Text
September reads!
The Disenchantment by Celia Bell
The Girl Next Door by Cecilia Vinesse
Ducks by Kate Beaton
Magical Negro by Morgan Parker
Tilly in Technicolor by Mazey Eddings
Maame by Jessica George
The Wicked Bargain by Gabe Cole Novoa
She Had Some Horses by Jo Harjo
Inciting Joy: Essay by Ross Gay
A Safe Girl to Love by Casey Plett
A Very Nice Girl by Imogen Crimp
Ace: What Asexuality Reveals About Desire, Society, and the Meaning of Sex by Angela Chen
Lucky Red by Claudia Cravens
Camp Damascus by Chuck Tingle
Scarlet Witch vol. 1 by Steve Orlando et al
Erotic Stories for Punjabi Widows by Balli Kaur Jaswal
Did Ye Hear Mammy Died? by Séamas O’Reilly
Shipbreaking by Robin Beth Schaer
My Sister, the Serial Killer by Oyinkan Braithwaite
Thornhedge by T. Kingfisher
Tender by Sofia Samatar
Bellies by Nicola Dinan
Bi: The Hidden Culture, History, and Science of Bisexuality by Julia Shaw
Something is Killing the Children vol. 2 by James Tynion IV, Werther Dell’Edera, and Miquel Muerto (reread)
Something is Killing the Children vol. 3 by James Tynion IV, Werther Dell’Edera, and Miquel Muerto
Something is Killing the Children vol. 4 by James Tynion IV, Werther Dell’Edera, and Miquel Muerto
Wolfish: Wolf, Self, and the Stories We Tell About Fear by Erica Berry
Ithaca by Claire North
#really pleased by the variety of stuff i read this month!#tender and bellies were my favorite reads of the month#and probably up there are favorites for the whole year honestly#books#2023 reads#lulu speaks#lulu reads
1 note
·
View note
Text
AN: In celebration of me being on my period, (yay being a woman..) I figured, why not there be head cannons of the Evan’s response to you being on that time of the month. It’s something small but why not. Theres also a little bit of NSFW, so fair warning.
Ps. It is my birthday today 😽🫶
TW: Blood, NSFW, oral, fingering, unprotected p in v and stuff
———————————————————————————
Tate Langdon
———————————
Tate would set up a heating pad for you and
Grab you your favorite book to read
.
Play your favorite music and rest his head on your lower stomach, in hopes the weight of him might help the cramps.
.
Would pepper kisses everywhere to help distract the pain
.
He would sit criss crossed on the bed facing you and will rub your clit to help ease the pain, until you finish
Kit Walker
——————————
Kit would kiss your lower stomach and give you a deep massage where your uterus lays
.
Would buy you chocolate and your favorite desserts
.
Would do all the house work and chores for you, whilst you get plenty of rest (He'll be wearing your frilly apron while doing all the work)
.
He would dick you down so good, it'll cure those cramps by how deep he hits in you, completely bottoming himself out
Kyle Spencer
—————————
Kyle would take you out for a nice dinner
.
He would take you shopping and even surprise you with flowers
.
He doesn't know what exactly the difference is between pads and tampons, so he buys them both.
.
He is very respectful when it comes to sex on your period and no matter how horny he is, he'll always respect your boundaries. Which turns you on.. so now you guys are going missionary
Jimmy Darling
———————————
Jimmy would take care of you like as if you were sick
.
His mom would also make you some soup and home baked buttered bread, then he would hand feed you
.
He'd make sure that nothing and nobody would bother you
.
Would finger fuck you so hard, that your legs would shake and quiver afterwards.
James Patrick March
——————————————
James would make everything romantic no matter what
.
Would set up a warm bubble bath with candles, with rose petals on the surface of the water and with a glass of wine on the side
.
Would pamper you and caress you up and down, leaving kisses and love bites all over
.
Would kiss up your thighs and eat you out. Even when it's all a bloody mess, he loves the taste. Especially since it's you
Kai Anderson
——————————
Kai isn't really the kind to pamper you. He thinks it's being vulnerable
.
You're only allowed to skip one meeting for cramps/major discomfort, but you would have to make it up to him later
.
He also gets irritated when you're PMSing, but will soon apologize, not by words but by showing physical touch, such as in hugging behind you, nuzzling your neck and much more
.
Kai's idea of curing your cramps is to fuck you with a vibrator hard and fast. Your whole body and core will be shaking after, and once you finish he'll rail you to the bed. No protection, no towel, he'll leave the blood everywhere to show what mess he created from you
Warren Lipka
——————————
Warren would let you lay in his flannel and will spoon you in bed, placing his warm hands over your lower belly to cradle
.
He would pass you a blunt to ease the pain and to help you relax
.
He's too lazy to cook, so he'll probably make you a bowl of cereal
.
He would let you ride him all much as you wanted. Until of course when he finishes in you.
Peter Maximoff
——————————
Peter would do anything for you, no matter how crazy the request might be
.
Would "buy" you junk food in seconds
.
He would let you sit on his lap while you play one of his video games on the tv, while rubbing your lower tummy in a circular motion
.
Sure he's fast, but you don't know fast until he finger fucks you and using his other hand to rub your tender aching clit like a vibrator
———————————————————————————
Tag list: @evansonlylove @xrag-dollx @warrenlipkaswife
#evan peters#ahs fandom#evan peters imagine#american horror story#evan peters fanfic#evan peters x female reader#girlrotting#tate langdon#kit walker#kyle spencer#jimmy darling#james patrick march#kai anderson#warren lipka#peter maximoff#evan peters smut#period cramps#girlcore
241 notes
·
View notes
Note
Dear dear writer friend I hope this message finds you well. I am a simple person and all I come to request is an extra part for your 'Daddy Baxter' series whatever you like but if youre looking for an idea maybe their little girl is older and they have a second child?
Dad Baxter is my favorite, bless you for this!!!
It was a Friday night, and you and Baxter were tired from a long week. You lounged on the couch together, snuggled cozily under a quilt, half watching tv and half chatting.
Your daughter, Penny, was out at a sleepover, so you had the house to yourselves.
You both had lapsed into a stretch of silence, and your eyelids were drooping as Baxter lazily stroked your hair.
Then he started talking.
"Would you like to know what I've been thinking about?" he asked.
"What's that?"
"Let me give you a hint," he said, bringing the hand that had been on your head down to your side.
He worked his warm fingers under the hem of your shirt and touched your stomach. You waited for him to go either further up or further down, sure he was trying to put the moves on you, but he didn't. His hand remained planted in the same spot.
Before you could guess, he started rubbing small circles on your belly, and in a lower voice he said, "I've been thinking about something growing right here."
You moved your head as best you could without actually moving, getting a glimpse of his face out of the corner of your eye. He was smirking, but he was serious.
"You want to have another baby."
"I think it would be enjoyable, yes."
You'd talked about having another kid one day after having Penny, but obviously there had never been any concrete plans. For him to put it out there so plainly and so suddenly had you reeling a bit.
Reading your expression correctly, he explained, "I find myself missing some of the moments from when Penny was younger, and in my humble opinion, we do make beautiful children together. But most importantly, and you may find this a tad surprising, is that I do find myself having more love to give."
You sat up for real at that point, facing him completely.
"That's not surprising at all."
Sometimes, every once in a while, the old Baxter popped up again. The self-deprecation that he tried to play off as a joke but that had a little too much bite. At this point in your relationship, you shut it down immediately when it reared its ugly head.
He smiled at you, aware of what you were doing. He moved his hand from your stomach up to your face, which he cupped lovingly. Then he kissed you, long and deep.
Pulling back just a bit, he said, "I understand completely if you don't want to have another child. I know it's a lot to ask, in many different ways. But if you do think you might want to --"
Before he could finish, you met his lips again. There was more passion this time, enough that it was an answer: yes, you would like to have another baby.
"Just by the way," you told him as you started undressing, "it might take a little longer to happen this time. We're not quite as young as we used to be."
As fate would have it, you'd already done enough waiting in your relationship.
Two months later, you were back in a bathroom with Cove, a line of pregnancy tests on the counter. This time, it wasn't in his old apartment in town -- he and Xavier had moved into a house down the block from the one you shared with Baxter. The door was cracked so he could listen for his son who was napping in his bedroom nearby.
"Well?" Cove asked, smiling down at you.
"Looks like you're going to be an uncle again."
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Baxter was a wonderful father. He was there, ready and willing and eager to take care of you throughout your pregnancy, and the first time he held Penny, you saw his entire world change. He put so much love and care into being a parent, so it didn't surprise you at all to see how tender he was in the delivery room after you'd given birth to your son.
As the doctors and nurses were finishing up, you held the baby to your chest, and Baxter was leaned down close, openly crying. He planted a gentle kiss on his forehead, then gave you one as well.
Later, when you were moved to a regular room, you were holding the baby again, but this time Baxter was lying in bed with you, his arms around you and one hand stroking your son's back.
"I've got my names, have you got yours?" he asked quietly.
When Penny was born, you'd been the one to come up with her first name, and he insisted on giving her two middle names -- your mothers' names. After you got pregnant again, he suggested doing the same thing, but you'd waited to find out the baby's sex until the birth, so nothing was set in stone.
"I think so," you whispered, glancing up at him. "How do you feel about James?"
It was Cove's middle name, but it was also nice and solid. You thought Baxter would appreciate both, and he did.
"I was wondering, and let me know if you disagree, but I thought it might be nice if one of his middle names was Alexander?" he said.
"Of course," you said quickly, knowing how found he was of his own middle name. "But you've got one left."
He looked down at the baby, thinking for a moment, then said, "If we gave Penny your mothers' names, then I see no reason to break with tradition now."
You looked at him again, not understanding where he was going with that. He smiled back at you.
"James Alexander Clifford Ward," he said. "What do you think?"
You could have blamed the tears on hormones, but they would have come regardless.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Nearly a year later, you had certainly gotten back into the routine of having a baby. It helped that this time around you had a third family member who was all too eager to help -- Penny was obsessed with her little brother, and the feeling was definitely mutual.
One day you came home from work, utterly spent, and as you were walking down the hallway to your bedroom you saw Baxter standing in the doorway to your daughter's room. He heard you coming, held a finger to his lips and smiled.
When you got closer, he pulled you to his side, snaking an arm around your waist. You looked inside and saw both of your children asleep on Penny's bed.
You watched them together for a moment before Baxter let you go, walking softly into the room and putting a blanket from the bed over them. As he walked out, he gave you a wink.
"We make cute kids, huh?" you asked, taking another look at them.
"Care to go for three?"
"Not on your life."
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
With Penny, things had been easy for Baxter, in terms of her interests. When she was little she liked playing dress up and having tea parties -- he was good at that. When she'd gotten older, she turned into a reader, and that was something they shared too. In general, they had similar tastes.
James, however, was different. That's why you were standing in Derek's yard on a Saturday morning, watching your old friend teach your husband the ins and outs of football.
Your son was 11, he'd just entered middle school, and he was desperate to try out for the team. He'd asked Baxter to help him, and of course he would, it's just that he had absolutely no idea about any of it. But Uncle Derek did. He was teaching them both as you stood close by the house with Derek's wife, Tamarack.
"I think he'll get it," she said, a little too much forced optimism in her voice.
"Baxter or James?" you asked.
"Yeah."
The two of you laughed -- you were too far away to hear what the guys were saying, but based on the look of confusion that hadn't left Baxter's face since they'd stepped out together, you couldn't imagine it was going very well.
Eventually, Derek took the ball and ran off a ways with it. You watched him lift it, then throw it to James, who caught it easily. Derek cheered him on, then jogged back over and made a gesture to Baxter, who turned and walked off. There was a little more coaching, then James took the ball in his hands carefully, then sent it soaring towards his father.
Baxter had grace and agility, a born dancer, but he was not quite an athlete. He couldn't catch the ball, and instead, it hit him in the face. He stumbled and brought his hands up to his face, and a few seconds later you saw blood seeping out between his fingers.
"Oh no!" Tamarack said, already moving for the back door. "I'll go get the first aid kit!"
You ran out to where Baxter stood, sheepishly holding his bloody nose. James and Derek were there already, looking concerned.
"I'm all right," Baxter said. His voice came out a little stuffy, but he offered a thumbs up to drive his words home.
"I'm sorry," James said, his brown eyes locked on the ground. "I didn't think about you not being able to catch it."
Derek snorted, then started coughing to cover up his laughter. That set you off, and you tried clearing your throat as a cover.
"Amused by my suffering, hmm?" Baxter asked, cocking an eyebrow at you both. "Go ahead, don't hold back on my account."
When Tamarack came back with supplies to patch up Baxter, she got him cleaned up quickly. His nose was busted, not broken, so you and Derek felt free to continue giggling at his expense.
"I'll tell you what," Baxter told Derek after the bleeding stopped. "You help me not injure myself around a football, and I'll be there for all your children's dancing and formalwear needs."
Derek was about to respond, but Tamarack cut in with "And plan their weddings for free."
Baxter glared at her for a moment, then looked over at James, who had gone off by himself for this boring part of the morning. He was practicing his hold on the football, miming throwing it until someone was free to play with him again.
"It's a deal."
#our life beginnings and always#our life#olba#baxter ward#cove holden#derek suarez#our life baxter#baxter x reader#baxter x mc#baxter x you#baxter ward x reader#baxter ward x mc#baxter ward x you#cove x xavier#derek x tamarack#daddy baxter
56 notes
·
View notes
Note
Some fluff with pregnant Alhaitham getting spoiled by his partners Kaveh and Wriothesley after having a difficult day?
Fluff fluff fluff fluff
Irritation radiated off the Scribe the moment he walked through his front door. Jaw clenched tight, shoulders tense and his body set ridged. He drops his belongings next to the door, kicks off his shoes, and goes straight for his bed.
AlHaitham hears Kaveh call him from the kitchen, but is in no state to respond. All he can think about is his bed, lying down and forgetting everything for a few precious hours.
By the time Kaveh had turned off the stove and gathered Wriothesley, AlHaitham was already curled up in bed. Back to the door, all they can see is the top of his and the outline of his tense form.
"Haitham?" Kaveh edges closer, crawling onto the bed beside his lover. Still, no response. AlHaitham's eyes were closed, but Kaveh knew he wasn't sleeping, and gently removed his earpiece.
"What happened?" Wrio joins quickly, kneeling on the other side of Kaveh, running his fingers through Alhaitham's slightly messy hair. There's worry in his voice, even more so when he sees how tightly the scribe is wrapped around his swollen belly. Hands running over his middle, soothing the unborn baby inside.
"Tell me what happened." Wrio continued to card his fingers through his lover's hair, while Kaveh rubbed his shoulder to let him know he was there as well, and listening.
"Just...a long day."
"Did something happen at work?" Kaveh chews his lip nervously, he wants his lover to just come out and say what the problem is, but he knows nagging him will only make him shut down further. Thankfully, AlHaitham didn't seem to be in the mood to dodge questions.
"Being questioned on if I can still do my work properly. They know they can't replace me, but they aren't quiet about their distaste," AlHaitham grumbles, pulling around himself tighter, "They think I can't hear them. Several people were gossiping about what a terrible parent I'll be." it had been a sore spot since the start of his pregnancy, one he'd reluctantly opened up about months prior. Alhaitham was well aware he wasn't the tender, motherly type, but Kaveh and Wrio never once thought he would be anything less than a perfect parent.
"Who said it." Wrio all but growls.
"Doesn't matter. Making a big deal out of it is worse than letting it go." AlHaitham wasn't wrong, but his lovers still didn't enjoy knowing there were people opening shit talking their precious lover.
"How about I go out and get your favorite dinner?" Wrio offers, but AlHaitham shakes his head.
"I'm not very hungry." Kaveh nestles down into the bed, wrapping himself around AlHaitham and nuzzling into the back of his neck.
"What if I make something light and bring it to you in bed? Wrio picked up some books from Fontaine, we could read to you some if you'd like." going still, AlHaitham thinks for a moment, before nodding. Wrio grins, pressing a kiss to his forehead before trotting off to find the stash of goodies he'd brought home. Kaveh untangles himself, quickly returning to the kitchen to finish dinner.
Within the hour, Wrio has AlHaitham nestled comfortably against his chest, reading aloud. A book on the history and legends of Fontaine, something AlHaitham had been curious about since they'd started dating. Kaveh is in front of him, spooning soup into his mouth. Despite his protest that he was more than capable of feeding himself, the blonde had sulked and insisted on doing it instead.
It was rare for AlHaitham to allow himself to be spoiled, but as he took mouthfuls of soup and warm bread and listened to Wrio's voice reading passages from one of the books, AlHaitham decides to allow himself to indulge more often.
8 notes
·
View notes
Note
I know you said you want Jonah to be a caretaker more, but I can’t help asking for him to be the sickee because he’s my favorite ;) and also because out of all sick fics I���ve read he’s the only character who’s a sympathy puker and I find that so interesting.
So to get to the point, could you write a fic about what happens when a patient throws up in front of him?
This is very short because I don't love writing about other randoms, but here's just a taste of Jon's personal hell hehe
---------
Jonah groaned loudly as he glanced at the file of his next patient. Fuck the flu, he thought sourly. It had been a pretty strenuous month at the hospital thanks to this bug. While he had managed to avoid the initial two weeks of it, soon enough even the doctors were dropping like flies and he could no longer hide in orthopedics. Wendy had gone down and then he had followed suit, so now he couldn't even pretend he was trying avoid contagion.
Jonah: i'll trade ur next patient for mine. I'll even pay
Wendy's contact turned green and then she sent him a bunch of puking emojis.
Wendy: mine is the flu too, no such luck.
Fuck.
He sighed and collected himself, ready to face his patient. It was a teenager, their mom hanging anxiously right next to them and the kid had already been given an emesis basin. Just the sight of it made Jonah's stomach roll.
"Hi Oliver, I'm Dr. Banks," Jonah lead the conversation, his full customer voice on. He listened painfully as Oliver's mom - Cathy - rattled off her son's symptoms. It sounded just like the flu, like the front desk nurses had put as prognostic, but still Jonah didn't like taking any chances.
"I'm gonna palpate your stomach, alright Oliver? I'm fairly certain is the flu, but we don't want to risk it."
Cathy looked visibly relieved as she aided her son climb on the examining bed, but Oliver not so much. He pressed a hand to his mouth, burping wetly, "it hurts..."
"I'll be gentle, I promise," Jonah promised, aiding the kid to lie down correctly and rolling up his shirt to the middle of his chest. He held the stethoscope to the teen's bloated belly, while pressing gently in the fashion had been taught to. Left lower quadrant first, right lower second- He pressed, then released suddenly and didn't get a cry out of pain, nor met any tenderness there. Rule out appendicitis.
In the stetoscope he heard as a gurgle moved through the boy's belly, followed by a nauseated burp, "doctor..."
"almost done," Jonah cringed, wanting to hurry the fuck up, but he knew he couldn't in good conscience. He pressed on the upper right, it was sloshy and gross-
"Doc-URrp-" Oliver grabbed on his mom to roll to the side, shoving Jonah off just as he brought up a splash of bright yellow bile all over the pristine floors of the office.
Jonah immediately gagged, but he pressed his lips tightly, planting a hand on the boy's heaving back, while his mom cooed and fretted about.
