#the one i finished was one of us is lying

[keithyp00]

•·.·´`·.·•• You're Lying (and other things Sam won't stop saying) ••·.·´`·.·•

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x f!reader

Warnings/Tags: language, mild suggestiveness, comedy, romance, light-angst, found family, slow burn payoff, excessive teasing, established relationship, Sam being annoying

Trope: Everyone thinks you're not really dating. You are. No one believes you.

Word Count: 2.0K

Author Note: Guys this is just like my last one, this is to help me mentally prep for an AP exam tomorrow morning so if this is bad I am so sorry. But I hope you enjoy this nonetheless <3

Please do not copy or translate any of my works. Thank you!

You and Bucky were dating.

Like- really dating.

In the 'he's seen you at your absolute worst and still kisses your cheek like he doesn't look at you any differently' kind of way. The 'you keep an extra toothbrush at his place and he makes your coffee how you like it without asking' kind of way. The 'he pulls you into his lap during team movie nights and smiles against your shoulder, murmuring words into your ear like it's not the most dangerous thing he could do' kind of way.

And no one believed you.

Especially not Sam.

"Oh, come one," he said, flatly, as he walked in on you and Bucky curled up on the couch. "This again?"

You blinked. "We're watching Pretty Woman, Sam."

"You're spooning."

"We're affectionate."

"You're not even kissing! He's probably just cold. You know he runs cold. Like a cyborg space lizard or something."

Bucky growled. "Cyborg space-?!"

"Right," Sam interrupted. "Sure. Keep telling people you're dating. I'll be over here living in reality."

You buried your face into Bucky's neck. "I hate him," you mumbled.

"You love him," Bucky corrected with a sigh. "You just want him to validate our relationship."

"I want him to believe in our relationship. There's a difference."

Sam, in the kitchen, called out: "I don't!"

Bucky flipped him off without looking.

~~~~~

The problem wasn't that you and Bucky didn't act like a couple.

The problem was that you didn't act like a normal couple.

You didn't post mushy selfies. You didn't wear matching shirts. You didn't coo pet names across conference tables. You just... existed. Comfortable. Quietly in sync. The kind of romance that felt more like a heartbeat than a firework.

Too subtle for people like Sam Wilson, apparently.

"You didn't even kiss when you got back from that mission," Sam pointed out, a few weeks later. "She was gone for five days, man."

Bucky, polishing a knife, didn't look up. "I kissed her afterward. In private."

"See, that's the problem! You hide it. Makes it look fake."

"I'm sorry," you snapped. "I didn't realize our love life was for public broadcast. Want us to livestream the next one?"

Sam looked delighted. "That's a strong reaction. I hit a nerve. This is faker than Tony's allergy to gluten."

Tony called from down the hall: "It's real, you bastard!"

~~~~~

At first, it was funny.

Then it got exhausting.

You weren't insecure about your relationship- Bucky made sure of that, every day, in a dozen quiet ways. He cooked for you. Kissed your temple. Held your hand under tables. Brushed his thumb along your jaw like it was the most precious part of you.

But still. No one believed it.

Not Nat, who called it "convenient physical proximity."

No Clint, who claimed he'd never seen you kiss with tongue (as id that were a valid benchmark).

Not even Steve, who offered a gentle "Are you sure he's not just emotionally dependent on you?"

It all came to a head one night at a bar.

You'd just finished a mission and everyone was letting off steam. Sam leaned against the bar counter beside you, a shit-eating grin on his face.

"So," he started. "You and Barnes still 'dating'?"

You narrowed your eyes. "Yes."

"Hmm. Okay." He sipped his beer. "So if I leaned in and kissed you right now, he wouldn't deck me?"

You stared at him.

"Try it," Bucky said darkly from behind, voice like cracked gravel.

Sam smiled. "Still not proof."

Bucky grabbed your hand. "You want proof?"

"Bucky-" you warned.

"No, no. He wants a show. Let's give him one."

He yanked you flush against him, hand cupping your jaw, and kissed you.

You melted into it, clutched his shirt, kissed him back with something that sounded like a whimper because Jesus.

Not a polite kiss.

Not a we're-dating-I-swear kiss.

A I-know-every-inch-of-your-mouth-and-I-love-you kiss.

Hot. Possessive. Unapologetic.

When he pulled away, Sam blinked. "...Okay. Damn."

"Believe us now?" Bucky raised a brow.

Sam blinked again. "Not really."

You grabbed a pretzel stick and stabbed it into the foam of Sam's beer. "I hope you step on RedWing."

~~~~~

Even after that, the teasing didn't stop.

Because of course it didn't.

"You probably practiced that," Sam said a few days later.

"What?"

"That kiss. You planned it. Just to throw me off."

Bucky rubbed his temples. "You are the most annoying man I've ever met."

"You're just mad I cracked the code."

"There is no code!"

You yanked open the fridge, pulled out a tub of frosting, and started eating it with a spoon. "I actually cannot live like this."

Sam pointed at the spoon. "See? No real girlfriend would let her boyfriend see that."

"Bucky bought me this frosting."

Bucky looked like he was about to get up and beat the shit out of Sam if he didn't start walking away.

~~~~~

Eventually, you gave up.

Let them believe what they wanted.

You and Bucky still kissed behind closed doors, curled together on the couch, whispered sleepy confessions after long days.

Until-

One night, you got sick.

Really sick. The kind of body-aching, fever-drenched flu that turned you into a grumpy, sniffling, corpse with a bag full of used tissues beside your bed.

And Bucky took care of everything.

He brought you soup. Rubbed your back. Helped you shower when you were too weak to stand. Brushed your hair out of your face. Slept beside you even when you told him not to.

Sam stopped by to check on you and walked in on Bucky holding your hand while you slept, forehead pressed to your wrist like he was praying.

The next morning, there was a small gift basket on your nightstand.

He backed out slowly.

Didn't say anything.

Didn't tease.

Didn't breathe.

"Okay. You win. He loves you. I won't say another word. P.S. Please don't tell anyone I'm capable of this level of sincerity. I have a rep to protect."

From Sam.

With a card.

~~~~~

You- of course- showed Bucky the card.

He smirked. "About damn time."

You kissed him with a smile.

And this time, no one questioned it.

~~~~~

The peace lasted exactly five days.

Five beautiful, uninterrupted days.

No teasing, no smug side-eyes, no Sam accusing you of being part of an elaborate CIA cover operation. Just you, Bucky, some early morning kisses over coffee, and one blessed evening where you somehow convinced him to slow dance in the kitchen to 40s music.

And then Sam broke into your new apartment. One you thought would give you full time peace compared to the Avengers compound.

(he claimed he "used the spare key." You knew he just picked the lock.)

"Morning, lovebirds," he smiled brightly, leaning against the doorframe like this wasn't the worst intrusion since Ross kissed someone else while he and Rachel were on a break.

You stared at him over Bucky's shoulder, still wrapped in his hoodie with sleep-mussed hair and a mug of tea between your palms. "It's 7:13 a.m."

"I brought bagels."

"And chaos."

Sam strolled in. "And relationship advice."

Bucky looked up from the couch, dead-eyed. "Why?"

"Because now that I know you two are the real deal, I gotta make sure you stay real."

You rubbed your temples. "We're not a gas leak, Sam."

"No, but you're both stubborn and weirdly avoidant and emotionally repressed, and frankly, I'm impressed it took me this long to be needed."

Bucky mumbled, "I'd rather be waterboarded."

Sam ignored him and slapped a notebook onto the table. "Step one: scheduled communication check-ins."

"Oh my god-"

~~~~~

You tried ignoring him.

Didn't work.

("It's like Find My iPhone, but romantic," he said. Bucky installed it in twelve seconds.)

Because Sam became relentless. He started showing up with couple's quizzes.

Brought you a deck of 'relationship conversation starters.'

Installed an app on Bucky's phone called 'LoveTracker.'

And worst of all- he documented everything.

"Bucky," he'd say mid-mission, "when was the last time you complimented her non-physically?"

You stared at him. "Non-physically?"

"Yeah. Like her intelligence. Or her moral compass. Or how she hasn't murdered me yet."

Bucky rolled his eyes. "I call her my girl every morning."

"That's possessive endearment, not a compliment."

"I tell her she's smarter than Tony."

~~~~~

Somewhere around Week 3 of Sam's Unsolicited Couples Therapy, something unexpected happened.

But... he also started being kind of helpful.

He stopped being annoying.

(Okay, no. He was definitely still annoying.)

Like the night you and Bucky got into your first real fight.

It wasn't explosive. Just sharp. Quiet. Full of jagged silences.

You'd been on back-to-back missions, and Bucky had started pulling away. Fewer cuddles. More brooding. Less talking. You tried to be patient- God, you tried- but when he snapped at you for asking what was wrong, it all unraveled.

"I'm trying to help," you said, voice trembling.

"I didn't ask for it," he muttered.

The room froze.

You didn't cry.

You never cried in front of him.

But that night, you shut your bedroom door behind you and curled up alone.

But Sam came over first.

Bucky didn't come in.

