#the most beautiful man in the world right there

[starsinthesky5]

“fun fact, she wrote about half of the first draft of so high school in one sitting at an indoor practice one day. she was feeling a little too inspired that afternoon, watching him run around in those damn athletic shorts and the black compression tank that drove her mad. let’s just say the storage closet saw a bit of action that day..”

so basically hi yes i need this as a blurb immediately

contains smut and language. mdni

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(november)

she only meant to sit there and get some writing done. and well, to watch her guy do his thing while she simultaneously did hers. 

really. that’s all it was. harmless football fun. or so she thought.

he was her biggest source of inspiration and she needed a good dose of joe to write her next song. daydreaming about him while he was at practice, only did so much, and well, since quite a few football anecdotes were being mixed into the song, she wanted the full-fledged experience. be right in the middle of the sport she was so fond of, and the sport her man excelled at. she followed him around with those adorable puppy dog eyes and that signature pout the night before, begging for him to take her to practice the next morning. at first he was hesitant, not because people would notice her, but because he didn’t want her to catch a fastball to the face. 

that beautiful, crafted by the angels, baby face. 

he didn’t care if anyone saw her because even though their relationship was still hidden from the world, everyone who needed to know about them, knew. and that included his teammates & organization. 

anyway, she convinced him (like she always does since he physically can’t say no to her) by promising that she’d spend the rest of the evening after the game on sunday watching game of thrones with joe. ever since he found out she’s never watched a single minute of—according to him—the best piece of visual media ever created, he’s made it his mission to educate her on the masterpiece that his favorite show ever. he’s been relentless about it, bringing it up at every opportunity, dropping references she doesn’t understand, and even going as far as calling it a “relationship red flag” that she’s never seen it.  

so when she batted her lashes at him and promised a whole uninterrupted evening of watching with him—no distractions, no excuses—he caved. just like he always does.  

because as much as he loves football, and as much as he takes game day seriously, he loves her more. and if having her in the background, watching him ball with those doe eyes while she wrote so poetically about his goofy ass, in exchange for her curled up beside him, wrapped in a blanket, fully immersed in the world of westeros, is the price to pay? 

well, that’s an easy decision.

she was just sitting there on her woodvale tour blanket—the one she brought with her to the private suite every gameday because she called it a good luck charm (that’s a story for another day). her bag placed next to her and her pens, books, and film camera scattered around her. she was tucked away in the corner of the indoor practice facility, far enough away not to disrupt the players but close enough to feel joe’s presence. her journal was open, glitter gel pen gliding across the page as lyrics spilled out in a steady rhythm.

truth, dare, spin bottles, you know how to ball, i know aristotle

“well, i guess that last lyric works for him too. perks of having an incredibly athletic boyfriend who also is the most intellectual person you’ve ever met," she muttered under her breath, giggling at how joe was literally the real life version of the dreamy love interest in every high school rom-com. the kind of guy who could ace a calculus test with one hand and throw a perfect spiral with the other. the one who made teachers adore him, parents trust him, and every opposing team fear him.

she sighed dramatically, twirling her pen between her fingers. “seriously, it’s almost unfair,” she mumbled, shaking her head. “where’s the flaw? there has to be a flaw,”.

there was no flaw about him. good luck trying to find one ;)

and then, a few minutes later, the man of the hour came into her vantage point, and she nearly lost her shit. 

joe, in those damn athletic shorts and that black compression tank clinging to him in all the right places, muscles rippling with every throw, sweat glistening on his temple—he looked too damn good, distractingly good. every time she shifted her gaze, there he was, a living, breathing vision of raw desire.

her pen stilled. her thighs clenched instinctively as she fought to focus on her words, but her eyes betrayed her every time, locked on him.

“i’m so fucked,” she sighed, watching how his back muscles contracted with every stretch of his arms. she was lucky that his compression tank wasn’t so meshy otherwise those red scratches all over his back would be on display for everyone and they’d know exactly why joe was a few minutes late to the meeting this morning. oh, and tee & ja’marr would never let him hear the end of it since joe was mr. discipline for those two and their um…personal endeavors. 

anyway, one thing that always did it for her, was that black compression tank. and joe knew what he was doing when he put that on in the locker room. since it was bring your girlfriend to work day for him, he thought that he should have a little fun with it since she wanted some…inspiration. 

she barely concentrated on writing the song for the rest of practice since she was too busy practically eye-fucking him in front of everyone. she was lucky that none of the coaches saw, but some of the female PT’s definitely were giggling in the corner. 

it’s not her fault that joe is literally the hottest man to ever exist. like, scientifically speaking. broad shoulders, strong jaw, those annoyingly perfect hands that look just as good gripping a football as they do gripping her waist. and don’t even get her started on the way his veins pop when he’s focused—it's actually cruel.  

it’s not her fault that every time he walks into a room, she momentarily forgets how to function. that her brain short-circuits whenever he wears that damn black compression shirt. that watching him lace up his cleats is somehow the most intimate, most unfairly attractive thing she’s ever witnessed.  

she is so down bad. (girl, get off the floor)

it must have been his luck, or the way he felt her stare, because as soon as practice ended, he was on her—storming over like a tidal wave, hardly giving her a chance to shut her notebook before his fingers curled firmly around her wrist.

“come with me,” he commanded in a low, rough tone that tolerated no argument.

he led her down the hallway, past empty locker rooms since he was the first one to rush out of the facility, until they slipped into a storage closet where the door clicked shut behind them. in the dim light, with the hum of players filing into the locker rooms outside, he pinned her against the cool metal wall. “you think i didn’t see you out there?” he smirked, his voice a mix of teasing and urgent need as his fingers slipped beneath her top, tracing the sensitive curve of her spine. “watching me like that? biting your lip, not even hiding that look—you were thinking about me fucking you right here, weren’t you?”.

heat pooled low in her stomach, and her breath hitched as he nestled a firm thigh between hers, the pressure igniting a desperate whimper from deep within. “joe–,” she began, voice trembling from her fear of being caught but also from the pleasure in her veins.

“nah,” he cut her off with a kiss, his hands roaming lower, slipping beneath the waistband of her leggings. “you don’t get to play innocent now,”.

her fingers dug into his shoulders as he captured her lips in a searing kiss—hot, insistent, his tongue exploring as if he’d been starving for her all day. his hands moved over her body with a possessive urgency, tugging her closer, pulling moans from her even as he tried to stifle them by pressing his hand gently against her mouth, but every so often a repressed sound betrayed her desire.

“this what you wanted, baby?” he rasped against her lips, his touch speaking louder than words as he cupped her through her soaked panties, the heat between them intensifying with each slow movement. “you were writing your little songs, getting all worked up watching me, weren’t you?”.

“joe, please,” she gasped, her body arching into him, every nerve ending on fire, aching for his touch. 

he chuckled, his hand slipping with expert precision until he was teasing her, a finger sliding inside her, then another, his thumb circling her clit in a way that made her gasp and squirm. “joe, someone will hear,” she sighed, pushing her head forward to rest on his shoulder.

“then just be quiet, love,” he murmured softly against the shell of her ear, his voice a blend of tenderness and raw desire. “i know you have a hard time with that, but you can do it for me, right?”, 

her response was a desperate, muffled moan as she grounds herself against his hand, the heat and friction overwhelming her senses, making her crave more of him, more of every touch.

joe groaned softly, his breath hot against her ear as he worked her open with slow, deliberate strokes of his fingers, teasing her until she was trembling against him. “you feel that? so fucking wet for me,” he murmured, his voice rough but quiet, mindful of the footsteps echoing outside the storage closet.

she whimpered, her nails digging into his arms, desperate for more, for him. “joey, please–," she whined again, only for him to silence her with a deep kiss, swallowing her needy sounds as he slipped his fingers out and replaced them with the thick, aching length of him.

a strangled gasp left her lips as he pushed in, stretching her inch by inch, the delicious burn sending white-hot pleasure spiraling through her. he cursed under his breath, gripping her hips as he bottomed out, his forehead resting against hers. “fuck, baby. you take me so good,”.

she clenched around him involuntarily, making him shudder, his control hanging by a thread. he pulled back and thrust into her again, slow at first, savoring the way her body molded around him, then faster, harder, the force of each movement slamming her against the cool metal wall.

she bit down on her lip, trying—failing—to stifle the moans threatening to spill from her mouth. the risk of being caught only heightened everything, made the sharp snap of his hips, the relentless press of his body against hers, even more intoxicating. “joe…ngph…please. fuck– you feel so good,”. 

joe gritted his teeth, one large hand covering her mouth as he thrust deep, his other arm bracing her against him. “shh, baby,” he panted, though he was barely able to keep quiet himself, his breath ragged, his grunts low and strained. “you gotta be quiet or this will be over faster than we want,”.

but how could she? when he was pounding into her like this—desperate, relentless, making her toes curl and her knees shake? when his cock filled her so perfectly, dragged against every sensitive spot inside her, made her see stars behind her eyelids?

her muffled cries vibrated against his palm, her body tightening around him, her release building fast and hard. he felt it, cursed under his breath, and doubled down—his fingers slipping between them, finding her clit, rubbing quick, precise circles that had her squirming in his hold.

“c’mon,” he urged, his lips brushing her temple, voice raspy with restraint. “i got you, baby. let go,”.

and she did—her climax crashing over her in hot, shuddering waves, her body convulsing, her nails clawing at his sweat-slicked skin as she trembled apart in his arms. “j..joe, oh fuck,” she whispered, trying so damn hard to keep it together.

joe groaned, barely holding on as she pulsed around him, her tight, wet heat milking him for everything he had. he slammed into her one last time, burying himself deep, his release hitting him hard, leaving him breathless as he spilled inside her.

for a long moment, they stayed pressed together, their heaving chests rising and falling in sync, their bodies still locked in place as they came down from their high.

his breath was still ragged, his body still pressed against hers as the aftershocks of their release settled between them. his forehead dropped to her shoulder, lips brushing over the damp skin of her neck, placing lazy, lingering kisses there.  “jesus,” he muttered, voice still thick with pleasure, a breathless chuckle escaping him. “you are trouble,”. 

she let out a soft, breathy laugh, her fingers slipping into his damp hair, scratching gently at his scalp. “i think you’ll survive. you’re my big strong man, you got it,”.  

he lifted his head just enough to look at her, his lips curving into that boyish grin that made her stomach flip. “barely,”.  

he kissed her then, slow and deep, his lips soft, worshipping, like he had all the time in the world. like his teammates weren’t wondering where the hell you two went. it was such a contrast from the way he’d just had her, rough and desperate—like he couldn’t get enough. now, he kissed her like he never wanted to stop.  

“so,” he murmured against her lips, nudging his nose against hers. “was that inspiring enough for you?”.

she giggled, nipping at his bottom lip. “maybeeee,”.  

his hands tightened on her waist, pulling her impossibly closer. “maybe?”.

she shrugged, playful. “i don’t know, i might need another round to really be sure. still some details to flesh out,”.  

he groaned, dropping his head against her shoulder with a dramatic sigh. “you’re gonna be the death of me,”.  

“but what a way to go, right?”.

he laughed, shaking his head as he kissed her again, all soft and sweet, like he was trying to memorize the shape of her lips. “yeah, baby,” he whispered, smiling against her mouth. “what a way to go,”. 

[emmiesoverthemoon]

⭑ come back to me

Pairing: g-dragon/ kwon jiyong x reader

Word Count: 4,550

Summary: Three years after you left your ex-boyfriend after he insulted your small modelling career, you reunite at a prestigious annual fashion gala.

Tags: second chance, hurt/comfort, slight angst, happy ending, exes-to-soon-to-be-lovers

cross posted on ao3 here

Today, you are one of the biggest names in the fashion industry, known for your beautifully authentic and original image that deserves the largest frame in an art gallery, the centre point on a stage, the brightest on a runway. Your confidence is effortless, your alluring demeanour sparked inspiration in many brands, designers, and agencies. You are the world’s muse, and clothing garments are their medium, created perfectly for you with intentions of highlighting and enhancing your natural elegance and grace.

No matter how dim a room’s lighting scheme could be, Jiyong could always spot you in a crowd. To him, your spectacular warm, inviting glow reflected upon any surroundings and ensured that any space you were to enter became infinitely more beautiful. Selfishly, all he wanted to do was bask in your luminescence and indulge himself into you, worshipping you as if you were a deity, deeming him fortunate enough for you to call his very name. He once did indulge himself, and held this to be his most favoured hobby, but he had ripped himself away from participating. He had some regrets, but some much, much larger than others.

The one that lay the heaviest on his conscious was you.

You, the one he once had the honour of calling his, and if he didn’t screw it up, he still would hold it close. You both had been an item for three years, the public being blissfully unaware of your relationship, as Jiyong knew how ruthlessly critical a portion the internet could be toward his potential suitors. He strove to keep you to himself; his sweet sweet little secret.

Of course, knowing the circumstances of his fame and career, you were okay with this. Naturally, however, you did yearn to be able to be a ‘normal’ couple; to be able to go out to dates, to hold hands in public, hell, even to just be able to leave the house together. But you never held him as responsible for your animosity towards the prying eyes of the media. You knew it was not his choice.

What was his choice, on the other hand, was how tightly he held the reins of his pride. Jiyong was a prideful man, he had every right to be, considering his achievements and successes. When you both were together, you were building yourself into the famous model you are today—attending as many castings as your manager could book you, walking as many shows varying in size as your heels could carry you, etc.—and obviously you were not as globally recognised as Jiyong. And on one evening, he made it apparent that he knew it well.

“Because you aren’t enough out there, unlike me. To them, I am leagues beyond you. I can’t have my image tainted with that."

The words sliced through your mind, each syllable lingering, replaying over and over. The weight of them felt suffocating, a stark contrast to the pleasant evening you had just shared moments ago. Not long ago, the two of you were laughing over dinner in his expansive, dimly lit home, talking about an upcoming gala. Jiyong had been invited for yet another year to one of the most exclusive fashion industry events, a cocktail affair where the names everyone recognizes congregate like icons in their own right. Your manager had miraculously secured you an invite—your first time attending. Your excitement was palpable, but so were your nerves.

This wasn’t just another party. This was your debut among the greats—the designers, the supermodels, the editors, all the ones whose names spark a fire in every aspirant’s chest. Your chance to cement yourself amongst your idols as someone who deserves their place alongside them. You were already second-guessing your wardrobe choice, wondering if your impression would hold up among legends. And the thought of possibly being seen with him, Jiyong, the elusive industry titan who you had been quietly involved with, made the evening feel like a balancing act. A part of you wanted to break the silence, make things public, even if just with a casual greeting, so that you could stop pretending in front of the world. But when you brought it up, Jiyong immediately dismissed the idea, his tone heavy with disdain.

A simple suggestion from you, one that felt innocent enough—a “meeting for the first time” in front of the cameras—was met with cold, condescending logic. “It would raise suspicions,” he had said dismissively. You tried to explain, to assure him that it would be harmless, a natural first step toward unveiling your relationship. But he wouldn’t hear it. “You” weren’t ready, “he” wasn’t ready—“the world” wasn’t ready, according to him.

And then, the words tumbled out of his mouth like a heavy, painful truth: “Because you aren’t enough out there unlike me. To them, I am leagues beyond you. I can’t have my image tainted with that."

The sting of his declaration hit you like a physical blow. You could feel your chest tighten, the air in your lungs suddenly too thick to inhale. In an instant, you stood up from the table, your chair scraping loudly against the floor, the echoes of the sudden movement cutting through the thick, glossy silence of the room. You didn’t look back. You grabbed your purse, hands trembling slightly as you made for the door. Every step you took toward the exit was a battle against the burning, threatening tears that hovered just behind your eyes. But you would not let him see you break—not now, not ever. His words had revealed something you couldn’t ignore: he had made his opinion clear, and it wasn’t one you could reconcile. You were beneath him. And you refused to let that stand.

Jiyong called after you, his voice rising, a mixture of immediate regret and desperation. "I didn’t mean it that way," he tried, but the excuses came too late. "I didn’t word it right." He sounded pitiful, but you weren’t interested in his explanation. You had heard everything you needed to.

The door slammed behind you, cutting off his voice.

You didn’t hesitate. The last words you spoke to him echoed in the cool night air: “I’m sorry that I’m not good enough for your pathetic ego. Go find someone more famous than me who can knock you down a peg.”

That was the last time you saw or heard Jiyong. And for three years, you pushed the memory of him away. But tonight, as the gala approaches again, you find yourself standing on the cusp of another year, another invitation, another flight from Korea to Paris in anticipation. The past feels so distant now, but the thoughts of him, of that night, have a strange way of creeping back into your mind.

The gala is everything you’ve come to expect from a night like this—elegance woven into every moment, a sense of timeless luxury that settles over the room like a soft velvet curtain. The ballroom is vast, the ceiling high, adorned with grand crystal chandeliers that catch the light and scatter it in soft, sparkling patterns across the polished marble floors. There’s a gentle hum of conversations, laced with laughter, punctuated by the clink of champagne glasses. The air is fragrant with an intoxicating mix of expensive perfumes, floral arrangements, and the ever-present scent of Parisian sophistication. Soft jazz plays in the background, its notes curling through the air, blending perfectly with the low murmur of voices. The walls are draped in opulent fabric, gold accents framing the large windows that offer a glimpse of the twinkling stars against the night sky draped as a veil, casting cool night air over the city.

As you glide through the room, it’s as though the very space parts for you. Your presence is magnetic, not because of a need for attention but because it’s undeniable. You've been here before, after all—many times now. You’ve grown accustomed to this world, not as an outsider, but as one of its beloved stars. Fashion knows you well, adores you, and respects you. You are a staple at these events, not just because of your work but because of the way you carry yourself: effortlessly divine and poised. There's a sense of ease about you tonight, a calm under the bright lights and all the eyes that flicker toward you as you pass. Your gown, a delicate yet striking creation of silk, catching the light with every step. It moves with you, flowing like liquid metal, the intricate beading of the fabric shimmering like constellations scattered across the dress. You look flawless—radiant, understated, yet undeniably captivating.

The whispers of admiration follow you as you walk, but there’s no need for words to validate your presence; your confidence speaks volumes. Designers, photographers, models, and influencers all acknowledge you, whether with a simple nod or a quiet compliment. To them, you are more than just a face—they know the hard work, the hours of preparation, the dedication you pour into your craft. You’ve earned your place here, not by chance, but by sheer, unmatched talent and authenticity. And as you move further into the crowd, you are greeted by those who have become familiar faces—the editors, the stylists, the creatives who have watched your journey unfold and who continue to champion you. Tonight, as always, you are the epitome of elegance, the pulse of this glamorous world that thrives on beauty, ambition, and artistry. There’s a quiet power that radiates from you, a reminder that in a room full of luminaries, it is your presence that lingers longest in their minds.

Your heart skips a moment when you catch the sound of a strikingly familiar laugh from across the room. A sweet jingle the back of your mind yearned to hear over and over again, despite the hurt. Although it had been approximately three years since you left Jiyong’s home that night, a small part of you still missed him. You were unsure if you truly missed him, or if it was the idea of what your relationship was; his effect on you, the way he spoke to you, the way he knew exactly where to touch to have your eyes widening and your heart racing. You often wondered if your mind was trapped in a prison cell of nostalgic wonder, constantly torturing you with flashbacks to moments you once held dear.

You let your eyes gracefully and subtly wander across the room, trying to spot the source of the laugh. Once you spotted him, you subconsciously let out a small flinch; you caught him staring back at you. An unreadable expression was scrawled across his smooth complexion, trailing across your face, your neck, and down your figure as he soaked in the view he yearned to see the moment you left that night.

Your heart began to race—not pleasantly, no, alarmingly, the heightened walls of the ballroom begun to constrict around you, suddenly envisioning everything becoming a whole lot warmer, tighter. Once over yonder you would dream for this warm, cozy feeling, for caterpillars to deem your stomach a safe haven for them to cocoon into beautiful butterflies, fluttering and fuelling the blood to rush to your cheeks, creating a beautiful crimson hue that he adored seeing you clad in, knowing he was the reason for its existence in the first place. But now, the warmth was smothering, asphyxiating.

You were the first to break eye contact, your eyes nervous—no; anxious and stressed. The weight of his focus on you was too suffocating, too overwhelming, just too much to handle for even a second longer. You needed an escape, a sanctuary where you can breathe freely for god’s sake. The lurching of your heart into your trachea, the trembling travelling from inside your bones through to your intrinsic muscles of the hand, which expressed exteriorly through the rattle of your fingertips, were symptoms of him—his charisma and magnetism, ones that you needed to experience not a single moment more.

You huffed, a futile attempt to alleviate some of the discomfort in your chest and lungs. You needed to get out of this room before it closed in and swallowed you whole.

You found yourself drawn to the balcony which was situated across a restaurant, playing melodic jazz music, as you gaze to the stars, a melodic saxophone is there to provide a tune rich with passion and humanity to sway along to. You had expected Jiyong to be present once again, he was the G-Dragon, you were just foolish in assuming that the ballroom would be full enough to avoid his attention.

Unfortunately, this balcony-made-haven was not as safe as you might have assumed. Your trance of relaxation with the woodwind instrument snapped, your bubble burst by the sound of a door sliding open and closed. Damn you for assuming you’d be safe.

Jiyong steps out onto the balcony, his presence immediate, like a gust of wind before the storm. You decide to give him a glance over your shoulder, and suddenly you can’t help but feel the familiar heat return, the way his eyes have a way of pulling you in despite your best efforts. Jiyong’s small grin is knowing, enticing, a familiar curve of his lips that used to be your favorite sight in the world, and your favourite place to touch with your own cheesy smile. Used to be.

