#retractable roofs for homes

[smartgagan]

The Beauty of Domes in India

Explore the top dome manufacturers in India at Smart Gagan. Discover a wide range of dome structures designed for various applications, from architectural marvels to event spaces.

[architecturalroofingservices1]

Pergoluxe Retractable Fabric Pergola

The Pergoluxe Retractable Fabric Pergola is a type of outdoor structure designed to provide shade and protection from the elements while also allowing for flexibility in terms of opening and closing the covering.

[abconcerns]

Deck - Roof Extensions Ideas for a sizable craftsman backyard deck renovation that includes a roof extension

[bernardsbendystraws]

You Don’t Own Me

P1 P2 P3 P4 P5 P6 P7 P8 P9 P10 P11 P12 P13 P14 P15 P16

Chris Sturniolo lives by his own rules, refusing to be controlled. Some see him as a rebel, a troublemaker—but is that the full truth? Meanwhile, Y/N is focused on making the most of her last year of high school, determined to have a normal teenage experience. But when their worlds collide, they realize they may have more in common than they ever expected.

WARNINGS: Mentions of drinking, drunk driving, dog penises, and more. 

A/N: FIRST CHAPTER OF A NEW SERIES HOES!!!

With love and big tits, Rose

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P1: Dumb Dog Dicks

wc: 1100+

The screech of the tires scratching on the street sends a shiver down my spine, my clammy hands clenching together harder. 

“Assholes,” I mutter, dragging my dirty shoes along the cement. Even the laces are sticky, a bright, unnatural blue staring back at me as I watch the cracks in the sidewalk pass beneath each step. 

It was stupid. Tessa had invited me to the party. I had been excited to have fun, but it wasn’t fun. The vibrant stain on my shoes was definitely from some kind of jungle juice. I hate jungle juice. 

Well, I hate alcohol in general. But jungle juice? That's a different kind of hatred. The entire point of the drink is to mix it with so many add-ins that the alcohol is barely noticeable. Which is why so many people were throwing up at that damn party. 

My house isn’t far. It’s only a couple of streets away from the booze-infested mansion. But it’s far enough to be a different neighborhood. It wasn’t sketchy by any means, I enjoyed the suburbs. The neighbors were nice, but their dogs were even nicer. 

Especially this one. 

“Hi, girl!” I whisper-shout, crouching down to reach my hand through the metal cross-wired fence. A short laugh escapes through my lips as the small dog snorts, licking my hand enthusiastically. 

She’s adorable. I pass her every day on my morning walks. She’s always sunbathing, her eyes glowing like honey in the sunshine. And she’s just a sweetheart. This moment is exactly what I needed after tonight. 

The fence rattles as she tosses herself against it, desperate for more pets. The clatter echoes through the empty streets, making my eyes go wide. 

Looking around, I’m relieved to see nothing but a flickering lamp post. I know walking home alone this late isn’t smart, but it’s still better than letting a drunk guy drive me home. Even though Shawn had promised to stay sober. 

“So dumb,” I mumble, rubbing the dog’s ear–something I know she loves. Although I have pet her countless times, I still can’t get a hold of her collar to read her name. Not that it really matters–she liked being called Cutie. 

“Did you just call my dog dumb?” 

My whole body jolts at the sound of an unfamiliar voice. I quickly retract my hand from the fence, clutching my chest as I gasp for air. 

“Jesus! I–no, no, I was just…” I stand up fast, my eyes dropping to my hands as I smooth down my short skirt. Why does it have to be so cold? “I was talking to myself, sorry,” I huff, giving the dog one last glance before finally looking up. 

A lump forms in my throat as I meet his gaze. Even in the dim light, I can see how bright his eyes are–sharp, piercing. Intimidating. 

“She’s, uh… she’s really cute,” I add, nodding to the dog as I give an awkward smile. 

My forehead crinkles as I watch him cock an eyebrow, his arms unfolding slightly as he gestures toward the dog. “She’s,” he points, clicking his tongue on the roof of his mouth, “-a he.” 

Oh. 

She’s a he. 

“Oh.” My mouth draws into an ‘O’ as I chew the inside of my cheek. I wrap my arms around myself, bracing against the cold breeze that cuts through the air. God, I wish this skirt were longer.

“Yeah.” He reaches for the fence gate, pushing it open and shutting it behind him with a soft clank. “Why are you petting a random dog at…” He glances down at his phone before stuffing it back into his coat pocket. “Nearly two in the morning?” 

The judgemental look on his face makes my fingers twitch. “Not that it’s any of your business, but I was walking home from a party,” I grumble, my tongue pressing against the back of my teeth as I hug my arms closer.

His lips curl slightly. “This late? Are you stupid?”

I clench my teeth, a sharp breath leaving my nose. “I–well—you, ugh.” 

His head tilts, watching me like he’s waiting for me to form a coherent sentence. 

Annoyed, I cross my arms. “What are you doing out so late, hm?” I shoot back, my confidence wavering as he stares at me–completely unfazed. 

My feet shift against the pavement as I drop my posture slightly, glancing away. The flickering street lamp blinks in my peripheral vision, its erratic pattern drawing my gaze to the tall metal post.

“I went for a walk,” he says blankly. 

I slowly turn my head back toward him with a raised brow. “Without your dog?” I gesture toward the so-called ‘he,’ who is now cleaning himself. 

Yep. That’s definitely a boy. 

My shoulders shutter as I recoil slightly, disgust creeping up my spine. 

“Trevor's lazy,” he states.

My ears perk at the name. Trevor. 

A small smile creeps onto my face as Trevor stirs at the mention of his name, wagging his tail slightly. 

Trevour wags his tail half-heartedly before flopping onto his side, done with us both. 

I smirk. “Yeah, he seems real energetic.” 

The guy exhales through his nose, unimpressed. “He has more sense than you, at least. Doesn’t go wandering around at night like an idiot.”

My smirk drops. “Okay, rude.”

He shrugs. “Not rude. Just stating facts.”

I glare. “Well, fact: I’m fine. I walk this way all the time.”

He huffs out a laugh, shaking his head. “Wow. That makes it so much safer.”

I groan, throwing my hands in the air. “You know what? I don’t need a lecture from some random guy who names his dog Trevor.”

His eyes narrow slightly. “What’s wrong with the name Trevor?”

“It’s just—” I glance at the dog, who’s now licking his own paw in oblivious contentment. “It’s very human.”

The guy crosses his arms. “Yeah? Well, Cutie isn’t exactly original.”

My face heats up. “It’s not his real name! I just—ugh, whatever.” I back up toward the sidewalk, rubbing my arms against the cold.

He watches me for a moment before sighing. “Chris.”

I blink. “What?”

“My name. Since you’re so desperate to call me something other than ‘random guy who names his dog Trevor.’”

I hesitate before answering. “Y/N.”

Chris nods once. “Cool.”

There’s a brief, awkward silence. Trevor lets out a loud yawn.

“Well,” I say, shifting on my feet, “enjoy your walk.”

“Enjoy not getting kidnapped,” he retorts.

I scoff but don’t dignify him with another response. Instead, I spin on my heel and march away, my shoes still sticky, my mood somehow worse than it was before.

Behind me, I hear the fence creak, followed by a soft, “C’mon, Trevor.”

I roll my eyes. Chris.

This neighborhood just got a whole lot more annoying.

[messenger-of-babel]

Cracks in The Bedroom

Summary: You've never seen Jay crack before, but when he starts it's more broken than you realise. (Arkham Knight! Jason x reader)

Word Count: 2.7K

Notes: RUSHED EDITS. This is a touch late cause of work so I'm a few hours behind (it's like 12:45am rn). I tried to use game Arkham Knight Jason since I am not 100% across knowing all the nuance for this one and didn't have time to pre-read for it. Warnings for manipulation of story and plot to serve my own selfish devices. Otherwise, back to writing Jason again. Enjoy! (Forgive me for the shambles today but I hope it feeds you regardless)

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You couldn’t tell what had drawn you to Jay when you met, or really what had held you together throughout the last year. He was secretive, he was snappy, and he had anger issues through the roof. He’d blow up at the smallest of things, get stressed and crack within a second. You knew he had trauma; you could see it in his eyes. The way that those baby blues burned with a cold fire, a gripping malice keeping him moving each day. It was written over his skin; in the glimpses of scars he wore that he never let you touch. It was imprinted on the J cut into his cheek, and the way he turned his face away whenever he caught you looking at it.

He disappeared every night and came back beaten and blue, shrugging you off angrily when you try to comfort or tend to his injuries. He wouldn’t tell you where he was, pushing past you with a glare to lock himself in the bathroom. His hands would shake as he walked past you, knuckles clenched and fuse lit. His pain was his kindling, and every night you saw him go to burn himself again. 

People told you that you were crazy, and maybe you were. He wasn’t the best partner, hardly able to give you what you gave back. But you didn’t want to give up on him entirely, not when you could hear the soft sniffles coming from the bathroom late at night, the wavering in his eyes when you ask to give him a hug. His eyes flickered with the urge to give in, a bitter longing you knew all too well, but his mouth formed the words ‘don’t you try’ with a venomous tone that had you retracting your arms to your side every time. 

You loved him despite it all, a soft tenderness whenever you looked at him despite how your brain screamed at for you not to. However, you didn’t know if you could continue your life like this. That’s why tonight you were going to break it off, to free yourself from the man who seemed like he’d rather do anything than stay with you. However, when you come home from your restaurant shift, (not that it was much of a shift with the city being evacuated), keys jangling in the stuck lock, your determination falters.

He is shocked to see you as well, eyes widening and pacing coming to a halt when you enter the living room. Like a deer caught in the headlights he stares at you, fingers twitching nervously. You have a sharp intake of breath as your eyes scan across his body, taking in the suit that clung to his skin. His face had a cut and a new black eye forming on his right side, lip split and beginning to scab over. However, what you were more drawn to was the bat like cowl held loosely in his left hand, and the triangle like logo emblazoned on his chest.

It all makes sense to you now, and you step back at the realisation. You miss the wince that flickers over his face when you fall back from him, his eyes narrowing.

"If you tell anyone, you're dead." he hisses. It scared you, breath hitching in your throat. You shake your head, closing the door quietly behind you.

"I'm not going to tell anyone. I'm not going to hurt you." you try to stay calm and approach him, but he begins to pace again.

"Like you could hurt me," he scoffs. "You wouldn't even get a chance."

The sneer he sends your way is coated in venom, digging into your heart with needle-like teeth. "What are you going to do now?" he gestures around. "Now that you know? Do you have questions? demands?" he laughs out, but the sound is dry and angry.

"Are you-" you begin, but he waves the helmet towards you aggressively.

"Am I what? the Arkham Knight? a monster? a killer?" he spits out, eyes burning with rage. "Use your eyes, sweetheart." he sneers, tone mocking. "Of course, I am."

"Are you okay?" you finish softly, trying to reach out your hands for him. He stops for only a moment, tensing with confusion. Then he's back to being the Jay you know, harsh and abrasive. he shakes his head, muttering to himself.

"Like you care, like you care!" he grumbles, throwing the helmet to crash against the wall. "You don't care. You just want something from me. You all want something from me." he hisses, breathing beginning to quicken. You shake your head, trying to keep your body language calm so he knows that you mean no harm. Your fingers burn with the urge to grab him softly before he hurts himself, but you know it would probably end up with you crashing over a table. "I don't want anything from you. I want you to be okay, can we just talk?"

He sighs but doesn’t say anything else, jaw clenched as he turns his head away. You'd been around him long enough that you took it as an invitation to get closer.

You managed to lead the both of you over to the couch, sitting with a space in between you both. "Jay, please tell me what’s going on." you ask softly. Your head feels like it's spinning with the information that your partner (you weren't sure if you two ever really became official) was the Arkham Knight that you had only heard rumours of floating around on the sparsely populated streets. As far as you knew he was going after Batman, but it was all rumours.

"Are you...are you injured cause you're fighting the Batman?" you ask softly, wanting to get answers to those rumours without triggering him further. His fists clench in his lap and for a moment you think you won't get past the stone wall you can see him building, but after he exhales, he nods once. You worry the skin of your lip between your teeth. You never really had a problem with Batman. He was doing more for your city than the corrupt police on the street, and despite him being a vigilante and not bound by the rules of the law, you couldn't deny that his presence made you feel safer in your own home.

"Why?" you press softly, hand hovering out. He flinches the close that you bring your hand, but eventually he lets you place your hand over his. Your skin thrums with the contact, something you had been deprived of for so long. His calloused hand warms under your light touch, and he tilts his hand softly till his palm tilts up. He allows your fingers to creep down lower, until you lightly intertwine your fingers with his.

"Because..." he chokes out, and you can see the way his throat bobs. Your heart races a little with panic, never seeing this side of Jay before. You never saw him get upset, only angry. The blinking of his eyes to fight away the tears was new, and the way he hung his head in such defeat. It made you feel like you were watching a pitiful boy wearing the skin of a much older man, and your thumb stroked his hand softly. "Because this was all his fault. Everything. He gave me this..." he whispered out, the rage seeping back into his voice and other hand gripping his knee tightly. His gloved finger points to the 'J' carved into his cheek, and his breathing quickens when he looks you in the eye.

"The Batman did that?" you ask softly, but he shakes his head violently.

"No." he snaps. "But he let someone else do that. He lets someone else cut me and-" he cuts himself off, breathing irregular as he stops to take a big heave. His lips tremble and he tries to keep himself together. He hated this. The anger that he fuelled into tormenting Bruce was draining into despair.

