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Champagne Problems | Bucky Barnes x Reader

Oh, hi! Truly, sometimes you just don't know the answer till someone's on their knees and asks you, you know? Also I hope my taglist works this time but who the fuck knows.

Word Count: 9.1k

Warnings: engagement / wedding talk, mentions of alcohol

Nat flipped through your list of invitees, crossing off a few names as she scanned the page. She took it upon herself to help you stuff, address, and mail the invitations for your engagement party, because in her words, you were “dragging your feet”. There were only five or so weeks left until the event, and you just hadn’t found the time to sit down and sort out the invitations. At least, that’s the excuse you told Nat- and yourself.

“Okay, we’re finally making some progress, we’re about halfway done,” Nat called from the dining table. “Shit. Without me, no one would even show up to this fucking party.” She didn’t mean for you to hear that second part- but her voice echoed through your nearly empty apartment.

Almost everything you owned was gone; either sold, or stored, or moved into the house you were to share with your fiancé, Cole. All that remained was your clothes, your bed, and a few odds and ends. It would’ve been far easier, far more convenient, to stay in your new house instead of living out of cardboard boxes. And far more aesthetically pleasing. The house was a nice- nicer than you’d ever be able to afford yourself. And it was beautiful. There was a lush garden in the backyard. A swing on the front porch. Even a white picket fence. You described it to everyone as “picturesque.”

But the lease on your apartment wasn’t up quite yet. You still had a few weeks until your move-out date, and you wanted to soak in as much time at the old place as you could. You loved it here. Loved the worn wooden floors and the doors that didn’t hang straight. The dent in the wall where Bucky bonked his metal elbow when you popped out of the hall closet and scared him. The corner in your bedroom where you and Bucky made a blanket fort during last winter’s blizzard. Memories papered the walls and covered the floors of this place- and most of them involved Bucky.

This was home. And while the new house was great- and fully paid for by your fiancé’s wealthy parents- it didn’t feel like you belonged there. It didn’t welcome you in or fill you with warmth. Cole’s mom said it just needed the right décor. Your friends told you it needed time. But deep down, you knew that no amount of beautiful area rugs, no amount of time, could turn your house with Cole into a home. There would always be one thing missing, one glaring and flagrant void.

Bucky.

“You’re inviting Bucky?” Nat looked up from the list and found you coming around the corner with a bowl of popcorn in hand. Her incredulous expression nearly stopped you in your tracks.

You gave her a strange look, “Yeah, of course. He’s my best friend. Why wouldn’t he be invited?”

“Okay, first of all,” Nat scoffed, “He’s your best friend- present company excluded. And second, do you really think that’s a good idea?”

You threw a few pieces of popcorn into your mouth as you settled into your chair. “Why wouldn’t it be?”

Nat rolled her eyes, “Because I don’t think it’s smart to invite the guy you’re actually in love with to a party celebrating your engagement to another man.” She threw you a shrug, “but hey, that’s just me.”

“Woah-” you almost choked on your popcorn. “I’m not in love with Bucky.”

It was the most absurd thing Nat had ever heard. “I’m not in love with Bucky!” she jeered, imitating your voice. “Yeah, right.”

“Okay, okay, jesus,” you raised your hands, miming a surrender. “I did- at one point- have romantic feelings for him,” you conceded, “but that was a while ago.”

“Oh, at one point?” Nat crossed her arms over her chest. “You say that like you had a small crush on him for a week, when we both know your ‘romantic feelings’ have been a constant ever since you became friends with the guy.”

Her accusations weren’t necessarily wrong. But they were loud. And pointed. And rubbed salt in your many wounds. “It was …” you gave a small shake of your head. “We never got the timing right, you know? It just didn’t work in our favor.” The heartache with which you’d grown familiar reared its ugly head. “But it’s fine,” you told her. “I’m engaged, now. So.”

Ever since you boyfriend, Cole, became your fiancé, you’d done your best to kill and bury your longing for Bucky. But your feelings for him weren’t so easily vanquished. They were strong and boisterous and loud. At least a few times a day, they launched themselves at you out of nowhere. At work. At the grocery store. At dinner with Cole and his parents. Nowhere was safe. Everywhere you went, things reminded you of Bucky. Of your favorite person. Of the person to whom you were not engaged.

The desperate pining for him tore your still-healing wounds wide open. Every time your gaze landed on your engagement ring, every time a friend mentioned your impending wedding, a sharp pain sliced through your chest. And each time, you were forced to acknowledge the fact that you were not, in fact, getting married to Bucky.

“Um, anyway…” you cleared your throat, “Of course, I’m inviting Bucky. And the subject isn’t open for debate, by the way. It’s my party and I’ll invite who I want to.”

You grabbed an invitation and a blank envelope from the stacks in front of Nat and positioned them in front of you. If Nat didn’t want you inviting Bucky, there was a more than significant chance that she’d conveniently “forget” to address an invite for him. And so, you scrawled his name and address onto an envelope and affixed a stamp in the corner. Come hell or high water, he was going to get his invitation. Even if he didn’t want to come.

The night of the party arrived sooner than you expected. Sooner than you’d hoped.

The house was abuzz with people running in and out, carrying food and linens and liquor; you knew you’d be requiring the latter in order to survive the night. Florists arrived to cover the house in perfect, beautiful blooms. A team of caterers brought with them enough fine food to feed an army. And a flawless, two-tiered cake with delicate lacy piping sat on the dining room table, complete with yours and Cole’s initials. All of it was perfect. Picturesque, really. It was exactly what you wanted- but Cole wasn’t who you wanted it with.

Every few minutes, you checked your phone in search of a text from Bucky. The deadline to RSVP had come and gone almost two weeks ago, and he never gave you an answer one way or another. He ignored your “hey, are you coming to my party?” texts, and your “just wanted to know if you plan on coming to the party” voicemails. He ignored almost all of your correspondence, actually.

Lately, he’d only been answering about a third of your texts and a quarter of your calls. It was unlike him. It was unheard of, really. On multiple occasions in the past, he answered your calls while taking heavy fire; you could actually hear the bullets whizzing by on his end of the line. But now, things were quiet. And you forced yourself to accept that fact that he was not coming to your party.

The festivities kicked off around seven-thirty, and you found your house full to the brim with party goers. All of Cole’s friends showed up. His childhood friends, his college buddies, his old soccer team- they all arrived with bells on. And your friends were well represented, too. High school pals, your book club, a close coworker or two. They were all so excited to see you, so happy that you found someone.

Even Bucky’s teammates made an appearance. They were his friends first, of course, but growing close with him meant growing close to them. And you’d build unbreakable bonds with Sam, Nat, Wanda, and Maria. They were thrilled for you and more than happy to attend your party- even if Bucky wouldn’t be there.

With your house so full, so jam-packed with friends, you thought you wouldn’t notice the pain of Bucky’s absence. But you did. Of course, you did. And you found yourself feeling painfully alone in a sea of people.

Without Bucky there, the night seemed to fall flat. The flowers lost their vibrance. The food was bland. And the music sounded disjointed and off-tempo. Things just weren’t the same.

People swarmed you every few seconds, hollering their congratulations and asking to see the ring again. They asked you about venues and dresses, bridesmaids and center pieces. Everyone meant well- you knew they did. But as the throngs of people refused to relent with their questions about table linens, your chest began to tighten. A hard, concrete cast wrapped itself around your lungs, preventing them from expanding. A suffocating lack of oxygen rendered your dizzy. It was all too much. The people and the music and the impending nuptials. Even the sensation Cole’s hand on your waist was too much, too tight, too smothering.

With a whispered “be right back”, you moved swiftly through the crowd and escaped out the front door. If you could just get some space, some quiet, some oxygen, you’d be fine.

The door provided you with much needed support as you tilted and teetered on unsteady feet. The panic, the alcohol, the high heels- it all combined to form a dizzying, possibly lethal combination. But at least you were outside. As least you were free. The cool night air prickled at your skin, and finally, your lungs filled to capacity. A few deep inhales cleared the fog from your mind. With closed eyes, you tipped your head back against the door and let yourself enjoy the quiet. Sure, the music from your playlist leaked into the night air, but this was the closest thing to silence you’d experienced all night. And you were not going to complain.

As your heartbeat slowed, you told yourself it would be okay. That everything was going to be fine. That you’d figure out how to handle the situation. And, if only for a moment, you actually believed your fabrications. A sense of peace wrapped around you like a blanket, and a welcome calm settled into your bones.

But the creak of a porch step yanked your eyes open.

And there you found Bucky, frozen on the second to last stair, with giftbox in hand. He eyed you as though he were a prey animal, wondering if you’d seen him, waiting for his chance to escape. But it was too late; he’d been caught.

“Buck?”

He forced a smile, “Hey.”

“Hi!” you launched yourself at him, wrapping your arms around his neck with an intensity that would’ve injured a mere mortal. He reeled back a few paces as your momentum knocked into him. “I’m so glad you’re here! didn’t think you were coming!”

His arms draped loosely- weakly- behind your back. It wasn’t much- but it was better than no Bucky at all. And after he failed to respond to your messages, didn’t answer your calls, and made himself scarce over the last few months, you’d take whatever you could get.

“Right. Yeah. Well, technically, I’m not-” He untangled himself from your arms and pointed at the perfectly wrapped giftbox. “I just wanted to drop off your present.”

“Oh, thanks. That’s-” Dismay dripped from your words, “Wait, you’re not staying?”

Bucky gave a shake of his head. He avoided your eyeline and chose, instead, to look at anything other than you. The grass. The porch light. His own shoes. “I can’t, sorry.”

It crushed you. Having him stop by for only a moment was far worse than him not showing up at all. Because now, you had to deal with the loss. The pain of his departure. For him to grant you the warmth of his presence, only to snatch it away moments later was almost cruel. How could he leave when you were finally seeing the world in color? How could he go when the music finally made sense with him by your side?

You didn’t want to beg. Didn’t want to make him feel bad. Didn’t want to seem pathetic. But the words slipped out of your mouth before you could stop yourself. “You can’t stay for even a little while?”

The disappointment in your voice broke his heart. And he had half a mind to forget his plan and allow you to escort him inside. But he stood firm. “I would,” he shoved his hands into his pockets. “But I have to go pick up a friend from the airport.”

The words hit you in a strange place. A pin-prick pain nipped at your chest- you’d caught him in a lie. “Buck, no offense, but all your friends are inside.” You gestured toward the house with a nod of your head. It was true- all of Bucky’s closest friends were dancing the night away in your living room. And he was caught red handed.

“Right…” His teeth dug into the smooth flesh of his cheek; his eyes roamed the yard. He should’ve known better than to use such a lame excuse- he did know better. He couldn’t casually lie around you; you knew him too well. But the pressure got to him, and forced cracks into his cool, marble surface. He hadn’t even expected to see you tonight, let alone talk to you. The painful awkwardness of the moment ate through him like acid.

“So… you can stay?” Your words came out too desperate, too expectant. But you couldn’t help it. You’d do anything to get him to hang around- even if he didn’t seem excited about it. Hell, you’d beg him on your knees if that’s what it took. Anything to get him to stay.