"Mrs. Grant," his voice didn't sound like his own, thick with nausea, "can you keep Oliver company for a second, I'll call in one of the janitors."
"Of course," she took the emesis bowl he passed her and then Jonah did his best not to run out of the door.
He hardly made it to the staff's bathroom, leaning over the sink as the coffee he had previously chugged came back up. It tasted bitter and that alone had him gagging for another solid minute, spitting up ropes of acid.
His stomach hurt, tender from all the abuse it had been going through lately. There was a knock on the door.
"It's fucking occupied!" He snapped angrily, washing his mouth, only for another wave of queasiness to have him gagging up the water. He panted, holding his belly, "fuck."
"Dr. Banks," Wendy's voice was like a balm, "do you need help."
Ah fuck, yes, Jonah sighed in relief and unlocked the door. Immediately Wendy entered, slamming the door behind her so no one would see him.
"Shit, Jon..."
"I need-" he burped again, squeezing his eyes shut, "janitor in my office. Patient-"
"Patient is still there?"
"Yes..." he swallowed the urge to throw up once more, "I can't do this."
"You can," she rubbed his arm in a reassuring manner, "I'll go deal with your patient, take my office. My next one is a broken leg."
He nodded, squeezing the sink, "thanks."
"No problem" she squeezed his arm, "get it together."
"Trying," he took another sip of the water, only for it to come back up as the smell of the puke flashed through his mind, "fuck-"
45 notes
·
View notes
Text
Love me tender || Frankie Morales x f!reader**
summary: Frankie almost insists on being there for you on a bad day, and your response is more than welcomed.
word count: 2.1k
WARNINGS: period sex (vague descriptions of periods implicitly).
AGELESS/EMPTY BLOGS & MINORS WILL BE BLOCKED!
DISCLAIMER: this is in no way a depiction of how all periods feel. people who menstruate feel it differently. this is more or less drawn from my own experience.
Gratitude and relief were a bit further of your list of reasons to be happy today.
And if you were completely honest, the list was incredibly short as it was.
You woke up feeling cramps and you already felt the impending doom waiting to take over your body. Surely enough, half hour later you were rushing to the bathroom with a pad in your hand and what you liked to call “the emergency granny panties”, the familiar yet ever annoying pressure in your belly persisting.
Displeased grunts filled the bathroom, much to Frankie’s surprise. He knocked on the door, barely daring to press his ear on the door, let alone insist on walking in on you.
“Everything okay in there, baby?”
The response came delayed, merely strengthening his concern.
“Fabulous, yeah.”
“Okay, I can sense your sarcastic tone, but I’m starting to get kinda worried out here.”
“I’m fine, babe, don’t worry.”
“You’ve been grunting for the past half hour.”
The door finally opened and your irritated facial expression met Frankie’s puppy-like one. He puckered his lips, quickly getting a grasp of the situation.
“Time of the month?” he checked.
“Unfortunately, you guessed correctly.”
“There are two ways you can get rid of that, and we agreed on at least one of them.”
You snickered, although that did manage to steal a smile from your lips. You crashed into his arms, his warmth working like an immediate sedative.
“Now, unless you’ve changed your mind regarding one of those two ways and you want to not deal with this for the next nine months—“
“Don’t start now, Morales—“
“—what can I do to help?”
You huffed, looking up at him. “I don’t think you can go back in time and prevent periods from ever being created.”
Frowning, Frankie stared incredulously at you, half amused.
“I don’t think any regular guy invented them, so chances are slim.”
“I didn’t expect you to fight God or whatever. I know it was a long shot.”
He kissed your forehead, cupping your cheeks lovingly.
“Can I get you some tea or anything, at least?”
“Some chamomile tea does sound good, actually.”
“On it.”
Frankie had always been incredibly devoted and kind, always made sure you had everything you needed on all fronts. For the rest of the day, though, he took it to a whole new level of care, one that you never would’ve imagined possible.
After he made you the tea, he brought you your heating pad, stocked up your favorite snacks in case your cravings kicked in, and fluffed your pillows. You saw him fugitively for the rest of the day, with him running errands and spending quite a significant amount of time in his office.
“Frankie, baby? You around?”
He peeked through the bedroom door, phone in his hands, looking curiously at you.
“Did you need anything? I made you some soup if you want. You should eat something warm and nutritious—“
“I just wanted to see you. I feel like you’ve been roaming around all day today, I missed you.”
He put the phone away and scooted next to you on the bed, letting you nuzzle in the crook of his neck while his hand caressed your hair.
“I’ve been doing some reading on periods, trying to figure out exactly what’s going on—“
“You what? Go back.”
You and Frankie exchanged a look of confusion.
“What?” he asked innocently.
“You’ve been reading about periods?”
“Yeah. Just thought I should get more information to know how to make things more comfortable for you.”
Jaw quite literally dropped, you still stared at him with utter disbelief. “Let me get this straight. You voluntarily read about periods to make the situation more comfortable for me?”
“Yeah, what—did I not say it right the first time around?”
“No, no, you did. I just…”
You paused, trying to find the right words. In a heartbeat, you were starting to feel something a little more than warmth. It was a fire, treacherously spreading in between your legs, as sensitive as that area felt in that moment, nesting in your belly the more you stared at the man. You could not believe that a man would go through that much trouble just to find a way to make you feel safer and more comfortable.
You might’ve just hit the jackpot with him.
“This is so goddamn attractive,” you muttered.
“It is?”
“Looking up kinda gross information about women just to make sure your partner is okay? Hot!”
Frankie chuckled, his thumb grazing your cheek.
“It’s not that gross,” he tells you in return.
“Please. It’s a woman’s curse for not being pregnant. Totally uncalled for if you ask me.”
“You women go through so much, it feels unfair.”
“It is, thank you!”
You both chuckled. The cramps have eased for a while now, you were all warm and cozy and the feeling from before persisted. It was like a button waiting to be pressed, gently, in order to release the sweetest, most intoxicating physical form of love.
“I didn’t do any of this for recognition of my attractiveness, just so you know,” he informed you.
“I know. Which in turn also makes you even sexier.”
“I’m on fire today, aren’t I?”
“Oh yeah.”
You grinned, eyes roaming his body with adoration and lust alike.
“So what did you find out in your research?” you asked in an attempt to distract yourself.
“That the pain is as bad as having a heart attack, which is insane—“
“Oh hell yeah.”
“And uh… that every month there’s basically chunks of your uterus detaching themselves during the cycle which, again… insane.”
“Damn crazy.”
“Oh, and also that there’s certain things that help with the cramps.”
“Yeah. Pills, chamomile tea—“
“Orgasms can relieve the pain, too.”
Wide-eyed, you stared rather shocked at your partner, too incredulous to even articulate a single word.
You’ve had your fair share of partners, but none took their time to research about such things, let alone taking their time to put you first. You were just so used to the whole “periods are gross” thing that you didn’t think anyone would actually bother.
But Frankie wasn’t just anyone. He was attentive and kind and sweet – except when you didn’t want him to be.
“I’m sorry—what did you just say?” you checked.
Frankie chuckled just as surprised as you, but for an entirely different reason.
“Orgasms can relieve period cramps as well, I’ve been reading about it,” he continued. “For people who menstruate, if they feel up for it, orgasms can be a great source of relieving cramps, pressure—“
“Okay, this is… you gotta stop talking now.”
“Why?”
“Because this is one of the most attractive things I have ever heard and I am not sure how much of this I can handle.”
“This? Really?”
“Uh, are you kidding me? Taking the time to learn about such a topic, wanting to be there for me and make me feel good… very attractive.”
Frankie’s facial expression turned into one of astonishment. This certainly was an unexpected side effect of his research. All of that work had been put towards his own better knowledge and your potential pleasure, having nothing to do with a gratuitous attitude from your side.
He couldn’t say he wasn’t a fan though.
“So… anyway,” he resumed, slightly flustered himself. “If you’re feeling bad, I’m here for you.”
You grabbed the collar of his t-shirt, thus pulling him in, and you pressed your lips onto his, forming a kiss that’s tender yet passionate enough so he knew what your intentions were.
It was so easy to get lost in your scent and your taste, and the way you were kissing him was maddening enough that Frankie was half hard already. You opened your legs, making sufficient space in between for him, and Frankie’s nearly gone when one of your legs wrapped around his waist. He grunted in your mouth as your hands roamed at the hem of the t-shirt, eager to remove it from his body.
“Well this was a fast response,” he muttered, lips nibbling at your jaw.
You smiled in a frenzy as more of Frankie’s skin was exposed before you. You adored every inch of him, every scar, every slope and softness of it. You trembled when he peppered kisses down your neck and onto your cleavage, teeth barely pinching your nipples through the shirt; your hands went to his sweatpants, pleasantly remarking he was so hard already, and you rushed to get him out of them.
Frankie followed your lead and undressed before you, reaching into the nightstand to grab a condom. You watched the scene unfold with incredible lust, desire pooling in your lower belly even more than before. Although it was hard to say if it was arousal or your period – or a mixture of the both – it mattered not. He took one of the pillows on the bed and placed it underneath your back, as well as one of your darker colored towels, to which you shivered.
“Are you okay?” he asked, noticing that.
“Yes. I’m just… I didn’t expect you to be this prepared.”
“These are your favorite sheets, I doubt you’d want them stained in any way if—“
“Oh, shut up and do me.”
You couldn’t handle it anymore; you pulled Frankie back in for a kiss as he gently disposed of the clothes covering your lower region. He carefully placed your underwear and pad away, guiding himself to your entrance with care. You both gasped as that first push of his cock through your sensitive walls weakened your whole body.
“God, you feel… so good,” Frankie whimpered, biceps rippling as he leaned on the mattress for support.
You couldn’t do anything but moan and reach for his lips as Frankie began to roll his hips into yours, pace tender and caring just like the man atop of you.
“Is this okay? Are you okay?”
“Yes—yes, just please keep moving—“
You didn’t have to tell him twice: Frankie set a pace that was equally pleasurable as your many other past encounters, arguably needier and filthier. He knew you needed him in a more intimate manner now, in a way that expressed care above all.
The only sound in the room were your huffs and moans and the squelching sounds that betrayed your arousal and your delicate disposition. His hands traveled to your hips, holding you in place as he kept thrusting, watching your reactions closely. He pushed deep and slow, the friction maddening enough. It was more than enough to feel him so closely, so full of him and wrapped up in his warmth and care.
There was buildup in your belly, one that made you more sensible than usual and you tried to warn Frankie by grabbing onto his forearm and drawing him closer. But he felt you, he felt every portion of you and knew when you were close. He learned every inch of your body and its tell signs inside and out.
“I know, baby,” he muttered, forehead on yours. “I know… I got you.”
“Oh God—Frankie – “
“It’s okay, I got you… cum for me? Hm?”
Your chest heaving, you came and let yourself go completely. Frankie’s thrusts didn’t stop; on the contrary, he sped up a little, eager when he felt his own climax building within.
“You get so tight when you cum, shit—“he groaned, face scrunched in pure ecstasy.
With a few more thrusts, Frankie came, cock throbbing and pulsing inside of you, causing you to tremble all over again. You cupped his cheeks as he began to climb down from his high, pecking his nose sweetly.
“I am so thankful you looked all of that stuff up,” you breathed.
Frankie smiled, visibly flustered. “Did that feel good? Are you alright?”
“I got my dose of dopamine, so… I will go ahead and say hell yes.”
Another smile from his side. He kissed you sweetly, still inside of you.
“I love you so much,” you whispered. “Thank you.”
“I love you so much too, baby, but… what are you thanking me for?”
“Taking such good care of me. You’re incredible.”
You pecked his nose sweetly, fingers caressing his hair.
“Eh. I do my best.”
“Mission accomplished, honey.”
#frankie morales#frankie morales x reader#frankie morales fanfiction#frankie morales fic#frankie morales smut#frankie morales x you#franscisco morales#francisco morales x reader#francisco morales smut#triple frontier fic#pedro pascal#pedro pascal fanfiction#pedro pascal fic#pedro pascal smut
645 notes
·
View notes
Text
Delicate
This is technically a sequel to last year’s Dad Mirio fic but can be read on its own! Everyone’s favorite Wholesome Dilf continues to live rent-free in my brain.
“I miss you soooo much,” Mirio says for the fifth time in the past twenty minutes. You give him a comforting smile from your side of the screen, you know how he feels. Your husband’s been gone for three days now helping with a disaster in Osaka, and he probably won’t be home for the rest of the week. It’s hard being married to one of Japan’s top heroes, you think to yourself. You wish you could be there with him, putting your training to good use where it’s needed, but your current assignment is too important to ignore. It’s as if he can read your mind from the other side of the country. “How’s my buddy doing?”
You smile and tilt your camera down to show off your heavy stomach. At eight months pregnant, you’re sidelined from hero work no matter what the crisis is. “He’s alright,” you confirm. “I think he’s bored without you around, though.” He lets out a little whine that’s almost heartbreaking; it’s obvious where he’d rather be right now. You take pity on him and drop the phone level with your belly to give him a better view.
“Hey buddy,” he coos. “I promise, I’ll finish as fast as I can so I can come home to you and Mama soon.” You feel movement inside you as he talks. You don’t know how good your baby’s hearing is, especially through the video chat, but you’re sure that he’s reacting to his father’s familiar voice. “I can’t wait to get back and feel how strong you’re kicking in there. I bet you’re driving Mama crazy!” You relax further into your pillows and let him babble on to your bump about his day saving civilians and clearing out rubble, only a little lonely when you look over at the empty half of your bed. You really do miss him, your house is far too quiet and calm without his usual energy filling it.
You yawn after a few more minutes and glance at the time. “Sorry, it’s getting kinda late. Would you mind if we called it a night for now?”
He smiles, but you can tell that he’s trying to hide his disappointment. “No problem, I know you need your sleep. We’ll talk again tomorrow, okay?” You agree and tell your husband you love him before hanging up the phone and settling in for bed. You’re tired, but you’ve gotten too comfortable with him sleeping beside you and it takes awhile to fall asleep on your own.
You spend the next morning balancing your laptop over your swollen belly while you browse through maternity clothes. There’s a local shop that promises same-day delivery, and you treat yourself to a few things for your last month. You read through your email, a magazine wants a quick interview for an article about hero families and you’re happy to answer their questions. It’s hard to move too much in your condition, but you make sure to do the prenatal exercises your doctor recommended and then have a nice long shower. Your new clothes arrive and you leave them on the dresser for now while you eat lunch and call your family. It still seems too quiet in the house without Mirio, and you’re getting bored when your phone finally rings and your face lights up at his name.
“Hey sweetheart! I’ve got a surprise for you!”
You can hear the smile in his voice and it warms your heart. “Is it dinner? I think somebody in here’s really craving steak tonight.”
He laughs. “You’ll see. Just have a seat on the couch and close your eyes for a second, okay?”
This isn’t the weirdest thing he’s requested over the phone, and you obey. “Alright, they’re closed. What are you planning, Lemillion?”
“You can open your eyes in three...two...one…” his voice disappears from the phone, all you hear is the background noise of birds chirping.
“Mirio?” Your eyes are still closed.
“SURPRISE!”
You jump in shock and drop your phone, your eyes flying open. He’s standing in front of you with the biggest grin on his face, completely naked. It takes you a second to realize he must have phased through the front door to surprise you. You struggle to stand but fail, and he has to pull you up himself into his arms for a deep kiss. “You’re home early! How’d you manage that?”
“The others knew how much I wanted to get home, with you being pregnant and all, and everybody worked extra hard to cover for me so I could leave first.” You owe every single one of them a thank you gift. “Boy, that Uravity is amazing with rescue work!” Oh, you owe her twice as much after this.
“I’m glad you’re home,” you sigh happily. Your husband drops to his knees in front of you and pushes your shirt up to kiss your stomach, rubbing his hand where he feels a faint kick.
“Me too. I missed our family so much.” His arms wrap around you and he rests his head against your middle. You run your fingers through his hair, both of you taking a minute to relish your little reunion. It’s only been a few days, but it was more than enough to make you homesick for each other.
He stands back up after a bit and you head for the hallway. “You should go grab your phone off the porch and take a shower. I’ve got a bit of a surprise for you too, when you’re done.” He’s happy to obey and you follow him down the hall, pausing at the front door then into the bedroom. You wait for the bathroom door to shut and then spring into action as fast as you can. You clothes come off; you kick them under the bed instead of wasting precious time trying to pick them off the floor.
You reach for the new clothes on the dresser and find the outfit you’d picked for his welcome home gift. The bra is made out of soft white lace so flimsy it looks like it’ll tear if you breathe too hard. It ties closed with a ribbon in the front and your clumsy fingers finally form a decent bow on the third try. A skirt attaches beneath the cups and just skims your thighs, the two halves of it parted to show off your obvious pregnancy. You’re lucky that the matching underwear ties on the sides with more ribbon; you’re not sure you’d be able to get them on without five minutes of struggling if you had to step into them.
You look at yourself in the mirror and adjust the skirt of your lingerie. Despite the sheer fabric leaving little to the imagination, you look sweet. Innocent. Delicate. A grin spreads across your face; it’s perfect.
You get dressed just in time; you hear the shower turn off and the door opens a second later. “There, all clean and-” Mirio freezes at the sight of you and you see his fingers twitch against the towel wrapped around his waist. “Oh, wow. You look...just, wow.” He’s crossed the room faster than you can react, strong arms wrapping you in a tight, warm hug. “You’re so gorgeous like this, babe.”
You lean into his body; you’ve missed this while he was gone. “Well, it’ll be awhile before we can do this again. I figured we should really enjoy ourselves while we still can.” He nods and gives you a surprisingly gentle kiss. You can tell he’s holding back his strength for your benefit and the knowledge makes your heart flutter.
Mirio recovers from his surprise quickly and returns to his usual unstoppable energy. “I’m gonna make you feel so good, I promise!” His bigger hand is warm around yours as he guides you to your bed, losing his towel in the process. You don’t hide your staring; his body is gorgeous after so many years of training and you could look at him for hours. He sits back against the headboard and carefully brings you with him to straddle his lap, and you feel his cock already growing hard against your thigh. “We’ll take it easy,” he promises. “I know we have to be a little more gentle now since you’re so big-” You stare down at Mirio silently, but he continues. “What? You are big, that’s a good thing. You’re growing our baby in there, he needs all that room!” You just shake your head; you can’t really feel annoyed when he’s this sweet.
He looks up at you with pure affection written all over his face and leans into your touch as you run your fingers through his damp hair. “How can you be this buff and this adorable?” It’s not the first time you’ve asked as much, and every time he laughs you off with a faint blush on his cheeks. You lean in for another kiss while his hands move from your hips over your ribs to the front of your slip.
“This is so pretty, you should keep it on.” He gives your chest a squeeze and you whine, too sensitive from the hormones wrecking havoc on your body. You knew your breasts were going to get bigger, but they’ve turned out to be overachievers and you’ve jumped up two cup sizes already. “They’re still really sore, huh?” You nod and he offers you a comforting smile as he plays with the bow before finally tugging it open. Your nipples are already hard, and you don’t miss how he licks his lips when his thumb brushes over one. “I could help you with that, if you want.”