He hated the way you looked at him, with those big eyes that begged him to spill all of his deepest fears to you.

He hated the way his name sounded on your lips, even though you didn't realise that it was only a nickname, not his real name.

He hated the way how his body seemed to buzz under your touch, blood rushing under his skin.

He hated it because he felt that if he let himself surrender to it, if he let you in, that he would never be able to go back again.

"Please Jay," you beg, eyes pleading. "Please just tell me what's going on."

"It's not Jay." he croaks out, hanging his head. "It's Jason." he raises his eyes to meet yours, pitifully looking through his hair. "Jason Todd."

Your hands fly to your mouth, unable to stop the short gasp. You feel a chill run through your body, freezing you to the spot on the couch. "You mean the Jason that-"

"Went missing?" he scoffed. "Yeah. That's what they he wants you to believe. It doesn’t change the fact that he left me there." The man you now know as Jason raises his voice, standing to his feet with hands clenched by his side. "Batman abandoned me!" he shouts, voice deepening.

You jump, seeing the way that his eyes darken. "Jay-"

"Jason!" he shouts, whirling to you. "Don't play the perfect life now. I know it's anything but." he hisses at you. "You were planning on leaving me too."

You falter, and that's all it takes for him to bring his hands to his hair and grip at his face. "I knew it." he spits out. "I knew it, I knew it, I knew it."

You jump to your feet too, indignation rising in your tone. "That's because I don't even know what we are!" you protest back. "We live together but we don't speak, we sleep in the same bed, but we don't touch. I'm tired of not knowing if you even like me back!" you yell, beginning to feel the anger in yourself rise up.

"You're just going to abandon me too!" he yells, face growing red and eyes growing panicked. "You're going to leave me, just like my father!" his voice cracks at that, and he almost doubles over as he staggers backwards. You shake your head, confused.

"You don't make any sense, Jay." you groan, tears prickling at your own eyes. Jason lets out a half scream of frustration.

"Bruce! Bruce left me with him in there and never came looking." He cries. You can see the war in his mind as he struggles to get his breath back, pupil’s swallowing his eyes until the pricks of blue disappear. You know it's bad when you hurry to him ang grab his wrist, getting no response from him. he didn't try to push you off, or flinch as your hands circled his trying to hold him still.

"Bruce? you said Batman left you there. Bruce looked for you! I remember the press statements!" you plead, heart beating frantically and unsure what to do to help. You were so used to him being cold and abrasive, so distant and aloof that to see him break down like this was eerie and panic inducing.

"They're the same! it doesn't matter!" he shouts, breathing getting irregular. With a strong push you manhandle him back down onto the couch, tilting his face up so you can ease his quickened breaths. "All that matters," he swallows thickly trying to get his bearings back. "Is that he left me. and you will too. Now that you know. Now that you know all of me."

You feel the heart thudding in your neck, pulse beating against your skin. You sink to your knees, tears finally falling over your lashes. You head drops until your arms are on his knees, forehead pressing into your skin. You sob softly, defeat weighing in on you. You weren't sure if you could pull him out of this hole that he had dug himself into. If the web of lies he had been spinning had been strung too tightly around your heart and had cut off the circulation. You felt tired and overwhelmed with what he had told you, mind feeling fatigued.

He was no better around you as you reached up to grip his hand, squeezing it. You can't get your voice to say what he wants to hear, can't find the words that will take the paranoia away. You don't know how to get close to him when he keeps lashing out and pushing you away.

 He can barely keep air in his lungs, and his mind is unsure where to focus, but he tries to focus on anything but you at the moment.

Rage?

He was good at that. It made him feel alive, like he had a purpose.

Sadness?

He had already spent enough of his life in sadness, wasting away in that cell when he was locked in Arkham.

Pain?

Jason Todd had endured enough pain to last him several lifetimes over already.

His lips tremble as words pass past them, half conscious as he says them. If he had a better control on his emotions, he would have kept them down like usual, traded them for some scathing remark that would make hurt ripple across your expression.

"I used to be Robin."

You just look up at him blurrily, and he can see in your eyes that you’re scared of him and his sudden vulnerability. His heart aches, but he knows it’s a pain he deserves. He did that to you, made a good impression on you at a bar once and then signed you up for hell, refusing to let you go.

He guessed he and Joker were alike in some ways after all. Yet he continues.

"He left me. My father never even came looking."

With each word it's like a catharsis on his soul, chasing away the shadows that were wrapped around him. He had been out tonight, hunting Bruce. He needed to go out again soon, once he had licked his wounds clean and known that the damned Bat hadn't found his hideouts. he had selfishly kept you around despite the evacuation, and only now was he starting to regret it.

As he gazed down at you, he could see more of him in you than her would like, the fragile hope in your eyes already webbed with cracks.

Had he really done this?

Contrarily, you stared up with a soft kind of pity. This was the Jason that you never got to see, the one that got out of bed in the middle of the night to go for a walk and come back with red rimmed eyes. The one who made the quiet sniffles behind the locked bathroom door, the one that hid his scars from you not out of anger, but out of shame and embarrassment. His eyes flicker between your face and the hand that you begin raising, until it strokes along his cheek. He has the urge to pull away, to flinch, but he lets your fingers ghost just barely across the skin. He understands your silent ask for permission and accepts in by gently turning his face into your hand.

A small smile flits across your face then, filling in the cracks that had formed in both of your hearts. "I won't leave if you won't" you whisper, and his breath begins to even out. Maybe you were an idiot. Maybe you were deluded. Maybe you were just dumb in love.

"I don't care about everything that you think is going to scare me off," you say softly. "If you...if you promise to try with me, I'll try with you too. I won't abandon you, Jason," you say, using his full name. It feels foreign on your tongue, but you like the way it makes the corners of his lips twitch upwards. "If you won't leave me behind either."

That night was the first time that you saw Jason Todd smile, and unbeknownst to you, it was the first time in years he had even tried.

[ericscroptop]

Needy

✧ pairing: bf! eric x gf! reader

✦ genre: smut

✧ warnings: 18+ (minors DNI), smut, p!rn with slight plot, bratty and dramatic reader just a tad, reader is insanely needy that it’s like, “okay, damn, we get it!” — but that’s the entire point, teasing, kissing, making out, fondling, grinding, one spank, marking, unprotected sex, sideways sex, creampie, dirty talk, cursing, pet names, fluff, fluffy aftercare

✦ word count: 6.5k words

✧ synopsis: it’s ‘missing eric hours’ and you can’t help but be a smidge of a brat about it until he finally gives you the attention you need.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅ ⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅ ⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

A huff passes out of you for what seems like the millionth time today.

Anything and everything you could possibly watch on TV seems uninteresting. You sit up from your bed and stare at nothing in particular, drowning out the television noise with your sulking thoughts at the fact that it’s getting late and your boyfriend still isn’t in the room with you.

While he was actually under the same roof as you, he was working in his at-home office room, swamped by various tasks and extra work he had to bear suddenly.

He’d been in his office practically all day and night. You know that duty calls, but you can’t help that you want to spend pretty much all of your time with him. These days, he’s been a busy man. You’re both lucky that he was able to work from home today, but it was still painful and no different since he’s locked away to focus properly.

You’re becoming restless. All day you’ve tried to occupy yourself with several activities, but they all got monotonous quickly. It also felt isolating knowing you and Eric were under the same roof, but couldn’t spend proper time together. It was torturous.

Planting your feet on the ground, you stand up out of bed. The clock was getting close to midnight and your boyfriend was still locked in that damn office.

You stride towards his office, going with determination to persuade him to call it a night and come join you in your comfortable shared-bedroom.

He had advised you to leave him be and he’d call for you or text if he needed something so he could fully immerse himself without distractions, but you couldn’t help your antsy-ness.

He needed to take care of himself properly and rest. And you needed a reminder of how good it felt to have Eric curled up beside you, relaxed in his arms.

Without knocking on the door, you invite yourself in with no hesitation. Eric is already peering up at you from his desk once the door’s fully opened. You greet him with a sense of longing behind your eyes, while he offers you a weary grin.

“Babe, it’s getting late.” you’re the first one to speak, moving yourself over to his figure slumped on the chair.

“I know, honey. But I have just a couple more pages left and then i’ll be done.” he lets out a heavy sigh, exhausted eyes trained on his computer.

You bring a hand to his soft hair and run your fingers through it, then carefully brush along his fringe before pressing a chaste kiss over his temple.

The sight of his eyes fluttering shut for a second from his side profile, and hearing the short hum paired with a faint giggle as you kiss him has your heart burning. God, you missed him.

You retract with a sweet smile and move your hands over his shoulders, deciding to give them a massage as well.

He exhales while you kneaded along his hard, tight muscles, closing his eyes for a second time and starting to lose himself in the feeling of you reducing and relieving any present tension.

The sensation of your hands alleviating his stress and your familiar touch making him immediately unwind is almost enough for him to say ‘fuck it’ and call it a night.

Though, he flashes his eyes open and straightens his posture, forcing you to drop your hands down as he scoots his chair an inch or two closer towards his desk.

“Go ‘head and lay in bed, princess. Don’t wait up on me.” his eyes are once again stuck to his computer, his calloused fingers going back to making work with the keyboard like they have been all day.

The taste of accomplishment is too close to give up now. He’d finish up the last bit of work and then finally get to reward himself with a well-deserved sleep, fueled by your warmth and presence.

While you admired his strong work ethic and commitment, it did sometimes stand in the way of your selfish desires and from him getting proper rest.

All you wanted is for your boyfriend to be laid alongside you. Your eyes followed his own at his screen, noticing the time in the corner displaying that it’s technically a new day now. Seeing it makes you shift your weight to your right leg, arms crossing over your chest and head slightly tilted.

“Eric!” you whined, pouting tiredly.

“Y/n!” he mimicked your tone, incessantly typing away.

“You’ve been trapped in this room all day! Surely your body and mind need a break. You shouldn’t be working this late.” you continued to nag him.

“It’s my job, baby. The deadline for this is tomorrow afternoon. Lemme finish this and I’ll have the whole day free tomorrow.” he says without sparing you a glance.

You were agitated. You didn’t know how much you valued quality time until you met Eric. He was your person. It killed you seeing him so busy and hardly having time to even sit down and have a meal with you. Now that it was night, you’d think that he would actually clock off and come running to you. Boy, were you wrong.

“I need you, baby. Come lie down with me.” you tell him desperately, hoping he folds for the neediness laced in your voice.

“And so does my boss— to finish this work up. I’m sorry. Please go lay down, hm?” he responds, turning to meet your form with a dog-tired look written all over his face.

It’s only a few seconds before he faces his computer again, continuing to click away.

His expression is serious and focused, albeit tired. While your persistence is tempting, it’s even more enticing having the entire day free tomorrow if he finishes this last task.

He’s not budging, leaving you to mope to the max. You release a deep sigh, adding extra emphasis to the sound to express how irritated you are.

“You know, I’d get this done a lot faster if you’d just leave me to work in peace.” he mutters, but audible enough for you to obviously catch it. There’s a tinge of impatience within his words, wishing you’d just let it go. It’s too late to be fussing around. He’s aware that he’s been distant, but he’s so close to freedom. If only you’d just let him get it done.

His words make your brows furrow and feel a sting in your heart. All you wanted is for him to take a break after working nonstop and remember that he has a life outside of work. Your behavior was probably annoying, but was it bad that you just wanted your boyfriend to unwind and be with you? Even if it was for a couple minutes?

Without any more communication, you stomp out of the room like a bratty child. Eric’s gaze follows your figure as you leave the room, eyes closing shut with an upset sigh once he hears you shut the door. You don’t slam it, but he knows how pissed you are at him.

He feels bad that he just kicked you out and rejected you. Oh, how he wishes tonight could’ve been a movie night filled with cuddles and kisses. But he knows that you know he can’t slack off his job. The sooner he gets this done, the sooner he’ll get to be attached to you by the hip.

You just had to unfortunately wait a little longer.

Storming back into your room, you’re filled with defeat. There’s really nothing you can do, and you just have to accept the fact that work consumes a decent chunk of his time sometimes. You have to suck it up.

Maybe you will listen to your boyfriend and go to bed. You’re bummed out that the day has gone to waste. Without a doubt if the roles were reversed, he would’ve dragged you to bed hours ago. You just miss your man!

Since you already completed your bed time routine a while ago, all you have to do is turn off the TV, lights, and sink into bed.

Though, as you grab your remote that was hidden in between folds of your blanket, you turn to the television and are faced with a very romantic scene between a couple. It has you pause in turning it off, jealousy beginning to itch your brain.

Damn it, Eric. That could’ve been us tonight.

Seeing that moment ends up sparking an idea in you. Instead of turning the TV off, you only turn down the volume, then place the remote on the nightstand. Afterwards, you shimmy out of your comfy loungewear bottoms, leaving you in some underwear that isn’t anything special.

You decide to discard of that as well, moving over to one of you drawers to hunt for some new underwear, a specific pair in mind that is Eric’s absolute favorite.

Within seconds, you find it. It’s a pair of cheeky, lacey baby pink panties with a small bow in the front. It was one of your most beloved as well. You loved how pretty the style and color was. Even if it was just fabric, who doesn’t love a good pair of underwear?

Eric has expressed to you at least twice how the visual of you wearing this special pair makes him swoon. The delicacy of the detailing and softness of the shade of pink flatters your sensual areas. It teased him so much. Especially with how it exposed your ass cheeks the perfect amount. Just the sight of you prancing or laying around in those lacey pink panties had him captivated and folded immediately like a lawn chair.

Which is why you’re wearing them to bed tonight, and only that.