Not until morning.

~~~~~

He found you on the balcony, hoodie pulled over your knees, cold tea forgotten beside you.

Then, quietly: "You know, when Sarah gets mad at me, I do this thing where I pretend I'm not scared I'll lose her. But I am. I always am."

He didn't say anything at first.

Just sat down next to you, offered a granola bar.

You looked over. "You think Bucky's scared?"

Sam tilted his head. "That man loved you like it's gonna be taken away from him. Like he's holding something he thinks he shouldn't have. So yeah. He's scared."

~~~~~

You didn't cry.

But you breathed.

And it helped.

Bucky apologized that afternoon.

He stood in the doorway, fists clenched, breathing hard like it took everything in him to walk in.

"I'm sorry," he said. "For being a coward. For making you feel like you weren't wanted when you're the only thing I ever want."

You looked at him.

He stepped closer. "I never learned how to let myself be... this happy. It scared the hell out of me. But not as much as losing you."

You opened your arms, and he came apart in them.

That night, Bucky fell asleep with his hand on your heart.

And you whispered, "You're safe with me."

~~~~~

The next morning, Sam dropped off muffins.

"I told you you'd fight eventually," he said smugly.

You grabbed the muffins and shut the door in his face with a smile.

~~~~~

Over time, you adapted.

You didn't expect Sam to be a normal friend, he didn't know how to do that. But you did start to appreciate him as a part of your life. Your weird, overinvolved, chaotic platonic marriage therapist.

One night, you all sat around a campfire during a retreat mission. Quiet stars. Crickets. Steve snoring faintly in the background.

He became your sounding board.

Your crisis texter.

Your sarcastic but loyal brother figure who threatened anyone who looked at you funny and called Bucky 'lover boy' just to watch him twitch.

Sam looked over at you both.

"You know," he said, voice softer than usual, "you're actually really good together."

Bucky looked at him. "Took you long enough."

"Yeah, yeah. Shut up. But I mean it. You make him more human," he said to you. Then, to Bucky: "And you make her feel protected without caging her."

Sam threw a marshmallow at you both. "Don't get soft on me. I'll revoke my own compliment."

You blinked.