“Mirio…” You love your husband and all his enthusiasm, but you’re well aware that he can be a little too eager and get carried away. He’s being careful now as his fingers trace against your warm skin, his touch barely teasing you. He pulls you closer; you can feel the smile on his lips as he leans into your neck. He follows your pulse, down your collarbone to leave kisses at the swell of your breast and you sigh. “Okay,” you agree. “Just remember to-”
“I know, be gentle. Don’t worry babe, I’m gonna take good care of you.” He pushes your lingerie out of the way to get a better view at your heavy chest and appreciates the sight of it. “Man, our kid’s not gonna be lacking on calcium, is he?”
“I love you, please stop talking.” He laughs but obeys, his tongue flicking over your nipple and making you squirm in his arms. He does it a few times and you let out a little gasp when he takes you into his mouth. “Go easy,” you remind him, but he’s already distracted with his task. You asked your doctor about doing this before and were told it was perfectly fine, but you can’t quite shake the thought that it’s a little weird as Mirio begins to suck at your tender nipple.
You’ve tried this before, but every time he’s been too rough in his excitement and you’ve had to yank his head away from you in pain. Tonight though, he’s trying his best and after a few seconds of discomfort there’s an unfamiliar tingle deep in your breast as your body responds to his stimulation. “It feels weird,” you groan, but your fingers thread into his hair so he won’t pull away. “It’s not bad, just weird.” You’re not entirely sure you like what he’s doing, but you’re willing to continue until you figure it out. His tongue brushes over you with a slightly different motion, and something in you clicks into place. “Can you do that again? I think I liked that.”
His laughter is muffled but still obvious and you can feel the smile against your skin. Mirio’s happy to assist, one strong hand settling on your back to keep you steady. It wasn’t a mistake; he repeats his movements and you realize that it feels good. It feels really good, you have to admit, as his eyes slip closed so he can focus entirely on pleasing you like this. You hold him tight to your body, fingers running through his messy hair while you enjoy the affection so happily given. You’re still sensitive though, and after a few more minutes you start to get overwhelmed and have to pull him away.
“It tastes good.” His grin is huge as he licks his lips. “It’s sweet, just like the rest of you.” You’d roll your eyes if he wasn’t so cute. He gives your breast a gentle squeeze and earns another whimper from you, then turns his attention to the other one. “Don’t want this side feeling left out, right? Lucky I’m here to take care of everything!” Your heart skips a beat, you’re so in love with this silly, wonderful idiot. You don’t get a chance to respond, once his mouth is back on you it’s hard to do anything besides pant and whine for him.
You squirm against him, his dick pressing against your thigh and your panties doing very little to hide how much you’re loving this. “Miriooo,” you moan, and the look in his eyes is nothing but pure happiness that makes you melt. “You always take good care of me,” you coo, reaching down to stroke his cock lightly. “You’re so good to me, honey.” He pulls you closer and releases your chest to look up and meet your eyes.
“Babe, I’m just giving you what you deserve. You’re literally making a brand new, little person in there. If that’s not worth being extra nice, I don’t know what is.” He really has no idea how perfect he is. His thumb brushes over your nipple and your body is so sensitive now it makes you shudder. “Alright now?”
You stop for a second to consider. Your breasts do feel a bit lighter, there’s less pressure weighing down on you after his help. “Yeah, thanks. You’re the best, really.”
He brushes off your compliment in favor of pulling at the strings holding your underwear together. “Just doing my job, miss.” He groans at the sight of you fully naked and traces a finger along the lips of your cunt. You hadn’t noticed just how wet you were getting as he’d worked on your nipples, but now two of his fingers slip inside you with no effort. “I love you so much,” he says with another kiss.
You buck into his hand mindlessly, too eager for his touch after only a few days. You want to hold off and come with his dick buried inside you, but you can’t deny yourself when you’re this needy already. “I want it,” you whine pitifully.
His other hand gives your hip a reassuring squeeze. “I know, baby. You can have whatever you want, just tell me.” His thumb swirls over your clit and he doesn’t miss the jolt that runs down your body. “Right there, huh? My pretty little wife wants me to make her come?” His smirk is playful and there’s a glint of mischief in those friendly eyes.
“Mirio, please.” Hearing him talk like that does something to you and you hide your face in the crook of his neck.
His hand moves faster and your pussy clenches tight around his fingers. “It’s alright, I’ve got you. Just let yourself go for me.” His voice is so warm and soothing, you can’t resist. Your orgasm is marked with desperate whispers in his ear as his hand moves gently between your thighs to urge you on. “That’s it, honey. You’re so good, I want more of you.”
It takes you a minute to calm down before you’re able to pry your sweaty face away from his shoulder. His fingers leave you aching to be filled again, and you swallow hard when you watch him bring them to his mouth to lick them clean.
“That’s my girl,” he smiles like the sun and you look away, almost embarrassed by the affection between you two. You can’t see anything past your swollen belly, but you can feel his thick cock ready for a turn. “Are you up for more? It’s fine if you need to wait-”
You fumble blindly for his cock until the tip presses just outside your cunt. “I want you inside me. Here, Mirio. Your pretty little wife wants to make you come.” The blush spreading across his face at your words is a special reward of its own. His hips thrust upward to enter you while he slowly pulls you down to meet him, and your mouth falls open in a long moan. “Fuck, Mirio. We’ll have to wait a couple weeks after he’s born and it’s gonna suck so bad.”
He hasn’t put much thought into this fact and you can practically see the gears in his head turning. “Well then, I guess we’d better make it count while we still have the chance,” he says finally. He’s always so much stronger than you, even when you’re not in such a delicate condition, and easily sets a steady pace moving you up and down his dick. You cling to his shoulders to steady yourself as you ride him, pressing your tongue into hs mouth to devour his sounds. This may be the peak of happiness, with your sweet husband pounding away inside your excited pussy, showering you with compliments about how great you are and how perfect your little family is going to be. “And once he gets a little older, we can start working on his siblings!”
Your hips falter in their rhythm at the suggestion. “S-siblings? Already?”
He grins back at you. “Of course! We need five or six, at least!”
“Five or six…” you repeat, suddenly distracted by the thought of doing this another half-dozen times. You don’t know why you’re surprised, it’d be more of a shock if he didn’t have infinite love to share. The idea doesn’t bother you, and you find yourself returning his smile with a smirk of your own. “You really wanna fill me up that much, Lemillion?”
You’re not expecting his thrusts to speed up so much or for him to pull you down so hard you’re gasping for air. “God, babe. So much. I think about it like, all the time now. You have no idea.” He stops to kiss you again, and your cunt squeezes hard around him. “I can take more time off of work,” Mirio insists mindlessly, getting far too ahead of himself. “I bet I can hold so many babies at once.”
You laugh, he’s so ridiculous sometimes. “Let’s just focus on this one for awhile, okay?” He nods, trailing his lips down your throat to feel how fast your pulse is racing for him. You can feel another orgasm building, and that he isn’t far behind. You were only apart for three days but it seems like far too long. “You’re really, really the best.”
He cups your sweaty face in one hand, the look in his eyes so soft and loving it takes your breath away. There aren’t enough words to describe how much you love him right now, and clearly it’s the same for him. Wordlessly he releases you and drags his hand down your body, stopping to tweak your nipples and making you cry out. His fingers drop to rub firmly against your clit, and your back goes rigid. “Miri-ohh. Just like that, I’m gonna...there, fuck.” You clamp down hard on his cock with a loud moan and he holds you tight, supporting your overworked body while you come. “Here,” your voice is ragged. “Your turn, I know you’re dying to come inside me.”
“You’re amazing, honey.” That last compliment is all he gets out before his pace goes sloppy and you feel him flooding your pussy with a low groan. “You’re so amazing.”
You cling to him while he gradually wears himself out and stay wrapped up in his arms for the next few minutes. Eventually, there’s a firm kick in your belly that informs you that someone noticed all your movement and he’s not happy about it. Both of you laugh as you separate; you flop down on the bed while Mirio cleans you up and finds you a comfy, oversized shirt and fresh panties to wear. It’s still fairly early, and you won’t be tired enough to sleep for a few hours.
“Now that was a welcome home gift. You should just wear that around the house until you have the baby, it looks really great on you.”
You ruffle his messy hair. “I don’t think it would survive the entire month around you,” you tease. You stretch your arms above your head and feel a grumble in your stomach. “So, the surprise wasn’t steak for dinner tonight?”
He’s in too good of a mood to even think of denying you. “It is now!” He’s already fumbling for his phone to look up menus. “Whatever you wanna eat, just say the word!”
Sometimes you wonder how you ever got so lucky.
162 notes
·
View notes
Text
VelvetCardiganBucky’s Recommendations 2021: Week 12 & 13 | March 14th – March 27th
Welcome to weeks 12 & 13 of my recommendations, if you would like to be featured on a future list, I follow the hashtag #VelvetCardiganBucky, message me, tag me in your future works, or reblog this post and link to your story, one-shot, Masterlist, writing challenge, etc.
Be aware some if not most stories and writers on this list are meant to be consumed by an audience of those 18+. My blog is also an 18+ blog.
✨Page breaks are made @firefly-graphics✨
«Last Week
Week 14»
My Masterlist
My Fic Rec List of Mafia/Mob Bucky/Sebastian & Steve/Chris/Andy
Stuff I Posted This Week:
Steve + Bey = 4Ever » Steve Rogers and Bey carved places in each other’s hearts, that no one else could ever replace.
I Hear A Symphony » Bucky Barnes x Mutant!Reader — Reader plays an important song to her for Bucky.
—Formerly The Winter Soldier » “I’m no longer the winter soldier, my name is James Bucky Barnes & you're part of my effort to make amends.”
Lee Bodecker
(Mini) Series:
*Give In by @not-a-great-writer » soft!dark!Lee Bodecker x shy!Reader — She didn’t think she was anything special. So when the intimidating Sheriff takes an interest in her, she can’t help but feel a little unsettled. Her boring life is about to get a little interesting. | This story has to be one of my all time series I’ve ever read, and I know I will weep when it’s over. The chapters are decently sized, you have angst, fluff and smut. I couldn’t ask for more, it’s simply a masterpiece.
Deadbeat Pt. 9 by @the-witty-pen-name » Lee Bodecker x F!Reader — You work at the bar at the edge of town, the Sheriff is going through a divorce and needs to rent a room. | Cole thank you for feeding my current Lee Bodecker obsession after I watched The Devil All The Time, for the time. This story is good and I love soft!Lee, and one where no one dies. At least I hope no one dies...
SamBucky
One-Shots:
Loving You Is Cherry Pie by @river-soul » Sam Wilson x Reader x Bucky Barnes — When Sam Wilson, one of your regulars at the cafe finally asks you out, you’re ecstatic until he tells you he wants his friend to join. When you meet Bucky, you decide it might be worth your while after all. [Allusions to stalking, exhibitionism and explicit sex, 18+] | There is just not enough SamBuck stories out there and we have @river-soul to thank for feeding our love for the boys and giving us some good smut, especially to tide us over till Friday.
Nothing Good Happens After 2 AM by @callmeluna » Sam Wilson x Reader x Bucky Barnes — You are admittedly a handful when you’ve had a few drinks in you. Luckily, your partners Sam and Bucky are more than up for the challenge… maybe. | If you are looking for something to make you laugh, might I suggest reading this? The whole time as I read this I couldn’t get the huge smile off my face, it was that good.
Bucky Barnes
Drabbles:
Matching by @heli0s-writes » Bucky Barnes x Reader — Reader and Bucky are “matchy matchy,” with their belly button rings. | This is adorable as well as very funny.
One-Shots:
Smooth Criminal by @bestofbucky » Bucky Barnes x Reader — Based on a dream @velvetcardiganbucky had. You’re parents told you to never give rides to strangers, but when you notice Bucky Barnes trying to break into your car, you know some strangers aren’t so bad. | Jenny did my dream justice! I honestly couldn’t have asked for anything better.
Don’t Over Do It by @whisperlullaby » Bucky Barnes x Reader — Your boyfriend is an asshole. Bucky reminds you that you are perfect the way you are. | I can’t describe this anyway other than perfect, that I wish I had a Bucky like this there for me. Trust me you’ll love the ending.
Coming Home to You by @angrythingstarlight » Biker!Bucky Barnes x Reader — Your Biker boyfriend is finally home and he’s going to show you how much he missed you. With every inch he has. And you’re going to remember how much he loves you. | It’s not very often you read something that has an alternate ending and when you do you find yourself loving both endings. Both endings are hot, the smut is great, again who couldn’t love Biker!Bucky?
Won’t Let You Go by @kind-of-crazy-butthatsokay » Mob!Bucky Barnes x OFC!Kori — Kori met Bucky in one of his clubs, out to get shit-faced with a couple of friends to forget about her worries and maybe take home a guy to further rid herself of her numerous frustrations. Little did she know that the one-night stand with Bucky would turn into so much more than that. | Thank you so much for entering my writing challenge, it means so much. This one-shot is so good, it hit me right the feels and left me falling in love with Kori and Bucky.
Show Me How To Ride by @angrythingstarlight » Beefy Biker!Bucky Barnes x Reader — You’ve been keeping a secret from your biker boyfriend. He is going to get the information out of you one way or the other. | It’s hot and it makes you realize just how much you realize just how much you love Biker!Bucky.
Bubble Baths by @floatingpetals » Bucky Barnes x Reader (Modern AU) — Even your boyfriend Bucky, needs to wind down at the end of a stressful with a bubble bath, but he doesn’t want to do it alone. | Okay, so my summary of this sucks but let me just say this is fluffy and smutty all at once. I wish I had Bucky to take a bubbly bath with.
Bad Boy!Bucky Barnes x Shy!Reader by @gagmebucky — in which there’s nowhere to sit and bucky offers his lap—then, subsequently, his cock. (bad boy!bucky x shy!reader, dirty talk, exhibitionism and voyeurism, cockwarming, unprotected sex.) | *chugs water* yeah is it a little hot in here? I probably would have failed class if Bucky had been in my class along with Steve, I wouldn’t have known who to stare at, forget learning the material.
**Greater Good by @fuel-joy » Bucky Barnes x Reader — There is a cure for the zombie outbreak but is it worth the cost. | Grab your tissues, because you are going to need them. Thanks darling for entering my writing challenge and making me feel so many feels with this one.
(Mini) Series:
A Tender Heart ♥️ Pt. 2 by @river-soul » Alpha!Bucky Barnes x Omega!Reader — You’ve been sweet on Bucky since you started working at the compound six months ago. Normally quiet and mild mannered, an unexpired fight with a coworker brings Bucky into your orbit. [A/B/O dynamics, brief mention of bullying and fluff] | If anyone can pull at your heartstrings it’s @river-soul making the beginning of this series look so promising and I can’t wait to see where it goes.
Run To You 🪙 Pt. 10 🪙 Pt. 11 🪙 Pt. 12 by @bestofbucky » Mob!Bucky Barnes x Bodyguard!Reader — Mob boss Bucky Barnes hires you to be his bodyguard. | Jenny left me at the edge of my seat, making this such an amazing story, I always look forward to her updates, and so sad that there is only 1 chapter left.
Better than Working sequel to This by @angrythingstarlight » Beefy Biker!Bucky Barnes x Reader — Beefy Biker Bucky shows you all the benefits of working from home. In fact what he has for you is so much better than work. | Sometimes you just need to read something hot to lift your spirits, let this do that.
Stucky
One-Shots:
*Tell Me What You Want by @angrythingstarlight » Mafia!Steve Rogers x Reader; Mafia!Bucky Barnes x Reader — Your mob boyfriend, is none other than Steve Rogers and he is willing to get you whatever you wanted, all you have to do is ask. And be careful what you ask for because he’s going to give it to you over and over again. | This is so hot that I highly recommend not reading this anywhere out in public. The smut in this is just *chefs kiss*
(Mini) Series:
Miracle Pt. 2 🥀 Pt. 1 by @heavenhatesme » Soft!Dark!Bucky Barnes x Reader; Soft!Dark!Steve Rogers x Reader — When infertility threatens mankind with extinction and there hasn’t been a baby for almost 18 years, what happens when two certain super soldiers fall for the same woman and accidentally impregnate her? | It’s not tagged as dark, sorry to the writer I tagged it that please forgive me? But I just want to tell everyone heed the tags. I do look forward to reading what happens next. The smut in this is great!
Invisible Ink by @navybrat817 » Bucky Barnes x Reader, Steve Rogers x Reader; Bucky Barnes x Reader x Steve Rogers — The owners of the Howling Commandos Tattoo Parlor want to make you their best girl. | I love the idea of tattoo’d Bucky and Steve, but that's because I have a weakness for tattoo’s. So this series is just right up my alley, and the start of it is so good that I know it’s good to be a great one!
Steve Rogers
Drabbles:
Chocolate Milk & Dino Nuggets by @nony-bear » Steve Rogers x Reader — Daddy Steve helps make his little girl feel better after a long week. DDLG THEMES | Had me wishing I had a Steve to make me Dino nuggets after a long day at work. It’s precious folks.
Prompt 4K Drabble Challenge by @sweeterthanthis » Steve Rogers x Reader — “Show me how deep you can take it.” | You’re going to need an ice cold bath after this one.
One-Shots:
A Cruel Tide by @writerwrites » Nomad!Steve Rogers x Reader — A lost hero thinks she needs saving, but this divorcée’s needs were different, fleeting, and then full of attachment. Can they overcome the burdens on their shoulders and keep their word? | Sometimes you want to wrap the reader and Steve in a blanket and protect them while enjoying the smut. This gave me that and more.
Untitled Request by @navybrat817 » Steve Rogers x Reader — Sending Steve a naughty photo while he’s in a meeting leads to punishment that will remind you to never do it again, right? | Hi, I’m just going to drench myself in ice cold water. ✌🏻
(Mini) Series:
*Control Pt. 3 🔐 Pt. 1 🔐 Pt. 2 by @river-soul » dark!Steve Rogers x Reader — When a probationary agent asks you out on a date you learn Steve’s intentions for you have evolved. He doesn’t take kindly to someone touching what’s his. [Noncon, physical violence (biting), grooming behavior and explicit sex, 18+] | Definitely one of my favorite series to read on Tumblr so far, you know it’s dark, and the smut is great. I always look forward to the updates on this one.
*Lipstick and Crayons 🖍 Ch. 4 by @oneoftheprettynerds » Dark Mob!Steve Rogers x Reader — Steve can’t ever repay you for what you did. After meeting you, Steve believes his broken family is the missing piece in the puzzle of your own wrecked one. Indebting the crime lord to you has been the biggest mistake of your life, cause now you can’t get rid of him, no matter what. Loyalty and favours go a long way in the mob. | This story always gets my heart a racing and leaves you with questions as to what is going to happen next. I truly love it and Soft!Dad while being Angry!Mob boss Steve all at the same time, this story just has it all for me.
This Is My Unbecoming by @river-soul » Werewolf!Steve Rogers x Witch!Reader — When the Hydra pack graduates from turning humans to swell their ranks to kidnapping and murdering witches to consolidate power, Steve knows he needs to strike. He makes a deal with a powerful coven leader for a witch of his own in exchange for destroying the rogue pack. [Magical realism, biting, blood, slightly dubious consent and explicit sex, 18+] | Okay this is so good and I would like to thank the teenage mind of @river-soul for creating this! Like seriously thank you. I look forward to reading more!