“Uh, yeah,” he shrugged. “I guess I can.”

Finally, he let his eyes land on you. After choosing to avert his gaze for so long, he wasn’t strong enough to do so any longer. He had to look at you, to take in every detail of your face. But as he drank you in slowly, inch by inch, in the light of the full moon, a strange solemnity sunk its teeth into him. Perfectly imperfect curls framed your face. A flawless diamond sat at the hollow of your throat. You were even wearing his favorite lipstick of yours- the one he said made you look like a vintage Hollywood star. He eyed your delicate, lacy white dress. Your white strappy heels with bows on the ties. Your white nails. And the perfect, glistening diamond adorning the ring finger of your left hand.

Everything about you was so beautiful. So bridal. It made his chest tight.

“You look really nice,” he said, almost bashful. “Beautiful.”

“I, um- thanks. Thank you.”

This stupid white dress. With its stupid lace and its stupid pearls and its stupid bridal flare. You hated it. Resented it. Wanted to take scissors to its seams. But if you were to play the role of Cole’s blushing bride, you had to dress the part, didn’t you? You had to don your fiancée costume and take part in the production.

But, regardless of your feelings about the outfit, your heart still flared at Bucky’s compliment. One simple word of praise from him had such a startling, intense effect on you. And suddenly, you were in high school again. He filled you with a sense of giddy adoration that you hadn’t experienced since the tenth grade. This was the stuff of love notes stuffed into lockers. Of first kisses under the bleachers. But your feelings for him could never be as fleeting or as shallow as those of your youth. No, this was the stuff of forever.

“Hello?” Bucky gave you a wave. “You okay?”

An awkward laugh escaped your chest, “Yeah. Sorry, I kinda spaced out there for a second. Did you say something?”

“I said, what are you doing outside?” He eyed the packed house. Twinkling lights shone through the windows. Crowds of people danced and drank champagne. Music wafted through the air. “Shouldn’t you be in there? At the party? Cause, you know, it’s for you.”

Just the thought of going back to the party made your stomach turn. Part of you wondered if you might be able to hide outside all night; just stay in the yard until the festivities came to a close. Hell, maybe you could even run away. You could get pretty far if you started walking and didn’t look back. By the time the party ended, you could be deep in the heart of Brooklyn- you could be at Bucky’s.

“Yeah, no, I probably- I should be inside. But, I’m just…” you took in a sharp breath. It hitched in your windpipe and got stuck for a moment. “I got a little overwhelmed, you know? With the noise, and the people and the… everything. So, I came out here to-” To hide. To escape. To flee. “To get some air.”

Bucky could’ve sworn he sensed something lurking beneath your calm surface. It was the slightest change in your voice, the smallest twitch of your brow. He clocked the way your hands never stilled. The way your teeth dug into the inside of your cheek. Something was off.

He sat in the long silence, waiting for you to open the vault and show him your secrets. But the lock remained secure. You didn’t say anything else, didn’t hint at the source of your discontent. He eyed your manufactured smile, but couldn’t seem to crack it.

Things never used to be this way. He didn’t keep secrets from you, and you wouldn’t dream of hiding anything from him- there was no reason to. Neither of you had to fear judgement or ridicule from the other. Your most embarrassing stories, Bucky’s darkest thoughts- they were all safe with the other.

But an unfamiliar disconnect had pulled the two of you apart. And Bucky could no longer read your soul like a book.

“Everything’s okay, though. Right?” He eyed you with suspicion. With concern.

You nodded- maybe too fervently. “Yeah. For sure,” a fake smile stretched across your face, “Just stressed, I guess.”

“And he treats you right?” It was one of the things Bucky worried about most. Sure, the house was nice. And the ring was huge. But did Cole speak to you with kindness? Did he show you empathy and understanding? Did he make you feel safe?

“Yes.”

Bucky breathed a small sigh of relief. Knowing that Cole handled you with care brought a sliver of ease to his worried mind. “So, you’re happy then?”

It was all Bucky ever wanted for you. A safe life, a happy life. But the answer wasn’t yes or no. This was the farthest thing from a black and white situation. On more than one occasion, you told yourself to just be happy. You thought that if you willed it, if you said it with conviction- then it would be true. And the happiness you were supposed to feel around your fiancé would magically spring up around you. But it didn’t. Every day, you waited. Every day, you told yourself to just be fucking happy. Cole gave you everything. He was nice and agreeable and provided you with the resources to do anything you’d ever wanted. But the happiness never came. At one point, you decided you’d settle for contentment. But that too evaded you.

“Um, do you wanna sit?” It was the best subject change you could come up with on such short notice. “The porch is free. Come on.”

Before Bucky could respond, he found your fingers linked with his. Chills traveled up his arm, over his shoulder, and across his scalp. Even the most innocent of your touches sent his dopamine levels through the roof. He’d never experienced ecstasy like this ever before- and knew he never would again. Especially not after your wedding.

He knew it was selfish to feel anything less than happy for you. You were engaged, you were getting married- this was what you wanted. You wanted marriage. A lifelong partner. A “till death do us part” kind of relationship. And now, you finally had it. So, who was Bucky to ruin it for you? Who was he to hope that you’d leave Cole at the altar? He forbade himself from ever being that selfish. If he was truly your closest friend, he had to be happy for you- even if it meant that he could never be anything more than your friend.

With his hand in yours, you led Bucky to the porch. And regardless of the brand-new patio furniture Cole’s parents gifted you, you and Bucky opted to sit on the steps. Crickets chirped every now and again. A cool breeze wafted through the trees, rattling the leaves. Voices and music and the clatter of dishes seeped through the windows. You didn’t notice any of it.

Because, finally, you had what you wanted- if only for a moment.

It was the simplest, most innocent desire you’d ever had. To sit on the front steps with Bucky. To share a home with him. To drink coffee next to him on the porch each morning. To watch the rain from safety of your porch swing with Bucky’s head in your lap.

If you ignored the white dress and the engagement ring and the pop of champagne bottles, you could almost believe that this was Bucky’s house, too. That the two of you could go inside and retire to bed. That you could wake up in the morning, wrapped in his arms. You could almost believe it. Almost.

The two of you sat in silence, planning your words carefully. Conversation felt like a mine field, and one misstep could send either of you to your death. But the warmth radiating off Bucky’s his body wrapped you in a familiar comfort. The narrow steps didn’t provide much in the way of sitting room, forcing Bucky to sit almost shoulder to shoulder with you- not that he’d ever complain.

With every gust of wind, he caught a whiff of your perfume- the perfume he loved so much. The scent that often clung to his hair and weaved itself into the fabric of his clothes. It mixed with the smell of early spring- crisp air and new blooms. And he felt himself losing his resolve. He did his best to put distance between the two of you, to protect his heart and yours. But as you leaned your body against his and rested your head on his shoulder. He wondered why the fuck he’d ever leave your side.

You, too, lost all strength. And suddenly, you didn’t care about misspeaking.

“I miss you, Buck…” Present tense. Because, even with him next to you, you missed him. Missed the way things used to be. “I feel like I never see you anymore.”

Bucky nodded. “Yeah, I know. I’m sorry. I’ve been so busy with work, and trying to prove myself…” He let out a heavy sigh. Of course, regardless of his intentional distance from you, work really was killing him. “Everyone at SWORD is paranoid- they’re convinced that there’s a secret faction of Hydra growing within their organization.”

“Hmm, that’s so weird. I wonder why they’d be worried about that.” You gave bucky a nudge, and pulled a laugh- your favorite laugh- from his chest.

“Yeah, yeah,” he shot you an eye roll. “But you’re probably really busy, too. With all the wedding planning.”

His mention of the wedding shattered your perfect, maladaptive daydreams. All the noise from the party once again filled your consciousness. And the weight of Cole’s engagement ring felt like an anchor, dragging you down to the deepest, loneliest sea. Bucky wished he hadn’t brought it up as you removed your head from his shoulder.

“Oh, yeah, no. It’s been-” you felt yourself closing off a bit, and did your best to fight it. “I haven’t actually planned a single thing. At all. So.”

Bucky gave you a strange look. It wasn’t like you to put things off, to procrastinate. He knew you to be an organized, ahead of the curve type of person. You were always the one who had a plan, always the one who over-prepared. He figured that in the few months since your engagement, you’d have planned at least a few things- if not the entire wedding and honeymoon.

“Do you have a date at least?” He pulled out his phone, “I want to put it in my calendar.”

Bucky would be there to support you no matter what, even if watching you marry another man killed him.

“Um, no, there’s no date yet,” you said. “Cole’s parents belong to a really fancy country club and said we could get married there- it’s beautiful. All I have to do is contact the club’s event coordinator and figure out which days are available. I just-” you dropped your eyes to the ground, “I haven’t yet.”

Bucky didn’t like your downcast gaze or your uncertain voice. There was something eating at you- he’d bet his life on it. Maybe you were just overwhelmed. Maybe you felt like you were behind on all the decisions that needed to be made. Either way, he wanted to help.

He threw you a shrug. “Well, there’s no rush, is there?”

He took your left hand in both of his and gave it squeeze, but regretted the gesture when your engagement ring dug into his palm. You were getting married to someone else; he had to stop touching you like this. Had to stop treating you like you were still on the market. He didn’t want to make you uncomfortable or disrespect your relationship. And so, he dug his hands into his pockets.

“I mean some people don’t start planning right away, right?” He said, “They wanna take their time and enjoy the engagement for a while, and-

“I’m not.”

“You’re not what?”

“Enjoying my engagement.” You had half a mind to take off the ring and launch it into the street. You’d dreamed about doing so every day, actually. Dreamed of throwing it on the subway tracks. Or dropping it through a grate on the street.

Alarm ran through Bucky’s system like wildfire. “Is everything okay? Is it-”

Finally, you lifted your eyes and met Bucky’s stare.

“I don’t want to marry him.”

Bucky felt his brain short circuit. He forgot how to breathe, how to speak. His thoughts tangled themselves together in tight, writhing knots. Words bounced off the walls of his skull without meaning. This wasn’t what he’d expected you to say.

“Um, why-” he cleared his throat, “why not?”

He cringed at his own question. Maybe it wasn’t his business. Maybe you didn’t want to get into the details. But you were upset. And if there was any chance at all that you’d want to vent or use Bucky as a sounding board, he was going to listen.

But there was nothing for him to listen to. For a long time, you didn’t answer. Because to you, the answer was stupid. To you, it sounded like bullshit. Like you’d wasted Cole’s time and love and money. Like you were some noncommittal, unsure child. You rolled your eyes at yourself- as you had every day since Cole’s proposal.

“I just don’t- I don’t love him,” you finally said. “I’m not in love with him. I mean, don’t get me wrong, he’s great. He’s a really nice person…” And he was. He was kind. He was understanding. He was thoughtful. But he wasn’t the one- he wasn’t Bucky. “He hasn’t done anything wrong. And he’s given me- he’s given me everything. But, I just don’t love him like I-”

You stopped yourself. The words that danced on the tip of your tongue were too risky, too dangerous. You wrangled them before they had the chance to escape- before they had the chance to push Bucky away- and locked them behind bars.