You figured that if work has kept all his attention today, you could tease him by going to bed simply wearing that piece of fabric that drives him insane. It’s silly and petty behavior, and you know that him having a demanding job can’t be helped, but he needs a reminder in what he’s missing out on.

You remove your shirt and toss it to the side, leaving your torso bare. You crawl into your respective side of the bed, lying on your stomach, side of face down against your pillow. The lights from the TV and lamp remain on, you not bothering in shutting them off so Eric has a crystal clear view when he finally decides to go to bed.

You also don’t cover yourself with the sheets or blanket, leaving your almost-bare body exposed to the air.

Now all that’s left is to wait.

About an hour later, Eric finally feels freedom from closing all the open tabs on his computer. After a long day, he successfully accomplished what he needed to get done before the deadline.

He cracks his neck and knuckles while staring at his screensaver, a candid of you and him that was taken by a close friend.

He takes a deep breath and lets his shoulders fall, feeling drained and upset that work rips him away from you. He’s finished now but at what cost? Under the same roof but his attention was caught elsewhere, leaving you to feel lonely.

He’d be sure to compensate for his lack of company lately once you two wake up. Emotionally, physically— whatever you need, he’ll devote the day to properly taking care of you.

He shuts off his computer and rises from his chair, getting that long-needed stretch he’s been yearning for after being seated uncomfortably for what seemed like an eternity.

Right after, he immediately leaves the room without looking back. A yawn escapes out of him as he shuffles to the bedroom, ready to drop his fatigued form next to you.

Since it’s not that far of a walk to the room, he can tell from a couple feet away that you’ve left the light on. He wonders if you’re still up.

When he steps into the bedroom, the burnout he bears is momentarily forgotten. Your body is relaxed over the bed, his breath stuck in his throat when he sees the unexpected sight of your bare back on display. His gaze trails down and is practically bewitched when he sees your ass cheeks out, lower half of your region only covered by thin panties— of which, make his eyes widen once it registers that it’s that pair of panties.

His features stretch to an amused expression, wowed in seeing that his girl went to bed in exclusively those dainty-but-dangerous baby pink panties.

You normally were swallowed in his clothing or something comfortable of your own when you went to bed, so this was definitely telling. The lights were left on and you didn’t bother covering yourself with the sheets or blanket, indicating to him that this was intentional.

There’s his little minx, so desperate for attention and doing this to rile him up. And it’s definitely working without fail.

He takes caution in his steps as he approaches the bed, seeing that your body rises and falls, fallen into slumber.

Though when the bed dips from his added weight on it, and he fumbles to add a blanket over you, you stir. You’ve awoken slightly disoriented, eyes still glued shut but mind and body conscious.

“Shhhh, it’s okay. I’m here now. Go back to sleep, honey.” Eric whispers, his body now spooned behind you. A hand of his reaches over the top of your head, brushing along your hair to soothe you.

Hearing his voice and being aware of his presence has you whimpering softly, beginning to pathetically grind back into his crotch, your way of showing that you needed his attention.

“What’s wrong, baby?” he coos, already knowing that you simply missed him.

You don’t verbally answer him. Your tired eyes are still closed as you turn over towards him. You push your body into his own, melting and snuggling into him, making his arms immediately wrap around your back to hold and accept you.

Your face sinks comfortably into his chest, his chin now resting over the top of your head.

“Sorry for taking so long. I missed you so much.” his arms swaddle you and he brings a kiss into your hair, then rubs his nose along it, inhaling your cozy scent.

You can’t believe it took so long for you to be wrapped within his embrace. The nice warmth his body provides to your entire being is better than any blanket to ever exist.

The atmosphere carries a sense of private intimacy from your almost-naked body held securely within your boyfriend’s hold during this late hour in bed. It was domestic moments like these that had your heart pounding in hearty love and affection for Eric.

You swooned over how his touches were so gentle, out of fondness and adoration for you.

But his touches were duplexing. He had another side of him that was filled with carnal desire. He couldn’t help in wanting to worship your body naughtily, feeling the way your body would weaken and lose control while he touched you lasciviously.

You possessed that same duality as well. Attraction to one another manifests itself in many ways, and sex was an intimate one that displayed how strong that attraction for one another was, as well as how bonded you two were.

Your bare breasts press up against Eric’s clothed torso while he cuddled you. It’s impossible to ignore the feeling of your soft mounds move against his chest, even more so when you’re practically squeezing your chest into him.

A hand snakes down to one of your ass cheeks, remembering that you wore those panties that please him beyond words. The palm of his hand rubs along the part of your rear that is exposed to the air.

The feeling of his rough hand caressing your bottom and his fingers beginning to trace the outline of your undies is sensual. It prompts you to throw a leg over his hip, trying to intertwine with him, allergic to space when it comes to him.

Your clothed core seeks for his manhood. The close proximity with your man, the feeling of your body covered merely in frilly panties against him, and his small touches are all driving you haywire.

You’re not even the slightest embarrassed when you start to buck your hips into his, desperately wanting him to get the hint.

Eric has been growing hard since he saw how you looked on the bed. His pretty princess in pink panties, waiting for him. Teasing him with that lingerie and even now, being so touchy and clingy.

Although both of you could be ready to doze off, the sexual appetite between the two of you was growing. You wanted Eric to hold you, kiss you, and fuck you.

He wasn’t expecting to do this tonight, but he has now become equally as horny. Always without fail when it comes to you.

It was time to settle this.

“Look at me.” he utters.

His request is heard but you refuse to move your face hidden in his chest. Your sexual movements continue, wanting to push his buttons just a little to make things a bit more interesting and get him heated.

The hand that was circling your bottom lifted abruptly to spank you with force, making you gasp and jolt at the impact.

“Hey— behave.” his voice stern.

Your core shivers from the act, turned on by his dominant behavior.

“Stop being a brat and tell me what you want.” he grabs a handful of your fleshy ass, pawing roughly at the skin.

This act you’re putting up is driving blood straight to his cock, but your lack of words and taunting is running his patience thin. Much like how you were peeved from his lack of attention up until now.

You lift your head up and meet Eric’s dark gaze. Tiredness is drifting away while lust prevails. His hand continues to roam over your rear, teasingly inching his fingers down slowly in between your legs.

Your lips part, arms hooked around his neck as you looked at him with heavy lidded eyes.

“I need you… to fuck me, please.” you beg sweetly through batting lashes.

Eric licks his lips at your words, his fingers starting to rub you through your clothed cunt. His moves continue to engorge your pussy with blood, senses heightened and filled with heat everywhere.

The fabric is slightly damp, your sex already producing fluid out of excitement.

“My needy girl missed me, hm?” he teases and removes his hand from between your legs.

He makes you sigh out in frustration at loss of contact, making him smirk as he pulls you up his body closer, bringing your face mere centimeters away from his.

“Nothing’s keeping me from you anymore. I’m all yours.” his breath brushes your lips before his own chase yours, capturing them eagerly.

Both of your eyes flutter closed. You didn’t hesitate even for a second to kiss him back with the same level of yearn.

Your hands redirect to cradle either side of his face, held as steady as possible to keep him in place, tender gesture showing your devotion for him. He reciprocates that same need for closeness by keeping his left hand on the small of your back, while his right tousled through your hair. The stir of excitement that rushes past both of your veins when kissing is thrilling and addicting, clinging on to each other due to naturally wanting one another closer than close.

The feeling of his slightly chapped lips due to his bad habit of biting on them while working has you smiling into the kiss. The smile that stretches your mouth allows Eric to slip his tongue past, brushing and sucking with fervor and wetness along your own.

The warmth, moistness, and sliminess of it all has you hungry for more. You softly moan from the amorous kiss, causing Eric to playfully nibble on your bottom lip in response to his favorite noise.

He then rolls you onto your back swiftly, now hovering over you.

His face dips down straight for your neck, sharp nose tickling you before he starts dotting tender kisses along the sensitive area.

He worships your hotspot, circling through sucking, softly biting, blowing his hot air over you, and licking the skin.

The physical affection raises the hairs on your skin, and the nerves that run behind your ear down your neck being stimulated have your body shivering.

All while the other side of your neck is held tightly by his hand, trailing his lips lower to your collarbone, then to your shoulder, and then to your breasts.

When he gets to your mounds, he can’t resist in pausing his kisses to cover them with his hands, playing with the fleshy skin and warming them up in his hold.

The squeezing and toying he does to you has your pussy boiling with ardor. You stare dumbly at him, open-mouthed as you watch the frisky glint in his eyes. Eric is infatuated with how soft and squishy they were, his two plushy pillows.

His fingers roll over your nipples, rotating the erect buds. Your breathing increases and heart rate picks up, turned on from the way he shows sultry attention to every inch of you.

A grin plasters across Eric’s face in hearing your breathless sounds, savoring the way you lie under him in all your glory, touching and teasing you carnally.

His craving for your breasts in his mouth has him dropping his face down to lick a bold stripe up your cleavage, leaving you to gasp at the sensation of his wet muscle navigating through.

Like a shot, he aggressively marks his precious territory, relentlessly devouring your mounds with his mouth, deeply enough to where he’d be sure his marks littered your chest for days.

You absolutely lose it when he traces an areola with his tongue, then, encloses his lips around your nipple and sucks with determination, practically making out with your boob.

It has you arching your back, yelping and crying out as zaps of pleasure from Eric send arousal to pool down inside your panties.

“You like when I suck your tits? Yeah?” he chuckles while locking eyes with you, switching momentarily to give your other breast some love.

It’s impossible to not squirm under his touch, but he keeps you pinned down with his body, so you’re just left breathless and submitting to him spoiling you in utter bliss.

Eric groans into your chest, avidly grinding down, making you suddenly aware of your boyfriend’s hard-on firmly pressing into your thigh.

“Shit, babe— wanna feel you.” you manage to breathe out. Your core is aching to feel his cock inside you.

He throbs at your breathy utterance. He feels your fingers tug slightly at his hair, displaying your great need for him to give you more.

He abandons your bullied chest glistening in his saliva for now, proceeding to drag kisses down along your stomach, until his mouth reached your panties.

Even if it’s beyond obvious what you want, he still takes the time to peer up at you with a questioning look, to which you give him a nod, signaling that he could remove them.

He brings a gentle kiss to your tummy before hooking his fingers over your underwear, tugging them down your legs and off at last.

The pair is bunched up in his hand, and he raises it up, gaining your attention to look up at him. He pushes the panties to his face, nuzzling his nose into the fabric before he leaves a hot kiss over the wettish undies.

Your whimpers fill the room in response, legs squeezed together. So horny, sexed up for Eric.

He tosses his favorite panties away somewhere, focusing on your-now-naked body presented to him like a platter. Your slick pussy is revealed to him once he pushes your knees apart, making him whistle pridefully.

“So fucking pretty, princess. All for me?” he sighs in admiration.

His thick hand is kept placed on one of your knees to keep you open while he lathers his fingers in your arousal with the other hand, leaving your breathing to be shaky, core burning hot.

He doesn’t think twice in popping those coated fingers inside his mouth, giving you a show of him shamelessly sucking your slick off.

“Eric…” you cried, desperate fuzzy feeling consuming your senses.

He snickers at your eagerness and longing, pulling his fingers out with a pucker sound.

“Gonna fill you up real good, sweet baby.” he rasps, finally pulling his shirt off to start off his own undressing.

He rids himself free from the remainder of his clothing, now leaving you both naked. You’re salivating in viewing his delineated abs and slender waist, as well as the hard, girthy cock that makes your soul smile and face blush a rosy color.

Eric smirks as he maneuvers towards the free spot next to you. You’re on the edge of the bed, on your particular side. Tonight, it’s calling to him that he fuck you side-by-side.

So he adjusts himself and you accordingly.

You don’t question his movements, licking your lips at his bare body moving next to yours. His figure brushes your side, lifting your leg to be angled, raised over his thigh.

An arm of his snakes under your curved leg, hand directing toward his shaft, gripping over it to stroke his cock and spread the clear fluid that’s glimmering out from his tip.

A low moan flows out of him due to the gratifying stimulation of his hand as he preps himself to enter you. But he knows it doesn’t beat the friction and heavenly satisfaction from your beautiful pussy that he’s about to get.

“Ready, babe?” he traces the head of his cock around the edges of your outside, causing you to shake at the sudden contact. Fuck, you needed him.

“Yes, please.” you choked, leaving him to tongue his cheek as he inserts the tip, groans and gasps mixed with cursing filling the room in unison.

A fiery flurry shoots up your spine when his tip slides past your wet folds, pussy welcoming that familiar hard, yet smooth pressure.

One of your hands clutched the sheets while the other gripped at your own thigh out of feeling his length push inside you.

“There we go. Shit… nice and tight for me. Easy, baby.” he coos, hissing at your walls squeezing around his length and encouraging you to relax.

Your walls stretch to accommodate to his size, being invited in and encompassed nicely.

A hand of his reaches for your tummy protectively, patting your stomach out of praise and soothing nature.

“Always take me so well. Such a good girl.” he sighs. The sensation of your hole stuffed and full of him has you both heaven-sent.

That warm stretch of your walls engulfing his cock is like pure luxury. After a long day of working, this is exactly what he needed to unwind. He missed this so much. His sweet baby, and her precious pussy that hugs his cock eagerly. Seems like you both missed every part of each other.

His hand still rests on your tummy, arm snaked around from under your leg that remains bent and raised in the air.

He tightly holds onto your abdomen as he starts humping into you slowly to start off. You mewl at the awaited feeling of his manhood moving inside you. Your blood is pumping and all you can think about is the pleasurable pressure and how gorged you are now from Eric’s cock.