It’s been a long, long time ☕️ Ch.1 by @mostly-marvel-musings » Steve Rogers x Reader — Steve Rogers – a man who has lost too much finds himself blending into the crowd in attempts to forget his past but revisits familiar places and spends days sketching his heart out. A rainy evening leads him to find shelter in your coffee shop. Is having meaningful conversations over endless cups of coffee with a stranger the key to unlocking a heart that’s lost the will to love? | The prologue tore my heart out, it truly did but the first chapter just puts the pieces back together. I really love this and I’m honestly looking forward to reading what happens next. I can’t thank you enough for entering my writing challenge!
*Not A Team Part: 1 by @shedobewritingalittle » Steve Rogers x Reader — The Reader tries to live a normal life, but her memories won’t leave her alone. Rhodey comes to visit the reader with a proposition. | There aren't a lot of stories out there that have walk on parts with Rhodey in it and I didn’t know how much I missed out on having him in stories till I read this. This was just so well written and the characterization of Rhodey was perfect, how Peyton got the emotions written across, it’s perfect. Read this and have some tissues on hand. I will always love it.
Andy Barber
One-Shots:
Closing Arguments by @river-soul » Andy Barber x Reader — Andy and you are going out for the first time since your daughter’s birth. Anxious about leaving her behind Andy does his best to make you feel better. [Fluff with explicit sex (f recieving), 18+] | So fluffy and sweet!
Keep the Heat by @ozarkthedog » Andy Barber x Reader — Andy fucks you in the coat. | Semi-Short and the smut is oh so good.
(Mini) Series:
Homebound 🏡 Ch. 1 by @fuel-joy » Dark!Andy Barber x Reader — You witness your neighbor kill his wife. You try to gather evidence all from the comfort of your home. | Prepare to be at the edge of your seat with this one, it’s just that good.
One Night by @darkficsyouneveraskedfor » Dark!Andy Barber x Reader — One night changes your entire life. | This is dark and exciting, with tons of angst in it. I love a real good dark!Andy fic and this is it.
Chris Evans
One-Shots:
Mirrors by @cherrychris » Chris Evans x Reader — “wanna know what i see? me owning you and this sweet little pussy” | Sometimes you read things that just blow your mind and this was one of those things.
*Work Party by @harrylovex » Chris Evans x Reader — you get drunk at a work party and chris looks after you… | This is really adorable and probably one of my favorite fluffy Chris Evans one-shots I’ve ever read.
Misc.
One-Shots:
An Act of Kindness by @stargazingfangirl18 » Jake Jensen x Female!Reader — A simple act of kindness seals your fate. | I would like to simply start of by saying that this was my first Jake Jensen fanfiction in years, or maybe my first one, and all I could was where have I been hiding from him? So good and glad I read this and so will you!
*Come Back Safe by @celestialbarnes » Sam Wilson x Reader — based on tfatws, you find out sam’s leaving for a mission, afraid to lose the man you love, you confront him, and he promises you to come back. | So fluffy you’ll want to cuddle it under a blanket fort and wish under a thousand starry night skies for it to come true.
(Mini) Series:
Fiery Friends Pt. 3 🔥 Pt. 4 by @wanderinglunarnights » Johnny Storm x OFC!Sophia Jones — Johnny invites his best friend Sophia to stay with him in his penthouse during quarantine. | I really like this story, because I find myself mentally rooting for Sophia and Johnny, also going you go girl. Looking forward to what is next for this duo.
Ensnared Pt. 2 🔗 Pt. 1 by @stargazingfangirl18 » Ransom Drysdale x Female!Reader; minor Robert Pronge (Mr. Freezy) x Reader — Robert preps you for the handoff to the smooth talking stranger who bought you, but before he lets you go, he wants to have a little fun first. | So good and hot. Honestly I look forward to hopefully finding out what happens between the reader and Ransom.
Made With Love by @ayybtch » Wanda Maximoff x f!Reader + Friends to Lovers — Wanda is an excellent cook but a terrible baker. A rough day leads her to the bakery in the Avengers compound where she meets you, the lead baker. After a dismal attempt at making chocolate chip cookies, you volunteer to help Wanda learn how to bake. Your friendship grows stronger with each successful recipe until the two of you stumble into something even sweeter than baked goods. | This story will constantly have you smiling, sure it’s only 3 chapters so far, but I started off reading it in a bad mood but by the 3rd chapter I was just so sappy and happy. I can’t wait for more!
Without Me by CuttingMyFingersOff » Legolas x OFC!Braigeth — Braigeth was an elf who has nothing but memories of Legolas to help her survive being imprisoned in the walls of Orthanc. That is, until she is able to escape and reunite with him. | I’ve been invested in this since my friend came forward to me with the idea for this story and now that it’s being written, I couldn’t be more excited to read it. I need more Lord of the Rings in my life if I’m being honest.
Forever and Ever More by @syntheticavenger » Dark Alpha!Ransom Drysdale x Omega!Reader — Ransom Drysdale may be Boston’s most eligible Alpha but he has his eyes set on you. With his inheritance hanging in the balance, he won’t take no for an answer, whether you like him or not. | Prepared to go on a Hawaiian EMOTIONAL roller coaster with this story, there are so many times in this story you find yourself picking your jaw up off the floor. I’ve linked you to chapter 9, which has all the previous chapters, listed.
Is A Shout Out To My...
@bluemusickid in celebration of 700 followers is hosting a Holi Celebration Writing Challenge, that is due April 30th, but extension can be given. Any Marvel or MCU characters can be used in addition to Chris Evans and his characters. The theme is Holi and its colors, for better explanation visit the link provided.
@whisperlullaby in celebration of 700 followers is hosting a 700 Followers Challenge, your entries will be due May 5th. The theme is kinks, no RPF, DDLG/MMLG, bathroom related , incest, or under age kinks. This is MCU characters, Sebastian Stan, and Chris Evans characters x OFC or Reader. For more information visit the link provided. Congrats Becca on the 700 followers you deserve it hun!
@stargazingfangirl18 in celebration of 5K followers is hosting a Soft Dark Writing Challenge, which is due May 31st. Don’t let the name fool you, your writing can be soft, dark, or soft!dark, or headcanons about any Chris character. 500 word minimum with no max, but new or be read as a stand alone piece. For more information visit the link provided and be sure to congratulate Siri on her 5K milestone!
@cloudystevie in celebration of 4K followers is hosting a Mob!AU Writing Challenge, that is due on May 30th. You can use Chris Evans and any of his characters he’s played before, as well as make it NSFW or SFW. To learn more about it please visit the link below. Also congratulations Jasmeen on the 4K followers! 💗
#fanfiction recommendations#VelvetCardiganBucky#bucky barnes#steve rogers#bucky barnes x reader#steve rogers x reader#ktk fic rec#ktk rec ‘21#mob!steve rogers x reader#mob!bucky barnes x reader#ktk rec#andy barber x reader#andy barber#chris evans x reader#writing challenge#alpha!bucky barnes x omega!reader#nomad!steve rogers x reader#wanda maximoff x reader#wanda maximoff#biker!bucky barnes#biker!bucky barnes x reader#johnny storm#johnny storm x original character#lee bodecker x reader#lee bodecker#mob!bucky barnes x ofc#dark!steve rogers x reader#dark!stever rogers#legolas x ofc#legolas
654 notes
·
View notes
Note
Brettsey + 16 please!!
#16 "Are you seriously giving me the silent treatment?"
When Matt told Sylvie they were invited to spend the weekend at Benny's cabin with Stella and Kelly, she envisioned a quiet, relaxing weekend. She didn't think it would take too much convincing for Matt to spend their time away massaging her aching back or rubbing her swollen feet. This could quite possibly be their last weekend before she gives birth to their second child, and they become a family of four. She wants to take full advantage of that.
Though, it's quickly turning out to be anything but relaxing.
First, the drive to the cabin with two three-year-olds had not been pleasant. The second they dropped out of cell phone range, and Daniel Tiger stopped playing on Sylvie's phone, all hell broke loose, and it was non stop tantrums from both kids until they arrived at their destination.
Then once they arrived and were settled, Matt and Kelly announced their plan to take Esme and Ellie fishing the following day. Sylvie knew it would not end well.
Though their husbands insisted it would be fine. They'd spend the day on the lake, in the small boat Kelly kept at the cabin, teach the girls to fish, and it would be fun.
Stella and Sylvie knew different.
As they're getting ready to leave, Matt asks Sylvie one last time if she's sure she doesn't want to come with them. And Sylvie just raises a brow at him, looks down at what she's wearing; one of Matt's oversized shirts, sweats, and a pair of fuzzy socks. Practically her uniform since starting maternity leave. It's comfortable, but it doesn't exactly give off wanting to spend a day on the lake vibes.
Because spending the next six hours on an already cramped boat with two toddlers while she's eight months pregnant does not sound like her idea of a good time.
Sylvie doesn't tell him that, though, doesn't want to ruin his visions of this perfect day he thinks he has planned with their daughter. While she's planning how best to deal with the inevitable fallout. So she just shakes her head and tells them to have fun as she kisses them goodbye.
Matt presses a kiss to her stomach, murmurs something she can't hear to the baby, and the baby tumbles in her belly. His eyes go wide, and he laughs, has this look of complete awe on his face. The same look he always gets, no matter how many times he feels their baby move. Esme mimics Matt, kisses her stomach, and then they're out the door.
After saying her goodbyes to her husband and daughter, Sylvie settles into the chair beside the fire and picks up the book she's reading. This is her plan for the weekend, to put her swollen feet up and do absolutely nothing.
Stella offers to keep her company, acts like it's such a chore in front of Kelly, having to stay with the pregnant woman instead of spending the day with her husband and daughter. Sylvie snickers though and rolls her eyes at her friend when Stella flops down onto the couch before the door to the cabin is even closed.
"I give it three hours before it all goes to hell," Stella says.
Sylvie snorts, not looking up from her book. "They aren't even going to make it to two."
"I'm willing to take that bet. Four weeks of Saturday night babysitting, no questions asked?"
"Deal."
They shake on it before settling into a comfortable silence.
Their peace and quiet is short lived. About two hours after the little fishing expedition started, the door to the cabin slams open, and in stamps Sylvie's furious three-year-old, followed by her very irate husband.
Esme throws her coat onto the ground and flings herself into Sylvie's arms, buries her face in her neck. Sylvie resists the urge to tell her husband she told him so. Sylvie's not sure what happened, but when Esme gets in a mood like this, she knows whatever it is, their child is not going to bend easily.
Severide follows behind Matt, a sleeping Ellie in his arms. Sylvie and Stella share a look.
So it went well all around then.
Stella sits up, makes room for Kelly to sit beside her. "How long did that take?" she asks, nodding at the sleeping toddler in his arms.
He chuckles and pats Ellie's back. "Took all of twenty minutes for the boat to rock her to sleep."
Sylvie runs a gentle hand through her daughter's hair, runs circles over the girl's back. "Oh, Ez. What happened?" she asks.
"Daddy yelled at me. He's not my best friend anymore!" Ez cries against her shoulder. In her little three-year-old mind, her daddy no longer being her best friend is the worst possible insult she can think of.
Sylvie's eyes flicker over to Matt, and she can tell their daughter's words landed and had their intended effect on him. She sees a flash of hurt in his eyes as he looks at Esme before it's replaced with irritation again.
She gives her husband a quizzical look. He's frustrated with whatever happened, but it's unlike him to lose his cool with Esme. He rarely raises his voice with her. Sylvie knows he worries that he'll lose control of his anger like his own father. And even with her assurances that it won't happen, he always makes a conscious effort to treat Esme with tenderness, even when she's in trouble.
"What happened?" she asks again, directs the question at Matt this time.
He sighs, pinches the bridge of his nose before pushing his hand through his hair. "Ez threw the rod into the lake," he growls, throws his hands in the air like he still doesn't believe it. "She announced she was done, and then she tossed it overboard!"
Sylvie has to bite her bottom lip to keep from laughing. Cause, yeah, that is definitely something she can see Ez doing.
Severide nods in her direction, clearly just as entertained by the whole thing as she is. "I got it on video."
"Thank you," she mouths at him over the top of Esme's head, and Stella snorts. Kelly already has his phone out of his pocket, holding it out to his wife before she even has a chance to ask, knowing exactly what she wants. Sylvie needs to get him to send her that video right now.
"It was a brand new rod, Sylvie," Matt exclaims.
"And it was a sparkly purple kids rod that cost $40. She was probably only going to use it the once anyway. It's not going to break the bank, Matt. That's not what this is really about, is it?" She holds her hand out to him, gestures for him to come to her. Because she's got Ez in her lap, and she's eight months pregnant. She is not getting out of this chair if she doesn't have to.
He crosses the room, sits on the arm of the chair. Just like she knew he would. Sylvie slides her fingers into his hair, uses her nails to massage his scalp. She knows he was excited for today and that he's disappointed Ez didn't like fishing as much as he thought she would.
She sees his shoulders relax, and Matt leans his head into Sylvie's hand. "I just wanted today to go differently, that's all." Sylvie nods. There it is.
"I know you did," she says, places her hand on his back. "But, babe, Ez is three. She can barely sit through an episode of Paw Patrol without getting bored. Don't you think that you might have had unrealistic expectations of what she's capable of today?"
He presses a kiss into her hair, and she doesn't need to look at him or even hear him say it to know that the gesture is his way of admitting she's right. He moves to the other side of the chair, crouches down beside Esme's face, caresses her little cheek with his thumb.
"I'm sorry I raised my voice at you, Ez."
Esme whines then, shrugs Matt's hand off her cheek. She turns her head away from him, tries to burrow herself further into Sylvie, as much as her pregnant belly will allow anyway.
"Aww, come on, Ez Pez." Matt lets out a low chuckle, pokes her shoulder. "Are you seriously giving me the silent treatment?" She nods against Sylvie's chest.
While Sylvie often finds herself thinking their daughter got the best of both her and Matt's personalities, it's times like this when she realizes they also passed on some of their worse qualities. Esme's tendency to be a little obstinate - okay, a lot - she gets from Matt (no matter what he says). The flair for the dramatics comes from Sylvie.
Sylvie brushes Ez's hair off her face. "Daddy can be silly sometimes, huh?" she whispers in her ear, and Esme nods. "Do you think maybe you should accept his apology?"
She scrunches up her face, looks over at Matt, and then back to Sylvie. "Do I have to?" she mumbles defiantly. Sylvie laughs, kisses her daughter's forehead, and reminds her to be kind.
"Do you think I can make it up to you?" Matt asks, and Esme just shrugs her little shoulders.
Matt pouts, and Sylvie can't help but roll her eyes at him. It's clear he's getting a little desperate when their daughter won't budge. Ez has always been such a daddy's girl that he doesn't know what to do with himself when she's angry at him and he's not the favorite. He hates it, and he's not against using bribery to win back their daughter's affection.
He tries again, gives it one last ditch effort to get her to forgive him. If this doesn't work, nothing will, and he'll just have to wait until Esme forgets about it. That usually takes a couple of hours, always filled with Matt's sulking, and then everything goes back to normal.
"Hey, Ez, what do you say we go for a drive into town? We can get some ice cream," he tries eagerly. Then, in an instant, Esme launches herself out of Sylvie's lap into Matt's arms. His arms fly up, wrap around her waist to catch her.
It's comical, really, just how fast she forgets that she's trying to stay mad at him.
"Can I get a really big one?" Esme asks, throwing her arms wide.
"Oh, I don't know about that," Matt says teasingly.
"Please, Daddy. Please," she begs, drags the words out in a long whiny way. She clasps her hands together under her chin and bats her eyes at him. She learned that from Sylvie.
"Okay, but don't tell mama," he whispers conspiratorially, winks at Sylvie over Esme's shoulder.
"If you're going out, could you bring me back some Oreos?" Sylvie asks, flashes him a bright smile.
Matt smiles back at her and places his hand on her stomach. "Baby craving?" Sylvie nods, covers his hand with her own. "What's the feel for today?"
Sylvie thinks for a moment before answering, "Boy."
"Nah, definitely another girl," Matt says. "What do you think, Ezzy? You're the tiebreaker. Are you getting a brother or a sister?"
"Sister!" she answers from Matt's arms.
"See, you're outnumbered. Definitely a girl."
Sylvie laughs and shakes her head. "If only it worked that way. Besides, that doesn't count!"
"Why?" Matt protests. "Just because Ez sides with me?"
"No, because last week she wanted the baby to be a puppy."
Matt laughs out loud at that. "Wouldn't that be something!"
Esme starts to get impatient, and she fidgets in Matt's arms. "Daddy, can we get ice cream now?"
Ellie lifts her head and chirps from Severide's lap, "I want ice cream."
"That you wake up for?" Severide gives Ellie an incredulous look, tickles her sides until she laughs. "Guess we're tagging along then."
"Matt?" Sylvie calls, just as he's almost out the door again. He turns back to look at her. "Can you get some pickles too? The round ones already cut for sandwiches?"
He makes a face like he knows what she's planning to do with the pickles and the Oreos. "If I have to watch you eat that, I'm going to be sick," he deadpans. He's guessed correctly.
"Don't watch then," she says, as if it's the most obvious answer, and she laughs at the disgusted look he sends her way.
#brettsey#sylvie brett#matt casey#brett x casey#technically set in the same universe as ASOW#but it should still work if you haven't read it#for someone who doesn't have kids#and has ZERO desire to have any of my own#i sure do include them in my fics a lot
47 notes
·
View notes
Text
The Hyodos | Juza Hyodo
Anon says: May I please have Family with Juza? Like, maybe Juza is introducing his s/o to his family or something cute like that? Merry Christmas, by the way!! 💖💖💖
Aimee replies: Thank you so much for your patience, anon! Of course you may! But since I only finished this approximately 8 months before Christmas time again, I wish you a very advanced merry Christmas!
Anyway, I really enjoyed making this fic despite revising it a lot of times. Hopefully, you guys will enjoy reading it too! Btw, the story takes place before Act 2 so Kumon’s not in the MANKAI dorm yet.
For ‘A December With You’ writing event.
You tightly gripped the basket as you stared at the house before you. It was a simple modern Japanese house, but it was not just “someone’s” residence. That place was where your boyfriend and his family lived! You have no clue on what your boyfriend’s family was like. Were they the interrogating type as if you were a criminal for dating their son? Were they the demanding family who required a fifty-page report on why you loved your boyfriend? Or were they the doting kind wherein they would already plan for their son’s wedding?
You stiffened as something warm enveloped your trembling hand. However, your shoulders quickly relaxed when you saw a familiar large hand wrapped around yours.
“What’s wrong?” Your boyfriend asked. Besides the blush that painted his cheeks, you noticed the concern behind his golden eyes.
Coming up with a bunch of descriptions for his family was too embarrassing to admit. Hence, you said, “It’s just... I’m really nervous.”
“Just be yourself.” Juza squeezed your hand.
You looked down on the ground. “But what if they still won’t like me?”
The chilling breeze nor the honking of the cars were unable to distract you from this unnerving silence. You shuffled your feet. You knew it was a difficult question for your boyfriend. After all, Juza highly valued his family’s opinions. He always considered their thoughts in all of his endeavors.
And you understood that you were one of those endeavors.
You were snapped out of your trance when you felt Juza’s hand on your head. You looked up to see his tender smile, making your heart pound.