But they screamed inside your mind. ‘I don’t love him like I love you’ echoed again and again, reverberating every few seconds. Part of you feared Bucky might hear it.

“Um, I don’t love him like-” you rerouted, “Like I always imagined. You know? I don’t feel the way I thought I would.”

Bucky considered your words for a long time. Unlike you, he didn’t think it was bullshit. Or stupid. Or childish. He set his feelings for you aside, not allowing them to cloud his judgement, and thought about your predicament.

“Well, you don’t have to, you know,” he finally said. “Marry him, I mean.”

You gave him a subtle nod. Maybe he was right. But a larger problem- a more important problem- loomed. And while you’d spent the past few months hemming and hawing about marrying Cole, there was another issue at hand that ate you alive every single day.

“Why have you been avoiding me, Buck?” It wasn’t angry. It wasn’t accusatory. You just needed to know.

For the third time that night, Bucky found himself caught red-handed. “What?”

“Ever since I got engaged, you’ve been avoiding me.”

The hurt in your voice was unmistakable. And though Bucky knew it was truth, his first instinct was to refute. To deny. To deflect.

“No, I haven’t. I’m not avoiding you,” he said, putting on an air of offense. “I’ve been busy with work and-”

“Don’t give me that.” Your heartbreak dissolved into cold, hard facts. Facts that Bucky couldn’t refute. “I used to see you almost every day. No matter how busy either of us got, we still saw each other all the time. We made time for each other. But ever since Cole proposed, you don’t answer my texts anymore. You don’t respond to my voicemails. I mean, I’ve only seen you-” The realization was startling. You knew Bucky had been distant, but as you quickly flipped through your memories of the past few months, you confirmed just how detached he’d been. “I’ve seen you twice. Including tonight.”

Bucky’s silence bit through your flesh.

Part of you didn’t want to ask. Didn’t want to know. But the question left your lips before you could stop it. “Buck, are you mad at me?”

He shook his head. “No, why would I be?”

“Because Cole proposed, and I said yes.”

A look of bewilderment yanked Bucky’s features upward. Emotions flashed across his face at lightning speed. A scoff barked out of his throat.

“No. No, I’m not-” He was caught off guard. Struggling to cover his tracks. “I’m not mad. It’s not like that. I’m just-”

“What’s it like, then?” You stared at him, expectant.

“Oh, come on…” It was all too much. He couldn’t be in such close proximity to you anymore. Couldn’t have you almost pressed against his side.

He fled from his seat on the stairs and opted to stand in the grass. He paced for a beat or two, wearing down the fresh blades of greenery. And when he finally came to a stopping point, he couldn’t face you. Couldn’t look you in the eye. He just needed a moment. Needed some space. Needed to breathe air that didn’t wear your perfume. And when he cleared his mind- and his lungs- he turned to you.

“You know…” he let out a huff. “You know that things haven’t always been exactly platonic between us. You know that I’ve had- that I’m-” His metal fingers ran through his hair, “Anyway, I’m just… I’m trying to deal with this whole thing. I guess I’m not doing a good job.”

It wasn’t news to you. But it still struck you like lightning.

Things between you and Bucky always teetered on the edge of romance. Always walked a tightrope between friendship and love. And while you adored a good “will they, won’t they” type of relationship on tv, it didn’t have the same charm in real life. The Nick and Jess, Sam and Diane, Janine and Gregory dynamic brought you only pain. Confusion. Heartache. Unfortunately for you, there wasn’t a room full of talented writers scripting your every interaction with Bucky. The two of you didn’t have a well thought out, perfectly planned arc that placed you in a relationship by the end of your third season as friends. No, the two of you were left to your own devices, navigating the difficult terrain without help.

Part of you always believed that you and Bucky would end up together. Maybe it was the Ben and Leslie of it all. Or maybe it was your hopeless romantic side. But you truly thought things would work out for the two of you. The ring on your finger, however, said otherwise.

A wave of remorse washed over you. You rested your elbows on your knees and dropped your chin into your hands. “We just never got the timing right…”

Bucky furrowed his brow, “What do you mean?”

“Our feelings for each other were always out of sync,” you lamented. “They ebbed and flowed over the years- just with opposite timing. When you had feelings for me, I was dating someone. When I had feelings for you, you were in love with another woman. It was just…” you cursed fate and destiny and everything in between. “It was bad fucking timing.

A sharp edge rose in Bucky’s voice, “You think that’s what happened?”

You nodded, “Um… yeah. Yes.”

“You’re wrong.” He was steadfast. Resolute. He wanted to argue with you, wanted to prove you wrong.

“What do you mean?”

“My feelings never ebbed- whether I was dating someone or not, those feelings never went away,” he said. There was a desperation in his voice. A longing you hadn’t heard before. “And they still haven’t. They’ve never gone away or even faded a little bit. I know you had fleeting feelings for me at one time or another, but mine weren’t temporary.”

It was bullshit- it had to be. Right? His “feelings” for you never seemed so concrete, so permanent. They weren’t even feelings; if anything they were more like passing flirtations. Momentary affections that dissolved every time a beautiful woman walked by.

You let out a scoff, “Tell that to all of your girlfriends-”

“I only dated other people because I was losing my fucking mind.” His voice rose an octave or so and he cut his eyes toward the house, watching for a sign that someone had heard him. “Every time you started seeing someone new, it was like I couldn’t breathe. So, I needed something- someone- to be a distraction. And I know that’s a dick move. But-”

You weren’t proud of it, but you were familiar with Bucky’s coping mechanism. With his tactics for surviving every new boyfriend of yours. “I did the same thing.”

“What?” He didn’t believe you- not even for a second. Your engagement ring wouldn’t allow him to.

“Buck, I’ve had feelings for you since we became friends. It was pretty much immediate after meeting you. And they weren’t ‘fleeting’- or whatever you said.” The word actually offended you. “They’ve never ebbed.”

You caught a glimpse of your engagement ring in your periphery and instantly dropped your hand into your lap, hiding the ring from your view- and Bucky’s. “I only dated other people because I didn’t think anything could actually happenbetween us.”

Bucky’s chest tightened. He instantly mourned the lost time, the years he could’ve spent with your lips on his. Of course, the friendship you shared was never a waste. And he’d never trade the years you spent as confidantes. But he couldn’t stop himself from thinking about how different things could’ve been. How much mutual pain could’ve been avoided.

He took a step away from you, too confused and upset to be in your orbit. “And you never told me any of this?”

Your brow furrowed; your lips stretched into a thin, frustrated line. “You have got to be fucking kidding me.”

“What?”

With fury smoldering in your chest, you rose from your seat on the porch steps. Anger glistened behind your eyes and hurt coated your words. “I told you! I bared my fucking soul to you!”

The puzzle pieces came together for Bucky. He let his head tip back a bit and covered his face with his hands. He let out a deep groan that only added to your rage. He didn’t have to ask- he already knew what you were referencing. But the part of him that wanted a fight egged you on. “Oh my god, are you talking about that night at the bar?”

“Of course I am!” you spat. “I told you everything- I confessed everything! I told you I loved you and that I wanted to be with you. I told you I was in love with you. And you just brushed it off!”

Bucky grimaced, “I know...”

He wandered a bit farther, putting a few more paces between your body and his. He knew he was wrong. Knew he fucked up. Every time he thought about what you said at the bar, and the way he reacted, he grew nauseous.

“But I didn’t think it was real.” Another wave of desperation sent his voice booming through the yard, “I didn’t know you actually meant it! And I didn’t think I should hold you to something you said after six margaritas.”

He had a point. He had good reason not to believe a drunken confession. But you gave a fervent shake of your head; it wasn’t his actions that night that hurt you, it was everything that followed.

“But you didn’t even acknowledge it!” The words echoed down your street. You wondered if your neighbors had gathered around their windows, watching yours and Bucky’s drama unfold like a soap opera. “You could’ve asked me about it the next day or-”

The pain in your voice cut Bucky deep. His tone was softer now, his voice a little quieter. He knew he should’ve handled things differently. Knew you deserved better. “Well, you never brought it up either…”

“I tried to!” A rogue tear dripped down your cheek. You wiped it away in a hurry, hoping Bucky hadn’t seen it- though you knew he had. “But you told me ‘not to worry about it’ and then you walked away. And that was it.”

Bucky watched as a few more tears gathered in the corners of your eyes. He wanted to wipe them away with the sleeve of his shirt. To offer you a hug. But he couldn’t- he was certain you’d swat him away. Regret sat in his stomach, weighing him down like lead.

“Do you know how embarrassing that was for me? I told you how I felt, and you pretended like it never even happened,” your voice wavered ever so slightly. “And when I tried to talk to you about it, you waved me off. I was so humiliated- I didn’t want to say anything else.”

The weeks that followed your drunken- but true- confession were some of the most miserable times of your life. Bucky simply carried on like normal, inviting you over for movies and pizza and wine. And you didn’t have it in you to pull away. To put some distance between the two of you. To take the time you needed to lick your wounds. And if you were honest with yourself, you didn’t want to stray from his side. Didn’t want to retreat. Because being around him was better than being without him, even if the rejection left you broken and bruised.

“After that,” you shrugged, “I thought you didn’t want anything more than friendship with me.”

“But I-” Bucky shook his head; you were wrong- you were so wrong. He’d always wanted more, always wanted you. “I’ve always loved you…”

“How was I supposed to know that? I mean, your string of girlfriends says otherwise.” You thought back on the litany- on the catalogue- of beautiful women Bucky paraded around. “And I know I dated other people, too. But you had so many. And you were so- you gushed about those women. You flaunted them. You talked about them nonstop.”

Bucky knew it was true. He brought his girlfriends to every event, every team dinner, every casual hang. The one time, the one place he deemed too sacred for the presence of his rotating cast of lovers, however, was the one-on-one time you shared. He never dreamed of allowing them to tag along when it was just supposed to be the two of you- that was one line he’d never cross. He did spend a significant amount of time talking about them, though. He went on and on about his many, many forays into the dating world. And truth be told, you had trouble keeping track of all the names.

Because, while you’d had a few boyfriends here and there, Bucky dated enough women to field a soccer team. Or two.

But you weren’t mad at him for it. You didn’t hate him for seeking companionship. You just couldn’t believe that he had real, legitimate feelings for you while simultaneously telling you that he planned to propose to Isabella. Or Nadia. Or Violet.

“Honestly, you made it seem like you wanted to marry every one of them,” you told him. “The way you talked about them- it was like you were so in love. So, I didn’t think…” The whole situation was too messy. Too confusing. “I didn’t think it was possible for you to have real feelings for me. I thought you were a flirt. And a ladies’ man. And I thought you only showed me affection when you were bored between lovers.”

Bucky thought back on all the girlfriends. All the hook ups. All the times he left a one-night stand and ended up at your apartment after. He hated it- but you were right. He may have flirted with you; he may have showed you fleeting affection. And maybe he made a joke or two about growing old with you- but he never made a declarative statement. He never confessed his true and undying love for you. Never made the effort to take your friendship to the next level.

Only you’d been brave enough to do that. And he’d paid you dust.