Bucky squeezed your hand.

~~~~~

Months later...

You stood at the edge of a field after a joint mission, hair tousled, laughing with Bucky as he pressed a kiss to your forehead.

You smiled to yourself.

Sam walked past, muttering into comms.

"She's in love, he's in denial, and I'm still unpaid for all their therapy."

Which honestly... was kind of perfect.

You were real.

You were loved.

And you had the most chaotic friend group in the world.

[buckybarnesslutshop]

Well, You’re Early

Alpha!Ceo!Bucky x Omega!Reader

CWs: SMUT, NSFW, MDNI 18+ Omegaverse, duh, breeding, nesting, Alpine mention, some teasing, the whole idea of scents, p in v, knotting, bit of cockwarming, overall kinda tame and sweet esp at the end

Nicknames used by Bucky: Omega, babygirl, baby, honey

Nicknames used by Reader: Buck, Alpha

A/N: Exam season is almost over so I cooked up a bit of self indulgence. That’s it that’s the fic. Probably not my best work but like I said this is for me so.

Summary: You wake up one morning feeling….. off. You think you’re coming down with a cold, maybe the flu, and decide to nest and rest while you wait for your Alpha to come home. But resting doesn’t go as planned, as it feels like the room suddenly gets hotter….

Bucky had already gone to work that morning by the time you woke up, something that wasn’t uncommon during the week. When you work up, you felt… off. You couldn’t put your finger on it, but you felt almost as if you were coming down with something. You wondered if you were just having some pre-heat symptoms, but it felt a bit more than that.

By the time you had made breakfast, taken a shower, and got dressed, you felt a bit more…. off. Something was definitely going on. You sighed, hoping it would be over by the time your heat started in about 5 days. Being sick on your heat was by far the worst experience a mated omega can experience short of losing their mate.

And so you started on some of the cleaning for the day, finishing the dishes from last night, vacuuming the floors, washing the sheets. You scooped Alpine’s litter and fed her breakfast. She looked at you curiously before eating it.

Fatigue started to hit you rapidly, and you decided to rebuild the nest so you would at least be cozy and content when sick. The fresh sheets were placed on the bed before you opened your closet to grab the blankets you set aside specifically for nesting. They always smelled like you and Bucky, and that was the point. You began to arrange them, fiddling the order of them here and there. You still felt rather… off, and you weren’t thinking much anymore.

You haphazardly dug through the laundry for a few of Bucky’s sweatshirts, and the ever-coveted red henley. You grabbed his blue one too. You grabbed your own sweatshirts, using them to further imbed the nest with your scents. By the time you were content, you curled up in the middle of the nest and decided to nap. Alpine padded in, jumping on the bed, and sniffing you. She gives you another look before leaving. That felt odd, you weren’t sure why she wasn’t lying with you as she normally would have, but you didn’t care. You just wanted to rest.

Less than an hour later, you woke up soaked in sweat, skin ablaze. “Must be a fever…” you muttered. You sat up abruptly, but immediately noticed the dehydration and vague feeling of dizziness. You crawled out of the next to grab water, but you barely made it out of the room before you stopped cold. There was a new sensation, of something warm, wet, and sticky running down your thigh. You panicked, immediately shoving a hand down your shorts and panties and running a finger along your slit. To your… horror? surprise?…. you felt a steady pool of slick forming. You stepped back, looking at the calendar by the bedroom door. 5 days. You weren’t due for 5 more days. What. The. Hell.

Bucky was in his office when he felt…. off. He sniffed around, thinking maybe someone new and imposing might’ve been around. There was no notable difference in the scents around the office. He continued clacking on his keyboard as his attention struggled to stay. He thought of his lovely wife back home, and decided to text her and check up on her.

He continued working, waiting for a reply, but it had been over half an hour. He assumed you were napping, until he felt heat begin to radiate from his mating mark under his button down. His brows furrowed. What was going on? It felt similar to your heat, but it wasn’t due for almost another week, and you were very regular with it. He sighed, checking his phone again. Still no reply. He got up, grabbing another cup of coffee. As he walks into his office again, though, he stops cold. He feels that sudden heat on his mark grow hotter as his skin begins to flush slightly. It’s barely noticeable, but he knows what it means. He needs to get home, now. He hoped he was wrong, because several clients were going to be pushing some events back if that were the case. His poor secretary.

You were lying in the nest, dildo in hand, trying to feel some sort of relief. Your phone was deposited somewhere on the floor with your clothes, never noticing Bucky’s text. You thrust it in and out rapidly. The air was thick, you could barely breathe, and your toy was barely doing anything. You sat up, deciding to change positions, but that didn’t help either. You decided to change again, back to your back, rubbing your clit, but nothing. You sighed, grabbing some more water. The heat rippled off of you, and the water did barely anything. You decided one last position was worth a try. You got on your knees, bending over to something akin to doggy, before reaching your arm under and thrusting the dildo in. It was your favorite way for Bucky to take you, save for a mating press, so it just had to work. And to a small degree, it was, as you hyper focused on reaching some sort of finish.

He unlocked the door, pushing it open. He got one foot in the door as the thick smell of you smacked him in the face: vanilla, peonies, and a thick layer of cherry, the biggest sign of your heat. He groaned softly to himself as he felt his cock harden. He quickly made his way inside and took his shoes and suit jacked off. He called out softly to you, but he never got a reply. His brows furrowed. He couldn’t hear anything until he made his way toward the bedroom where he heard your panting and muffled whines.

You suddenly felt the dildo pulled out of your hand, rapidly sitting up and turning, a growl making its way out of your throat before you realized who it was. You hadn’t even registered his scent, his voice calling for you when he walked in. Your eyes went wide as you whined.

“Oh babygirl…” he sighed, placing the soaked dildo on the bedside table. He grabbed the water bottle, handing it to you. You didn’t argue, sipping from it.

“Well….” he muttered, “You’re early.”

You sniffled, heat throbbing and skin burning. You looked up at him. He leaned down and kissed your forehead. You whined, grabbing at his shirt. He laughed, saying “it’s ok baby, I’ll give you what you need. But just one question for you, omega,” he said. He began to unbutton his pants, taking them off for dramatic pause. “Tell me. Is your little dildo better, or is my cock better?”You flushed, remembering how you were caught.

“You’re better, Alpha, so much better,” you said breathlessly. His shirt was now off too, joining the pile of clothes. He stepped closer to the bed, grabbing your hand, and placing it on the bulge in his boxers. You let out a breathy exhale as you palmed him lightly. You were entranced already, eyes a bit glassy, as Bucky watched you in awe. His perfect little omega.

He crawled into the nest before manhandling you to turning back around on your knees. “This what you want, ‘mega? Want me pound into you from behind? Breed you in doggy, all messy and depraved?” He teased, watching with clear view from behind as you clenched around nothing and whined. “Yes please, Alpha,” you mumbled. He gently pushed you forward onto your chest and pulled your ass up so you sat on your knees.

You wriggled your hips back into his clothed cock, whimpering and needy. The heat was only progressively getting more consuming and you needed him so bad. He chuckled, telling you to wait, as he discarded his underwear. They joined the pile of clothes imbedded in the nest.

You had heard the thwack of his heavy cock hitting his lower abdominal, and you tried to hold back a whine. “You’re so wet for me, ‘mega, so pretty. Such a pretty baby for me,” he murmured, running a thick finger up and down your slit. He could’ve sworn he saw a fresh gush come out of you. “Need prepped baby? Or are you ready?”

You turned your head to the side, and out of the pillows, before quickly nodding and saying “Ready!” You saw him smile at your eagerness.

You felt him like himself up, but instead of inserting himself, you felt him first slide the head of his cock up and down your folds. A small moan escaped each time he tapped your clit with the head of his cock as your eyes began to cloud over. You whined before grumbling out a “stop teasin’ Alpha.” He laughed quietly.

“Alright alright, my needy little omega. I’ll give you want you want now,” he said, voice gravelly and deep. He lined himself up again, slowly pushing in, and oh how the dildo never compares. Never quite gets that spot, never quite stretches you so good, and it certainly doesn’t whisper sweet little teases into your ear.

He began thrusting slowly, enjoying the soft, warm feeling of your cunt clenching around him. The sound of your breathy whimpers were like a melody, and he could smell the deeper change in your scent as it became even more cherry dominated. He began thrusting faster, gripping one metal arm on your hip and on flesh hand against your upper back, holding you down.

“Such a good omega, lettin’ me breed you all pretty ‘n’ full of my pups. Is that what you wanted, honey?” He asks, tone teasing. You whine, nodding rapidly. “Yes please! Wanna be bred, Alpha, please!” you say as your hips were pushing back to meet his. He groans at your eager movements, feeling you flutter around him.

“Alpha, Alpha, Alpha!” you chanted, eyes fluttering back. He knew you were close, if not by the chanting then by the way your cunt gripped his cock so tight. He reached around to toy softly with your clit.

“Go on, ‘mega, cum for me pretty baby,” he muttered low and thick. You let out a choked sob, the feeling of your orgasm almost built to its peak.

“Cum- cum in me please Alpha! Knot me please?” You beg, words rolling out in a ramble of desperation and need. He groaned lowly, the grip on your hip tightening. “Gonna breed you, omega, don’t you worry. Just cum on my cock like a good girl, ok?” He said, mind going almost blank at the feeling of your warm, wet cunt.

You groaned, suddenly feeling yourself about to tip over the edge. “Fuck- fuck, fuck!” You screamed, “Bucky, Alpha!” And you felt your orgasm crash in, not far off the feeling of a tsunami crashing in, and your eyes rolled back so far you were seeing white. You heard Bucky say something along the lines of “Good omega, good girl, such a good girl,” as his groans grew louder and this thrusts sloppier.

You sure as HELL felt when he moaned as he came inside you, still recovering from your own orgasm, as you felt his knot inflate. Awareness creeped back in, and so did the ability to speak, but all that came out was a soft “fuck,” amongst all of your panting.

“You ok, ‘mega?” He asked, drawing soothing circles into your back. He was still inside you, still stretching you, still filling you, but these moments are the sweetest. You nodded, murmuring a quiet “Yes, Alpha,” as a small smile spread across your face.