“I knew you’d love the view from here,” he says, his voice like a silk thread that winds around you, pulling tighter with every word. “You would always tell me that a clear view of the night’s sky could draw you out of anywhere.”

You don’t answer right away. Instead, you turn to gaze at the bustling townspeople below, feeling the weight of the moment. Your chest tightens. You want to breathe in the night air, let it fill you and wash away the old memories, the ones of warmth and tenderness that feel so distant now. But he won’t let you have that peace.

“Still alive up there?” Although his words are light and hold no room for depth, his words drift toward you like his old cigarette smoke, curling, adhesive, and insistent. An invitation for conversation you did not want to open.

You force yourself to focus on the glow of the Eiffel Tower, the steady pulse of the lights from across the Seine. It’s easier than meeting his gaze, easier than acknowledging the quiet storm stirring between the two of you. You couldn’t believe your ears; after all this time with no attempt to contact you with an apology, he opened your first conversation with him with fallacious teasing.

“I’m silent for a reason, take a hint,” you say, intending to remain sharp, but the words are too soft, too hesitant. You don’t want to give him that satisfaction, but your heart betrays you in the quietest of ways.

Jiyong steps closer, the heat of his body seeping into the cool night, his scent—familiar and dangerous—wrapping itself around you. The tension crackles in the air like static before a lightning strike.

“Don’t do that,” he murmurs, his voice lowering to a dangerous level, the kind that still sends a shiver down your spine. “Don’t pretend you’re unaffected by me.”

His fingers brush against your arm, just enough to remind you of how well he knows the geography of your body. You swallow, biting your lip to keep the words in check. You feel your heart beating, begging you to fall back into him, but you know better. You cannot betray yourself like this.

“I’m not pretending,” you say again, but this time the words are hollow, thin, as if the very act of saying them is a lie.

He moves closer still, the space between you shrinking until you can feel the warmth of his breath on your neck, stirring the tendrils of your hair you spent so long to perfect. You can almost hear the beat of your pulse in your ears, the thrum of your blood, and you hate how it betrays you.

“I don’t want this,” you say, the words carrying edge now, cutting through the fog of memories that cloud your thoughts. “I don’t want that... pain from us.”

The words hang in the air, heavy, like the scent of rain before the downpour. He doesn’t move, doesn’t even blink, his eyes fixed on you as though he’s searching for something. A crack. A softening. A moment when he can slip back in.

“You don’t mean that,” he says, and it’s not a question. It’s a statement, as if he knows you better than you know yourself.

You turn away, arms folding across your chest as though that could shield you from him. But it doesn’t. It never has. The tightness in your throat threatens to spill over, but you won’t let him see. You won’t let him win.

The balcony creaks underfoot as he steps closer again, his hand brushing against the railing as if searching for something solid to hold onto. You know the feeling. You’re both teetering on the edge, balanced precariously between what was and what will never be again.

“You’re still angry,” he says, his voice a low hum now, vibrating in the space between you. “You’re still upset that I... said that to you. That I caused us to fall apart.”

You choose not to indulge him with your gaze, but you can feel his gaze like a weight on your back, pulling you toward him. You don’t want to talk about it. Not now, not here, not with him. But you can’t ignore the truth in his words.

“I’m angry because you didn’t care,” you finally say, your voice barely above a whisper, as though the confession would break you if it were louder. “You didn’t bother to try to reach out to me; I would’ve answered my phone, you should’ve known be better than that. You let me go without a fight.”

His breath hitches, a moment of surprise before he steps even closer, too close now, his body pressing into yours like an immovable force.

“I’m still fighting,” he murmurs, the words brushing the shell of your ear, trying to engrave a promise in your eardrum.

You shake your head, pulling away, forcing space between you. But the crack in your voice betrays you. “It’s too late for that.”

And for a moment, the world seems to still. The city below, the hum of voices inside, the thrum of the night—it all fades into the distance. All that’s left is you and him, tangled in the past, standing on a precipice, neither one of you willing to take the step toward what might come next.

He watches you closely, his eyes darkened by something unspoken, a regret buried beneath the surface, and for a split second, you almost think he’s not the man you left behind. But then he smiles, a slow, arc of his lips that makes your stomach twist.

He says nothing, but slowly raises his arm to brush against your waist. Slowly enough so that if you so pleased, you could move away, move him away. He would respect that.

But you let it happen.

“Tell me to stop, and I will.” He whispered, he’s close enough that you can feel the teasing, sensual tone licking against the slope of your neck where it meets with the base of your ear, reverberating through your head. He chuckles, his voice lowering, dripping with seductive teasing, forming a warm pit form in your stomach, “That is, if you want me to.”

You want to, oh god, you want to give in. You know he’s right, you were always one to give in to him; you were melting to fall right back into in his hands, and you knew it, he knew it. But instead, you don’t respond. You look out over the city once more, the lights shimmering beneath the weight of your silence. You wonder how much longer you can pretend that you’re not still tangled in the wreckage of everything you once had.

Juxtaposing your desires, you are a stubborn woman, and you need him to be aware of the pain he inflicted before he can be let in so easily. You suck in a deep breath, and your heels take one small, rushed step away.

“You know what?” you say, your voice cutting through the tension like a knife. “I’m tired of you pretending like you didn’t hurt me. You really think you can just waltz back into my life because you flash that damn grin and speak like that to me in that damn voice? Well, guess what, it’s not working anymore.”

He opens his mouth, but you don’t let him get a word in. You’re not finished.

“You said I wasn’t enough for you. And you didn’t just insult me verbally—you destroyed everything I thought we had. You invalidated and belittled everything I had worked toward at that point. Every single thing you said, every promise you made? It faded to nothing. You think you can apologize your way back in with some pitiful little look in your eyes? I’m not buying it.”

The words pour out of you, each one drenched in the venom of old wounds. You can feel the heat in your chest, the fire that’s been simmering for so long now rising to your throat. It’s so much easier to be angry than to be hurt, so much easier to tear him down than let him see how much he’s broken you.

“You don’t get to walk in here, after how high I have built myself, acting like I’m just supposed to forgive you, to fall for your charm. Do you think I’m naïve?”

There’s a moment of silence, and you take a second step back, finally meeting his eyes. But you see something you didn’t expect—something like regret, something deeper than just his usual smugness. And it stops you in your tracks.

“I’m not done,” you say, more quietly now, the edge of your anger still sharp but softer. “But I’ll tell you one thing—you don’t get me back with your words. Not with any of…” You wave your arms around, gesturing to the air between you. “This. You have to earn me back. You have to earn my trust again. And I don’t even know if I’ll let you. So, no, you don’t get to come back into my life that easily.”

You’re not prepared for the way your voice falters then, how it cracks and slips as you finish the last sentence. You hadn’t meant to break, not like this, but now that the anger is gone, the sadness rushes in. You don’t even try to hide it as the tears start to fall, hot and furious, blurring your vision. Your chest tightens, the lump in your throat suffocating you.

And there he is, standing in front of you—his eyes no longer filled with that arrogant glint, but something more raw, something that makes your heart stutter in a way you haven’t felt in months. Small tears brimming his eyes as well, he reaches out, his hand tentative at first, like he’s afraid you’ll pull away.

You don’t.

Jiyong’s hand lands on your arm, and the sensation of it feels like a remedy on a burn. He offers an embrace to soothe you, and you impulsively fall into him, not allowing your mind a chance take the wheel. You despise yourself for needing him like this.

“I was an idiot,” he says, his voice low, not the usual playful tone but something real, something genuine. “I know I hurt you. I know I hurt us. I wasn’t fair to you, and I can’t change that. I can’t take back the things I did, the things I said, but I am sorry. More than I could ever say. And I’ll keep saying it until you believe me, if that’s what it takes.”

You blink, a part of you wanting to reject it, to slap away the apology and keep holding onto your anger. But another part of you—the part that’s still so so tired—wants to believe him.

“You broke me. I trusted you, and you just let me leave. A single call would have been better than silence. I felt like you quickly moved on without even caring what your words did to me,” you softly cried, the words tasting bitter on your tongue.

He steps closer, his hand still warm on your arm, and you don’t pull away, “I know. And I’m so, so sorry. I never meant to hurt you. I was a coward. I was selfish. And I hurt the one person I never should’ve hurt.”

You swallow, another sob catching in your throat. You didn’t expect this. You didn’t expect him to apologise like this, so carefully, so thoughtfully. You didn’t expect him to look at you like he was the one who needed to heal. It does something to you, something you don’t know how to handle.

“I don’t know if I can ever trust you again,” you whisper, shaking your head. “I don’t know if I can forget how easily you let me go, after such a long time.”

He nods, his gaze unwavering. “I don’t deserve that trust, not yet. But I will work every single day to earn it. I’ll show you, if you’ll let me. I’ll earn your heart again. Not because I think I deserve it, but because I want to. Because I’m sorry—and I’ll show you that I can be the man you deserve.”

You sniff, gently wiling at your face, angry at yourself for letting your guard down, for feeling even the smallest glimmer of hope. But that’s the thing with him—he has a way of making you believe in something, even when you were sure you’ve shut that door and thrown away the key.

“You’ve got a long way to go,” you say, voice hoarse, but there’s something in it that feels like forgiveness. Not full forgiveness, not yet. But maybe—just maybe maybe it’s a start.

“I know, my love. I know,” his voice was no louder than a whisper, allowing you to fill space with your thoughts over his. He presses his lips against your forehead, which sends nostalgic sparks from the crown of your head, all the way through your torso and limbs, then inside your chest, electrifying your heart.

You remain in his arms for a moment longer, the weight of it all pressing in. You don’t say anything more. You don’t have to. The words, the apology, the admission—they hang between you like a fragile thread, and for the first time in a long time, you feel a sliver of something you thought was long gone.

Maybe you can forgive him. Maybe you can let him back in. But not now. Not yet. That is not something that can happen in just one night.

And for the first time in three years, you feel something more than anger. You feel hope—faint, fragile, but still there.

hey everyone! this is my first fic here! so i hope you like it! i was a bit nervous to post this :)

if there is anything specific youd like from me please don’t hesitate to let me know and i’ll do my best! :3

[joelmillerisapunk]

💥🔥 SCREAMING. CRYING. THROWING UP. 🔥💥

I don’t think you understand how dangerously good this is. The tension. The dynamic. The way every line is dripping with raw intensity and undeniable chemistry. This isn’t just smut—this is a whole experience.

Lucien?? Lucien has me in a CHOKEHOLD. The way he knows what she needs, the way he gives it to her without question, without hesitation. How he understands that this isn’t about love—it’s about something deeper, something darker, something only he can satisfy. And god, does he satisfy.

And the writing?? Absolutely filthy in the best possible way. The details, the pacing, the push and pull of dominance and surrender—I need this BURNED into my brain. The teasing? The control? The absolute wreckage he leaves behind? I’m ascending.

And that ending. The cigarette. The quiet. The unspoken longing. “Till next time.” OH. MY. GOD. This is the kind of dynamic that makes me feral.

I want to personally thank you for ruining me. I’ll never recover. 🔥🔥🔥

Some of my favorite parts down below because honestly this whole thing set me on fire:

ohhh you calling me out now? lmao “See, baby? That's your problem, you always push people away. You're scared to be loved. And that's why you always call me.” WAHHHHH  “You think that? But who's gonna love you like I do, baby?”“And how do you love me?”“My way,” he said, coming closer to you, a cigarette resting behind his ear. This motherfucker was the hottest man you knew. The biggest red flag you’d ever met. OMFG IM SCREAMING cause same for him raw all the way “No. You’re the only dick that I fuck raw.” OH THIS IS DELICIOUS “Come on baby, let me in,” he said against your lips, his familiar tobacco breath invading your nostrils a little more. “And I'm not talking about your cunt, she’s already droolin’, right?”

holy fuckkkkk this man is hotter than lava “Come on, baby. I’ve been thinking about fucking your mouth since you called me,” he said, slowly jacking his thick cock with his fist, his stare full of lust. 

mhmm yes chains please two chains resting at the bottom of his neck. 

im fucking dizzy He remained standing for a few moments, looking at you like you were the most beautiful woman in the world. His hard cock pointed towards the ceiling, slowly jacking off again after spitting into his palm. Even though the precum was flowing from his reddened slit.

smoking bad men smoking like this HOT HOT HOT He was so good that sometimes he would make you come in less time than it took you to finish your cig. Then he’d grab it from your trembling fingers to take a drag while you were still trying to catch your breath. 

Shameless

3k1 | Lucien de Leon x fem reader | ao3 | masterlist

Summary: you ask Lucien to come over and he does exactly what you need him to Warnings: 18+ mdni. Oral (f/m), size kink, cigarettes, rimming, ass play, piv, creampie, pet names (baby, baby girl), reader has no specific physical descriptions but wears a dress

a/n:  Thank you for the inspo @gothcsz 🙏❤️ (tumblr free Kat FFS§§§) Thank you @aurorawritestoescape for beta-ing and for everything, ily so, so much 🥹💕 @/saradika-graphics for the dividers 🙏

“Come on baby, don't play like this now,” he said, full of self-confidence, leaning against the wall in front of your door in his stupid shirt. The mountain of shit he had been dragging behind him for years had never damage his self-esteem.

“I don’t know why I keep calling you,” you said, bitter and unfair towards him. “Every time I regret it. Before or after I fuck you.”

“Mmmm… So you regret it now? You want me to leave? Ok,” he added, turning around, before you could even answer.

“Fuck, wait, Lucien!”

He didn't hide his smile as he turned around. 

“See, baby? That's your problem, you always push people away. You're scared to be loved. And that's why you always call me.”

“Yeah, right. And you’re perfect for that, because love’s not your thing.”

He leaned against the wall again, a soft smile on his lips.

 “You think that? But who's gonna love you like I do, baby?”

“And how do you love me?”

“My way,” he said, coming closer to you, a cigarette resting behind his ear. This motherfucker was the hottest man you knew. The biggest red flag you’d ever met.

“You always say you wanna be good but you keep begging me to come over,” he said, moving closer to you, his face only a few inches away from yours. Damn, you just wanted to kiss him. To fuck him.

“Because no one can touch you like me, that deep,” he added, brushing your lips with his before pulling away.

“I’m not just talking about here,” he said, pointing at  your heart with his finger. “But also here,” he added, grabbing your pussy. “You need me. No one can fuck you like me. That deep, right?”

You swallowed loudly. Fuck, you needed him, deep and rough. He probably saw it in your eyes, but instead of leaning in and kissing you, he grabbed his cigarette and lit it. He smiled as he let the smoke out.

“Come on baby, don't give me that ‘piss off’ look. I’m gonna give you what you want,” he said, pressing his hard cock against the fabric of his black pants and pushing himself against you. He turned the cigarette over to offer it to you, and you took a drag.

“Yeah, whatever,” you said.

“Had some good dicks in the last few weeks?”

“Fucked a few. Can’t say they were that good, though.”

“Awww,” he said dramatically, before adding, “you fucked them raw? Do I have to use a condom, baby?”

“No. You’re the only dick that I fuck raw.”

He chuckled and threw his cigarette on the ground. You rolled your eyes and in two seconds he was fully against you, crushing his lips against yours, his hands cupping your cheeks.

He was never aggressive or possessive, always beautifully sensual and free. No strings attached, and that's exactly what you needed. Someone who wouldn't ask you something you couldn't or wouldn't want to give.

Each time he’d kiss you, each time you’d fuck, you never knew if it was the last time. Didn't know if you'd end up getting bored with him like with everyone else. 

You doubted he would, on the other hand. He was always patient, never seemed to take your mood swings badly. He never said ’no’ to you, even if he knew you just needed to use him, somehow. Even if you were sometimes hard on him. 

He was probably right: he loved you in his own, unconventional way, and that twisted relationship was oddly the most stable part of your life.

“What are you thinking about?” he asked as he kissed your neck, your eyes already rolling to the back of your head just at the feeling of his soft mustache brushing your skin, then his rougher beard that he loved to rub against the soft skin of your neck. Just like he loved to graze it against your inner thighs each time he ate you out.

He straightened up to look at you then licked your lips with the tip of his tongue, your mind suddenly blank.

“Need it bad, huh,” he chuckled. It wasn’t a question. Yeah, you needed it bad, but still, you shrugged.

“Come on baby, let me in,” he said against your lips, his familiar tobacco breath invading your nostrils a little more. “And I'm not talking about your cunt, she’s already droolin’, right?”

You didn’t answer and just pulled away from him to lead the way inside your house, to the dining room. You could feel his eyes fixed on your ass. You didn't even have to sway your hips to know he'd follow you anywhere at that moment.

He pushed the front door behind him, quickening his pace to be right behind you and caress the roundness of your ass before seizing your hips to make you stop.

“Mmmm, baby… I never get enough of this body,” he murmured in your ear, his hard cock against you. You wanted to say something clever, or at least something with your usual “whatever” attitude, but his touch was overwhelming you.

He slid his hands up to your breasts and cupped them sensually, his nose against your hair, he breathed it in as he said, “damn you’re so hot,” almost to himself. 

He squeezed your breasts slightly, perfectly, then pulled down your neckline, freeing your nipples swollen by desire. His hand slithered down your spine to your ass and then he grabbed his bulge.

“Shit, I’m so fucking hard,” he said, his voice not as playful as usual. “Turn around baby,” he added. You did as he asked, trying to get your composure back as you looked up at him.

He cupped your tits again and took a nipple in his mouth. He sucked and licked it, making you whine “shit” softly, as you ran your fingers in his hair and pressed his face against your skin. He chuckled, so sure of himself, that he was even hotter than a second before, and sucked your other nipple. He coated it with his saliva then peppered your chest with kisses, up towards your neck and finally your lips, his tongue quickly pushed through yours, while he grabbed the hem of your short dress then pulled it over your head. He was in a rush and your head was dizzy.

His hands were rubbing your body as if he didn't know what to touch or where to stop, but he finally covered your pussy with his full hand, his fingers brushing the wet garment.

“Mmm yeah…” he said, and you didn’t take your eyes off him as he unbuttoned his shirt then freed his hard cock from his pants. The most gorgeous cock you'd ever seen, with a fat tip and a large vein that you loved to roll under your tongue.

“Come on, baby. I’ve been thinking about fucking your mouth since you called me,” he said, slowly jacking his thick cock with his fist, his stare full of lust. 

He was insanely beautiful and hot as hell, with his shirt open over his broad chest, two chains resting at the bottom of his neck. 

“Yeah? Well I’ve been thinking about cumming in yours since I called you,” you replied.

“Damn, you’re gonna kill me one day, you know that?” he smiled. 

“Mmm… clothes off, red flag guy,” you told him, then sat on the couch, feet firmly planted on the ground, legs spread. Shameless. 

Panties still on, you knew he loved to remove them himself. 

“And light me a cigarette, big boy, will you?”

You were in charge again. He was letting you be. 

A silent game between the two of you with rules that never needed to be stated.

He took his pack out of his shirt pocket and lit a cigarette then handed it to you, letting the smoke escape from him towards you. Then he undressed, slowly and sensually.

You watched him getting naked in front of you, dragging on your cigarette from time to time, arm resting along the backrest. He always made you feel safe, free, powerful.

He remained standing for a few moments, looking at you like you were the most beautiful woman in the world. His hard cock pointed towards the ceiling, slowly jacking off again after spitting into his palm. Even though the precum was flowing from his reddened slit.

He knelt down and placed his hands on your knees before moving up the inside of your thighs, the soft rub making you shiver. When he grabbed the hem of your panties, you lifted your hips to help him to pull them down slowly, revealing your glistening pussy and the butt plug you had inserted just before he arrived.

“Shit, baby…” his husky voice and eyes full of desire made you drool a little more. He swallowed hard, his Adam's apple bobbing in his throat.

“Fuck… Take a drag, baby,” he asked, unable to take his eyes off your two holes. He spread your thighs wider by pushing on them with his shoulders. You exhaled the blue smoke slowly, looking down at him, kneeling between your thighs. So broad, so strong, but still at your knees, leaving you in full control of your femininity. It made him even more beautiful, even more attractive, even more sensual. He grabbed one of your thighs and kissed the sensitive skin, then placed it on his shoulder.

“Fuck you're so hot. A true free spirit, aren't you?”

He didn't let you answer and leaned down, running his nose up your folds. He growled as he licked them with the tip of his tongue, then moved away slightly to look at your cunt and ass.

He seized the plug and pulled on it slightly, until the widest part reached your ring, making you moan.

“Shit,” he said, unable to say more as he watched your muscle tighten every time the metal spread it apart.

“You always let them go down on you?” he asked, moving the plug deliciously back and forth, before sticking his tongue into your wet cunt. You let your head fall back against the back of the couch. He had always been a really good fuck, but he always ate you out divinely well, leaving you breathless as soon as he dived in.

“Mmm?” he insisted.

“Shit… you’re the jealous type now?” you pantered.

“No. It turns me on to think about it,” he answered, grabbing one of your breasts with his hands.

“Damn, Lucien you're twisted…” you whimpered. “Not always… shit… I… not all men are good at it,” you stammered. 

He chuckled, so sure of himself, pushing a finger into your cunt already stuffed by his tongue. It was like he was all over your body, boobs, pussy and ass, and it was intoxicating.

“I think you forgot about your cig, baby,” he said, teasing. He wasn't one of those men. Of course he wasn't. He was so good at this. 