“And I mean, you made it very clear that you didn’t want to talk about my feelings for you,” you said. A flood of familiar embarrassment rose around your ankles. You found yourself struggling to wade through it, just as you had after Bucky brushed you off. “So, I just… I found Cole. And I stayed with him- I stayed long enough that he asked me to marry him. And I knew you didn’t want me, so… I said yes.”

Bucky couldn’t imagine a reality in which he didn’t want you. “I’m so-” he slid a hand over his mouth. He let his head drop a bit.

The weight of your words- of the truth- almost forced him to his knees. He’d only ever known longing, wanting, yearning- for you. And he always told himself you didn’t see him that way. But knowing now that you’d felt the same, that your confession was real and true, didn’t assuage the hurt. He couldn’t believe that he brushed you off. That he didn’t take the time and summon the courage to ask you about what you said at the bar.

But he’d been too scared. Too scared he’d ruin your friendship. Too scared he’d make you uncomfortable. Too scared that your drunk words were just that- drunk words with no meaning.

As your point of view stood next to his, the puzzle pieces aligned. And the two of you finally got a look at the full picture. It was a picture of mutual love, mutual longing, mutual heartache. A picture of two best friends who couldn’t find it in them to have a serious- sober- conversation about their feelings for fear of ruining a good thing.

“I’m sorry,” Bucky finally said. “I didn’t know you were serious at the bar. I didn’t mean to hurt you- I never want to hurt you.” He swiped his sleeve across his face, mopping up a stray tear that threatened to run down his cheek. “And I really didn’t mean to push you into the arms of another man. I just... I didn’t know you meant it.”

A tired sigh deflated your chest, “I meant it.”

Bucky wasn’t sure what to say. Or how to handle the situation. He hated that things got so muddled. Hated that you felt so hurt. Hated that he hadn’t just been honest. The two of you were so close, so comfortable together, he never thought things could get this messed up. This disastrous. But he supposed it was par for the course. After the way his life had played out, why would he think that something as important as falling in love would be easy?

“So, it seems like we’re…” Bucky frowned, “terrible at this.”

“Yeah,” a dark laugh escaped your chest. “I guess we’re both stupid.”

Bucky nodded. If there’d been one- just one- honest conversation between the two of you, none of this would’ve happened. There’d be no Cole. No hurt feelings. No argument in the yard. All this time, you could’ve been sleeping next to Bucky each night. You could’ve shared a home with him. Kissed him good morning each time the sun rose. And the engagement ring- albeit a smaller one- resting on your finger would’ve been from Bucky.

But it was too late now, wasn’t it? There was too much pain, too much hurt. And you were very much so engaged. Hell, you and Bucky were standing in the front yard of the house you shared with your soon-to-be husband. But Bucky had to ask, didn’t he? He had to dig deeper, to find the truth.

And after he’d failed to acknowledge your truth last time, he wasn’t going to do it again.

Knots twisted around in his stomach. His lungs failed to expand all the way. But he needed to know. “Do you still-

“Yes.” You didn’t hesitate. Didn’t leave even a sliver of room for doubt. “I still love you.”

Bucky said nothing. He simply drank in the words. Replayed them in his mind. Relished in the sound of your voice- sober and steady- saying that you loved him. It was all he’d ever wanted.

But his silence pushed you to the precipice.

“So, um,” your hands shook. “What about you? Are you-”

Bucky almost laughed. “Oh, come on. Of course, I do- of course, I love you. What kind of question is that?” He shot you a wink.

There it was- his truth laid out before you. And to think, you’d dreaded this night for weeks. Dreaded celebrating your engagement to Cole. Dreaded answering questions about your impending wedding. And now, the love you’d hoped for, the love you’d always wanted, laid perfectly spelled out for you in the grass. Somehow, the party celebrating your engagement to another man provided the perfect venue for Bucky to bare his soul.

And while the two of you relished in the others’ words of love, uncertainty still filled the air. Bucky stood firm on his side of the lawn, and you yours. This wasn’t a perfectly scripted episode of sitcom, there weren’t people telling you what to say. What to do next. Your shared predicament was messy and awkward. And though you didn’t have a director telling you how to act, you knew your neighbors were entertained.

“So, what do we…” Bucky shoved his hands into his pockets. “What do we do now? You’re supposed to marry someone else. Your house is full of people celebrating your engagement. And-”

He didn’t get to finish his sentence.

You pursued him across the lawn, stalking toward him until your lips crushed his. Instantly, his hands found your waist and pulled you tighter. Your hands slid up his chest, over his shoulders, and buried themselves in his hair. The chill in the air fell away. The noise of the party evaporated. Nothing existed outside of this moment, this kiss. Bucky snaked his arms around your back, encircling you completely. He wasn’t going to let you slip away. Not again.

But an errant sound from inside the house made a grab for his attention. And suddenly, the stark reality of the situation hit him like a train.

He pulled away ever so slightly, only allowing a few millimeters between his lips and yours. His gaze landed on the packed house, “Someone might see us-”

“I don’t care.” You gave his hair a gentle tug and closed the gap between you. Now that you’d finally tasted his lips, you didn’t want to spend a moment without them. Ever.

And while Bucky wanted only this- only you- for the rest of his life, his anxiety needled at him as it always did. He did his best to swat his worries away and devote his focus to you and only you, but he couldn’t fight it. He had to tell you, had to clarify.

Again, he pulled away.

“But you know I can’t- I can’t give you the things he can give you. You know that right?” He searched your face for any hint of realization. Any flicker of regret. “I mean, the big diamond ring, and the fancy wedding, and the house. I don’t want you to be disappointed, I don’t want you to-”

And again, you cut him off. Your mouth melted against his, hell bent on consuming him right then and there.

“Buck, I don’t want any of that,” you finally said when you came up for air. “I want you. That’s it.”

And there it was- Bucky’s confirmation that you wanted him for him. That you didn’t care about his small, shabby apartment. Or his lack of funds. That you loved him for who he was, not what he could gift you.

“And honestly, all the fancy stuff isn’t really my vibe,” you shrugged. “I mean, I’m not really the type to play tennis at the country club. And I don’t use ‘summer’ as a verb.”

Bucky’s laughed boomed through the yard. It cut through the noise and chatter of the party and made you feel more at home than you ever did in this godforsaken house.

“So, do you want to make a run for it?” Bucky asked between long, deep kisses. “If we go now, I don’t think they’ll catch us.”

It was enticing. The thought of absconding with Bucky set you alight from the inside out. All you could think about was spending the night in his bed, wearing his clothes as pajamas, and then ditching them entirely for a night of passionate debauchery.

But there would be plenty of time for the two of you to make your escape- after you carried out the plan forming on the outskirts of your mind.

“I say, we run- but not quite yet,” you told him. “I think you give me a few minutes inside so I can snag a couple bottles of champagne and some of that fancy whiskey Cole’s dad brought by. And then we jump in the getaway car and run like hell. How does that sound?”

How could Bucky possibly say no to that? He watched with bated breath as you snuck back into the house and hoped to god that no one noticed your return.

And his prayers were answered. Everyone was so drunk, so distracted by the music and the lights, that they didn’t even glance in your direction.

A quick trip to your room allowed you the opportunity to rid yourself of Cole’s ring. Sure, it was beautiful. And sure, Cole was a nice guy. But you didn’t want it, didn’t want to be shackled to him for the rest of your life. You slid the ring from your finger and instantly felt the weight of the world fall from your shoulders. It was the most instantaneous relief you’d ever felt- aside from kissing Bucky for the first time. You tucked the ring safely into the drawer of your nightstand and told yourself you’d return it to Cole tomorrow.

Tonight, you had more pressing matters to attend to. You snaked down the hall to the kitchen, undetected by the raucous partygoers. And without drawing any attention to yourself, you snaked two bottles of champagne out of their ice bath and tucked a nice vintage whiskey under your arm. If you and Bucky were going to celebrate, you were going to do it in style.

With the alcohol safely cradled in your arms, you made a mad dash for the front door. But just as you turned the handle, the sensation of someone watching you gave you pause. Slowly, you turned around, fearing that you’d find Cole’s confused, heartbroken gaze staring back at you. Instead, it was Nat who’d caught you in the act.

She gave you a wicked smile and mouthed “I told you so” from across the room. And with a sweeping gesture, she urged you to “go, go, go!” She didn’t have to tell you twice. Quick as a flash, you escaped out the door and sprinted down the porch steps.

Bucky paced up and down the front walk, waiting for your return. Part of him feared that you might not return from your trip inside. Maybe you’d change your mind about the whole thing. Maybe you’d decide to stay with Cole. But the way you tore down the front steps and launched yourself into his arms quieted his anxieties.

He took your face in his hands and captured your lips with his. “You got the goods?”

Your laugh vibrated against Bucky’s lips, “I don’t know about you, but I think stolen champagne tastes better.”

"That's my girl."

Bucky snaked an arm around your back and ushered you across the yard, out the front gate, and across the street to his car. He stole the booze from your grasp and placed the bottles gently in the back seat. And once he ensured that the alcohol you worked so hard to pilfer would make it home safe, he turned his attention to you.

His hands slid over your hips and traced up your spine, sending goosebumps over your skin. His mouth met yours in a kiss full of love and desperation. Longing and need. This was what you’d always wanted. What you’d begged the universe for. What you’d cried and agonized over. And now it was yours- Bucky was yours.

He pulled away only a fraction of an inch, “You ready to go, baby?”

“Get me outta here, Buck.”

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

@beefybuckrrito @shadytalementality @everything-burns-down @rainbow-unicorn-pony @mandersshow @breakablebarnes @psychoticmason @glxwingrxse @lonewolf471 @dreamerglassesgirl @the-gods-gloted-but-they-burned @purpleshallot @seitmai @itvy5601 @dailyreverie @navs-bhat @eviesaurusrex @themorningsunshine @evangeliameryll @buckys-metal-arm @broadwaybabe18 @the-kestrels-feather @avocadotoastwithegg @goldylions @lokisasgardianvampirequeen @vrittivsanghavi @idkitsem @avengetheunnatural @rassvetsky @hereforbuckyandsteve @barnesselo @juvellian @samanthacookieone @frombkjar @blackbirdsinatrenchcoat @anything-more-than-human

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k0juki · 4 months

Note

pls some joost fluff (cuddling n maybe some making out??) headcanons bitte bitte🙏

🥴 danke danke for request!

Cuddles

Joost Klein x fem!reader

English is not my first language so feel free to point out any mistakes or errors! More posts here.

A/n: I wrote it a bit different, hope you won't mind much!🙏

Warnings: bit suggestive and making out, so be aware!

Wc: 736

---

Okay, so Lazy Mornings would probably look like this.

Joost loves to sleep in on any day, but what he loves more is when he wakes up to find you still cuddled up beside him, he wouldn't have it any other way.

He'd pull you even closer, wrapping his arms around you protectively, and nuzzle his face into your hair, content to stay tangled up in bed with you for as long as possible.

"Good morning to you too, Joost." You said with a small smile and felt him tighten his hold on you from behind.

"Morning." He whispered and kissed your neck. "I didn't want to wake you up."

