#some of them have different sounding voices

[lowkeyren]

—reject me not!

in which : when your sudden confession catches blade off guard, his response comes across as a rejection. though he realises his mistake, and tries his best to make things right. (...it gives the whole hq a headache)

slight humor, idiots in love, mutual pining, misunderstanding, you tease him w/o realizing (n he gets back at u hehe), reader is a stellaron hunter, stellaron hunters wingwomen!!!, art by @/kkuekkue on x. reblogs are appreciated! please enjoy <3

wc: 4.2k // hm secret santa? HOHOHO @mikashisus, rayray!! u might pull ur hair out at some parts idk :joy: happy reading n merry christmas my little elf xx

"i think i like you."

the words leave your mouth quicker than your brain can second-guess them. 

blade freezes mid-step, his back visibly stiffening. when he turns to face you, his sharp, cold eyes betray a fleeting glimmer of surprise, perhaps, or confusion —but it disappears as quickly as it came.

he stares at you, his eyes widening just slightly, the faintest crack in his carefully maintained composure.

but then, his lips part, and all he gives you is a single, flat response.

"i see."

two short, dismissive words. not a smile, not a frown —just two clipped words. you tilt your head, expecting some form of elaboration, but instead he just turns on his heel, his coat swishing behind him as he starts to walk away.

(what you don’t see is the way his hands curl into fists as he walks off, how his steps falter just around the corner, or the way he presses a hand against his chest to steady the sudden, overwhelming ache blooming there.)

…must this guy really be so blunt?!?!!

you sigh, a little laugh escaping despite your current situation. of all the possible responses you could’ve imagined, ‘i see’ definitely wasn’t one of them. you shake your head, a part of you wonders if elio is watching, silently laughing at your predicament right now.

it’s fine. really. you should’ve known better than to think he’d say anything different.

though the big problem now is, blade knows about your silly crush on him, so facing him in the future is going to be a total nightmare that you’re not ready to accept. you can already feel the embarrassment creeping up like it’s going to suffocate you.

“where's [name]?” 

blade steps into the base. silver wolf, tucked in the corner, engrossed in her console, raises a hand in greeting without looking up. blade nods in acknowledgment, before replying to kafka, "i went ahead of them," his voice sounds a little more strained than usual, before quickly turning to make a beeline for his room.

but kafka, ever perceptive, senses something’s off. she tilts her head with a smirk, "bladie, did something happen?"

he denies it with a quick shake of his head before slipping past her. having no other option, she resorts to… unconventional methods. 

with a flick of her wrist and a soft, almost melodic whisper, she purrs, "listen to me.”

the moment those familiar words hit his ears, a wave of calm washes over him, and against his will, he halts mid-step. "now tell me what happened, will you?"

he sighs and he rubs the back of his neck. “take your time, bladie.” after a long pause he speaks again, "[name] said they... they liked me."

kafka watches him closely, a grin slowly spreading across her face. "and then what happened, hmm?" she teases.

out of the corner of his eyes, he sees silver wolf perk up at his words, but he pays her no mind as his thoughts are too tangled in what he’s about to say next, the words barely scraping past his throat.

...

the next hour consists of him being ‘lectured’ by his fellow coworkers.

he tries to tune out the barrage of teasing, but something about  “bladie, that's not how you reciprocate,” to “ain’t no way bro fumbled that badly,” managed to stick with him, unfortunately. (he looks over to firefly standing to the side, but she only giggles and shakes her head at him.)

but really, how was he supposed to tell them that he panicked? that he was so stunned by your confession, so overwhelmed, that he could barely form a coherent sentence? that his awkward, dismissive reply wasn’t rejection, but a pathetic attempt to mask his own vulnerability?

the thought of you avoiding him, of thinking he doesn’t care, makes his chest ache with a pain he hadn't experienced for the past few centuries. 

blade makes a mental note to find you as soon as possible. he doesn’t know how to explain himself, not entirely; words have never been his strong suit, but somehow, some way, he’ll make it up to you.

later, you return to the base, your steps hesitant as you walk in. the moment you enter, the group falls silent, all eyes snapping to you. there’s an awkward stillness in the air, like they were caught in the middle of something. your gaze sweeps over the room, and it lands on blade. when you lock eyes with him, a flush creeps up your neck, and you quickly avert your gaze.

"excuse me!" you blurt out and almost sprint to your room.

...do they all know?! this has to be the most embarrassing day of your life.

you agreed to meet kafka at a bar near your current mission to discuss your next task. the magenta haired woman had mentioned it casually when you’d asked, cryptic as usual, only revealing that the task was important but leaving out certain key details —such as conveniently leaving out the part about blade being there too, of course.

(“bladie,” kafka’s voice took on a singsong lilt, her playful smile unmistakable as she glanced at him. “you’re going to use this chance to make it up to them, ‘kay?” 

blade only kept his eyes trained on the entrance, silently waiting for you to arrive.)

running late, your prior mission having dragged on longer than expected, you found yourself hurrying to the bar, weaving through the sparse but lingering foot traffic of the evening.

after what feels like hours, you finally make it to the bar. stepping in, your eyes scan the room for kafka, when suddenly, a man steps right into your path.

the man smiles warmly, though you could tell he’s had a few to drink tonight. his tone is friendly, with just a hint of flirtation as he strikes up a conversation, casually asking if you’d be interested in grabbing a drink sometime.

he’s polite, respectful even, and there’s nothing about him that feels overly forward or aggressive —just a man who’s trying his luck, that’s all. still, you can't help but feel a slight annoyance at the timing.

as you try to figure out a way to decline his invitation, you remain oblivious to blade’s gaze —specifically, how it's fixed on you, or rather, more pointedly on the back of the man’s neck.

“you’re going to snap his neck if you keep looking at him like that.” kafka’s voice cuts through the tension, her tone teasing as she watches the exchange from the side.

“i don’t like what he’s doing,” blade mutters, his voice low and filled with an edge that suggests far more than just mild annoyance.

kafka chuckles softly to herself, already knowing where this is headed. it’s not an outright confession of jealousy, of course —he would never admit to something as petty as that, and she knows better than to push him on this one. 

nevertheless, she still catches it, her lips curling into a knowing smile. even if blade would never call it jealousy, it’s enough to push him into doing something completely out of character —something he’ll never, ever do (until now).

kafka notices immediately. her eyes widen just a fraction before she sets down her wine glass with a graceful motion, amusement dancing in her eyes. and perhaps to make sure he doesn’t look too foolish, she decides to play along and help him act the part.

a sharp clang of glass hitting the table catches your attention. your brows knit in confusion; you glance over instinctively, your eyes meeting kafka's for a brief moment. her expression is unreadable, but the faint curve of her lips makes you wonder what’s really going on.

curiosity pulls your gaze lower, to the drunk figure slumped over at her table, seemingly drunk, his head resting heavily on his arm. the spilled drink pools on the floor beside him, glinting under the dim light. 

at first, you only catch a glimpse of dark, tousled hair, streaked faintly with deep crimson at the ends —so strikingly familiar it makes you pause. then, as your eyes trace over the sharp line of his jaw and the stiff set of his shoulders, realisation dawns on you. 

wait a second.

your jaw nearly drops as you piece it together. the man lying there, seemingly drunk out of his mind, is none other than the last person you would want to see right now.

blade.

your gaze darts between him and the polite man still standing awkwardly in front of you. blade, on the other hand, never lets his guard down, so this... state of his? unprecedented. 

apologetically, you offer a small smile to the man before rushing to blade’s side, urgency in every step as you push past the tables, heart hammering in your chest.

blade’s eyes subtly flicker over to you as you approach, and you can almost sense the slightest shift in his demeanor, the thought of you giving your time to someone else, especially someone so... ineffectual —grates at him.

he swallows the ugly feeling down his throat. perhaps he’s let this irked him more than it should. but it’s too late to back out now that you’re standing right beside him, the weight of your presence making the tension in his chest only more pronounced.

as if on cue, kafka’s voice breaks the silence, “as you can see, [name], our dear bladie here has gotten himself a bit... roughed up,” she says, casually catching the wine glass that had been teetering on the edge of the table.

her lips curl into a playful smile as she glances at blade, whose jaw tightens almost imperceptibly. “drinking doesn’t seem to suit him, wouldn’t you agree?” kafka continues, her tone light but unmistakably amused. her eyes flicker between the two of you, as if she’s thoroughly enjoying the situation unraveling before her far more than she should.

you blink, momentarily thrown off by the unexpected scene. your worry only deepens as you shift your attention back to blade, who remains uncharacteristically silent, his head now resting on his arm as though he really had overindulged. 

“blade,” you say softly, your voice carrying just the slightest edge of concern. “what happened?” 

before he can answer —or before he’s forced to lie —kafka chuckles, waving a hand as if to dismiss your worry. 

“oh, nothing serious. he just got a little too carried away with his drink.” she leans back in her chair, a sly glint in her eye that you’re too preoccupied to notice. your gaze falls back to blade, his hair slightly tousled.

without thinking, you reach out, gently brushing a strand strand from his forehead. his eyes flutter open at the contact —those striking, sharp eyes you’ve always found yourself drawn to, dark yet you can’t bring yourself to look away from. 

you notice the faint redness creeping across his cheeks and the line of his jaw, down to his neck. his skin hot to the touch under your fingers. “you’re warm,” you murmur softly, assuming the alcohol is to blame.

if only you knew the warmth searing through him has nothing to do with alcohol and everything to do with you. 

“ah,” kafka hums, pulling you out of your thoughts. “it seems something urgent has come up that needs my attention.” there’s an unmistakable glint of mischief in her eyes. “i’ll leave you two to it.”

you glance at her, startled. “wait, what about—?”

“don’t worry about it,” she interjects, already getting up from her seat. “the bill is already on my tab.” 

well, that wasn’t what you were about to ask anyway! 

a sly smile curls her lips, and she tilts her head ever so slightly. “hmm, it’s rare to see him like this. [name], you’ll take good care of him, won’t you?” her tone is light, but the underlying implication is clear, leaving you flustered as she turns on her heel, striding off, leaving the two of you alone.

blade leans heavily against you, his tall frame making it an awkward challenge to keep him upright as you guide him out of the bar. one arm is slung over your shoulder, while his other hangs haphazardly against his side.

his head is tilted forward, strands of his dark, crimson-tipped hair brushing against your cheek, and you can feel the warmth radiating from him —whether from his predicament or his proximity, you’re not sure.

you shift your grip, looping an arm around his waist for better support, and his body tenses slightly under your touch. for someone playing the part of drunk so convincingly, he’s strangely aware of your every movement, his hand tightening just faintly on your shoulder when you stumble over a crack in the pavement.

“blade,” you murmur under your breath, trying to shift his weight more evenly as you inch forward. “you’re not making this very easy, you know.”

casting a glance his way, you’re met with a low, almost lazy hum in response. his expression is nothing short of a hazy indifference, though you swear you catch a flicker of clarity in his eyes —a brief, focused intensity that seems out of place, before he looks away.

you can feel the heat of his breath against your temple as he wavers with every step. the night air is cool, but the warmth radiating from his body is undeniable, pressing against your side in a way that sends an unexpected shiver down your spine. the closeness between you feels almost intimate in a way that will surely have you screaming into your pillow later that night. 

as you continue down the empty street, blade’s mind races; this is his chance. he knows it. he should say something now, anything, to make it clear —to tell you how he feels. (and how it’s been eating at him for longer than he cares to admit.)

this is it, the moment he’s been waiting for, but all he can do is breathe in the scent of your skin and the warmth of your touch. the sensation is all too familiar, like the pounding in his chest —but this time, it’s not from the heat of battle.

just how much longer he has to deal with this utterly insufferable feeling?

it’s worse now, because as you navigate through the halls of the base, he’s beginning to wonder if this is what it means to care for someone —to be vulnerable. 

“here,” you say softly as you stop in front of the door to his room.

he doesn’t want this moment to end. 

you glance at him then, finally meeting his eyes, and the look in them knocks the breath from your lungs. they’re hazy, yes, but there's a sharpness beneath the mask of drunkenness, a quiet intensity that makes your heart beat a little faster.

you clear your throat, breaking the silence. "do you need anything else?"

"no," he answers, almost reluctantly. "i’ll be alright."

a twinge of disappointment surges through you. right… it was foolish to expect anything different. he’s already rejected you, and you can’t help but feel a bit ridiculous for thinking it would be any other way.

you stand there for a moment, the silence between you growing thicker with each passing second, before you force yourself to nod, your voice soft as you try to mask the heaviness in your chest.

“goodnight then."

just as you turn to leave, you feel a sudden pull on your hand, your wrist tugged back with surprising gentleness.

"wait," blade suddenly says, and this time, there's no mistaking the sincerity in it. "thank you.”

his bandaged hand rests over yours, and a soft breath escapes you; flustered, you open your mouth to respond, ready to brush it off.

"oh! It's no pro—"

but you’re cut off before you can finish. he raises your hand, pressing his lips to the back of your palm in a soft, lingering kiss.

"—blem..."

your voice falters slightly as a rush of warmth spreads through you. every nerve in your body seems to spark awake all at once, making you hyper-aware of the spot from where his lips brushed against your skin. you freeze, your breath caught in your throat, unable to do anything but stand there, your hand still resting in his.

then, as if nothing happened, he steps back into his room and shuts the door behind him, leaving you standing there, still processing the unexpected moment.

safe to say you got little to no sleep that night. you roll over, staring at the ceiling, a soft smile tugging at the corners of your lips. it feels ridiculous, embarrassing even, how many times you've replayed that scene in your head every time you close your eyes.

you couldn’t help but smile to yourself like a fool. 

(“so bladie, how’d it go?” / “...”) 

you hadn’t even planned on leaving the base today, let alone stepping foot into the brightly lit chaos of an arcade, but silver wolf had insisted —no, nagged, until you caved. and somehow she’d managed to drag blade (of all people) along, her smug grin all too telling as she pushed the two of you together and skipped off to “go play some gachas”

now, you stand awkwardly by blade’s side, the flashing lights casting a colorful glow over his impassive face. it’s hard to ignore how out of place he looks, his dark coat, sunglasses, and the mask covering his lower face a stark contrast to the lively atmosphere. 

yet, somehow, he doesn’t seem to mind the sharp sounds of arcade machines beeping nor the kids screaming in excitement. he just stands there, hands in his pockets, watching you fumble with a stack of game tokens.

“you look thrilled,” you mutter, a sarcastic tone in your voice as you glance at him.  it’s strange, though —there’s something oddly endearing about the way he’s standing there, the dark lenses of his sunglasses reflecting a faint outline of your own face. you catch yourself staring for just a moment too long, wishing you could see beyond the lens, wishing you could read his eyes—

you shake the thought off, it’s all just wishful thinking.

behind the shield of his sunglasses, blade’s eyes tracked your every subtle movement, almost unconsciously. he caught the way your expression softened as you turned toward the claw machine, how your lips curved ever so slightly when your gaze settled on that… thing.

it was maddening, how effortlessly you held his focus, how even a trivial moment like this could stir something deep in him. he told himself it was nothing, but the tightening in his chest said otherwise. 

he wasn’t one to indulge in sentiment, yet something about the way you stared at that silly plush made him restless, made him want to do something about it, if only to keep that smile on your face a little longer.

would your smile grow brighter if that plush were in your hands? 

“let’s go.”

“to where…?” you asked, glancing back at him, the curiosity evident in your voice.

he didn’t answer immediately, but you felt the familiar tug at your hand once again, gentle and insistent, as his gaze slips toward the claw machine where you had been staring earlier.

it’s not hard to imagine the scene as a sweet little moment, with him focused on the claw machine, trying to win you a plush like a doting partner would. 

with a soft click, the claw tightens around the plush, and before you can react, it’s being lifted out of the pile, swinging toward the prize chute. you can't help but stare as he pulls the soft toy from the machine with a sense of quiet satisfaction.

(you pocket the rest of the tokens. guess he won’t be needing those…  for a first-timer, he sure got lucky —must be beginners' luck, huh?)

you blink, slightly impressed. “wow, you’re good at this,” you remark, unable to hide the surprise in your voice. 

without a word, he hands the plushie to you. 

you tilt your head slightly, a bit unsure. “for me...?”