You crushed the cigarette in the ashtray by the armrest. He was so good that sometimes he would make you come in less time than it took you to finish your cig. Then he’d grab it from your trembling fingers to take a drag while you were still trying to catch your breath. 

His hand left your tit to press your hip against the sofa and he pushed his tongue into your drooling hole. 

“Gonna come for me? Yeah, you're gonna come for me. Soak my face, baby girl.”

You used him to get off, rubbing yourself against his nose, hands tight on his head, thighs spread as wide as possible, giving him full access to your core. You were so aroused that some of your wetness was leaking down to the plug, making it even easier for him to fuck you with it.

“Lucien,” you whined. His hand tightened on your flesh, letting you use him like you needed until you came in his mouth.

He pushed two fingers in your cunt and looked the way your body was squeezing his thick digits pumping your cunt and the plug, until it finally stopped. 

He pushed the metal all the way in then stood up and brushed your cheek as you looked up at him and straightened up, his cock inches from your lips. He held it tightly and you licked his shaft from his fingers to his tip, unable to tease him more. He growled when you took him in your mouth, focusing on the tip at first then deeper and deeper, getting your throat used to his width, and your saliva started to flow down his shaft to his fingers. Your hand caressed his balls full of cum.

“Fuck yeah, just like that,” he murmured.

You pushed his hand from his shaft and jerked him off slowly, licking his balls that you could never resist for long. He whimpered when you took one of them in your mouth, the thin skin rolling between your lips. 

“You're so easy, Lucien,” you chuckled. It was your turn to make him fall apart, and you loved it.

“Shit, yeah, I'm easy with this damn mouth,” he agreed. “That’s it baby. Keep licking them.”

You pulled them up then tasted the skin behind them, gaze looking up at him but his eyes were closed, his hands resting on your head.

“You don’t want a cigarette, Lucien?” you bantered, then licked him again from his scrotum to his ass that you teased with the tip of your tongue.

“Fuck… I can barely breathe, no I can’t smoke right now, you little minx,” he whimpered as you took a ball in your mouth. You finally released it with a needy moan. Your core was already filled with warmth again and begging for release. 

“Shit, you need it deep, right? Wanna ride it?” he asked as he held your elbow to get you up.

“No, want you to fuck me.”

“Come here then, baby. All fours. Lemme see that ass.”

You settled and he knelt behind you, rubbing his cock against your soaked folds, before grabbing the plug and pulling on it slightly, making your ring contract instinctively as it was stretching you.

He chuckled, then mocked gently, “that’s cute. As if he doesn’t want to get fucked.” He nestled his fat tip at your sloppy pussy then pushed in, and you stopped breathing for a minute under the feeling of his cock splitting you in two.

“How do you need me, baby? Need me to fix you up for a while, until next time?”

You moaned, feeling him push in your two holes.

“Tell me,” he insisted, filling you with his whole length and brushing against your cervix.

“Yeah, fuck…. Yeah, I need you to fix me.”

“Damn, baby,” he said, pulling out to eat your pussy from behind, and he removed the plug to press his nose against your ass before coming up to lick it.

“Oh god,” you whined, eyes rolling in the back of your head and fists squeezing the sofa cushions. He spat on your ass and watched the saliva run down and slide inside before licking at it, pressing his tongue against it then pushing in. Your ass opened up to let him reach inside and you couldn’t hold back a loud moan as he was lapping at your hole.

He spanked you and focused his tongue on your most private place before grabbing your ass with his two hands. You wanted to beg him to stuff you until he’d fill you with his seed. 

“Lucien, please… Fuck me.”

He straightened up and pressed his tip against your cunt, pushing in slowly to let you feel all of him sliding in.

“Oh, fuck,” you whined.

Leaning on your forearms, you didn't move, letting him thrust into you, filling you so slowly that you could feel the vein of his cock brushing your insides.

“Oh, god, that’s good Lucien, fuck…”

“Yeah? Always takin’ me so good, baby…”

He started to fuck you, his thumb pressed against your ass, growls and moans escaping from his lips. He was watching you contract on his digit as he was filling your two holes. 

“Mmm,” you hummed. “Harder, please,” you whined.

You knew he would do it for you, in the way you needed, even though you knew he would want to take his time, to get you used to him. But he had quickly understood why you called him. Because he would answer your needs, because you were safe with him. Because his cock was so big it was perfect for what you were looking for, to forget everything else. He knew you were scared to be loved, or to love, and didn't want that kind of relationship. That this way of fucking was what you needed. For now anyway, and maybe forever. He always smiled when you called him a red flag, unaware of that game he was still playing for you. He could find it funny, how wrapped he was around your finger, although you didn't even know it. Or maybe you just didn't want to see it.

He was rolling into you, faster than he wanted. Harder than he wanted. Because if it was the only way he could have you, he would never say no. Because he knew you wouldn’t fall for him, and it was probably for the best.

“Fuck, baby… your little cunt is squeezing me so hard… You know I can never say no to you, right?” he asked, sliding his hand down to your clit, eager to make you come. His entire length was pushing in and out, fucking your insides like no one else could. Not as deep, not as wide.

“Make me come, Lucien, please,” you whimpered.

His balls squeezed him painfully, waiting to give you what you wanted. When you came, tightening on his cock so fucking hard, it was enough for him to spit his cum deep into your core while he panted even louder than you, mouth crushed against your shoulder, nibling at it, his weight pushing on your back. You leaned forward and felt his length leave your cunt and his cum flowed when you lay down on the couch, under him. Already feeling so desperately empty.

He leaned towards you and kissed you. He knew you didn't want more, and wouldn't allow more. Didn't want some bullshit proximity.

He sat on the couch, putting your calves on his lap, while you stayed lying there. He lit up a cigarette for you, then another one for him. You smoked them silently until he got up and put his clothes on.

“Till next time?” he asked.

“Till next time,” you replied.

Thank you for reading 🙏

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[ninikrumbs]

This love

pairing: spencer reid x reader. pure fluff. spencer reid is a yearner of the highest order. established relationship. First spencer reid fic, hope I got it right. Summary: After a long and exhausting case, Spencer's feet leads him right to your doorstep. word count: 900 words.

Spencer stared up at your apartment building, specifically at your dark apartment window. Considering how late it was, the streets were silent and the air was crisp. He felt like a stalker, but after such a long and exhausting case, his feet somehow led him straight here. To you.

But it was midnight, you were probably asleep, tired from your own day job so he didn’t wanna disturb you no matter how much he just wanted to melt into your embrace and hear you say his name in that tender way only you knew how.

For now, this was enough. It was enough to have you close by even if you were three floors away. Just the thought of your slumbering form under the warm covers comforted him, chasing away the monsters that often plagued his mind after a case. You had that power over him. Your touch was magic, and your arms a solace. He didn’t believe in any religion, but if there was a God out there, he’d thank him endlessly for sending you his way.

Morgan would most likely tease him for being so pathetic, but he didn't care. In fact he prided himself in how gone he was for you, because how lucky a man could he be to experience this soul consuming type of love.

His gaze never strayed from your window, you blinds swaying slightly from the breeze. Maybe another hour or two, then he’d leave. He’ll definitely see you tomorrow.

“Spence?”

His head snapped to the sound of your voice so quickly, he wouldn’t have been surprised if he heard a crack. There you were under the streetlights,a plastic bag in hand, in your sleep shorts and your-or should he say his oversize hoodie. Your hair was a bit of a mess and there wasn’t trace of makeup on you face. Yet, you were absolutely beautiful and it took it his breath away every time.

It only took him two long strides to get you, strong arms immediately pulling you into his chest. The sigh of relief he let out was palpable, his worries melting away as he breath you in, leaning down to tuck his face into your neck. You drop your plastic bag, and try to hug him back as best as you could in his tight embrace.

Once he was temporarily sated, -because lets be honest, he will never be able to have his fill of you— it could have been minutes or hours, he didn’t know. He pulled back just enough to see your face, one hand caressing your cheek, the other holding you by your waist. “What are you doing outside?”

His tone wasn’t accusatory or demanding, it was soft and gentle, and genuinely curious and worried as to why your walking the streets alone in the middle of the night.

You smile softly, leaning into his touch, amusement dancing in your eyes. “I should be asking you that, Spence.”

“I-” He could feel the blood rush to his ears and cheeks, “-I wanted to see you.”

Smiling cheekily, you gave his forehead a light tap with your pointer finger, “Why didn’t you call me then?”

“I thought you were asleep so I didn’t wanna disturb you.”

You tilt your head, “Yet you came anyway?”

He smiled bashfully, a bit embarrassed that you found out about his stalkish tendencies. “I wanted to be close to you regardless.”

You stared at him in disbelief, “Oh, Spence.”

Standing on you tiptoes, you wrapped you arms around his neck, pulling him close once more. His hands found your waist as he leaned his chin on your shoulder with his eyes fluttering shut.

“Long case?” You whisper softly against his neck. He hums in response.

You ran a hand through his curly locks. “I'm here.”

Those two words made him hold on to you tighter. You were here. And it made a world of difference,

After a moment, you pulled away and grasped his hand, “Lets go inside.”

“Okay.” His eyes land on your plastic bag, finally noticing it. His refined senses don’t seem to work as fast around you. “Did you go to the convenience store?”

You grinned, “Yeah, I couldn’t sleep so I decided to buy some unhealthy convenience store food.”

He felt bad for thinking this, but he could help but be a little happy that you couldn’t sleep.

Once inside your apartment, your eyes traced over Spencer’s relaxed state as he pulled out the contents of your food haul on the kitchen counter, a big comparison to the tension in his body when you saw him standing in front of your building.

“Hey, Spence?”

“Yeah?”His big hazel eyes met yours and your almost forgot what to say.

Making your way to his side, you leaned your head on his shoulder as you intertwined both of your fingers together. His hand almost swallowing yours whole. The sight making you smile. “Next time you wanna see me, just call me, okay?”

“You don’t have to do that.”

You raised your head and looked at him seriously, “You’re right, I don’t, but I want to do this, Spence. Because you have to know, I want to see you just as much as you want to see me. I doesn’t matter what time it is, text me, call me, or throw a rock at my window. Anything works.”

He laughed at the last one, “Throw a rock? Won’t we wake your neighbors?”

“I don’t really care.” Its true, you don’t care because if this man needs you, you will damn be there.

His smile widened into a grin as he leans into you, pressing his forehead onto yours, hands trailing up to caress your warm cheeks. “I hope you know I don’t deserve you.”

You clasped your hands over his, lifting your chin enough to press a chaste kiss on his lightly chapped lips. “For the first time in your life you’re wrong, Dr. Reid. Your the only one who does.”

AN: Obsessed with criminal minds lately, especially our boy genius.

[h8aaz]

❝ 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐢𝐬 𝐚𝐧 𝐨𝐩𝐞𝐧 𝐝𝐨𝐨𝐫 .ᐟ ❞

SUMMARY .ᐟ . . . you're a princess from a nearby kingdom, your family being one of the many that were invited to attend the coronation of the oldest winchester son. the two of you meet for the first time, and your worlds suddenly become brighter.

WARNINGS .ᐟ . . . king!dean + princess!reader . love at first sight . kingdom au? idk . kinda a destined to be/soulmates au . fluff + slight suggestive . sweet dean . sam mentioned . use of (name) .

GABS YAPS .ᐟ . . . happy jensen day!! this is obviously based off the song from frozen bc i recently rewatched the first movie and i still LOVE this song. i couldn't find a gif so enjoy the picture of jensen as king bacchus lol. lowkey loved this so maybe it'll become a small mini series idk! but he won't be a hans, i won't do that to yall, i promiseee 🙏🙏. likes, comments, + reblogs are very appreciated!!

you winced in pain as your helpers pulled the strings of the back of your dress, cinching your waist into the figure of the corset. afterwards, you had gotten your hair and makeup done, all being topped with your tiara being placed on your head.

you and your parents gathered into a carriage, riding to the next kingdom over, being ruled by the winchesters. soon the ride was over and you had found yourself amongst many others in the pews of a church, watching dean winchester hold the septar as a crown was placed upon his head; his younger brother, sam, stood off to the side with a proud look on his face.

dean turned around to face the crowd, beaming a grin full of confidence. for some odd reason, you felt drawn to him just by staring at him. maybe it's the new title? the thought of the power he now held? or was it how unbelievably charming he was in the way he carried himself? the way he spoke, words flowing flawlessly through his speech before the choir queued in, initiating the conclusion of the ceremony. there was just something about him, and you don't know if you'll ever quite place what that something was.

but your thoughts came to a halt as your heart thumped in your chest. he was looking at you. the crowd was clapping while he was staring— admiring you.

you began to clap as well, fearing that the reason he was staring was because you weren't. but he continued. to dean, you were the most gorgeous, beautiful, and damn stunning woman in the room. he knew of you and your family, his father having made trades with them in the past. he knew of your recent princess status; and he wanted to change that to queen right then and there.

your eyes sparkled like the shiny and expensive stones on his new crown, and your tiara. it seemed as if the world stopped when the two of you became mesmerized with each other.

sam caught this small fraction of a moment in time unlike the attendees around the large room. he smiled into a side smirk, his dimple poking into his skin.

"just go talk to her, dean." the young brunette urged his older brother as they stood at the front of the room, guests going up and bowing to them before dancing or mingling on the sidelines while they enjoyed the catering.

"yeah, like that's so easy. thanks, sammy." dean responded sarcastically, making sam roll his eyes at the fact that his brother, the ultimate flirt, was too scared to talk to you. "she'll be gone soon if you don't take your chance." sam spoke.

his words lingered in dean's head like a blaring reminder. this was the final part of his coronation, you truly will be gone by the time the party was over. and i mean, look at you! you're ethereal, and if he doesn't act now, the next thing he knows, he'll be invited as a guest to your wedding to a much lesser man who isn't him.

his eyes scanned the room as he had looked away from you to glare at his brother. once he found you again, his vision locked in once more, completely zeroing in on you as everyone around seemed to disappear.

"wish me luck, sammy." he mumbled, blocking out his brother's reply as he was already making his way across the large ballroom to you, grinning at yet ignoring the other guests who congratulated him.

you immediately felt his looming presence as you turned from the table and looked up as he towered over you.

"hi." he mumbled softly with a matching smile. your eyes widened, looking around the two of you to see people staring and murmuring.

you covered your mouth with your hand, "hi- hi, hey. uhm..h-hello, your, uh," you cleared your throat, "sorry, chocolate." you chuckled awkwardly while his smile grew. you curtsied after swallowing the rest of your sweet treat, "hello, your majesty." you smiled.

he found the whole encounter adorable while you, on the other hand, regretted your choices and stutters and basically everything you were doing. "dean is fine. you're (name), right?" he held out his hand, which you gently placed yours in, gasping lightly when he kissed your knuckles.

"oh! uh, yes, heh, sorry- yes, that's me. con-congratulations, dean. the ceremony, this party, you, its all beautiful." you rambled, pink flushing to both of your cheeks at your words.

"i-i didn't mean- i'm sorry- i'm so sorry, that was so weird-" your quick apology was cut off by his laughter, making you more embarrassed by the fact he was laughing at you.

"no, no, it's fine. please, don't apologize." he subconsciously rubbed your knuckles, the two of you not realizing the fact your hands were still connected. "plus, i was going to call you the same thing, so you beat me to it." he admitted, making you giggle.

"really? you think i'm beautiful?" you asked in disbelief. "not just beautiful, i think you're absolutely stunning." he answered. you stared into each others' eyes, sparkles twinkling in shared fondness.

the two of you were now on a balcony somewhere in the winchester castle, having broken away from the party with sam's help, who was incredibly sweet to you when you met, willing to spill all of dean's secrets right then and there had the elder not been there to shush him before he could.

"okay, can i just say something crazy?" dean asked, his arm linked with yours while your other wrapped around it.

"i love crazy!" you replied, making him chuckle as the two of you stared at the view ahead. dean took a deep breath in, soaking in this moment like it could be his very last. he was happy, so incredibly happy. he's never felt this free before.

all my life has been a series of doors in my face

and then, suddenly, i bump into you

"i've never felt this strongly for anyone before, let alone someone i just met. which, isn't a bad thing, not at all. but...i just never felt a connection like this. it feels so strange but so..." he trailed off, failing to think of a word.

i was thinking the same thing, 'cause like, i've been searching my whole life to find my own place

and maybe it's the party talking, or the chocolate fondue

"perfect?" you suggested, your soft voice breaking him away from the scenery to look down at you, seeing you already looking at him with your head rested against his upper arm.

he smiled, a genuine, happy smile. "yeah, perfect." he sighed contently. he moved to adjust your positions until you were standing and staring at each other. he moved some hair out of your face, cupping your cheek.

but with you (but with you, i found my place), i see your face

and it's nothing like i've ever known before

your hands rested against his chest, breathing calmly as if this was all second nature. the two of you glanced to the other's lips then back to the eyes. and as if spoken in a silent language, you both leaned in, connecting together with bodies flush against each other.

love is an open door, love is an open door (door)

your mouths moved in perfect sync, matching puzzle pieces finally clicking together. his other hand found sanctuary on your waist while yours reached up to his neck, pulling him down into you.

your hearts swelled as the two of you moved in passion and with certainty. this was it, this was your person.

love is an open door with you (with you), with you (with you)

love is an open door

after a very heated, nearly getting caught by guards, makeout session; the two of you made your way from the balcony to one of dean's favorite hidden tracks in the castle. you walked through small hallways and narrow open spaces through the garden before settling on a pathway. you had talked about multiple things, finding out you had so much in common.

i mean, it's crazy (what?)

we finish each other's (sandwiches)

that's what i was gonna say!

i never met someone who thinks so much like me

jinx! jinx again!

as a bird flew by, you both ducked at the same time, letting out small giggles as you faced each other, pecking lips until it slowed into real kisses.

our mental synchronization can have but one explanation

you (and i) were (just) meant to be

say goodbye (say goodbye) to the pain of the past

we don't have to feel it anymore

love is an open door

you eventually made your way up to a cliffside, dean leading the way with constant reassurance that you'd be safe as you clung to him tightly.

the view was absolutely gorgeous. the higher position letting you see above the land filled with trees, homes, and the castle itself. you squinted your eyes, seeing your own faraway kingdom's lights in the distance.

"god, this is wonderful, dean." you gushed. "right? my mom showed me this when i was little, i come here every now and again. i've never brought anyone but sam up here." he spoke.

"bet you say that to every girl." you snorted, which made him shake his head. "i haven't. i'm normally too afraid to show myself vulnerable around anyone but sammy." he turned to you, "but with you, (name), it's different. i feel so comfortable and happy and i feel like i can by myself around you."

you stared at him in shock and admiration, nobody has ever felt that way, or at least said they do, around you before. and it made you fall deeply in love with him on the spot, whereas he had fallen in love with you since he first saw you.

you immediately brought him into yet another kiss, your tongues swirling together like a practiced dance. hands roamed around warm bodies straining against uncomfortable, tight clothing.

your bodies moved against each other, chasing any sort of friction from the other. moans of pleasure and love spewed from one mouth to another, trapped between the two of you.

love is an open door (door)

life can be so much more with you (with you), with you (with you)

love is an open door (door)

when you pulled away for needed air, a string of saliva connected you both, breaking at heaving chests releasing pants swollen lips. your eyes gazed over each other's, hues of colors shining in the moonlight behind dilated pupils.

"can i say something crazy? will you marry me?" dean asked in a soft whisper, not really thinking before he spoke, but now awaiting your answer.

"can i say something even crazier? yes!" you whispered back then squealed. grins plastered on your faces before lips smashed and crashed against each other again, hands pulling until you were close, almost meshed, together once more.

tags!: @sunsbaby @j2archives @soldiersgirl @dulcescorderitas @bejeweledinterludes @deansbeer @starzify @bluemerakis @immodestly-marina @legalmente-loca @multiversefanfics

[m4rv3l-girl]

Bucky x reader are having a baby but noone knows yet

Reader can feel her belly get chubby and while in the kitchen grabbing a snack, sharon and a few other agents comment on it and say if reader keeps gaining weight bucky won't be interested, reader leaves the snack and goes back thier shared room and hides away, bucky hears the quiet sobs and immediately rushes to you and asks what's wrong, you explain that you overheard someone talking about you but wouldn't say who but bucky finds out and makes a Big scene and spills the secret of your baby

Warnings: Mentions of body shaming. Major fluff.

A Secret Worth Spilling

Bucky had always been observant. Centuries of war, survival, and just existing as a man out of time had taught him how to notice things others didn’t. That’s why, despite the general hustle of the compound and the distraction of another one of Sam’s exasperated rants in the common area, he knew something was wrong before he even set foot in your shared room.

It was too quiet.

You weren’t the loudest person in the world, but you always made little sounds. The shuffling of your feet, the quiet hum of a song stuck in your head, the soft way you murmured to yourself when reading or cooking—Bucky had learned all these sounds by heart.

And right now? Nothing.

His brows furrowed, unease curling in his gut as he stepped into the room. That’s when he heard it.

A sniffle. A shaky inhale. Then, a muffled sob.

His stomach dropped.

"Doll?" His voice was soft, careful, as he shut the door behind him. No answer. Another sniffle.

Bucky immediately crossed the room, kneeling in front of where you had curled up on the bed, arms wrapped protectively around your midsection.

"Sweetheart, what’s wrong?"

You shook your head, squeezing your eyes shut. "Nothing. It’s stupid."

Bucky tilted his head, concern etched deep into his expression. "You’re crying, which means it ain’t stupid."