"It's alright. I have to get up anyway." You answered and turned in his hold.

"Not possible, you're staying here, with me." He spoke and as he was about to kiss you, you turned your head to the side and said. "No, no, no, I will give you a kiss after we brush teeth."

---

Post-Eurovision Comfort would be absolutely necessary and nobody can tell me otherwise.

After a particularly tough last few days at Eurovision, Joost would come home exhausted.

You'd meet him at the door with a warm hug, leading him to the couch where you'd lay his head in your lap and gently massage his shoulders and back.

"It's gonna be alright Joost, it will be alright." You would softly whisper to him.

He'd close his eyes, letting out a contented sigh as he relaxes into your touch, grateful for your soothing presence.

"Thank you love."

---

Movie Nights are a must.

You and Joost have a tradition of having cozy movie nights at home. He'd make a big bowl of popcorn, and you'd snuggle up together under a blanket on the couch.

As the movie plays, Joost would absentmindedly run his fingers through your hair, occasionally pressing a soft kiss to your forehead.

"I know what you're trying to do Joost. It won't work." You warned him, clearly knowing what he was up to.

"I'm not doing anything love, you're just paranoid." He chuckled and threw himself at you, pinning you down on the couch.

He started kissing you as you put your hands on his shoulders and then to his hair, lightly tugging on it. Joost moaned to your mouth.

He suddenly pulled away and said. "If you're going to tease me like this, then it's not my fault. It's yours."

"No, it was you who started kissing me. It's your fault." You moaned, feeling him kiss your jaw and then neck.

"That sounds fair."

---

Unexpected Cuddles are like:

Whether you're cooking dinner together or just lounging around the house, Joost loves to surprise you with sudden cuddle attacks.

He'd sneak up behind you and wrap his arms around your waist, pressing his chest against your back as he peppers your neck with gentle kisses, making you giggle and squirm.

"It tickles!" You gasped and then you started to laugh, trying to pull away, but he didn't budge.

Now, that he was fully pressed against your back, he turned you around, so you were face to face. He bent down and took your thighs and pulled you up at the counter as you wrapped your arms around his neck for support.

"You realize I'm cooking, right?" You asked him, feeling all hot from sudden friction. Looking into his eyes, you see the hunger behind them.

You bit your lips and pulled him closer to yours lips kissing him with passion, but still soft enough.

"Who's the clingy one now." He laughed against your lips, kissing them again.

"Shut up."

"Make me."

---

Rainy Day Cuddles:

When it's pouring rain outside, Joost would suggest building a blanket fort in the living room.

And guess what? You agreed, because it is fucking good idea.

You'd gather up all the blankets and pillows you could find, creating a cozy nest for the two of you to hide away from the storm.

"It's cozy here." You whispered to him as you laid on his chest. He had his arm around you and his other was in your hair, gently playing with it.

"Yeah, it is." He quietly said and kissed the top of your head.

Inside the fort, you'd cuddle up together, listening to the sound of the rain on the roof and he was sharing stories with you until you both fell asleep in each other's arms.

---

Don't copy or translate my work! Also the picture is not mine! Credit goes to owner!

#joost klein x fem!reader #joost klein x you #justice for joost #joostice #joost klein x reader #joost klein #x reader #k0juki's stuff 🩷#x female!reader #europa #europe #eurovision #imagines #fanfic #blurb

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ktkat99 · 1 year

Text

The Wayne kids have been kidnapped so often that they have a rating list of which rouges are the better kidnappers.

Steph- Everyone thinks Two-Face is a criminal genius, but he spent so much time fighting with himself that I was able to walk right out the door

Damian- Cobblepot is my personal favorite. Sometimes I let myself be taken just so I can return the favor with his henchbirds. I've nearly amassed my own flock. How he hasn't noticed yet is beyond me.

Tim- Riddler likes to watch the people trying to get me back fight with his riddles, so I'm usually locked up in a quiet, dark cell. Alone. For hours. It's great. He sometimes gives me blankets and pillows and I'm able to make a little fort and just sleep.

Dick, holding up his hand- Harley gave me a manicure and we hate watched reality shows until Ivy came home and made her release me

#batman #tim drake #dick grayson #red robin #nightwing #batfam #robin #damian wayne #spoiler #stephanie brown #batfam incorrect quotes #batfamily #joker ranks dead last #0/10 do not recommend

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irndad · 4 months

Note

hii dollface, would u write smtg abt hotch being jealous?

like he's trying to hide it from making the team notices when he saw some officer flirting with r?

no pressure in writing, lovey. change it however u want or ignore it if u dont feel like writing it (i completely understands u 🤍)

my love this has lived in my brain so relentlessly <3 i hope you love it!!!! thank you for requesting!! wc: 1.7k

It is incredibly easy to like her.

She’s charismatic in a way that’s almost universally appealing, and he’s memorized the shape of her wide grin. She smiles with her whole face, and Aaron hasn’t really spent too much time trying to make people smile. He’s had success in some ways, but when she smiles at him there’s something in his chest that burns in achingly lovely way.

At first, he had assumed her kindness was a way to win him over. In her first week, she had noticed there was a rip in his tie (which he’s not sure how could even happen) and she’d whipped out a pocket sewing kit, repairing it.

He tries not to think about the fact that she’s beautiful. She is, though, in spirit and in appearance. He’s an expert in controlled presentation, but to some extent she must know that’s he’s fond of her.

When they’d first met (which he can still picture in his minds’ eye- her oversized sweater tucked into her tailored pants, the purple lipstick adorning her beautiful smile) he’d tried to keep his distance. It’s easy to romanticize her, and being her friend felt a little impossible when seeing her as more felt so inevitable.

This plan did not go well, and Aaron had officially tossed it when one day, the babysitter for Jack fell through when he was halfway around the world. She’d picked him up from school and tended to him, and Aaron had come home to a blanket fort on his kitchen floor, and a happy little boy who wanted her to come over every day.

So it's a little hard to ignore how much he adores her.

She doesn’t normally want to come out to the scene and they usually don’t require it, but they’re going out to a place she spent most of her twenties, and she knew people in the local PD, so Aaron had asked her to come.

She’d done so without complaint, although he knows she doesn’t sleep well on the jet. No one knows where the nicer pillows and blankets came from, and Aaron would prefer it that way.

Anyway.

The bullpen of this department is chaotic and a certain caretaking is living at the edge of Aaron’s consciousness, a protective desire to keep her from the loudness and violence that she’s typically protected from.

He’s still thinking this, when he hears her voice over the chaotic hum of the department.

“Oh my god, Logan!”

Her voice is joyful, and when Aaron turns to see who she’s looking at, it’s an agent. He can tell that he’s not a police officer for many reasons- the fact that he’s got a long, shaggy haircut and a 5 o clock shadow and a leather jacket on his shoulders. The local police would be too strict, and he must be some kind of different authority to be allowed to be here.

He hears the stranger call her name back, and they hug.

It’s a quick thing, but imbued with deep fondness. Aaron’s not sure he’s ever hugged her for more than a second- just a congratulations when his commendation came in. She’d smelled like roses.

Now, she’s hugging Logan.

“Hotch,” she says, a smile still in her voice, “This is Logan! We went to graduate school together. He’s brilliant, I can’t believe he’s down here.”

Her voice is seeped in admiration, and Aaron feels an ugly amount of what can only be described as jealousy.

“Great to meet you. You’re the unit chief, yeah?”

“SSA Aaron Hotchner,” he offers the man a curt nod, “Have you met the team?”

He goes through the motions of introducing him to the team- he greets Reid with a warm smile and tells him that he’s read his papers. Logan compliments Emily’s shirt, and Morgan’s watch.

He’s incredibly charismatic.

Is Aaron charismatic? He doesn’t think so. His team, who probably adore him as much as anyone could, still note that he can be harsh, prickly. He never smiles, he knows. He lacks expressiveness. Logan is all fluid movement and easy conversation, and when he takes the jacket off, Aaron sees a great deal of tattoos on his forearm, his sweater sleeves slid up.

He’d smile for her.

What should be a good thing, but hurts- Logan is an excellent consultant profiler. He’s thoughtful and helpful and she has an easy rapport with him. Aaron- he’s so bad at talking to women.

She makes Aaron feel like he’s good at it though. When they drive together, the conversation is easy and feels nice. It’s like sunbathing, basking in the light of her attention and intention.

With the help of the man that Aaron has decided he hates, the case is finished up quickly.

He can’t shake the thought they’ve probably dated. It’s not his business- this crush, although this word feels inadequate for the intensity of the way she makes him feel. It’s a private thing he’s never going to act on- he’s older and her superior, and besides- 9 stab wounds and a lifetime worth of issues is a million times less appealing than someone like Logan. Young, exuberant probably not too afraid to ask for what he wants.

“Drink tonight?” Logan asks the team, and a chorus of yes’s and please’s echo through the emptying bullpen.

“Raincheck,” she says to Logan, “I’ll see you next time I’m in town, yeah?” She beams at him, hugging him in a quick-but-too-long-for-Aaron’s-taste motion, and the string in Aaron’s chest that feels like it’s been pulled all week threatens to pull him under.

After everyone files out, she offers to help him fill out paperwork in his office. It’s just like her, so kind and sweet. Spending her free time filling out reports to make his workload go easier.

About a half hour of amenable silence passes, before Aaron chooses to speak.

“So, you and Logan.”

“He’s great, right?”

Regrettably, Aaron agrees.

“He seems very kind.”

“Yeah, he and his fiancee are really fun. They travel all over, kite-board and do tons of adventure stuff, he’s pretty awesome.”

A moment passes.

It’s like a balloon losing air, the feeling of relief taking the place of panic.

“I thought you two were romantically involved.” He doesn’t know how to verbalize things casually. If he lets it up, he might do something dangerous like tell her that he wants to be someone who romances her, wants to be the person who kisses her after dates and holds an umbrella over her head when she’s caught in the rain. He wants to be what she comes homes to, and it’s a confession living in the back of his throat, threatening to escape at every moment.

She sucks in a harsh breath, and he wonders if it’s a misstep to have told her- it’s not a confession, really. It sounds like one though- why would he care? What makes it his business?

“Not that that’s relevant to me,” he stammers, “You’re free to engage with whoever you’d like-“

“I know, Hotch.” She doesn’t grace him with his first name, but her voice is fond and warm, her doe eyes meeting his. He likes it, he decides.

“I’m not seeing him,” she continues, her body shifting to face him, “I think he’s a little…casual for me.”

He thinks of Logan’s leather jacket and unshaven face, rugged appearance and compares it to how he presents himself- clean cut and sharp lines, his suits tailed to fit him like a glove.

“You prefer something a little more…dignified?” He hears himself say with more confidence then he feels- her implication is clear, but he wonders if he’s mishearing it.

She tips her head back and he hears her lovely laugh ring through the air like something sacred, and he waits to hear her response.

“I don’t know, I just know that I’ve been liking this guy for a while,” she muses, looking down at her fingernails, “But he hasn’t seemed to pick up on any of my hints.”

