighs and yanked you closer to the edge of the mattress. A surprised yelp escaped you at first at the sudden shift, but as the sting of saliva, that had lingered and connected you from your sloppy kiss, snapped back against your skin, the short cry morphed into a fizzy giggle. 

The light laugh however faded away when you watched him sink to his knees at the foot of the bed. Your legs curled up even further on either side of you, though you weren’t quite sure if that was you or him pushing them up and cracking you open that much more. You could feel his breath hit your pantie-clad core as his gaze fixated on the soaked spot right over your puff. 

When his palm slid up your inner thigh, he only had to reach out his thumb for the broad pad to ghost over your covered slit. His eyes swiftly flickered up to capture yours, checking your reaction as you began to squirm from his feathery light touch. 

Hooking his finger in the gusset, he pulled it to the side and a glossy string stretched out and clung to the fabric as he revealed your glistening pussy. 

A breathy moan billowed out of you as he began to touch you, rolling your little pearl beneath his touch. Finding your eyes once more, he held your gaze as he then leaned down to press a gentle kiss over your clit. 

“This okay?” his voice vibrated against your bundle of nerves, making you twitch. 

“Mhm,” you nodded foggily, “you can do anything you want.”

“Anything?” his lips twitched into a smirk as his fingers stretched from where they were clutching your panties to brush over your button.

“Yeah,” you breathed, “fucking anything.” 

Your mouth then hung agape at the sight of him dipping down to ruthlessly taste your desire. It didn’t take long before he lost himself in you so fiercely that he momentarily leaned back only to rip your underwear off. Both of his hands curved around your bottom, raking across your skin as he drew you even closer to his tongue and dragged it through your wet folds.

Bumping his nose against your clit, he let himself make out with your cunt a moment longer before planting a farewell peck over your pearl and pulling back. A dollop of spit dropped from his lips down onto your pussy. Catching the drop with his fingers before it slid away, he rubbed it into your own juices and made you that much more of a mess. 

“O-oh,” you moaned as he slowly slid a long finger into you after teasing your weepy entrance enough to make you shiver. 

“Fuck, you’re so wet,” he groaned at the soppy sounds his efforts conjured.

Craning down to kiss your clit sloppily, Bucky then slid his ring finger in beside the other, curving them gently as he reached even deeper. 

When he momentarily retracted his digits to land a small tap over your puffy petals, the smile that bloomed on your face only egged him on further. Plugging you back up, he then retracted and repeated the slap though with more ferocity. 

Your head began to lull a bit as he brought his vibranium digits down to roll your clit and his fingers began to fuck you harder, not faster, but with an intent that made your pussy sing for him. 

With your thighs trembling, they nearly slammed shut as you felt the end near, but your bodyguard only slid his strong metal forearm over your legs, hooking it right under both of your bent knees, to keep you spread nice and open for him. 

The veins on the back of his inked hand popped from how fiercely his fingers rocked within you. 

Stretching his thumb up to strum your clit, he tried to sneak a third finger inside of you as he felt your walls begin to flutter around him. 

“That’s it, I’ve got you,” as he always did in every manner, evidently. A smile curved at his lips as your eyes fluttered closed and a symphony of moans flowed out of you with every last tender stroke he offered you to carry you over the edge, “atta girl.”

Melted against the sheets, you caught your breath as he planted one last peck on your inner thigh before standing back up. 

Slowly, with his gaze ever glued on you, he unbuttoned his shirt, gradually revealing the silver shine of the dog tags that hung from his neck and the tattoos that sprawled across his skin. Going all the way up from the hand still shiny with your essence, the ink swirled up his right arm, across his pecs, down his back and even curved over to his left shoulder and intentionally tangled into the gnarly scares sprouting from the border of his prosthetic. 

When the button-up hit the floor, his fingers drifted down to unhurriedly remove his belt, pulling it out of the loops, he let it join the shirt before he undid his pants and let his cock spring free. 