You swallowed hard, trying to suppress another wave of emotion, but your chest still trembled with the effort. Bucky reached out, his flesh hand tracing gentle circles on your knee while his vibranium fingers remained still - he always made sure to be gentle with you, no matter which hand he used.

"C’mon, baby. Talk to me."

You exhaled shakily, rubbing your hands over your arms as if to shield yourself from the words still ringing in your ears. "I was in the kitchen," you started, your voice small. "Just grabbing a snack."

Bucky waited patiently, nodding for you to continue.

"Sharon and a couple of the agents were there," you admitted, not meeting his gaze. "They…they made comments. About me. About-" Your voice wavered, and Bucky felt his jaw tighten. "About my weight."

His fingers twitched against your knee. "What did they say?"

You hesitated, clearly not wanting to repeat it. But Bucky could tell from the fresh tears pooling in your eyes that it was eating at you. He hated that.

"They said if I kept gaining weight, you wouldn’t be interested anymore."

Silence.

Bucky stared at you, unblinking, while his mind processed what he’d just heard. Then, something cold settled in his chest. A mixture of disbelief, fury, and something else—something raw.

"You believe that?" His voice was quiet, but there was something dangerously sharp underneath.

"No!" You rushed to say, shaking your head. "I mean—I don’t know. I wasn’t even thinking about it until they—" Your breath hitched. "I left the snack. I just—I couldn’t."

Bucky’s heart clenched. You were pregnant. Carrying his baby. And yet, you’d rather starve yourself than risk gaining weight because of some cruel words?

"Doll," he breathed, cupping your face with both hands. "Listen to me. And I mean really listen, alright?"

You nodded hesitantly, eyes wide.

"I love you. I love every single inch of you. Always have, always will." His thumb stroked your cheek. "And this?" He placed his vibranium hand over your stomach, the smallest of bumps already noticeable beneath your sweater. "This is the most beautiful thing in the world to me. Because it means we’re bringing a life into this world together."

Your lower lip wobbled.

"If you think for one goddamn second that I’d ever stop loving you because of some weight, then, sweetheart, we got bigger problems than a couple of bitter agents with too much time on their hands."

A teary laugh bubbled out of you, and Bucky grinned at the sound.

"Now, you’re gonna tell me exactly who said it," he continued, "or I’m gonna find out myself. And trust me, sweetheart, I will find out."

Your silence was answer enough.

Bucky exhaled through his nose, jaw clenching. "Alright then."

He pressed a firm kiss to your forehead before standing, rolling his shoulders as his expression darkened. He was going to find Sharon. And when he did?

Well. He’d always been good at making an impression.

💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔

Bucky found Sharon in the common area, chatting with a couple of agents. They barely noticed him until he strode right up to their group, arms crossed, expression dark.

"Which one of you idiots decided it was a good idea to make my girl feel like shit?"

Silence.

Sharon’s eyes darted around slightly. "Bucky, I don’t know what-”

"Cut the crap, Carter," he snapped. "I know what you said. And I swear to god, if any of you so much as look at Y/N the wrong way again, I’ll make sure your next mission is somewhere real fun - like Siberia."

Murmurs of unease rippled through the group. Sam, who had been watching from the couch, arched an eyebrow. "Damn, Barnes. Didn’t take you for the dramatic type."

Bucky ignored him. "And for the record?" His voice carried through the room. "She’s not just ‘gaining weight.’ She’s pregnant. With my kid. She’s carrying My Baby. And if any of you have something to say, now would be the time because I’m ticked the heck off."

More silence.

Then-

"Oh," Sharon said weakly. "Shit."

"Yeah," Bucky scoffed, shaking his head. "Crap."

“Why are you…speaking like that?” One agent asked with an eyebrow raised.

“Need to practice not swearing, got a little one on the way.” He said sternly.

With that, he turned on his heel and made his way back to you without another word, not without grabbing a chocolate bar for you of course. The room remained dead silent in his wake.

❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

When Bucky returned, you were still sitting on the bed, eyes wide. You had heard the yelling. "You told them?"

Bucky shrugged, plopping down beside you. "They ticked me off."

You snorted. "Oh, so you just announced our baby to the whole compound?"

"Pretty much."

Despite yourself, you laughed and leaned into him. "Guess the secret’s out now."

Bucky pressed a kiss to your temple, his flesh hand settling over your stomach once more. "Damn right it is. And I couldn’t be prouder."

You sighed contentedly, letting the warmth of his presence soothe you. Bucky held you close, already planning exactly how he was going to make it up to you for even a second of doubt.

And judging by the way his fingers brushed over your skin, it was going to be a very thorough apology.

——————————————————————————————————

Here you go! 🫱🫶

[peachyprophets-blog]

DROWNED LOVE

How the gods would mourn after the reader died

A/N: Heyy!! I will be working on an alternative version in the next few days, what if one of the gods (who knows heheh) helps the reader to get back to Ithaca (she probably only returns to her family after the events of the Ithaca Saga).

And no, we don't greet happiness with open arms :)

°•○☆○•°

Zeus:

જ⁀➴Would mourn you for thousands of years.

જ⁀➴ Created a cloud that has your shape.

જ⁀➴Despairs because the cloud is not exactly like you. If you are mentioned near him, he would look at the person threateningly.

જ⁀➴Blames others for your death.

જ⁀➴"My beloved, not a day will go by that I won't miss you!"

Poseidon:

જ⁀➴After your death, the seas trembled and for years they were plagued with violent storms

જ⁀➴Tries to carry on as best he can Often argues with Zeus about who is to blame

જ⁀➴Would build you a monument that he would put in his palace

જ⁀➴All mortal women he fell in love with always resembled you in appearance or character.

જ⁀➴"My beloved, may the waves sing you to sleep, no matter where you are"

Hades:

જ⁀➴He mourned most of his brothers

જ⁀➴It tore him apart to see his brothers like this, but he knew it was best for you

જ⁀➴Yet he watched you every day from the underworld

જ⁀➴Even when you died, he immediately welcomed you into his home, but didn't say anything to the other gods.

જ⁀➴"Find peace in your end, rest now little one"

Apollo:

જ⁀➴THIS MAN IS SUFFERING

જ⁀➴He has lost the protégé he loved so much

જ⁀➴It seemed as if the sun wasn't shining as brightly anymore

જ⁀➴He dedicated songs, poems and works of art to you

જ⁀➴What had happened was something he never wanted to happen, he had lost the person he loved again

જ⁀➴He transformed something that had once belonged to you into a beautiful flower that could bloom even in the worst of circumstances.

જ⁀➴"The sun protects you everywhere, my sunshine, bloom where no one else can bloom"

Hera:

જ⁀➴Look you might think she would not be sad, BUT SIKE!!!

જ⁀➴Hera felt very sorry for you, you were just an innocent soul who couldn't do anything about the fate that had befallen you

જ⁀➴Hera grew fond of you and saw you like a daughter

જ⁀➴Hera took out her anger on her husband, how could he take her beloved girl!?

જ⁀➴Hera sees you everywhere, whether under the tree in the Garden of the Gods or in the Great Hall.

જ⁀➴"At least you don't have to put up with my husband anymore, my little girl"

Hermes:

જ⁀➴This boy will hide his sadness behind his usual smile

જ⁀➴He will crack jokes and play pranks on people as usual

જ⁀➴I would say he lives in a world where you are still alive

જ⁀➴He will look at others and think that you are standing right next to him

જ⁀➴He will not accept that you are gone, and the other gods will have to watch the messenger of the gods living in this illusion

જ⁀➴"What do you say Dawling? Oh I love the idea!"

-Peachyprophet

[littlestl4mb]

omg more thoughts on luigi being a taurus man pls…🙏

omg omg ok. disclaimer: i really am not the most knowledgeable about astrology and charts and all that. however i love some good old fashioned pattern recognition 😻 so here are my thoughts abt taurus men that seem like they pertain to luigi too.

first things first, they are STUBBORN. they get stuck in their own ways and do not want anyone disturbing it. because of that, they are also the most argumentative mfs i’ve ever encountered. AND they always have a damn ego. god help you if you encounter a taurus man before he has an ego death 🙏 if you bring up a differing opinion to them that they might actually agree with, they will pretend they disagree in the moment and then later circle back to it and open themselves up to it. but when it’s in the moment, they have to be right and on their own side. they’ve got too much pride. AND i need to emphasize this: you are lucky if they actually change their mind. don’t expect it. but somehow they also really love arguing?? the person they’re arguing with will hate it, but a taurus man LIVESSSS for the debate. he will keep pestering you even if you try to end the argument, like they just can’t help themselves lmfao. they’re a lil arrogant and cocky that way.

while the stubbornness can be difficult to navigate in some situations, it’s kind of endearing in other facets of their personality (imo). even though there are of course many different factors that play into a taurus man’s relationships, i find them to be very loyal men! i can see this being true for luigi. as i’ve experienced it, when a taurus man is into someone, they are all in. they want one specific person and they want them bad!!! like they become full time yearners if they can’t have the person they want. they want the one perfect match for them. nothing else. so they don’t really even bother pursuing anyone else. their heart has to be fully in it 100%, they don’t want to go half way. also, they want everything to be right or they don’t want it at all. some people might think they’re too big of romantic idealists because they are willing to wait for what they think is perfect and well… most people don’t believe in perfect partners. however, a taurus man will tell you that those people are wrong. and a taurus man knows the critics are wrong because they know so clearly when they’ve met the perfect one. and they make it clear to you too. i’m just speculating here ofc, but i wouldn’t be surprised if luigi was this way.

they try to not be super emotional, but somehow in doing that they go full circle into being the most emotional & dramatic man you know. this is because they are so vocal about how they feel, and bc of that aforementioned stubbornness. it makes for some really deep connection though in conversation and relationships. i think it’s nice personally because they don’t shy away from showing you exactly who they are. they are truthful!!! it’s a beautiful trait. and kinda rare in this day and age. and i find that to be very obvious in luigi’s character.

what else… oh yeah, a taurus man LOVES adventure. he can find it in traversing across the globe, he can find it in a walk down the street to the corner store, and he can even find it in as something simple as reading a book on an unknown topic to him (does this ring a bell for a certain someone we know??) they are whimsical as fuck!!! they can find adventure and beauty in everything. and through that, they know how to enlighten those around them too :-) they want to share adventures with others, and they want to share knowledge and learning too bc of that :-) they are just so intellectual!!! and they value it in others— they like people with a similar curiosity for the world as them.

oh! and they are typically very hard workers. they just love to use that brain of theirs in one way or another. having autonomy over their actions n life is very important to them (it’s like, their way or the highway lolll).

so yeahhhh luigi deff gives me total typical taurus man vibes <3

[mtcloudsworld]

Can I please request a Dick Grayson x black reader smut, we know that man is nasty and when he’s in love he’s down right filthy so he’ll be into spanking, hair pulling chocking, and he’s definitely eating pussy like his life depends on it. Do what you want just make him as nasty as ever 🤎🤎🤎

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆 | +18, mdni, dick grayson x black!reader, black!fem, hair pulling, oral (v receiving), pet names: dollface, baby, darling, mama, love, friends to lovers trope, dirty talk, backshots, pound town, gushy gushy

𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑 | ANON, I'm not even gon' lie... I struggled with this one soooo bad 😭 I was over here tryna give you like a whole ass story and what now, but then my ass was way too stubborn, and way too horny to do all that soooo I just typed away at it as much as I could. Hopefully you like it. If not, sue my writer's block lol.

please comment, like and reblog!! Enjoy lovebugs!!! 🦠🩷

𝐀𝐇𝐇, 𝐘𝐄𝐒, we know Dick is a nasty man, he likes it sloppy, filthy to the point you're a quivering whimpering mess, right?

It was kinda hard...at first... to believe how nasty this man could be.

How could someone so energetic with such a cocky personality trapped in a god like body with that millionaire dollar smile make a girl cum in seconds?

Your relationship was mutual. You both had the same friends but never budged to hang out with each other.

It didn't mean he never had his eyes on you, though.

The way you walked, how you talked, dressed and styled yourself never failed to amaze him. Your hair was either in braids or in its natural habit-- curls. You always had your nails done and your scent was always a mixture between cookie dough, vanilla, and coco butter.

Your personality was cute and charming, oftentimes you were a bit shy and quiet, but once you got comfortable around somebody you were okay.

Usually, Dick hopped from girl to girl, could never stay committed at times and getting to know you genuinely as friend wasn't supposed to go any further than that...but it did.

You were constantly on his mind, effortlessly grabbing at his attention, you had a way of caring for people-- it was almost like a motherly instinct to nurture someone.

There were moments when you two were face to face, talking, having a normal conversation about something and you'd just...lightly brush a strand from his face or fix the collar of his shirt.

Oh, his tie is crooked? Let me fix that.

Got a crumb on his face? Let me wipe that off for you.

Eventually, coming over to each other's apartments turned into sleeping over, getting weirdly comfortable with cuddling, having deep, intimate conversations that most friends or associates wouldn't have with each other.

But that was the issue, you both were comfortable, and usually comfortability led to numerous things.

Things that became private and secluded from the rest, things that took time for him to accept and realize. Things that allowed you to invite him and read you like a book. He took time out of his own world to get to know you from the inside out. He took time to settle for the innocent things that were ultimately sweet to the point his teeth were rotting.

It took time to understand this wasn't a friendship, it was more than just a simple hug, a glance in those beautiful eyes, a brush of the hands, having mental check ins, texting and calling each other nonstop-- it was more than just platonic.

Because best believe when he's found himself stuck in a place where you're truly his only option, his only solitude, his only source of light and recharge-- he'll come running to you. He's done it plenty of times, more than you can count.

Even when he thought it was the stupidest idea to land on your balcony at the weakest time of his patrol, you took care of him without even knowing.

You took care of him like you would at campus, eating with friends, hanging out-- you were always in his corner. So when he reveals to you who he truly was, Nightwing, it felt like a tone of bricks slipped off his shoulders.

Your promise of keeping his identity a secret felt more sacred than anything.

He had gotten comfortable with just sneaking his way into your apartment, unless he didn't warn you ahead of time, everything was on lock down. Born and raised in Gotham taught you so many things and keeping your home secure at all times was one of them.

When he does come over after a nightly patrol, it's never a dull moment where your stitching him up, cleaning the blood from off his skin, icing his cheek with a bag of frozen fruit...there was never a dull moment when he's sitting there like a little kid observing you glancing over him and checking every aspect of him, making sure that he was okay and in piece...never a dull moment when he wants to lean in and kiss you...but something always got in the way.

Nonetheless, he makes it his goal to at least try,

On a Friday night, after patrol, he realized how far he was from home.

As much as he wanted to take a break from visiting you, tonight had him beat.

He wasn't feeling up to swinging from rooftop to rooftop when your apartment was literally right here.

Coming to your place unannounced was never his intention, nonetheless, you invited him in anyway. Cleaning up his wounds and washing the blood, dirt and grime from off his suit, he heads to the bathroom for a shower.

Once he was done, he stepped out in only a pair of sweats. His hair a mixture of dry and wet strands curling around his eyes and shoulders gave him that boyish charm that made most girls go feral. Along with the sight of his toned torso, bitable muscles and imprint of his bulge...yeah, you were in deep.

And trying to stay cool, calm and collected while standing beside you, in the kitchen, leaning against the counter with his foot crossed over the other, arms crossed while eating a banana wasn't getting you nowhere.

You were finding it hard to make eye contact with him, too scared to stumble over your words when he gazed over you with those piercing sapphire eyes and beautiful smile. He was speaking to you so casually, but your thighs were practically clenching against one another.

Your body was hot, heart beating quicker than usual while your mind was going to places that it shouldn't. Yet here you were feeling some type of way, and when you were done with those damn dishes, you both settled on the couch. Putting on a horror movie to pass on the time.

Neither of you were really tired, it was only 1:30 on a Saturday morning, so settling with that seemed plausible.

15 minutes in man spreading with his eyes trained on the screen. He mindlessly accepted the comfort of your crossed legs over his lap. Leaning into his arm, with your own wrapped around the muscle you feel his warmth transfer through you as your body laxes, even with his knuckles brushing lightly against the side of your thigh, it felt nice...or when he massaged it, groping it softly and caressing at the flesh subconsciously...it felt nice, too nice.

Because at some point you told him to stop, and when he looked to you confusingly. Brows furrowed with a puzzled gaze, you bring it to his attention, embarrassingly, that it made you feel some things.

And it dawns on him, suddenly...

The smirk and mischievous glare in eyes make you feel shy, wanting nothing more than to curl in a ball.

It dawns on him that he has an effect on you.

Just like you had an effect on him with taking care of him, physical touch from him felt like heaven. The littlest things he does to you sends you on a whirlwind.

And he couldn't lie, it boosted his ego.

He would sit there contemplating his next actions for the next 5 minutes.

Eyes looking anywhere but the tv. There was this cute awkward silence between you. Clearly fidgety, unsure if y'all should or shouldn't...

Peeking over you, he murmurs, "do you want me to make it feel better?"

Staring ahead, your mind doesn't register his words until a second late.

The question no doubt taking you off guard, but you look at him shyly, shrugging your shoulders with uncertainty. "I-I think so?"

Trying to hide yourself from him, you wanted to express that it wasn't a big deal and that it'll go away on its own... but the way he was looking at you right now, with his hand still rested on your thigh...the temptation was real.

Dick chuckles at your cuteness, "No need to hesitate, doll face. If you're not up to it, I won't force you into anything." He says mindlessly brushing your curls behind your ear to get a good look of your face, brushing his thumb along your jawline. You gulp noticing the proximity of your faces, the scent of his body wash overwhelming you as you eye him adoringly. "I want to."

He cocks a brow at you, "you sure?" you realized his question was out of reassurance, wanting to make sure if this was something you wanted to do.

But you nodded, glancing between his eyes and those pretty plump lips of his.

"Yes, I'm sure."

It seemed impractical for him to think that way with you, but he did.

He thought about it nonstop.

To the point he was having to excuse himself to the bathroom, fisting himself at the thought of you. All because he had an innocent little cuddle session with you. He just couldn't bear the feeling of your ass brushing up against his dick, which was pathetic I know but true.

Or when he accidentally got a glimpse of your chocolate round tits, bouncing up and down as you squeezed and jumped yourself into those tight ass jeans you hadn't worn in a while because you gained a little bit weight around your ass and thighs.

He loved every second of it, though. He loved every chunky curve and perfect imperfect flaw that made you you. He thought about it every single day and night, out on patrol when he feels touch starved, or busy with other things that weren't you.

Dick has thought about consistanly.

He's thought about this exact moment for a while now.

He's got you in his grasp, trapped in your own room giving you exactly what you've been waiting for, and you realize between shared kisses and him glorifying your body that you love every second of it.

You love how messy he is, how he doesn't give a fuck if you're loud and everybody and they mama can hear you. He was making you feel good, making you feel like bouncing on his dick for hours.

Salvia drips from his mouth to your aching center. Watching how it rolls down the crevice of your lower lips past the entrance of your hole.

It coats every inch of you beautifully before proceeding to dip his fingers past your folds. Light wet sounds heard as he circles around to your clit, rubbing up and down tenderly.

"How's that feel, baby? Feels okay?"

"Y-yes, keep...going," You exhale shakily, nails curling into the sheets, balling them into your fists you feel his fingers slip in and out of your leaking hole.

His head rested at your thigh as he peppers kisses to your flesh, attentively watching your eyes flutter shut to the euphoric feeling building from within, your moans become softer and sultrier as your cunt welcomes him deeper.

Your skin felt so satisfying in his palms, almost like Play-Doh as he continued to grope parts of you. The way it was so smooth and yet so soft beneath his calloused hands, he never felt anything like it. Your scent was so intoxicating, he could almost taste it in his mouth. Actually... he wanted to savor it in his mouth, every inch, every lick, gathering a taste of you.

"Spread those legs for me, baby," he instructs lightly, lips adventuring south of your hips near your lower region. He gently moves your knees over his shoulders to hold you securely within his grasp.

Mouth leaving kisses to your clit, he lays his long pink tongue flat against your center. Licking long stripes up your clit deliberately slow, you gasp at the sudden action. "Oh, Dick~"

One taste after the other, he moans pulling you closer, "Fuck, I'm gonna ruin you."

His tongue flicks against your bud quickly. Concentrating on your raunchy moans and the way your body responds. His warm hands move upward around your parted thighs. Palms laid flat at the underside of them, he presses for your knees to touch your chest.

"Such a good girl." He plunges two fingers into your leaking hole, prepping you a little bit more before replacing his fingers with his mouth again.

The sensation of Dick's lips engulfing, sucking, licking and slurping against your sobbing wet pussy sends a heat wave through your body. The long-wet muscle glides over your hole teasingly a few times before shoving it inside.

Your whimper-moans fill his ears as he maneuvers in and out of you. Squirming beneath his hold. Not wanting to run away from him, he holds you down against the mattress, forcing you to take it like a good girl while arching your back off the mattress. "Aww, Dick right there~" with your head pressed to the pillow.

Completely immersed to the weird sensation of him tongue fucking you. Mentally, it felt too realistic, too natural for how far his tongue could reach. Undoubtedly grazing at the sides of your gummy walls, you were sure he could touch your g spot without even trying.

Nonetheless, it left you speechless, embarrassingly aroused and yet a stuttering mess that expressed something so indescribable.

With your hand pressed to the back of his head, you welcomed him deeper. His mouth working tirelessly eating you out like a full four course meal, you attempt to swivel your hips against his salivating mouth. "D-Dick..." The whimper of his name was high pitched, undoubtedly trying to warn him that something was brewing.