He boosts up the pace. His thrusting builds friction, making your pussy gradually hotter.

The sounds of skin slapping and pornographic moans springing from your voice fill the room. You can’t help it, it’s like he’s scratching an intense itch of yours, mind-numbingly pleasing and electric.

“Ahh— yes, Eric!” you breathily cry, features creasing as he fucks you with devotion.

Your velvety walls caressing and brushing his cock while you moan and whine aloud bewitches him. You’re making it so easy for him to wanna pop fast, but he doesn’t want to bust quick. He wants to savor this moment. He isn’t in a rush at all, wanting to take his time in relishing this heated moment.

He allows his thrusts to let up to divert his attention for a minute. He swiftly withdraws his arm from under your angled leg and redirects it to the other side, gravitating to pull your jaw towards his face, him even raising up a bit to meet you closer so your lips could connect.

“Fuck, Eric. Mhmmm.” he swallows your sounds greedily, allowing you to moan into his mouth.

Your lips lock together, passionately moving together ravenously. He nips at your bottom lip in every other searing kiss, growling as the plump appendage slips through his teeth.

A hand of yours travels to reach for his abdomen while you kiss, smoothing over his muscles and defined lines. You admire the firmness of his abs, as well as the way his muscles flexed at your touch. Eric has a beautiful body, and so you loved grazing your hands over any and every part of him whenever you could.

He absolutely goes feral when you openly show affection towards his body. Holding him, touching him, feeling him— your touches of all sorts remind him that he’s real. It makes him feel so alive. You cherish him in many ways, and when you do so physically, it makes him inflate with love and confidence.

His cock throbs out of making out with you while your pussy swallowed his manhood. He’s vocal about what you’re doing to him, letting out a few guttural moans of his own.

Aching to move as he wishes inside you, he draws back from your lips, redirecting his arm back under your angled leg, making contact with his bicep.

His hand goes back to its position on your stomach from earlier, continuing to rock your bodies back and forth.

Your sweaty bodies move together repeatedly. It’s so sexy, leaving you two submerged in lust.

He keeps a steady pace, and every so often, you’d squeeze around him during his out-strokes, making him groan in rapture.

To acknowledge the effect you’re having on him, he inches his hand upwards to grip over your breast. His thrusts don’t falter as he starts groping your entire mound, holding onto it while he continuously fucks into you.

“That’s it, baby. Pussy swallowing me so fuckin’ good.” he praises.

You’re nonstop whimpering, breath blown away with every plunge into you.

Eric watches in zeal the way the flesh of your breasts and thighs bounce and jiggle, your body shaking fiercely.

Those mouthwatering noises of yours don’t cease and only grow louder. Every movement means another cry in pleasure out of you. Your mouth is dumbly stuck ajar from getting fucked stupid.

Each sound and action of yours activates his brain chemicals, leaving his senses enhanced due to the intoxicating sexual arousal.

He believes he’s going to give into the full kind-of pressure that’s present. Muscles in the lower parts of his torso are stretching. Sexual goosebumps that have built up creep across the back of his neck, shooting down his spine. Every part of his genitals are tingly, hot, and heavy.

His ragged breaths draw you to turn your head to some degree to look at him. His teeth and jaw are clenching, bulging veins run down along his arms, one of them still gripping your breast, too consumed in the tickling and tension within the base of his cock that’s eating him.

It’s crystal clear that your boyfriend’s about to cum. He’s rapidly driving his length into you, showing your pussy no mercy.

It’s a steamy thrill watching Eric crazed from chasing his release. He looks so hot all desperate, persistently humping into you, panting and tensed-up.

You sneak your fingers towards your swollen cit to amplify your pleasure into overdrive, wanting to cum alongside him.

The relief you get from attending to your puffy clit has you trembling, eyes fluttering from your fucked-out daze. Rubbing your sensitive bundle of nerves is like sparks exploding uncontrollably. Your brain is mush, not being able to breathe regularly alongside your boyfriend as you continuously cry out.

You start to feel his cock twitch. It thickens and swells for a mere few seconds, and that signals that you’re about to be milked.

His mouth hangs open as he tenses up, bloated, hot cock finally busting burning semen.

He lets out broken moans of relief, whining out your name as he’s jerking into you and pulsating every half second or so, shooting hot wads of cum with every pulse.

His spasms trigger your own orgasm, exploding with your own fluid. Your inner muscles clench hard, legs flex, pulse elevates, back arches, and toes curl. Your eyes are glossy, vision blurred, and you’re mumbling repeatedly breathless whines from finally reaching that peak.

“Oh my god, Eric!” your voice cracked.

He’s huffing and puffing trying to catch his own breath, now overly sensitive with his cock still burrowed inside your soaked, baked pussy.

“I’m right here, princess. Shit— I got you.” he rasps.

He’s gentle but immediately pulls out of you after you each crash, making you two groan at the sensation of his length pull out of you, everything so sensitive.

You feel limp, body and mind numb. That sex with your lover was fulfilling, but it’s left you exhausted. Same goes for Eric.

Your eyes are shut as you roll over to him, much like earlier, and he helps adjust you to lay on top of his body.

Each of your bodies is covered in sweat, still hot all over, and your pussy is leaking with both of your fluids running down— even now getting on Eric, but who cares? Cuddles are very much necessary after sex.

He holds onto you tightly, rubbing your back as you lay your head on his naked chest. No words are exchanged momentarily as you’re listening to each other’s heartbeats and breathing, attempting to calm down.

You could practically nod off comfortably even with your sticky body resting over his own, until he speaks up.

“I’m so sorry for neglecting you, honey. Everything I do is for you. Gonna make it up to you.” he says softly.

Your heart softens upon hearing his words, prompting you to raise your head up slightly, peering up towards him, who’s already looking down at you.

A hand of yours reaches up to nest in the nape of his neck, entangling your fingers with the hair that resides there.

“Hey, I know. Don’t apologize. I should be the one apologizing for being such a brat.” you scoff at yourself for your whiny and clingy actions, even if you did end up gaining his attention like you desired. And you’d lowkey do it again.

“You’re such a driven, hard worker and I admire the hell out of that. I’m so proud of you. I just missed you, and I get worried when my handsome boy works too hard.” you continued, tone sincere and affectionate.

His lips curl upwards as he chuckles softly, his pupils shyly darting away from you as you compliment and gush over him. You just pout your lips cutely at him to tease him before pressing a kiss over his perspiring chest.

“Plus, you already made it up to me.” you smirked, then bursted into small giggles, throwing your head back in laughter as your cheeks flushed.

Fuck, you’re so damn cute. How is it possible that his heart grow any fonder for you still? It’s like the angels sing when he hears your voice, his body glowing when around you. Every stress or concern of his fades away when he’s with you.

Your giggles make him grin like a fool, stupidly in love with everything you do. He lifts his head up to lean into your face, signaling that he wants to meet your lips.

You pucker you lips slightly to give him a light kiss. One, two, three times before you’re both satisfied and content for now.

“I love you so much, sweet baby.” his eyes twinkle with endearment. His hands still hold onto you and run over your spine, fingertips dancing over your bare skin.

Those words mean so much to you, over and over again. No matter how many times he tells you. Every time, it makes you melt.

“I love you too, ‘ric.” warmth filled your cheeks and heart as you inched up to nose into his neck. Your head burrows into the crook of it, making yourself at home. There’s no where else you’d rather be.

For only a minute, you two cuddled in comfortable silence before Eric spoke up again.

“Y/n?”

“Hm?”

“Can you scratch my back?”

At his request, you elevate yourself to look at him once again. Smiling, you grab hold of his chin and can’t resist in leaving a feathery kiss on his cheek. “Of course, babe.”

His eyes light up like an excited puppy, beaming at the thought of one of his favorite activities— you kindly dragging your nails over one of his hard-to-reach spots.

You two immediately switch places. He settles himself over you, flopping his head to rest on its side, getting comfortable. His hair tickles your neck while his facial features rest upon your shoulder.

When settled, you finally bring a hand to start stroking his back. You start off with shifting your hand into a claw and make overlapping circles around his back, just the way he likes.

Eric’s body feels instantly lighter and your touches bring him so much relief. He groans in pleasure once you get in the groove of it, your light scratches and rubs stimulating millions of nerve endings.

“Happy?” you teased as he wasn’t shy in vocally expressing how your scratching was doing wonders for his back.

“Feels so good.” he mumbles, feeling soothed and safe under your touches. At this rate, he could be lulled to sleep.

You hum in response, continuing your ministrations contentedly. You must admit, you loved pampering your boyfriend. He always treated you like a princess, so it only made sense that you give him equal attention and care.

Though, you know that he could fall asleep any minute now knowing that your scratches are apparently too relaxing that it drifts him off with ease— especially after working nonstop today, and then fucking you right after.

You two are still naked and have yet to go clean up. You’d hate to ruin this dear moment, but you guys have got to clean yourselves up and use the bathroom.

“Hey, we should probably go clean off, babe.” you voice, hoping he hasn’t fallen asleep yet.

“Just a few more minutes.” he sighs into your shoulder, voice groggily, indicating that he’s ready to pass out.

You let out a groan straight away.

“I’ll even carry you… please?” he begs, rubbing his cheek and nose cutely against your shoulder.

You just shut your eyes as you still continue to scratch him, trying not to roll your eyes, knowing that there’s a possibility that he’ll fall asleep in minutes.

But he needed this moment. I guess a few more minutes wouldn’t hurt.

“Okay.” you weakly huff out, giving in. “Just a few more minutes.”

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅ ⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅ ⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

[mooishbeam]

Early mornings ran most peaceful for you. The distant chirp of rising birds, the lone Starskiff’s bumbling motor as it soars across the sky, a comforting breeze wafting through your hair. The pinkish rosy sky sent the midnight clouds to sleep, pouring the Xianzhou’s roofs in shimmering dawn light. 

It was one of the perks of being General Jing Yuan’s unofficial assistant. You committed to the activities you enjoyed all while working in the General’s own residence. His home hung above the rest, suspended in the throes of the galaxy, marking its existence in time and space. 

It’s so much more than you could ask for, and way more than you thought you’d ever receive. Truthfully, you believed your “house-sitting” business to be reaching a standstill. You hardly imagined it’d be the General requesting your expertise with a confident candor and dopey grin. 

The Dozing General conducted himself with pride and dignity, sacrificing his own life over the will of his cloud knights. You saw within him power only kings bore, possessing the ability to command a crowd. 

You saw more than just that, though. Dark bags, the few moments where his eyes flitted for half of a second, the armor weighing heavy on his back, silent mornings taught with tension and dread. The overworked, exhausting nature of never-ending paperwork and battle scars would naturally leave little room for housekeeping. Therefore, you did your best to make the bitter evenings pleasant. 

Your favorites were the lazy days, where you got to spend extra time with Mimi. Or wave-treading snow lion, as he liked to call her. The General isn’t good with names. 

The second mimi sees you, she’d roll on her stomach with the cutest doe-eyes you’ve ever seen from lion. Enticing you, you can't resist petting her. It’s like she knows the impact her cuteness has on you. Loafing in the courtyard, ripe with overgrown vines that wrap around the pillars and crimson pagoda roofs. You lazed the mornings away, digging in her fur as she purred and purred. The vibrations traveled through your hands often. Ivory fur filling the space between your fingers, puffing fits of lion hair on your cleaning clothes. A brighter white than the General’s hair, though rougher. You hoped his was softer. 

The General showed his face on occasion, when the sun’s radiance demanded attention. Never beyond mannerly greetings. Never beyond simple small-talk wrapped in a dainty bow of professionalism. Sometimes he’d appear with tea in hand, discussing the lengthy schedule in store. Other times, you existed in the quiet together. You wanted to ask about his preferred tea, how he met Mimi, why he didn’t sleep in on days off. 

Why he didn’t ask for help. 

Yet, you couldn’t manage to break the carefully built barriers separating you from the nonchalant facade. It was usually the ladder. 

Today was one of those days, using Mimi as a lower back rest as you corded your hands through her fur. She knows her strength, big, fluffy paws pressing gingerly on your knee as she attempts to make biscuits, careful to retract her claws. Her purring travels like an engine, and you use the other hand to provide the chin scratches she deserves. She curls around you, lovingly flicking her tufted tail on your thigh, and you laugh at her ability to behave like a kitten in the body of a 300-pound animal. 

The opposite door slides open, releasing a draft along the bonsai. 

Jing Yuan leans against the side wall. It’s apparent he’s exhausted, or he wouldn’t have approached you in this harrowing state. The long embroidered robe he wears to bed is in disarray, one side slumped from his shoulder to expose the hearty physique befitting of a General of his caliber. Satin pants hang dangerously low on his hips, one leg caught on the heel of his foot. 

He doesn’t seem to realize, however, as his hair nearly obscures his eyes, serving as a makeshift sleeping mask for the dreams he rarely has. Snow white curls spill down his back, hints of a red satin tie holding on between the strands. 

You wait for him to respond, but he doesn’t. In fact, he doesn’t seem to realize you’re there in the first place. He’s already nodding off, wind passing through his bangs to expose his lidded eyes. 

“Good morning, General.” His head snaps up, and he tries to be discreet about peering through his hair to no avail. 

Jing Yuan tangles his fingers to pull the hair back from his face. Blearily blinking the sleep from his eyes, he adjusts to the morning glow. 

“Mhm, a fine morning, indeed.” He doesn’t mean it. It sounds rehearsed, noncommittal within the chain of grunts and deep whirrs of fatigue. The creases in his smile are shallow today. 