“’m sure my family will like you ‘cause… I really like you,” your boyfriend quietly but firmly said.
A soft smile made its way on your lips. No matter how irrational his reasoning was, you felt assured. Perhaps it was because of his sincerity and Juza’s faith in you, himself, and his family.
Before you could reply, the door suddenly slammed open. “Ah! Nii-chan, you’re already here!”
The younger boy jumped on your boyfriend and hugged him. Juza almost toppled on the ground if not for his fast reflexes. As he quickly wrapped his arms around his younger brother, Juza let out an exasperated sigh. “Kumon, that’s dangerous, you know?”
Kumon giggled. “I just missed you so much, nii-chan!”
Then your gaze met with the younger boy. Unwrapping his arms from his older brother, he curiously stared at you. “Nii-chan, is she your girlfriend?”
Juza nodded. “Her name’s (First Name) (Last Name).”
You held your basket with one hand while you stuck out your other hand to the young boy. “H-hello! Nice to meet you.”
As he accepted your handshake, the young boy grinned at you. It was so bright that it rivaled the sun itself. “Hello! My name is Kumon Hyodo. Thank you for always taking care of nii-chan!”
You shook your head. “I am always in Juza’s care. Thank you for having a great nii-chan.”
Kumon’s eyes sparkled. “Nii-chan’s so great, right? One time, there was a robber in a convenience store. And…!”
As Kumon continued to ramble on, you smiled. You could see why Juza said before that everyone loved him. His presence was warm and comforting. It was also cute to see Kumon fanboying about his brother. With that, you understood why your boyfriend had this fond look whenever he talked about his younger brother.
Juza suddenly patted his younger brother’s head, momentarily distracting him. “Kumon, go help mom and dad set up the table first.”
Kumon’s eyes widened. “Oh! You’re right!”
You waved your hand. “You can continue telling me about your nii-chan later, okay?”
Kumon happily nodded before quickly entering the dining room. Then Juza scratched his head. “Sorry ‘bout that.”
You chuckled. “It’s alright. I find it touching that your baby bro loves you so much.” Your laughter increased when Juza's cheeks became a dark shade of red.
After calming each other down, the two of you removed your shoes. Juza let you enter first, closing the door when he set foot in the living room.
“Excuse me for the intrusion,” you said.
As your boyfriend led you to the dining room, a woman in her mid-forties stopped chopping some fruits and turned to you. Her wrinkles were noticeable but her grin stood out the most. Now you knew where Kumon had gotten his sunny smile.
“Hello, (First Name)-chan! We’ve been waiting for you.”
You bowed at Mrs. Hyodo and presented your basket. “Thank you for having me, Hyodo-san. Please accept this as an advanced Christmas gift.”
Mrs. Hyodo gasped at the bottles that filled the basket. “Thank you so much for the condiments! I will gratefully use them in my cooking."
You grinned. "You're welcome, Hyodo-san." Mr. Hyodo, who was standing beside his wife, peeked at the basket. Without a word, he slowly took it and placed it on one of the shelves.
As Juza sat on the chair nearest to him, you chose to sit beside him. You gaped at the food on the table - salad, miso soup, braised pork belly, wagashi and even a Christmas cake. All of them looked like a three-star Michelin chef cooked them.
Your eyes widened when you saw Kumon placing a plate of (Favorite Dish) on the table. You shot a questioning glance at your boyfriend. Juza rubbed the back of his nape as he said, “I asked mom if she could cook your fav food.”
"Nii-chan even chose the ingredients for it!" Kumon proudly declared as he sat beside his beloved brother.
“It was so sweet of Juza!" Mrs. Hyodo squealed as she set down the plate with fruits beside the salad. Then she sat down on the chair across from you, Mr. Hyodo following suit.
All of you clasped your hands. "Thank you for the food!"
While you wanted to savor Mrs. Hyodo's cooking, you could barely focus on eating. Mr. Hyodo's eyes scrutinized your every move like surveillance cameras. As an attempted distraction, you chatted with Mrs. Hyodo. However, Mr. Hyodo's gaze was too intense to ignore.
It was when you were drinking water to cool your nerves off that Mr. Hyodo suddenly spoke, “(First Name) (Last Name), what do you see in my son?”
You choked on your water. Juza rubbed your back, his worried eyes looking at you.
"(First Name)-san, are you alright?" Kumon said. You nodded despite almost dying because your air supply was momentarily cut off.
Mrs. Hyodo sighed at her husband. "Dear, don't go asking such questions so suddenly."
Mr. Hyodo averted his eyes from you and mumbled 'sorry.' You shook your head. “It's fine, Hyodo-san. And to answer your question..."
Two words immediately popped into your head when you thought of your boyfriend. Without any hesitation, you said, “I see Juza’s his passion and dedication in everything he does, especially in acting.”
Kumon's head popped into your view. “Then (First Name)-san, have you watched ‘Picaresque’?”
“Of course! Closing night was amazing! Actually, every performance Juza’s in is really good.” You beamed at your boyfriend who suddenly had the urge to chug down a glass of water.
“Yeah! But I really want to see Nii-chan as Luciano again.” You chuckled as you saw the familiar sparkles in Kumon’s eyes.
Mr. Hyodo cleared his throat. “I have another question for you, (First Name)-san.”
Cold sweats formed on your forehead as Mr. Hyodo’s (golden) gaze at you defeated the freezing air outside. With a deep and threatening voice, he said, “Do you like sweets?”
You slowly blinked. Did your ears hear Mr. Hyodo's words right?
Seeing your frozen state, Juza sighed at his father. “Dad, that’s unnecessary...”
After recovering from your initial shock, you managed to reply, “Well, I’m willing to eat sweets if it’s with Juza."
“If that’s so, I can bake some for your dates!” Mrs. Hyodo giggled, making the younger couple blush.
Meanwhile, Mr. Hyodo put his interlocked hands beneath his chin as he intently stared at his son. Juza stopped eating his cake and looked up. When he locked eyes with his father, Juza stared back at him with the same fervor.
In the middle of the fierce staring contest, Mr. Hyodo gave a thumbs up with the same serious expression. “I approve of her.”
You were unaware of how much you held back from breathing until you let out a deep sigh. Then your lips curled upwards. Meeting with the Hyodo family wasn’t as bad as you previously thought.
#a3!#a3! game#a3! act! addict! actors!#a3! x reader#juza hyodo#juza hyodo x reader#kumon hyodo#a3! imagines#a3! scenarios#A December with You#aimee writes
68 notes
·
View notes
Text
Heaven is you
This was an idea i had for Rayla's birthday and the outline seemed too wholesome to not do it lol. It has family feels and rayllum being soft as always. Read it on ao3.
Summary: Rayla always remembers her past birthdays with fondness. But this one in particular has brought her an abundant amount of joy, filling her heart with the purest of loves.
Or a recollection of Rayla’s birthdays through the years.
i.
Rayla always remembers her past birthdays with fondness.
She recalls being four and waking up to her mum’s soft voice in her ear, a happy birthday, my love being lovingly murmured in the air. She would pretend that she was asleep, cracking one eye open from time to time and doing her best to contain in her laughter as her mother would start to rub her hair soothingly to wake her up. But she would burst into a fit of giggles before her mum could say anything else — even though Rayla is pretty sure she saw past her flimsy excuse of a stoic facade — and her mother would start to laugh alongside her, tickling her belly and asking her when has her little moonbeam gotten this sneaky.
She hadn’t, obviously.
She’d scoop her in her arms and they would go downstairs where her dad would be cooking her favorite breakfast — he’d always go all out when it was her birthday. And he’d see them still laughing as they approached, he’d see them — his two favorite people ever — and he’d come up to them, lifting her in his arms and making her laugh, telling her that today she chose what they would do because today was all hers. Because he’d move earth and sky for his tiny warrior.
And she remembers the glimmer in her mum’s eyes, her father’s beaming smile, her own expression mirroring theirs; she remembers feeling loved, safe, and content.
ii.
Rayla recalls being eleven and coming back after nearly an entire day of training to a cake on the dining table, a sole candle lit on its center, and a neatly folded paper resting beside it. It was rather late, her whole body ached as the practice had been a vigorous one, but upon seeing the homemade gateau she no longer felt the ever consuming exhaustion. No, she felt lighter, more at ease.
Ethari had been sporting the warmest of smiles, his eyes showing every bit of love towards his foster daughter who they had come to care for as their own. Runaan had walked over to where his husband was and stood right next to him, somehow matching his emotion almost instantly — he had been sort of tense before leaving the meadow — and they had wished her the happiest of birthdays, holding her tightly in their embrace, muttering words of comfort and pride and love.
She remembers thinking that there was still a void in her heart as the aftermath of her parents’ absence, but being there surrounded by her two guardians that loved her an abundant amount and whom she loved as much in return, that showed her day after day their support and their care was enough to bring her solace.
She had felt love all the same.
And she always looked forward to reading her parents’ letter at the end of the end. The words were like a warm hug from afar. She became misty-eyed and held the letter close to her heart for hours as if she was keeping her parents in a safe place near her heart.
iii.
She recalls being sixteen and sitting alone in the Xadian forest. She had been wounded and restless, tired and alone. Everywhere and everything hurt, but ironically she had felt numb from head to toe. Somewhere in the back of her mind she vaguely remembered what that day was supposed to be.
And the bittersweet afterthought made matters worse because then the pang in her chest was just a little too hard to ignore.
Rayla had felt cold and empty, being alone with her thoughts was as harmful as it sounded and the unbecoming urge to cry was getting hard to suppress. But she ended up shedding tears, letting them fall freely as they have been welling up and contained in since much too long ago.
It was her birthday, and she had tried to forget it, making herself not feel, perhaps then the pain would subdue.
It hadn’t.
iv.
It was her birthday and she couldn’t get the royal physician’s words out of her head. They were spinning, echoing, repeating themselves. And she felt equal amounts of excitement and trepidation all at once.
Congratulations Your Highness, you’re with child.
They have been trying, of course, they have, so the news shouldn’t be such a surprise to hear that their efforts had actually turned out fructiferous. But they have, and she didn’t know how to assimilate them without cutting the appointment short and leaving a very confused physician behind, one who was patiently waiting for a reaction out of her.
Because she was excited and elated and so beyond happy that it was taking a lot of willpower to remain seated and not run off to find Callum.
“Your Highness? Is everything all right?”
She blinked, “Of course.” Rayla offered them a smile. How could it not be, honestly?
And after a couple of recommendations and how they’d like to see her in the span of a few weeks — after all, the babe was still a halfling and the pregnancy was to be monitored constantly for that matter — they bid her goodbye with another well-meaning congratulation on the way.
Rayla couldn’t help the fast pace in which she was walking nor the beaming smile from breaking out.
“Oh, there you are! I’ve been looking nonstop for you. What did the physician say?” She heard Callum’s voice round the corner; the worried tone of her husband of three years was enough to make her smile deepened because he was just the sweetest person ever and she just knows that he’s going to be the best father out there.
And the mere thought was enough to make her heart burst with adoration.
He took a couple of steps forward and placed one hand on her cheek, gently rubbing his thumb back and forth, “Are you all right?”
“I’m pregnant.”
The words left her mouth before she had time to catch herself, before she had any time to dwell on how to tell him, but after they were out, she knows that there was no better way, no better time. Because seeing those expressive, loving eyes widen in realization, going through every emotion in the span of a second, how his hand stilled its movement on her cheek and how she heard his breath catch in his throat was as heartwarming as if she’d had outlined a grander plan in advance to break the big news to him.
“Really?” He whispered, barely audible.
She hummed.
“You are pregnant?”
She hummed again.
“There’ll be a tiny, perfect mix of the both of us in a couple of months?”
Rayla nodded unable to keep the grin off her face, her arms coming upwards to lace them loosely around his neck and raising herself on her tiptoes to breath small kisses across his cheek — damn those two inches he had gained on her. Their chests were pressed together, and she felt the deep rumble in his chest that soon turned into a peal of boisterous laughter that surely could be heard through the entire hallway. The sound was too contagious to not let out one of her own.
His arms came to encircle her waist, engulfing her in a tight hug, both of them shaking with laughter and happiness and pure delight.
“We’re having a baby.”
“We are.”
They pulled back slightly, faces inches away from each other’s, noses brushing against one another, breaths mingling in their shared space. She wanted to capture this blissful moment in a picture.
And then his lips slowly curved into a smug grin.
“Don’t.” Rayla raised a single brow, looking pointedly at him because she knew where his mind had headed in a matter of seconds. And because she also remembers rather vividly exactly what he had thought about — it had been a very nice anniversary gift, after all. It had carried the promise of fervent love, a burning passion, and a couple’s desire of at last starting a family.
He let out an amused laugh, “I didn’t even say anything!”
“You didn’t have to, I practically saw you thinking about it!” She rolled her eyes playfully and crossed her arms over her chest, letting out a huff in faux disbelief at her husband’s antics. They locked gazes, grass green meeting amethyst violet, a glimmer in both of them. They couldn’t help the small laugh thereafter.
His eyes softened as the laughter ceased, pulling her closer by the waist and planting one tender kiss on the lips, feeling all the love conveyed in such a small action and trying to reciprocate as much as she was receiving.
“I love you.” She said lovingly when they parted, her hands coming up to cup his jaw in a light grasp.
He brought one hand to his lips, kissing the underside softly, “I adore you.”
Rayla knows that it wouldn’t be easy, parenting — motherhood— never was as the rising self-doubts, the exhaustion of both mind and body, the anxiety of diving into the unknown, and all the possible mistakes that were bound to be made. But, she thinks, as long as they have each other — and everyone else who has been there for that matter — this baby would be raised with abundant love and affection. She'd make sure of it.
It was superfluous to say that this birthday by far had brought her one of her greatest joys. A surprise that couldn’t be topped by any other.
#rayllum#rayllum fic#rayllummonth2021#my writing#rayla#callum#the dragon prince#rayllum fanfic#it's fluff#because i can't write anything else#and they are married#because i say so#there’s also lots of family feels
35 notes
·
View notes
Text
A New Home - (The Irreplaceable Charlie Weasley AU)
Warnings: A realtor ready to be hexed by Charlie
Word count: 3,695
Characters: Charlie Weasley and my OC Nova from TICW which you can find here
Nova
“So then we finally found the hole where Fang was kept and I wanted to investigate, you know, be cautious but your mum here decided to be a Gryffindor for a day and act brave and just jumped down there. I, of course, jumped right after her and I was a bit mad at her because...”
“A bit?” I raised my eyebrow at Charlie.
“Hey, I am telling the story.” Charlie stuck out his tongue at me. “As I was saying, a bit mad at her because I wanted to go first and didn't want to see her get hurt, and then we talked in a totally normal voice that one can't consider shouting...”
“Right.” I giggled at his ridiculous story-telling.
“Love, stop interrupting me.” Charlie glared at me. “Then we heard Fang and we ran to this cave that belonged to a Red Cap and well, we saved the dog!” Charlie threw his hand in the air all proud and hero-like.
“With a few alterations and details missed that's the story, yes.” I chuckled.
I ran my fingers through Charlie's hair who was resting his head on my knees telling our Red Cap adventure story to the baby in my belly. I am five and a half months pregnant now and ever since I started to show, Charlie has been talking and telling the baby stories, looking at it as if it's the most beautiful thing in the world. Sometimes he places gentle kisses on top of my bump and tells the baby that he loves them already and that he can't wait to meet them. He has evenings when I am reading a book and he gets bored and just starts to rub my belly, singing to it.
I find the whole thing adorable and it warms my heart that he is so excited to be a dad. I know that he is a family man and that he always wished to have a family of his own but I have never imagined him to fall into the role of being a dad so quickly.
The voice he used to talk to the baby was the softest I have ever heard him speak in and his exaggerated stories from the Sanctuary were my favorite to listen to. He made himself look like a strong superhero who all the dragons listen to and if I could, I would listen to him talk all the time. Less than 4 months now and we will meet our baby and I can't wait for Charlie to tell them more incredible stories, no matter how much he changes it or how many details he leaves out.
“I have another one!” Charlie exclaimed after a few minutes of him staring at my baby bump, probably daydreaming about holding our child.
“Char!” I giggled.
“Shh, love. I'm in my story mode.” He sluggishly made his way to me and pressed a tender kiss on my lips.
“So, let me tell you the story of how your mum and dad met.” Charlie went back to resting his head on my knees.
“Didn't you tell this one already?” I teased.
“No.” He shook his head. “Not in the way I am about to tell it.”
“Of course, there are variations.” I tried sounding serious, finding his excitement amusing.
“So, by now you probably know that when mum and I were at school I was a bit obsessed with dragons...”
“Was?” I raised my eyebrows again.
“Am...” Charlie playfully rolled his eyes, correcting himself. “Of course, not as obsessed as I am with your mother and with you.” He kissed the spot right under my belly button.
“Okay, where was I? Right, I am a bit obsessed with dragons...”
“A bit?” I pressed my lips together not to start laughing.
“Love, let me tell this story,” Charlie whined.
“Okay, I'm sorry, I'm sorry.” I ruffled his hair and nodded to make him continue.
“So, I was reading this book about dragons and some Slytherins came by to say hello in a bit of a rude way and your mother, amazing as she is, didn't like the way those students were talking to me and she drew out her wand and hexed them all to the ground and the look she was giving them scared them so much that they didn't leave their dormitory for a week!” Charlie gasped dramatically.
“That is not at all what happened.” I laughed wholeheartedly.
“Of course, it did! You're brain just remembers it differently because you're modest.” He smiled gently at me and sent me a wink.
“Your mum is a hero and never let her tell you otherwise, she just doesn't like to praise herself, so that's my job!” I grinned as he said those words, his eyes on my belly.
“And you're doing great and sorry to interrupt you but we have to go.” I cupped his cheek to make him look at me.
“But I was just about to tell them about Helga, the Giant Squid!” Charlie looked disappointed.
“And we would both just love to hear that story but we don't have time. We'll be late to meet the realtor.” I explained.
“That's not in another two hours.” Charlie swung his hand.
“Char, you have been telling stories for those two hours.” I giggled.
Charlie turned around to look at the clock on the wall.
“Blimey, I got a bit carried away again, didn't I?” His cheeks turned scarlet.
“No,” I shook my head, trying to get up, “I love how into your stories you get.”
He offered me his hand to help me stand up. It was already harder for me to get up and I still had so many months to go! I made my way to the bathroom. All I do all day is read baby books, listen to Charlie tell stories, and pee. Pregnancy isn't at all what I expected but not in a bad way – in a way, it's kind of fun.
“Okay, do you have everything?” Charlie asked as I walked down the stairs.
“I have to go pee one more time.” I smiled sheepishly, returning to the bathroom. “Didn't you pee five minutes ago?”
“Don't question the bladder of a pregnant woman, Charles,” I shouted from the bathroom.
“Fair enough.” I heard him giggle, waiting patiently for me to finish.
—
“I think this one will be more to your liking.” The realtor grinned at both of us before turning around and rushing to the building.
“And I think we should change the agent,” Charlie whispered to me looking a bit annoyed.
“One more house, one more chance.” I tried staying optimistic.