“Jesus christ…” your jaw couldn’t help but drop to the floor as your eyes fluttered at the intimidating reveal. 

Noticing the anxiety that peeked through your lust-ridden expression, his low voice found your ears, “what? Did you change your mind?” 

“No, I just–…” you couldn’t tear your eyes away from his fat cock as it throbbed before you, “I got a bit nervous all of a sudden.” 

“No reason to be nervous, baby,” he breathed out a smile as his fist curled around his girth.  

“Oh really?” you nearly began to laugh. 

“You’ll be fine,” drool threatened to escape the corner of your lips as he slowly began to stroke himself, “trust me.” 

“Really? Because I’m not so sure I’ll be able to take that…” 

“You will,” he uttered calmly as he dipped down to give you a kiss, “don’t worry,” a hand slid into your hair as he cradled your face and ushered your gaze to find his, “you know I’d never hurt you, right?”

“Yeah.”

“So, you’ll be fine,” his thumb curved to sweep over your cheek a few times. 

“Yeah,” you gently nodded and repeated after him, “I’ll be fine.”

“That’s my girl,” he smiled. Kissing you once more, he then pressed a peck to your forehead before his grasp found your hips and he suddenly flipped you around, onto your stomach. 

Helping you up onto your hands and knees, a hazy smile stretched across your features as he bent down over you and pressed kisses all along your spine. Dragging his bulbous tip through your sopping folds, he then teased you for so long, never granting you any more than a dizzying nudge, that whines began to escape from you.

“P-please,” you heard yourself beg as your fingers bunched up the sheets. 

“What?” he continued to flick and tap your swollen clit with the head of his heavy cock.

“I–I want it–, plea–, please fuck me,” you blubbered desperately. 

“Oh, now you want it, huh?” you could hear the smirk that dominated his face, “suddenly not so nervous anymore about me stretching you out, are you?”

“Bucky, plea–, o-oh–,” you felt your limbs tremble beneath you as he slipped the very tip inside. 

His efforts were so slow at first, gradually giving you more of his length and just shallowly fucking you till you blossomed and opened up for him. 

Gradually, his thrusts began to ease from a mind-numbingly slow pace to something that truly scrambled your brain. You soon lost yourself completely to the molten sensation of his fat girth steadily splitting you open. 

Though when he finally bottomed out within you, a shrill gasp slipped out passed your lips and your frame shuttered beneath him. 

Drawing his hips back just enough for you to regain the ability to fill your lungs with oxygen once more, you heard him murmur in your ear, “what, is it too much dick for you?” retraining his thrusts slightly, he kept his tip from kissing your cervix, “that better or is it still too deep for you?” his hands dented your hips.

“N-no, no, it feels so good, it’s just–,” a whimper slipped out of you and broke up your slurring, “you’re so fucking big, I’ve never–,” you felt like you could feel him all the way up in your throat, “no one’s ever been that fucking deep before.”

One of his hands curved down to your clit at the exact same time as your own did. As they met, he let your own fingers swirl over your puffy pearl as his simply lingered, till he suddenly grasped your wrist and gently led it away from your pussy, further up to your lower stomach. 

“That deep?” he pressed down on your palm and let you discover the dull bulge that formed in your belly at every one of his dizzying thrusts, “has no one ever stuffed you that full before? Not even one of your pretty toys you play with so often?”

“Nuh-uh,” you panted as his warm contact dissipated from your spine and he straightened back up. 

A gravelly moan slipped out past Bucky’s lips as he glanced down to see how tightly your creamy pussy was gripping onto his cock. Your fingers returned to the sheets as his wide palm came down to slap your ass, your back arching at the impact and consequently angling his efforts so that the details of his dick brushed against your g-spot in the most heavenly way imaginable. 

He only buried himself inside of you a few more times, his heavy sack tapping against your buzzing clit at every electric buck, till your pussy gushed around his fat girth. 