“Would you like me to prepare some tea?” 

“No need” he utters, pinching the bridge of his nose as if to stave off the inevitable. “I’ll be leaving shortly.” 

“Any business you must tend to today?” 

“Not necessarily, but it would do me best to return to the Seat of Divine Foresight just in case.” You’re unaware of the frown forming on your face. Even on days off he worries about the state of the loufu in his absence. It’s hard to imagine the amount of responsibility. 

“If you must” you respond, cagey words laced with worry. It’s better not to pry for your sake. 

“I see you’re having fun with wave-treader” he drawls. 

“Shes been good all morning.” You pet her head and she leans into your palm. 

“I’m glad.” 

“She loves just laying here like this, such a well-behaved kitty.” Mimi stands, stretching on her hind legs with a sturdy yawn. 

You fight back the smile peeking at the corners of your lips when the General yawns right after her. He rubs the back of his head, “She’ll start to think she’s a kitty if you coo at her this often.” 

“I can’t help it, you should see the way she gets me. She’s doing it on purpose!” 

He releases a breathy laugh caught in the chambers of his restless body. “You’re easily swindled.” 

“I guess so.” You open and close your hand, bearing the feeling of losing your hand in her mountains of fur, “petting her calms me down.” 

“That’s why you pet her?” he asks, and you’re knotted in thought at the question. You remember the first time you saw her; how friendly she was as she immediately coiled over your frame and nudged her immense skull into you. 

“Mm, part of the reason. Her hair’s beautiful too, it shines like tassel silk in the sun.” You barely recognize you’re rambling on. 

“It reminds me of yours, General.” 

You pause. Stuck for what feels like an eternity. The embarrassment within you blooms in a sudden, almost paralyzing moment. You’ve shared an inside thought, and you can't bring yourself to look up at him. You suck in your lips, lost for words from your sudden mishap. 

Slowly dragging your eyes up his disheveled state, he’s already staring at you. Crescent moons—mirth plays at the creases on his eyes. 

“My apologies, General, that was unmannerly.” 

His half-baked gaze is fixed on you, gentle eyes spurred by golden sunrise, flecks of nutmeg and honey. A gaze so encompassing and sweet your ears burn like the summer heatwaves on Amphoreus. Even Amphoreus can’t compete with the heat collecting in your stuttering breaths. 

“I-“ 

“Would you like to try?” 

“…I’m sorry?” 

“I said, would you like to touch my hair? Perhaps you’ll receive the same calming energy.” 

You’ve imagined it pacing back in forth in your room, conversing with yourself on the logistics of asking your employer for a potential head pat. It’s been a reoccurring thought since you’ve met him. Soft, almost feathery in appearance as they curled around his chiseled jawline and kind laugh lines. 

You’ve weighed the pros and cons of even asking such a question, If you could reach beyond the rigid professionalism. And now it’s being handed to you with no consequence. It’s practically a trap. Though, you wouldn’t mind going down for the reward. 

You’re tumbling over your sentence, “Y-yes. I mean, yes please.” 

With confirmation he sways to you, stiff and unrefined, unknown qualities of your general. His bare feet slap the stone pathway, robe tie gone to the wind. 

The closer he gets, the more anxious you become. Jing Yuan coming to you for a head massage is like a dream you would’ve repeated in the dead of night, kicking your feet in the air. Now that he’s stopped in front of you, you can’t contain your excitement, buzzing in your kneeling position. He kneels down with you, satin bunching on the floor, leaving little to the imagination. He brings his arms to his sides, waiting. You gladly hold your palms out and he drops his head. 

As if he were in a trance, his forehead meets your shoulder and remains there. A flurry drapes onto your torso and you flinch, face submerged by the thick, untamed mane. No longer Mimi, but the General himself. 

You’re extra timid. You steadily brush your knuckles against his locks. The way you imagined, downy and dense like low lying clouds in a deadened fog. Only luxury products could produce his healthy texture. Hibiscus? Mint? You can’t tell, but it sure smells like it. A fresh, slightly floral scent envelops your nose. You nudge a bit closer, far from tactful. Fluorescent hibiscus haunted by a rainstorm. You inhale deeply, savoring the aroma, when you hear his husky snicker buried underneath. 

“I appreciate the compliment.” 

“Sorry.” 

You move towards the top. Thick from root to tip, curls forming in every which angle. You test the waters and gently scratch his scalp. When he doesn’t react, you continue to trace your nails along it, light pressure, similar to the movements provided for the lion's care. You slowly move from the beginning of his hairline to the end of his scalp, guided by the curve of your fingertips. 

A deep, guttural hum escapes his lips, rumbling in his chest. It travels against your skin. You’re beginning to see more parallels between him and Mimi than you’d like to admit. His arms relax, lowered like cinder blocks at his sides, and you slowly begin to feel the full pressure of this heavy man resting on your shoulder. 

The weight of his burdens is released by your touch, and you feel it dissipating within the pleased sighs and breathy murmurs, eyes shut in pure surrender. Even his lashes curl beautifully, kissing the highs of his cheekbones, blessed by the gift of basking amber. You knead and press at the wispy strands on his temples with scrunches of snow. 

“Mm. That’s good” he says, whisper-light. 

You massage his scalp between your fingers. Taking breaks to smooth the entwined curls. Mimi rests her head on the garden stones, with the rest of the space being furnished with comfortable, safe silence. Picking at the red ribbon until it pulls loose, more hair spills like a blizzard against his fair back. 

“General?” 

He doesn’t reply. The heaving rise and fall of his chest challenges your balance, but no response. “General, are you awake?” You say it quieter this time. If he were to drift asleep, let it be the fate of Lan. 

“Hmm?” he mumbles. 

“Would you like me to tie your hair for you?” 

“That would be nice. Thank you.” 

Your greed gets the better of you, pretending to reach a strand intended for the ponytail just to immerse your fingers in the soft bearings of his nape. An indistinct hum in response is enough for you to keep going. The hairs gentle here, and you’re unhurried sweeping your hands over it. You grab a small bundle of hair at the back of his head and collect it in the neatest ponytail you can manage in this spot. You fold the ribbon around it and pull tight in an acceptable bow. 

Absent-minded touches tuck the stragglers behind his ears. His face warmed, you’d check his temperature if you weren’t also burning up. With his hair tied properly, you can see the hair on his muscles, leading further to the tufts peeping over the waistband. You quickly avert your gaze. 

“I am done.” 

It takes a minute for him to register. “Thank you” he sighs. He’s finding the strength to pull himself out of sleep, raising his head when your hands suddenly ghost behind his back. Not pressuring, but reassuring. There’s a red patch spread across is forehead. 

“However, if you are still tired, I would be honored to stay here while you rest.” He regards you, mischievous grin tugging on his mouth. A laugh puffs from his nose, and he turns his cheek to lay on your shoulder again. He relaxes into your embrace, to which he closes his eyes. 

“Then 5 more minutes wouldn’t hurt.” 

© mooishbeam - please don't steal, copy, or post my work to other platforms :)

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

A Touch of Sweetness 4

Warnings: non/dubcon, mentions of crime, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: mob!Loki Laufeyson

Sister series to mob!Thor

Summary: you make a new friend, but that’s not all. (short reader)

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

You wait at the door. You’re wearing winter clothes but you don’t mind. The stuff in your closet are the only untouched by berry juice. 

As you watch through the window, Jada scoffs and slurps loudly behind you. 

“What are you doing?” She asks. 

You know what she wants. She wants a reaction. Well, you might be sweating in this turtleneck but it’s not because of her. 

“Waiting.” 

“For?” She snips. 

“My ride.” 

“You have a car.” 

“Yeah, well, I’m saving my gas,” you argue. “Where’s Estelle?” 

“She went home,” she chimes in a taunting tone. Oh yes, she went home after they destroyed your wardrobe. “Those berries were good. Fresh.” 

You sigh and shake your head. A sleek dark green car rolls slowly along the curb and stops, idling as a dark figure leans over in the driver seat. That must be them. 

“Gotta go,” you say as you hook your quilted bag over your shoulder. 

“You are such a spoil sport,” she pouts. You open the door but she catches it before you can close it. She huffs as she sees the car, “oh, I see. Another day of fun with criminals.” 

You slow as a figure emerges from the other side of the car. Loki squints over the roof with obvious disappointment. You give a sheepish wave as you approach. You don’t think he knew to expect you, just as much as you don’t expect him. 

“You’re such a loser,” Jada calls after you. “And you’re gonna get hurt.” 

You ignore her as Loki scowls. He doesn’t say a word as he drops back down into the driver’s seat. You open the passengers’ door, “may I?” 

“Hm, haven’t much of a choice in the matter,” he drones as his fingers tap on the ridge steering wheel. 

“Sorry, I... I could’ve driven but Thor--” 

“Yes, he does demand all things happen upon his whim,” he slithers. “Do use your seat belt and close the door. I should hate to think of his whining should you get hurt upon my watch.” 

“Oh, yeah, sure,” you shut the door and fumble to do up your belt. He pulls out just as you snap it into place. 

“That was a rather pleasant woman,” he remarks as he drives. “What was it she called you?” 

“Ha, that’s just my sister,” you say. “You know, sister things.” 

“I do have one and she’s just as endearing,” he turns lazily with his thumb. 

“She just woke up. She’s grouchy,” you explain and look around the interior of the car, trying to distract yourself from the tension. You can feel how much he doesn’t want to be there. “This is nice.” 

You run your hand over the wood finish of the dashboard. 

“Authentic. Vintage,” he assures you. 

“Oh,” you retract your hand, “I wouldn’t want to... leave fingerprints. Sorry.” 

He grumbles but says nothing. You suppose that’s better than rebuke. You sit back and watch the streets through the window. The silence is strangling. 

You subtly glance over at him. He’s an intimidating figure. Tall, lithe, unreadable like a feline. You want to apologise again, just for the fact he’s been sent on this errand. 

“What?” He says, startling you. 

“What? Uh, what what?” You murmur and turn your head straight. 

“Why are you staring at me?” He asks. 

“I’m not, I just... looking through the windows,” you lie. 

He huffs and rests his hand on the shifter lazily. You turn your face away, stewing in your embarrassment. 

“The forecast is rather positive. You will be overheated,” he girds. 

You look down at the turtleneck with the ruffled collar and sleeves. He’s right. Another shock of heat blazes in your cheek. 

“I thought it was cute,” you shrug. 

He hums again. He clucks his tongue and speeds up. He peers over at you. 

“You’re not a very convincing liar.” 

“I’m not--” 

“I wonder,” he interrupts, “why you would lie about a shirt.” 

“I’m not lying, it is cute.” 

“It’s... not unsightly,” he allows. “But I’m certain you have something more weather appropriate.” 

“Maybe I do but why do you care?” You blurt out before you can stop yourself. 

“Suppose I don’t,” he utters. “I am rather bored by this entire chore and thus I try to distract myself.” 

“Mm, well, I am sorry you have to do this,” you say. 

“Isn’t your fault, isn’t your apology to make,” he rebuffs. 

You frown. There's nothing you can say to him that’s right. You’re used to that and yet he isn’t so vicious as Jada or her friends. He is just blunt. A strangely respectable sort of honest. 

Loki drives up to a grand house. It’s like a fantasy or fairytale. A modern castle. You’ve never been anywhere so fancy. You gape up through the windshield as he rolls through the gates and along the stone drive. Wow. 

“The flies will get in,” he reproaches. 

You snap your mouth shut and sit back. You sniff and twiddle your fingers impatiently. He draws up next to another luxurious vehicle and you undo your belt. You’re out before him. He’s probably just as eager to part ways. 

“Come,” he beckons you as he gets out. 

You obediently follow him. He takes you up the front steps and you stop to admire the stone lion statue. He opens the door and tuts to get you to carry on. 

You enter and let out a ‘woah’ as you take in the spacious entryway. He is unaffected by it all. There’s hardly anything that does impact him deeply. 

“This way,” he utters. 

He takes you through a door and along a hallway. He points you through an open archway and you step inside. It’s a large kitchen that matches the sheer exuberance of the rest of the place. The basket of berries is on the counter as Queenie flutters through the pages of a book. 

“Uh, hi,” you step through as Loki lingers in the hall. “I’m here.” 

“Oh, hello,” she looks up with a smile, “I was just looking for a recipe—where are your berries?” 

You make a face. “You know, I forgot them.” 

She tilts her head in disappointment, “that’s okay. More than enough here.” 

“Sorry, I... rushed out. Must’ve left them right there in the fridge.” Your voice piques but she just goes back to turning pages. 

You near her and turn to face the counter. As you do, your eyes flick back to the door. Loki watches you through it, eyes narrowed, cheeks pinched with skepticism. He bows his chin. 

“I will let my brother know all is in order,” he turns on his heel and struts off. 

“What do you think?” Queenie asks, unbothered by the man’s departure, “tarts or trifle?” 

[smartgagan]

Automatic Roof for Balcony: Embracing Nature with Control

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[architecturalroofingservices1]

Solario Louver Pergola - Retractable Roof

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[leahsgirl]

dramatic much | ella toone x female reader

veryyy short ella blurb to get back out there. no warnings.

sorry for my disappearance - writers block got the complete best of me and i hate every draft i make.