On one of his braver days, he’d told her that he liked that purple lipstick. He hasn’t seen her without it since. She’d always been so kind to everyone that it was hard to notice when her treatment towards him was special, but he thinks it might be. How quick she offers to help with Jack- gives away a Saturday evening to spend with him, even though she sees too much of his face at work.

Her friend from grad school offered to get drinks, and she’s here, telling him what she looks for in a guy.

He tries to be logical about the whole thing, but it’s a bit hard- she’s funny and warm and Aaron loves being around her- loves her company enough to maybe ask for more of it.

“If this ‘guy’ did like you,” he murmurs, intentionally not meeting her gaze, the precision of which is boring a hole into the side of his head, “How would he go about that?”

He’s not sure what the point of being coy is now, but he can’t seem to stop. He does look down to her and meet her eyes.

“I think I’d probably corner him,” she says breathlessly. They’re quite close together, now. He wonders if she likes his aftershave. She tugs a hundred through her hair, a nervous but incredibly attractive gesture, “Y’know, if everyone we worked with went to get drinks, and it was just us. If he was amenable to that.”

“If he was amenable to that.”

A rush of emotion licks up his spine- it’s fun, flirting with her. The creep of warmth on her cheek, how her fingers are brushing hers.

“I think he might be.”

Purple lipstick, rose perfume mixing with the scent of expensive aftershave- he thinks he might be able to kiss her, now. He’s never been good at knowing when to take the jump, but this is something he can do. He can let her know that he wants it.

She reads him well enough, it turns out, and she kisses him. It’s a surprise and he is so rusty at this and yet- his hand stand on the small of her back, pulling her in and he can feel her lovely smile against him. She’s warm and joyful and she’d kissed him, and all he could do was lean in-

“I think he might be too.” She says, significantly less color on her lips, and more on his, he imagines.

She doesn’t have to wonder, though. When Aaron kisses her again, he decides- he will make her incredibly certain of his affections.

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avocado-writing · 1 month

Note

Oh maybe dp+w poly with sick reader? Nothing too angsty but I love the idea of having those two as your nurses when you’re out of commission for a few days 😭

You simply cannot stop shivering. It’s been racking your body like this for hours. It feels like your fucking skeleton is trying to escape, your teeth chattering in a way which would be almost comical if it didn’t fucking suck.

This morning you didn’t wake up feeling great, and your boys noticed. Logan can always smell when something is wrong, which Wade never tires of mocking him over (“what is it girl? Is there trouble at the old mill?” “Fuck off, Wilson.”) so when you had a slight temperature change, he was immediately at your side, rough hand on your forehead.

“You okay, bub?” voice quiet. Intimate. Concerned. You’d waved him away.

“Yeah, I’ll get some OJ and take it easy. Probably a seasonal thing, don’t even worry about it.”

Wade had cocked his head to the side. “If you’re not well, pookie, we can stay here. We can go and kill people any day. We only get one of you.”

But you knew they’d been trying to make a habit of sorting out local crime, proving they were good guys (you knew they were. They just needed to show it to themselves, it seemed) so you’d waved them off.

That had been a mistake. As soon as they walk in, stinking of blood and exhausted to the bone, a dual look of horror crosses their faces.

“Ah, fuck,” mutters Logan. He’s by your side at an instant, sliding his hands under your blanket in order to lift you into his lap. Fuck, he’s like a hot water bottle - you immediately snuggle into his chest to feel the warmth. “Baby, we shouldn’t have left you.”

Wade closes in, moving a finger side to side so that you follow it with your eyes. “Are you okay, sweetheart? How many handsome men do you see?”

“Two,” you chuckle, and Wade makes a show of tutting.

“Well you’re wrong there. Let’s be honest, only one of us is likely to win PEOPLE’s sexiest man alive award again, honey.”

You’re not sure what he means but he makes you smile, anyway.

“Wade, you’re handsome.”

“And you’re sick. I’m gonna go and get you some chicken soup, then we’re gonna sit here and watch that absolutely terrible show you like all night,” he announces, reaching over to give you a kiss on the forehead. “Haha, ew. Sweaty. I still love you though. Hold down the fort, peanut.” He reaches over to kiss Logan on the forehead too, who is remarkably accepting of it.

“Love you.” You hum as he peels off his suit and grabs some sweatpants, before moving your head to look up at Logan. “Love you too.”

Logan mutters it back, his lips buried into your crown, like he can will you better with the force of his affection.

Maybe, between them, they just might.

Taglist: @falsewordz @malfoys-demigod @belilwen @mildly-salted @tvwebs @childeslegstrap @getmeoutofhell @s1eep-o @just-a-beatlemaniac69 @yrthr @momopad @sugarplumz100 @captainjinkx @madspads @acrosstheunivcrse @yeethaw13 @na-is-salty @florduarte @hunterispunk @starfleetteddybear

#my writing #james logan howlett x reader #logan howlett x reader #logan x reader #wolverine x reader #x men x reader #logan howlett imagine #marvel x reader #marvel imagine #marvel fanfiction #mcu fanfiction #mcu imagine #wolverine fanfiction #mcu fandom #Deadpool x reader #wade wilson x reader

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apomaro-mellow · 1 year

Text

Steve let out the greatest sigh he'd ever heaved. "I can't believe I have to fuck him."

Robin's head whipped to him so fast like he just said he was gonna jump off a building. "You don't have to."

"No I'm gonna", Steve said, eyes not leaving Eddie. He was biting his thumb like he couldn't wait to get alone with him.

Robin looked back at Eddie, who was filling up his plate with things from the picnic table. "I don't see it."

"Because you're a lesbian."

"With taste. And standards. I mean what exactly has got you twirling your hair right now?"

"I mean look at him!"

Eddie had a plate in one hand that already had an open burger on it. The fingers of his other hand danced like they were trilling a piano as he was deciding on what to put on the plate next. He grabbed some chips on the side and then placed the plate down to figure out what he condiment he wanted.

Eddie put his hand on his chin like it was the utmost important decision. Then he grabbed the mayo and the mustard in one hand and squeezed them in a swirl.

"You gonna kiss him with must-ayo breath?", Robin snickered.

"I wish I was that burger", Steve said as he watched Eddie sink his teeth into it. Steve bit his lip while Eddie was licking som stray sauce off his fingers and Robin felt uncomfortable.

"Um, do you, Eddie, and the burger want some privacy."

If Steve was being honest, he didn't fully trust himself to be alone in a room with just Eddie and whatever he was currently feasting on.

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

Eddie wasn't drunk. He wasn't even buzzed. No this particular evening, he was simply loopy on lack of sleep. He'd meant to go to bed, honest. But an idea popped into his mind and things kept adding in a delicious stew of inspiration and he just stayed up all night.

When Steve heard that, he nearly cursed him out for driving like that to his house.

"We were supposed to meet today, Steeeeve."

"It could've waited."

"Hmm, one doesn't make the king wait."

Eddie collapsed onto his couch and Steve thought he might conk out right away, but he was valiantly staying awake. Steve sat next to him and thought he might wait to see just in case Eddie fell asleep in the next 15 seconds.

Instead, Eddie reached out slowly with his pointer finger and booped Steve's nose. "It's so pointy", he said in a croaky voice. "Bet the girls loved that."

Steve snorted. "What?"

"When you ate 'em out."

"Dude!", Steve laughed. Eddie was always pretty candid, but this was another brand.

Then Eddie began to draw circles on Steve's face with his finger, all while drawing out that croaky sound before saying "Phooone hoooome."

Steve giggled and Robin finally spoke up from the loveseat.

"Yeah, I'm still here. But you know, movie night can wait or whatever."

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

Steve's hands were in his face as he sat on the edge of his bed. Robin was patting his back reassuringly.

"There, there."

"It's just... Robin you should've seen him."

"I've seen him, babe."

"Not like this he was just-he was so into it!"

Steve had gone to pick up Eddie from the Wheeler's. He figured he'd find the other either with Mike, or maybe even Nancy. But no. Eddie had been in the backyard, in the middle of a very intense game of pretend with Holly. It had taken Steve everything not to strip and beg Eddie to give him his own babies.

"Have I...always been this much of a slut?", Steve asked.

Robin thought for a second before answering. "Yyyeah. But also, you've always been a goofball. Now that I think about it, you and Nancy had kinda an opposites attract thing. But maybe you don't need to opposite. You need someone as silly as you."

"Steve!", Eddie nearly crashed through his door. "We're making a blanket fort downstairs, you in?"

Steve rubbed his face and looked to Robin, admitting defeat with his eyes and then looked to Eddie. "Yeah. I really do."

#apo writes #stranger things #steddie #platonic stobin #steve is in the closet about his goofiness #and nothing else #robin has to tell him yeah yall are made for each other #ur both clowns

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mikeandikeschmidt · 11 months

Text

Once Upon a Time

Mike Schmidt x babysitter!f!reader

Word Count: 1864

Summary: Like all other imagines go, ever since Mike hired you as Abby’s babysitter, you’ve made their life so much more fun. Today’s fun? Playing fairy tales with Abby. Mike thinks it’s hilarious until he’s suddenly brought into production…

• • •

There was a satisfying ‘click’ when Mike turned the key. With one little shove, the door was open and he could breathe again. Another rough shift at work, but he was so grateful to be home. Where he could relax and just unwind…

And then he heard giggling. And he had the sinking feeling this was not going to be an “unwind” kind of day. What kind of mischief was Abby getting into now? Although, he much preferred hearing her laughter over the silence he used to get. Ever since he hired that new babysitter, Abby’s brightened up a lot. So, despite the drowsy drooping over his shoulders, he smiled as he shut the door behind him.

“Hey, I’m home!” He called out.

“We’re in here!” Your voice replied, making his smile twitch just a bit wider without him meaning to. You were such a saint. After what happened with the last babysitter, he thought he wouldn’t find another half as good, but you surpassed any and all expectation. Once he got the ball rolling better with work, he’d pay you. Soon.

“What on earth…” Mike’s voice trailed off when he saw what was going on in Abby’s room.

Lights were strung about, a great big fort connected to the ceiling and strung down like a canopy. With the use of cardboard, paper, and markers, the fort was surrounded by fake towers and what he assumed was a moat. And under the strung-up blankets were two familiar faces with paper crowns.

“We’re playing fairy tales,” You quickly explained, feeling the urge to take off the crown. You hadn’t felt self-conscious when it was just you and Abby, but when a cute guy looks at you? That’s a whole different thing. The embarrassment only worsened when you saw him stifle a laugh. Crap, what could he be thinking right now?

If only you knew that he thought you both made the cutest sight he'd ever seen.

"If we're going to do Snow White, we need an apple." Abby turned to you, refusing to let Mike ruin your fun together. She was not done playing. In fact, seeing the two of you looking at each other gave her a little idea...

"I'll go get the apple." You stepped over the cardboard towers and paper moat to head to the kitchen, "I'll be in the kitchen."

"Right behind ya," Mike added as he shrugged off his jacket.

You quickly took the crown off and set it down before going to the counter. You rummaged through the bowl of fruit, going past bananas and pears to find what you wanted.

Mike pulled out a Gatorade from the fridge, "Heh, thanks again for this. You have no idea what a difference you've made to Abby."