“There you go,” he pulled out only to insistently flick your puffy pearl with his tip, “fucking hell,” he then plunged his cock all the way back in before dragging it back out, “keep going,” ushering more squirt to drizzle out. He kept up the overwhelming pattern till your pussy stopped gushing for him, till he’d pushed you through the overstimulation and your cunt slowly began to relax again for him. Eventually, when he steadily withdrew from you, he craned his neck to relish in the way your little hole had stretched out and accommodated so well for him, it even winking sinfully at him every time he pulled out, “good fucking girl,” he growled at the sight, “told you so, you’d do just fine,” your shaky frame jolted as he slapped your ass again, “look at you now fucking gaping for me, christ…”

With a ring of your cream staining the base of his cock, he let himself return to your warmth for longer than just a few seconds, fucking you with such ferocity that your pliant form, still molten and unsteady from your second orgasm, collapsed onto the mattress below. 

Though he successfully caught you before you could slip off his cock entirely, he still let you drop down on the bed, though softened the fall for you, before he followed suit. 

The weight of him on top of you felt so comforting and soothed on your tingly skin.

“You okay?” he kissed your cheek before spreading your stocking-clad legs with his own. 

“Hm,” you nodded foggily and felt yourself drool onto the sheets as he squished you further into the mattress.

Your shaky moans filled the bedroom as he slid back inside, “fuck, you feel so good…” sloppily nipping just below your ear before he picked up his pace. 

The chain that dangled from his neck felt cool on your skin and acted as a stark contrast to how hot his body felt pressed against your back. 

“You think you can be a good girl and cum for me again?” he groaned into your ear as his efforts echoed sloppily, “let me feel that pretty pussy squeeze around me one last time?”

“I-I don’t know,” you trembled beneath him, every one of his deep thrusts making you jolt and gasp for air as he was practically splitting you in half. 

“You don’t know?” he sweetly whispered in your ear as he curled his arms under you. One hand slid under your tit and caught your pebbly nipple in a rude pinch while the other soared down to your sore and swollen clit, “can you try for me? Try and cum again,” your eyes had fallen completely shut, so your whole reality had just become Bucky’s reassuring weight, his tantalising efforts, and his sinful whispers that seeped directly into your soul, “try and squirt for me one last time, sweetheart.” 

And so, you did. It didn’t even take that long before you tumbled over one last time and your pussy creamed for him, drenching the already damp sheets beneath you, as he swiftly came as well, throbbing deep within your clenching cunt and filling your little hole up to the brim till it tried to leak and escape around his girth.

His heavy pants faded from your ear as he slowly crawled off of you, cascading a tender trail of kisses all the way down your body till he gently retraced his track of pecks and settled down next to you. Fluttering your eyes open as his palm slid up to your heated cheek, he gazed into your hazy eyes for a moment before leaning in to softly press his lips to your own. 

You wanted to curl in closer to his frame, but your body was so exhausted that you could barely raise your pinkie finger. Fortunately though, as you layed there in wordless wonder, Bucky’s arms draped around you as he scooted in close, hugging you to him and gently caressing your skin as you continued to blink back into his ocean eyes, not uttering a word out of fear that you’d ruin the blissful moment.

After perhaps a small eternity had passed, he briefly raised his head up slightly to catch sight of the small clock on your bedside table. 

“There’s still a few more hours left before the sunrise…” he settled back down beside you.

“Oh, yeah?” a soft smile tilted up your lips as his touch began to travel south. 

“Yeah,” his lips gently parted in a silent moan as his fingers slid through your sore folds. His stare was transfixed on how your brows knitted together and a quiet hiss slipped out of you as he swirled over your sensitivity, playing with the hot load he’d pumped into you as it slowly leaked out, one of his digits too brash not to try and stuff it back inside, “what do you think?” sharing your breath, he inched in and let his nose nuzzle against your own, “do you want me to be yours just a little bit longer or would you rather I’d return to my own bed?” 

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