“it's yours. take it." he looks to the side; suddenly thankful for the mask —if it weren't for that, you'd surely see the crimson tint creeping up his cheeks right now.

you hesitate for a second longer before reaching out to take it, your fingers brushing against his, a tingle of heat pulses through you, leaving your hand feeling strangely warm.

“th-thank you," you manage to spit out, and your eyes dart away, suddenly very aware of how close he is. surely, this isn’t good for your heart!

the twilight sky stretches wide, the clouds are heavy, and you’re looking oh so earnestly at him. his heart beats a little faster, louder now, as if his body knows exactly what he wants but refuses to let him act on it.

but then, he blinks —once, twice; snapping himself back to reality. he can feel the space between you growing smaller, your presence growing closer.

his eyelids flutter shut instinctively.

and then, the soft press of your lips against his cheek.

a soft sigh escapes him, and his eyes crack open. if you could see his expression right now, you'd catch the vulnerability that flashes in his gaze. he swears he can feel the warmth of your kiss in his very bones.

though not quite the kiss he imagined… it was something. (re: you got his hopes up)

the shock of your own actions hits you like a wave. you swallow thickly, “sorry —i'll go find silver wolf.” avoiding his gaze as you fumble with the tokens in your hand. "i… i’ll pass the extra tokens to her."

without waiting for a response, you turn and hurry off, your pulse pounding in your ears, praying that the ground would swallow you whole.

that night, you lay in bed, the plushie clutched tightly in your arms. the softness of it contrasts sharply with the rush of confusion filling your chest. 

why was he being so kind to you? after everything, after the way he rejected you just a few days ago, it made no sense. his actions felt contradictory.

you try to push the memory of the kiss out of your mind; impulsive decisions… often lead to mortifying outcomes. though when you glanced at him afterward, you could’ve sworn his ears were tinged with red, just peeking out from beneath his hair. nevermind, it’s probably your mind playing tricks on you.

blade, who’s as cold as the frost-kissed dusk, walks beside you through the lively festival, his dark coat a striking contrast to the vibrant reds and greens around you.

the faint scent of roasted chestnuts and spiced cider fills the air, mingling with the sound of distant carolers. he doesn’t say much, but there’s something about the way his gloved hand brushes yours, intentionally or not —that makes the chill in the air feel less biting.

you swallow, focusing on the festive stalls ahead, the decorations glittering in the night. “you don't have to stick around, you know. i can manage by myself.”

his steps slow just slightly, and he turns his head toward you, finally speaking. “you think i’d just leave you here?”

the words catch you off guard, and you fumble for a response. “i-i just meant—”

“relax.” he interrupts, a faint, almost imperceptible smile tugging at the corner of his lips; his hand grazing yours again. this time, his fingers linger for a moment longer, almost as if testing the waters, before retreating back into the safety of his pocket.

your cheeks flush, and you pretend to be deeply interested in a nearby stall selling hand-knit scarves. just then, his voice cuts through the festive hum. “last week… when you said you liked me,” he starts, and your breath catches.

you whirl back to face him, your heart pounding. “don’t worry about it! really, i—”

“i wasn’t rejecting you,” he says, with an unexpected gentleness in his gaze. “i like you too, [name].”

blade removes his coat, the fabric warm against the cold air as he drapes it around your shoulders, pulling you closer. you stumble, your hand instinctively pressing against his chest to catch your balance.

you look up at him, your breath quickening, as his face draws closer, his eyes locked on yours with that familiar intensity. you let your eyelids flutter shut, lips trembling, heart pounding in your chest as the space between you narrows.

but instead of the kiss you were anticipating, you feel the gentle warmth of his lips brush against your forehead.

your eyes snap open in confusion, only to meet his smirking face. oh... this asshole!

“what?" he teases, his tone deceptively casual. “you seem pretty eager,” his voice drops an octave, hand gently tilting your chin as he leans in just close enough for you to feel his breath against your skin.

you glare up at him, your cheeks flushed with embarrassment. the way your lips quiver, unable to hold his gaze for long; the fact that he actually adores that flustered expression on your face... well, that’s when he realises. he’s too far gone.

what a dumbass lmfao

MASTERLIST.

[moonlightwritingf1]

Barcelona Nights | LN4

⋆˙⟡♡ summary ━━━━━━━ YN gets caught masturbating in the hotel room by Lando.

⋆˙⟡♡ pairing ━━━━━━━ Lando Norris x she!reader

⋆˙⟡♡ word count ━━━━━━━ 3.9k

⋆˙⟡♡ warnings ━━━━━━━ +18, sexual content

The Barcelona air was thick with the hum of engines and the buzz of anticipation. Y/n stood on the balcony of the luxurious hotel suite, her fingers gripping the railing as she watched the city lights flicker to life in the distance. She could still hear the faint roar of the crowd from the circuit, even miles away. Her heart had been racing all day, though not because of the cars—Lando’s presence had a way of doing that to her.

She sighed, running a hand through her hair. Why did I agree to this? she thought, though deep down, she knew the answer. Lando had been persistent, charming, and borderline irresistible since the moment they’d met six months ago. His playful teasing, his unwavering attention, the way his eyes always seemed to find her in a room—it was intoxicating. And yet, she’d kept her feelings locked away, afraid to admit them even to herself.

The sound of the door opening snapped her out of her thoughts. She turned to see Lando stepping inside, his McLaren cap backwards, his face flushed from the day’s events. “Hey,” he said, his voice warm but slightly breathless. “Sorry it took so long. Post-qualifying stuff, you know how it is.”

Y/n nodded, trying to act casual. “No worries. How’d it go?”

He grinned, that familiar sparkle in his eyes. “P2. Not bad, eh? But honestly, I couldn’t wait to get back here.” He walked over, leaning against the balcony railing beside her. “How about you? Enjoying Barcelona?”

“It’s… different,” she admitted, her gaze drifting back to the skyline. “But nice. Thanks for inviting me.”

“Like I’d leave you behind,” he said lightly, nudging her shoulder with his. His touch sent a shiver down her spine, and she quickly looked away, hoping he didn’t notice.

They stood there in comfortable silence for a while, the city’s energy wrapping around them like a blanket. Finally, Lando straightened up. “Listen, I’ve got some media stuff tomorrow morning early, so I’ll probably be out late tonight. You don’t have to wait up for me, yeah?”

She nodded, though a part of her wished he’d stay. “Got it. Don’t let me keep you.”

He hesitated, studying her face as if searching for something. Then, with a soft smile, he said, “Alright. See you later, yeah?”

“Later,” she echoed, watching as he grabbed a few things from the living room before heading out the door. The lock clicked shut behind him, leaving her alone in the spacious suite.

Y/n wandered back into the living room, her mind buzzing with restless energy. She poured herself a glass of wine, sipping it slowly as she tried to calm her nerves. But the more she sat there, the more aware she became of the tension simmering beneath her skin. It had been building for weeks—months, really—and now, alone in this lavish suite, it felt impossible to ignore.

She set the glass down, her fingers trembling slightly as she made her way to her bedroom. The room was large and elegant, with floor-to-ceiling windows offering a stunning view of the city. She closed the curtains, shutting out the world, and began to undress.

Her hands moved slowly, almost reverently, as she peeled off her clothes and let them fall to the floor. The cool air brushed against her bare skin, sending goosebumps across her body. She climbed onto the bed, her heart pounding as she reached for the dildo she’d packed in her luggage. It wasn’t something she normally brought on trips, but something about being here, in this city, in this suite, had compelled her.

She lay back against the pillows, her breath quickening as she positioned the toy between her legs. The first touch sent a jolt of electricity through her, and she bit her lip to stifle a moan. Her hips arched instinctively, craving more, and soon she was lost in the rhythm, her fingers moving in tandem with the toy.

Her thoughts drifted to Lando—his smile, his laugh, the way his eyes crinkled when he teased her. She imagined his hands on her body, his lips on her neck, his voice whispering her name. The fantasy consumed her, and soon she was moaning his name aloud, her hips grinding against the toy as her pleasure built.

Unbeknownst to her, Lando had returned to the suite way earlier than expected. He’d intended to grab something he’d forgotten, but the sound of her soft moans stopped him in his tracks. His breath caught, and he froze, his body reacting instantly to the realization of what was happening.

He crept closer to her bedroom, the door slightly ajar, and peered inside. The sight before him was enough to make his knees weak. Y/n was completely naked, her body glistening with sweat as she rode the dildo with abandon. Her breasts bounced with each movement, her face a mask of ecstasy as she whispered his name between gasps.

Lando’s hand instinctively went to his crotch, where he could feel himself hardening at the sight. He wanted to turn away, to give her privacy, but he was rooted to the spot, transfixed by her raw, unfiltered desire.

Then, as if sensing his presence, Y/n’s eyes flew open, locking onto his. For a moment, time seemed to stand still. Her movements faltered, and she scrambled to cover herself, her face flushing crimson. “Lando! Oh my god, I—”

He stepped into the room, holding up a hand to stop her. “Don’t,” he said softly, his voice low and husky. “Don’t apologize.”

She stared at him, her chest heaving as she tried to process what was happening. “I-I didn’t think you’d be back so soon,” she stammered, her voice barely above a whisper.

Lando took another step closer, his eyes never leaving hers. “Neither did I,” he admitted. “But I’m glad I was.”

Her breath hitched as he approached, his presence filling the room. She could see the hunger in his eyes, the same desire that had been simmering between them for months finally coming to a head.

“You were saying my name,” he said, his voice dripping with amusement and something far more primal. “Care to explain why?”

Y/n’s cheeks burned, but she held his gaze, refusing to back down. “What do you think?”

Lando smirked, closing the distance between them until he was standing at the edge of the bed. “I think,” he said, his voice dropping to a whisper, “that it’s about time we stopped pretending.”

Her heart raced as he leaned down, his face inches from hers. She could feel the heat radiating off his body, the intensity of his gaze making it impossible to look away.

“Lando…” she breathed, her voice trembling.

He cupped her cheek, his thumb brushing gently over her lips. “Tell me what you want, Y/n,” he murmured. “Because I’m done waiting.”

Y/n’s chest rose and fell rapidly, her breath caught somewhere between panic and desire as Lando’s thumb lingered on her lips. His eyes bore into hers, unrelenting, searching for the truth she had buried so deep inside herself. The air between them was charged, electric, and she felt like a single word could ignite everything.

“I…” she started, her voice barely audible, but Lando didn’t let her finish.

“No more hiding,” he said firmly, his hand still cradling her face. “Tell me, Y/n. Tell me what you want.”

Her heart pounded so loudly she was sure he could hear it. She swallowed hard, her walls crumbling under the weight of his gaze. “I… I want you,” she whispered, her voice shaking but clear. “I’ve wanted you for so long, Lando. I just… I didn’t think—”

He cut her off with a kiss, soft at first, testing, as if to make sure she meant every word she’d said. But the moment their lips met, something ignited—years of tension, longing, and unspoken feelings exploding in an instant. His other hand found the back of her neck, pulling her closer as his lips moved against hers with a hunger that left her dizzy.

She gasped into his mouth, her hands instinctively gripping his shoulders for balance. He deepened the kiss, his tongue brushing against hers in a way that made her entire body tremble. It was raw, passionate, and utterly consuming. Every thought in her head evaporated, replaced only by the feeling of him—his taste, his warmth, his strength.

When they finally broke apart, both of them were breathless. Lando rested his forehead against hers, his eyes closed, his breathing ragged. “God, Y/n,” he murmured, his voice rough with emotion. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that.”

“Me too,” she admitted softly, her cheeks flushed. Her fingers traced the line of his jaw, reveling in the roughness of his stubble. “But Lando… we can’t… not now. You have to get to the track again.”

He groaned, dropping his head onto her shoulder. “You’re killing me,” he muttered, his breath warm against her skin. “Do you have any idea how hard it’s going to be to focus tonight knowing you’re here waiting for me?”

The low rumble of his voice sent a shiver down her spine. She bit her lip, trying to suppress the smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. “Well, maybe you should’ve thought about that before you kissed me like that.”

Lando lifted his head, a devilish grin spreading across his face. “Oh, trust me, darling, that was just the beginning.” He leaned in, his lips brushing against her ear as he whispered, “Tonight, I’m going to make sure you forget your own name.”

Her breath hitched, and she felt a rush of heat pooling low in her stomach. She opened her mouth to respond, but he pulled away before she could, stepping back with a look of mock regret.

“Unfortunately,” he sighed, running a hand through his hair, “I really do need to go. But don’t think for a second I’m letting you off the hook.” He winked, backing toward the door. “Be ready for me tonight, Y/n. I expect you to make good on all those fantasies you’ve been having about me.”

Before she could protest or even process what he’d just said, he was gone, the sound of the door closing behind him echoing in the room. She stared after him, her mind reeling. Did he just…? Yes, he did. A blush crept up her neck as she realized exactly what he’d overheard.

Groaning, she flopped back onto the bed, covering her face with her hands. This is going to be a long night, she thought, her heart still racing from the intensity of his kiss.

---

As the hours dragged on, Y/n found herself restless. She tried to distract herself—took a shower, changed into something comfortable, even attempted to read a book—but nothing could quiet the storm of emotions swirling inside her. Lando’s words echoed in her mind, taunting her, teasing her. Tonight, I’m going to make sure you forget your own name.

Her stomach flipped at the memory, and she found herself wondering just how far he planned to take this. Would he keep teasing her like he always did, or would he finally give in to the undeniable chemistry between them?

By the time the sun began to set, she was a bundle of nerves, pacing the living room of the suite. Every creak of the floorboards made her jump, her anticipation growing with each passing minute. Finally, she heard the sound of a key card being inserted into the lock, and her heart leapt into her throat.

The door swung open, and there he was, looking as unfairly handsome as ever. His hair was slightly disheveled, and his shirt clung to his frame in a way that made her mouth go dry. He smirked when he saw her standing there, frozen in place.

“Waiting for me?” he asked, his voice dripping with amusement as he stepped inside and closed the door behind him.

She crossed her arms, trying to appear nonchalant despite the way her heart was pounding. “I wasn’t sure if you’d actually show up,” she replied, though the slight tremor in her voice betrayed her.

Lando chuckled, setting his bag down by the door before walking toward her. “You really think I’d miss this?” he asked, stopping just inches away from her. His gaze dropped to her lips, and she could feel the heat radiating off his body.

“What?” she challenged, tilting her chin up defiantly. “Got something to prove, Norris?”

His laugh was low and throaty, sending shivers down her spine. “Oh, darling,” he murmured, leaning in so close she could feel his breath on her skin. “I’m going to prove so much more than that.”

Lando stepped back, his eyes never leaving hers as he began to unbutton his shirt. “I’m going to take a shower,” he said, his voice low and teasing. “You’re welcome to join me.”

Y/n’s cheeks flushed, but she shook her head quickly, trying to hide the way her body reacted to his words. “No, thanks,” she replied, crossing her arms over her chest in what she hoped was a defiant gesture.

He smirked, clearly not buying her act, but he didn’t push it. Instead, he tossed his shirt onto the chair beside him and turned toward the bathroom, giving her one last lingering look before closing the door behind him.

The sound of the shower starting filled the suite, and Y/n let out a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. Her heart was still racing, and her skin felt hot everywhere Lando’s gaze had touched her. She glanced toward the closed bathroom door, then at the bed in his room, an idea forming in her mind.

What if I…?

Without giving herself time to second-guess, she slipped into his bedroom, closing the door softly behind her. She stood there for a moment, listening to the faint sound of water running from the shower, then slowly began to undress. Her clothes fell to the floor in a pile, and she stepped out of them, feeling exposed yet exhilarated. She climbed into his bed, pulling the covers up to her chin as she waited.

The minutes dragged on, each one stretching longer than the last. Her nerves were on edge, every sound making her jump slightly. Finally, the shower turned off, and she heard the bathroom door open. She held her breath, her heart pounding so loudly she was sure he could hear it.

Lando stepped into the room, towel slung low around his hips, his hair still damp and tousled. He froze when he saw her in his bed, his eyes widening slightly before a slow, knowing smile spread across his face. “Well, well,” he drawled, leaning against the doorframe. “Look who decided to make herself comfortable.”