He slowly maneuvers you so that you’re lying on his stomach, knot still filling you, as you sighed contentedly. It wouldn’t be the last time you had his knot in you over the next few days, and for that you’re excited, but for now, you were happy just to snuggle. He dozed off with you on his chest, half asleep yourself, flesh hand still in your hair from where he was petting you softly. You never noticed Alpine make her way to the edge of the nest and curl in, but she sure was there when you woke up.

[lightsoutmatthews]

please an auston matthews with the “because i know you” prompt!

"Because I know you." - Auston Matthews

summary: a collection of things he does just shows how well Auston knows you.

pairing: Auston Matthews x female!reader

word count: 1.8k

warnings: none, just fluff

authors note:

since the request didn’t specify if you wanted angst or fluff I decided to make it sugary sweet :)

-----------------------------

It started with a cup of coffee being delivered to your office on a random Tuesday afternoon right at the second you were thinking about getting one for yourself from the coffee station down the hall.

You didn’t particularly like the coffee from there, it was cheap and the machine somehow managed to make it worse by brewing it, but it would have held you over for the rest of the day while you continued to read through emails and write responses like your life depended on it.

The cup from your favorite café in downtown Toronto was handed to you by one of your co-workers who raised her eyebrows at you. “I didn’t order that,” you told her outright, but she handed you the cup regardless. “The delivery guy said it´s for you,” she replied with a shrug of her shoulders.

There was no message on the cup, but you could guess from who it was. There was only one person who could know exactly when you could use a little pick me up at work.

He was smart by not putting a message on it. Your relationship not something really known to the public even though you had been together for over a year at this point.

You weren’t making a big deal about dating one of Torontos biggest athletes, especially around the office where his team was a topic of conversation on the daily. Not even your closest work friends knew who exactly you were dating. And it was good that way.

I Thanks for the coffee, exactly what I needed x

----------------------

The week after that lunch from your favorite restaurant was delivered in the same manner as the coffee was. No name on the order but yours, making your co-workers once again wonder if you were lying to them about not ordering it for yourself or if you actually didn’t.

You were knee deep into the finishing touches for one of the biggest projects of the quarter and barely had time to go and grab lunch from the cafeteria, much less to make the trip to any restaurant more than five minutes away from the building.

The delivery was godsend and like he knew, he sent enough so you had something to keep for the evening, since it was almost sure that you had to stay longer than usual and would only arrive home late, way after dinner time.

You hummed contently when you took the first bite, almost letting out a moan at how good the food felt after hours of working without taking a break.

He once again knew exactly what you needed at the right time, like he was a psychic that could read your mind all the way from his road trip across the country.

I thanks for lunch and dinner, exactly what I needed. Can´t wait to see you tomorrow. x

----------------------

The third time it happened was a week later when you finished the big presentation, and everyone gathered for a small party to celebrate the success, and that the client was happy with everything you had come up with in the weeks of hard work.

You were a little bummed because most people invited their significant others to the bar you were gathered at, unfortunately you couldn’t. Firstly, because your boyfriend wasn’t even in the country and secondly because still, no one knew who he even was.

A few of your co-workers asked about him but you kept telling them that he was away for work. Sometimes you wondered if they even believed you that he existed because you never mentioned him by name or brought him to any work functions that warranted bringing a plus one.

When a delivery person entered the bar, shouting your name for everyone to hear, you froze. “Sign here,” the guy rushed out, putting the tablet in front of your face quicker than you could react to anything.

You scribbled your signature before he handed you a box, a beautiful bouquet of flowers peeking through a hole at the top.

When you opened it, a bouquet waited for you, alongside a card.

One of your co-workers snatched it directly from the box before you could react. “Hey,” you laughed. “Congratulations on finishing your big project, sorry I can´t be there to celebrate. A.” she read.

You blushed at the message, he once again knew exactly what you needed from him in order to feel better about him not being there with you.

“Woah, we know mystery man is in fact real, and his first name starts with an A? We´ve been waiting for this confirmation for months!” you shook your head laughing. “That´s some expensive flowers, he´s got money.” Someone else chimed in.

“Give me that,” you laughed, snatching the card back before they could ask about it even more.

“One day you will introduce us to him,” someone chuckled. “Who knows, maybe you already know him,” you teased which only raised more eyebrows.

I The flowers are beautiful, thank you so much. x

--------------------------------

When you arrived at Auston´s place that night you were exhausted. The months leading up to this day catching up with you, swallowing all the energy you had left in your body, almost making you too tired to get out of the car and walk up to his door.

When you finally mustered up enough strength to make your way, he was already waiting in the frame. An easy smile on his lips, Felix next to him, excitedly wiggling his tail at your arrival.

“Hey snuff,” you greeted the dog, quickly patting his head before standing up straight again to greet your boyfriend, the flowers firm in one hand.

“Hey,” you greeted the tall man, a shy smile on your lips. “Hey,” he chuckled, opening his arms so you could slip right into his comfortable embrace.

Tension left your body as soon as he wrapped his arms around you. The familiarity of his arms taking every ounce of stress away for the moment.

“Long day?” Auston whispered in your hair. “Long month,” you replied chuckling. “Come on, I ordered some food and when were done I can set you up a bath before we go to bed.” You let out a loud sigh. Exactly what you needed.

---------------------

After eating on the couch, chatting about your days in hushed voices between laughter and shared bites, he made his way to the upstairs bathroom to set up a bath while you cleaned up the plates and made sure Felix got another snack before heading upstairs to join him.

The bathroom was lit up with a few candles he pulled from God knows where and it was smelling like your favorite bath salt. The one that you usually kept for special occasions because it was expensive.

“Since when do you have my favorite bathing salt in your bathroom?” He just laughed and shrugged his shoulders.

Raising you eyebrows at him you decided to let it go without questioning it any further and to just enjoy that he was paying enough attention to actually know what to buy.

While you were enjoying the warmth of the water relaxing your muscles and taking your mind off things Auston rumbled around downstairs doing something you didn’t care enough about to question. Every now and then you heard clinking, but it wasn’t worrying enough to go and check out.

A few minutes later he came back and handed you a glass of wine. “How did you know?” you questioned with another raised eyebrow, but he once again just shrugged and smiled before leaving you alone to soak and relax for as long as you wanted.

When the water started to get cold you got out. On the toilet laid a navy-colored hoodie. The exact one he was wearing earlier when you were sitting on the couch.

He knew one of you favorite things to do after a long day was to wear his hoodies, especially when there were worn and smelled like him.

You slipped the soft fabric over your head and inhaled deeply before putting your stuff away and making your way back to the living room after a quick detour to the bedroom to grab your phone and drop off your bag that you discharged in the hallway on your way.

Auston was snuggled up with Felix on the couch, your favorite movie already cued up, a warm blanket draped over him, the other half waiting for you to cuddle under and relax for the rest of the evening.

“You´re spoiling me today,” you mumbled after cozying up under the blanket, one arm placed on his chest, while your head rested on his shoulder.

“You deserve some relaxation after the month you had. I know how hard you worked.” A soft kiss to the crown of your head followed before the room was filled by only the sound of the movie and your soft breathing.

When you opened your eyes the next time the credits were rolling and Auston was playing on his phone. “Good morning,” he chuckled lightly before putting the device away.

“Hey,” you mumbled quietly. “Slept well?” he asked, an amused smile spreading on his face. “Yeah, but I need to go to bed, otherwise I won´t make it up,”

A soft laugh left his mouth. “Come on,” he said, getting up and holding out a hand for you to grab. When you stood at your full height he bent down and swept you off your feed, carrying your bridal style up the stairs.

“I can walk on my own, you know?”

Careful to not drop you he laughed. “I know, but sometimes you deserve to be carried.”

You shook your head but laughed at his remark.

When you were nestled in bed together, his arm lazily slung around your waist, your hand softly drawing the patterns of his tattooed arm you sighed. “What´s up?” he whispered.

“This evening was all I needed, from getting the flowers all the way to now,” you sensed that he felt a but coming. “no but, I promise, just a question,”

He nodded his head in a motion for you to go on. “How do you always know exactly what I need? Not that I´m complaining but it is a little scary that you sent me coffee the exact moment I was craving some, or sent me lunch on a day where I did not have time to get some myself?”

A quiet laugh left his mouth. “Easy question. It’s because I know you.”

“Thank you, for knowing me and for taking care of me.” You mumbled, already half asleep again. “That´s what I´m here for,” he laughed, which was the last thing you heard before you drifted off into sleep again.

[hellfiremunsonn]

Not So Into It. Eddie Munson x Reader.

Not So Into It.

I DO NOT ALLOW MY WRITING TO BE REPUBLISHED ANYWHERE OTHER THAN MY OWN BLOG WITHOUT MY CONSENT

Summary: Sometimes you try to push through when you shouldn't and Eddie notices right away.

18 + IF YOU ARE NOT 18 OR OLDER DO NOT READ OR INTERACT WITH MY WRITING. IT IS NOT INTENDED FOR MINORS. I AM NOT RESPONSIBLE FOR THE MEDIA YOU CONSUME.

Warnings: Fem reader though no real fem descriptions used, pet names obv. Not entirely explicit. Reader tries to endure the rest of sex though she's not really feeling it anymore. Eddie is super sweet and makes sure she knows its fine whenever she wants to stop. (IF THERES ANYTHING I MISSED LET ME KNOW)

AN: Slightly self indulgent (as most of my fics are) I've realized recently that I've pushed through having sex with partners despite no longer being in the mood, because it's 'easier' that asking them to stop, and making them upset. (rather the fear of making them upset) so I was day dreaming about how Eddie would react and then started writing this. Also I did not make a header for this and it feels naked and I hate it so I'll probably add one later maybe or not idk I have ADHD.