—

ella busied herself in the kitchen, occasionally stopping stirring the sauce in the pan to re-read the recipe on her phone.

some may say she’s been a little too aspirational in opting to make a three course meal for herself and you, considering she can barely make a bowl of cereal without something going wrong. but with her being away so much with with international duty and pre-season duties lately and little time for just the pair of you - she wanted to do something special.

in all fairness, everything was going to plan. she prepped the veg in advance, seasoned the chicken, and is yet to call alessia to come and save her (and the meal).

but nothing is ever easy in the world of ella toone, so as the brunette was jamming along to one of her notorious spotify playlist as well as peeling potatoes; she accidentally managed to slice her finger.

“fuckin’ el” she retracted her hand back in a jolt, watching in horror as blood pumped out of the small but painful cut.

she’s pretty sure this is the end, any minute now and she’s going to die from a haemorrhage which is why in a swift motion - like any self respecting adult would do - she whipped out her phone from her back pocket.

“hey babe.”

“how far away from home are you?”

“about five mins-ish, why?”

“i’m gonna die man! you need to hurry up.”

“what do you mean, what have you-“

but ella hung up and there you was; heart rate through the roof as you sat driving your car. it didn’t take long for you to get back though, probably breaking a few speed limits here and there.

“ella?” calling out as soon as you entered the premises.

“in the kitchen!”

you find the girl hunched over the counter-top, about thirty pieces (not an understatement) of kitchen roll wrapped around her hand. “what have you done?”

“bloody sliced my finger open.” you see the half peeled vegetables on the chopping board and piece two and two together, letting out an airy laugh “let me have a look.”

ella propped herself up onto the counter as you gently unravelled the tissue paper to reveal… a small cut. barely a nick, really, but enough to have your dramatic girlfriend convinced she was at death’s door. “oh my god you are such a hypochondriac.” 

“mate it was like a blood bath in here i nearly died.” the mancunian defended herself as you hummed along amused, searching for the first aid kit.

“it’s your fault too.” she vindicated.

“of course it is.” you said with a grin, playing along “what did i do?”

“if i wasn’t cutting potato’s for this meal i was making for you, then it wouldn’t of happened.” she huffed like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“or maybe you and the kitchen just aren’t meant to be.” you opened a sachet of antiseptic wipes and motioned for her hand. “but i love the thought and effort.” you kissed her lips while slying cleaning the wound.

“shit shit shit!” the brunette pulled back and immediately went to wave her hand to stop the stinging “what you do that for?!”

“would your dramatic ass let me do it if i had told you? the answer is no.” you smiled sweetly at her and put a plaster over the cut. “there. all better.”

“wait you forgot something.” looking expectantly at you as you cleared away the rubbish. “what?”

“kiss it better?” you laughed at the childish behaviour but gave in, conceding a quick peck on her finger. “i’ve never known anyone as dramatic as you, ella toone.”

“good thing you love me isn’t it?” she hopped off the kitchen surface and smacked your butt.

“mhm. now go get changed so i can put that shirt in the wash.” pointing to the scattered red marks on the material.

“fine, but i’m stealing your hoodie.” she called over her shoulder as she made her way to the bedroom.

_

well what was supposed to be ella’s culinary masterpiece ended up being your handiwork. after convincing the girl she’d done enough damage for one night, you took over in the kitchen, following the recipe she found. to your surprise, the meal turned out pretty tasty. ella hovered around you the entire time, watching your every move like an eager student, offering unhelpful advice and distracting you with cheeky kisses. not that you minded—it was nice to see her so invested, even if it meant she spent more time fussing over her finger than actually helping

with dinner over and dishes abandoned in the sink, the pair of you was settled on the sofa, scouring the tv for literally anything to watch. ella was cuddled into your side, messing with the remote as you combed your fingers through her hair.

“why don’t we see what’s on netflix? i think there’s some new shows out.”

“ugh there’s nothing good on netflix anymore.” the brunette moaned.

“you’re so hard to please sometimes y’know.” you teased as you took the remote off her and put on a movie both of you liked, one that you watched together more times than you can count “happy?”

ella nodded, “i’ll go grab some snacks.” she manoeuvred off you and the couch, bending down to steal a kiss on the corner of your mouth, the brief contact leaving you grinning. you watched her disappear into the kitchen, hearing the familiar clatter of cupboards opening and the rustle of packaging as she gathered your favorites.

she was back after a couple of minutes, hands now full with a bowl of popcorn, a bar of chocolate and two cans of pop. “here you go m’lady.” she said with a mock bow, gracefully placing the bowl on your lap and handing you one of the drinks. “thanks babe.”

she went to the other couch and picked up the blanket, wrapping it around her shoulders like a cloak and making her way back to her personal pillow (you).

“ah! shit shit shit!” the older girl was now hopping around holding her foot.

“literally what’s just happened?” you look on in disbelief because realistically how many accidents can this girl get herself into.

“stubbed my bastard toe.” ella hissed through gritted teeth “think i’ve broke it, swear I heard a crack”

“oh for fucks s-“

[jhoneybees]

1970 - chapter 1

Wellllllllllcomeee to chapter 1 of 1970!!! Hope you like it, everyone!

Characters: Early70s!Elvis X innocent!reader

Warnings/triggers: Fear of going out of comfort zone.

Tags: @atleastpleasetelephone @i-r-i-n-a-a @theelvisprincess @thelonelyheart @hooked-on-elvis @polksaladava

_____________________________________________

The start of summer, the summer of 1970.

A record playing softly in the peaceful silence. You sit on the couch looking out the living room window to the familiar scenery of the next door neighbour's house across the road. A slow breath falls from your lips feeling the warmth of a cup of coffee nestled in your hands.

This is the life that you're comfortable with.

Living alone at 19 in a simple one bedroom home in a small southern town called Anaville in the middle of Mississippi, working three days a week at the local coffee shop on the main street, you have plenty of time to do what you love during your days off.

You’re happy like this.

Having the choice of deciding to go to the library one day or the arts and crafts shop one the next or staying home to knit and crochet. You're content in this little bubble, this little life you’ve created for yourself and…you wouldn’t ask for anything else.

Except for this one…something.

Something that has been brewing in your mind for a long time. You’ve never wanted to think about or admit it but it always floats back into your mind at night. It’s been like this ever since the end of senior year and now… it’s been a year, you can’t hold it in anymore.

An adventure.

You want an adventure.

But you're scared shitless.

Ever since graduating highschool last year, finding yourself a job and a home to rent, you’ve been so happy and blinded by this little bubble you’ve created for yourself that now, craving for something new out of this perfect little life makes you feel nauseous.

You want to go out there, out of this town but you just don’t know how to take that step out of your comfort zone.

You don’t want to do it alone.

Knock. Knock.

Turning your head towards the direction of the front door, you carefully put your cup of coffee down on the coffee table. Cautiously, walking over into the hallway. Knowing you’re not expecting anyone because you don’t really have any friends.

Who could it be?

As you hesitantly reach for the doorknob, opening the door your heart skips a beat seeing before you, a mysterious, handsome man on your doorstep.

Tall with black fluffy hair and sideburns, wearing a white high collar dress shirt, black pants, black shoes, holding a bouquet of flowers with the most beautiful smile you have ever seen.

“H-Hi! Uh, hello, ma’am! I just wanted ta come over and introduce myself.”

You just stand there, a little stunned. Lips parting slightly as he holds out his hand, noticing a gold bracelet around his wrist “I’m Elvis Presley...your new neighbour.” You look up at his face. Your whole body feeling the tiniest shiver go down your spine being met with piercing but soft blue eyes.

The thought of giving the man a handshake, never once crossing your mind.

“Neighbour?” You ask in the quietest voice.

He nods, grinning as his hand retracts back to his side. “Yes ma’am, I moved in right next door.” Pointing towards the house to your right.

You crane your head out of the doorway seeing the roof of a cream-coloured car just over the top of your peeling white picket fence and turn back nodding silently, still stunned by how handsome he is.

“...Uh huh”

The man awkwardly scratches the back of his neck, breathing out a shy laugh. “Uh…I came here from Las Vegas and uh…I originally came from Tupelo, North of here? I-I was workin’ in the big city but thought I would come back for somethin’ different.” The man lifts his eyes up to yours again, smiling a little not really knowing why he’s explaining himself but those eyes are making your heart skip another beat.

“So uh…w-what’s your name, ma’am?”

You take a small step back, lowering your head the slightest bit as you begin to fiddle with the hem of your shirt. Feeling your cheeks start to warm. “Y/n…”

“Y/n…nice to meet you.”

You just give him a small smile as he shows his grin, a crooked grin, and quickly you avert your eyes from him, soon hesitantly moving back when he lifts his arm showing you the bouquet of flowers he’s holding. Small white, yellow flowers and little green leaves wrapped delicately with a piece of white lace.

“I uh…Here’s some flowers. Thought it would be a nice neighbourly thing to give.” He explains, shoving a hand into his pocket as you carefully take the bouquet.

Then your heart thumps loudly, not loud enough for you to notice. It is a nice thing to give, you think to yourself. It’s not big and fancy like the ones you see in the magazines but the combination of simple flowers makes you smile a little wider. No one has given you flowers before.

“Welp, I better…go back home.” He sighs, his words snapping you out of your thoughts. “I uh…have a few more things to unpack.” Smiling sheepishly as you glance back down at the colours in your arms.

“Hope ya like the flowers.”

You reluctantly nod and as he quietly says goodbye and walks back down your footpath and down the side path to his house. You take a moment before closing the front door and making your way into the kitchen.

Smiling down at the pretty little things.

Opening a cabinet, you find a vase for the flowers and after a while of finishing the arrangement, you set them in the middle of your small dining table, and just stand there quietly. Admiring the colours, making that smile you had before appear on your face again but then it falters when you suddenly realise your heart is pounding in your chest.

Your mind drifting to that man with the crooked grin. What was his name again?

Elvis Presley?

…

Turning on your heel, you move over to the kitchen counter looking through the small window above the sink, peeking just over your fence. Through the other house’s window, seeing your neighbour standing in what you presume is his living room, running his hand through his hair and taking a small sip from a green cup.

Is he…the adventure? You think, out of nowhere.

Heart jumping loudly in your ears as his eyes lock onto yours.

Is he going to be the one helping you take that step out of your perfect little life?

[arlana-likes-to-write]

Second Chance - Chapter 18

Masterlist

Warning: small angst, lots of fluff, jealousy, The Barton Home

Word Count: 2.2k

Note: Sorry this is a very short chapter. Mostly a set up chapter

“We are landing shortly,” Yelena told you. You nodded and put your sketchbook away. Keeping Yelena’s eyes off the drawings was difficult since they were the sketch for her new suit. You wanted to keep it a surprise as long as possible. A lot more needed to be done, but it was a good start. You zipped up your bag and looked out the window.

There wasn’t another house in sight. The trees were bare of their leaves, and there was a light dusting of snow on the ground. The Barton’s home was white with green shutters that matched the green roof. Smoke was coming out of the chimney. It was cute. You could only imagine the property in the summer with the trees lush and full and flowers around the house. “Are you ready?” Yelena questioned. In your daydream, you missed her landing the jet a few feet from the house.

“Yeah,” you smiled and stood up. You glared at the blonde, who refused to let you take your main bag—now Yelena was carrying three—but she silenced you with a kiss and led you down the ramp.

As soon as your feet hit the ground, the ramp retracted, and the jet started. At a safe distance, the jet took off and flew back to the city. “Damn,” you whistled. “I really have to talk to Tony about his AI programming.” The blonde shook her head.

“You are such a nerd,” Yelena teased. You shrugged and continued the walk in silence. The silence was oddly comforting. Even in the cold weather, it felt like a warm blanket. Suddenly, a man you recognized as Hawkeye jogged over to you from the house. His face was pinched with annoyance, but his eyes had a fondness to them.

“I told you to wait for me, and I could help you with your stuff.” Yelena huffed.

“I am more than capable of carrying the bags, birdbrain,” the man rolled his eyes and hugged Yelena. You saw her body relax against him even when he stole a bag from her. “Clint, this is Stark’s kid,” she said when the hug ended. “Y/n, meet Clint Barton.”

“It’s nice to meet you,” you offered Clint your hand, but he pulled you into a hug. Your body tensed up at the sudden contact, but you understood how easily Yelena relaxed into him. Clint was arm and smelt of sawdust and lavender.

“Nice to meet you too,” he smiled and started the walk to his home, probably a little slower than usual. “Everyone is excited to meet you. Laura has the guest room set up for you both, and Lila has not stopped talking about her horses to show you. I-”

“My baby!” Yelena cut off Clint’s sentence. The Black Widow dropped the bags to the ground and ran to meet a gold retriever. She fell to her knees and allowed the dog to push her to the ground. You glanced at the man next to you. Clint shrugged, and you both picked up her dropped bags.

“I’m telling Fanny you are playing favorites,” Clint teased. Yelena sat up, whipping the dog droll off her face with her sleeve. You made a mental note to have her wash her face before she kissed you. You got a better look at the dog when you got closer. The golden was missing an eye, but it looked like an older wound, healing nicely.

“This is Lucky,” Yelena introduced. “Technically, he is Kate’s dog, but I love him.” You knelt beside her. Lucky looked at you suspiciously, but you held out your hand so he could sniff it. It took no time for Lucky to move closer and lick your face. Ew. Gross. You scratched your nose and stood up. Yelena laughed at your reaction. Now, you followed Lucky to the house where the rest of the Bartons were waiting.

The eldest, Cooper, took your bags into the house while Lila and Nate welcomed you with a smile. Like her husband, Laura hugged you. Her hug reminded you of your mom’s -tight, warm, and full of love. You had to bite your lip to stop your tears from falling.