"Mmph," His mouth pulls away from your pussy with a smack. A heavy exhale hits at your exposed core as he continues with pumping you with his fingers. Voluntarily shaking and wiggling his fingers at your g-spot. Your movements halted, eyes clenching and jaw dropped to the action. "Mhmm, yeahhh. There you go, that's it, just let go for me baby, I got you." It sends continuous vibrations to your clit, your walls clenching and contracting around his finger, your throat emits a deep elongated moan, painting an ivory white all over his fingers.

Dick lets you ride out your high before he pulled out to examine your essence coating all over his fingers. You laid there, breathless and mind blown for a moment, resting your legs out onto the mattress lazily.

While you hear the humming of a pleasant man at the end of your bed, you were too busy collecting your thoughts of the events that just occurred.

Noticing you were completely silent he goes to land a kiss at your stomach.

"You okay, baby?"

You nod, "mhm." Before lifting yourself up slowly on your elbows.

When you get a better look at the image before you, you nearly snicker as Dick lick small spots of cum from off your inner thigh. Smiling from ear to ear, you ask with your head cocked to the side cutely, "Do I taste that good?" Looking at him with amusement, he traces kisses up your body. Grossing onto his hands and knees, you notice the rippling effect and swell of his muscles beneath the flesh of his arms and shoulders, veins bulging through, his huge frame looms over you causing your back to touch the mattress. when he comes face to face with you, your dainty hands come from up his biceps to wrap around his shoulders. Noses nudging against one another cutely, a playful smirk is decorated on his lips when he sees a little twinkle in your eye.

"Wanna find out?" His voice was deeper than before, raspy and sexily menacing to the point your aroused cunt began to clench around nothingness. Your lips ghosting over his, hooded eyes watched closely as you proceeded to finally engulf his, he immediately deepens the kiss no longer feeling the need to prolong it.

When he rests his body between your legs your startled by the heavy bulge of his dick rubbing along your clit. Moaning between kisses he takes this opportunity to slither his tongue past your mouth, brows connecting at the slow development of pleasure growing in your body. The combination of the slow yet firm stroke of his hips grinding against your pussy and his tongue adventuring in your mouth has your moans become breathy, soft and cute with a lilac touch that has him grunting in return. "Ooh, baby" your nails dig into the skin of his shoulder blades, your legs locking around his waist, his lips move down the side of your chin to leave bites at your neck. Sounds of your heavy exhales and whimpers growing needy has his dick twitching in his sweats.

"Wanna continue, love?" his hands clench to the sheets on either side of your head, keeping himself from crushing you completely, his hips rock against you.

"Yes...please." you exhaled shakily, bucking your hips to him.

It didn't take much longer for him to have you bent outta shape.

"Ooohhh Fuuuuck!"

In the perfect position, face down, ass up, your sweet raunchy melodic moans bounced off the four white walls as you clawed at the sheets. Body jerking, mouth gaped, and brows furrowed. Your back arched into his embrace as he pounds profoundly deep into your pretty little pussy.

"Mhmm, that's it, take that shit, mama-- fuck, you look so good like this."

Quick with precision, no breaks in between leaving marks on your bronze flesh. He leaves you breathless with your hand rested at his abdomen. He grabs at your wrist pinning it to your lower back to feel your long acrylics dig into his skin.

With sweat drenched strands sticking to his forehead, mouth gaped with heavy grunts, he observes the sight of your fat ass jiggling to the slamming of his hips.

Fucking you at an angle, your whimpers become suppressed by your swollen bitten lips. “Heh, you like this shit... don't you, baby? You like it rough? You like the way my dick feels baby, hm?" You were unable to speak, jaw dropped with hesitant moans slipping out and when he doesn't hear a response, when he doesn't hear you communicate with him, he dares to go slow. "Or should I go slow? Huh? Want me to fuck you slow and hard, dollface? Cause I can do that, I can give it to you just like this--" His thrusts still so harsh and rough against your clit, pegging his dick to grind deeper.

"O-Ooh fuck n-no, keep going! keep going! Don't. stop." You whined like baby hating the change of pace.

"Yeah?" he cocked a brow at you in amusement, smirking evilly.

"Mhmmm, please, Dickie, please go faster..." you beg

He grabs at your hips roughly once more, digging his fingers into your flesh, praising you. "Good fucking girl."

He was practically fucking you to pound town, fucking you till the bed was creaking, till your sounds were silence by the agonizing warmth of excitement circulating through your nervous system.

Your curls were shielding over your clenched eyes, head tilted back from his hand collecting a fist full of your hair, your lips gaped open in euphoric pleasure. You begin to wail as he pounds into you relentlessly.

He watches your pussy lips pucker around his length, squeezing him tightly and sucking him deeper and deeper till he reached your cervix. He was so deep you could practically feel him in your stomach. Driving and grinding his hips into you meanly, his hand was placed at the small of your back molding you into an arch.

And like a cat, slowly you follow through with his silent command, planting your chest onto the mattress, your arms outstretched from you, your head turns sideways observing how he fucks you in rhythmic motion, hands transitioning to coddle at your hips.

"Harder, baby, harder..." You nearly laugh at the sudden vibrations of your skin smacking repeatedly against one another, caught in a trance to the gushy squelching sounds of your sweet, sweet essences dripping from around your thighs. "Y-yeah, that's it, just like that-- mmphm...oh my God!" Your breath is caught at your throat, eyes beginning to water.

His hands grope at your ass cheeks, using the fatty flesh for leverage, turning his fingers white. Thumbs pulled your ass cheeks apart so he could catch a glimpse each time he thrusts into you with ease, the squelching gushy gushy of your arousal feels and sounds so sticky and wet to his ears, so sloppy that its dripping onto the sheets and soaking at the base of his abdomen.

"Shit, m'bout to cum..."

Between your parted legs you feel his hand move towards your center, gasping, "fuuuck!" You grind yourself against his fingers as they move around your folds, gaining your silk and ghost over your clit, slapping against it couple of times before giving it a sweet gentle rub in quick circular motions.

"Mmm'fuuuck yesss!"

You wail, body crumbling lower, feeling suddenly weak within his grasp.

He smirks victoriously when he feels you start to clench around his length, quivering like damn leaf. "Mhm, cum on this dick, mama." You release a deep guttural moan beneath him, when your body collapses to the bed sounds of your cum gushing from out of you is heard as he ruts inside of you, following in pursuit.

"Shit, gotdamn baby!"

He stood back with huff, watching as his tip leaked all over the crack of your ass. His cum seeping from out of your entrance down the side of your shaking thigh. Taking a hold of his dick, the swell of his mushroom tip smears your shared juices all along your center, between your folds, rubbing it up and down against your clit to hear you whimper from the sensitivity.

Stepping away, he kneels down to be leveled with your ass. Peppering kisses all along the red imprinted cheek, he nibbles at your thigh next.

He feels you move, your upper body turned sideways with your knee bent while the other stayed straight. Your hand reaches for the crown of his head as his face buries into the crevice of your cheeks. Inhaling the scent of your cum, it rubs up against his nose as he started to lick at you.

"Mmph, I can never get enough of you." He states pulling your ass cheeks apart some more, his tongue dragging up from your pussy to the space of your ass.

You squeal to the feeling of his long pink tongue slithering past your quivering hole. Dark lust filled eyes watching as your swollen lips parted, keeping eye contact with him as you press his head deeper, bucking your hips back.

You welcome him back into your heat, making out with your cunt, moaning at the taste of you lingering on his buds, his hands begin to smack at your ass a few times, groping at the flesh as he starts to slurp up his salvia, devouring you some more to feel it roll down the side of his mouth and smear against your inner thigh messily.

"Aww, shit!...you just can't get enough, huh?" You whimper laugh starting to ride his face as you feel him poke at your sweet spot, "fuck, you always find the right spot...Oh, m'cumming."

And what felt like the fifth time already, you cum, you cum all along his face feeling his head shake to finish you off completely.

Pulling away to see your pussy juices shine all along his mouth and chin, smeared at his cheeks. You watched as his smirk grew, his tongue slipping out to lick around his mouth seductively before going in for a kiss. His tongue shoved down your throat while your hand moves to stroke at his dick, thumb rubbing around his swollen tip.

𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐒 𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐕𝐄𝐃

𝐃𝐎 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐀𝐋 ©𝐦𝐭𝐜𝐥𝐨𝐮𝐝𝐬 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟓

... y'all what the fuck did I just create???

[punker-topia]

punk, elimination chamber and wrestlemania: a few thoughts

this is just me rambling, ok? i'm kinda new to wrestling. been here for two months, so i'm nobody.

i have no idea why i started to like cm punk. i just decided to look him up after seeing him in a few matches. and i realized this man is Something Else. his career is beautiful, despite what people have to say. he came from nothing and he became one of the most loved wrestlers. people still were chanting his name when he wasn't even in wwe anymore.

i like the wrestler cm punk, but i also like the man cm punk is.

he made a name for himself. he became known for spitting fire. he's a scorpio, he's kinda impulsive and maybe dramatic at times. but you can relate to him. he's very honest and straightforward. he doesn't fear anyone or anything. he's bigger than himself. i play around and say he's just an old man, but he's tough. he has a lot of ambition. he's not the type to give up easily. considering his whole career, he has the right to say he's the best in the world.

i'm not a crier. i'm emotionally stunted due to years of depression and antidepressants. but i cried a lot when i saw his chance of main eventing wrestlemania slipping through his fingers as he slowly tapped out. it hurt me. felt personal, you know? he walked out of wwe because he deserved a spot in wrestlemania and he knew it, yet it was never given to him.

but then i think of his latest interview. this cm punk isn't the cm punk of ten, twelve years ago. punk has matured. he knows what he has achieved by now. the crowd always chants his name. he knows his worth and he's at peace with himself if he goes to wrestlemania or not.

he is the main event. and he knows it. and i'm glad he knows it.

still, i cried, because i wanted him there. even though we know it's cena's year, even after his interview. i wanted so desperately for him to win, but it's okay if he didn't.

he's still cm punk and he's still the best in the world. :)

[treatbuckywkisses]

It's happened she LITERALLY did this for ME🥺😭 

the warning............ already has my stomach tense as fuck🫠

Thor is such a sassy king in this LOLL dramatic man with power 😮‍💨

A formal gala, with Bucky dressed up in a suit and you in the most alluring dress in your closet, could be the perfect place to earn a second warning. LMAOOOO YOU GO BABE !!!!!! 

“Okay darling, they’re closed.” He plays along, knowing that when it comes down to it, he would do anything you ask him without contest because it’s for you. My God shutup this whole encounter between them is literally the most freaking precious thing EVER☹️☹️

Bucky’s fearful that you won’t actually believe his statement, even though they are perhaps the most honest words that have ever left his lips. It’s no secret that before he met you, Bucky had enjoyed sleeping around - had entertained more than his fair share of attractive women in his bed, but after just one month officially as your boyfriend, becoming intimately familiar with your beautiful soul, he has zero doubts that you are the only woman he wants in that position for the remainder of his life. Em I'm SICK this is everything☹️❤️

You playfully slap his chest, giving him a kiss on the cheek, and then proceeding to rub your lipstick stain off, before pushing him along to get you a drink. He looks back at you as he walks away, almost bumping into the Chief of Surgery, apologising profusely with a guilty glance to you, before he shuffles off towards the bar. THE LOVE THEY HAVE IM SCREAMING 😭😭

“Months… how much can someone really change in a couple of months? There’s so many of us around the hospital he’s fucked. You really think he’s loyal to you?” You recoil at her words, not having expected the conversation to turn into whatever this was becoming, nor so soon into your small talk. I just gasped so loudly.............what a bitch 

“You don’t know him like I do and have no right to speak about him like that.” You state firmly with a small humph. If you weren’t at an event packed with your colleagues, you’d slap her. YESS STANDING ON BUSINESS BABY 

Coming to a compromise, your brain instead decides that being frozen in place, unable to look away like an impending car crash, is the best place for you to be. But that is also pure torture. this is so realistic😔 poor baby I'm feeling so bad for her rn

What if you are just Bucky’s practice run at being in a relationship, the one who fixes him up, teaches him all the valuable lessons, only for him to leave you and be the perfect partner to someone else? UGH EM the writer that you are !!!!! Seriously!!! The self doubting and silent spiral is so me lol so I can confidently say you wrote this out so well ❤️‍🩹 

There’s a split second where the whole world stands still, everyone at the gala other than the two of you disappear and it’s like you’re standing right in front of him, regardless of the space separating you. Their love 🥺🥺🥺 I will never be over them 

You lean your head on Bucky’s shoulder as he continues to rub your back. Why can’t the world just exist like this? Just the two of you in peaceful, quiet, solace. He kisses the top of your head and in that moment you know he’ll wait patiently, all night if that’s how long it takes, for you to explain how you’re feeling. I'm going to cry over this forever 

YOU'RE MY FUTURE YOU'RE MY EVERYTHING BE SO SERIOUS RIGHT NOW EM 

Fracture into a million pieces, the fabric of reality tearing apart at the seams around you as euphoria flows through you like wind on the surface of water. Every single cell in your body feels like it’s been lit on fire, burning bright like a shooting star soaring through a galaxy assembled by your love for him.  How actually dare you write this

“I love you.” Bucky confesses with a shaky breath, even though he is assured in his affection. Though you’re not conscious to receive his words, something about disclosing his most closely guarded secret to your beautiful face, finally admitting his profound feelings aloud, feels like an enormous step for him. Never in a million years did he think he could open his heart up far enough to allow space for these types of feelings to nestle within. “You are the most precious thing in my life. I’m never going to compromise what we have, never going to take you for granted. I’m going to love you and only you for every day I have left in this life and even when I’m no longer here, my soul will forever be yours.” A SLEEP CONFESSION I'M SO SICK HES SO FUCKING PRECIOUS 

A male paramedic was shot.  ........I know you did not do what I think you did.......... 

And then you see it. The thing that flatlines your heart. No.

You try not to break down seeing the sheer amount of blood, Bucky’s blood, soaking the gauze they are pressing into his shoulder wound, how pale and fragile he looks strapped down to the gurney. You’re an emergency medicine doctor, you’ve treated wounds like this before, confronted much more blood than this from a patient. But nothing in your training prepares you for observing your soulmate barely clinging to life, their claret staining your gloved fingers as you help maintain pressure, how cold his skin is to the touch, how his face looks almost serene even though these could be his final moments on earth, that he could be abandoning you for the warm embrace of death.   No simply no what the fuck hey what the hell 😃 em what the fuck! My heart is in my asshole right now you're so evil what the fuck is this babe!! (This is really written so beautifully but I'm mad at you currently) 

James Barnes simply wouldn’t exist anymore. STOP??????????? DON'T SAY SHIT LIKE THAT WHAT THE FUCK. 

You’d never hear his voice again. Or his laugh. I'm literally sobbing RN

Neither comes. You are fated to live in excruciating limbo, your lungs burning, as if you can’t take a breath until Bucky’s destiny has been sealed. Me fkin too 😭😭😭😭😭 

So I'm basically feeling all stages of grief RN but mostly denial🫶🏻 I simply refuse to believe you would do this to ME SPECIFICALLY?????? HOW DARE YOU😭😭😭 YOU GIVE ME ALL THE BEAUTIFUL THINGS SO WONDERFULLY AND LOVEY AND SOFT AND PERFECT AND THEN TO RIP IT ALL AWAY SO FORCEFULLY LIKE I'M THE ONE BEING SHOT WHAT THE HELL EM RESPECTFULLY WHAT THE FUCK. talk about a twist bc I was in denial from the beginning I really was thinking you'd make it Steve to throw us off but no she had to go and pull the trigger on my fucking man I'm so sick rn I'm going to bed until bucky wakes up.

In Situ

[He’s Hazardous To My Health Series]

Paramedic!Bucky Barnes x Resident!Fem!Reader

< < PART 8 | Series Masterlist

In Situ - meaning in the natural position (ie. Bucky’s place next to you)

Summary: You ask Bucky to accompany you to the hospital's fundraising gala.

Warnings: strictly 18+, unprotected soft loving sex, creampie, graphic depiction of gunshot wounds & significant bleeding to a major character, a bit of angst as they struggle to reveal their feelings, will we finally get an ‘I love you’??, certain ex-fling of Bucky’s makes an appearance, this part has a bit of everything, fluff, angst, smut all rolled into one; I will apologise in advance you have every right to hate me given the ending of this

Word count: a whopping 10.3k (buckle up)

A/N: this part is dedicated to the wonderful @treatbuckywkisses and @yenzys-lucky-charm, I haven’t updated this series in so long and I genuinely thought no one would care about it being incomplete but you both have left such sweet comments on the other parts that inspired me to continue with my vision for paramedic!bucky, so I hope you both enjoy my darling friends 🩵 banners by @vase-of-lilies

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It’s the start of a very long shift when the person you least want to encounter, Dr Thor Odinson, approaches you with a glowering expression which looks like the most accurate embodiment of ‘I would rather be anywhere else’.

You would rather quite literally be in any other room of the hospital than in trauma room 2 right now, but as your direct superior, you have to constantly take direction from the same man who tried to compete with Bucky for your affection, and then blacklisted you at work after you turned him down.

“Before you say no to this, I need you to know this is a requirement of your employment here and you cannot get out of it, no matter how much you might want to.” Thor states with the same amount of joy as if he were inviting you to a funeral. His hands fidget almost unconsciously with a sealed envelope as he speaks, before offering it to you with a firm, outstretched hand. “Believe me, I’ve already tried.”

You consider him for a moment, his eyes not quite meeting your examining gaze and nervously grinding his back teeth. Taking the envelope, you notice your name written in messy, scrawled handwriting on the front.

“Not sure why I wouldn’t want to, whatever you’re inviting me to sounds like the absolute time of my life.” You jest in an effort to diffuse the tension between you. Thor, however, doesn’t seem to find it funny as rather than a chuckle, you elicit the most forced eye roll you’ve seen in a while.

“It’s a fundraising gala, mostly for the research labs associated with the hospital, but part of the proceeds go to supporting patients without healthcare who otherwise would not afford our help.”

Though the thought of contributing to those of the community who are less fortunate, and find themselves in the unfortunately common situation of being in debt to a healthcare system which was designed to further cripple the already vulnerable, the lack of enthusiasm Thor is conveying during the conversation makes you wary of what important information you’re likely missing about the event.

“You’re allowed to bring a plus one.” He adds with a rising inflection, almost as if it’s a question rather than a statement.

Silence falls between you two, and for a moment you fully believe Thor is waiting for you to confirm whether you will be bringing Bucky as your date, which would just make this uncomfortable encounter even more awkward, but thankfully he speaks again before you need to say anything.

“You’ll be representing the ED, and more importantly the hospital, at this event. You and whomever you bring better be on your best behaviour, I don’t want to have to write you up again.” A smirk curves on your face as he walks away. Although there is a finality to his voice in which you know you won’t get out of this work event, Thor has reminded you of the very public display of affection Bucky showed you in the emergency room which had earned you an official warning from hospital HR.

A formal gala, with Bucky dressed up in a suit and you in the most alluring dress in your closet, could be the perfect place to earn a second warning.

* * *

The night of the Gala, Bucky knocks on your front door, feeling rather uncomfortable in this taut suit with the unnatural feeling of the shoulder pads compressing against his already broad shoulders.

He tries adjusting them as he waits, he wants to look his absolute best for you, to rival even a fraction of the radiance he’s sure you will exude tonight. But they feel even more out of place now he’s fiddled with them and regrets the decision until he hears the pattering of your footsteps behind the door.

“You have to close your eyes before you come in.” You call out to him in a playful voice, without opening the door. “I’m not ready yet.”

Bucky’s positive that in any state of undress or stage in the process of getting ready you are the most beautiful girl in the entire world, but a warmth spreads through his chest at the notion you’re wanting to look your best for him.

“Okay darling, they’re closed.” He plays along, knowing that when it comes down to it, he would do anything you ask him without contest because it’s for you.

Bucky hears the lock click as it opens and a small giggle, before the light pressure of a pair of lips on his.

“No peeking.” You request as you take his hand and lead him inside. Bucky knows your place like the back of his hand already and doesn’t need his eyes open to know that you take him towards the couch. “I’ll be right back, don’t you go anywhere.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” With each beat of Bucky’s heart his anticipation of seeing you only grows. He’s seen you in every way imaginable, naked and writhing for him, vulnerable with sickness, beaming with pride and joy, and yet every time he sees you he is continually flawed by how stunning you are in every scenario.

“Buck, you can open them.”

Bucky is simply lost for words. Never in all his life has he been in the presence of someone so utterly breathtaking. Looking at you now, practically radiating golden light, a brilliant smile tugging at the corners of your mouth, and your body looking downright heavenly in a form fitting dress which compliments the colour of your eyes, Bucky believes angels do actually exist.

“You are so beautiful.” He manages to stammer out once he’s picked his jaw up off the floor.

“Not as handsome as you in this suit.” You grip the lapels of his jacket to pull him even closer to you, straightening his tie in an action that overwhelms Bucky with a need to kiss you.

“What, this old thing?” He attempts to brush off your flattery, because next to you, there is positively no way anyone could compete with your beauty.

Bucky gulps the excessive saliva pooling in his mouth as his eyes roam your frame once again, because he can’t help but literally drool over how stunning you look - can’t believe that he gets to be the one who walks into the gala tonight with you on his arm.

The only other time he has felt this utterly floored by someone’s appearance was the first time he laid eyes on you as you strolled across the ER on that now historic day when he could not believe someone in scrubs and a lab coat could look so breathtakingly beautiful.