Y/n bit her lip, trying to appear confident despite the way her pulse was racing. She shrugged, the motion causing the sheet to slip slightly, revealing the curve of her shoulder. “Your bed looked more inviting,” she said, her voice soft but steady.

“Is that so?” he asked, pushing off the doorframe and walking toward the bed. His movements were deliberate, each step bringing him closer until he was standing at the foot of the bed, looking down at her with a heated gaze. “And here I thought you weren’t interested in joining me earlier.”

She shifted under the covers, the sheet sliding down further to reveal the swell of her breasts. “Maybe I changed my mind,” she murmured, her eyes locked on his.

Lando chuckled, a deep, rich sound that sent a shiver down her spine. He reached for the towel around his waist, his fingers brushing against the fabric as he teased her with his next move. Slowly, almost torturously, he tugged the towel loose, letting it fall to the floor.

Y/n’s breath caught in her throat as she took in the sight of him. His cock was already hard, thick and throbbing, and she couldn’t help but lick her lips as her gaze traveled over him. God, he’s gorgeous, she thought, her mouth suddenly dry.

“Like what you see?” he asked, his voice laced with amusement as he watched her reaction.

She nodded, unable to tear her eyes away. “Very much,” she whispered, her voice barely audible.

Lando’s grin widened, and he climbed onto the bed, kneeling at the end as he leaned over her. “Then why don’t you show me just how much?” he suggested, his tone teasing but unmistakably serious.

Y/n hesitated for only a moment before sitting up, letting the covers fall away completely as she moved toward him. She crawled across the bed, her eyes never leaving his as she positioned herself between his legs. Her hands rested on his thighs, warm and firm beneath her touch, and she leaned forward, her breath ghosting over his cock before she finally took him into her mouth.

“Fuck,” Lando groaned, his head tilting back as her lips wrapped around him. His hands tangled in her hair, guiding her but not forcing her, letting her set the pace.

She took her time, exploring him with her tongue, savoring the way he throbbed in her mouth. She kissed him, licked him, played

She pulled back slightly, her lips still brushing against the tip of his cock as she spoke, her voice low and teasing. “You have a very nice cock, Lando.” Her tongue flicked out to taste him again, and he groaned, his hips jerking involuntarily.

“Fuck, Y/n,” he breathed, his hands tightening in her hair. “You’re going to kill me.”

She smiled, her eyes locking with his as she took him deeper into her mouth, savoring the way he filled her. She could feel him throbbing against her tongue, taste the saltiness of his skin, and it only made her want more. Her hand moved down to cup his balls, gently rolling them between her fingers as she sucked him, her lips moving up and down his length with practiced ease.

“I love your cock,” she murmured, pulling back just enough to speak before taking him in again. “I could suck it every day.”

Lando let out a choked laugh, his breath hitching as she worked him over. “You’re fucking insatiable,” he muttered, but there was no heat in his words, only awe and desire.

As she continued to pleasure him, she could feel herself growing wetter, her own need building with every moan that escaped his lips. She was dripping onto the bed beneath her, her arousal impossible to ignore. When Lando noticed, his eyes darkened, and a sly grin spread across his face.

“Look at you,” he teased, his voice thick with lust. “So fucking wet for me, aren’t you? My little slut.”

She blushed at his words, but they only fueled her desire, making her even more desperate for him. She moaned around his cock, her eyes fluttering closed as she lost herself in the sensation of him filling her mouth.

But Lando had other plans. With a growl, he pulled her off him, ignoring her whimper of protest. He flipped her onto her back, his eyes raking over her naked body like a predator sizing up its prey. His gaze lingered on the glistening wetness between her thighs, and he licked his lips hungrily.

“I need to taste you,” he declared, his voice rough with need. “Now.”

Before she could respond, he was on her, his mouth descending on her core with a hunger that left her gasping. His tongue delved into her, exploring her folds with an intensity that made her arch off the bed. She cried out, her hands tangling in his hair as he devoured her, his tongue lapping at her wetness like a man dying of thirst.

“Lando!” she screamed, her hips bucking against his face as he drove her closer and closer to the edge. Every lick, every suck, every thrust of his tongue sent waves of pleasure crashing through her, leaving her trembling and incoherent.

He paused for a moment, looking up at her with a wicked grin. “God, you taste so good,” he murmured, his breath hot against her sensitive flesh. “I could eat you out all day and never get enough.”

His words sent a shiver down her spine, and she whimpered, her nails digging into his scalp as she begged him not to stop. He didn’t need to be told twice. His mouth returned to her, his tongue working her clit with a precision that had her seeing stars. He slipped two fingers inside her, curling them just right, and she came undone, her orgasm crashing over her like a tidal wave.

“Fuck, Lando!” she cried, her body convulsing with pleasure as he continued to lick and suck at her, drawing out her release until she was left boneless and panting.

When he finally pulled away, his lips were glistening with her wetness, and his eyes were filled with desire. He crawled up her body, his cock pressing against her thigh as he kissed her deeply, letting her taste herself on his tongue.

“You’re mine,” he whispered against her lips, his voice fierce and possessive. “All mine.”

She nodded, her heart swelling with emotion as she wrapped her arms around him, pulling him closer. “Yours,” she agreed, her voice trembling with the weight of her feelings.

There was no turning back now. The tension that had been simmering between them for months had finally boiled over, and neither of them could—or would—put out the fire. They were consumed by each other, lost in a whirlwind of passion and desire that showed no signs of slowing down.

Lando positioned himself between her legs, his cock pressing against her entrance as he looked down at her, his eyes searching hers for any hesitation. There was none. Only want, need, and something deeper that neither of them was ready to put into words yet.

“I’m going to make you feel so good,” he promised, his voice husky with desire.

And then he was inside her, filling her completely as she gasped, her nails digging into his back. He started slow, allowing her time to adjust to him, but it wasn’t long before the pace quickened, their bodies moving together in perfect harmony.

“You feel incredible,” he groaned, his forehead pressed against hers as he thrust into her, each movement driving her higher and higher.

She couldn’t speak, couldn’t think, could only feel. The way he filled her, the way he touched her, the way he looked at her—it was overwhelming in the best possible way. She clung to him, her cries of pleasure mingling with his groans as they moved together, chasing the ecstasy that only the other could provide.

And when it finally came, it hit them both like a freight train, their bodies shuddering as they reached the peak together. Lando’s name spilled from her lips like a prayer, and hers from his like a promise, as they tumbled over the edge into blissful oblivion.

For a moment, they simply lay there, tangled together and breathing heavily, the world outside forgotten. But as reality began to creep back in, Lando rolled onto his side, pulling her with him so that she was nestled against his chest.

“Tell me this is real,” he murmured, his voice soft but urgent as he brushed a strand of hair from her face.

She looked up at him, her heart aching with the depth of her emotions. “It’s real,” she whispered, her voice barely audible. “It’s always been real.”

He kissed her then, softly, tenderly, as if sealing the truth of her words. And as they lay there, wrapped up in each other, the lines between fantasy and reality blurred, leaving only the undeniable truth: they were meant for each other.

[cvnntagious]

˗ˏˋ pornstar!chris films with someone new ‧₊˚

꒰part two ✩꒱ (coming soon)

creeping into chris' condo as quiet as possible with a wrapped gift in hand, a large smile took up most of your face at the thought of him opening it. though, the more you explored the area, the more discouraged you got before eventually giving up with a loud sigh at the realization that he wasn't home. but then, where was he? he always told you when he was going to be out, but today? he didn't even so much as leave you a text.

if not for chris updating you on his whereabouts becoming routine, you truthfully would've thought nothing of his sudden absence, but with a confused look on your face, you found yourself setting his christmas present on the coffee table in front of you to plop down onto his couch. you slipped your phone out of your back pocket, instantly typing away at it.

it was simple and straight to the point, leaving no room for confusion; you'd never been the type to beat around the bush. you weren't upset, really—more like confused, is all. and you waited. sitting idly on his couch as you waited for that little 'delivered' alert to turn into 'read'.

it didn't.

not for a while, at least. you ended up leaving his house only about half an hour after you sent the message, seeing no reason in just sitting there overthinking it. but you still did. going on about your day, trying to distract yourself from that nagging voice in the back of your brain that whispered 'where's chris at? what's he doing?' and 'you're not special. he got bored of you, silly,' at any moment you weren't occupying your mind with something else.

you knew you were probably overreacting; being dramatic in a way chris wouldn't like if he could hear your thoughts. i mean, it's not even like you'd be that upset if he had gotten tired of you. he was only some good dick and a person to keep you company... every single day for the past month. shit, you needed to know. picking up your phone in a swift motion as you now sat on your own couch, having tried to watch a show as means to keep your mind off chris, you checked your notifications in hopes that you'd missed his text.

but something new caught your eye.

a notification from chris' twitter, far different than anything you'd imagined throughout the day. of course you clicked it, a small breath of relief coming from you as you'd immediately told yourself he must've been busy with his executives. oh, he was busy alright.

your eyebrows raised at the sight before you: a short clip of chris plowing into some blonde with big tits, her moaning and whining in such a forced way. he was grabbing and squeezing at them. i mean, shit, he wasn’t even a boobs guy. it was so unlike him, completely disregarding his original intent for his content—keep it authentic. the caption only contained the hub link, telling his fans to watch the full video there.

dread sounds about right. a look of dread spread across your face, as if you'd just witnessed your worst fear. except it wasn't your worst fear. at least you didn't think it was, until now.

without thinking, you found yourself in chris' messages again, seeing the 'delivered' alert still there like a taunt. it was a slap in the face, really. not even the fact that he'd went and filmed with someone else, but the way he'd so clearly purposely failed to give you any type of warning.

once you'd sent the message, seeing the little text below your blue message change to 'read' instantly, it all suddenly felt pointless — all the worrying throughout the day, the dread you felt when you watched the short clip chris posted, the hurt when you saw he ignored your message, and now, even the message you literally just sent to him.

w/c : 645

a/n : i'm gonna try to bust these out the best i can, but y'all might have to bare w me cs i'm proly the worlds slowest writer... this may overlap with the au calendar as well, so to be clear, this isn't my priority. if i have to postpone parts of this to keep up with the prompts, i will. that being said, hope you guys enjoy my first multi-part tumblr fic <3.

-love, your grandma cvnty ☆!

[flemingsfreckles]

Perfect Present

Synopsis: based off of this prompt!

Warnings: language, discussion of R being in/out of foster care, some childhood trauma

WC: 2.0k

A/N: hi everyone, here’s just a quick little holiday blurb! Hope everyone is having a wonderful day, whether you’re celebrating a holiday or not! Quick reminder to drink some water and to be nice to yourself, holidays and this time of year can be a lot, take it easy, take care of yourself.

“Shit.” You mumbled to yourself for what felt like the thousandth time that evening. You just couldn’t get it right. Everyone else’s gifts wrapped so neatly, perfect corners, no wrinkles, to tears, everything was perfect about them. And then you stared at your own.

The box you were attempting to wrap looked more like a pile of torn paper, creased and crinkled in the most unappealing way. You weren’t stupid by any means, you just couldn’t seem to figure out how to wrap anything. Too much paper, not enough paper, too short on one side, it was never quite right.

“Hey, I just wanted to check on you.” The sound of your girlfriend’s voice from the other side of the room temporarily removed you from the spiral of self criticism you had entered.

“Don’t look please.” You attempt to cover the mess of paper, ribbons, and tape that surrounded you.

“I won’t.” When you look over to her, she’s got her back toward you, still wearing the matching Christmas pajamas her parents had gotten the two of you, looking down at your own matching set. “but I thought you’d be quick, it’s been almost 2 hours.”

You hadn’t told Jessie you had never wrapped a gift, she knew you hadn’t celebrated Christmas, but that didn’t mean you hadn’t ever wrapped a present.

Spending your childhood in the foster care system meant you never had consistent holidays. You had “celebrated” Christmas, some families focusing solely on the religious aspect, others caring more for Santa, you’d also spent your holiday season celebrating Hanukkah, Kwanzaa, even Saint Lucia Day one year, but nothing was ever consistent. You had no family traditions, everything was different every year.

When Jessie had invited you to spend the holiday with her family, you politely declined. The last thing you wanted to be was intrusive on their time together. Jessie let the issue go after pushing the invite on numerous occasions, getting rejected each time. It wasn’t until Jessie’s younger sister had called you up, demanding to know why you didn’t want to spend the holiday with her, as she joked ‘your favorite Fleming’. You politely tried to decline again, however being the more stubborn sibling, she asked what better plans you had, to which you confessed you had none and before you knew it you were booking flights to Ontario.

The Fleming’s had been nothing but welcoming and kind to you. You’d met them briefly over FaceTime and phone calls, once very quickly after a match, but this was your first time spending extended period of time with them and it was your first time in Jessie’s childhood home. You expected nothing less but their home gave off the feeling of warmth, of love and light, it felt welcoming from the second you walked in. It was a feeling that felt so safe but so uneasy for you at the same time.

You’d been in homes that felt welcoming and warm, only to be kicked out of them, berated in them, ignored in them, you’d grown to not quite trust the feeling of warmth. Which kept you on edge on your trip, waiting for the other shoe to fall, waiting for Jessie to tell you she doesn’t think the two of you will work, for her parents to decide they don’t think you’re deserving of their daughter, for the dogs to no longer snuggle up to you, you just kept waiting.

It seemed to never come. You’d suddenly been introduced to all the family traditions, baking cookies, gingerbread houses, matching pajamas, snowball fights, and movie nights, it was perfect. Until you had to wrap gifts. Everyone else wrapped The gifts they had bought before you and Jessie arrived. Jessie wrapped her gifts last night and you assured her you’d get yours done this evening, which led you to the mess you were currently sitting in.

“I’ve never wrapped a gift like this Jess. Everyone else’s looks perfect and straight out of one of those cheesy homemark movies you made us watch. Mine are going to look hideous next to them.”

“Hallmark.” She says, still facing away from you.

“What?” It’s hard to hear her, soft spoken to begin, while also facing away you had no idea what she said.

“Hallmark, they’re Hallmark movies, not homemark.” She corrects you, quickly turning with an innocent smile on her face.

Unenthusiastic about her need to correct you despite the obvious stress you were under, you just stare at her until a quiet apology comes from her mouth, the smile dropping from her lips. “Can I help?”

“No, you can’t see what I got you!” Your hands clasp over the box that sat in your lap, realizing it was possibly in her view.

“I’m not looking, I promise.” She turns back around to reassure you she couldn’t see what you had gotten her. Once fully turned her back toward you she talks again. “What if you put the gift for me in the other room real quick and I’ll help you wrap my family’s gifts? That way I can show you?”

Accepting her help was also admitting defeat in your eyes, but when you looked down to the mess you had already accumulated, you had no choice. “Okay.” You could put your pride aside for a bit. Jessie helping you wouldn’t be the worst thing, instead it sounded sweet, her teaching you something.

“Okay.” Jessie starts to make her way toward you and you quickly tuck the box under your pajama shirt before standing and moving to the other room. “It’s going on the table in here so don’t look at it.” You call to her as you set it down.

“Okay love, I won’t.” She responds. When you walk back in your mess already looks more organized and Jessie has a present centered on a large piece of wrapping paper. You take a minute just to admire her. Her curls nearly tucked behind her ears, Santa hat covering her head, her freckles looking like little stars across her skin. Her hands meticulously move the paper, picking up a pair of scissors and moving the tape closer, she pauses for a moment then begins moving again. There's a warmth that radiates from her, she makes you feel at home, no matter where you are. “Come here.” She smiles when she sees you watching her, gently waving you down.

You sit down beside her and are quickly thrown into Present Wrapping 101 taught by none other than your girlfriend. She shows you how she measures out the paper to make sure there’s enough but not too much. She shows you how to fold the paper, getting sharp corners. She provides you two demonstrations, wrapping both of the gifts for her parents before handing you another gift. “Your turn.”

You had paid attention while she had taught, but the second she handed you the box all the tips and tricks she had just shown you no longer existed. “I don’t know.” You turned the box over in your hands a few times, looking between Jessie and the wrapping paper in front of you.

“It’s okay, I’ll help. Start with measuring it.” You follow Jessie’s gentle direction, measuring out the paper cutting it and then beginning to fold the corners. After some attempts you let out a frustrated sigh throwing your hands up.

“I just can’t.”