Honestly, I was only doing so to stop Charlie from hexing the man who was showing us houses. There are 3 wizard villages around the 3 kilometers radius of the Sanctuary and one Muggle one. We looked at 4 houses so far – one in each – and despite describing to the realtor in advance what we have in mind for our new home, the houses he showed us were nothing that we were hoping to see.
Charlie was getting annoyed, worried about me being on my feet and apparating as much as we did and I was losing all hope that we would be able to find a nice house so close to the Sanctuary. We both don't like to apparate so we wanted a place to live where we could easily walk to the Reserve.
Due to us having quite some money spared and both having a nice salary, Charlie insisted that I stay at home the second I started showing, due to how dangerous our job is. I tried protesting for about five minutes – missing my work due to being home because of morning sickness a lot already – but he didn't want to hear it and with all the years of being together I knew better than to argue with him.
Not that I have anything to complain about. Charlie makes me breakfast every morning before going to work. I mostly read during the time he is working because mum and Penny sent me so many books and the Ravenclaw in me was jumping from excitement. By my 5th month, I was so knowledgeable about babies and giving birth that I don't think I can get more ready. After Charlie comes home we eat dinner together and then we usually cuddle on the couch and tell each other about our day. He either tells the baby stories or we play a game where we try to guess who the baby will resemble more and of course, there's always the question will they like animals and beasts — more specifically dragons.
If I'm having a rough day – where everything irritates me and no matter how I sit or lay down I get uncomfortable – Charlie either massages my feet or my shoulders and brews me mint tea.
Because I was home alone for most of the day and I have a vivid imagination and know how to draw I made some sketches of our dream home. I also researched the villages around the Reserve and tried to get as much information for the realtor for him to have an easier job finding us the right home.
I know how much it means to Charlie that we stay near the Sanctuary and since I felt bad that he was working and I was just sitting at home, I wanted to do my best to make his wish to be near dragons a reality.
What the realtor showed us so far was crushing that. One house was half demolished and we would have to put in a lot of work to get it back in order despite us telling him that we want a completely furnished cottage-like house. The other one was about the size of our home now – which was the main reason we were moving in the first place and we said specifically that we wanted there to be at least three bedrooms as we weren't planning on moving again any time soon and we wanted to have more children.
The third one was empty and Charlie was sure it was haunted and the fourth one didn't have a single piece of wood in it and only a small window in the kitchen.
“Alright, one more and then let me hex him, please.” Charlie made puppy eyes.
“Deal.” I offered him my hand, a playful expression on my face.
“We are here!” The realtor turned to us, the proudest grin on his face.
“Wow.” Charlie and I said together.
“See, I told you you will like this one.”
He unlocked the front gate and rushed to the door of the house, or should I say manor.
“He is mental!” Charlie said through his teeth.
“Calm down, Char. Let's just look around and then get rid of him.” I whispered.
The house he thought so much would be to our liking was nothing like we hoped it would be.
“It has 5 bathrooms, 7 bedrooms, two gardens, and a pool!” The man almost jumped in the air.
“Great.” I forced a smile, looking up the tall ceilings of the dark room, feeling more like in prison than at home.
“I didn't know we apparated from Romania. Is this Azkaban?” Charlie tried lightening the mood, probably when he saw the disappointed expression on my face.
“7 bedrooms, what are we supposed to do with that? It looks nothing like a home and I most definitely can't picture us raising our children here. Imagine them running around and getting lost in their own home. How are we supposed to find them? Shout all around the house? It's not intimate, it's not family-friendly and it's cold!” Charlie's eyebrows came closer together with each sentence, gripping his wand.
“It's so big, I don't even know where that man is so that I could hex him!” He continued.
“Let's just go,” I suggested.
“What?” Charlie turned to me.
“Let's just leave him here. We don't know where he is anyway and before we find him we can already be halfway home if we walk.”
“But...” Charlie tried to protest.
I knew he wanted to shout at the man and probably wasn't joking about hexing him at this point.
“Char, please. I really have to pee and my feet are killing me.” I pleaded, hoping he would let this go.
“Okay.” He sighed. “But I am only doing this for you because you have to pee and I want to massage your feet.”
“Of course.” I nodded and gently entwined our fingers to pull him toward, what I hoped, was the right door to get out of here.
“Charlie, we have to apparate,” I said as we got out of the house after what seemed like 15 minutes spent in this labyrinth.
“No, love. You apparated enough as it is. Remember what the doctor said.” He gave me a warning look.
“But I need to pee and I can't hold it until we come home,” I whined, pressing my legs together.
“Okay, okay.” Charlie pulled me in a hug and started looking around. “There has to be a pub or a restaurant around here where you could go pee.”
“There!” I pointed at a sign that had a plate and a fork on it.
“Go, go, go. Find the bathroom and I'll explain to the staff why we came.” He gently pushed me toward the building.
I tried walking as normally as possible, me having to pee so badly that it hurt while avoiding eye contact with everybody inside the restaurant as I was hoping nobody would stop me. I spotted the bathroom sign at once and rushed inside.
Just as I was ready to head back out, drying my hands in a paper towel, I looked at the mirror and my eyes caught sight of something behind me. I turned around and looked through the bathroom window.
It wasn't just a house. It was a two-story wooden house. It didn't look too big and it had a For Sale sign in front of it!
I hurried out of the bathroom and found Charlie talking to the bartender, telling them why I needed to urgently use the bathroom.
“Thank you.” I smiled at them and pulled Charlie by his sleeve.
“Where's the rush, love? This place looks nice. Let me treat you to lunch. We haven't been on a date for a month.” Charlie bestowed me with one of those smiles that usually weakened my knees but I was so excited now that I couldn't let his charms work on me.
“Maybe later. I have to show you something.” I jumped a little, excitement in my voice.
“What?” Charlie got curious.
“Come with me.”
We exited the restaurant and started up the path to the hill where the house stood.
“Look!” I pointed at it as I finished explaining how I know about it in the first place.
“That looks promising.” Charlie gasped.
We knocked on the door but nobody answered. With one look at each other, we knew we have to see how it is inside. I don't know if it was the excitement in my chest or did I have a good feeling about this.
We knocked again and then tried the door. It was open.
“Just a quick peek and if we like it we go to the agency tomorrow,” Charlie said and I nodded.
It was perfect. It had big windows that let a lot of light in. It was completely furnished with modern yet minimalistic furniture. It had two bathrooms, a master bedroom, and three other rooms – just like we wanted. The kitchen with a big dining table. The living room was spacious with a very cozy sofa and a fireplace – something Charlie was hoping for because it reminds him of the Burrow. The walls were wooden but well isolated and there was even a small guest room on the lower floor.
I watched Charlie walk down the stairs as he finished looking at the upper floor and I couldn't help myself imagining him walking down those stairs every single day. I was ready to tell him that when I felt a weird tickling sensation on the inside of my belly. I narrowed my eyes, not really familiar with the feeling, when it happened again.
Before Charlie could ask me why I was making a weird face, my eyes widened as I realized what just happened.
“Oh, Merlin! Char, come here!” I motioned with my hand.
“What? What is going on? Is everything okay?” His eyes went from mine to my hands on my belly.
“I...I think the baby just kicked!” I exclaimed, moving my hands around to feel anything.
“No way!” Charlie gasped and kneeled before me.
“Yes, twice!”
Charlie didn't know what to do, he was shaking from excitement, looking at my belly as if the baby was about to wave at him.
“It happened again!” I was pretty sure that at this point, my eyes were sparkling.
“Can you feel it?” Charlie asked, hope in his voice.
“Put your hands on it. Maybe you can sense it.” I gestured for him to lift his arms and positioned his hands on my belly the second he did.
“There it was! Did you catch it?” I looked down at Charlie who was staring at my baby bump with his mouth slightly open.
“Char?” I tilted my head, rubbing circles on the back of his hands.
“I...”
“Did you feel it?” I lifted his chin gently so that our eyes met.
The second they did I knew he felt the baby kick because he was on the verge of tears.
“Nova, I felt it. I felt the baby kick!” He stood up so abruptly that I thought he was going to make us both stumble and he squeezed me in the tightest embrace, rocking us back and forth.
“This is a sign.” He whispered in my ear. “The baby likes the house, we have to go to the agency.”
“You want to live here, sweetheart?” I looked down at my belly as Charlie let me go and I felt another kick.
I didn't know if the kick was coincidental or if the baby could understand me, but I didn't care. I looked around one more time and I knew this was it. This was exactly what we were looking for.
“Who are you?”
We both jumped in the air, startled by the voice.
“We...we saw the sale sign and we...we wanted to look around. We...we didn't know anyone lived here.” Charlie stuttered, his cheeks bright red.
“There isn't anyone living here and the house is for sale. I'm the realtor.” The woman carefully took another step forward, offering Charlie her hand.
“Is it still available?” I couldn't hide the hope in my voice.
“It is.” The woman grinned when she saw how excited we were.
She showed us around and told us that the owner who built the house figured that the still life wasn't for him and decided to travel the world instead. She took us to see the garden which was perfect for children to play in. We felt as if we just got the best birthday surprise and without speaking I knew that Charlie already felt at home as much as I did.
However, our smiles were wiped off our faces the second the woman told us the price.
“That is a little bit out of our budget,” Charlie said to me when the realtor left us to discuss her offer.
“A little bit?” I sighed, disappointed.
“We can manage.” Charlie put his hands on my shoulders, making me look at him.
“Char, that's all our savings, and I won't make any money when I'm home with the baby, we can't be that reckless.” I shook my head.
Even though I was in love with the house, I knew we had to think reasonably.
“I'll work extra hours then.” Charlie offered.
“Char, we have to think with our heads here.” I pressed my lips together, to stop my jaw from trembling.
I couldn't stop myself from being so emotional. Of course, it was too good to be true. The house was exactly as we pictured it. I knew it was farfetched that we would get our dream home.
Charlie's brows furrowed when he saw the expression on my face, me obviously failing at hiding my emotions.
“Stay here.” He kissed my forehead and went outside.
I turned around to look at it one more time, to say goodbye to the house we could almost afford. I sighed and turned around to go outside. I stopped, however, when Charlie walked back in with the biggest grin on his face.
“Welcome home, love.” He cupped my face and kissed me hard on the mouth.
“Charles, what did you do?” I wanted to be angry with him so badly.
This was supposed to be a mutual decision and he wasn't thinking clearly, already being in love with this house. But at the same time, I couldn't blame him.
“I played the baby card.” He winked at me, looking proud of himself.
“What?”
“I told her that we can't afford it and asked if there is any way to lower the price a little bit. She asked me why we wanted the house so badly and I told her that we looked at so many today but that the baby kicked for the first time right in the living room and the woman melted when she saw me tear up, lowering the price to our budget!” Charlie jumped in his spot.
“No way!” I breathed. “Saying that I am pregnant, really does wonders!”
“I know!” Charlie lifted me and twirled me around.
“So, this is really our new home?” I asked one more time, the biggest smile on my face, my eyes glistening with tears.
“It's our home.” He kissed me on the nose and then leaned down to press his lips on my belly as well.
“Welcome home, sweetheart.” He said with a shaky voice and rubbed my belly.
#harry potter hogwarts mystery#harry potter fanfiction#hphm charlie#charlie weasley#charlie weasley fanfiction#hogwarts mystery mc#the weasleys#hphm fanfiction#hp imagine#charlie weasley x oc#hphm imagine#charlie weasley imagine#harry potter imagine#weasley fanfiction#the burrow
29 notes
·
View notes
Text
Warnings: unprotected sex (m/f), adultery, divorce, a little fluff, a little angst
Plain Gold Ring Part III
For All We Know
“For all we know
We may never meet again
Before we go
Make this moment live again
We won't say goodbye
Until the last minute
I'll hold out my hand
And my heart will be in it” -Nina Simone
———————————————————
One month. One month before you moved to Chicago. One month until you start your new life. One month for Andy Barber to convince you that you belong together.
The night you retuned was a whirlwind of emotions. In the four days you were gone Andy had moved out and filed for divorce. You didn’t know what happened in that house and you didn’t dare ask. All Andy offered was, “She doesn’t know about you.” That gave you little solace. Made you feel no less guilty. And yet, here he was in your apartment.
He knew her routine and promised they wouldn’t cross paths. Though, it wouldn’t be unheard of if he was at your place considering the mountain of work you had to clear. He could explain it away.
You said no physical contact but you couldn’t help stroking the dented skin on his left ring finger. The little void of lighter skin a spectral reminder of his former life. That was the only conscious touching you did that night.
You kept the conversation light. You spoke about the new firm with an excitement in your voice that even shocked you. He agreed your offer was far too good to pass up. He had been to Chicago a couple of times. It was bitterly cold there for far too long. Though, if all of this worked out, he would just have to get used to it.
It was getting late. Neither of you wanted to say goodbye. “Can I stay the night?” he whispered.
He had no malicious intent whatsoever. He just wanted to be next to you. Your stupid brain was now deferring all decision making to your heart. That bitch was more easily swayed than your pussy. Of course you said yes.
He wanted so badly to hold you against his body and drown in your warmth but he promised. He stayed as far away from you on the bed as possible. In the night, out of habit, your body had made its way to the middle of your California king. And, purely out of habit, Andy draped an arm over your side.
——————————————————————
You let Andy sleep in the next morning. You went to the gym, showered and made breakfast. When he found you in the kitchen he was freshly showered and wearing some well loved pajama pants. The no touching rule did not apply to morning in the kitchen.
He padded in on bare feet unintentionally sneaking up on you. When he kissed the back of your neck you jumped.
“Did I scare you?” he chuckled.
“I’m not used to having someone here.”
He poured himself a cup of coffee and refilled your cup. “I’ll make more noise next time.”
“Did you sleep ok?”
“Very well. Thank you.” Neither of you mentioned that you wound up tangled around each other.
You got out your laptop and set yourself up on the dining table. You tapped away while Andy read the paper. He eyed you suspiciously over a folded corner. “What are you doing over there?
“Working. Between you and Stan I have about 500 emails in my inbox.”
“It’s Saturday.” he said in disbelief. “Who works on a Saturday?”
“A single girl who lives alone and doesn’t participate in home improvement couples projects. Be honest. How many Saturdays have you and Lori spent in Home Depot?”
He really though about it and laughed to himself, “Too many.”
“Fucking suburban breeders.”
“Suburban breeders. Wow.” He continued to read the paper feigning outrage. “We don’t have to go to Home Depot but I would like to do something nice with you today. Although, I did see a few lightbulbs that needed to be changed.”
“That’s what the super is for. I don’t even own a ladder and I’m not about to buy one. Why don’t you find us a movie? It’ll be like a date.”
Andy’s heart fluttered. He hadn’t been on a date in sixteen years. He wanted to get it just right. While you toiled away he planned your evening.
First, he would make you dinner. Keep it simple and light to make way for popcorn and candy. An art house cinema was playing “Anatomy of a Murder” on actual film. It’s arguably one of the best written courtroom dramas ever. After the movie there was a little coffee shop within walking distance. Then, he hoped, it would be back to his new place. He thought if you were at his place and not in your building that it would take your mind off of Lori and Jacob.
It actually warmed his heart that you cared so much for their feelings. He couldn’t help but think you would make a great stepmom for Jacob. He was getting ahead of himself. But it didn’t hurt to daydream.
Andy tried his hardest to be lazy for the day but he was crap at it. He had to occupy himself. He offered you a hand which you readily accepted. It was such a shame you were leaving the firm. The two of you worked so well together. Given your circumstances he would have encouraged you to tender your resignation immediately after being passed over.
While Andy was getting dinner together you popped off to get changed. So far he had only seen you in workout gear and work attire. It would be nice to be a little bit more casual.
When you appeared in the kitchen he let out a sharp whistle in appreciation. “You look beautiful. Since we are on a date is the touching ban still in effect?”
You kissed him tenderly on the lips, “I think we can make an exception.”
“Well in that case…” He placed his hands on either side of your face and gave you a deep panty ruining kiss. “I’ve been wanting to do that for days now.”
You gripped the edge of the counter to catch your breath. “Something smells good.”
His whole face lit up when he told you about the salmon he made. He dipped the tip of his finger in the glaze and held it to your lips. You slowly sucked at the very tip of his finger. “Yum” you said looking up at him through your lashes.
“If you keep that up, baby, we won’t leave this apartment.”
You gave him your most innocent smile, “Sorry, boss. I’ll be a good girl.”
“Fuck. Save that for later. Speaking of later, I thought we could go to my condo tonight. It’s closer to the theater and I’d like to show it to you.”
“Big ol’ thumbs up for me. I’m famished.”
Your date went incredibly well. How could it not? You two were already idiots for each other. You talked for hours and about everything that night. No topic was off limits. You really had a lot in common. You both got into law for similar reasons. Though, you had more altruistic intentions like joining the ACLU as part of their legal team. Now you work for a firm who represents massive corporations. You weren’t proud of the turn you took. That was another reason the Chicago firm was such a great fit for you. They did a little bit of everything but, you would be going after these big corporations instead. He loved your unbridled enthusiasm for your work.
After all the wine was gone and the conversation died the two of you were cuddled on the couch. He rubbed his hands up your arms and massaged your shoulders, “Are you falling asleep on me?” he asked against your ear.
“No. Just relaxed.” He deepened his touch bringing his hands to your décolleté skimming the top swell of your breasts. His hand dipped into the v of your tshirt to make contact with your skin.
“Is this ok?” Lord he’s perfect.
“I declare the no touching ban officially lifted.”
He waisted no time taking full advantage. He massaged your breast under your shirt teasing you over your bra. His other hand held your face to his while he kissed you. You let out a soft moan to which he responded in kind. You turned around to straddle him. He ground his cock into your denim covered cunt to relieve the ache. You went slow savoring the weight of his body. The scruff of his beard. The rough callused fingers that seemed to be everywhere. With Andy, kissing was your favorite thing. The act made your insides liquid and warm.
He broke away to lift your shirt over your head. He sucked your nipple through the thin material of your bra. Your breath hitched in your throat. You ran your fingers through his hair grasping it hard. He undid the fly of your jeans and slipped his hand in. Your juices ran over his fingers while he fucked into you. You met your peak and cried out when you tumbled over the edge.
When he released you, you stood up and undressed. You pulled his shirt over his head. He kissed your belly while you shimmied out of your panties. He kicked off his pants and lowered you onto his dick. The stretch nearly toppled you over but you held on. You pressed your clit into his pelvic bone and he fucked into you hard. He could feel you were close. Your pussy fluttered around him bringing him close to his end. “You ready, baby?” You answered with a whimper. “Cum with me.” With a few final thrusts you both exploded.
There was an imperceptible shift in you that night. You were ready to meet Andy where he was. For the next few weeks, you were going to be his. Entirely and completely his in every conceivable way.
——————————————————————
You didn’t say no when he asked you to spend the night. You spent a lot of nights there. So many that he gently suggested moving in with him until it was time to ship out. His reasons were entirely practical. You were over staying your lease which meant you were paying more a month in rent. Your big stuff and winter clothes were packed and in storage. You were basically down to your bed and a few other essentials. At least you could put everything in storage to make it easier for the moving company. So you guessed now you were living together.
You wished it bothered you more but honestly he was a delightful roommate. He was clean. He cooked. You both had an annoying habit of bringing work home with you. At least you were doing it together. And, it goes without saying, you fucked like horny teenagers. You were adventurous and that thrilled him to his very core.