"Oh it's nothing. She's a lot of fun." You reassured him.

"I promise I'll pay you as soon as my check comes in, this isn't going to be the usual. You know, if, uh, you still want to continue this. I get it if you don't. You're not obligated to keep coming..." He was rambling now. He hadn't gotten like this since high school. Sheesh, what was going on with him? He reached up and adjusted his shirt's collar. It was getting warm in here all of a sudden.

"Mike, stop. You're completely fine. I'm happy to be here. After all, what are neighbors for?"

He shrugged. He'd just gotten so used to you being here, so quick. You fit right in. Looking back on it, the house used to feel so empty. Abby used to go to her room and just draw by herself. Mike would go to bed early or watch a couple shows on TV. Now, there was so much light and laughter brought in. He barely recognized his life anymore. He really hoped this was a sign for better days.

"Ah! Here we are, a classic red apple. I better not keep the princess waiting." You teased and started heading back to Abby's room, with a little skip in your step. But to your surprise, upon entering in, you saw Abby wearing her darkest purple blanket over her head like a cloak.

"I don't remember Snow wearing anything that dark."

"I'm not going to be Snow, you are." Abby told you and hurried to take the apple from you, "I got to be the princess the last two times. It's your turn."

You hadn't realized you were taking turns but okay.

"Where is your crown?" Abby squinted at you and made a face, "Mikeee! (Y/n) needs her crownnn!"

"Where is it?" He hollered from the other room.

"I left it on the counter!" You rose your voice, trying not to laugh. What has your life become? You felt like a Mom or something. And hey, you kind of liked it. Even though this wasn't your blood family or anything, you'd gotten real close with Mike and Abby. You just felt so comfortable with them.

Mike came back and briefly held up the crown, "Alright, where's the princess?"

Your face reddened and you sheepishly held up your hand, "Here."

He nodded and strolled over, briefly standing on his tip-toes to set it dramatically over your head, earning giggles from his sister. But just before he went to leave, Abby grabbed his arm and pulled him back.

"Don't go yet, I want you to watch!"

"Watch?" You echoed and your heart dropped to your stomach. Yeah, you were doing this for the kid, but you felt so shy playing pretend in front of Mike.

"Oh, alright, I'd be happy to watch." To your horror, Mike plopped down into the chair by Abby's desk and folded his arms. A big smile on his face.

Your eye twitched at the cocky little gesture. Oh, he was loving this, wasn't he? You didn't know if that was better or worse. But you tried to put it out of your mind when Abby got into character. She came up in her makeshift cloak,

"The evil witch approaches and knocks on Snow White's door..." Abby narrated before knocking on one of the blankets, pretending there was a thudding sound.

You stepped inside the fort then immediately poked your head out, forcing your gaze on Abby instead of Mike's amused face in the corner, "Hello?"

"Hello, young lady..." Abby ironically croaked, despite being many years younger than you, "I am giving out free apples. Would you like one?"

You heard muffled laughter again. Well, you weren't going to let him get to you. If he was going to pay you someday, you were going to earn every penny. He wanted a performance? Alright, here we go.

"Oh, how lovely! Of course!" You reached for it and held it to your mouth before taking a big bite.

"Muahaha! My plan is all coming together!" Abby rubbed her hands together and burst into a fit of mischievous giggles—that sounded a little too convincing for half a second.

"Oh no! I feel strange!" You held a hand to your head then spun around before making a dramatic 'fall' back onto the floor, bending your knees at the right second so the impact wouldn't be so bad. Besides, there were so many scattered pillows around, it wasn't harsh at all.

"Oh, bravo! Great job." Mike chuckled and clapped before starting to get up from his seat.

"Hey! The story isn't over!" Abby pointed a finger at him, "This part is important! I need your help!"

"Wait, what?"

"Snow White needs a handsome prince to wake her up." Abby explained and took off the cloak. She reached to the side for the crown she had made for herself, and handed it to Mike, "Your turn."

You had been pretending to be asleep but now your eyes were wide open. You started to sit up, "Oh, Abby, that's not necessary--"

Ohh it suddenly wasn’t so funny anymore. Was it, Mike? “Yeah, I'm really not an actor. You guys have fun, I'll just prepare dinner..."

But Abby wasn’t having it. She pointed to you first, “No! You! Lay back down! And you! Prince!”

Mike blinked down at his sister, but…apparently he didn’t have the strength to turn her down. He sighed and put the crown on his head. You honestly couldn’t believe it.

You slowly lowered back to the ground and closed your eyes. Not like you weren’t kind of hoping for a kiss from Mike one of these days, but you couldn’t say this is the way you expected to have your first one.

It certainly wasn’t the way Mike planned it, either. He had expected he’d finally get up the courage to ask you on a date. After he’d gotten around to paying you and proved he was in a better situation. But as soon as Abby found out of his crush on you, she had to push this to go a little quicker. He just had to hope he didn’t die of embarrassment in the process.

Abby took off her cloak and let out a gasp, “Oh no! My friend, Snow White is hurt! Help! Help! Prince Charming, come help!”

Mike sighed and walked over, “What’s wrong?”

“The princess has been poisoned! She needs true love’s kiss to wake her up!” Abby held her hands together and looked up at him with expectation.

“Abby, you really don’t expect me to—“ But the look she gave him told him she was serious. Was this really happening? Why didn’t he have the courage to tell her no?

He got down on his knees and looked over your features. He couldn’t tell but you were just as panicked about this. Your heart was pounding like crazy. What was he going to do? Maybe he’d kiss your forehead or your cheek. Something light just to say he did it. But no. When Mike lowered himself near to you, you were surprised by the touch of his lips. The soft scratch of his stubble. His breath was warm on your skin and made your heart flutter. This wasn’t the way you both had planned it, but it was a beautiful first kiss together.

Of course you both didn’t go crazy, Abby was right there, but it was a lingering kiss. Soft and sweet. Mike was surprisingly gentle. But just before you both could get used to it…

“Yay! The princess is saved!” Abby threw up her hands and giggled.

You both broke apart and nervously chuckled at the same time. You decided to speak first before it got awkward.

“Thank you so much for saving me!”

“Of course.” Mike dutifully bowed his head like a prince would, briefly licking his lips.

“Now the prince carries Snow White off into happily ever after!” Abby beamed.

“Heh, alright. Right this way, princess.” Mike gently scooped you up into his arms and rose to his feet with no issue. Wow, he was strong…

“Off to happily ever after?” You giggled and wrapped your arms around his neck.

“Off to the spaghetti and meatballs I’m making for dinner.” He replied.

You held a hand to your chest and laughed heartily, “Oh, my hero!”

The end.

#mike schmidt fnaf #mike schmidt fanfiction #mike schmidt #josh hutcherson #fnaf fanfiction #mike schmidt imagine #Mike schmidt one-shot #mike and Abby Schmidt #mike schmidt fluff #Mike schmidt x reader #mike schmidt x you #mike schmidt x y/n

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deepdisireslonging · 5 months

Text

Cake or Cookies

A good round of sexy texting during girls’ night leads to sexy personal time when Bucky gets home.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x curvy!Reader

Warnings/Promises: food mention, descriptions of injuries (canon-level), dirty talk, sexting, SMUT, oral (both receiving), implied further smut

Word Count: 3080

Note: They can pry the Avenger Apartment/Tower from my cold dead hands. Everything’s fine, everyone is fine; what trauma? Why can’t we have nice things? I went hunting through some of my lost prompts and found a couple to squeeze together. Happy reading!

Girls’ night in the Tower was bound to be dangerous. It was usually when Natasha came up with the next round of pranks to play on the boys. And when Wanda took it upon herself to create the best pillow fort to watch movies in. Her magic made it easy to pile the couch pillows and blankets into what looked more like a cozy cave than a fort. And Maria kept track of where to find any films not already stored in Stark’s library.

You were in charge of snacks. Drinks were cozy only: tea, hot chocolate, and coffee. Alcohol parties were for other nights. Snacks ranged anywhere from home-made chips to hors d'oeuvres (fancy and simply indulgent), to the smorgasbord of mass produced favorite snacks you raided from the corner bodega. But you were stumped when it came to tonight’s desserts. The bodega’s sweet treats were present, cheap candy and the like, but you were stuck between the roll of cookie dough and a box mix for cupcakes.

Stumped, you didn’t acknowledge the warm body that ghosted up behind you until a hand slid across your waist. “It’s girls’ night. What are you still doing here?” Sitting down the treats, you turned in Bucky’s arms and scratched your fingers into the hair at the nape of his neck.

He lightly kissed your forehead. “Needed a break from Tony. Can you blame me?”

“Not at all.”

You both inhaled deeply, cheek to cheek. The last mission had been a rough one. Most of the team had come back banged up. And you still had a nasty scrape of road burn up one leg. Which is why you were wearing the equivalent of biker shorts. Pepper had gotten them for you sometime after the social media trend of those leggings ladies liked to tease their S.O’s with. They were surprisingly supportive of your form. You usually wore them underneath your gear because they were borderline indecent. But, with one of Bucky’s oversized shirts covering your figure, nobody had commented.

Except for Bucky as he slid his hands down your body to rest over the curve of your ass.

“I thought these stayed out of sight?”

You teased a glance up at him. “Usually, yes. But It’s girls’ night. We all wear the equivalent of our pajamas since you boys will be out. You are all going out, right?”

He nodded. “Yes. Eventually.” But he didn’t move. He hugged you closer, brazenly tilting your head to one side with his nose so he could kiss the underside of your jaw.

“Y/L/N!” Natasha waved from the living room. “Are we ready to go, or what?”

A smile spread across your face. You lightly pushed Bucky away, making him whine. Natasha was already starting the voting poll for the evening’s movies when you turned back to the counter. “I’ve got to bake before the party starts. Do you have a preference for what sweets you’d like to be left over? Cookies or cupcakes?”

Bucky pressed up behind you, resting his large hands on the counter on either side of you, and griding his front into your ass. “Cookies. There’s enough cake in this kitchen already.” He slapped your ass, following with both his hands taking tight squeezes of your flesh.

As you gasped, he rushed out. The wink he shot you from the door warned you that the tease would not be the evening’s last.

Fifteen minutes later, the cookies were out, the movie was in, and everyone was settled into their favorite pile of pillows.

Five minutes into the movie, the texting started.

Lover Boy <3: “How’s the movie?”

You rolled your eyes as you turned your phone on silent. If Okoye heard your phone again, you’d never get it back. “We’re watching Magic Mike. So… It’s going well.” You added a smiley face with its tongue sticking out for good measure.

Bucky’s messages popped up every few minutes. You kept your phone screen towards you to see the notification light up your screen without bothering the other women.

Lover Boy <3: “Should I be jealous?”

You: “Nah. Their gyrating doesn’t do it for me.”

Lover Boy <3: “Good to know.”

Lover Boy <3: “Is there anything in the movie that does ‘do’ it for you?”

You smothered a chuckle into your blanket. Each passing second that you took to come up with a teasing reply was surly wreaking havoc on your man.

You: “Maybe. Who wants to know?”