“You can.” With a slow nod and a smile Jessie leans over to you, putting her hand on your thigh. “You can do it, it just takes practice.”

“Well it looks like shit, I knew it couldn’t be this perfect.” You mumble. It’s only a quick rescind before the half wrapped gift is pushed away and Jessie is now kneeling in front of you.

“Hey.” You just glance up meeting her soft brown eyes for a moment before your eyes fall back to your lap. “It’s paper, no one truly cares about the wrapping, it’s about the thought, the intention, no one expects it to be perfect.”

“Except you come from a family of perfectionists, perfect wrappers, perfect gingerbread houses, everything is so perfect, you have a perfect family and it terrifies me because I don’t, I don’t even have any family.” Your sentence has both you and Jessie realizing that your feelings were about more than just your inability to wrap a present. Jessie’s hands close around your cheeks. Her thumbs softly caressing your skin.

“You’re my family, and I’ll happily be yours.”

“I know that Jess, it’s just, I’m not used to this.”

“I know. I know this has probably been a lot. I’m sorry, I should’ve been checking in more.”

“It’s been really great, and that’s what scares me.”

“That it feels too perfect?”

“Exactly.” You sigh and Jessie moves to sit next to you, wrapping her arms around your shoulders and pulling you slightly to lean on her chest.

Her hand finds your head and she runs her fingers through your hair, her nails slightly scratching your scalp. “The other shoe isn’t going to drop.” Her hand continues to scratch. “You know that right? You’re welcome here, you’re safe here. I love you, my family loves you.” You nod against her chest. “I’m sorry I was naive and didn’t think that this isn’t what you’re used to, this isn’t comfortable for you.”

“Please don’t apologize.” It’s only when you go to speak that you realize the tear that is running down your cheek, you quickly wipe it before looking at your girlfriend. “Don’t apologize for bringing me into this perfect little life of yours just because I’m not used to it. I promise it’s been really nice, just makes me see what I missed out on growing up.”

Jessie doesn’t say anything, just leaning over to place her lips to your temple with a soft kiss. “I love you, I want you to be a part of my life, now and always.”

“I love you Jess, sorry I was so stubborn about coming home with you. It’s really been perfect.” You look down at the present beside you. “Well everything’s been perfect except my wrapping.”

“Well, practice makes perfect so, try again.” She jokingly shoves you off of her, pushing the roll of tape into your hand.

The next morning, you all huddled around the fireplace, gifts being passed around, mugs of coffee and tea keeping everyone warm. When nearly all the gifts had been passed out, you grabbed the one that made your heart race, the gift you’d gotten Jessie. It was a small necklace, an engraved map across the small disk with a tiny heart carved out, showing the location of where she asked you to be her girlfriend. The back had the date and your initials.

“Here.” You passed Jessie the box and watched as she quickly glanced over the box. The wrapping wasn’t perfect by any means. Uneven corners, too much tape, but it was wrapped and that’s what mattered.

“It looks good.” Jessie whispers to you, to which you rolls your eyes.

“Just open it.” You watch attentively as she unwraps it before pulling the lid off the box. Her eyes study the necklace, for a moment you think she has no idea what you’ve gotten her until she looks up to you and you can see the shine in her eyes.

“Sunrise Park?” Her questioning face breaks into a smile when you nod, confirming her guess. “Wow, this is so cool.” She turns the necklace over, looking at the inscription, before giving you another happy but tearful smile. “I love you.” She reaches a hand out, you take it in yours and just hold hands.

The two of you sit like that, her hand in yours as you watch the rest of her family open gifts. It was perfect, and for the first time in a long time, you didn’t feel the impending sense of doom. You felt warmth, happiness, and most importantly, safe. This was perfect, with Jessie it was perfect.

[starboye]

starring: bucky barnes x male reader

request: Hey, can you write a Bucky x bottom male reader smut? Y/N is a crossdresser and shows Bucky his new lingerie.

warnings: smut, sweet pet names, fingering innuendos, cursing

this was buckys favorite time of the week, you had just went out shopping with all your friends and bought home some new sexy clothes to try on and you know you have to give him a walk through of it all, trying and the different clothes and asking for his opinion on it, but it seems todays items were a little different.

"and what's these darling" bucky asks picking up a piece of lacy underwear from the bag before you snatch them away "i'll show you later" you smile skipping your way into the bathroom, bucky could hear you all giggly as you put on the slutty clothes seeing as you might be a little long he sat down on the couch, legs spread wide open waiting for his babyboy.

"so what do you think" you asks walking out in some sultry lingerie that had bucky quickly closing his legs to hide his growing erection "fuckin' hell you're gonna be the death of me darling" bucky muttered taking your hand and spinning you around to admire how the little clothing clung to your body so well before he pulled you onto his lap.

"wait i have to show you the other ones" you try to push off him but he pulls you right back to him and starts kissing your neck "no i wanna get a closer look at this one" bucky says leaving hickeys across your collarbone, his cold metal hand reaching down to grope your ass while his human on kept a tight grip on your neck.

"you look so fuckin' sexy y/n" he says pulling the underwear down to run his metallic fingers over your hole "no bucky not that one" you warn him before he caught his mistake and brought his human hand down to start fingering you open when he felt something wet already there, w-was that lube?

"already ready for me huh baby" bucky chuckles watching how you turn embarrassed as he figures out you wanted him to fuck you "i just need it bucky" you cling to him, arms wrapped tightly around his shoulders and he gives in, lifting you up slightly to finally free his aching hard cock to you which you instinctively try to touch "nope not this time darling let me take care of it" bucky coos.

he spits into his hand before lathering that on his cock, making sure it's nice and wet before he slides it into your tight hole, sucking him in so easily like a good boy, his hands find their way around your hips and bounce you up and down on his cock, listening to your moan out whimpers and whines as you feel his grip tighten on you.

"fuck bucky" you whine hiding your face in the crook of his neck, the scruffiness of his beard itching at your cheeks, he chuckled as he watch you struggle to handle him as if you guys didn't fuck just before you left today "you like that sweetcheeks" bucky teases you, his movements into you becoming rougher and rougher as he feels his climax creeping up.

"where do you want it" bucky quickly asks, reveling in the sound when you say "inside me daddy" with that whiny little voice making him cum on the spot, heavy breathes leaving both your mouths until bucky finally spoke up "how 'bout you show me that other outfit huh" he said jokingly but you actually did, limping your way to try on the next set of lingerie that would end up the same one that one has.

taglist:@mailmango @spermeboy @ghostking4m @gayaristocrat @addictedtomalepits @staarb0y @crispysoup318 @its-ares @gargoylesworld09 @znerac

[firegirl888101]

Insatiable Madness

Diverted-Dimension (Christmas 2024)

|Sagau Yandere Fatui Harbingers x Reader|

Why am I back here again!? Take me back to the canon!

Reader is Gender Neutral!

"Finally!" You cheered, stepping back to admire the Christmas tree in the corner of your living room.

"It looks good." Pantalone commented, looking at all the trinkets placed on the tree. "Although, I believe this gadget would look better placed there... And this bauble, yes, hmm, perhaps on the branch above rather than--"

Y'know, it always takes one person to ruin everyone else's happiness doesn't it? Especially when their name is Pantalone. You rolled your eyes, ignoring his fiddling with what you considered a complete and beautiful tree.

Let's just hope Columbina doesn't see him fiddling with her decorations. For Pantalone's sake, you pray she takes five extra minutes in the bathroom so he can have a safe getaway when he's finished with something he sees as necessary.

Anyway, you've been preparing for Christmas day tomorrow. You wanted to put up the tree earlier, not wanting to leave it this late, however being busy babysitting and making sure all the Harbingers go to work with a happy mood sure takes up a lot of time. Not only does it feel like you're playing a very dangerous version of the Sims, but more importantly, it sucks that when all of them leave you have to entertain the others that don't go to work in the first place.

"It feels like the tree is missing something." Dottore chimed in, standing back with a finger on his bottom lip.

"Please don't say that, The Regrator is already driving himself mad with his own activities." Arlecchino stated 

Ignoring those two... They're right, something seems wrong with the tree. But you used everything in the box, what could be missing --

Oh, of course! How could you forget!?

"It's missing an angel on top!" You pointed out, walking over to the Christmas box and rummaging around.

After a while of digging and loud crashing noises consisting of you throwing out whatever you thought could also be added, you found a dusty china angel missing a hand.

"Agh, this won't do." You scolded yourself. "We'll have to go with a star instead. I'll have to cut one out later."

"Cut one out? How are you going to cut a star out of the sky?" Childe asked with a bewildered expression.

"They mean they'll cut one out of paper you damn idiot." Scaramouche glared out of the corner of his eye.

"I often see the Children of the Hearth doing something similar when I pass by..." Signora thought to herself out loud, leaning on one of the arms of the sofa.

"Yes, the children love cutting out different shapes and animals. It just so happens stars are one of the easiest things to make." Arlecchino nodded in agreement.

If it's so damn easy, why don't you do it for me?? You grumbled with an angry grin. It took you a few days to learn how to cut a good looking star out of paper due to your clutzy fingers, how dare they call it 'easy' in front of you!

"Hm? Why do you look angry at me?"

"No reason." You answered her, sharply turning your head away from her tilted one. "Do I even have any paper left? Ugh, I might have to use lined paper and paint it using gold nail varnish if push comes to shove."

"Absolutely not." Sandrone interrupted you. "That sounds messy and unnecessarily more difficult than if you just bought yellow card."

"And where do you propose I get this yellow card? Out of my arse?"

"No." She looked repulsed. "The shop? I saw some in an isle."

"When and why did you go into the corner shop?" You caressed your head, sighing when hearing her solution.

"That's unimportant."

"Sure it is. Anyway, I need to start thinking about how I'm going to cook Christmas dinner--"

"Oh no you don't." Scaramouche interrupted you with a cold voice. "The last time you cooked a genuine meal that didn't include those 'instant noodles', you poisoned everyone who has an organic stomach."

"No way, the Balladeer cares enough about me to not want to see me bedridden again?" Childe gushed with a chuffed smile.

"That's not important!" You raised your voice with flushed cheeks. "How did you know that what I cooked was 'instant' noodles? I never told you that!"

"I asked a staff member in the shop down the street when I saw the exact same package for sale in one of the pasta isles."

"Oh my god, how many of you have been in that damn shop without me!?"

The room stayed silent, some looking away with a cringe whilst others looked at you with unbothered faces.

“Do I count? I’ve never left the house.” Capitano raised his hand innocently.

"Unbelievable." You cried to yourself dramatically.

"I can't believe he's still fiddling." Pulcinella sighed with judging eyes, watching the banker radically move around the tree mumbling to himself like a robot given an impossible task.

"So this is what happens when you don't give him something to do after a long period of time. Lesson learnt." Pierro sweated, coughing into a clenched fist with shut eyes.

"It's not my fault." He turned to the group with hysterical eyes, every so often one twitching. Considering his eyes are always closed, you’re impressed that his mania has managed to do the impossible. "The Decider won't let me do one of the things I'm best at, manipulating an economy. Denying me access to undermining this country's government is making me go mad!"

"What a lunatic." You ignored him, eyeing his antics as nothing more than a regular occurrence at this point.

"So, we're up for cutting a star for the tree then?" You turned back to the group.

"It's your decision and your tree, so of course." Signora shrugged.

"I'm baaaack!~" Columbina burst through the door like a canary, singing with a pep in her step.

She stopped when she saw Pantalone running around the tree, her energy from earlier vanishing as fast as a bird when hearing a gunshot.

"Erm... It's not what it looks like." He turned around slowly, feeling her menacing and dangerous energy piercing his back.

He put his hands in the air, his smile shaking in fear.

"It better not be what it looks like." Her smile contrasted his own. "Because it seems you've been touching something I specifically warned all not to touch.~"

"He's dead, he's actually dead." Childe commented on the sidelines.

"Amen."

... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ...

Sandrone left to go get yellow card whilst Columbina forced you to tear down the Christmas tree and start decorating it from scratch. She said it was a punishment for you also, due to letting him rearrange it despite hearing her warning. What bullshit, she just couldn't be bothered to do it again. Anyway, Capitano helped you hold the christmas tree up so you could wrap the tinsel around it without trouble. What a nice guy… even though he technically isn’t helping you with what counts most.

"I don't understand why we're cutting out stars. Can't we just use me as the angel?" Columbina giggled to herself.

"No, that would be weird." You frowned at her. "What I don't understand is why everyone is cutting stars with me. Didn't the majority of you say this is going to be boring? Do something else!"

"The 'something else' you're talking about was also boring." Scaramouche picked up his pair of scissors, tracing his finger on the sharp side.

“I’d much rather cut something up than count how many particles are in a cloud.”

“What does that even mean!?”

“Anyway,” Dottore coughed with an irritated stretching smile. “I propose we make this a competition.”

“Of all the childish suggestions–” Arlecchino was cut off.

“I agree, I agree!” Columbina nodded with a happy smile. “It can’t be too hard, maybe we should have a reward for who wins the competition?”

“Although I find the idea of a competition to be senseless, a reward does sound quite… boosting.” Pantalone thought out loud, a greedy smile on his lips.

“This is not happening.” You sighed to yourself, head planted onto the table with exasperation radiating off of your slumped form.

“But what reward could we put on offer? I’m not against competition, heck, I encourage it! But what could we all fight for which would allow us to fight at our strongest the whole time?” Childe leaned against his chair.

The Harbingers thought to themselves, the room erupting in silence with the occasional cough or sniff. All of a sudden, their heads turned and looked at you. Feeling their gazes burning into you, you looked up from the table to see them expectantly eyeing you.

“Ohhh no. No way in whatever thoughts you’re all sharing am I getting involved in this. I’m not becoming some trophy you can flaunt for the rest of the evening.” You denied them.

“But you’re the perfect solution!” Childe playfully pouted.

“Quit torturing them, Childe.” Signora scolded the young ginger. “I propose this; let whoever wins ask The Decider one question. That question can be related to anything, the future or the past.”

“Hmm, but how would we know whether The Decider wouldn’t lie to us?” Dottore suggested.

“I’m staying out of this one.” Pulcinella put his hands in the air, leaving the room. “You youngsters go have fun, I’ll sit this one out.”

“Rooster, I would suggest staying to supervi–”

“So you can go back to that dirty office you keep closing yourself in to work? No thank you, I shall handle your paperwork today. You supervise this time.” He gave the director a harsh glare, making sure to purposefully hit him with his walking stick before walking away.

“Sometimes I can’t tell whether the Rooster is secretly a teenage girl or is just simply strange…” Pierro muttered to himself. Sighing.

“How about both, mixed in with the fact that he’s a psycho with more control issues than you think.”

“Hm? You think even more than the Regrator?”

“Deffo.” You clicked your tongue. “He just hides it because he’s a champ like that.”

“Don’t change focus!” Scaramouche raised his voice. “I order you to answer me. You will tell the truth to the victor of the contest, no?”

“Hold on, didn’t we agree to ask our own questions once we deliver them to the Tsaritsa?” Childe questioned.

“That was just to get you to not hound The Decider back when we first found them.” 

“Fine.” You agreed with an eye roll, secretly crossing your fingers behind your back like a five year old. You’ll probably just make something up that sounds accurate when the winner asks their question. You’re betting that Sandrone will win this though, this kind of has something to do with her job after all.

“It’s decided then!” Columbina clapped in delight. “The Decider and The Director will be our judges. We’ll work for 10 minutes to create a star suitable to be put on the tree, then will be judged to see who has the best!”

“This is not gonna go well…” You said, trying your best to cover the shaky smile on your face. This is the best! You’ll just pick someone who won’t ask a question you don’t mind answering! Thank you Columbina for giving you this chance.

“You’re telling me!” Pulcinella shouted from the other room, sarcasm oozing like tar glooping down a slope.

“Count us down, count us down!” Columbina couldn’t contain her excitement, her body practically vibrating.

“Alright, alright… Ugh, I regret this… On your marks, get set, cut!”

“Seriously? ‘Cut’?” Pierro turned to you.

“What was I supposed to say!?”

The Harbingers sat at the table immediately started cutting, the sound of card shredding and small pieces emitting everywhere. Guess who’s going to have to clean that up? You thought with a frown, watching card pile up in the small crevasses in your carpet.