He had a large terrace looking over the city. That was officially your favorite spot. You were sure your neighbors heard you.
——————————————————————
You only had a week left. You successfully handed off your entire case load. Andy took a few days off to help you get settled in Chicago. You tendered your resignation the week prior.
Stan tried and failed to hold onto you. You let him know your mind was set. The only thing left on your work calendar was the charity event the firm held annually. You were on the board this year. Problem was, no one could know about you and Andy. You had to go alone. Andy was bringing Lori.
Your heart gave up her post as she was no longer emotionally equipped to handle decision making. Your brain was petty as fuck. You gave Andy the silent treatment for a whole day. He had no idea you weren’t speaking until he asked you a third time what you wanted for dinner.
“Y/n, I’m speaking to you. Do you want Thai tonight?” Nothing. You sulked around the kitchen never making eye contact. “I’m sorry are you mad at me?” He grabbed your wrist and forced you to face him. “Being a brat isn’t going to fix this. Look at me and use your words like a big girl.”
“Don’t treat me like a child.” Your voice was low and emotionless. You planted your feet and stared him down.
“Then don’t act like a child. Talk to me.” He smoothed the hair out of your face and rested his hands on your shoulders. “Please. We only have a few more days together. I don’t want to spend them fighting.”
You took a deep breath and blew it out. You didn’t trust yourself not to cry so you just let loose. “If I quit already, why can’t we go together? Further more, if you filed for divorce, why are you taking Lori? Also, you didn’t talk to me. You told me. End of story.”
“I still work there. I don’t want anyone to think you quit because of me. I didn’t tell anyone that Lori and I have split. She agreed to go while you were still in Chicago. I apologize for not talking to you about all of this. I honestly didn’t know how you would react. I wanted our last week together to be happy. I won’t see you for a while. It’s just one night. You can have me forever if you want.”
You softened a little, “But we’ll be all dressed up and dancing and stuff. I know this seems ridiculous but I don’t want to watch you dance with someone else even if, technically, she is your wife.” You pouted a little. He kissed your bottom lip and pulled you into his arms.
“You wanna dance with me, baby? Let’s dance. Alexa…play my Y/N playlist.” The speaker sprang to life filling the air with a sweeping piano and Nina Simone’s velvety voice. You swayed to the music while Andy sang softly in your ear “…..So baby love me, love me tonight……”
You stared up at him, tears shimmering in your eyes, “I’m sorry I was a bitch. I guess I’m a little on edge.”
“Don’t apologize. I’d be offended if you weren’t a little jealous. I’m on edge too. Every time I think about being here alone I can’t breathe.”
“So come with me.” It’s not that the thought hasn’t crossed his mind. He didn’t want to be that far away from Jacob. He just started this job. You both knew it was a ridiculous request.
“Give me some time.” You spent the rest of the night swaying in each other’s arms. Fucking hell. You fell in love.
46 notes
·
View notes
Text
Unconventional Proposals--3/?
Pairing: Lukanette
Read on AO3
[1-Imprint on Me/Soulmate-Imprint] [2-Jealousy]
Luka was exhausted but felt fulfilled as he stumbled into the apartment he shared with his girlfriend of a year. Ever since the defeat of Hawkmoth/Shadow Moth--whatever he had been calling himself, patrols were more of a routine to reassure Paris that they were still paying attention. It had been Viperion's--now known by another name to the public--and King Monkey's turn tonight. (Ladybug and Dragoon had patrolled during the morning and evening.) As was typical of patrols with King Monkey, he had made it a competition; a competition Luka had won despite his disadvantage.
Luka tried to be as quiet as possible as he took the plate Marinette had prepared for him out of the fridge. He peeled off the plastic wrap and stuck the plate of chicken and fried rice into the microwave. His eyes landed on a card on the counter beside the stove. He raised a brow as he lifted it; it was a card from his favorite tattoo shop. The date on the back was marked as someone having an appointment earlier today. Both eyebrows lifted. 'Did Marinette get another tattoo?' A flush stole over him at the thought. Her ladybug on the cherry blossom flower tattoo was already a source of fascination for him, but to think she had gotten another tattoo made him feel hot. His mind was filled with possibilities as he ate.
Her ladybug tattoo was on her upper shoulder; she had displayed it for weeks after she got it with tank-tops and strapless summer dresses. 'Did she get it somewhere she could display it like the other one?' He wondered. 'Or is somewhere secret--that only I'll see?' He didn't know which thought made him more flustered.
Marinette was out like a light whenever he came in to the bedroom. She was sprawled on her back above the covers, tank-top riding up past her belly button. A noticeable strip of something sat on the swell of her hip, bared just enough so that it could heal by the bikini string style panties she wore. He grabbed a hold of the doorframe. 'Oh my god...' He thought as the answer to his earlier musing was provided. 'She's trying to kill me.' Marinette stretched her arms above her head, pulling at the tattoo with a full body stretch, and winced. Sleepy blue eyes opened as she hissed. Luka frowned. 'Right...still tender.' He thought. Her eyes blinked a few times as she turned her arms back to her sides.
"Luka?" She called once she saw him. "What are you doing?"
"You got a new tattoo?" He asked instead of revealing that he had been composing himself. She smirked as if she knew anyway and laid a hand over the tattoo, gently cupping it.
"Yup," she agreed. Her smirk becoming a wide mischievous smile that made his heart race. "Kagami got one too."
"Oh, well there went her mother's approval of you," Luka teased as he shed his shirt over his head.
"Y-yeah." Now, it was his turn to smirk. Even after a year of being together and three months of intimacy, Marinette was still easily flustered herself. "Kagami rebelling against her mother has been a long time coming; I just gave her a little push."
"What is it?" Luka asked, "your tattoo, not 'Gami's." Marinette bit into her bottom lip; the confidence of earlier melted into nervousness.
"You can turn on the light," she instructed. He switched on the lamp at her bedside table instead. The light was low enough that it wouldn't bother her eyes, but bright enough that he could see the tattoo at her hip. His breath caught and he sank down to his knees beside the bed to get a better look. A green snake wrapped around a black and skin-tone guitar and somehow it felt more intimate than if she had gotten his name tatted on her skin. His eyes flashed up to hers. She flushed deeply at the heat and question in his eyes. She worried her bottom lip as she said, "I wanted something that said I was yours." Her blush grew brighter at the slight groan that escaped Luka's lips as he rested his head onto her stomach. "I thought a tattoo would say it best...u-until a ring could say it for me..." He murmured something against her skin. "What?"
"I said, you stole my thunder."
"Huh?"
She sat up as Luka pushed to his feet and walked around the bed to his beside table. He pushed aside his socks and withdrew a box. Marinette's breath left her in a rush, suddenly as off balance as he was earlier. He opened it as he walked back over to her and knelt back down. A simple golden band with a diamond in the center sat in the box. Her heart climbed to her throat.
"I had planned to ask you to marry me in a few days;" Luka explained, "Jagged and Penny had helped me plan this whole thing. I was supposed to ask at that restaurant on sixth street that we like so much. But someone had to go and get a deliciously placed tattoo..." Marinette giggled. "So, I feel it's only appropriate that I ask you now..." Marinette clenched her hands on her knees as he asked, "Marinette, will you marry me?"
"Yes," Marinette answered. He slipped the engagement ring on her finger. For a moment, they were both still, admiring the sight. And then, Marinette tackled him back onto the floor. He laughed as he embraced her. "When have we ever been conventional, anyway?" She reminded him.
"We can still go to the restaurant."
"Oh, definitely. I love that place..."
41 notes
·
View notes
Note
Hey book expert! I read the books a few months ago but I’m in the mood for a brief re-read. What’s some of your favorite chapters from any of the books? Love your fics sm btw !!! Ur very talented !!!
mwah, anon!
My top moment in the Books is Dragonfly in Amber chapter 17, “Possession” - the first Outlander excerpt I ever read. And in my mind, the most honest conversation Jamie and Claire have ever had:
“Claire. To feel the small bones of your neck beneath my hands, and that fine, thin skin on your breasts and your arms… Lord, you are my wife, whom I cherish and I love wi’ all my life, and still I want to kiss ye hard enough to bruise your tender lips, and see the marks of my fingers on your skin.”
He dropped the towel. He raised his hands and held them trembling in the air before his face, then very slowly brought them down to rest on my head as though in benediction.
“I want to hold you like a kitten in my shirt, mo duinne , and still I want to spread your thighs and plow ye like a rutting bull.” His fingers tightened in my hair. “I dinna understand myself!”
I pulled my head back, freeing myself, and took a half-step backward. The blood seemed all to be on the surface of my skin, and a chill ran down my body at the brief separation.
“Do you think it’s different for me? Do you think I don’t feel the same?” I demanded. “That I don’t sometimes want to bite you hard enough to taste blood, or claw you ‘til you cry out?”
I reached out slowly to touch him. The skin of his breast was damp and warm. Only the nail of my forefinger touched him, just below the nipple. Lightly, barely touching, I drew the nail upward, downward, circling round, watching the tiny nub rise hard amid the curling ruddy hairs.
The nail pressed slightly harder, sliding down, leaving a faint red streak on the fair skin of his chest. I was trembling all over by this time, but did not turn away. “Sometimes I want to ride you like a wild horse, and bring you to the taming—did you know that? I can do it, you know I can. Drag you over the edge and drain you to a gasping husk. I can drive you to the edge of collapse and sometimes I delight in it, Jamie, I do! And yet so often I want"—my voice broke suddenly and I had to swallow hard before continuing—"I want… to hold your head against my breast and cradle you like a child and comfort you to sleep.”
My eyes were so full of tears that I couldn’t see his face clearly; couldn’t see if he wept as well. His arms went tight around me and the damp heat of him engulfed me like the breath of a monsoon.
"Claire, ye do kill me, knife or no,” he whispered, face buried in my hair. He bent and picked me up, carrying me to the bed. He sank to his knees, laying me amid the rumpled quilts.
“You’ll lie wi’ me now,” he said quietly. “And I shall use ye as I must. And if you’ll have your revenge for it, then take it and welcome, for my soul is yours, in all the black corners of it.”
The skin of his shoulders was warm with the heat of the bath, but he shivered as with cold as my hands traveled up to his neck, and I pulled him down to me. And when I had at length taken my last revenge of him, I did cradle him, stroking back the roughened, half-dry locks.
“And sometimes,” I whispered to him, “I wish it could be you inside me. That I could take you into me and keep you safe always.”
His hand, large and warm, lifted slowly from the bed and cupped the small round swell of my belly, sheltering and caressing.
“You do, my own,” he said. “You do.”
106 notes
·
View notes
Text
Black lace and property damage
Summary: With your messy work hours, Bucky’s consistently inconsistent mission schedule, and those basic life tasks you’re both ignoring (when was the last time he actually bought a new toothbrush?), the simple act of just being together has been shunted to the side. Bucky’s officially starting to panic.
Characters: Bucky x Reader Warnings: SMUT, 18+. Sweet sex, awkward sex, some dirty sex, some sex on a car. Basically sex. Swearing. Bucky wearing a white t-shirt and dog tags. My sketchy automotive knowledge.
A/N: This story is sort of an ode to anyone struggling to make time for your person. Life gets busy, so don’t be afraid to get creative. Also sometimes sex goes smooth and perfect, but often it comes with mishaps and giggles. Both ways are great, Bucky says just roll with it!
Want to find all my stories? Search #bitsmasterlist or try the link in my bio!
*****
The porch light above the front door is out.
Was he supposed to change that before he left?
--
“I’m not touching it Bucky, there are spiders up there. Big ones. The kind that give you rabies.”
“Spiders don’t have rabies.”
“No one’s ever proven that.”
--
Dammit. Yeah, he was.
Picturing you stumbling up the porch, using the pathetic flashlight on your phone to light the way, Bucky feels like a world class, Grade A jackass. He needs to make it up to you.
Good thing he has plenty of ideas for that.
“Please be home,” he mutters, “please be home, please dear god be fucking home.”
Fingers crossed, he kicks the door open and calls out a hopeful hello.
An empty echo returns.
Bucky blows out a frustrated breath.
Figures.
Slogging down the dark hallway, he slings his bag on the kitchen table with a thud. Grenade pins, bullet casings, fun size candy bar wrappers, and handfuls of beer bottle caps rattle loose in the army green canvas and he grimaces.
One of these days, maybe, just fucking maybe, he’ll convince Natasha to stop using his bags as her garbage bin.
Ignoring that disaster zone (a problem for future Bucky), he wanders over to the sink, where he spies a small tableau on the counter. Propped up beside his favorite coffee mug, the one with sparkly pink letters proclaiming “Bitch, I’m Fabulous”, is a folded piece of paper, his name scrawled across the front.
He flips it open.
“Hey Bucky Bear. Don’t let your sexy ass fall asleep before I get home, I have a surprise!”
Drawn under your bubbly letters, he finds two stick figures entangled in an outrageously lewd sex act. Tracing tender fingers over the very obviously male stick figure (you never were very subtle), he grins so hard his cheeks ache. Leaning on the counter, he sniffs the letter because he’s a sentimental sap and it smells like your Cherry-Almond lotion, and drops his head in his arms.
“So tired,” he whines softly, voice muffled against sleek granite.
Three weeks. That was the last mission. Three weeks, even though Steve guaranteed Bucky three days max. Of course, two days into the mission Bucky remembered that Steve Rogers is an accomplished liar, so instead he spent three exhausting weeks dodging bullets, rewashing all his underwear, and hysterically rationing his bag of fun size candy bars.
Finally home, he wants to forget everything and sink into the post-mission domesticity he dreams about when he’s stuck in some dank motel on the corner of Fuck This and No One Cares. The routine is simple. A scalding hot shower, burrito wrapping himself in the feather duvet, making out with you for a few hours, taking a break to eat some pizza, and then fucking you so hard he breaks the brand new headboard he made for you last month (actually the third headboard he’s made...a fact he smugly reports to anyone and everyone).
And after all that fun, he wants to sleep. Maybe two full days. Or five. Tops.
Is that asking too much?
“No,” he sighs out loud. “It’s not.”
Carefully folding the cartoon and your sweet message, he kisses the paper and tucks it in his back pocket.
No way he’s falling asleep before he sees you. Nope. Nada. Negative. Totally not happening.
Pepping himself up, he goes to work, whizzing through his homecoming task list.
Blood-stained tac clothes go in the washer with three cups of bleach. Guns and knives are wiped down and polished. The contents of the dirty green canvas bag are unceremoniously trashed. The spider infested porch light is changed (with only three furry sightings). The shower is set to a blistering temp and he hangs out in there for an hour, soaping his hair into a foamy mohawk, belting out a few showtunes with his shampoo bottle microphone.
Scrubbed fresh and clean, he flops on the bed with his Starkpad and opens up Netflix, searching for something to keep him awake. Several scrolls later, he finds Brooklyn 99 and settles in for a laugh.
Confident in his ability to resist the appealing pull of sleep scratching at his brain, he takes a slurp of the Super Double Big Gulp sized coffee on his nightstand and stretches his eyes wide open.
Staying awake. Piece of cake.
Ten minutes later, Bucky’s fast asleep.
*****
When his eyes pop open, the room is dark. He feels tipsy, sleep drunk on his first uninterrupted hours of rest in weeks.
Beside him, he feels the cozy pressure of another body. Glancing down, he finds you curled under the sheets at his side, your face smushed against his arm, steady breaths fogging the gleaming metal.
Asleep.
Bucky grits his teeth. Squeezes his eyes shut. One thing. You asked him to do one thing.
God. Dammit.
Furious with his lame old man ass, he almost wakes you up. Almost. But then he swallows that desire and thinks.
Before he got married, Bucky read every relationship advice book under the sun. He gets the importance of keeping the romance alive. He knows you need to cherish your person, make them a priority, shower them with love. He knows. He gets it. He watches Oprah, for fuck’s sake. Relationships take work.
But lately? This is life.
With your messy work hours, Bucky’s consistently inconsistent mission schedule, and those basic life tasks you’re both ignoring (when was the last time he actually bought a new toothbrush?), the simple act of just being together has been shunted to the side.
Bucky’s officially starting to panic.
Although, he muses, eyes lingering on the innocent curve of your mouth, the chaos has forced both of you to get more…creative.
He grins.
It was you who instigated it the first time. He was lying in a dingy motel bed when you nervously offered.
--
“Hey, um…do think maybe you’d…like…would you…uh…”
“Spit it out babe.”
“Doyouwannatryphonesex?”
--
An anxious slur so fast, he nearly misses the question. He remembers that beat of hesitation, before you dove in headfirst, telling him in obscenely explicit detail exactly what you wanted to do to him. He was so shocked he dropped the phone and had to naked crawl under the grimy mattress to fish it out.
He must’ve jerked off five times that night. Replaying your filthy words. Remembering the quiet whimpers as you came on your fingers, gasping out his name. What a treat.
Sexting soon followed, accompanied by a plethora of nudes. None from you of course, because as you always remind him, you’re a lady, but Bucky? He gets irrational joy from sending them. They come in a variety of close-ups and poses, several which Sam accidentally discovered when he walked in on Bucky prancing around naked, searching for his best angle.
Sam always knocks now.
But sometimes words and pictures aren’t enough. Sometimes you need the soothing weight of someone in your arms. The scent of sweaty skin beneath your nose. Hot breaths of pleasure in your ear and the touch of a cool tongue licking across a heated body.
Sometimes he just needs you.
Could he wake you up? Sure. He knows you wouldn’t mind, you’ve told him a thousand times. But he also knows how tired you’ve been, and he can’t bring himself to shake you awake, selfishly stealing those bits of recovery you need.
So instead, he searches for something to keep him occupied.
He tries reading Game of Thrones again and gets nowhere. Thinks yet again someone needs to get George R.R. Martin an editor.
He flicks on his phone and covertly watches PornHub on mute. Seriously debates whether he can get away with jerking off while you’re sleeping because hey, Bucky Barnes is nothing if not stealthy.
He stares up at the ceiling and tries to see how long he can hold his breath. He gets 2 minutes and 8 seconds (a new record) before giving up.
In the end, he rolls onto his side stares intently at you. Wills you to wake up on your own. Come on baby, please.
But nothing works, and when sleep still doesn’t come, he decides to be productive. Crawling carefully from the bed, he smothers a laugh when you curl instantly into the warm mattress dip of his body, burrowing further under the blankets and unconsciously stealing his pillow. Most mornings Bucky wakes up hanging off the bed, no blankets or pillows to his name, while you’re swathed in comfort, cold toes shoved beneath his belly.
Maybe he should be annoyed. Except every time he looks at you, he forgets how to scowl.
Love is weird.
Rummaging silently through the closet, he unearths a threadbare pair of jeans and an oil stained t-shirt, slips into his worn leather boots. He drops a light kiss on your forehead, brushing a finger down the curve of your neck. Smiles to himself when you snuffle a quiet snore.
And he heads out the backdoor, down the weatherworn brick to the garage out back.
It was an added bonus when he bought the house. An unanticipated domestic perk. Hell, he never thought he’d find someone would actually date him, let alone someone who wanted to marry him and buy a house with him and accept his penchant for hoarding things in a rickety old garage (come on, I grew up in the Depression and I need this, he whines every time you take him to Target).