“You are genuinely the most gorgeous woman I have ever laid eyes on.”

Bucky’s fearful that you won’t actually believe his statement, even though they are perhaps the most honest words that have ever left his lips. It’s no secret that before he met you, Bucky had enjoyed sleeping around - had entertained more than his fair share of attractive women in his bed, but after just one month officially as your boyfriend, becoming intimately familiar with your beautiful soul, he has zero doubts that you are the only woman he wants in that position for the remainder of his life.

You kiss him in the breath after he finishes speaking, in that luscious, sensual way that no one else has ever kissed him and evokes a warm, fuzzy, almost life-ruining devotion, dare he say love, in his chest.

“Let’s just stay here tonight.” Bucky mumbles against your lips, his hands finding the zipper on the back of your dress and slowly unzips to let the fabric fall from your décolletage.

He can feel you smile against his lips but then you bruise his heart by pulling away and saying “As much as I would prefer to spend the whole night naked here with you, I’ve already been told I cannot miss this event.”

However, they aren’t words which scare Bucky away from a challenge, he dives back into the kiss, the tip of his tongue tangling with yours. He thinks he has you convinced when your hands start playing with the hair at the nape of his neck - you know how much he likes it and do it constantly to turn him on, but then you pull back and Bucky sighs.

“You’re insatiable, aren’t you?”

“Only when it comes to you.” He responds with a chuckle. You’re the only woman who’s ever had him whipped before, and Bucky’s not sure you realise how powerful the hold you have over him is.

“I promise, all we have to do is last an hour at this thing, and then you can take me home and have your way with me.”

* * *

You walk into the Gala, which is already packed with hospital staff dressed to the nines, hand in hand with Bucky who, in your opinion, looks magnitudes more handsome than any of the other men all dressed in black suits.

You turn to him and he’s already looking at you with that sparkle in his eye, like you’re absolutely perfect, just as you are, and there is nothing about you he would ever dream of changing.

“What?” You ask when those twinkling eyes don’t look away, but instead study your features as if there’s words left unsaid on the tip of his tongue.

“Just imagining pulling you into one of the on-call rooms, tearing this dress off you and tasting every inch of you.” Bucky shifts his hand to rest on the small of your back, his breath warm against your ear sending a shiver down your spine.

“Well, we have done some of our best work in there.” Bucky hums in agreement, both of you taking a second to remember the first of many visits to the on-call room which left you with shaking legs, but was also the first time either of you acknowledged that your feelings were deeper than simply hooking up. “I think you need to grab us both a drink to quench that thirst of yours, James.”

You playfully slap his chest, giving him a kiss on the cheek, and then proceeding to rub your lipstick stain off, before pushing him along to get you a drink. He looks back at you as he walks away, almost bumping into the Chief of Surgery, apologising profusely with a guilty glance to you, before he shuffles off towards the bar.

While Bucky is busy with that task, you instead make your way over to the other side of the atrium to take a look at the items available for the hospital's silent auction. You have to chuckle to yourself looking at the prices listed on the bidding sheets - as if anyone with medical school debt could afford to pay for even one of the allusive holidays or artefacts they had obtained for the fundraiser.

But you suppose your job tonight isn’t to bid on the items themselves, but to shmooze the wealthy guests in attendance into bidding with their spare millions.

Searching out one of the items at the lower end of asking prices, you decide to put an almost embarrassing low bid on an all expenses paid weekend to Mexico, that you know someone will outbid you on, just to say you participated in the night without needing to lie through your teeth.

You stroll through the busy hall, keeping your eyes peeled for Bucky near the bar but it seems you’ve lost him in the packed crowd. It’s usually fairly easy to spot your tall, broad boyfriend, and your heart sinks a little that you’re forced to walk aimlessly around the event as everyone else is wrapped in conversation.

“Doctor, lovely to run into you like this.” You hear a voice you’ve heard before but cannot place from behind you. And though you can’t actually see their face, the tone of their voice contradicts their words - they don’t seem pleased to see you at all.

Turning around, a face that evokes prickly apprehension in your chest comes into view. She’s hauntingly beautiful, the type of beauty which artists spend hours trying to commit to canvas and which is just not attainable for regular people like yourself. She holds herself like she’s closing out a Victoria Secret fashion show and is fully aware of the enchanting effect she has on any man who sets eyes upon her.

“Jacqui… I didn’t know pharmacy staff were invited to this thing.” Even with her disagreeable inflection, you do your best to sound pleasant.

“Oh well you are when you’re heading up the department.” She boasts, with a little wobble of her head which you mostly think is to draw attention to her shiny, voluminous blonde hair.

So is she just here to rub her new job title in your face?

“Congratulations, I didn’t know you got promoted.” You try to sound genuine even though you really couldn’t give a shit.

“I saw you walk in with Barnes. Where did he scamper off to?” You are now actually very glad to not have found Bucky in the crowd earlier. Something about the way she is trying to control the curiosity in her voice, and that she was actively watching the two of you together, makes you cautious of her intentions.

“Not sure, I was just looking for him.”

There’s a long pause where both of you refuse to be the next one to speak. You just want this conversation to be over. But you aren’t that lucky.

“How long have you two been together now?” The inquiry is almost punctuated with sharp spite, and though you don’t want to indulge her line of questioning, there’s a voice in the back of your head that’s telling you you need to defend your Bucky from whatever that time is implying.

“A couple months.” Is the defensive response you retort - it’s technically correct, though you’ve only been official for a month of that.

“Months… how much can someone really change in a couple of months? There’s so many of us around the hospital he’s fucked. You really think he’s loyal to you?” You recoil at her words, not having expected the conversation to turn into whatever this was becoming, nor so soon into your small talk.

Where the fuck was this coming from?

“I trust him implicitly.” You attempt to control the absolute bewildered facial expression that’s trying it’s very best to overtake your features.

“Oh you poor, naive thing.” She says with a tone you use when delivering bad news to patients' families. “Men don’t change, they just hide their true nature from you. Wait a few months, he’ll be back to his fuckboy ways, guys like him can’t resist cheating. I guarantee it.”

Most men are like that, at least in your experience. But Bucky has never given you any cause to believe he would treat you like that. Just because he had a reputation of casually sleeping around before meeting you, doesn’t mean once he’s in a relationship he’ll be unfaithful.

You can’t imagine the sweet man who walked into your place tonight with his eyes closed, waiting for your consent to see you fully dolled up in your gown and then proceed to call you the most beautiful woman he has ever laid eyes on, would ever cheat on you.

“You don’t know him like I do and have no right to speak about him like that.” You state firmly with a small humph. If you weren’t at an event packed with your colleagues, you’d slap her.

The look in her eyes appears like you’ve challenged her, but you don’t want to think about the connotations of that right now. Without saying goodbye, you turn on your heel, needing to get as far away from her as quickly as possible.

Rippling anxiety bubbles in your chest that in your experience only Bucky’s touch can soothe. You frantically search for him in the sea of black suits, trying to also keep half an eye out for Jacqui so you don’t accidentally run into her, but he is again nowhere to be found.

Where the hell is Bucky? Your mind practically screams as you bump into a strapping chest, but this one unfortunately belongs to the one and only Thor Odinson.

God, could he have worse timing?

You plaster on your best smile, trying your best to keep a calm facade as he introduces you to two older gentlemen he appears to be chaperoning for the night.

As wealthy and influential as they are, having made their billions from a tech empire started with a little trust fund from their families' generational wealth, you can’t find it in you to care at the minute. You just want to find Bucky. Need him to hold you until the tornado of anxiety dissipates in your chest.

But Thor doesn’t allow you to slip away unnoticed, instead he prompts you to talk up the work the team does in the emergency room, speaking about the people you save from all walks of life, from those without health insurance to the affluent who can afford the life saving medical procedures others fail to receive.

Knowing their donations tonight could mean the difference between many getting life saving medicine and not, you summon the will to engage in conversation, trying to push down the acidic bile bubbling in your stomach that had risen as result of your interaction with Jacqui.

The sharp taste remains on your tongue as you’re now caught in philanthropic discussion, silently cursing Thor who stands beside you for ever inviting you to this damn gala in the first place.

It’s at least fifteen minutes later when you finally excuse yourself from their presence, the two men having pulled out their cheque books, much to Thor’s delight, preparing to make generous contributions that would have the hospital naming wards after them.

You hate to think what trouble Jacqui could get up to in that time frame. But you don’t have to wait long to find out.

Finally, after searching near the whole hall for Bucky you find him. Goddess like Jacqui by his side.

She stands there, supermodel tall, blonde bouncy hair, beautiful, toned legs on display through the slit in her dress, a flirty smirk curving on her face, tucking strands of loose hair behind her ears like a schoolgirl with a crush.

The nerve of her, approaching Bucky at all, but especially after the words spoken between you earlier.

Just seeing them together, the most exquisitely gorgeous woman flirting with the man whom you love and confirmed less than half an hour ago to her you are in a relationship with, makes your insides tightly twist with jealousy, as if someone were wringing out a wet towel.

Half of your mind is telling you to stalk over there and possessively claim your man in front of everybody, but the other half, the insecure side which believes Bucky could do so much better than you, who would want someone as beautiful as Jacqui by his side, and which is currently winning the battle in your mind, wants to run off crying into the furthest corner of the hospital.

Coming to a compromise, your brain instead decides that being frozen in place, unable to look away like an impending car crash, is the best place for you to be. But that is also pure torture.

Bucky smiles, not quite his signature cocky smirk that never leaves his face when the two of you are together, but it’s definitely a smile nonetheless and your heart sinks through the pit of your stomach.

Men don’t change. He’ll be back to his fuckboy ways.

You’re not sure why you’re letting Jacqui’s words penetrate your mind, burrow into the deepest crevices and allow them to make a home there. You suspect it’s because at one point in time Bucky thought she was desirable enough to take home and do unexplainably filthy things with. Does he still have that same attraction for her?

What if you are just Bucky’s practice run at being in a relationship, the one who fixes him up, teaches him all the valuable lessons, only for him to leave you and be the perfect partner to someone else?

Practically paralysed in place as you watch their interaction, it feels like your heart has stopped beating all together when Jacqui strokes his arm. But buoyant relief comes near milliseconds later when Bucky brushes her off. That’s your man.

You can’t hear what they’re saying, but you distinctly see him mouth the words ‘I have a girlfriend’, which relieves some of the tension in your tightly wound heart.

Bucky frantically searches around the room, and appears to have found what he is looking for as his eyes settle on your face.

There’s a split second where the whole world stands still, everyone at the gala other than the two of you disappear and it’s like you’re standing right in front of him, regardless of the space separating you.

But when your mind catches up to all the drowning emotions swirling in your chest, an uncontrollable sob bubbles up your throat and tears sting your eyes. You’re not even upset with him, but the fear of what Jacqui had been planning on trying with him still manifests as a choking lump in your throat.

The physical distance between you throughout tonight has let doubt and hesitancy creep into the only small space in your heart Bucky’s affection has not yet touched. Jacqui planted the seed and it’s already bloomed into a large tree, branches crowding space in your tightening chest.

The last thing you remember seeing is Bucky taking a large stride towards you, before your hands fly to cover your mouth and you take off, walking as quickly as you can in your heels, to where you know the nearest on-call room is.

* * *

Prickling panic fills Bucky’s lungs.

Has he inadvertently just ruined the best thing in his life?

Jacqueline’s voice calls his name as he chases after you, watching as you weave between guests and make your way to the nearest exit, which only takes you deeper into the hospital.

He was naive enough to think Jacqueline’s intentions were innocent when she approached him for conversation, just two colleagues catching up at an event that neither of them were fully participating in, but he was sadly mistaken.

He’ll never make that blunder again.

Watching you shuffle into the nearest on-call room, Bucky takes it as a positive sign that he’s not the one you’re upset with, at least not completely, when you don’t slam the door in his face but instead leave it open knowing he’ll follow you inside.

Bucky stays by the doorframe for a split second, watching as you work to steady your breathing, hands wiping the corners of your eyes, but the overwhelming urge and the need to comfort you wins out and he can’t help but hastily rush to your side.

“Darling…” He starts to say but when you look at him with big, wide eyes that are filled with tears, his mind goes blank and all he can think about is holding you.

You turn into his chest, face nuzzled into his lapel, and his arms instinctively close around you.

It’s the little sob which escapes your lips that does Bucky in completely. He hates to see you upset, but never in the months of knowing you has he been privy to this amount of genuine distress. He’s seen some not so great days, shaking frustration, even teary eyed with sadness, but never breaking down weeping.

He would move heaven and earth to ensure you never feel this way again.

He places a feather light kiss to your hairline whispering, “I’m right here. Nothing can hurt you.”

Though it was not his intention, his words provoke more sobs to escape your throat and Bucky pulls you ever closer. He’s practically holding up your entire body weight, and decides you’ll probably be much more comfortable on the bed this on-call room provides.

Even seated, you cling to him like he’s your lifeline, and Bucky can’t ever imagine letting go. He’d drown if it meant holding you safely out of the rough, relentless rapids currently flooding your mind.

As a paramedic, he’s so used to taking action, launching into a crisis with the equipment to be able to provide aid, to prevent further suffering. But right now all you need is his presence, to be the anchor grounding you to this world as a reminder that you have someone in your corner fighting for your happiness.

He hates not being able to do more for you.

“Can you tell me what’s wrong?” Bucky asks after minutes of comforting you without words.

God, you feel so stupid. Crying at a work function because one of your boyfriend's ex-flings decided to flirt with him.

But it’s more than that - it’s the disrespect, the fact that she seems so entitled to Bucky’s affection simply because at some point in his history he slept with her, regardless of if she hurts you along the way to get to him. Do all the women at the hospital look at you like you’re an inconsequential ant they can step on to get what they want?

It doesn’t help that she's also the most stunning, physical personification of a man’s wet dream you’ve ever seen.

“It’s not you Buck, it’s her.”

He doesn’t answer immediately, just continues rubbing his large hand up and down your back, which tells you he’s confused by your statement. Perhaps you’re not making any sense in this outburst of emotion, you can barely keep your thoughts in a logical stream let alone expressing them eloquently.

“Jacqui, she… I told her we were together, she knew I was your girlfriend, and she still had the nerve to flirt with you.”

“I didn’t flirt back.” Bucky says defensively, and as much as you adore him, it’s making you frustrated having to spell it out for him how her actions have made you feel when your throat is aching from pure emotion.

You take a deep breath, allowing oxygen to diffuse into the deepest alveoli of your lungs, calming the constant stream of anxious thoughts, and letting you regain control of the tears falling from your eyes.

You lean your head on Bucky’s shoulder as he continues to rub your back. Why can’t the world just exist like this? Just the two of you in peaceful, quiet, solace. He kisses the top of your head and in that moment you know he’ll wait patiently, all night if that’s how long it takes, for you to explain how you’re feeling.

“I don’t know if it’s jealousy or insecurity. I genuinely don’t care how many women you were with before me Buck, it’s just a number, it doesn’t matter.” You sit up and look him in the eye, needing to convey just how vigorously you believe your statement. “It’s just… it's a soul crushing feeling that people in the hospital, people I have to work with every day, use the fact that you’ve slept with them to make me feel uncomfortable. That somehow because they know what you look like naked it diminishes our relationship and then they feel entitled to flirt with you and try and fuck you even though they know you’re dating me.”

The misery in Bucky’s eyes is almost tangible, and maybe it’s just an illusion from tears in your own, but seeing you hurting makes him start to cry too. His large hands engulf both of yours and his thumb strokes the backs of your hands resting comfortingly in your lap.

Previous partners have always brushed you off, gaslit you or raised their voice and called you crazy when you expressed an ounce of self-doubt or insecurity, but Bucky listens to each of your words with a determined focus, taking the weight of them on himself, as if they have just as much significance to him as they do to you.

“Darling, I’m so sorry Jaqueline made you feel that way. She had no right. But you need to know there is not a single woman on the face of this earth that could tempt me away from you, no matter how hard they try. No one has ever had me like you do.”

The panic beating of your heart starts to calm when Bucky places gentle kisses to your knuckles. His eyes brim with trepidation, as if he’s just realised how fragile relationships can be and he’s desperately trying to hold onto you, preventing you from ever letting go again.

“I can’t change my past, as much as I might want to, but all I know is you’re my future.” Tears trickle out of the corners of your eyes, but now the reason being due to happiness at Bucky’s sweet confession.

What did you ever do to deserve him?

“My life before I met you was dull, black and white reruns of the same shit each day. Since I met you, everything is in vivid colour. If I could go back in time and wait for you, I would. If I knew you were around the corner, there wouldn’t be any other women. But to me, you’re the only woman that matters. It’s so profoundly better with you because I-, because I care about you beyond comprehension. There were never any feelings with anyone else. You are the only person I have ever felt this way for. You have nothing to be insecure about or anyone to be jealous of, you’re the only woman in my eyes, and I-, you’re my everything.” For someone who constantly says he isn’t very good with words, Bucky always seems to know exactly what to say to make you fall even more in love with him. They are perfect words. Precisely what you need to hear from the man who has quickly become the reason for your being.

There’s a buoyancy in your chest as those familiar eyes, so blue you could drown in, examine your face for any non verbal cues of how you’ll react to his words.

“You really feel that way James?” You ready yourself, inadvertently grinding your teeth, waiting, hoping, wishing for him to say those three little words that will take your relationship to the next level.

But that hope pops like a bubble floating in the wind.

“Darling, I would never lie to you.” He punctuates with a kiss to your lips, slow and fervent, full of meaning. The look in his eye tells you he wants to reveal more, but it passes in a blink. “C’mon, let me take you home, and I’ll show you just how much I care.”

Bucky’s firm hold on your hand never leaves yours as he leads you back through the gala. You notice some glance at you, but all you’re focussed on is your boyfriend, his head held proudly high, not giving a damn what other hospital staff are whispering under their breaths.

* * *

Bucky slowly unzips the back of your dress, the material slowly falling away from your shoulders. A shiver runs down your spine as his lips kiss down the path of the zipper, starting between your shoulder blades, careful not to miss a single inch of skin as your dress bunches around your stomach and hips.

“You were the most beautiful woman there tonight. You’re the most beautiful woman in the whole world.” He whispers against your skin, in such a sure tone you can’t help but believe him. His hands roaming over the base of your spine before gently pulling your dress over your hips. “Can’t believe I got to be the man who walked in with you as my partner.”

Bucky turns you around to kiss you once you’re bare for him. The passion, zealousness of his lips feels like you’re drowning in a tender devotion he could not articulate with just words themselves.

You don’t need to break away from the kiss to push his jacket off, unbutton his shirt, nor unbuckle his belt. He’s as hard as a rock, standing at attention ready for you as soon as his trousers hit the floor.

“My darling girl…” He practically growls in your ear when you cup his balls with one hand as the other starts stroking him, using your thumb to spread the pearly bead of precum over his tip whilst placing kisses to his chest. “This will be a very short, one act play if you keep doing that.”

“I’ve barely touched you Buck.”

“Mmm, I know. That’s just how much you turn me on.” The signature smirk he shoots you turns your stomach to mush, and makes you feel like you’re the dazzling sun at the centre of his universe.

Bucky’s large hands pull you down on the bed, on top of him. He sits you on his thick thighs, tongue sweeping into your mouth, hands exploring your every curve.

You wish you could live in this moment forever, relishing in how much care Bucky holds you with, but still manages to make you feel like you’re the sexiest woman in the solar system.

It hits you square in the chest when his soothing, wide blue eyes look up at you with a familiar tenderness that gives life to butterflies in your stomach, that you would do anything for the man underneath you, the man you love.

“What do you want, darling?” Bucky asks between breaths as he sucks on your hard nipple, his tongue swirling, doing magical things that could make you cum just like this. “What do you need?” He adds, switching to your other breast, which makes it hard to control your stream of thoughts - but there is one thing at the forefront of your mind that you don’t have to consider to know you need desperately.

“You.”

He lets out a groan around your nipple and you suspect thrusts his hips up involuntarily, just to feel closer to you.

“I need you Buck.” You repeat, tucking your finger under his chin and bringing his lips up to tenderly touch yours, as the urge to kiss him overcomes you. If it were up to you, the remainder of your life would be spent with your lips locked with his.

“How?” His stubble scratches the tips of your fingers as you cup his face. The desire brimming in his eyes, the hunger to ravish every part of you, the yearning to have you so close to him you can’t tell where you end and he begins, leaves you breathless.

“Just like this, please.” Your voice is barely above a whisper, but your imploring tone inspires Bucky on, not wanting to waste a single second more where the two of you are not joined.

Your forehead rests against his, his eyes boring into yours as he simultaneously uses one hand to assist you lifting yourself to hover over him, and the other to line his tip up to your dripping entrance.

An obscene sound from the back of your throat topples from your lips as you sink down on Bucky's cock. He doesn’t take his adoration filled eyes off you for a single second, even to blink, as he fills you up completely. A whine escapes his lips once you’re seated on his thighs, appreciating how your pussy is swallowing his entire, impressive length.

“You enjoy sitting on your throne?” You can tell he’s trying to tease, a mischievous twinkle in those deep blue eyes, but his voice quivers slightly, almost as if it’s strained, which you know him too well to realise is a dead giveaway for just how aroused he is.

How aroused he is by you.

That fact alone is enough for you to start grinding against him, hips moving back and forth, working up a rhythm that has you seeing stars and him groaning your name.

Both of his large, calloused hands are resting on your hips, helping you keep the tempo, making sure each rock of your hips results in your clit being stimulated against his pelvis. His lips find your collarbone, teeth scraping your delicate skin, the sensation of which clears your mind of any coherent teasing response you could have come up with.