Looking around at the Harbinger’s cutting paper, you realise one was just sitting there watching the others work.

“Uhh, Capitano? Aren’t you going to begin?” You asked him.

“No.” His deep voice answered in return. “I am not going to join this display, no matter how entertaining it will be for you. Firstly, my fingers won’t fit in the holes of the scissors. And secondly, I have no question to ask you so entering just for victory would be pointless.”

“Brother, your fingers can’t be that big.” You deadpanned, letting your mind wander a bit too far with the thought.

He simply crossed his arms and continued to watch the others, ignoring you from then on. Oh well, he’s not interfering or arguing back like a child so you’ll let it happen. Besides, it looks like he quite likes watching so it’s the least you could do.

Pierro put an arm on your shoulder, getting your attention. You turned to make eye-contact and saw him hesitating in what to say to you.

“Do you need a defibrillator? You look like you’re having a seizure.”

“Who do you think is going to make the best star?” He said after, not registering your insult you said a few seconds prior.

“Wow. Did it really take you that long to think of what to say to me?”

“Quiet.” He warned you.

“Hmm… Who do I think is going to win?” You mumbled out loud, pretending to give it some thought. “Screw it, I’m not going to pretend. Sandrone’s going to make the best one because she does this kind of thing as a job.”

“Hah!” She guffawed after hearing your predictions, continuing her cutting with a content smile.

“Buuuut, that’s not what makes a star special. It isn’t just perfection, but passion and hope. I want to see how unique some people will make it… within reason of course.”

“I wasn’t expecting such an intelligent reply.” Pierro sweated. “Here I was, ready to scold you.”

“It’s like that’s all you can ever bloody think about when it comes to me.” You deadpanned.

“You give me no choice half of the time.” He sighed with a shaking head. “Your choices are often questionable and must be corrected. Would you rather have a physical punishment instead?”

Is this guy nuts?

“No… No, I would not.”

“That's what I thought.” He turned to look at the competition.

“Decider, help me out here.” Scaramouche clicked his fingers, beckoning you like an old woman would to her juvenile cat.

“Do I look like your pet?” You recoiled in disgust.

“I’ll let you leave the house to go to that dumb park you like if you help me right now.”

“I’m on my way!” You ran over to his side, peering down to see the mess of a star he’s created. It’s not bad at all, it’s actually your style - you like it a lot! What on earth could he need help for?

When you peered down to his design, you felt a cold unnatural hand grasp the side of your head and pull it closer to his face.

“Tell me how you like them.” He whispered. “Would you rather me add more detail or remove it? And don’t lie to me or I’ll kill you.”

“Pierro, The Balladeer is cheating! He’s bribing The Decider!” Sandrone pushed her chair back and stood up dramatically, pointing her scissors at the offender.

“Hey, no fair!” Childe whined. “If he gets to bribe them, let me bribe them too!”

“If anyone is to bribe the Decider, it should be me. I am the richest man in Teyvat after all.” Pantalone shrugged whilst lazily cutting.

“Correction: Ningguang is the richest in terms of all. You only count as the richest when it comes to being a man.” You pointed out. “And besides, I would never take your dirty money.”

Piero coughed loudly to quieten everyone down, all in the room turning to him like a deer in headlights. He waited until everyone stopped complaining and then spoke.

“Do continue with your cutting, you have less than a minute left.” He gestured to the timer. “And no bribery. The first to test my patience and even attempt to do so will be put under experimentation during the rest of our stay here and our return.”

“Oh, by all means, bribe away!” Dottore laughed at the Harbinger’s around him, silently cutting.

Huh? Less than a minute left? But when you last looked at the time they had at least 8 minutes left. You checked the timer once more, and found fat greasy fingerprints on buttons that weren’t there prior. You turned to the old man with an incredulous face, mouth wide open. He caught your staring, and put a finger on his lips with a small almost unnoticeable smile.

Pierro, you cheeky bastard. I love you for this.

... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ...

The stars were laid out on the dining table, each Harbinger stood behind their own creations. Sadly but also un-sadly, some Harbingers were too slow and couldn’t finish their star in time. By some, you mean Pantalone and surprisingly Sandrone.

“I’m not going to hear the end of this.” Sandrone had her face buried in her hands, looking at her creation with malice. “In defence, I value time to craft perfection. Announcing a set time dampens my methods and results in mechanics such as this one. Ugh, what a waste!” She threw the craft off of the table, the star unravelling itself immediately.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. Of course.” You sarcastically waved at her embarrassment. “And you, Pantalone? What’s your excuse?”

“The scissors you gave me were tampered with! I call for–”

“So I’m the problem? Okay, whatever…”

You walked down the table, looking at each star neutrally then nodding and moving onto the next. Now, you’re not an expert, but did they really think you wouldn’t notice? They all look the exact same! They all look like copied versions of Scaramouche’s design! When watching him try to bribe you, they must have thought you liked his design the best and copied him to have a fair chance. Well, they’re wrong! You’re just going to pick the person who will give you the least trouble when answering their question, jokes on them!

…That was your original plan. After looking at all the stars, you felt a new motivation when noticing one person didn’t copy and stuck to their own principles. Also they may or may not be the only person to not take this seriously and you want to mess with the others a little bit. Pierro will agree with you, he’s the type to disregard any copycats so he won’t have trouble with your choice at all.

“Okay, I’ve decided on my winner.” You announced, stepping back to view the expectant Harbingers.

“Arlecchino, you win.”

“WHAT!?”

“But why?” She asked, not looking surprised or pleased. “I could care less about an answer to a question, nor do I care about winning this childish competition.”

“That’s actually why I picked you. And because your star is an original design - sorry Scara, but uhh, you might have won if the others didn’t copy.”

“Of course.” He grumbled, glaring at the Harbingers staring at him. “One day, I’m going to murder all of you fools and sell your parts to people far worse than Dottore! I’ll get back at all of you for ruining my chances!”

“Anyway,” You tuned his violent voice out. “Yeah, you’re the winner. Pierro, what do you think?”

“...I agree.” He said in a quieter tone. “Now, I will be returning to my office to continue what’s left of my work… and review what The Rooster has already completed.”

As he was walking away, you turned back to notice the majority of Harbingers had walked away to go back to what they were doing prior, bored after realising they wouldn't be able to profit with staying around for longer.

“Do I get to ask my question now?” Arlecchino tapped her elbow impatiently with folded arms.

“So you do want the reward?”

“Despite it not being my intention when joining, I would indeed like something that was promised. Whether it be an accident or a purposeful decision.”

“Okay, fine. Ask away then.” You shrugged.

“As you must already be aware, the majority of my Children from the Hearth hail from Fontaine, the nation of justice. I won’t lie to you, I’m beginning to grow increasingly concerned with the prophecy where–”

“--where the whole nation will be flooded and all the people will be killed except the archon? Yeah, I know of it. Your point?” You finished her explanation, already having an idea of where the conversation was heading.

“Then you will understand I care deeply about the future of my children. Tell me, will I succeed in convincing the Tsaritsa to visit Fontaine to retrieve the Gnosis in place of Rosalyne?”

“Of course you’d use the question to ask about your ‘precious children’.” Scaramouche mocked. “Just how idiotic can you be?? This is your chance to ask about the future!”

You gave a harsh glare with icy eyes in his direction before sighing, a smile on your face. “Yeah.”

“Hm? You have to give a higher detailed response to that.”

“You go to Fontaine, Childe coincidentally also there for his own personal motivations which may or may not be important. The whole time you’re there, you’re investigating Furina and the prophecy. Long story short, that I WILL NOT be elaborating, the prophecy is sorted and the people are saved. This includes the children in the House of the Hearth.” You explained, pleased with the question she asked you and your own personal answer. Wow, you can even impress yourself sometimes!

“Excellent.” She sighed in relief, her face unchanging. “Thank you. But I do have to ask, is the Hydro Archon really working to prevent the flood?”

“That’s two questions. But fine,” You shrugged. “You can trust her. Everything is proceeding to the plan, although interrogation and suspicion do indeed accelerate it to completion.” You thought out loud, noticing her questioning gaze and smiling deeper.

“That’s enough serious stuff. When are we going to discuss presents? Now that the tree is up we need to put the presents under it!” 

“Uh… We’re flat-out poor. We can’t afford presents.” Childe shrugged. “Guess you’ll have to accept my love as a present instead!”

“Ew, what are you, five? Wait… Don’t come over here! Not after saying something like that!” You panicked, watching him run over to you at full speed and choosing to run away.

“Scaramouche you know how you said you’d take me to the park? I’m cashing in that favour right now!”

[lokiandbuckysdoll]

Early Christmas Gift

Paring: Stucky x Reader

Summary: Bucky and Steve surprise you for Christmas.

Word Count: 820

Warnings: None just some Christmas fluff.

A/N: Happy Holidays to all💗

It was a crisp December morning morenotably, it was Christmas Eve when Steve and Bucky decided to surprise you early for Christmas. The plan had been simple. They'd show up unannounced to your apartment, sneak in, and catch you off guard before you could finish whatever holiday preparations you had in store. They’d expected to see you wrapped up in holiday cheer, maybe a little frantic, but still festive.

But when they arrived at the door and slipped inside quietly, they found something entirely different.

The apartment was warm and smelled of cinnamon, gingerbread, and butter, the scent of holiday baking filling the air. The kitchen, however, was another story. Flour was scattered across the counters like a soft dusting of snow, and pots and pans cluttered every available surface. You stood at the stove, hair tied up in a messy bun, flour streaked across your cheeks, and a little bit of icing smeared on your cheek as you worked over a batch of cookies, humming softly to yourself.

The sight made Steve’s heart swell with affection. Bucky, for his part, couldn't stop smiling as he leaned against the doorframe, taking in the chaos that somehow felt like home.

You didn’t notice them right away, lost in the rhythm of cooking and baking. You were wearing an oversized red sweater with a reindeer on it, the sleeves rolled up to your elbows, and a pair of old leggings that had seen better days. A pair of mismatched Christmas socks peeked out from beneath the leggings, and your feet shuffled back and forth as you worked, clearly oblivious to the world outside the kitchen.

It was the perfect kind of mess. The kind of mess that told them you were relaxing, wrapped in the joy of the holiday spirit and the comfort of your own home.

Bucky cleared his throat, and You jumped, nearly knocking over the bowl of cookie dough in your hands. You spun around, wide-eyed, a little flustered, and immediately blurted out, “You two are home now! I’m in the middle of baking, I look like a disaster, and—”

But Steve was already stepping forward, grinning as he gently cut you off. “You look perfect, Doll. We didn’t mean to surprise you this way, but we couldn’t wait for Christmas.”

Bucky snorted, stepping into the kitchen. “Yeah, Steve’s right. We love seeing you like this—chaos and all.”

You blinked, then looked back at the kitchen. You hadn’t expected your boyfriends to see you like this, especially not before Christmas. There were flour smudges on the floor, sticky sugar dribbled down the front of your sweater, and you felt like a mess. But as you met their eyes, both men looked at you like you were the most beautiful, glowing person in the world.

A little self-conscious, you wiped at your cheek. “Well, I guess if you two can handle the kitchen disaster, I’ll just have to finish baking,” you said, with a teasing tone in your voice.

Bucky chuckled and pulled up a chair at the kitchen table. “Don’t mind us. We’re happy to watch and eat whatever you throw at us. This smells amazing!.”

Steve leaned against the counter, arms crossed, his gaze soft and affectionate as he watched you. “Yeah, we came early to help, but looks like you're handling everything just fine.”

You rolled your eyes but grinned. “You want to help?” You asked, raising an eyebrow, and Bucky immediately jumped up.

“What do you need me to do?” he asked, his enthusiasm making Steve laugh.

You handed him a bowl of pre-made dough. “You can start by rolling out these cookies. Try not to eat too many of them, alright?”

Bucky saluted you, then began rolling the dough with a level of focus that was almost comical. Steve found himself a spot on the counter, watching you both work in a comfortable silence, the sound of flour dusting the air and the soft hum of the oven filling the room.

At that moment, you caught Steve’s gaze again, your smile soft and genuine. There was something about this chaos, about sharing it with them, that made the holiday season feel even more special. They weren’t just coming home for the cookies or the presents or the decorations—they were here because they wanted to be with you, mess and all.

Steve smiled back, his heart full. “We wouldn’t want to be anywhere else, than with you” he leaned over and kissed your forehead. You hummed before going back to helping Bucky.

Sook the kitchen was filled with laughter, the clinking of baking utensils, and the warmth of love, it was clear that this Christmas would be one they'd all remember. No perfectly decorated tree, no perfect holiday meal could ever be more meaningful than moments like these. Just the three of you, together, enjoying each other’s company in the mess of the holiday season.

Tags 🏷️

@caothicshit @missvelvetsstuff @hallecarey1 @just-another-blog34411 @foxherder @springdandelixn @hannibals-favourite-meal @imyourbratzdoll @silverfire475 @vbecker10 @sarahrogersevans @tomandcakes @lyds247 @raajali3 @supraveng @kingkamk @loopsisloops @lokischambermaid @mochie85 @nana1000night @ladyofthestayingpower

[bows4tyun]

ENLIGHTEN ME - ! ⸝⸝ 강태현

୨ৎ: ""I'm a virgin, not a virgin loser, there's a difference, dumbass." taehyun spat out harshly and scoffed, "I can't believe you thought so low of me, but it's cute of you to think I was a virgin loser like you." he faked a smile, angering you a bit. of course he had to be the smart ass one. "

𓍼 paring! - knowledgeable virgin!taehyun x virgin!reader (f)

𓍼 warnings! - roomates to ?, mean dom!taehyun (he's extra mean!), sub!reader, they kinda hate each other, taehyun basically teaches reader how to fuck, groping, nipple play, oral (m. receiving), cum consumption, unprotected sex, slut shaming, taehyun calls reader a slut (and bitch but only once)

𓍼 lexi adds! - as the winner of the poll, here is knowledgeable virgin tyun!!! this came out a lot longer than i thought and I couldn't help but make tyun an extra mean dom!

if someone had told you that your roommate, taehyun was a virgin, you wouldn't have believed them.

he was the last person on earth that you'd think of as a virgin, but apparently you thought wrong. it wasn't until his best friend, beomgyu had told you the truth that you were in for a treat.

taehyun had invited beomgyu over without telling you, meaning you had come back from work and had a mini heart attack when you saw beomgyu's sleeping form sprawled on the small living room couch.

"taehyun!" you yelled, your voice echoing through the hall of your shared apartment.

you thought he wasn't home until you saw the upper half of his body pop out from his room, "hm?" his tone innocent as his cold yet cute boba eyes stared at your angered form.

"what is he doing here?" you questioned, your voice loud as you turn your gaze to beomgyu, not caring of waking him up from his beauty sleep.

"would you quiet it down? you'll wake him up." he spoke back sternly. you look back at taehyun, and when you do you notice something, he's shirtless.

you feel the blood rush to your cheeks as they warm up and you cover your eyes with your hands, "put some clothes on!" you say, trying to hide the very evident blush on your face.

"what's the big deal? never seen a man shirtless before? grow up." his words come out as almost teasing yet harsh and you scoff.

"I have seen a man shirtless, I just don't want to see you shirtless." the blush on your face was practically gone with the way you were talking back to him.

"what are you trying to imply, huh?" taehyun spoke as he approached you, still shirtless, a shirt in hand.

before taehyun could get too close to you, your life is saved by beomgyu, "hey taehyun, get this motor mouth out of here, im trying to sleep." beomgyu's voice sounded as tired and sleepy as he looked, his hair disheveled from all the tossing and turning.

"you heard him, get." and with that, taehyun points a finger toward the door of your room, insinuating for you to basically get lost.

"I hate you..." you mumbled under your breath as you clenched the strap of your bag tightly and stormed off to your room as told.

"the feeling's mutual, sweetie." beomgyu laughs at taehyun's response, giving him a small "good one" before adjusting his position and getting ready to fall back asleep.

you're caught off guard by the pet name he had called you and you stop in your tracks, turning your head only to an angle where you can see he back of his head, "don't ever call me that again." you threaten. and with that, the door of your bedroom is slammed shut behind you.