Word count: 764

You've been at it for maybe about fifteen minutes now. The roll of eddies hips as he thrusts into you lazily, occasionally picking up speed before slowing back down. Kissing you all over, and murmuring words of filthy praise.

And it's wonderful it is; And the foreplay before hand was even better, but now you've sort of just, lost interest in it. But Eddie is fucking into you so nicely, and he's so worked up that you don't want to stop him.

Especially because he spent so much time working you up on his fingers and with his mouth, so only for you to 'spoil' it by stopping so soon felt mean. So instead you wrapped your arms around his neck and buried your face into the crook of it, trying to encourage him to go faster, to chase that release you know he wants, and you want to give it to him. 

It doesn't take Eddie long to notice that you're no longer into it when you sort of go quiet. You're not clinging to him like you usually do, and when you do make any noise, it's not full of pleasure and want, it's more involuntary. He pulls back enough to catch a glimpse of your face, watching how you close your eyes almost immediately, biting at your lip as if you're pretending it feels good. 

"Babe?" Eddie murmurs out, a little breathless and hoarse, slowing his hips until you open your eyes. 

"Yeah baby? Why'd you stop?" you say cheerfully, cringing at the sound of your own voice because you know it doesn't sound very convincing. 

"Are you okay?" He asks instead of answering your question, his eyes searching your face for something.

"Yeah" you reply quickly, because you are technically okay, you just don't really want to be having sex anymore. 

"You're not really into it right now though are you?" It's more of a statement than a question, because he knows you.

You hesitate for a moment, debating lying, but how could you when you have the most wonderful boyfriend in the world looking down at you like that. "Well... N-no not really, but it's okay you can finish, I don't want to like blue ball-"

"Blue ball me?" He scolds, rolling his eyes before pulling out of you slowly, pulling his boxers back up over his hips and moving to sit next to you. 

You cover your face with your hands. Face heating up in embarrassment and guilt. "I'm sorry" you mumble, feeling an annoying wave of emotions creep up on you. 

"Sorry? baby you've got nothing to be sorry about" Eddies confused, and his heart hurts seeing you upset, especially over something like this. "It's okay that you wanted to stop, it's always okay when you want to stop" He says firmly, pausing so you understand the sincerity of his words."I just wish you had said something sooner" he murmurs softly, reaching up to gently tug your hands away from your face, sighing when he sees your wet eyes and the tears that roll down your temples. "C'mere" he says while tugging at your hands once more, pulling you over to him until your head rests against his chest, warm where your cheek is pressed. 

"I just didn't want you to be upset" You mumble. You know it's stupid, because Eddie has never once been upset when stopping before and you've never felt like you had to perform for him, but you just couldn't help the lingering guilt of past experiences creep up on you. "You d-did all that work for me, it's not fair that you have to stop"

"Baby I'm going to stop you right there... no pun intended" He giggles. "I don't care if I do all the work and then some, I like pleasing you just to please you, it barely has anything to do with me, and if I was really that desperate, I could literally just go jerk off" he says this so easily, because truthfully it is, and deep down you know that, because consent and love are two beautiful things especially when combined. 

"Now why don't we get you dressed back up on some comfy clothes, and we can cuddle for as long as you want. Sound good?" He trails his fingers across your hairline, down from your temple to your jaw and back up until you give him the smallest nod. He kisses you on the forehead and helps you get dressed before pulling you back against his chest where he holds you until you feel just a little bit more normal again. 

[hufflepuffsthunderdome]

Never There

Chef Luca x GN!reader Summary: Your boyfriend is struggling to manage work and his commitment to you, and it's coming out in way's he hates Warning: Angst, kinda ooc Luca, illusions to depression, anxiety A/N: I'm so sorry anon I deleted your request on accident! But enjoy regardless! This is a bit depressing so be warned, might do a part 2

The apartment was dead quiet by the time Luca got home, cringing to himself when the front door squeaked when he pushed it open, trying desperately to be gentle when he shut the door behind him. Shrugging off his coat and shoes and scarf, he dumps them all by the door, taking note of the soft glimmer of light coming from the living room of your shared apartment. As he steps inside, his eyes immediately fall on your form, curled up on the couch, half under a blanket as you sleep peacefully, still done up nicely from work, looking gorgeous even with your face half pressed into the pillow.

Strewn across the coffee table are the remnants of dinner, a half empty, now luke warm bottle of wine - cheap wine, he notes with a laugh when he picks it up - a pair of wine glasses, one used, one clean, and a number of candles strewn around the place, most of them having died on their own but a few still flickering with light.

On the floor lays your phone, where you no doubt dropped it as you dozed off, the screen illuminating when he picks it up.

"I'll be home soon, my love, just finishing up now ❤️," his text to you, sent 45 minutes before he walked through the door, the third one he's sent you this evening, promising he'd be home soon, this one remained unread.

His throat feels tight as the feeling of guilt settles in, watching you lie sleeping on the couch, not having even gotten changed from work - you were that excited for him to get home - as the remnants of what was clearly meant to be a nice night spent together go wasted.

In the kitchen, you've stuck a sticky note on the microwave, orange and bright with your messy scribble, "I was starving so I couldn't wait, but there's pasta in the fridge. Wake me up if I fall asleep when you get home, I want to watch The Devil Wears Prada"

The microwave clock flashed under your note, 01:36AM. There's no way he could wake you up at this hour.

He sits on the balcony with his reheated pasta, trying to let the cold air calm the painful ache in his chest as he pokes at his dinner. He carried you to bed, mumbling something sweet to you when you stirred, forcing back a sick feeling of guilt when he laid you down and you wouldn't let go, feeling a stab to his heart at the whimper you made when he had to pry your hands away.

He'd sent a message to his coworkers, letting them know he was calling in sick tomorrow. He was exhausted - mentally and physically - and he didn't think he would be able to face the world tomorrow, let alone focus on baking anything. He just didn't have it in him to handle it, this heavy guilt lying thick on his shoulders and weighing him down until it felt impossible.

He knew his choice meant he'd have to face you, have to watch your excitement crumble, all because of him, when he tells you he's too tired to do anything fun. All he wants to do is be with you, spend every second of the day he can with you, but the inevitable disappointment always comes; he always manages to rip away his little moment of peace, the ounce of happiness he manages to give you.

Even now, as he sits on the balcony, shivering from the cold, he knows you're there, in your shared bed, waiting for him. You'll curl up into him the second he climbs into bed with you, letting him embrace and sink into your warmth that he knows he doesn't deserve - letting him embrace your love that he's starting to doubt he deserves.

What kinda man does this to his partner? Leaves them for hours at home alone, while they wait patiently for him, not complaining, just smiling brightly when he walks through the doors, whatever hour that may be. He dragged you all the way here for him, all the way to Copenhagen, so he could follow his dreams, and now he was neglecting you in the pursuit of more. You have your own things going on, a successful career, friends, hobbies, and yet you still make time for him, to keep him involved in your life even as he starts to feel like a burden.

It felt like he was barely hanging on, everything balancing by a thread as he attempts to keep it together, watching as he lets you slip away the more he neglects your relationship. He felt too weak to do anything about it, too scared to trust the bakery with anyone else, and too selfish to let you go find someone who can give you the attention you deserve.

He doesn't even realise he's crying until he feels his face begin to sting, the cold, harsh air hitting his damp cheeks, pulling him out of his thoughts. The only thing he let himself think as he walked back inside was how desperately he needed sleep.

His back aches when he wakes up in the morning, the sound of his phone dinging pulling him from his uncomfortable sleep, stretched out on the couch.

My Love: "Did you forget your coat today? You're gonna freeze on your way home ❤️"

He groans as his eyes adjust to the light, pulling himself up and stretching to shake off the ache in his back. "I'm still here, love," he calls out, assuming you're somewhere in the apartment.

The silence that follows is almost deafening, as he almost hears the confusion, before your head pops out from around the kitchen archway, a bright smile on his face, "Luca?"

He just nods as he looks away, unable to face the feelings that settle in his stomach as he watches you smile at him like that. You're giddy with excitement as you walk over, coffee forgotten on the kitchen island as you stop in front of him, hands gently on his face as you tilt his head to look up at you.

"Why're you home?" you ask with a laugh, eyes crinkling as you take in his sleepy face looking up at you.

"Called out today," he murmurs back as he turns his head, nudging your hands away with more force than he intended.

"Are you sick?" you ask gently, the worry evident in your face as you bend down to catch his eyes. Again, he just shakes his head as he looks away from you, suddenly interested in the magazine laying on the coffee table.

"Just needed a day off," he murmurs, forcing a bitter laugh as he thinks about how childish this feels, like he's asking his mum for a day home from school.

"This is great," you say excitedly as you kneel down in front of him, your smile shining brightly as your eyes light up with excitement, "we can go out if you like? Nothing fancy, maybe just grab lunch? We haven't had a day off together in months."

You say it so casually that it makes Luca's stomach drop; the excitement you feel at getting the absolute bare minimum from him makes him feel sick as he watches you talk. His brain feels foggy as he watches your lips move, the words sounding muffled as he struggles to focus.

"I think I need to go lie down," he cuts in, turning away just as the smile on your face drops to one of concern as you watch him get up. He hears you call his name after him as he walks towards your bedroom, the door shutting behind him before you can say anything else.