“Fuck, look at you fucking yourself on me. You’re a fucking dream.” Bucky’s mouth is one of the most arousing parts of him, not only for what his lips and tongue can do to your body but also for the salacious words he speaks in that gravelly tone which turns you on just as much as his body does. “That’s it, fuck me darling, this cock is all yours.”

“Buck you’re so deep.” Is all you can think, all you can feel is how his length is nestled within you, how much he fills you up. You’re bursting because of how satiated you feel with him inside you, but Bucky’s musky, woody scent, as well as his warm, tender touch surrounds you from the outside, you feel like he’s everywhere all at once, and it brings you right to the brink of coming undone.

“Be a good girl and cum for me.” In this moment you want to give him everything you have, give him everything he’s asking for and more. His voice is gentle the next time he speaks, a murmur just for you, and matches the softness in his gaze. “It’s okay, I got you. Let go for me.”

Bucky sucks the pulse point on the side of your throat and it’s the complete end of you. You shudder, feeling safe caged in his arms as ecstasy fires up from the base of your spine through every neuron in your body, your toes curling, fingers scratching down Bucky's back - you can even taste it on the tip of your tongue as you scream his name.

Your legs shake uncontrollably, unable to continue your pattern of movement grinding down against him, but Bucky takes matters into his own hands by wrapping his arms around your waist and fucking up into you to prolong your high.

Once you’ve finally stopped seeing stars, your vision coming back into focus, all you can see is the adoration, pure captivation as he looks up at your sweaty form trying to catch your breath.

“That’s the most beautiful sight I’ve ever seen.”

No one’s ever looked at you like this before, as if you’re the only girl in the world, the only person that matters to them, the one who holds their fragile heart in the palm of your hands and trusts you not to break it.

A dangerous thought flashes through your mind - do you dare tell Bucky that you love him for the first time right now, in the middle of the throes of passion. You have always wanted to let him set the pace of the relationship - he was the one who wanted to take it slow, not rushing into anything, but you can tell by the blooming warmth spreading through your chest, you have never loved someone more than you love him right now.

Bucky reaches up and affectionately brushes his thumb over the apple of your cheek, and before you can think twice about if you truly want to confess your devotion in this moment, he’s kissing you again.

Before you can even recognise what he’s doing, his toned arms have engulfed you in a tight embrace, and without pulling out of you, he flips you onto your back, making sure your head rests gently on one of your pillows. His body weight presses you deliciously into the mattress, it feels like being tucked in securely with a weighted blanket that just so happens to look like a Greek god.

“Need to feel you cum on my cock again, it’s so fucking addicting.” Bucky practically growls in your ear, his breathing heavy. His long chestnut hair falls into his eyes, but it doesn’t prevent him from gazing at you with a tangible combination of awe and lust.

The thrust of his hips is downright sinful. You feel the longing absence of each inch of him as he pulls out, only for him to split you apart again as his hips snap forward. Bucky starts out slow, his fingers intertwine with yours, forcing your hands above your head, but when he starts placing open mouthed kisses on the underside of your jaw, his strokes pick up momentum.

James Barnes has you in a trance, caged in by the sheer size of him, each languid, sensual thrust into you tightens the knot twisting into shape at the bottom of your belly.

He’s so breathtakingly beautiful, the most gorgeous person you’ve ever laid eyes on. As his shining pupils fixate on the pleasure contorting your face you ponder if he is possibly thinking the exact same way about you.

The moans dripping from his lips, mixed with grunted curses, along with the telltale crease in his forehead, and the fact that his teasing mouth can’t come up with anything coherent is evidence of how close he is. But you know Bucky’s generous heart better than anyone, perhaps even himself, and you are sure he’ll be determined not to cum before you.

One of his large hands continues to pin your wrists down as the other moves to wrap your legs tighter around his waist. Then he has the fucking audacity to rub the pads of his fingers over your clit in tight circles. You’re so done for.

“Bucky, oh fuck… yes, just like that.” You manage to stammer out, barely able to move with his weight pinning you beneath him, knowing your body is hurtling towards an inescapable, forceful orgasm, and all you can do is feel as Bucky plays your body like a fiddle.

“Please, need you to… I can’t last like this.” You can feel the desperate, animalistic timbre of his deep voice in your chest and his hot breath against your neck. “Darling please.”

And then you shatter.

Fracture into a million pieces, the fabric of reality tearing apart at the seams around you as euphoria flows through you like wind on the surface of water. Every single cell in your body feels like it’s been lit on fire, burning bright like a shooting star soaring through a galaxy assembled by your love for him.

Bucky speaks your name as a prayer, a vow, a promise. Over and over again. A reminder that you are who he is coming apart for.

It almost makes you dizzy how lost he is in the feel of you, how his hands spread you open as far as your legs will flex, but then you hear the wanton whimper as he spills his orgasm inside you and it’s almost enough to make you cum again.

As your heart rates slowly return to normal, Bucky lays down beside you, cupping your face tenderly as his tongue slips once again into your mouth. You would have thought given the display of passion just produced he’d have had his fill of physical affection, but he continues to surprise you.

Who would have guessed that Bucky ‘doesn’t go on second dates’ Barnes would now be clinging to you like a koala, not being able to get enough of your touch.

* * *

“Sweet dreams Buck.” You whisper in that tired, yet sickly sweet tone that Bucky associates with the contentment of falling asleep beside you.

”They’ll all be about you.” He responds with a delicate kiss to your forehead, fingers tracing gentle lines up and down the expanse of your back.

“Then I wish you nothing but dirty dreams.”

He rarely dreams of anything else nowadays, but it makes him smile nevertheless that your minds think in such similar ways.

You really are the girl of his dreams.

Even more than that, if there was an expression which captured just how significant you had become intertwined in his life after a relatively short period of time. His brain could not have concocted someone as perfect as you, even in his wildest fantasies.

He holds you close to him in the total darkness as your breathing slows, but there are too many thoughts racing through Bucky’s brain for him to fall asleep.

Tonight was perfect. Complete, utter perfection. Not that he expects any less of a night spent with you.

So why, even after building the courage all week ahead of the gala, (and if he was honest with himself, since the week he swapped to be on the night shift with you), had he yet to utter those three magic words?

Steve would say there was one final wall around Bucky’s heart he had yet to pull down for you, to reveal his deepest darkest vulnerability that he could barely admit to himself, let alone the flawless woman who consumed his every waking thought.

The insecurity he had been plagued with since he was fourteen years old and his father had wished death upon him.

The fear that he is innately unloveable.

Just because he loves you in a way that influences his every decision, impacts every aspect of his existence, and alters the chemistry of his brain, doesn’t mean you are as hauntingly consumed by devotion as he is.

And even though the rational part of his brain tries reminding him you would not have shown such patience and stuck around as he clumsily attempted to manoeuvre being in a relationship for the first time if you truly did not want to be with him, that nagging insecurity is always at the back of his mind like a fog that won’t clear, doubting whether after everything he has endured, if he is deserving of being loved the same way he adores you.

But at some point Bucky knows he needs to find the bravery to take that leap, even if your possible rejection would be his ultimate downfall.

“Darling?” Bucky whispers as quietly as he can into the still night air. You don’t stir, nor do you respond, which is exactly what he’s hoping for. “Darling, are you awake?” He questions slightly louder so that you couldn’t help but hear him considering his proximity.

You continue to rest peacefully, lips slightly parted and breathing steadily, which is precisely how you always appear when sleeping beside him, but given the gravity of what he is about to reveal to you, Bucky has to be absolutely positive you’re in a deep slumber.

“Chicken butt.” He says randomly, hoping that if you are feigning sleep this will cause a crack in your rather convincing facade. But to his delight, your expression doesn’t change in the slightest, no muscle in your face so much as flinches, and Bucky is finally convinced.

He takes a deep breath, readying himself even though he knows you’re unable to hear him.

“I love you.” Bucky confesses with a shaky breath, even though he is assured in his affection. Though you’re not conscious to receive his words, something about disclosing his most closely guarded secret to your beautiful face, finally admitting his profound feelings aloud, feels like an enormous step for him. Never in a million years did he think he could open his heart up far enough to allow space for these types of feelings to nestle within. “You are the most precious thing in my life. I’m never going to compromise what we have, never going to take you for granted. I’m going to love you and only you for every day I have left in this life and even when I’m no longer here, my soul will forever be yours.”

You provide no response, features stay perfectly still, breathing rate doesn’t change. Which is of course exactly the reaction he’s hoping for while you rest, but he can’t stop his mind from wondering what your reply might be if you were awake; if you’d profess the words back to him, or if instead you’d recoil, shying away possibly because Bucky was moving too quickly.

Nevertheless, Bucky knows better than most that life can be painfully short, everyone has their expiration date, and you need to tell the people in your life how much you care about them before it’s too late.

“I love you.” He repeats with a smile and a kiss to your bare shoulder. Though he is navigating the all consuming, anxiety riddled, life ruining feeling of falling in love for the first time, Bucky knows with absolute certainty that he would go through it all again, one hundred times over, if it meant getting to spend his life with you.

But now for the difficult part - he has to say those three life changing words when you’re actually awake to hear them.

* * *

When the irritating ringing of your alarm wakes you up the following morning, a wave of disappointment washes over you. The night before with Bucky had been nothing short of memorable; complete with overflowing emotion, devotion, and no hint of apprehension from the man who had previously told you himself he wanted to take the relationship slow.

It was the most tangible display of pure love you have ever beheld.

But now, you lay alone in a web of cold sheets, Bucky’s place beside you unnaturally empty. When he has an early shift, typically he wakes you before he leaves, and at the very least gives you a kiss on the forehead, if not a much more intimate show of affection. But today, you have no recollection of being woken, no memory of his pillow soft lips on yours.

You find it takes a much more determined effort to get out of bed without an energising kiss from your Bucky.

The gala is the talk of the hospital, those who did not receive an invite interrogating everyone who attended for all the latest gossip. You hear your and Bucky’s names dropped a couple times in passing conversation, but all that does is remind you of the night before, and Bucky proclaiming his devotion to you while extracting a pleasure from your body no one else has been able to produce.

Tonight, you promise yourself, those three small words that have been tugging at your mind for the last month, tonight you’ll tell Bucky.

His declaration of wanting to take your relationship slowly was all the way back before your second date, before you officially became his girlfriend, before you held him as his mother underwent life saving surgery, before you knew of his traumatic past, before he switched to the night shift just so he could see you more often, before last night where he told you you are his everything.

Regardless of if he says the words back, you need to tell him. Need him to know that he is the love of your life, that synapses in your brain have reformed so your train of thought always comes back to him, that he has rewritten the molecular code inscribed in your cells so that they crave him like water, drawing him in like osmosis.

Your thoughts are interrupted by your pager going off, calling an all hands on deck emergency.

The ER is a frenzy of nurses clearing trauma rooms, doctors discharging patients who have already been seen to and Dr Strange shouting at surgical staff to prepare the operating rooms.

“There was a shooting at the mall. Police and paramedics are on scene, but it sounds bad.” Wanda fills you in as you both wash your hands and put gloves on, getting ready for the volume of blood and carnage that comes with gunshot wounds.

Dr Strange gathers the emergency medicine team together to brief you all on what you’re about to face. His face is stoic, having treated too many disasters to even seem phased by the decimation of so many lives.

You have not mastered that, but you also like having your humanity, caring about people is what you do best.

“So far we know of eight victims being routed here. There will most likely be more. All G.S.Ws, five women, two men and a child, about eight. One of the men was a paramedic on scene.” The last sentence out of his mouth gives you pause.

A male paramedic was shot.

“A paramedic? Did they say who? Give a description?” All eyes turn to you and no one needs to say it aloud to know exactly what you’re thinking.

“No, that’s all the information we have at this time. They should only be a few minutes out.” You’ve never known Dr Strange to be very sympathetic, but the look he shoots at you is what you assume to be the most compassion he is capable of.

The nagging part of your brain that always finds a route to the most devastating scenario, no matter how unlikely, is screaming so loudly you cannot ignore it.

What if that paramedic is Bucky?

There would have to be thousands of paramedics in a city of this size, what would the chances actually be that Bucky is the one paramedic in critical danger at this very moment.

But the universe has always found a way to be cruel to you, with the exception of when it brought devilishly handsome Bucky Barnes into your life. But what could be more cruel than introducing you to unconditional love and then destroying your heart by taking it away just as swiftly?

Wanda, sensing your paralysing worry beside her, comfortingly strokes her hand up and down your upper arm. “He was working the morning shift today, his shift will be well and truly over. He shouldn’t have been working when the shooting happened.”

“Yeah… he was on morning shift today.” Reminding yourself how you woke up in bed alone. Your lips tremble as you attempt to talk yourself down from the ledge of sheer panic. But your best friend can tell this fact doesn’t convince you.

“Call him.” Wanda instructs with a level voice, only a small glisten in her pupils gives away that she too is worried for his safety.

Your hands are shaking uncontrollably as you locate his contact in your favourites, accidentally dialling your mum first before you see the picture you have of the two of you together set as his contact pop up as it starts ringing.

Time stands perfectly still, the bustling hospital which is always full of movement, the constant beeping of patients pulse oximeters, announcements sounding over the PA, it all goes dead silent and all you hear is the ring tone of a phone call which Bucky isn’t answering.

Pick up. Pick up. Pick up.

It goes to voicemail, his voice filling your ears but it’s of no relief because it’s only a recording.

You press his contact again.

And again.

And again.

The fourth time you’re forced to listen to his infuriating voicemail, you leave a panicked message. “Bucky I’m so worried about you, please ring me back as soon as you get this. There’s been a shooting. Please, I need to hear your voice, hear that you’re alright. Please.”

You thought he’d pick up the phone and relieve you from this torment, but now knowing he hasn’t answered after multiple calls, you’re more convinced than ever it’s him that’s been shot.

“Wanda if it’s-”

“You can’t think like that.” But that's all you can think about. Your job, the duty you have to these patients who are en route to the hospital, none of that comes close to the need to know Bucky is unharmed.

The world starts moving in slow motion as the first of the patients arrives. Time runs like molasses, but the anxiety in your chest turns up one hundred fold, as if flashes of lightning strike your chest one after another.

A woman gets pushed in on a gurney, light brown hair stained with blood, and even from the sight of how the paramedic needs to hold her skull flap to her head to prevent her brain being exposed, you know she won’t make it as much as the surgeons will try to save her.

There’s a child, not much bigger than Sasha who you treated the day you first met Bucky, that gets pushed through next. In complete juxtaposition, she’s sitting up talking to paramedics, arm in a sling, but mostly looks unharmed.

And then you see it. The thing that flatlines your heart.

Chestnut hair and an EMT uniform.

You’d know those thick, wavy locks anywhere.

“Bucky!” You don’t even recognise your own voice with how much terror it is consumed with. This can’t be happening. This can’t be real.

In a flash you’re by his side, keeping pace as they wheel him deeper into the hospital, your lungs and throat scorching with distress.

You try not to break down seeing the sheer amount of blood, Bucky’s blood, soaking the gauze they are pressing into his shoulder wound, how pale and fragile he looks strapped down to the gurney. You’re an emergency medicine doctor, you’ve treated wounds like this before, confronted much more blood than this from a patient. But nothing in your training prepares you for observing your soulmate barely clinging to life, their claret staining your gloved fingers as you help maintain pressure, how cold his skin is to the touch, how his face looks almost serene even though these could be his final moments on earth, that he could be abandoning you for the warm embrace of death.

Not your Bucky. They can’t take your Bucky.

“Buck, can you hear me?” Your hand cups his cheek, and he’s as cold as ice. His eyes are shut so he can’t even look at you to give you one last chance to memorise the astonishingly blue irises which have been your source of solace since meeting him.

A mask covers his mouth and nose, delivering rescue breaths. You try to place a block in your mind to stop it from retrieving the medical knowledge you have spent years memorising - you don’t want to know how catastrophic a situation his body must be in to be needing rescue breaths.

“I love you, James. You hear me? I love you!” It almost ends your existence when he doesn’t answer, doesn’t even so much as flinch at your confession. You hope any part of him that is still alive inside the casing of his cold body manages to hear those words.

Dr Strange and Wanda have to physically restrain you from following the team treating Bucky and prevent you entering the operating theatre.

Dr Strange’s voice sounds like a hum, too far away to make sense of even though he’s pushing you away from the OR. All you’re focussed on is keeping your eyes on Bucky for as long as you can.

Is this the last time you will ever see him alive?

It’s only once he is out of sight, that your brain starts to catch up to the realisation of what has actually happened.

Bucky was shot. A bullet ripped through his skin, tearing muscle and fascia, lacerating his organs, possibly fatally wounding him.

Bullets are designed to kill. To end the life of the organism the gun barrel is aimed at. There is no mercy from a gunshot wound, you had seen too many to believe better.

A guttural cry forces its way out of your parched windpipe without you being able to prevent it, your kneecaps sting as you fall to the ground. Hot, large tears cascade onto your cheeks as Wanda’s arms engulf you.

Any second now, James Buchanan Barnes’ heart could be taking its final beat and you wouldn’t be any wiser. His lungs would stop breathing, preventing oxygen from binding to hemoglobin in his blood and reaching his brain. Everything else would shut down quickly from there.

One second he’d be here and the next he wouldn’t.

James Barnes simply wouldn’t exist anymore.

You had seen it too often, heard from bereaved family members time and time again how quickly it had all happened, but it wasn’t until this very moment that you understood the magnitude of that sentiment.

How could he go from telling you yesterday night that you were the most beautiful sight he had ever laid eyes on to now possibly his cold, lifeless body laying on an operating table with his soul having crossed over to the afterlife?

You’d never hear his voice again. Or his laugh.

Never see his dazzling sapphire eyes as they regard you with overwhelming affection.

Never feel that warm rapture blooming in your chest when he’d proclaim himself as yours and kiss you in the same breath.

He’ll never get to know you love him.

It feels as though you are tumbling wildly down into an abyss, waiting for the inevitable crash at the bottom that would either end this eternal suffering or that sudden jerk, the lurch as you wake up from this cruel nightmare.

Neither comes. You are fated to live in excruciating limbo, your lungs burning, as if you can’t take a breath until Bucky’s destiny has been sealed.

Oxygen would be the gift you’d allow yourself once your love was awake and talking again; cracking stupid jokes with his signature cocky smirk and flirting with you like you were on your first date again.

And if he were to pass into the next life, taking your heart with him, then you would simply refuse to take another breath until you were reunited with him once again.

Part 10 coming soon

Be added to the series taglist here

He’s Hazardous To My Health [Paramedic!Bucky Barnes] Taglist: @lavenderpenumbra @crazyunsexycool @eralen @buckbuckyoongs @blackwidownat2814 @crayongirl-linz @ozwriterchick @desert-fern @misshale21 @chalesleclerc164 @rookthorne @janineb86 @emmabarnes @scarletbich @princezzjasmine @thebuckybarnesvault @doasyoudesireandlive @solitarioslilium @iamfandomwasted @tanyaspartak @pop-rocks-818 @Dumdidditydumdoo @missvelvetsstuff @kayden666 @amiimar @katheryn1 @safew0rd @kentokaze @thewackywriter @lady-loki-barnes-djarin @badasswlthafatass @loveoldmenlikelana @00cmh @pointless-girl @honeyglee @nerdxacid @ashhsage @prettylittlepluviophile @otomefromtheheart @sjsmith56 @mandijo17 @lokidokieokie @oceansandblackhearts @rebeccapineapple @soorwellystan @excusememrbarnes @lofaewrites @snapcapquartet @wishingwell-2 @aya-fay @lowkeysebby @redbarn1995 @lex-is-up-all-night-to-get-bucky

[calebghostin]

glitz 'n glamour . gojo satoru

Life as an actress wasn’t easy, that was easy to say. Although, You wouldn’t trade it for the world. Especially when your co-worker Satoru was pretty easy on the eyes. 

Just a rom-com, a cheesy-holiday Netflix original, doomed to failure, but a secure paycheck. 

Your agent directed you into a practice building for a chemistry read. Heels tapping, you entered the meeting-room, a large oval table taking up most of the space and bright, charming white hair taking up your eyes. 

“Ah! Thank you for joining us. This is Satoru Gojo, who will be playing Luka.”

The director states and you have to physically take your eyes off Satoru to smile back at the man. 

“Ah, Yes. thank you for having me. Nice to meet you both.”

You smile politely while glancing back to Satoru who smirks at you and pulls up his shades to reveal the brightest blue orbs you’ve ever seen. 

No wonder he books these gigs so easily, you think. 

Sitting down across from Satoru you glance at the early script and cringe. Some of these lines were, well, romantic. Definitely. 

Coughing, you start. 

・・・・・

You exhaled deeply, heels clacking over a few yards away from the very previously tense meeting room.

All was well your cola jolted and paused on its descent down the vending machine into your yearning hands. Half of it just awkwardly inching over the threshold. You sighed and placed your head on the cool glass, until you noticed bright crystalline eyes in the glass' reflection, staring at you curiously.

“Ah! Mr. Gojo, I didn’t see you there…”

You started, turning around to face him. Now that he was standing, you could take his height in as he towered over you, eyes peering down curiously. 

“All good, I didn’t say anythin’ anyways. And call me Satoru! We’ll be working together now, yeah?”

He replies joyfully. 

“Oh, okay. Um, yeah, best of luck to us, I suppose?” 

“Guess so. You didn’t like the script either?”