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

When you returned from the bathroom, Yelena pushed Lucky out of your spot. The dog sighed in annoyance and circled a few times before lying at the foot of the bed. With a soft laugh, you climbed into bed, and Yelena moved closer to you. Her head rested on your chest, and her blonde hair was braided, but you still ran your hand over her hair and down her back. You felt her melt into you. Your mind circled back to the day you had with the Bartons.

When Yelena told you that you would be meeting the Bartons, people she considered family, you were stressed. It felt like you were meeting her parents, and you wanted to make a good first impression.

Honestly, it was easy to fall into the routine with them. Nate, who you learned was named after Natasha, gave you a grand tour of the house, and he insisted that you help him put a puzzle together. After he got bored, you joined Cooper and Yelena on the couch. The duo was playing a fighting game, and you watched them as you drew them in your sketchbook. You declined the invitation to join. Video games were not your strong suit. Mainly because your mom never bought any of the consoles.

Once Laura started dinner, you joined her in the kitchen and tried to help. She ordered you to sit and cut the vegetables. It was simple work, but you were grateful that you could help. Dinner was served (you snuck in a nauseous pill that Clint caught you taking), and you listened to the stories shared around you.

Sighing, you kissed the top of Yelena’s head and inhaled the vanilla body wash. When you were younger, you dreamt of your future a lot. You never saw yourself ‘settling down’. Instead, you always wanted to be on the move and explore the world. Everything got derailed when you got your diagnosis. All of your plans changed. “Do you want a life like this?” You asked. “Away from all of the fight.” She was quiet, and you allowed her to gather her thoughts.

“I do not think I deserve a life like this,” her confession caused you to freeze. Your hand stopped at the middle of her back. Finally, your brain caught up to what she said. You shifted down so you were face to face with her. Lucky huffed and climbed off the bed, clearly annoyed by the movement.

“Why do you think that?”

“I have too much blood in my ledger to leave the fight,” you smiled sadly and cupped her face in your hands.

“You deserve light, Yelena, because you shine so brightly.” The blonde grabbed onto your wrist. Her hands were always so warm - the contrast shivered down your spine.

“You do not know everything I have done.” That was true. Regardless, you knew the person she was now.

“I don’t need to know because I know your heart is good,” Yelena opened her mouth to argue, but you hushed her, kissing her. You wouldn’t be with someone like me if your heart wasn’t,” the unsaid words lingered. Someone who was dying. You can tell me your story one day, or you won’t. It won’t change how I see you.”

Her green eyes glossed with unshed tears. You thought a few tears would fall, but the blonde moved on top of you. Her lips were frantic against yours. It was impossible to keep up with her, so you relaxed against her lips and allowed her to take what she needed. A low moan came from the back of your throat, but the sound was captured by Yelena’s lips. It seemed to spur her on more. It was too much but not enough. You wanted more. You wanted-

Suddenly, Lucky’s bark caused you both to jump apart, and Yelena rested her head on the crock of your neck. Her breath tickled your skin. “Petukh blok(cock block),” Yelena mumbled in Russian.

“It’s your fault,” you teased. “You are the one that wanted the dog in here.”

“I love him,” you heard the pout in her voice. Smiling, you pushed her off, and she whistled for Lucky to return to the bed. The golden circled at your feet and laid down. With the addition of Lucky, you could still move Yelena back into your arms with her back pressed to your front.

You felt her fingers play with your hands. “Thank you,” she whispered.

“Of course, baby.”

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

Somehow, you managed to escape out of the bedroom without waking the blonde. It helped that Lucky took your spot, but you were next expecting to fight for the blonde’s attention with a dog. Truthfully, you thought it would be a child who walked on two legs, not four. You walked into the kitchen with a sketchbook and made a cup of tea. The water was boiling, and you opened it to a blanket page. Lightly, you sketched out the Barton family. They were people you did not want to forget.

You heard footsteps, so you poured two mugs of hot water to let the bags steep. It was Clint. The older archer wasn’t fazed by your appearance in his kitchen. “Are you a tea drinker, Clint?”

“No,” he answered. But Laura is trying to make me one. I drink too much coffee. “You smiled and watched him grab sugar and honey. You stirred the honey into your tea while Clint poured a few teaspoons of sugar into his mug. He grimaced at the taste.

“You have a beautiful family,” you said. “Thank you for letting me come here.” The man looked at you. A part of you worried that you said the wrong thing. “I’m sorry, but did I say something wrong?” Clint shook his head, took another sip of the tea, and dumped it in the sink.

“I’ve been trying to figure you out,” your eyebrows raised to your hairline. Now that you thought about it, you noticed Clint watching you the entire time you were here. “Why are you here?” He questioned. You weren’t sure how to answer that. It felt like a trick question.

“Because Yelena invited me?” you said slowly. I don’t know what you are asking.” The archer opened the fridge and took out a beer. He offered you one, but you declined it with a shake of your head.

“Why inset yourself into their life when you aren’t trying to stay?” You inhaled a sharp breath and felt the pencil between your fingers crack from the force you were squeezing it.

“I-” you opened and closed your mouth a few times. “What happened to you and your family when the Blipped happened?” Clint took a long sip of the beer and stared at the countertop.

“Laura and the kids were part of it,” he said. “And I was left behind to pick up the pieces.” You nodded.

“I lost my mother before the Blip,” you began. “Then I lost my best friends for 5 years. During those years, I was all alone. I was alone when I got sick, and when my doctor gave me my diagnosis,” you took a sip of the tea and allowed the warmth to push away the cold. You were regretting leaving the bedroom. “So yes, I could die, and yes, Morgan is right there as an option, but do you know the risks and complications of a bone marrow transplant,” Clint shook his head. “Organ damage, bleeding, VOD,” you listed off. “And if I manage to void all of that, I could possibly get cancer again.” You removed your hands from the mug because you feared shattering it.

“I am going to fight this, Clint. I just don’t want to do it alone anymore,” Clint’s face softened, and he circled the counter to stand beside you. You weren’t sure when you started crying, but you felt him push away the tears.

“It’s okay,” he said and hugged you. “You are not alone.” A few more tears stained his shirt.

“Sorry,” you mumbled and pushed out of his embrace. “I forgot how much I miss hugs.” You managed to smile. Clint’s smile was small, but he gently touched your shoulder.

“You are a remarkable young lady,” the sudden conversation change gave you whiplash. “Just don’t hurt Yelena. I’d hate to have my son’s new best friend on a hit list.” You laughed, remembering Nate calling you that at dinner.

“I won’t.”

“Get some sleep, kid,” Clint finished his beer and placed it in the sink. “Good night.”

“Night, Clint,” you watched the archer return to his room. Sighing, you finished your tea and cleaned up the mess. You took your time as you walked back to the bedroom. Instead of returning to bed, you stared at the scene before you.

Yelena was fast asleep, Lucky’s head resting on her chest. It was a cute scene, but you were getting tired. Gently, you tapped Lucky. The dog huffed but remained in your spot. “Come on, move.” Finally, Lucky moved and allowed you to get back into bed. The dog glared at you. You stuck your tongue at him.

“Are you fighting with a dog, baby?” You jumped, not expecting Yelena’s voice. You huffed and cuddled next to her.

“So what if I am?” You pouted. Yelena chuckled and kissed your forehead.

“No one is stealing me from you,” you sighed. Good, you weren’t ready to let her go.

_

Taglist: @likemick, @averagetmblrusser, @wandaromamoff69, @simpforyelenabelova, @cd-4848, @simpforyelenabelova @nymph0puppp, @sparks123123

[watchinglee2]

Bodyguard - Jordan Torres x Female Reader

Warnings: Smut, p in v unprotected, language, violence

Bodyguard

Word Count:

It was a Friday night and you and your boyfriend, Jordan are on a date night. After working so much you and Jordan decide to keep the spark alive in your relationship and take some time to spend some romantic time together.

The whole night left you in aw as he make it special for you. He bought you a new dress for you to wear at the dinner. It was a short Burgundy dress that hugged every inch of your curse and made you figure pop out like never before.

He compliments your outfit by wearing an all black button up shirt, pants and shoes. His short was hugging his biceps just like your dress was hugging you. You loved when he wore black because it made him 10 times more sexier than he already was.

This is where he surprises you with a bouquet of roses and a diamond neckless that makes you shine 10 times brighter than what you already did. You guys embarrass each other by kissing for a few minutes and then make y'all way out the door to the dinner.

Jordan takes you to a 5 star restaurant in LA called Redbird. Redbird blends historic charm with modern elegance. Housed in a former cathedral rectory, it features high ceilings, archways, and a retractable roof for open-air dining. The vibrant magenta banquettes, sleek bar, and intimate lounge create a stylish yet cozy atmosphere.

You guys eat and just enjoy the each other company. It's time like this where you enjoy being his girlfriend and just being able to just be loved. You and him decide to go to a local popular frozen yogurt place to get some yogurt.

Surprisingly the line was pretty long. You and Jordan were waiting in the line for 5 minutes until a man came up waiting behind you. You hear him mumble under his breath "damn that ass is fight". You looked the corner of your eye to see him looking at your behind.

Uncomfortable, you try to play it off as if you didn't hear anything and you just grab Jordan's arm and wrap yourself around it. The man doesn't stop there, he kept mumbling under his breath. "I'll fuck that bitch right now".

You look over at Jordan to see if he heard what the guy said but he is just looking at the menu. You stay quiet trying to avoid the man and his weird comments until he does the unthinkable.

He takes it upon himself to slap your ass hard and bite his lips. You turn around and gasp loudly. "WHY WOULD YOU SLAP MY ASS" you say loudly making sure everyone can hear. Everyone in the room turns their attention to you.

Instantly Jordan goes into protective mode. "Yo wassup bro" Jordan says as he rolls up his sleeves and balls up his fist. You see him and the unknown man get into a fighting stance. You tell Jordan it's not worth it but he doesn't listen and him and the man starts fighting.

As you watch the fight you are just praying Jordan doesn't get hurt but the way Jordan was beating up the guy made that feeling fade away. He was giving the guy hard face shot and knocking him back. It was so sexy seeing your man fight on the behalf of you.

Everyone watched and stared as Jordan beats the unknown man up. The man ends up running away and out the store before Jordan can send him one final knockout punch. Jordan immediately puts his attention back on you "are you ok?". You respond with yes and ask to just go home.

When y'all get home he goes to ice his hand in the kitchen and you follow him. He undoes this button up shirt to breathe a little and reveals his six pack and juicy pecs.

"Baby I just wanted to say thank you for defending me. I wanna say thank you the best way I know how to". You start to slowly undress yourself until your dress is on the floor and you in your black lace bra and black

Jordan turns his head to you and eyes you up and down and mouths out the words "fuck". Jordan takes a minute to admire your curvy body before dropping his ice pack on the counter and picking you up and carrying you to the bedroom.

Jordan kisses you as he lays you down in the bed. He stands in between your legs and takes off his shirt. He begins to rub your pussy through your lace panties. The friction of your panties rubbing on your folds drives you wild.

You let out soft moans and he rubs you. "You like that baby?" he says seductively. "Yes daddy. I love it so much" your voice causes Jordan to be more dominant and places his right hand on your throat as his left one rubs your flesh.

Jordan beings to get on his knees and spits at your entrance. You already knew what he was about to do and you couldn't wait. He begins to eat you out through your wetness. Your body moves up and down and side to side as it reacts to his tongue.

"Ay papi. Right there, eat that pussy" you say as you grip his head. "Whose pussy is this?" he says and he continue to munch on you. "it's yours papi" you say as a moan escapes your mouth. "Tell me again" Jordan smacks your left breast.

Your breast jiggles and you moan "It's your pussy daddy". You rub his head giving him motivation to keep going. He worships you and gives you words of affirmation while pleasuring you.

After a few minutes of him eating you, you push his head up from you and look him in the eyes and say "pull out your dick". Jordan cracks a smile and eagerly unbuckles his pants and pulls down his pants.

You get into doggy position and open your mouth as your face is in front of his dick. He pulls out his hard 6 inch member, the perfect size to slide in you and pleasure you with ease.

You open your mouth and swallow him. He lets out a moan as he throws his head back. You throw your head into circle as you slobber on his dick. Little bubbles start to form from his precum and your spit in your mouth.

"Eat that shit up" Jordan says as he pins your hair up in his hand and thrust into your mouth. Jordan tasted like vanilla and you could eat him up everyday. Jordan fucks your mouth for a few more minutes into he moves you to the balcony.

"Come on baby, let the world see that beautiful pussy" you were so horny for him that you didn't even care that it was public, you just wanted him now.

You make your way over to the balcony and Jordan man handles you and pushes you to the bannister. The way he pushed you sent tingles down your spine and automatically made your open your legs for him.

In an instant Jordan slides into your wetness. You throw your head down in pleasure where you see the city underneath you. Jordan grabs your titties with both of his hands and whispers in your ear.

"Imma fuck you in front of the city, Make everyone know that you're mine" he kisses you on your neck as he thrust into you. Over time your moans begin to increase and become louder to where your whole city can hear you.

Jordan is giving you backshots that sound like thunder. Jordan whispers in your ear that he's about to cum and you respond like a whinny baby and say "cum baby please".

He turns you around and you get on your knees and he cums on your breast and you rub it on your breast. Jordan gives you a kiss and you both say "I love you".

[pipinpali]

Unlike pt. 2

–--

2/?? — Fractured Fascination

<-first - next ->

TW!: Blood, Injury

Word count ~ 1100 words

—--

Jone walked home through Dalsby's damp and slush-filled streets much quicker than usual. Partially, it was from the rain that had suddenly started barreling down in the already cold weather. Partially, it was because he wanted to get his groceries home. Partially, it was a long day at the school he was training to work at, and he wanted to have a quaint evening to himself. But really, it was the slight weight in his coat pocket that made him rush.