⸝⸝

the following day is your day off, meaning you could relax from all the hard work you had put in throughout the week.

starting off your morning slowly, sleeping a few more hours than usual until you're finally completely awake that you get a text from beomgyu:

"your yelling yesterday made me sleep really good,thanks for not kicking me out :)"

with a scoff you reply:

"don't ever scare me like that ever again, give me a heads up next time!"

to your surprise, he's quick to respond:

"okok... wanna know something funny about taehyun? you won't believe it!"

you want to respond with a "no" but curiosity gets the best of you:

"what?" "he's a virgin!" "seriously?" "yeah! can you believe it?" "not really... " "oh c'mon! it's not that unbelievable!"

with that, you don't text him back. was taehyun really a virgin? maybe beomgyu was playing a prank on you. it kind of was a bit hard to believe considering the way he acts around you, all cold and hard headed. maybe you'd ask him about it.

you were enjoying your morning bowl of cereal before taehyun walks in, his hair a mess from not brushing it out as he scratches the back of his neck lazily in his plain white tee and loose fitting pajama pants.

"is that seriously what you're having for breakfast?" he asks with attitude, sitting down with his elbows resting on the kitchen counter.

you nod, chewing your food calmly "yeah, want some?"

despite your somewhat kind offer, his response is full of disgust. "no , there's absolutely no protein in that whatsoever."

you reply back with a scoff, "does it really matter that much? you're so difficult..." you take another bite and taehyun stares at you for a few seconds, his lip twitching as if he were going to smile but stopped himself.

"oh! taehyun, I have something to ask you." you say after swallowing the last bite of your breakfast and your eyes meet with his.

he nods his head nonchalantly, "what's up?"

you're a bit nervous to ask but you anyways, "are you a virgin?"

silence.

his eyes widen and his lips part, shock evident on his face. he's speechless. after a few more silent seconds, he speaks up, "who told you that?"

"beomgyu"

"what an asshole." he said in anger "who does he think he is to tell everyone my secrets? "

you laugh nervously "secrets? so you mean it's true? you're a virgin? a loser?"

"I'm a virgin, not a virgin loser, there's a difference, dumbass." taehyun spat out harshly and scoffed, "I can't believe you thought so low of me, but it's cute of you to think I was a virgin loser like you." he faked a smile, angering you a bit. of course he had to be the smart ass one. "you act as if you're not a virgin too, except, you are a virgin loser." he argued back like his life depended on it.

and you're just as shocked as he was, if not more. "who the hell told you that?" you questioned him angrily, wanting to know the truth.

taehyun lets out a villainous chuckled to your reaction, "no one. I just had a lucky guess. but now I know that my lucky guess was right, you are a virgin loser."

There's a faint pink hue of blush is spreads across your face from both anger and embarrassment "what's the difference?" your tone of voice was loud as you shouted but taehyun didn't even flinch.

"the difference is that I know about sex, you on the other hand have probably never seen a dick before, am I right?" he was right, very right infact.

"stop talking about it!" you spoke, frustrated at how you couldn't get back at taehyun.

"calm down, sweetie" he cooed, tilting his head and smirking at the stressed look on your face, his dimple evident. "wanna help each other out?"

⸝⸝

that's how you ended up here, straddling taehyun, his hands on each of your hips as he stared into your eyes coldly.

being in such and intimate position like this with him made you nervous as you spoke, "d-do you have a condom...?"

he shrugged, "what do you think? would a virgin have condoms?"

you look down, noticing the bulge that at had grown in his pants. heat rises to your face again and you shake your head.

"exactly." he speaks with such bluntness it scares you a bit. "now stop asking dumb questions and get your clothes off."

you obey not wanting to anger him more than he already seemed. he always seemed to be in a bad mood. slowly one by one, you took a piece of your clothes off. it wasn't until you were only in your undergarments that taehyun ripped them off your body, causing you to yelp. "could you be any slower? you're making me not want to take your virginity, this is my first time too, y'know. "

you felt so weird, naked in front of him. he looked at your body as if it were nothing. he definitely didn't act like the virgin he claimed to be.

without saying anything, his pulled his white tee off his body, letting you get a better view of his shirtless form.

you couldn't deny that taehyun was attractive, but seeing him like this made him even more attractive.

"quit staring, will you? don't make this weird." soon, he pulled down his pants enough for his cock to spring out, hitting his lower stomach with a small slap. you back up a bit, his big and thick dick enough to scare you away. how on earth were you supposed to fit that monster inside of you? "why do you look so scared, hm? it's just a dick." he said nonchalantly. just a dick? was he serious?

You take a deep breath, he was right. it wasn't something to be afraid of, this was an experience almost every person on earth had, nothing new. "okay, how do I do this?"

taehyun doesn't talk, instead he guides you hips closer to his, lifting you with ease just enough for you to hover over his dick, your hands on his shoulders as you feel the ghostly touch of his thick tip lining against your tight hole.

"ready? I'll be waiting to decide if I want to be rough or gentle." he says and you nod.

you feel the burn of his thick dick stretching you out, drawing a high pitched moan out of you as your eyes screw themselves shut and your brow furrow.

taehyun lets out a soft yet low groan at the warm feeling of your gummy walls enveloping him oh so tightly. he felt like he could cum right on the spot.

you felt like you were in heaven, his dick felt so snug inside of you, his veins rubbing against your insides, and his tip brushing against your cervix lightly.

"you okay?" he spoke, his tone softer than usual and what you expected.

you mumble a small "yeah" and his lifts your hips up, half of his cock pulled out of your hole before slamming your hips down against his roughly, emmiting a loud yelp from you, "taehyun!"

taehyun only smacks your ass with a lot of force, leaving the stinging sensation to linger on your ass cheek before he does it a for a second time. "shut up, when did I ever say you could speak? greedy sluts stay quiet." his voice sounds the complete opposite of what it sounded like a few seconds ago, his demeanour changing completely.

again and again he continues to lift and slam your hips down on his cock, not giving you the right time to adjust. he gropes your ass roughly as he guides your body down up and down his shaft in a rhythmic pace.

you felt like you were going to explode from pleasure. how can anyone's first time be this good?

you were already fucked so dumb on his cock and he had barely even started. he threw his head back, his bobbing adam's apple visible from the new angle.

suddenly, you felt the strong urge to release, your first ever orgasm. you gripped taehyun's shoulders tightly, your hole doing the same with his dick, clenching around him as if it were your last day on earth. "taehyun -! I'm going to cum! ah-!"

he groaned at the feeling, smacking your ass even harder than last time, causing you to launch forward, your head resting on your shoulder as he continued his relentless and merciless thrusts.

"I said to fucking shut up! I don't want to say it again, bitch." he spat out his words like fire and you felt his hand leave your ass and start griping your breasts, squeezing the soft flesh and tweaking your sensitive nipples, leaving you to fuck yourself on his cock.

pathetic whimpers escaped past your lips, trying to keep quiet as you were told, yet it was so hard to do when his cock was hitting the right bundle of nerves over and over again.

with a smack on your ass and a loud moan of his name, you came undone on his cock, squirming at the feeling as you pant heavily.

taehyun pulls out, drawing a whine from you and he smacks your ass. he begins to stroke himself throwing his head back.

he looks at you with lustful eyes and grabs a handful of your hair, "suck." he commands, bringing your head down to the level of his cock. it's glistening with your juices and you take it into your mouth, barely able to fit it between your lips because of his girth.

you begin to suck and it doesn't take long for you to feel his warm and sticky cum shoot to the back of your throat. Your eyes widen and you look up at him with your mouth full of his cum, he's all sweaty, his bangs sticking to his forehead as he pants to catch his breath.

"swallow." he says inbetween pants and your mouth leaves his dick with a pop. when you swallow, you wipe your chin with the back of your hand, collecting the excess juices that had dripped down.

you sit up on your knees, both of you guys staring at each other from across the bed.

taehyun is the one who decides to beeak the silence

"this may or may not mean we're dating."

𓍼 taglist! - @hyunj00 (please lmk if you want to be added to my taglist!!)

reblogs are appreciated!

[legalmente-loca]

OKAY COULD YOU DO #1 WITH SOLDIER BOY BUT WITH LIKE A LOT SMUT..?? ALSO CONGRATS ON 100 FOLLOWERSSSSS

Christmas At Vought

Prompts: You dressing like a cowgirl

Pairing: Soldier Boy/Ben x Female Reader

Summary: You and Ben have a relationship in the shadows, even if he doesn't agree with it. Will he be able to resist you in disguise at Christmas?

Word Count: 1,623

A/N: Oh, darling, I couldn't just make a drabble of this

Tags/Warnings: 18+, smut, fingering, cowgirl inverted, dirty talk, language

You and Ben had a complicated relationship. In fact, according to everyone else, you didn't have any kind of relationship other than professional. You hid your relationship knowing that Vought wouldn't approve. After all, he was with Crimson Countess for popularity reasons. But you didn't have powers. You worked at Vought as the director's secretary and interacted with superheroes, but what would the fans of the first hero think when they saw that he were dating someone inferior to him?

So the two of you had a discreet relationship, in the shadows. Whenever you could (and even when you couldn't) you would sneak out to mess up your hair and clothes.

But it wasn't enough for Ben. Ben wanted to show ownership over you, to place his hand on your ass so that others knew you belonged to him and kiss you whenever he wanted, without worrying about who was watching.

But that was how things had to be.

It was normal for Vought to have parties every month, each with a different theme. This time, for Christmas, Vought had decided to have them dress up as a bygone era, so you didn’t think twice.

You had dressed up as a cowgirl, a checkered shirt with ripped jean shorts and a belt that held a fake gun. You also wore a cowboy hat.

“Well, look who came as a sexy cowgirl.”

You recognized the voice and turned to look at him. Obviously the great Soldier Boy would come as he wanted without respecting the theme. He simply came in his hero uniform, helmet included.

“Soldier Boy-”

“You know you can call me Ben, gorgeous.” He smiled charmingly and walked over to you, looking you up and down openly.

You sighed and glanced at him out of the corner of your eye.

“Ben, you know they can’t see us in public.”

“And you think I care about that?” He moved closer to you and pretended to look around as he whispered in your ear. “I could touch your entire body dressed in that tight outfit and I still wouldn’t fuckin’ care.”

You cleared your throat and turned to look at him.

“You need to control yourself, don’t make a scene.” You murmured.

“But you know I love to make them.”

He ran a finger down your arm, his body radiating heat and burning your skin.

“Ben…”

“Honey…”

You sighed and glanced around. It was a difficult task to resist Ben.

“Listen, later we’ll do whatever you want, but for now, let’s stay away from each other.”

He growled and placed his hand on your lower back possessively.

“I want you now.”

“Well you won’t have me.”

“Who fucking says?”

“Me.”

You pushed him away and started walking, knowing Ben was watching your every step.

An hour passed. Conversations surrounded you and the sound of Christmas carols was low. The whole place was well decorated, well, you had been a part of decorating. And Ben had often come to “help” you.

You had passed him a few times, but he didn’t even look at you. Maybe that was your punishment or maybe he had decided to listen to you for the first time (it was probably the first one).

You were chatting with some other people when he came in, drink in hand.

“Hey, folks.” He said as he patted your coworker on the shoulder, almost knocking his arm out of place.

“S-soldier Boy.”

It was very common for people to turn to look at him whenever he walked into a room. The attention was only on him and everyone wanted to get close to him if he was in a good mood. If he wasn’t, no one wanted to be around.

“Having a good time?” He asked with a smile.

“Very good, sir.”

“Well, that’s good to hear.”

The conversation continued, your coworkers clearly pleased to be talking to America’s great hero. But at one point, Ben stepped forward and tripped, the contents of his drink falling on your shirt. You gasped and looked at him in annoyance.

“Oh, I’m so sorry, doll.” He grabbed your own cup and quickly passed it to one of your companions before grabbing your arm, not giving you two seconds to think that he was already pulling you away. “Come, I’ll help you get all cleaned up.”

He led you to the bathrooms and immediately pinned you against the door as he took off his helmet and threw it across the room.

“Ben!”

“I can’t stand seeing you like this anymore, talking to other people like you don’t want me to fuck you right there.”

His movements were quick and unexpected (in part). He grabbed your breasts through your clothes and squeezed them, making you moan and arch your back.

But he didn’t even have time to look at you naked. He needed you right now.

He grabbed your arm again and dragged you to the bathroom sinks, sitting on the counter and placing you on his lap with your back to him.

“Since you’re dressed like a cowgirl whore, act like one.” He undid your belt and pulled down your shorts along with your panties and pressed his mouth against the side of your neck. “All this time, watching you like this, imagining you riding me until your thighs ached.”

He grabbed your legs and had your feet placed on top of his knees. He moved his hand to your pussy and began to caress your folds.

“God, Ben...”

He kept moving his fingers, teasing your hole before slipping one in.

“Fuck, you’re so tight, cowgirl. But it’s not time to take pleasure, it’s time to fucking give it.” He pulled off the bottom of his suit, his cock springing out, big and wet at the tip. “Now, ride me like it’s your fuckin’ job.”

He helped you up slightly, placing his hands on your ass, helping you down afterwards. Your eyes rolled as you felt his cock enter your pussy, your toes curling in pleasure.

“You like this big cock, cowgirl?” He murmured against your ear before nibbling on your earlobe. “C’mon, get started.” He growled, slapping your clit.

Your hips rocked and you felt more fluid between your legs. The position you were in only caused your insides to stretch further.

You began to move up and down, your hands resting on him to help you.

“Feel so good, Ben.” You let out a sigh.

“I know.” You rolled your eyes at his arrogance, but continued with your movements. “Are you a good cowgirl, babe? Can you ride a good, big horse like me?”

His gaze was locked on the globes of your ass, one hand squeezing your flesh. Your juices were running down his cock and you began to feel your orgasm approaching, leading you to move faster on him.

You heard a countdown in the distance.

“Fuck, it’s almost Christmas and I’ve got a cowgirl on me.” He slapped your ass and you gasped.

“Y-you’re so filthy... I’d rather you kept your mouth shut.”

“Oh, yeah?” He held your jaw, turning your face to look at him. “You love it when I talk dirty to you. And the fact that you’re moving like a sex addict fucking proves it.”

The countdown was at five and you kept your gaze on him. You didn’t even move your gaze or close your eyes when his fingers began to play with your clit roughly. Your legs threatened to close, but due to the position you were in that wasn’t possible. And it was there, the moment the countdown hit zero, that you came. Your insides tightened around him as a wave of pleasure flooded your body and your juices wet Ben’s cock even more. For his part, he brought his mouth to yours and kissed you fiercely as his cum shot out inside you.

“Merry fucking Christmas.” He snorted after a few seconds.

“Same here.” Your breathing was ragged and slowly returning to normal as you rested your head on his shoulder.

“You know what? If I knew this was my Christmas present, I would have wrapped you up and put a fucking bow over your pussy and a cowgirl hat on your head.”

“Oh, God…” You rolled your eyes and lifted your head. “Gross.”

“What? You know you’d love it if I tied you up in Christmas lights like a fucking Christmas tree and spread my cum all over your face.”

“Enough of this dirty talk.” You said as you stood up as best you could and climbed off of him, your legs shaking as soon as your feet hit the ground.

He snorted and stood up, putting his suit back in place as he gave you a look up and down.

“What?” You asked as you noticed his gaze.

“Oh, nothing, I just would love to see you even more in that costume, even with the stain.”

“Well, maybe I will do it for New Years. But only if you’re a good boy.” You pointed at him.

He frowned and slapped your hand, moving closer to you.

“I’ll be a bad man who will give a pretty cowgirl a good beating if she doesn’t do what he says.” He muttered close to your face.

You bit your bottom lip and tilted your head.

“Alright…”

He smirked and slapped your ass before bending down to pull your shorts back into place. You felt Ben’s cum spread across your shorts and you shifted uncomfortably. He stood up straight and patted your cheek.

“Good girl.”

He left a kiss on your cheek which he smacked before exiting the bathroom.

“This costume won't last.” You muttered before rearranging your mind and clothes and exiting the bathroom as well.