He wakes up with a groggy groan when he feels the bed shift next to him, immediately leaning into it when he feels your presence sit next to him. "Do you need anything?" you whisper softly as you card your gentle hand through his hair, pulling a contented sigh from his lips as you wake him from his sleep. He shakes his head as he lets his eyes flutter open again, looking up at you. The light shines in from the window, peaking through the blinds he has drawn shut. It casts a halo around your head, a warm glow across your body that leaves his throat feeling dry as he looks up at you.

"You're so beautiful," he murmurs, words desperately trying to follow that he forces back. I'm sorry, I'm fucking this up, you're too good for me.

"You're not so bad yourself," you say with a soft laugh as your hand moves to cup his jaw, thumb running along his cheek as you try to shift the suddenly intimate mood to something lighter.

He just keeps his eyes locked on you, watching the way you light up as you smile down at him, leaning into your touch. "I love you," he murmurs softly as he lets his eyes shut again, "I just need to sleep."

"You sleep, baby," you murmur as you plant your lips against his temple, "I'll be here when you wake up."

For the next three day's that's pretty much all he did, sleep. Slept his days away while he heard you bounce around the house, come and go from work, dot on him with the kind of care he hates that he loves so much. He just did nothing but lay there.

He'd called off work for the next few days, letting himself rot away as he struggled to find the ability to do anything else, spending his nights sitting on the balcony, chain smoking cigarettes until he made his stomach nautious and his head spin, chasing anything that will stop him from fighting himself over the anxieties that have been plaguing him all week.

"What's wrong?" you ask gently, almost afraid to break the silence as you push open the doors gently onto the balcony, leaning against the frame as you take in the sight of your boyfriend. Shirtless, leaning against the railing, shoulders tense as he smokes, something you haven't seen him do in a long while.

He doesn't say anything, just lets out a shaky exhale of white smoke as he remains unmoving. You stand there for a while, unsure what to do as you just watch Luca, watching him work through whatever is clearly going through his mind right now.

"You're smoking again?" You ask, the nerves rising in your voice as his silence feels suffocating. He nods this time, at least giving you some sign he's listening. You step out onto the balcony, warm hands finding his cold back as you run it gently up his spine, smiling softly to yourself as the tension visibly eases under your touch, "what's wrong?"

He shakes his head, turning to face you, "nothing," he says, opening his mouth again to continue before obviously deciding it against it and turning away again.

"Do you wanna come to bed?"

He tenses again under your palm, shaking his head, "I'm not tired."

"Still," you continue, "you shouldn't be out in the cold like this -"

"I'm fine -"

"You'll get sick -"

"I'm fine -"

"Besides, it's like 3 o'clock and you -"

"I said I'm fine."

You step back, looking up at him, eyes wide with shock as you take in his forceful tone, fumbling with your words as you try to find the right ones to say, "Luca I -"

He groans, almost painfully, as you watch him bury his head in his hands, cigarette falling from his fingers and dropping down to the street below as he tugs his hair. He hunches in on himself, resting his forehead against the cold metal railing as you watch his back heave as his breathing grows ragged, "go inside."

You move forward gently, hand reaching out to touch his arm, flinching back when he moves away from you, as if your touch hurt him. Standing there with his back to you, you watch as he tilts his head back, breath coming out in white, cold puffs as you hear him begin to cry.

You're too stunned to move, as you watch him break down, in total shock as the emotions pour out of him. He chokes out your name through the tears, "I don't think I can do this."

"Do what Luca?" you ask gently, your own eyes burning with tears threatening to fall as you watch your boyfriend break down. He's silent for a while, crying softly as he mulls over his next words, fighting an invisible war with himself that he's too scared to let you see.

"Please just go back to bed," he murmurs eventually.

Taglist: @gallyismylittlesilly @mcu-queen @k-pevensie28 @famousladyalpaca @vinecstasy @hrtsvivis @limensodaa @momattmoproblems @daydreamgirly1221 @knoxvilleshappytrail

[dreamauri]

♪ — 𝗪𝗜𝗥𝗘𝗗 𝗜𝗡? - part ten max verstappen x reader ( angst ) series summary . . . when he wants to be normal, he can count on you, stranger.

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You didn’t mean to RSVP.

You were just scrolling. Killing time between tasks. Looking for something — anything — that wasn’t work emails or Spotify playlists that used to be his. But there it was.

A racing sim event. In your city. One night only. Free entry. Sign up below.

You don’t think. You just click.

When you arrive, it’s loud in the kind of way that used to feel like home. The air smells like overpriced energy drinks and sweat and Red Bull-branded lanyards. The rigs are lined up like altars. The screens flash track maps and names and usernames.

Your namecard marker runs out halfway through, so you scribble it fast and messy:

Ajla.

Three letters and a half that feel like a phantom limb.

You don’t think anyone will notice. You’re wrong.

“Wait . . . Ajla?” a voice calls as you’re adjusting your gloves. “Like Ajla-Ajla?”

You look up. Two guys are walking over, big grins on their faces. One of them is already mid-step into a hug.

“It’s Elijah,” the taller one says like a mic drop. “Can you not tell from my voice?!”

You blink. “Elijah—?”

And then you’re laughing. Actually laughing. It doesn’t quite reach your ribs, but it gets close. Elijah hugs you like an old server pal would — brief, enthusiastic, real.

“I can’t believe you came,” he says, stepping back. “It’s been ages. You still racing much?”

You hesitate. “Not . . . really. Took a break.”

Elijah hums, nudging your shoulder like it’s nothing. “Well, you’re here now. That’s what matters.”

You settle into your rig with shaky fingers.

Your heart is louder than the fans whirring beneath the screen.

You finish top six.

Respectable. Solid. Not bad for someone whose hands haven’t held a wheel in months.

You try to slip out before anyone notices. You’re halfway to the exit, jacket half-zipped, when Elijah catches up.

“That was a hell of a final lap,” he says. “Honestly? If Amilian was here, though… he would’ve cleared everyone.”

You freeze mid-step. Something in your chest pulls hard — sharp and sudden, like a snapped brake line.

You laugh again, but this time it feels like lying. You nod, like it doesn’t hurt. Like your heart didn’t just remember how to mourn.

Because Amilian isn’t here. And in your world, he’s dead.

That night, you don’t turn on the TV. You don’t open Discord. But you do plug the rig back in.

Just to see if it still fits—whatever that means.

The startup hum is familiar, soft and electric. The wheel lights up, green and waiting. Your hands settle into it like muscle memory. Like prayer.

You don’t join a race. You just sit there.

And think.

About the boy who made you laugh through the headset. About the voice that steadied your breathing. About how real he felt.

You rest your forehead against the rim of the wheel.:

If he was real… and the feelings were real… does it matter how it started?

The rig lights blink quietly in response. 

Like maybe . . . maybe it never ended.

[a-suspicious-number-of-ducks]

Hermit-a-Day May, day 12: Pearl + wallpaper collage (wip)

[Image ID: a photo of art of Minecraft YouTuber Pearlescentmoon made out of cut pieces of colored and textured paper. Pearl is wearing her postmaster outfit: white high top shoes with black soles; maroon pants; a white short-sleeved button-up shirt with gold buttons and teal sleeve cuffs; and a classic mail carrier hat in white with a black brim, a teal band, and a gold oval in the center representing an insignia. She is also wearing an overstuffed messenger bag with letters poking out of the flap. With her right hand, Pearl is saluting; her left arm is missing below the cuff of her sleeve. One of her blue eyes is open, while the other is shut in a wink. She has large homing pigeon wings flared behind her; the wings are largely gray with black tips on the primaries and secondaries (the big, long feathers at the bottom) and white coverts (the little feathers at the top). The art is lying on a background of different sheets of paper--two shades of tan with subtle silhouettes of trees in a lighter color, as well as plain white. In places that the paper does not cover, the grid of a cutting mat can be seen. ./End ID]

Today's style/medium is wallpaper collage! I don't... actually know if this is a real, established art thing? I've never seen anyone else do something quite like this? But once when I was a tiny baby child, I walked into Sherwin Williams with my mom to look at paint for our house and walked out with a ton of books of wallpaper samples that they were getting rid of. I said I would make art with them... and then I proceeded to not get around to making art with them for at least twelve years. Every time my parents suggested I get rid of them, I would insist that I was going to use them eventually. Last year was my first year doing HADM, and I decided the wallpaper books were finally going to be used... and then I proceeded to work on that Pearl art for about three days straight before realizing I could not, in fact, finish it in time. But I'd used the books! I was justified in having kept them for all that time!

Fast forward to this year, and I dusted off the half-finished collage project and started again. And I still didn't finish it in time. You may have noticed from the photo that her left arm is missing, for instance. This year, however, I decided to post what I've got so far, since it's almost finished. Maybe by next year (but hopefully much sooner), I'll have the finished version to show y'all! I'll list and discuss all my references then, but for now, there's an extra photo under the cut.

[Image ID: Another photo of the same art as before, but from closer up. The framing is vertical and focuses on Pearl's torso and face. The photo is taken from a low angle to show the textures and layers of the paper. ./End ID]

[charliegyrth]

Giving In - Part 1 of 2

Carl Wants a Belly

“Let’s get that,” Carl said as he walked shirtless out of the bathroom.

I was already in bed, enjoying the sight of my handsome boyfriend strutting toward me. He was 5’8” and very slim, a prototypical twink if his chest and happy trail weren’t so dark and hairy. I loved that about him.

“Get what, babe?”

“What do you mean?”

“You just said ‘let’s get that.’ What are you talking about?”

He laughed as he crawled into bed. He climbed on top of me and slid his hands over my hairless, muscular chest. “I said, ‘let’s get fat.’ You should have your ears checked.”

“Oh… Wait, what?”

“I’m serious. Wouldn’t that be fun? Give in to all the gluttony. Treat ourselves to all the delicious foods that we’re too scared to eat. Add a bit of chub to our bellies.” He moved his hands to my flat stomach and patted it like a drum. “What do you think?”

“I think you’re crazy.”

“Am I, though? The only reason I stayed fit was because I wanted to land a boyfriend. And guess what? I landed one.” He kissed me.

“I don’t want you to get fat,” I said. “I like the way you look.”

“Thanks, Max I like the way you look, too. But I’d also like you with a chubby little tummy.” He kissed my stomach. “Would you be open to that?”

“No.”

“Okay,” he said, as if it wasn’t a big deal. He slid off me and stretched his lean body next to mine. He kept rubbing circles on my stomach.

He was clearly thinking about what I would feel like with a gut.