Jone had briefly heard of tiny people before in the past, about maybe three to four years ago. "Smallfolk," the news had called them, "the newly discovered cousins of mankind!" And despite knowing of their ever present, but very ignored existence in his town, it was shocking to actually see one– let alone carrying one home.

He eventually reached his door and half-mindedly pulled out his keys...realizing he had placed the smallfolk in the same pocket. The student received a panicked yelp in response; the cloth of his jacket swaying slightly with the miniature man's sudden movement. Immediately, Jone retracted his hand with the keys, muttering a quick apology as he opened the front door.

He haphazardly dropped the groceries he had cared about just a bit ago by the front door as he walked in, as well as his scarf and ear warmers that went flying onto the floor.

Jone then walked back to his desk after he hurriedly made his way into the kitchen to grab his first-aid kit.

"Okay... I'm going to lift you up now. Please don't be scared," Jone stated carefully. He hadn't a clue if the man spoke a lick of English since he didn't say a word during their time spent, so he tried to speak slowly and gently to get the general point across.

After waiting patiently for a response that didn't come (or one he didn't exactly hear), Jone hesitantly reached into his pocket and retrieved the smallfolk. He struggled from beneath his fingers, and the experience was more than strange — not to mention fascinating for the relatively average man.

A single delicate and shakey arm pushing against his digits, the other pinned against the panicked smallfolk's side. The faint heartbeat against the base of his thumb fluttering so inhumanly fast with the concerningly thin and writhing torso surrounding it. His quick and strained breathing was the only other noise in Jone's usually quiet home aside from the rain pattering against his roof outside.

Jone realized he was staring and far longer than he– well, technically unintended. He placed his hand on his desk and opened his palm, allowing the smallfolk to roll off with a pained grunt. Jone reached for the med kit, opening it with a click that made the stranger flinch.

He watched as the man sat up hunched on his knees, watching him in return, his little sharp eyes warily tracking each and every movement. Jone made sure to do things as slowly and as quietly as he could to avoid startling him again.

"You don't have to be scared," Jone assured as he took out supplies, finally looking away, "I don't intend on harming you." The smallfolk remained silent, his narrowed eyes never leaving Jone's face.

Eventually, Jone retrieved a few alcohol pads. He took his eyes off the smallfolk for a moment to rip the paper-like packaging open. "Well– this will sort of sting... nothing too bad, though. I'll need you to stay stil– wait, stop–"

The man's head swiveled up to stare back at Jone, his sunken eyes wide. Of course, the moment Jone had looked away, the stranger managed to crawl halfway across the desk.

He yelped and recoiled as one of Jone's hands loosely cupped around him, the other hovering over with one of the alcohol pads. The larger of the two carefully slid the cold wipe beneath the blood-soaked, makeshift shirt. The smallfolk hissed at the sensation, tightly shutting his eyes as his chest heaved. It went from his side to his arm, and then his leg — which, on closer inspection, was broken.

Jone pulled his hand back, his palm shifting beneath the trembling smallfolk. With careful precision, he pressed a band-aid over the bleeding wound, grimacing at the sight of it. The cut wasn’t deep enough to hit anything vital, but the sight of blood on such a fragile body still turned his stomach.

As he rifled through the med kit, his fingers landed on a roll of bandages — much better suited for the job. He hesitated as he brought it closer, his movements slowing as the smallfolk’s sharp, fearful breaths quickened.

The task was painstaking. Jone’s fingers cumsily fumbled with trying to get the bandages around the man's miniscule limbs, the scissors shaking slightly in his grasp. Each snip of the blade made the tiny man flinch, his fragile body recoiling from the sound.

“It’s alright,” Jone murmured as he cut yet another misplaced bandage, "please stop struggling..." He received a frightened yelp and a panicked jerk away after it was removed. Luckily, he only had one last thing to patch up... but unluckily, it was the broken leg. Jone felt sick just staring at it.

He improvised a splint, breaking the wooden bit off of a cotton swab he got from the med kit. He delicately slid his forefinger beneath the smallfolk's leg, his thumb lightly brushing over top. He winced sympathetically as he heard him gasp in pain, knowing what was about to come.

Jone leaned forward in his chair as he began to very slowly, very gently, shift the broken bone into place. The stranger caught onto what he was doing, his eyes widening, darting to look up Jone. He was preparing both himself and the smallfolk, preparing for a quick and hopefully painless–

—Tug!

The man screamed in pain, reeling back against Jone’s palm. His face glistened with tears, his breath shuddered with strained sobs; almost as if he was trying to suppress the pitiful sound.

"...I'm almost done, alright...?" Jone carefully put the makeshift splint beside the smallfolk's leg and shakily, yet efficiently wrapping them both.

"There," he breathed, slowly withdrawing his hands. The guilt that churned inside of Jone wanted him to continue speaking to the smallfolk. But, with the man as he was now, questions and small-talk could wait for later.

Jone's mind roamed back to what he meant to do before this: go home, put groceries away... Dinner. It was far later than he ever had it before, and his hunger became apparent as it came to the forefront of his mind. And, from the man's gaunt form, he assumed he was hungry too.

"Try to get some rest," Jone said, placing the warm hand towel across the smallfolk's freezing body. He pushed himself to stand from his chair, moving towards the kitchen.

What a day.

—--

THIS TOOK A WHILE HUH.

Ran into,,,, many issues writing this,,,

BUT ITS HERE !,

I also made a drawing that includes a part from this chapter .

[crowsofdarkness]

Fallen: Chapter Five

-gif not mine. credit to owner-

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x Fallen Angel! Female Reader.

Content Warnings: language, angst, fluff, kidnapping, violence.

Summary: The new Avengers recruit has many secrets, one of which Bucky is desperate to discover.

Authors Note: This is a little AU with Bucky! It will have six chapters!

Tags: @that-blonde-girl @starfly-nicole @bookofriverr @civilbucky @jainaeatsstars @ordelixx @seventeen-x

We busted through the door that led to the roof, and when the cold night air brushed the skin of my cheeks, I let out a howl of pain. My body fell from Bucky’s grasp to the concrete roof while I writhed in pain. It had become too much, my wings were practically ripping through the skin of my back, begging to be stretched. 

“Oh fuck, it hurts,” I whined. 

I couldn’t help but feel embarrassed in front of Bucky, crying out in so much pain, but it was the worst I had felt in so long. 

“What can I do to help?” Bucky asked, resistant to lay a comforting hand on my back. 

“Just give me a minute,” I said through gritted teeth. 

My large wings dug deep into my spine and I wailed with so much hurt that a quick tear rolled down my cheek. I was crouched in a ball and Bucky ran circles on my lower back, soft coo’s of encouragement in my ear. 

“It’s alright, doll. I’m right here.” 

“I can’t hold them back, I can’t.” I seethed. “The pain is too much.” 

My breath was heavy and ragged, almost out of breath from the immense amount of hurt I felt in my spine. It felt like sharp nails were ripping the skin from my back and it was suffocating causing my vision to blur. I screwed my eyes shut. 

“You need to let them out,” Bucky urged. 

I shook my head. “You’re going to be terrified.” 

He helped me up to my feet, holding my face firm in his hand. 

“I’ve seen a lot in my life, Y/N. Nothing scares me.” 

Tears welled in my eyes. “Can you promise you won’t think anything different of me?” 

“I promise,” Bucky held his vibranium hand over his heart. “I’m not going anywhere.” 

Besides Steve, Bucky was the only one that I felt a deep connection with, despite our past. I wanted to have some kind of relationship with him, whether it was a friendship or something more, so I didn’t want him to look at me any differently than the way he did now. 

There was another factor that I was afraid of Bucky seeing my wings. I did my best to hide in the trees that night but there was no way I could go undetected by the former Winter Soldier. I knew that when I flew away he got a good look at my black wings with the one small patch of white feathers on the bottom left tip.

Whenever your wings get injured in a certain spot, no matter what the color of them are, that previously wounded area when healed would change color. It would never change back. I had those white tips for centuries.  

He gave me a slight nod, urging me to do what I feared. I only had let my wings out a few times since arriving and it was never more than a minute. 

With a shaky breath, I took a few steps away from him and let out a deep, painful scream to echo throughout the woods behind our home. Large wings exploded from my back as I stared up to the starry night sky, mouth open in a euphoric state. The feeling that took over my body when I continued to let my wings be free had almost paralyzed me and I shook my fingers, flames dancing along with the slight breeze. 

Bucky stared at me with amazement in his dark eyes, his chest rising and falling trying to steady his breathing. I didn’t have the super soldier that he did but I could practically hear his heart beating. 

“Shit,” he cursed with an airy breath and a fixed gaze.

We locked eyes and for the first time in so long, I breathed easily. The pain had vanished and the nerves that I let control me were not a weight anymore. 

“How’s the pain?” Bucky asked. 

A smile spread to my lips while I nodded. “There’s no more pain. If you weren’t here, I would have retracted them the second they came out.” 

It was his turn to smile. “And how do you feel?” 

I pondered his question for a moment. There was an ease I felt when around Bucky. Despite the past, I felt like I could show him my true self and that I didn’t have to hide who I was or what I was.

For the first time I felt free. 

“Free,” I mused while letting the fire burn out at my fingers. “Thank you.” 

As I stood in front of Bucky, who continued to stare at me with slight affection and adoration, I shook out my wings which caused a few white feathers to fall. 

 Bucky bent on one knee to pick one up and he fumbled with it between his vibranium fingers. 

“I swear I have a feather that looks exactly like this one,” he said. 

My heart began to pace, knowing exactly what he was talking about before he even did. 

When I hummed in response, Bucky continued. “In Wakanda. I found it in the woods one night and felt compelled to hang on to it.” 

He stared at it, studying it with his blue eyes, and when they darted from the feather to my wings a few times, something suddenly clicked. 

“I’ve seen those wings before.” 

I had two options; lie my ass off to him and make him think that it was all in his head. Or I could tell him the truth, hoping he wouldn’t think any differently of me. 

“Hydra sent me to kill you while you were in Wakanda. They wanted you to pay for deserting them,” I revealed. 

Bucky was back on his feet, staring at me with parted lips. 

“It was the night that Ayo spoke the words, wondering if I was free from the Winter Soldier,” he murmured. 

Tears tugged at my eyes so I squeezed them shut for a few seconds. When they opened, Bucky continued to stare at me with a hurt look. 

“When I realized that the Winter Soldier was gone, I couldn’t do it. You were innocent and didn’t deserve to die for something that you weren’t anymore.” 

He shook his head, almost not believing my confession. 

“Did anyone know?” Bucky questioned. “Steve?” 

The way his bottom lip trembled made my heart drop so I quickly shook my head. 

“No, no one.” 

With the look in his eyes I knew that it hurt him with the slightest thought of his best friend bringing someone who tried to kill him home with him. 

“If I know anything about Hydra, they don’t let anyone out of their grasp for disobeying orders.” 

I gave him a weak nod. “My sister.”

The tops of my wings faltered as the memories of my sister's  death crept back in my mind. 

“She was killed because I chose not to kill you,” I grieved. 

Regret flashed over his face when he realized that because of who he used to be, someone innocent had died.  

Bucky turned away from me, slightly shaking his head. “My life wasn't worth it.” 

“Don’t say that,” I hesitated to reach for him, unsure if he would allow me too. “I made a choice that night.” 

“Your life could have been different. You wouldn’t feel trapped here and you would have a life with your sister.” 

“It wouldn’t have been a long life,” I shrugged. 

Bucky gave me a confused look so with a sigh, I informed him that while I was immortal, my sister was not. Before my life in Hydra, I would scour the streets of whatever town or country I was living in to pass time and one day I found my sister, who was only seven at the time, living in an alley. That night, I vowed to give her the life she deserved, which she did for about 10 years before Hydra found out about me. 

Since they lost the Winter Soldier, they needed a new weapon which they had for years until that night I fled. Literally. 

“They’ll find you,” Bucky warned. 

I nodded. “Ivan set a hefty price for these.” 

I extended my wings before bringing them back to me. 

He stared at them with a light of wonder and when he reached to touch them, I brought the tip of my left wing closer to him. His vibranium fingers brushed along the many feathers but then his lips pulled together in a firm line. 

“What happens if you lose them?” 

My nose scrunched in confusion. “My wings?”

When he nodded, I let out a shaky breath, hoping I would be able to find the right way in telling him what all of my kind feared. 

“Not many have lost their wings to man but the ones that do, become mortal; the ones that survive anyway.” 

Bucky’s fingers left my wings and reached for my hand, forcing my palm to face him. “And you can shoot fire?” 

Not saying a word, I twitched my fingers to bring fire to them. 

We were still in a comfortable silence and with my other hand, I gently touched his cheek which caused Bucky to ease into my touch. 

“I’m sorry for being sent to kill you,” I muttered. 

A soft smile pulled at his lips but before he was able to speak, I let out a painful scream and fell to my knees. With shaky hands, I reached for my left wing where there was a mess of blood and feathers, a small bullet hole becoming the source of blood. 

More gunshots rang from around us and biting my lip through the pain, I encased Bucky and I underneath my wings to protect us. 

“What the hell is going on?” Bucky questioned. 

Another hiss of pain slipped through my lips when I felt two more bullets penetrate my wings. Tears welled in my eyes so he whispered a quick plan in my ear, his warm breath bringing chills to my skin, and in a quick instant, we were sprinting towards the door that led us back into the compound.