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[persicipen]

𑑛 “GOLDEN HOUR” ﾉ SUNDAY. HONKAI STAR RAIL

afab gn reader ﾉ words 1.2k ᯽ reader is sunday’s personal assistant. secret affair. boss and employee relationship. slow sex after waking up. pulling out. cum swallowing. surprisingly domestic making out. happy sunday :3 ᯽ ADULT CONTENT ﾉ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT ᯽

“Please, don’t get up yet. We still have some time… I can always explain if you’re late,” he murmurs into your hair, scooping your body closer.

The only reply he hears is just a soft sigh as you let yourself be convinced.

The sheets are messy, crumpled, and you already think how long it will take you to change them because of this delay. As if sensing your mind being preoccupied with something else, Sunday starts smooching you all across your head, getting closer to your face, the feathery touch tickling you here and there slightly until you giggle into his lips and reciprocate the direct kiss.

There are no mornings or evenings in Penacony.

Always an hour set by the clock, and everyone just lives around it. It’s dark behind the curtains of the guest bedroom in his office, but, in all honesty, it’s constantly dark in here, if not counting the dazzling and sparkling, shimmering spectacle of lights of the neons, billboards, lamps and other attractions the Golden Hour can offer.

There’s only one rule here — live to the fullest.

For once, the prim and proper young man tries to apply it to his own routine, risking not arriving according to the schedule to his upcoming meeting just to feel your body close to his own once more.

“I promise I’ll be quick. Well, am I even wrong if I said you’re not against such a welcome after opening our eyes, hm?”

“Hush, now… You always surprise me.”

“How so?”

“Calm and benevolent leader of the Family suddenly acting a little bratty, a spoiled boy who needs his hugs before work.”

He runs his hand across your shoulder, leaving goosebumps where he touches. Then his fingers glide downwards along your side and waist until he cups your thigh and pulls your leg over himself before you can even react.

“Don’t say that.” His voice is buttery soft, a tingle of laugh reverberating at the ending note meaning he liked the joke. “You’re the only one who can see me in such a state. You’re the only one I allow in my bed… and to make scandalous claims about one of the most important figures in Penacony.”

He shifts slowly with the smile — a genuine one — disappearing from the corner of his mouth a moment before he rubs his cock between your folds. The intent is obvious — to have you wrap yourself around him with every limb like ivy.

Resting foreheads against each other, dishevelled hair tangled together and, almost moaning out loud from your intoxicating heat and wetness, he places the tip inside.

“Ah…” you hum sweetly and your whole frame trembles at this movement that was meant as a casual gesture and gets turned into a pleasurable foreplay so easily.

It’s difficult not to rush. He holds onto control tightly, keeps himself contained and careful so much that sometimes it makes you want to see him break out of these walls, come undone completely with passion. This time is no different. It seems as if you could barely hear his heartbeat quickening up against your ear while you press your lips against each other, swallowing little sounds. But he slides into you with caution nonetheless, enjoying every inch of you wrapping around his length.

Slowly, carefully, steadily, he’s making love to you for minutes now. Soft cries die out between ruffled bedsheets along with the quiet, slick noises of his cock dragging through your walls and pulling back in, covered with your juices. The leisurely pace is just perfect for you today — there’s no need for excitement nor to have a shattering orgasm.

Everything is so warm, cosy and satisfying…

And then Sunday picks up the tempo abruptly.

The feeling is so sudden; it catches you off-guard. Your inner walls are hugging him tightly in response to the new, rougher approach, but he doesn’t give up. Now it’s the tip hitting that sensitive spot inside, which sends waves of pleasure all over your body and you have to moan out loud to release the tension.

“I… ha-aah! I thought you decided to take it s-slow!” You pant in surprise and protest. It only makes him chuckle at first as he watches your flustered expression with interest and adjusts your hips slightly to reach even deeper.

“Forgive me this time, will you, dove?”

“Mhm, I should’ve not teased you, then…”

“Exactly— ngh!”

The friction is too much to handle. What he sees is you — a quivering mess — panting faster with your eyes closed shut to deal with it, borders perfection. Your chest heaves shakily against his own one with every huff. But he wouldn’t dare stop again when you’re reacting so intensely, not unless you tell him so.

Untangling your arms from himself before he manages to pull himself up just so he can comfortably reach between your bodies and put his hand on your clit, just above the delicate flesh that now parts with each of his thrusts. You squeal from this stimulation at once and squirm under him, trying to hold on to his forearms.

The tender bud swells even more under his fingertips and Sunday smiles watching your body jerking suddenly and reflexively with every move he makes. He knows exactly how you like to be touched, never turning away his gaze from your reactions.

You’re moaning out loud as if you had no worries about being heard and he wonders if maybe he could make you scream out his name someday — but maybe not yet, not when you two shouldn’t even be in one bed.

Brows furrowing with an upcoming climax, he gives some extra attention to your clit for a while until, at last, there’s no way back for you. His wings flutter, hearing you singing cries of relief and pleasure. You shudder through your entire silhouette; your hole grips on him from the inside and releases him with sodden warmth. Hissing at this, he’s barely able to pull out in time and clumsily crawls up on top of you while fisting his cock above your face.

Ignoring the heatwave rushing down your every nerve, you open your mouth and let him smack the tip over your tongue a few more times before spurts of cum fall right on it. High on the ecstasy of the recent orgasm, your mind goes blank, you let your lover milk the last drops out into your throat whilst you continue to suckle on the very end of his slit.

As you’re coming to your senses and the bliss of afterglow subsides, Sunday begins cleaning you and his own cock up, planting a gentle kiss on your temple with a heavy breath before sitting upright on the bed.

“Would you consider not wearing me down first thing after waking up?“

At first, after hearing your question, he remains silent with a distant smile, stroking your cheek as he continues cleaning your body with wet wipes he keeps on the nightstand.

“Well, just another perk of staying here until late system hours,” he eventually replies, quietly, almost like an afterthought, and then proceeds to gather the clothes for another day. “I’m always waiting to see you come to tell that I should rest. Just so I can hug you and take you to bed with me…” he confesses softly, the same vague, half-amused, half-wistful look in his eyes.

“I see you’re always planning two steps ahead.”

“Unfortunately, not this time. As much as I would love for it to be true, I’m yet to think of a satisfactory excuse for my delayed arrival.”

[viforavi]

singer/songwriter!caitlyn and producer!vi… known for her quiet allure and silky voice, cait is a rising star whose songs have almost all been produced by vi. most of the lyrics cait writes may or may not be drawn from a crush she has on her producer. vi may or may not be producing cait’s songs because she’s not only undeniably talented, but also incredibly hot.

caitlyn loves to observe the focus vi has when creating her vision in the studio—sometimes she finds herself staring at her a little longer, taking note of how vi plays with her bottom lip and the way her big, beautiful blue-gray eyes dart across the computer screen—but the praise she gets when she records the perfect take is the cherry on top of it all.

“atta girl.”

“amazing work, you did so well today.”

“there we go, princess. knew you could do it.”

she feels her face flush slightly at every compliment and this time is no different. they near the end of a session as caitlyn records the last of her harmonies and the rest of the pre-chorus. as caitlyn’s verse comes to an end, vi smiles and clicks a button on her sound board to let cait hear her next words.

“you did so good in there, sweetheart. i could listen to you all day.”

a small giggle paired with an eye roll is her typical response to the producer’s kudos. cait’s ears and cheeks are tinged pink at the last part of vi’s comment.

“as if you aren’t paid to do exactly that,” caitlyn points out.

she removes her headphones and exits the soundproof room, walking towards the couch at the same time as vi to take a break before the producer works herself to the bone to get this song to sound like a masterpiece. caitlyn’s legs find themselves propped on vi’s lap crossed at her ankles with vi’s hand gently holding her in place, a comfortable position they find themselves in very often. vi expresses a thought she has about cait’s writing.

“y’know, i honestly still can’t believe you wrote these lyrics. i didn’t realize you were seeing someone.”

cait lets out a soft laugh, slightly embarrassed at the idea. the lyrics are… more sexual than what she usually writes, depicting fantasies and desires that she would typically consider private information.

“i’m not! just… felt really inspired i guess.”

“c’mon, don’t give me that. you rarely ever write about sex, let alone ask me to produce a song about it. she must be really fucking good, so who’s the lucky girl?”

she was right. caitlyn rarely wrote songs about sex and even when she did, she was usually too embarrassed to show them to vi. caitlyn’s had her fair share of hookups, but in caitlyn’s eyes none of them could compare to the mere thought of vi: her stupid fucking haircut that she, by some miracle, manages to pull off, her muscular build that convinces cait that she could be picked up by her like a feather, and that voice.

god, that fucking voice and her fucking praise.

even though she was the one to ask, vi’s stomach drops at the thought of cait seeing anyone. she keeps her eyes on the screen, avoiding caitlyn’s gaze and hoping she doesn’t look like a kicked puppy.

“seriously, it’s no one.”

“bullshit, cait. we’re friends! you can tell me.”

“it’s not! i’m really not seeing anyone.”

“please, cupcake.”

the underlying sweetness in her disbelieving tone makes cait want to melt into a puddle on the floor. part of her wants to admit that the object of all her fantasies has been a certain pink-haired musical genius with a jaw-dropping body and a pretty face, but her pride outmatches her desire, even though the use of the dessert-inspired nickname makes her knees weak.

“it’s just a crush. that’s all.”

cait swears she can see vi’s ears perk up. she’s met with a shit-eating grin, and now vi can’t help but poke and prod further to figure out who this mystery crush is. they giggle and playfully fight with one another as vi begs to know about this “crush” and cait wonders why the fuck she decided to say anything at all.

the regret leaves her body when she finds her face centimeters away from vi’s and her arms locked in front of her chest, held by her wrist thanks to vi’s unbelievable strength. cait makes out the curls of her eyelashes, the dark ink of her face tattoo, and most especially the plush of vi’s lips and the scar that decorates the top of them.

shit. why does she have to be so fucking gorgeous?

caitlyn is certain the red all over her face perfectly matches the burn she feels. she feels like she’s opening for fucking beyoncé or something with how nervous she is to be this close to someone she’s known for years.

“you’re really gonna keep this from me, princess?”

something about vi’s lowered voice and her eyes searching her face (particularly at her lips, she noticed) gave caitlyn a sense of confidence that she knows she’ll probably regret acting on. she wants vi, and she’s tired of vi not knowing. she swallows and looks into vi’s pleading eyes for a moment then sighs, nearly surprising herself with what she does next.

her feet find their way to the floor to push her up out of her seat and then she swiftly swings a leg over vi’s lap, seating herself where her legs once were. vi’s grip on caitlyn weakens and confusion is written all over her face with her wide eyes, raised brows, and slightly parted lips. cait gazes at her through hooded eyes, playing with the neckline of vi’s muscle tee. she leans over and ghosts her lips over vi’s ear to tease.

“you really wanna know?”

vi rests her hands on caitlyn’s hips and slowly licks her lips, still unsure of what exactly is going on… but she’s not complaining. her thumbs fiddle with the top of caitlyn’s jeans as caitlyn pulls herself back to face vi, one hand caressing the back of her neck and the other cupping her chin. vi groans at the sound of cait’s voice as she asks vi a very important question.

“do you want me to tell you, or would you rather i show you?”

[darbonime]

sleepy talk after sex

contains: fluff, silly meaningless bed talk.

word count: 1.1k

You are sprawled on bed after intense lovemaking, sheets rustling soothingly in a silence of a room as he shifts his body full of pleasant tiredness. Alex seems to be already half-asleep, usually dozing off quickly after sex. You run your fingers over his spine tenderly and slowly. Up and down. Shiver crawls on his skin making him lift his head from your bare chest and open hooded sleepy eyes and look straight at you.

“What?” you question quietly raising your brows slightly, still maintaining your caresses over his back gently, tiny smile appears on your lips.

He simply drops his head back nuzzling into your chest planting a lazy kiss on your smooth skin, leaving you without an answer. Alex mumbles something incoherent.

“Babe don’t hear you…” you say softly, your hand is running into his tousled hair. It has a lulling effect on him, making him even more drowsy. It’s a bit greasy near roots, he probably will wash them tomorrow. He always washes them on Thursday. You like his hair in any state, in every haircut. Even when he didn’t have hair at all. Yes, that’s what love made to you.

Quiet groan with a tinge of grumpiness can be heard from him. “Tellin’ it’s warm… Nice.” he mutters satisfied despite his grouchy attitude, leaving a light kiss on your shoulder blade, running his nose over it slothfully.

Little smile develops on your lips, you blink slowly being on a verge of sleeping yourself, feeling contented with a state of things. You glance outside the window seeing slow snowflakes adorn night sky and streets. It’s winter already, seasons seem to change every time you blink, and you involuntarily mull over with him about how time passes quickly. Both of you are old souls with deep attraction for past and nostalgia.

“That bloody weather…” Alex grumbles out of nowhere, his voice is thick, slightly raspy, because of how near he is to fall asleep. His muttering make you grin. He just made love to you a minute ago, but something little as weather on the background makes him whisper quiet curses. Such a grumpy he is. It’s cute.

His smile on a different level though. Every time when his eyes crinkle adorably, and he reveals a young boy from the depths of ocean inside of him, you can’t to look away. All his smiles are saved in your heart.

You chuckle quietly, ruffling his hair lightly, placing a small kiss on his hairline. Quietness lands in the room; your two light breathing is the only sound in the bedroom, it’s too late for people or cars outside.

Fresh chilly air is flowing from the tiny gap of opened window. Mild coldness settles on your shoulders that aren’t hide with blanket. His hair is melting between your fingers, and body is like a velvet against your own. Grey sheets that you both bought two years ago when moved in that current apartment are warmed against your bodies.

You feel his steady breathing on your collarbones. He doesn’t sleep but doesn’t talk either, looks on a wall of a room in front of him, zoned out, as it often happens to him.

Sometimes you like lying together after lovemaking, more than lovemaking itself. He is here, where he should be, where he wants to be, relaxed and comfortable. Often you just talk about some trivial things that aren’t matter after sex. Alex can grumble about weather with anyone, but now it feels very cozy. You feel like he is yours in these moments, in some strange way.

“The rice was amazin’…,” he mumbles still with zoned out face and distracted deep voice, staring on a wall with chocolate eyes of his, “Can’t help but still thinkin’ ‘bout it.” you smile on that, stroking his hair delicately, he emits a long humming of satisfaction closing his eyes as if soaking in touch.

He’s talking about the rice with vegetables you made for dinner. Alex couldn’t shut up earlier how delicious it is, and that you should cook that one more often. It was hours ago, and sophisticated head of his is still thinking about rice. That thought makes you chuckle again.

Silence again. It’s comfortable. It’s always comfortable with him. You and Alex could be in one room and don’t talk with each other and for both of you it would be nice. You can read a book, and he can write deliberately something in his notebook, but each of you will look up from time to time to see how another is doing.

No rush, no worries and no need to survive in that crazy world. Tomorrow will be tough again, but for now it’s a bubble of love and peace on earth, and both of you every time try not to fall into slumber long as possible to be in that little bubble of yours.

Your tender gaze falls upon his eased face. Alex dozed off not be able to be awake any longer, and you couldn’t blame him. Every day in a studio was taking a toll on him, and all your words about taking easy were skipped or brushed off with quick reassuring positive answer. Hair fell on his forehead, few wrinkles that he has due age straightened up in a problem-free sleep. His breathing is steady and calm, eyes are closed giving him a peaceful look. He lets out a quiet snore.

You can’t stop yourself from a giggle, covering your mouth with a palm trying to muffle the sound and not wake the sleeping beauty. Though little laugh makes Alex flinch anyway and lift head from your chest, opening his eyes with a frown breaking his face, his dishevelled hair all over in different sides.

Alex’s face is showing the full extent of not grasping what is happening right now. “The laugh... What ‘s funny?” his hand finding your waist under blanket brushing over it with a thumb.

“Sleep, honey.” you encourage him, still playing with his strands of silky hair. “It’s nothing.”

“What’s the laugh ‘bout?” he presses stubbornly with a sleepy kitten-like face, hand is securely on the curve of your side. You shake your head amused with a tiny smile, your hand comes to his cheek, feeling his prickly stubble with fingertips.

“Tell you at the morning. Just sleep” you gently nudge his head on your chest, and he doesn’t protest.