“Why would you even want that?”

“I don’t know. I just thought of it in the shower. I was like, ‘I wonder what Max and I would look like with chubby bellies.’ And then I came out here and mentioned it to you. But I guess you’re not interested.”

I stiffened in my pajama bottoms. Carl noticed.

“Or maybe you are.”

“I’m not.”

“Your body doesn’t lie, Max. You like when I talk about our future bellies.”

I got harder.

“See?”

“No. It’s because I’m lying in bed and my boyfriend can’t stop touching me.”

He pulled his hand away, leaned close, and whispered in my ear, “Bellies.”

I was hard as a rock.

“That doesn’t prove anything.”

“Ugh. You’re the worst.” He flopped his head onto the pillow.

I wasn’t in the mood before, but now I really was. I reached toward the nightstand for the lube.

“Nope. Not interested.”

“Why?”

“Because you’re denying your feelings, Max! Come on. Just think about it. We won’t have to go to the gym anymore. We can eat whatever we want. And we can… I don’t know. Do a bunch of other stuff.”

“I really don’t know what’s gotten into you,” I said.

“Good night, Max.” He clicked off the lamp.

“Okay, fine. I’ll consider it.”

Carl climbed on top of me. I’d just told him what he wanted to hear.

***

I woke up late the next morning. After our very strange conversation last night, we stayed awake pretty late. I was still sore.

I could smell something delicious from the kitchen.

“Carl? What are you cooking?”

I found him in front of the stove, wearing an apron and nothing else. His muscular ass was on full display, round and firm and quite hairy. His cheeks shifted as he balanced from one foot to the other. He was so focused on cooking that he didn’t hear me.

“Carl!”

He spun around. “Morning, honey. I’m making pancakes!”

“Is this because you want us to get fat?”

“Maybe.”

“I told you I’d consider it. I didn’t agree to—”

“Consider it over breakfast,” he said. “I’m almost done.”

I trudged over to the counter and sat in my usual chair. Less than a minute later, he brought over a stack of pancakes. He’d made a dozen of ’em.

���I’m going to have one,” I said.

“Sure. Me too.”

He locked eyes on me as we both ate. I had to admit, it was delicious. It had been years since I’d had pancakes. I didn’t even know we had the ingredients.

“Good, right?”

“Yeah,” I grumbled.

Pretty soon, my plate was empty. I really wanted another one, but I didn’t want Carl to read anything into it.

He finished his, too.

“I'll have another if you do.”

I sighed. “Fine.”

We both scooped up another pancake from the pile. I added a bit more syrup this time.

God, it was delicious.

“So what do you wanna do today?” he asked. “We can check out the farmers’ market.”

“I thought we were going to the gym.” We always went to the gym on Sunday.

“We could, if you really want,” he said. “Or we could stroll around the farmers’ market, maybe go thrifting afterward. Wouldn’t that be fun?”

I saw what he was doing, and it wasn’t going to work.

“I’d prefer to go to the gym,” I muttered through a mouthful of pancake.

“Yeah? You think running on a treadmill is more fun than a lazy day of shopping with your boyfriend?”

“No. But…”

“See? If we allowed ourselves to chunk out a little, we’d do fun stuff. Together. Stuff we actually want to do.”

“Fine,” I said. I looked down at my plate. The second pancake was already gone. I hadn’t realized I’d eaten it so fast.

Carl sped up to finish his, too. “Have another.”

“No!” I said.

“Are you full?”

“Yes,” I lied. I really wanted a third one. Dang, why did they have to be so delicious?

“Suit yourself. But it’s okay if I have another one, right?”

“Whatever.”

He hummed to himself as he took another pancake and smothered it with syrup. He moaned as he chewed the first bite. “Mmm. So good.”

I glared at him as I took a third pancake for myself.

“See? We’re having fun already.”

***

The farmer’s market was incredible. Carl loaded up on a bunch of fruits and veggies, spending a lot less than we would at Trader Joe’s. I was particularly excited to try the plums. Those looked delicious.

It was a sunny day, and we strolled down the aisles holding hands.

“Now isn’t this so much better than the gym?” Carl asked.

I grumbled.

“Why are you trying so hard to be gloomy?”

“Sorry.”

“Apology accepted. Ooh, look! Ice cream!” He ran over to the ice cream stall, his ass looking particularly perky in his short shorts. I loved when he wore those.

I followed close behind. “Aren’t you full from those pancakes?” Against my better judgment, we’d eaten all of them. Six each. I still felt guilty about that.

“Well, yeah. But… I mean, ice cream! You love ice cream!”

“I’m not getting ice cream.”

“Can I, though?”

I shrugged.

He ordered a double scoop of sweet cream with Reese’s cups. He knew that was my favorite. I watched him take a lick and absolutely melt at the taste. “God!”

“Fine. I’ll have the same.”

We sat on the grass, eating our ice cream. Carl looked happier than he’d ever been. “You know, I really missed this.”

“What?”

“Just spending time with you. It would be great if we did this kind of stuff more often.”

And it would. I loved seeing him so happy.

But I still didn’t like what he wanted to do to us.

“I’m not going to get fat, Carl.”

“That’s okay. No pressure.” He looked down at his half-finished ice cream. “And if I do, just me, that would bother you?”

I didn’t respond. I wanted to say yes, but I knew that would ruin the moment.

He took my silence as an answer. “Oh,” he said, filled with disappointment. He put the rest of his ice cream to the side.

“Carl, don’t be sad.”

“It’s okay,” he said in a way that definitely sounded not-okay.

I felt terrible.

“Don’t get like that. Eat your ice cream.”

“You mean…”

“Go for it.”

He picked up his dessert and gave it another lick. “Even if I get a little belly?”

“Yeah. Even if you get a little belly.”

He kissed my cheek, leaving behind a sticky lip-print.

***

When we got home that afternoon, we had produce, a weirdly-accurate caricature of Carl, and a vintage lamp to go in my study. We were also full of pancakes, ice cream, funnel cake, and greasy sandwiches from a diner.

Despite all my protests, Carl always got his way. He always knew what to say to make me give in. He was like an adorable, little supervillain.

But if we kept having days like these, he wouldn’t be little for much longer.

“Wanna watch a movie?” he asked. He was already on the couch, switching on Netflix.

“Sure.”

“How about a romcom?”

“No romcoms, please.” Carl had the worst taste in movies.

“Okay. You pick.” He handed me the remote. “I’ll go make us some popcorn.”

I didn’t argue. I knew he’d guilt me into caving in again.

When he came back, I’d chosen a horror-comedy and Carl had a massive bowl of the butteriest popcorn imaginable. I told myself that I wouldn't eat any of it, but of course, I did.

Read Part 2 here. You can find all my stories here.

[marvelavengerspovs1]

Winter Wolf Ch. 9

Winter Wolf Masterlist

Warnings: mentions of Y/N, mentions of violence

Length: 1k

A/N: Hello! I just finished finals and I wanted to post something. I have two WIPs and I'll put up a poll later this week when they're done!

I do not give consent for my work to be translated, copied, or sold!

Bucky stares at the wall, trying not to think. His doll was taken from him and he wasn’t able to stop it.

Sam couldn’t help but feel bad for Bucky. The two never really saw eye to eye and the only common thing they shared was Steve. However, Sam could tell your disappearance was taking a toll on Bucky.

“I can feel you staring,” Bucky says.

“We’ll get her back Bucky,” Sam promises him.

“How can you be so sure?” Bucky was always pessimistic, but this was a new type of pessimistic for him.

“Because Y/N is strong. She can hold her own, she doesn’t need the rest of us.”

“This wouldn’t have happened if Wanda protected her.” Bucky looks up at the entranceway and maintains eye contact with Wanda.

Bucky could tell that she was there before she even let herself be known. Not only did his super hearing help but he was an ex-assassin. He was trained to know what his targets would do before they even knew what they were going to do.

“Bucky-” Sam tried to reason but Wanda spoke up.

“I said I was sorry! I protected her the best that I could! There wasn’t anything I could do!” Wanda’s Sokovian accent became more prominent as her voice rose.

“But did you really?” Bucky stood from his place on the couch and got in Wanda’s face.

“Of course I did! She is one of my best friends and I would never let her get hurt!” Wanda started to cry.

“Well, you didn’t try hard enough! If you did, she would still be here!” Bucky was yelling in Wanda’s face at this point.

He knew that he would have to apologize at one point but he couldn’t be bothered. You were missing and in Hydra’s hands. That was not a good mix and Bucky knew from personal experience.

“That is enough!” Sam gets between the two.

Bucky looks at Sam with a glare before backing up slowly.

“He’s right Sam,” Wanda whispers.

“No, he’s not. And Bucky knows this. We’re all feeling affected by Y/N’s disappearance but going at each other’s throats like this is not going to help us. Now I want both of you to go and clear your heads. Tony is going to call a meeting in 20 minutes and I don’t want you both to be killing each other.”

Bucky is the first to leave. He couldn’t stand being in the same room as someone who claims to have protected you to the best of their abilities. She was the most powerful Avenger and she couldn’t take on Hydra. He went to your room to lay on your bed.

He looks around your room. You never painted your room so the walls were the same boring beige it was when you arrived, but everything in the room screamed Y/N. From the paintings on the walls to the knickknacks lying around. Bucky closes his eyes as he breathes in your smell from your pillow, willing for you to come home soon.

Meanwhile, at a base in Sokovia, Hydra has you. This was one of the last remaining bases that had gone undetected by the Avengers. They had used the base the Avengers had thought they destroyed when Ultron was around.

Your screams filled the room as they continued to use electroshocks on you. Hydra continues to wipe your memories as you try to hold onto them.

Flashes of Bucky’s face come to your mind as you scream and cry. You had already forgotten the others but you were trying desperately to hold onto the good memories.

His face soon begins to fade and your cries start to slow down. You don’t know why you’re crying but you know you’re in immense pain.

A man in all-black clothing brings a container that is illuminating a yellow light. You’re still screaming but the brightness of it entrances you. It’s nothing you have ever seen before but then again, you can’t even remember your name.

The man hooks the container up to the machine that is currently holding you. Fear runs through your veins as you realize that these people are the reason you are in pain.

You start to thrash around, screaming for them to let you go.

“Inject her and then shock her again.” Another man says.

“Yes sir.”

You see large paddles with needles coming at you and you scream louder. You beg them to let you go as you cry, but it was no use. Hydra is too inhumane to care.

The needles inject the glowing yellow light into you and you feel something tighten around your head. Flashes of pain go through your body until you don’t feel anything anymore.

There is no pain. No emotion. Nothing. You sit there, staring off into the void. Not a single thought crossed your mind. You were empty.

“She’s ready sir,” A woman also dressed in black says.

Back at the Avengers compound, Bucky is woken up by a hard knock on the door. He had fallen asleep in your room.