He asks and you can’t help but sigh. 

“I guess. The audition read was so different,”

You step to the side and notice his eyes glance to the titled red can in the machine. “It’s like they totally changed it, or something!” 

“Mhm, I thought so too. Is that your… trapped cola?” 

“Yes. Unfortunately.” 

“Well, I suppose it would be very ‘Luka’ of me to help… right?”

He smiles and steps forward, one hand above the machine, the other perched near the heat of your waist around the side of the machine. 

Your breath hitches, realising how close and just how beautiful he was. The sharp and loud shakes of the machine snaps you out of your daze. 

The soft clunk of the cola being the only sound to fill the space, until Satoru says. 

“Well, I suppose this is the part you give me the cola for helping?” He says. 

Is he joking? All he did was move it with graceful elegance and he just expects to take your cola? 

“Um, I paid for it!” You straighten up, letting him know you are serious. 

“Well, being a big shot-actress, can’t you lend a poor fan a cola?”

He says while taking the cola and turning to leave. Humming to himself.

Waving the cola in the air, he cries out in a sing-song: “Love the stuff you do, can’t wait to film with you!” 

How on earth are you going to survive filming with him? 

・・・・・

“...Lights, camera… action! We have exclusive news that stars Gojo Satoru and everyone's favourite hot-shot actress will be starring in Netflix’s new rom-com “Snowed In”, hitting the service this Christmas! Take a look at these behind-the-scenes photos!”

The TV hums out through the hotel room you lodge in peacefully, worn-out from the long shoot that went relatively well. The photos splayed on the screen of the news show Satoru giving you a cup of coffee after a scene, and a steamy-kiss on the set. You roll your eyes, of course this is what they care about. Your thought is interrupted by your phone’s silent buzz. 

Satoru: Wow, we look great in those photos.

You reply with 'You’re watching too?' and receive a few smiley faces and thumbs up in affirmation.

Great minds think alike, but you can’t help but wonder if he truly enjoyed the kiss, regardless of the on-screen nature. Whether it was the crisp white-wine or city getting to you, your fingers riskily type out: Was it a good kiss? 

'Oh my God. Why did I DO that?' Your thoughts spiral, worst-case scenario he might leave the movie because of your stupid drunk- 

Satoru: Yeah, for sure. Cus I was kissin’ :D of course it’ll be good. 

Oh.

You roll your eyes. What did you expect? That he, Satoru Gojo, would be serious or even seriously-flirtatious for even a second? Throwing your phone across the room, you walked to bed. 

Hotel beds rock. A sharp knock straightens you awake out of your drunken sleepiness. Another knock, then another, and another. 

“C-coming!” You cry out, quickly tying your hair and throwing on a robe, you open the door to be met with - Satoru?

He pants, clearly out of breath… shirt crumpled, thrown on.. rushing clearly.

“You didn’t read my other text.”

He says, quietly looking at you. 

“What? No, it was a stupid question and I was going to bed and I-” 

“Read it. Please.” He nods in the direction of your room. 

“O-okay…” You enter back inside the hotel room. Very confused until you open the screen and  a notification reads: 

Satoru: Joking, you’re the best co-worker I’ve had the pleasure of kissing. Or woman, or anyone for that matter. They put me in the same hotel? Mind if I come over?

Then 3 minutes later: 

Satoru: That was inappropriate. Sorry. 

Again, 

Satoru: Please don’t ignore me, we’ve still got lots to do together - I don’t want you to be mad. 

Oh.

He thought you were brushing him off, you, brushing off Gojo Satoru! Of all people! You remembered how good the kiss for the films final scene was and took one last courage-swish of your complimentary champagne before quickly heading over to the doorway. 

Seeing you stride forward quickly, Satoru braced for the worst. 

“Listen y-” 

His stammered apology was quickly cut off by you smashing your lips against him, hot breaths fanning against each other as you moved against him. 

“Don’t be sorry you idiot, come inside.”

You whispered, pulling him into the room, unaware of the soft camera “click!” from down the hotel hallway. 

[seilnakyle]

do you have any dickbabs reading recommendations (especially if they're babs focused)? I read batgirl year one and some nightwing too, but I would love to delve deeper into their relationship

thank you sm in advance 🙏

They just don’t do slow burn in comics like Dickbabs anymore ♥️

If you’re coming right off batgirl year one (masterpiece. Redefined my life. Forever altered my brain) I definitely recommend you read Nightwing Year one as well, (starts at issue #101 of Nightwing (1996)

In this list I have included everything I can, but If I missed anything significant please feel free to let me know!

Pre-Crisis:

Detective Comics (1937): #359

The Batman Family (1975): #1, 2, 3, 5, 7, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 20

POST CRISIS:

Robin Year One (2000): #4

Batgirl Year One (2003)

Nightwing Year One - Nightwing (1996): #101-106

Nightwing (1995): #2

Nightwing (1996): #0.5, 7, 14, 16-18, 19, 20, 24, 25, 37, 38-87, 88, 89, 100, 104, 109, 117, 153 (this isn’t EVERY issue Babs is in but all the important ones)

Batman Chronicles (1996): #9

Some of the best and most beautiful dickbabs moments come from birds of prey, and they give a great look into Babs’ side of things too! I recommend reading Bop and Nightwing alongside each other (If you can!) And I alos recommend you read some Batman arcs like Cataclysm, No Man’s Land and Bruce Wayne, Murderer? They show Dick and Babs working together and with the batfam. Fun Fact and slight spoiler for the ending of No Man’s Land, The ending scene where Dick and Helena randomly kiss was supposed to be between Dick and Babs, but someone messed up, and Rucka kinda just thought Dick was a horndog so no one fixed it 💔 there is still some good Dickbabs moments within that arc tho

Birds Of Prey (1999): #8, 19, 20, 23-61, 71, 76, 86

Robin (1993): #71

Gotham Knights: #17, 18, 26, 30, 32, 34, 35, 36, 42, 43

Harley Quinn (2000): #10-12

DC One Million (1998): #1 , 3

DC Universe Holiday Bash (1997): #2

Batman: Black Mirror (they aren’t together in this but it’s still important reading for their relationship imo and a fascinating/thrilling Dick!bats story with lots of Oracle besides)

Nightwing Annual 2 (for the conclusion of the proposal from Nightwing #117)

Li’l Gotham (2013): #1, 7, 10, 17

Convergence Nightwing/Oracle #1-2 (for the wedding. This is how pre-boot ended as far as I’m concerned)

New 52 Reboot:

Nightwing (2011): #4, Annual 1

Batgirl (2011): #3, 18, 21, 30, Annual 3, 45

Grayson (2014): #2, #12

REBIRTH:

Nightwing (2016) #1, 2, 3, 15, 44, 45, 46, 47, Annual 1

Batgirl (2016): #7, 10, 14, 15, 16, 17, 25

Dark Nights: Death Metal - the Last Stories of the DC Universe: #1

Batman (2016): #55

Batgirl (2016): #43, 50

Nightwing (2016): #50, 72, 73, 74, 75, 77, 78, 79, 80, 81, 82, 83, 84, 85, 86, 87, 88, 89, 90, 91, 92, 93, 94, 95, 96, 97, 98, 100, 102, 103, 104, 105, 106, 107, 108, 111, 112, 113, 114, 115, 116, 117, 118, 119, 120, 121, 122, 123 (ongoing)

Batman (2016): #100, 104, 118, 126, 127, 128, 137, 141, 145, 146, 148, 149,

Batgirls (2021): #7, 8, 10, 12

The Flash (2016): #787

Future State: Nightwing (2021): #1, 2

Future State: The Next Batman (2021): #4

Superman: Son of Kal-El (2021): #13

Saved by the Belle Reve (2022): #1

Tales of the Titans (2023): #1

Titans: Beast World (2023): #2, 3, 4, 6

Titans (2023): #6, 7

Batman / Santa Clause: Silent Knight (2023): #1-4

How to lose a Guy Gardener in 10 days (2024): #1

Super-Pets Special: Bitedentity Crisis (2024): #1

ELSEWORLDS / BLACK LABEL

Thrillkiller (1997): #1-3

Young Justice (2011): #22, 23, 25

Earth 2: World’s End (2014): #1, 3, 4, 6, 9, 10

Earth 2 (2012): #29

Batman: White Knight (2017): #1, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8

Batman: White Knight: Batman Day (2018): #1

Batman: Curse of the White Knight (2019): #4

Batman: Beyond The White Knight (2022): #1, 4, 6, 7, 8

The Batman & Scooby-Doo Mysteries (2021): #4

Dc vs. Vampires (2021): #1, #2, #3, 4, 8, 12

Batman: The Long Halloween - The Last Halloween (2024): #1

Batman: Dark Age (2024): #4, 5, 6

The Boy Wonder (2024): #1

[sareenthedreamer]

Make me Forget...

Words: 2.6k

Warnings: Smut, Erotica, Sex, riding, cream pie, massage, mating press, virginity loss

“Make me forget….”

“...for just one night. Please.”

Those were the words out of Toshinori’s mouth as he stood at your door. It was midnight and the rain was coming down in droves, his hair dripping. In his desperate state of mind, he didn’t even bother to bring an umbrella.

It was difficult to see him like this: his face twisted with internal agony from a life of loneliness, of duty and always putting others above his own desires. His beautiful blue eyes were devoid of the passion and determination that typically sparked there, replaced with a sullen hollowness that wrenched the heart to see.

His mind was swirling with a maelstrom of emotions. Watching the world he worked so hard to build crumble before him. The crushing loneliness of a solitary life in a world he had given everything for and yet it still wasn’t enough. The gloomy darkness of this night was consuming him.

You weren’t surprised that he came to you, but you were touched. Always around each other, your feelings for him weren’t a secret – you just didn’t act on them. A life loving him from afar was better than a life without him.

As you usher him in out of the rain, his eyes flick to yours. The look in them is one of raw vulnerability, a shell of the man he once was. Slipping off his soaked-through jacket, you hand him a towel as he stands in your entry way, scattering fat droplets of rainwater over the hardwood flooring and into the satin robe wrapped tightly around you. A brief shiver runs through him, but it wasn’t from the cold. There is an electric tension from something deep and unspoken.

His movements were slow, crushed by the remnants of a life he once knew. Running the towel through his hair absentmindedly, your soft voice cut through the heavy tension in the air. He may be an aged man, but he was still new to intimacy.

“Are you sure? You want to forget everything for just one night… with me?”

He freezes, the towel against his neck as he stands there; a conflicted expression across his face. His mouth opens, then closes as he struggles to find the right words before he finally speaks in a hoarse whisper.

“Please.”

The look of heartache in his eye brings a physical pain to your chest. You love this man. Despite having dreamed of a moment like this, believing it would never happen, you wished it had been under better circumstances.

Grasping his large hand in yours, you guide him to your room. Standing at the end of your bed you help him remove his rain-soaked clothing, setting them aside to be placed in the dryer. There were no need for words, the silence between you was comfortable. He stops you when you reach for his belt, his large hands covering your own while his eyes search yours to reveal the complicated swirl of fear and longing behind them.

Wriggling free one hand from his, you cup his cheek with gentle affection.

“You have to get out of the wet clothes.”

He lets out a brief chuff of laughter before unbuckling his belt himself, prompting you to raise a brow, smirking at his response. It is only a few moments before he stands before you, naked and nervous; his vulnerability is palpable.

It amuses you when he straightens his posture, like he is trying to impress you. The scars across his body serve as quiet reminders of an extraordinary life tinged with sadness. With a slow hand, you pull the tie around your waist, letting it fall to the ground to reveal your bare form. His eyes widen slightly and for the briefest moment you see his carefully constructed facade waver to reveal a man who has been starved of intimacy his entire life.

You gesture towards the bed, instructing him to lay on his stomach. In his broken state of mind, he doesn’t question it and crawls onto the bed, his head cradled by a soft pillow. Climbing onto the bed with slow movements to straddle his bottom, he stiffens from the unexpected contact from your most intimate parts against him. As your hands move over his neck and shoulders in a firm but gentle manner, he begins to relax.

An involuntary groan escapes him when you begin to dutifully work to remove as much tension as possible from his back. Your body shifts, pressing against him with soft purpose, hands moving with purpose lower across his body. With a brief pause over his bottom, your fingers gently glide over him before kneading the area.

You can’t stop the smile spreading across your lips from the surprised grunts coming from him, finding yourself aroused by his sounds. He buries his face into the pillow in an attempt to hide the flush creeping across his face, twisted in both embarrassment and pleasure.

The groans being prompted by your hands continue as you travel down to his toes and back up again, finally ending where you began. Being extraordinarily gentle, you lean down to plant kisses over his neck and shoulders; your breasts pressed deliciously against his back. His body freezes at the unexpectedness of the feeling, uncertain how to respond.

Your hands slide down his sides, gently pushing him to his back as you give him room to move. Despite his apprehension, he rolls over without hesitation, blinking at you as you straddle him again. It would be impossible to miss the storm of emotions flooding him at this moment, his breaths causing his chest to rapidly rise and fall. His beautiful blue irises were eclipsed by his dilated pupils staring back at you.

You hold yourself over him, nipples barely touching his chest as you lean in to kiss him softly. Parting his lips, his tongue meets yours in a clumsy but earnest kiss that could quite possibly be his first. His hands come to rest around your waist with an air of possessiveness he has never before shown. Breaking the kiss, you tug on his lower lip before progressing down his jawline to his earlobe, nibbling along the way. As you leave little love bites down his neck you hear him groan quietly while arching his neck to give you better access, leaving him with a memory for tomorrow. Your hands massage down his sides while you pepper his chest and abdomen with feather-light kisses. Lowering yourself further down the bed, your eyes flick up to meet his as you feel movement from him – he has propped himself up on his elbows to watch you. There is both anticipation and nervousness in his gaze while you continue your descent.

A quiet whimper falls from his lips when you reach his pubic bone, a feeling of exposed vulnerability and excitement welling up inside of him. Meeting his eyes once again you smirk with an air of seduction, your breath ghosting over his erection.

“Please,” he breathes, his hips twitching slightly at the sensation.

A tongue flickers from between your lips to tentatively lick the pre -cum from the head of his cock, causing his hips to jerk involuntarily. The sound of his gasp is nothing short of glorious, his hands desperately grasping the sheets beneath him. You blow gently where you just licked, causing his cock to sway and bob deliciously before you completely envelope his cock in your warm, wet mouth. His back arches off the bed, hands finding their way to your hair.

Your mouth moves slowly at first and then more quickly, increasing the intensity of your suction while one of your hands carefully massages his sack.

He groans, a deep and guttural sound, his hips moving with shallow thrusts. You can see his chest move with his hard, quick breaths while his eyes continue to watch your every move. You have one goal and that’s to make him forget tonight; to overwhelm his senses with a pleasure he has never felt.

With a loud “pop,” your lips come off of his cock. Slowly you crawl up the bed, straddling his hips to allow your wet pussy to rub up and down his hard shaft. There is a look of awe on his face, hands holding you firmly over him as the sight of you hovering above him, flushed and wanting threatens to undo him completely.

“Toshi,” you breathe, desire written all over your face. You would do anything for this man. Lifting yourself to position him at your entrance, you gently lower yourself onto his innocent cock to envelope him tightly with your warm wetness.

“Ahh.. Fuck..” he whispers, completely mesmerized by the sight of your fluid motion, head thrown back in a pant and rotating your hips against him. You find yourself pleasantly surprised when he leans up to place subtle kisses along your neck. With his thumbs he circles your nipples, cupping your breasts.

“You feel.. so.. good,” he groans against you as his movements become more urgent. His eyes follow one of your hands that snakes between your own folds as you pleasure yourself. The sight prompts him to reach down, sliding his fingers between yours to join in the needy strokes against your clit.

“Let me help.” His voice is heavy with desire. Your own breathing becomes a ragged frenzy, moaning between panting gasps as he watches the raw intensity in your eyes and the way you tremble, tightening around his dick.

“That’s it,” he encourages softly, his fingers working beside your own to drive you closer to the edge. That was all it took for your pussy to clench around his virgin cock, loudly crying out for him. Your impaled cunt jerks involuntarily around his shaft.

Watching you come apart is the most beautiful thing he has ever seen. The sound of his name spoken with so much desire is enough to bring about his own trembling release; his arms wrapped around you to pull you flush against him while burying his face in your neck as you throb around him, whimpering desperately through your climax

You grin at him, seeing him smirk in response as his breathing slowly returns to normal. You lean in to kiss him intimately, his hands now running through your hair. With his still hard cock buried inside of you, he breaks the kiss to whisper against you. You couldn’t help but be a bit impressed by his persisting erection.

“You know, I’ve never felt like this before. You make me want to stay inside of you forever.”

“My feelings for you are no secret. You can have me any time you want me.”

“I want to make love to you every day,” he admits before searching your eyes as he adds, “I want you to be mine.”

A true smile graced your lips as he uttered the words you had longed to hear for so long.

“My heart was already yours to begin with.”

You lifted yourself off of his still hard cock knowing the emptiness you felt within you would be fleeting. Wanting to see his desire and passion take control, you laid down and beckoned him between your legs, watching his lust-filled eyes taking in your spread form with an unyielding desire. His cock still slick from being within you, he positioned himself at your entrance.

“Ah, Ah, Ah. Stop and just feel the moment,” you instruct, having him lean forward to press his body intimately against you. Taking both hands and lacing the fingers with your own, you guide him to pin you with his hands on either side of your head. Leaning forward with a look of lust in your eyes, you playfully lick his lips with the tip of your tongue.

“You are driving me crazy,” he murmurs with desire and adoration.

“It’s called anticipation,” you tell him coyly. “Kiss me.”

Not one to disappoint, he leans down to give you a slow lingering kiss. You were a little impressed to feel his tongue part your lips, exploring your mouth with gentle flicks and swirls of his own. His lips slowly withdraw to nuzzle your neck, murmuring against your skin, “You’re making me lose my gentlemanly manners.”

“Good,” you chuckle, an impish grin spread across your face like the Cheshire cat. For the first time in his life, he is allowing himself to be driven by pure desire and you can’t deny how arousing it is.

You are taken over by lust as he places you into a mating press, his large hands pushing your thighs close to your head. His cock head bobs down between your pussy lips, causing you to hold your breath in anticipated euphoria.

“Please,” you beg, the sensual atmosphere of the moment making you lose any semblance of control. You gently push your hips into him, prompting him to growl when he sees his own milky fluid coating your inner thighs. Your eyes flutter a moment as he begins to drive your puffy lips apart again, breaths coming more shallow this time. You had waited years for this opportunity knowing it may never actually happen.

“Toshi,” the words are murmured breathlessly. “I-,” your sentence is replaced by your lips opening into an “O” shape as he begins to penetrate you in earnest. His name sounds so desperate and sweet from your lips. He can’t stop watching the sight of his head slipping out with a plop, then pushing forward again, his own seed mixed with your wetness being shoved back into you.

You lose yourself in the sensations, exposing your neck while your hands grasp tightly at the sheets. He leans down to suck and swirl one of your firm nipples in his mouth, continuing to pump himself deeper inside as your body is dominated by his.

He wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you closer when you tense and tilt back in pleasure beneath him. His breaths come in heavy huffs, watching you intently.

“Ohh!” you cry, his hips moving sensually against you in a steady rhythm. The enjoyment from seeing you lose control like this is evident on his face, coming in to swallow your moans with tender kisses while you tremble. His angle shifts to hit a deeper area, causing your eyes to widen.

“Is that good?” His voice is husky and strained with effort.

“Yes,” you breathe, brimming with soft sensual desire.

He watches your breasts bounce with each snap of his hip against your own.

“Spread your legs wider, baby,” he growls softly, watching as you follow his command. The action causes you to wrap around him tighter, another orgasm rising inside of you while his hips stutter at your body’s response.

“Kiss me while we cum together,” you tell him erotically.

His lips devour yours, tongues caressing each other as need and passion collide with each thrust. Your muscles convulse tightly around him, an intense orgasm crushing into you while your hips grind and jerk erratically. The movements cause his own release, filling you as he continues to keep his pace to ride out your orgasm with you in one of the most intense climaxes you have ever had.

Wrapping his arms around you, he pulls you close to his chest, your body trembling in his arms with spent satisfaction. He plants a kiss to your neck, smiling against your skin.

“Are you okay?” he murmurs, his voice low and breathless from exertion.

“I have never been better.”

“Me either,” he admits with a chuckle. There is a contented satisfaction in his voice that he has never felt before.

With love in your eyes, you look at him with hope that this will change both of your lives.

[weaponizedmoth]

Yay requests :DDDD

For my request… Draw Luis from re4!

save me luis sera re4 remake, luis sera re4 remake, luisa sera re4 remake save me...

[vulpinesaint]

back on the topic of eddie brock never being the first choice. crazy to me to think about the origin of the venom symbol which is that the symbiote Was With Spiderman First. the venom symbol is a slightly creepier version of the spiderman symbol with an extra bend in the legs cause it's the symbiote's best approximation of what it thought spiderman wanted. and when spiderman rejects the symbiote and venom shows up it's still the same suit just on a different person. the symbiote learned emotions from peter parker and it is angry and hurt at not being wanted but it stays in the form it thought he wanted... peter parker disarms eddie brock once by telling the symbiote that he wants it back and attacking once the symbiote starts to leave... eddie has such a hard time throughout the comics with the fact that the symbiote Will Leave Him if prompted by the right person. and be so honest. what would you do if you were eddie brock and no matter where you went or what you did there was a symbol that you were somebody else's second choice emblazoned across your chest