He closes his eyes again, exhaling and giving up. Alex is clearly too tired out to care about that small giggle now. He will ask you about it tomorrow when they both will have morning coffee on the kitchen. You won’t leave, and it’s one of the thoughts that keeps him sane.

a/n: that one is short and kinda silly and makes no sense, but that’s the exact point, i think. simple fluff. it was first thing i posted here, but deleted the day after because back then it looked much much worse… decided to edit it a bit and post in case if someone needs something easy to read!

merry christmas! 🩶

[lenny-link]

made a lil engiespy fic as a continuation of the sniperscout comic and basically the 7th comic too, hope you enjoy :>

——————————————————————-

The war was long over. All the mercenaries had returned to normal, peaceful lives they had almost forgotten. They were older now, lines drawn on their faces, but the bond created in the heart of battle remained. Tonight, they were all here, gathered at Jeremy’s for Christmas.

Jeremy’s house was filled with the chaotic energy of his children, the laughter of his old teammates, the smell of pine tree and smokey turkey that was a far contrast to the gunpowder and battlefields that had infested their lives for so long.

Christmas candlelights shined, reflecting Spy’s surprisingly softened gaze. He watched the children, the miniature versions of Scout, running around, their laughter a sound he hadn’t realized he have been missing.

 

Surrounded by the energetic children who were unknowingly his own grandchildren, felt a pang of longing. He kept his relation a secret from Jeremy, a part of his past he had buried deep a long time ago. The children, however, had jumped into his carefully constructed walls with ease, their innocent affection had created a desire he thought he had long forgotten: the desire for a family.

 

As the night went on, each ex-mercenary made their goodbyes and took their leave. Dell stayed finding himself cleaning up the dinning table spontaneously while Jeremy had slipped away with Mick to his bedroom, leaving Spy to manage the energetic youngsters. He didn’t mind. He found himself surprisingly content telling stories and playing charades with the kids, a different warmth bloomed within him with every giggle.

 

Eventually, the children fell asleep, their small forms tucked into their respective beds. The house fell silent. Engineer and Spy were the only ones left, cleaning up the rests of the festive party.

 

As Spy dried and stacked the plates, he felt a wave of melancholy washing over him. He yearned to stay, to be a part of this family, his family too, but the secret he held kept him from getting this chance.

Dell, being the smartest of the bunch, had noticed the change in Spy’s attitude, from his usual cold, rude persona in battlefield to his new softer fatherly side. He saw him, he understood the unspoken conflict within the Frenchman.

At some point, in their old absurd lifestyle, they had become close, two strategics, two intellectuals, they understood each others with just a glance, despite the counterintuitive nature of their classes, they felt like two side of the same coin, they matched each other’s minds, they knew they belonged together.

 

“They’re good kids,” Dell stated softly, breaking the silence. “Reminds me of… well, reminds me of simpler times.”

 

Spy offered a small, sad smile. “Indeed.”

 

Dell paused, then spoke with a quiet sincerity. “Y’know, my place ain’t far from here. It gets… lonely. I’ve got plenty of room” He looked at Spy who had his gaze still on the plates but had stopped drying them.

“You’re welcome to stay there. As long as you like. It would… it would be nice to have some company." he hesitated slightly "Y-you’d be closer to the kids too"

 

Spy’s eyes widened slightly, surprised with a flicker of hope shining in him. Living with Dell, close to Jeremy and his grandchildren… it felt like a new chance for him to have the warmth of a family he long loved, it was more than he could have wish for this Christmas.

“Dell…” he began, his voice barely above a whisper, thick with emotion, he puts the plate down.

 

Dell, sensing the unspoken emotions of Spy, stepped closer, placing carefully both his hand on each of Spy’s shoulders, turning him around to face him. “We’ve been through a lot together, me and you, through thick and thin, and well, we’re not getting any younger" he laughed slightly "I’d love to spend the rest of my days with you Spy, and Jeremy and the kids" he gets even closer "Come, live with me" he slowly slides his hands down Spy’s arms now holding his hands "Only if you want this too"

 

Spy was speechless, his eyes widened as he looked straight at Dell’s eyes, not able to muster any word. He wants nothing more than this, having a family once again, how ideal could it be.

As they stood there, a small shiny light caught their attentions. Above them, hanging from the kitchen doorframe, was a branche of a mistletoe.

Time seemed to stop as they exchanged a silent, meaningful look, years of unspoken understanding passing between them.

 

Slowly, hesitantly, they leaned in. Their lips met in a tender, gentle kiss. Spy cupped Dell’s face deepening the kiss, his brows met in a focused expression, he needed this. Dell on the other end, had pressed his hands on Spy’s lower back, pressing their bodies against the other, his heart beating like a drum frantically in his chest, he wanted this.

It was a kiss of shared history, of unspoken longing. It wasn’t their first, but felt entirely new.

Moments later they broke the kiss, they stared at the other’s tender eyes, a silent promise of partnership in the years to come. The chaos of the day has faded away, leaving only the quiet intimacy of two men who had finally found their way home, to each others.

[isagispuzzle]

read part one of my barou soulmate au here!

barou doesn't believe in soulmates. he thinks it's stupid and unrealistic to fall in love with a total stranger just because you saw them in a dream once, and he tunes out every time someone around him mentions anything about their soulmate.

so when he dreams of sitting in front of a bronze mirror, leaning into the soft palm of a woman behind him as she hummed a gentle melody and combed his hair, he doesn't think anything of it. he tries to forget it, and stops himself from turning to look whenever he hears someone who sounds remotely like the woman from his dream.

for the first time in his twenty years of living, barou leaves the house after he's done getting ready for bed. his sister used the last steam eye mask, and since he can't sleep without using one, he leaves for the convenience store at ten thirty pm to get more. he grumbles the whole way there, and when he's still ten minutes away from the convenience store, it starts to pour.

thankfully, he sees a bookstore still open at that time, so barou goes in without a second thought. he shakes the raindrops out of his hair and grumbles some more about the filthy rainwater and how he'll have to take another shower, and to make things worse, the bookstore smells like dust.

he almost leaves despite it still raining heavily outside, until he hears a familiar voice.

he takes a few steps into the bookstore and sees you at the counter, spinning a pen and focusing hard on a notebook. it seems like you don't even know barou's there, because you continue to hum to yourself. although he hasn't thought about it for over a year, he remembers his dream. your hair is different and you look a little younger, but you're undeniably the one in his dream.

finally, you notice his presence and look up from your notebook to greet him with a polite smile. despite himself, barou notices that your smile now is much colder than the one you had in his dream. your eyes linger on him as if you recognise him too; they dance across his body, scanning him for details, before landing on his temple.

barou doesn't believe in soulmates, but when he looks at your name tag and says your name, the loud patter of the rain quietens and his heart settles. the warmth floods back into your eyes, and barou breathes again.

"it's you."

[undercoveravenger]

Criminal Intent

Criminal!Soap x Detective!Male!Reader

A/N: Okay, first time writing for COD and it’s an AU with a probably very out of character Soap. This is potentially a continuing series with an option for poly!141 if you guys’re into it. Feel free to send requests for the 141 or for this au in the meantime

-----

It’s the silence that bothers him, really. He’s been in plenty of interrogation rooms with plenty of detectives sitting across him. He’s had officers beat him and bribe him and try to weasel information out of him a dozen different ways, but he’s never had someone quite like you.

The first thing that crosses his mind when you close the heavy door behind you is that you’re fine as hell. All strong jaw and pretty eyes and a white button up shirt stretched tight across a thick chest and broad shoulders and he just knows you could fold him in half if you wanted to. The next thing he notices is that you’re quiet. You settle into the seat across from him with spread legs and an open case file without so much as glancing at him and if he didn’t know you were trying to put his whole goddamn organization behind bars-

“Can we get this over with?” he finally says, if only to get you to look away from the fucking paperwork for a moment. 

Your eyes are almost bored when they meet his and Johnny’s just decided they’re his new favorite color when you speak and his brain about short circuits at the sound of your voice. “Oh,” you say, though you don’t sound surprised. He definitely does not think about the other ways he could get you to say that. Definitely not. “Ready to squeal?”

He swallows thickly, knows you want him to give up Price and Gaz and Ghost. “I’m no rat,” he says, lips curling up into that charming smile he’d put to use hundreds of times over as he leans in, “But I bet there’s plenty a’ other things you could do that’d get me squealin’.”

“Pass.” You don’t seem affected in the slightest as your eyes drop back to the folder in your hands, deft fingers flipping pages and his mouth waters at the thought of those fingers fisting into his hair. “I told them you wouldn’t be worth my time,” you said, tipping your head toward the one-way mirror that lined one edge of the interrogation room. “Too damn stubborn to get yourself a good deal in exchange for a little information.” 

He huffs, a little petulant from your disinterest, “Stubborn’s one word for it. Loyal’s another.” He puffs his chest out a bit. He knows he’s good looking, been told so all his life, so you’re either not into blokes, or you’re lying. “‘S a good trait for your future husband to have, ain’t it?” There it is, he thinks with a grin as your eyes shoot up to meet his, thrown off for the first time since you set foot in the room.

“Wha-” you cut yourself off, schooling your surprise back into that boring deadpan expression and Johnny almost pouts as you do. “That’s rather inappropriate.”

Johnny shrugs, leans forward to rest his forearms against the table, handcuffs clinking as he moves. His voice lowers to nearly a pur, “Could do some other things that’re inappropriate if you want? Wouldnae even have to take these off,” he jingles the cuffs pointedly. He tips his head toward the mirror, “Doubt you’d want your supervisors here for that though.”

Your pupils are slightly dilated when you look at him and he can see how tempted you’d be by him if he’d met you anywhere else. God, the things he’d do to you if you’d just wandered into the bar above the safehouse downtown - He shakes it off, knows he can’t let himself get distracted. Knows he just has to stall for time ‘til Price has his bail paid and he can disappear again. But the idea of getting closer to you? Of having you to himself, even for a little while? Oh, that’s a chance he can’t pass up, even if Ghost and Price’ll be pissed at him later.

“I’d think about a deal,” he finds himself saying, the words foreign on his tongue and he’s almost as shocked to be saying them as you look to be hearing them. “My time for yours. I won’t give you my boys, but I’ve got plenty more information that’d help you lot out that I could pass along if you agree to meet me when I’m out.” He continues, hand jerking forward to catch your chin and keep you from looking to the officers behind the mirror for guidance, to keep you looking at him and him only. “Just you. No backup, no wires, nothing. Just the two of us.”

He can feel your tension against his fingertips, can feel the way you ache to get approval from your higher ups before responding, a foxhound not used to being pursued by the fox without so much as a huntsman to guide you, can see the way your fingers tighten against the folder in your grip, knuckles nearly going white with the pressure. Can see the moment when your resolve cracks and you nod. It’s small and barely there, but you agreed all the same whether or not your superiors would’ve approved it.

You’re up out of your seat and crossing to the door as soon as he releases you and he knows what mess’ll be waiting for you but all he can think about is what it’ll take to draw you to him, to bring you close to his side and keep you there and how helpful it’ll be to have a soon-to-be former detective working for Price and his syndicate and how he’s going to have so much fun breaking you.

[daddysfangirls-marvel]

Cereal

Bucky Barnes x Single Mom! Reader

The Boy looks upon the many shelves of cereal. Some are bland, some are sugary, and others are healthy. Some have cartoon characters on the box, and many have real-life heroes. With all these heroes, he still couldn't find his. The boy sighed, his lips quivering. He wipes his eyes before his tears even begin to slip.

"Honey?" his mother called for him.

"He's not here," His voice shakes and tears spilling over.

"What do you mean?" she asked as she gently moved him to the side out of the way of after customers.

"H-he doesn't have o-one." He points to the shelves as he begins to cry. She tucks his face into her stomach as she takes a look at the shelves for herself. And her boy was right, his hero was not amongst those on the shelve.

"I'm sorry," she tried to rub his back, providing some comfort. " We'll look at different stores. Don't worry."

"No," he cried. This was the third store in a week, and they still hadn't found it. He was tired, and he knew they weren't going to find it. Frustratedly, he snatched off his prosthetic arm and tossed it down the aisle. ( Moments like this made her grateful she bought plastic).

"Absolutely not. We don't throw things." The round of gasps and how quickly the aisle emptied told her all she needed to know. They would not be making any purchases here today.

Wiping his tears, she stood up to retrieve the arm, only to find a man holding it.

"Excuse me, that's my son's." He was a tall, big man in a baseball cap, thick coat, and leather gloves. And in those gloved hands was her son's prosthetic.

He hands it to her, and she gives him a small thanks.

"How'd he lose it? If- If you don't mind me asking?"

She took a deep breath. This was going to go one of two ways. The educational route and she'd possibly teach this man something new or bashing route, and this man would get disrespectful, and she'd probably have to call security or the police.

"He didn't lose it. He was born without." She moved to her son, tucking him into her side. His cries had stopped, but his tears were still streaming.

"I ....there was an accident and lost mine." The man said, massaging his left hand. She didn't understand why he was telling them this. But she did appreciate him sharing a piece of him. " Why is he crying?"

"He has a favorite hero. He's like him, and we were trying to find his cereal or his snack or... just anything with him on it. We can't seem to find him anywhere."

"May I?" the man asked, motioning to her son, asking permission to approach him. She granted it and watched as he kneeled in front of her son, who was still tucked into her side. His tears had dried, and he seemed to be in ...awe?

It wasn't until the man removed his gloves, then cap, that she realized who he was, and she felt like an idiot. She had been researching this man with every free moment she had ever since her son declared him to be his favorite and just like him. And she couldn't tell the difference between him on stage and him in a baseball cap.

Embarrassing.

"Hi, my name is Bucky, what's yours?"

Her son whispered his name as he blushed. " That's a cool arm you got their bud."

"I have another one that's cooler. It has space on it," he said as his mother kneeled, putting it back on his elbow.

"That does sound cooler. Mine doesn't really have anything on it." Bucky said, pulling up his sleeve to show off his metal appendage. The son gasped in amazement as he stepped forward, his little fingers reaching and tracing the gold and black plates. The man watched him carefully as he touched and stayed very still.

She would have corrected her son's rude behavior any other time, but right now, with the awe on his face and the smile on Mr. Barnes's face, she didn't want to interrupt. Plus, she was as in awe as the fluorescent lights made it shine—both the arm and his smile.

"A friend made it for me. It's made of a special metal called vibranum."

"Like your friend's shield?" He whispered as he pulled away.

"Exactly," he whispered in return as he stood up. She stood up as well.

"Thank you, Mr. Barnes. That was very kind of you, and we really appreciate it."

Bucky is fine, Mrs?" he said.

"(Y/n), (Y/n) (L/n). No, Mrs. No husband," she regretted the words as soon as they came out of her mouth. But that didn't shut her up. " There is no one else. Just me. Just us."

Bucky gave a soft smile and nodded. " I'm sorry to hear that." He didn't look or sound sorry. "Listen, Um, I volunteer at this rehab for kids, and they have a lot of programs there, so if your son wanted, he could come join." Bucky pulled out a flyer from his pocket, unfolded it, and handed it over to her. It looked to be a place for physically disabled children.

"This looks nice, actually. Thank you."

"Yeah, no problem. My number is on the back if you need any help with the program or stuff. or just ... Want to hang out ." Bucky cringed on how that came, but she just smiled and laughed. She turned the flyer over to see his number was indeed on the back.

"Oh"

"Hopefully, I'll see you two there."

"Definitely, I mean, yes. We'll be there, won't we, buddy."

"Will you be there?" The boy asked.

"As long as the world doesn't need saving, I'm there every other afternoon."

"Hopefully, the world doesn't need saving when we come by." she teased.

"Even if it did, I'm sure the others could handle it on their own. I wouldn't leave a doll like you waiting."

Doll.

Doll. She didn't know how, but with a single word, the man nearly put her on her knees. Suddenly, her heart had quickened, and her legs were shaky. And the way he bit his lips after and looked her up and down. Was he trying to devour her with such a stare? When did the atmosphere change?

A little squeak brought them both back to reality and reminded them of their little audience. No flirting in front of the babies.

"We'll be there, Mr. B...Bucky. We'll be there." Taking her son's hand, she turned to leave before stopping and saying, " I'll call."

"I'm looking forward to it."

"Bye-bye," the boy waved to his hero with a big grin on his face. As he watched them walk away. His cereal crisis was long forgotten.