He got up and quietly thanked whoever was pounding on the door. The dream, or rather a nightmare, he was having about you was horrible.

He opened the door and saw Sam standing there. “Tony is wanting everyone in the meeting room now.”

“I’ll be there, give me a minute.” Bucky rubs his right eye and yawns.

Sam nods and stands there for a second before saying what he has been wanting for the past few days. “If you need anyone to talk to, I’m here Bucky.”

Bucky only nods his head and closes your door. He heads to your bathroom and looks at your stuff.

Your makeup was littered across the counter, and your face creams and lotion sat in the corner. Even your toothbrush left Bucky feeling empty.

He didn’t want to touch anything so that everything would return to normal when you came home.

“I’ll find you Y/N. Even if it kills me,” Bucky whispers to himself.

Bucky looks around your room one more time before leaving and walking to the meeting room.

Tagged Readers: @ordelixx @bellabarnes1378 @sukaibg @angel-xx-1 @spookydestinydonut @harperkenobi @mcira @yeehawbrothers @waywardhunter95 @blackbirdwitch22 @baw1066

[isabella-2025]

Loving you was Complicated 2: Warnings: None just a lot of emotions.

Jey Uso X Ella (OC)

Plot: After Jey shows up at Ella's hotel room how will Ella react, and will this lead to a night of disappointment or a night of Love?

So how did we like part 2?

Thoughts?

Thank you, guys, for all the support and love. ❤️❤️

Ella Looks at Jey and says

" um Yeah you can come in."

Ella opens the door and Jey walks inside he shifts nervously, he looks at her and says

" Sorry I just didn't think you would wanna see me."

" You know you can always come to me come sit down lets talk." Ella says

Jey walks over to a chair that was by the window and sits down Ella sits across from him. Ella says

" So, I saw your match I'm sorry it ended like that."

" Yeah me to." Jey says sadly.

" you fought hard just like you always do." Ella tell him softly

" I didn't fight hard enough." Jey whispers

" Jey you fought Roman tooth and nail for that title you didn't know he was going to do that." Ella tells him.

" I didn't know nobody gave me any warning but that's not….. never mind." Jey says his voice filled with nerves

Ella can sense his nervousness so she slides her chair right up next to his, gently grabs his hands and says

" Jey, i can read you like a book you are anxious about something don't hold it in tell me what did you mean by that." Ella says gently

" It its nothing." Jey says softly.

" look at me Jey, tell me what's going on in your head." Ella says

Jey looks her his eyes filled with something neither of them wanted to name. Jey says

" I don't mean I didn't fight hard enough in the match."

" Then what did you mean Jey." Ella says while stroking his hand with her thumb attempting to ease his nerves.

" I I mean I should have fought…….." Jey trails off his voice shaking with emotion.

" Jey its okay you can tell me, you should have fought harder for what?" Ella says

" I- I- should have fought harder for you….. for us." Jey says looking her directly in the eyes.

" Jey…" Ella starts to say but Jey cuts her off and says

" hold on please I am not finished."

Ella nods and jey continues

" Ella, you were my rock the person I could go to and there no judgment or anything bad you bring a sense of peace to my life that I don't deserve."

" Jey you do deserve peace and love." Ella says

" No I don't I'm just the failure of the family and I didn't fail at that I failed at keeping the one thing that mattered to me I failed to keep you." Jey says tears brimming his eyes

Ella moves closer to Jey to where she is right in front of him. She pulls him into her arms and lets him cry on her shoulder. She softly says

" Jey, you didn't Fail and you damn sure didn't lose me."

Jey looks up at her and says

" I left you that night just like I left Sami lying in the ring like a coward."

" Hey, You left Sami because you were conflicted and he understands that." Ella says

" He doesn't understand it he doesn't even want you to talk to me I heard him tell you if something happened to not be involved with any of us especially me." Jey says

" I just told him okay where he would shut up and leave me alone I wasn't going to stop talking to you Jey." Ella says seriously

" Really." Jey says

" Yes really Jey I care about you more than you know." Ella says seriously

" Ella why didn't you contact me after that night." Jey says softly

" I was waiting for you to come to me when you were ready." Ella says

Jey gently grabs Ella's hands and says

" I am so sorry I should have I just thought Sami had gotten in your head and you didn't want to see me anymore."

" Jey, You know nobody can control me." Ella says as she giggles

Jey laughs gently and says

" Yeah, Yeah I know."

" Jey…. " Ella starts to say but Jey interrupts her.

" Ella, I need to tell you something." Jey says as he looks at her directly in the eyes.

" Okay go ahead say what you need to say Jey." Ella says

" Ella, you have always been my Rock my light my safe space and I lost you once and I don't wanna lose you again." Jey says pulling her close to him.

Ella's breath hitches and she says " Jey…. I"

" Ella please let me finish I don't want to lose you or be without you, I need you Ella I love you." Jey says as he pulls her closer to him so that she's almost in his lap now.

Ella's breath hitches as she says" Jey, you are my comfort person, my joy, my peace and I cant live without you either I love you too Jey."

Jey smiles and says

" God that is such a relief I am so glad….can I do something I have always wanted to do."

" What have you always wanted to do?" Ella says

Jey brushes some hair out of her face leans in close and whispers

" Ella, may I kiss you."

Ella looks at him smiles and with tears in her eyes says

" Yes, that's all I want."

Jey wipes a tear from her eye leans in and places a gentle kiss on her lips.

That is the story of Ella and Jey they had a happy ending even though there love was complicated.

The end

@trippinsorrows @acute-crashout-jeyuso @empressdede @punksyeet @uceyliyahh @femdisa @mytribalnightmare @eringobragh420 @southerngirl41 @officialeve24 @usoinked @bossbitch-22 @madhatterbri @purplementalitybluebird @bloodlinemadness @holycollectivekitty @jstarr86 @livslunaticdamiansdisciple18 @duhitzkay380 @bloodlinesbabe93 @theusotwinzcom @thebigredmonster @chynagirl13 @mamis-girly

[sad-girl-poetry-hours]

Belong Together

Luke Castellan x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Use of Y/N and “Sweet Girl” :)

𓇼 ⋆.˚ 𓆉 𓆝 𓆡⋆.˚ 𓇼

You and Luke decided to skip counselor activities back at camp for the day to spend time together at the beach. He immediately ran off to the water after you applied sunscreen to his skin and left you to finish setting up your little spot for the day. You packed a few sandwiches, some watermelon, and strawberries from the fields.

You laid out the picnic blanket you brought and set up your little cooler and personal items, including your current read. Since Luke was probably looking for shells to bring you, you had to struggle to put on your tanning oil by yourself. You didn’t mind it because he was too damn cute when he came over with a handful of “treasures.”

By the time he came back with his collection and soaking wet hair, you were already lying out on your stomach with your book and a handful of strawberries.

“Hey, Sweet Girl. I got you more shells for your collection!” Luke proudly dumped the small pile in front of you with a goofy grin as he waited for your inspection.

There were various shapes and colors of shells. Some had a few holes that made them perfect for necklaces, and others were going on your shelf full of trinkets that Luke had brought you throughout your relationship.

You grinned up at him, shading your eyes from the sun with your hand, “They’re perfect, Baby! I love them!”

He grins widely, clearly proud of his work, and settles next to you as you mark your spot and put your book away. Unfortunately, as soon as he knew your book was safe, he decided to lean in close and shake his head, getting the saltwater in his hair all over you. You squealed and tried to push him away, but the damage was done.

“You’re evil, Castellan!”

He just chuckles and lies down next to you, resting his chin in his hand. “You know you love me, Sweet Girl.”

You couldn’t deny it, so you just gave him a quick peck on the lips before feeding him one of your strawberries. He happily ate it, carefully examining your face. You could see the gears turning in his head as his eyes scanned over your cheeks, and a soft frown took over his features.

“Your cheeks are pink. Did you put on sunscreen?”

You couldn’t help the snort that escaped you as he gently poked your cheek. “No, I’m tanning.”

That was clearly an inadequate response because his frown deepened. “But you’re going to burn. You need sunscreen.”

It really was cute how much he worried about your skincare, especially since the last time you got a sunburn, he couldn’t hug you for three days.

“Baby, I’ll be fine. I have tanning oil on, and I've already burned this summer.”

He cocked his head to the side and raised an eyebrow. “Burning once doesn’t mean you’re suddenly impervious to a sunburn, Y/N.”

In an attempt to put this disagreement to bed, you leaned in to kiss him. Only to be met with a strawberry in your mouth instead. You chewed the strawberry and frowned, looking up at him with pleading eyes.

“I just wanted a kiss!”

Luke just chuckled softly and shook his head. “Not until you put sunscreen on, Sweet Girl.”

“But it’ll ruin my tan!” You groaned as you dropped your head to his shoulder.

Once again, he snorted and shook his head, pressing a kiss to the top of yours. “Sorry, babe. Head Counselor's rules. You gotta follow them.”

You bring your head up and raise an eyebrow at him. “Since when were you ‘Head Counselor’?”

Luke shrugs, and you roll your eyes, playfully flicking the bridge of his nose. He dramatically gasps and clutches his chest, pretending to be fatally wounded. You just giggle and kiss him tenderly.

When you pull away, Luke feigns disappointment. “I said no kisses until you put on sunscreen!”

“Yeah? And what are you going to do about it?”

The next thing you knew, Luke was tossing you over his shoulder and making his way towards the water as you squirmed and squealed.

“Luke! Put me down! I don’t wanna get wet!”

“Too bad, Sweet Girl. You did this to yourself.”

“I hate you!”

“No you don’t.”

[sporkjoints]

finished a book today and knocked out a novella this evening!! feeling good

oh, and the novella is free to read:

Avi Cantor Has Six Months to Live by Sacha Lamb

major cw for suicidal ideation but i enjoyed it :)

[forgettable-au]

FORGETTABLE-AU (Page 61-64)

* I-I don't think we were talking about the same thing...

[BEGINNING] [PREVIOUS] [CONTINUE]

[anewp0tat0]

I tried but not very hard to see what the anniversary date was, and i decided to just prepare myself for the 16th or the 18th... it was the former. so, as always, but this time truly by accident... happy belated 17th birthday Black Butler!! I truly hope this year is amazing for us.

this year, I decided to use an idea I had wanted to try for a while but I never thought I would be able to pull off. and I still probably couldn't in the best way.... but regardless, here is a made up last chapter scenario.

you can also see this comic on webtoon here. whatever your fancy, if you please :>

[swearingcactus]

ever since i heard this audio i always thought it'd fit rogue and lil v so here's to all the mom rogue enjoyers. a sequel of sorts to [this post]

[leapdayowo]

Ftfo: Chapter 5

A version with and without line art and extra details :3

so far I’m on chapter 10 with my reread of ftfo :3