Thank god you said yes. He’s the luckiest jerk in the world.
Flicking on the garage light, Bucky still gets a little thrill. The entire place is an homage to eclectic, random artifacts, from the box of ugly 1970s vases he found at a flea market, to the fishing equipment he insisted on buying and has yet to use, to the sack of broken seashells you drunkenly collected on your honeymoon in Costa Rica.
In the midst of the swirl sits his pride and joy. Cherry red paint, black leather seats, a tad dusty, full of potential.
The 1969 Camaro looks like a teenage wet dream.
He remembers the day he brought it home, that surge of macho pride when your eyes lit up. After you slapped his ass and told him how sexy the car was, he reveled in your admiration for maybe 10 seconds, before hauling you back to the house and under the sheets. Took several hours before you both came up for air.
That was a good time, he thinks dreamily.
The car attracted his friends as well. Sam and Steve brought over a celebratory case of beer and stood by while Bucky explained the changes he had planned. Steve gave a few sage nods, while Sam helpfully threw out words like fuel injector now and then. Neither had a fucking clue what was happening, but Bucky graciously let them fake it.
Tony also saw the car once. Got a fervent gleam in his eye and started to say the phrase jet fuel, before Bucky ushered him out the door. Tony doesn’t get to see the car anymore.
There are still plenty of fixes to make, but for tonight he takes it easy. Flips on the ancient radio perched above the workbench and flops down on a rolling seat, sliding under the Camaro to tinker around. He goes to work, lets the crackle of the radio and the mechanical puzzle lull him into focus mode.
So intent on the task at hand, he barely hears the garage door opening.
The click of a shoe alerts him too late and he freezes, gripping his wrench tight. Muscles tense, garage floor plans and fight scenarios flooding his brain.
“Bucky? Do you have a sec?”
His breath whooshes in relief at your voice. A silly grin bubbles up because you’re finally awake, until he tilts his head sideways, peering out from under the car to see your feet.
Black high heels.
Stomach sinking, Bucky closes his eyes. Back to work then. Motherfucker. He missed his chance again.
Swallowing down the bitter disappointment, he croaks out a plea.
“Hey babe, do you gotta go back to the office so soon? Can you just - “
Click click and you step between his legs. Firm hands clutch the oil stained fabric at his knees and you pull. The seat rolls easily and he slides free, squinting up at you in the dim light.
The words die on his lips.
Black high heels, yes.
And.
Lacy black underwear, the sides held together with thick satin ribbons. A lacy black bra, your breasts threatening to spill out.
Gorgeous, devilish smile.
Fingering the wide satin bow between your breasts, you tease a light tug and Bucky starts sweating like a virgin on prom night. His wrench slips from numb fingers, thunking him in the nuts and clattering away.
“Shit,” he grunts. There’s a moment of confusion on whether the fresh ache in his balls is from the punch of the wrench, or tantalizing swathes of skin before him, but then you say his name and he figures it out pretty fucking fast.
“Hey Bucky Bear,” you purr, in that raspy voice he loves. “Still want that surprise I promised?”
Palming himself roughly, Bucky adjusts the suddenly tight front of his jeans, eyeing you with a lusty smile. Fuck yes, he wants his surprise. He wants everything about you.
“You bet your sweet ass I do. What’d you have in mind?”
“I have some ideas,” you say playfully. Stepping closer, slipping your fingers into his silky hair, he leans into the touch. “And I promise we’ll get to them. But first, how about you stay down there and maybe show me how much you missed me?”
Torn, Bucky looks down at his oil stained fingers. They spasm, clutching the edge of the seat so tight the metal bends. His voice drops several octaves.
“Babe, I - shit, I’m gonna kill the mood here, but my hands are all dirty, I should wash ‘em first,” he apologizes. Rolling your eyes, you shift closer until the edge of his nose is a mere inch from the delicate lace panties.
“I’m not asking for your hands, soldier. You have a mouth. Get creative.”
Bucky’s jaw drops. Sassy and domineering? And nearly naked?
Hell yes, his dick shouts. Here we fucking go.
Warm and cool, tentative fingertips press into the smooth skin behind your knees, stroking higher until he’s plucking the satin ribbons and pulling. It feels like Christmas morning when the knot slowly breaks apart, whispers of satin and lace floating to the ground.
Nosing against your core, he inhales, long and deep. A low growl rumbles, rough hands gripping your hips tight and heat explodes across your skin when his tongue presses into your folds, licking over your clit.
“God,” your moan is dark, desperately breathless, “keep - that feels so good, Bucky, keep going, please, been way too long.”
Bucky gives a fervent nod of agreement, strands of his dark hair tickling your thighs. When was the last time he did this? Nah, you know what? If he has to ask, it’s been too long.
From now on, the only correct answer should be every damn day.
He feels you moving his head, guiding him exactly where you need him most, and he hums hungrily. Shoves his tongue deeper. He adores when you take charge, using him, his mouth or his fingers or his dick, to get yourself off. He loves it, dreams about it, wishes you would let him film it just one time (because sometimes missions last three weeks not three days Steve).
But until then, he devotes himself to making it perfect because you deserve perfect.
Fast, firm flicks of the tongue. Long, leisurely strokes, licking you slow and sweet. Rough pressure, his plush pink lips sucking tight around your clit. So good.
Your eyes fall closed as his tongue moves faster, quicker, pushing you closer closer closer -
No, that won’t do. Cold metal lightly pinches your ass, a bid for attention. Chest heaving, you open your eyes.
Bright eyed and eager, Bucky gazes up from between your legs, looking thoroughly debauched. White t-shirt stretched tight across broad shoulders, dark hair mussed in your fingers, an obvious erection straining his jeans.
So close, you’re so close, right on the edge, just another second -
He knows, of course. Could always play you like a fiddle. He cocks a challenging eyebrow, sucks your clit between his teeth -
“Oh god, Bucky, fuck,” you moan. Weak knees buckle and his hands clutch your ass, keeping you upright and open. He never stops licking, swirling that talented tongue to draw out the bursts and shocks of pleasure until you’re gasping. When he’s wrung every drop from you, he kisses the sensitive bud and tips his head back with an arrogant smirk.
Legs like jelly, you promptly collapse into his lap.
The momentum of the fall sends the rolling seat flying. Busy being chivalrous and keeping you from tumbling headfirst onto dirty concrete, Bucky lets the wheels send him whizzing backward. His head smacks the door handle with a sharp thwack.
“Ow,” he grunts.
“Sorry,” you pant. Struggling for breath, wrapped in the haze of post orgasm bliss, you cuddle against him, soaking up his warmth. “Want me to rub it?”
Massaging his head, he wrinkles his nose. “Maybe. Depends on what you’re offering to rub.”
“Dealer’s choice,” you sass, and Bucky barks out a laugh. Wandering hands skim lightly over your shoulders, fingering the straps of the lacy bra, feather light trails along your collarbone, to the satin bow between your breaks. Tugging impatiently, he smiles when it unwinds, your breasts spilling free.
“Well, how about I take my pants off, we get in the backseat of this car, and you rub whatever you find.”
“Intriguing. What happens after I finish rubbing whatever…pokes my fancy?”
Bucky dips his head, takes your nipple between his lips, sucking gently. The feel of his wet mouth has you squirming closer until he pauses to offer an option.
“Maybe we fuck like a couple horny teenagers?”
“You’re killing me with the romance here, Barnes,” you say drily and he chuckles. “But I was maybe thinking something different.”
“Yeah? And what’s that?”
Licking a lazy strip between your breasts, he kisses up, up, up, until his tongue finds the hammering pulse of your heartbeat. Bemused, he hears your voice falter, before bravely offering your idea.
“I was thinking maybe I sit on the hood of your pretty red car, and – and you spread my legs and fuck me so good, I can’t walk for a week.”
Startled, Bucky pulls back. Excitement explodes in his chest.
“You - really? Seriously? That’s what you want?”
“Yep,” you confirm, palpable relief at successfully executing the dirty request. “That’s exactly what I want.”
Bucky plants a sloppy kiss on the tip of your nose. Wiggles his eyebrows and winks.
“Well god damn. You got it sweet cheeks.”
Wasting no time, he pushes off the ground and you kick your heels off, wrapping your legs around his waist. He huffs out a blissful moan when you suck a string of hickeys down his neck, grinding against you as he stumbles to the front of the car. Without thinking, he drops you on the shiny red hood and -
“Cold!”
Icy metal meets your bare ass. There’s a panicked scramble back into his arms and he manages to catch you, until your flailing upper cut cracks his jaw. It sends him off balance, tripping forward to smack his kneecaps on the Camaro’s fancy new grill. A grating screech tears the air and the grill rattles to the floor, the metallic clang bouncing off the walls.
Flinching, you peer up at him as it fades away.
Bucky’s nose twitches.
In all his fantasies (and there are many, because you are one sexy piece of ass), this shit never happens. Every sexcapade is effortlessly smooth, sensual and steamy, where you both look great, not a hair out of place, no oil-stained hands or unintended destruction of expensive vintage cars.
In reality, it seems like something always goes sideways. One of his nipples gets gouged by your fingernail or the silk from your negligee gets caught in the plates of his arm, or one of his perfectly aimed thrusts sends you both toppling off the bed. Sometimes he wonders if this is just the two of you? Do other people have perfectly orchestrated sex lives? Is porn not a true mirror of real life?
Is porn a lie?
Maybe he should watch more porn and form a more educated opinion.
For now, he takes in your crestfallen expression, vehemently shaking his head when you try to apologize.
“Buck, I’m sorry, I -“
Holding up a stern hand, he stops you cold. Sets you on your feet, gallantly whipping off his shirt, and spreading it on the shiny red paint. This time when he sets you on the hood, you lay back until the familiar scent of his cologne hugs you close. Bucky lifts your feet, propping each on the hood, spreading your legs open. He leans in close, a pink flush spreading over his chest, crawling up his throat, blue eyes turning dark.
“Listen to me. Don’t ever apologize, okay? You’re worth more than this old junker.” A crooked smile tilts his mouth, his voice as soft as the lips now brushing yours. “You’re priceless. You understand?”
“Okay,” you murmur. Fingers dance lightly up the hard planes of his stomach, wrapping around the chain of his old dog tags. “I understand.”
Bucky nods, watching your eyes drift down, drinking him up. He lives for that look. Sets him on fire, to watch you ogle him. When your eyes skate down his right side, he flexes his forearm a bit, because he knows it turns you on.
A swift tug of the chain and he dips easily, mouth slanting over yours. There’s a faint sound of teeth clacking together, and he stifles a laugh at your excitement. Deep kisses, stoking that simmering fire sitting right below the surface. Your lips part and he slides inside, curling his tongue around yours, pulling away to lick along the corner of your mouth, to suck your bottom lip between his teeth.
The thought appears, same as when he had his mouth between your legs. How long has it been since the two of you just made out like this? Same answer? Too fucking long?
This is definitely happening more often.
He feels your eager fingers reach for the button of his jeans, popping it open, slipping your hand inside. Cool fingers wrap tight around his cock, the other hand wandering down to squeeze a handful of his ass. Bucky hurriedly shimmies his pants to his knees, sets both hands on the car and leans forward, tipping his face down, touching his forehead to yours. Blue eyes flutter closed, breath hitching while he concentrates on the feel of your capable hands, slow strokes along his length, slicker with each tug.
“Fuck, that feels good,” he grits out. “Can you - damn that’s good - can you, there, bit lower -“
Ragged pants melt into a low groan when you slip your hand from the death grip on his ass to cup his balls, rolling them against your palm.
“Like that?”
“Yeah, yeah, yes, fuck yes, just like that,” he hisses, thrusting into your hands. “Can you - can you pull just a little-“
He stammers the question, ignoring your amused hum. It was a quirk, one he discovered early in the relationship. It came out of the blue, a bashful request during a romp in the sheets, but for some reason, Bucky has a thing for having his balls tugged. Not hard (which was also discovered after an unconsciously rough yank had him squealing in pain), but more of a soft squeeze, followed by a slow pull.
Like how you squeeze an overripe banana, he had explained later, gingerly massaging his balls. Not so hard it squishes.
Many entertaining attempts later, and he swears you have the move patented. Stroking his dick faster, your thumb presses over his balls, before a careful pull. Tipping his head back, Bucky stares glass eyed at the ceiling, lost in pleasure, pushing himself into your firm grip.
“Feel good?” you murmur.
“Yeah. Yes, so good, so god damn good ,” he chokes out. Faster, harder, faster - and then a strangled gasp and panicked blue eyes catch yours. “Wait, too good, it’s too good! Don’t wanna come yet, hang on! Need to be inside you first.”
He grabs your wrists, the thwarted sting of a denied orgasm obvious in the grind of his teeth. Both of you look down to where your hands are wrapped around him, one still kneading his balls, the other curled around the velvety hot skin of his cock.
“Okay,” you say, looking him up and down. “Fine, but - you’re so sexy, Bucky. And I love your balls.”
Bucky nods furiously, gulping a deep lungful of air. His ass cheeks are twitching.
“I love that you love them, I really do. But babe, I need you to let go of my balls or I’ll come all over your hand,” he rasps, wiggling away. Releasing him, your hands run up his chest, twining around his neck, dragging his sweat damp chest flush against you.
“If I must,” you agree, smiling into his lips. Bucky relaxes into you, the slow melt of tongues follows, the kind where a kiss bounces around, until it finds the perfect rhythm. His hands trace up the line of your arms, unlocking your fingers and pulling them free. Brushing his thumbs over your wrists, he bends close, kisses your knuckles.
And then he folds your arms above your head, pinning them down.
“Keep them there, alright? Don’t move until I say you can.”
“Kinky. Yes sir,” you breathe. He smirks.
“You’d better watch it, you little deviant. I might get used to that.”
“Sorry…sir.”
Pulling you further down the hood, he rubs his cock between your legs, sliding himself between your folds until a slick sheen coats his skin. It startles a grunt from you when he abruptly shoves inside, sinking deep until his hips press flush to yours.
He waits. Has to wait actually, because its been a long damn time and if he’s not careful he’s going to embarrass himself before he even gets started and holy shit, is this even real life? Is he dreaming?
Splayed out on the hood of his car, legs wide open, breasts wet from his tongue, black lace and crumpled satin ribbons. Arms pinned above the luscious skin bared just for him. Bucky stares between your legs, dry mouthed and dizzy.
“Come on, Bucky, please? Fuck me, please fuck me, I missed you so much.”
How could he ever resist this? You naked, writhing against the vivid red of his Camaro, moaning for him to fuck you, with his cock buried in your -
“Aw fucking hell,” he mutters. After so many weeks apart, he knows full well this won’t last long. It’s a damn good thing he has more than a few rounds in him.
Cracking his neck, rolling his shoulders back, he digs thick fingers into your thighs, pulls back nice and slow. He waits. Waits. Waits a bit longer because he likes to be an asshole and hear you beg.
“Bucky, come on -”
And he plunges into you, burying himself in the tight, silky heat of your cunt. Warm up over, no slow start. The pace he sets is rough, so deep he feels the pleasure licking down his spine and into his toes. Over and over, he slams into you until one particularly sharp thrust presses the tip of his cock against that perfect spot inside and you arch up with a broken cry. Hands scrabble above your heard, searching for anything to hold onto, finding something flexible.
With a plastic snap, the windshield wiper blade breaks off in your hand.
Bucky stutters to a halt, blinking sweat from his eyes when he sees the look of horror on your face. The apology is still forming when he snatches the plastic from your fingers, throwing it aside.
“Don’t care,” he grunts. Giving you no time to argue, he wraps his hands behind your knees and raises your hips, fucking into you faster. The filthy echo of sweat slick skin accompanies his breathless order. “Touch yourself. Let me watch.”
A frantic agreement and one hand slips between your legs, the other cupping your breast. Frantic circles over the swollen bud, trembling fingers plucking at a pebbled nipple. Bucky watches greedily, eyes flickering back and forth, memorizing those things that bring you pleasure, fantastically dirty memories to replay on a rainy day.
“Bucky,” desperate fingers rub your clit faster. “Keep going, please keep - keep doing that, I’m close, I’m so close, I’m -“
Sharp and sweet and unexpected, the orgasm crashes into you. Arching up, the low moan tears free, and Bucky slows, hypnotized by the sight of you shuddering beneath him.
“There you go, that’s it,” he urges hoarsely, before surging forward and capturing your lips in a wild kiss. Two more pumps of his hips and he stops, grinding against you until he comes with a heavy groan.
Silence fills the room, broken only with the sounds of harsh breaths and the wet rush of his heartbeat thumping in his ears. He rests his forehead between your breasts, listening to the staccato beat of your quick breaths, until you struggle up onto your elbows, pushing his sweaty hair away from his face.
“So I broke your car.”
He says nothing, but a moment later his shoulders begin to shake and suddenly he’s laughing, great rushing wheezes as he struggles for breath. Raising his head, he finds you nervously squinting down at him. He stretches up, presses a kiss to your forehead.
“I got insurance. Just need to check my coverage for mildly destructive ‘I missed you’ sex.”
“You might consider expanding that policy. I’m just saying,” you suggest with a giggle and he snorts.
Quiet contentment blankets the stuffy garage, both of you basking in that tingly afterglow. Folding your hands behind his neck, you draw him close and Bucky nuzzles into the crook of your neck.
“Been tough lately,” he whispers, mouthing gently along your throat. “Trying to find time together.”
Nodding slowly, your smile turns wistful.
“Yeah…guess it makes any time we get even better. Right? It doesn’t matter to me what we do, as long as we’re doing it together.”
Bucky feels a lump in his throat (the kind that could easily dissolve into manly super soldier tears), and he gathers you in his arms, tucking you against his chest. When he answers, his voice cracks just a bit.
“Someone’s a sentimental sap.”
He hears your muffled laugh against his chest, feels you bite at his collarbone and he chuckles.
“I love you Bucky. And I’m really sorry I murdered your car.”
“I love you too, babe. I’m glad you came down here. Especially in that outfit.”
“Yeah? You liked it?”
“Fuck yes I did. What spurred that idea, hmm?”
“I just don’t want to lose our spark,” you admit, snuggling closer. “When things get so busy, it’s easy to let things like this slide, and I don’t want you to - get bored, I guess. With us.”
Bucky thinks about all his relationship advice articles and the fact that he sometimes even prints them out and goes through with a yellow highlighter to capture the key points. Hearing your soft concern makes him fall even more in love with you.
Because this is important. This relationship, this love, this spark he was lucky enough to find with you, it’s the most important thing in his world. You are the most important thing in his world.
Brushing a knuckle down your cheek, he coaxes your chin up.
“I know it’s tough, always being on different schedules, but I want you to know, I’m always gonna love you and I’m always gonna want you. Nothing changes that. And if you ever doubt just how much I genuinely want to bang you all night long, then you say something. Deal?”
He boops your nose and you grin.
“Deal.”
“And honey, not that I’m complaining, trust me, but you don’t need to dress sexy to get me all reved up,” he shrugs. “You do that just by looking at me.”
“You do know how to charm the pants off a lady, Barnes.”
He throws his head back and laughs. Swings you up in his arms and calms your startled yelp with a kiss.
“Damn straight. Now how about we give that backseat a try. I think you mentioned wanting to rub something back there?”
*****
5K notes
·
View notes