His reply was slow in coming. When it did, you almost fumbled your phone into the floor.

Lover Boy <3: *image incoming*

The picture you received was of Bucky’s hand resting on the top of his thigh. They were out to dinner somewhere, the edge of the table blocking your photo view from the rest of the guys. In the curve between his forefinger and thumb, his bulge was the center of attention. You stuck a sucker in your mouth to cover up your gasp. But the other ladies were too busy hooting for the first dance scene to notice.

You: “Just him? I must be slipping. Especially since I thought you really liked my shorts earlier.”

Lover Boy <3: “I like those shorts because I like taking them off. Girls night got in the way.”

You: “You’ve got to come home sometime.”

Lover Boy <3: “Then what do you have in mind?”

You turned off the flash for your camera and waited for the TV screen to illuminate your face. Sucker holding down your tongue, you sneaked the pic. Before any of the girls could see and tease you. While it sent, you sucked on the round sugar treat. You imagined Bucky’s cockhead on your tongue, as you knew he would too. His reply came in seconds.

Lover Boy <3: “Minx”

You: “And?”

Lover Boy <3: “When I do get home, I’m going to taste something sweeter. All night long.”

Lover Boy <3: “If you can handle it.”

Biting your lip, you smiled into your blanket.

You: “We both know what I can handle. But can you handle what I want to do to you?”

You: “Bet I can blow you so good you forget how to speak Russian before morning.”

You: “Actually, bet I can make you forget all your languages.”

Lover Boy <3: “An official bet?”

Now it was dangerous territory. Neither of you would wager anything that would show in public. Or bring attention from the team inside the tower. But Bucky’s winnings had a steep cost on your ability to walk the next day. Yours usually meant him taking a few days off to spend time together in some distant cabin.

You: “Do we have time to disappear to the Rockies when I win?”

Lover Boy <3: “We just finished a mission. I’m sure I can convince Steve to leave us alone… at least for several nights in a row when I win.”

It was on.

He played dirty by escaping to the bathroom to shoot you a picture of his cock. It was already thick for you, proud and flushed in his palm.

You also escaped. But the picture you sent didn’t require you to take your clothes off. All you did was tug down the front of his borrowed shirt, and splay your fingers wide between your breasts.

You: “Can’t wait to squeeze you between these.”

Lover Boy <3: “9hey now…”

Good. His texting was already stumbling.

You: *picture incoming*

All you did was rest your hand over your throat. But Bucky’s reply of a bunch of scrambled letters made you laugh. You returned to the movie.

You: “Can’t wait for you to get home. But we’ve got about 3 more hours of movies to watch. Think you can last that long?”

Lover Boy <3: “If I have to. Might have to take care of myself before then.”

Wanda looked over as you squirmed in your seat.

You: “You can’t wait for me? I’ll wait for you.”

When the movie lit up enough, you took a picture of the pillow between your thighs.

Lover Boy <3: “Promise?”

You: “Say please.”

His reply, despite the distance between text and actually hearing his voice, dripped with promise. You bit your lip, hearing his growl in your head.

Lover Boy <3: “Since when do get to make the demands around here?”

Lover Boy <3: “Please.”

You: “Since I’m home. Away from the consequences of mouthing off at you till later.”

Lover Boy <3: “You’re not sharing this conversation with the ladies are you? You’re not usually this… sassy.”

You: “This sass is rated E for everyone. But, no. This conversation is just between us.”

You: “I have to stop texting. Natasha is beginning to notice.”

Lover Boy <3: “Until I get my hands on you:”

It was several minutes until you checked your phone, waiting for the others to drop their questioning looks. When you did, you had to smother your moan. He sent one last picture of his tongue out between his fingers. A promise of delectable problems to come.

***

Somebody texted the guys when the movies were almost over. They arrived halfway through you girls cleaning up.

“How was the double feature?” Tony asked. He snagged a remaining hors d'oeuvres off the tray before Maria could stick it in the fridge.

You didn’t hear the reply. All you could focus on was how lust-blown Bucky’s eyes were as he stared you down from the other side of the room. You pressed your thighs together. If the way your chest heaved was any indication, you were in for a long night. Steve barely gave you a glance when you walked past him. Bucky gliding past made him give your departure a second look.

The hallway to your room was dark. The lights that illuminated the floor wouldn’t engage fully unless there was an emergency. Which meant that your shadow was faded against the wall. And it was fractured into several clusters of shadows at reach installation. You didn’t look back. It was part of the game. You couldn’t hear him, but sometimes you could have sworn your shadows had an extra layer.

When you reached for your door handle, another hand beat you to it. Bucky pressed up behind you, pushing you into the room and pinning you to the inside of the door as he locked it. He slid his knee between your legs. Fascinated, he enjoyed the show as you slid the apex of your thighs across the muscle he gave you. He stopped your movements with a hand on your hip, while the other lifted your wrists above your head.

“Did you actually wait, or was that a tease?” He reached into your shorts, groaning to find your slick there. While you trembled, he loudly sucked his middle finger into his mouth. “Oh, ангел, I am going to ruin you. For teasing me like you did.”

“You – you started it. Technically.”

He brought one of your hands down to rest over the front of his pants. “Maybe. But you laid down the gauntlet. How do you want to do this?”

With a grin, you wriggled out of his grasp. You walked backwards towards your bed. Bucky stalked slowly after you. Turning, you ran your hands down your sides, to your hips. And back to the curve of your ass. “Cake?” You smoothed your hands up from your rear to your breasts. “Or cookies?”

Bucky groaned. “The whole damn bakery if I can get my hands on it.” He guided you onto the bed, crawling over you in a way that stole your breath. When you tried to roll him onto his back to begin the challenge, he chuckled. “Nuh-uh. Challenger goes second.”

“But-“

He silenced you with a kiss. As he deepened it, hands kneading into your flesh and removing your clothes, your rebuttal died on your tongue. He barely pulled back enough to remove his own clothes. It wasn’t long before he was working his mouth down your body, kissing and sucking and nipping at your skin until he made it to your sex.

Sometimes part of the challenge included a timer. Like that one gala when he dared you steal away with him during Tony’s speech, and cum before the ending round of applause. With his head buried under your dress, he won with enough time to participate in the applause for a speech you didn’t give a damn about. You didn’t find out till later that Steve had kept track of when you two disappeared and reappeared. Bucky wrote the time on your bathroom mirror as the time to beat. It had yet to be broken.

Tonight wasn’t one of those times. There was all the time in the world. All night to edge or overstimulate each other to your hearts’ content.

Breathing warm air over your sex, his grin between your thighs sent a ripple of goosebumps over your skin. You weren’t sure which was more disarming: his knowledge of your body and its sweet spots that he could make you cum in minutes, or that same knowledge used to bliss you out over hours till you couldn’t remember more than screaming his name. With his tongue, he began the challenge. As if you weren’t soaked already, he made a mess of you. Curling his fingers through your folds. Delving his tongue deep in search of the ability to taste you for days. When he scraped his teeth across your clit, the electricity tightened your fingers in his hair.

He wasn’t drawing this out. A man on a mission, Bucky was doing everything he could to bring you to the brink as fast as he could. The speed that you hurtled toward release stole your breath. That was his plan. Shock you while trying to beat his time so that you wouldn’t be able to speak. And then he’d win double the bragging rights.

And, damn him, it might just work.

Hungrily, he slurped up your pleasure. Adding a third finger to his onslaught, he curled them all to make you see stars. His metal arm flashed out to pin down your hips before you could arch away from him. The metal was cold, frigid, against your flushed skin. The difference in temperature was enough of an overload to your sparkling nerves that your eyes screwed shut. You babbled a series of sounds, making Bucky hum in delight.

But when he came up for air, gently stroking your folds to ease you down, you surprised him.

“Is that all you got, Barnes?”

“Fuck. Seriously?” He rested his cheek against the inside of your thigh.

You did your best to steady your breath. No point in revealing those six words were all you could manage. After another moment, you curled your own finger. You summoned him to hover over you, dangling his dog-tags in your face. Catching one between your teeth, you gripped and pushed his shoulders until he was on his back.

It was your turn to kiss down his body. Across his collar bone and pecs. Down that center chasm between his abs. From one hip bone, down his V, and up to the other side. As you took his length in hand, you had to smile. The poor man should have let you pleasure him first, instead of torturing himself and his cock with waiting. Gently, you circled your thumb around his tip. It dragged a groan out between his teeth. Good. The more vocal he was, the better you could track his ability to speak. Or lack thereof.

You set the challenge into the back of your mind and got to work in pleasing your man.

The first movements were gentle. And careful around how sensitive he was. Still, each touch and twist kept his voice active. He tried to watch you, but kept dropping his head back in pleasure as you quickened your movements. While he was laid back, you shifted your position.

His head snapped up, and he cursed loudly in Russian as his cock was enveloped between your breasts.

Darting out your tongue, you kitten licked the tip of his cock when it came into range. It gave you no small pleasure to watch your man, the Winter Soldier and former Commando, fall to pieces because of you. He cursed louder in English, Russian, and… was that German? But the more you jerked him between your breasts, the more his vocabulary scrambled together. You waited patiently. His metal hand twitched towards to before fisting the sheet. His flesh hand reached back for the pillows, sheets, headboard. Anything to ground himself. Then you struck. You let go of your breasts and dipped low enough to swallow him down. He roared as he bumped the back of your throat. Planting his feet on the bed, his thighs trembled with keeping himself from thrusting into your mouth.

That was fine. You moved enough for the both of you. And, just as his Russian was little more than the most strained of curses, you settled his balls into one hand, and slid the other up his torso. Your nails lightly caught his skin over his heaving breaths.

The high-pitched hiss from the depths of his lungs was your only warning before he filled your mouth.

Your ministrations slowed. You took every ounce of his pleasure, and smiled around his cock as you sucked your way off his length.

He dragged you up to bury his face in the crook of your neck. His lips trembled while trying to say something. Anything. But all he could do was pant into your skin.

You smiled. And kissed the underside of his jaw. While you both recovered, you murmured gentle reassurances between breaths.

“You cheated,” he finally managed.

“Oh? When did I manage that?”

Running his fingers through his hair, he stared you down. “Those damn shorts.”

With a laugh, you nipped at his chest. “What? You did get to take them off, like you wanted. And I can’t help it if you decided to run your hands all over me and get yourself hard. It jazzed me up too. So, in my mind, we’re even.”

“Fine.” He tilted up your face to kiss you. Mumbling against your lips, he complained, “you’re using alotta words there, ангел.”

“And you’re still capable of Russian.”

Bucky grinned. “Then I guess this challenge isn’t done.”

And it wasn’t until long into the night.

***

Ангел: angel

***

Masterlist

Marvel Masterlist

#bucky barnes x reader #curvy!reader #bucky barnes smut #avengers smut #marvel smut #bucky barnes fluff #reader insert #bucky x female reader #bucky barnes x female reader

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brandileigh2003 · 16 days

Text

Raising Harry and/or teddy recs. I know I'm missing some so send me your faves or self rec ❤️❤️

-orange juice (i've been ready for you to come home for so long) by raggedypond get back together ft Chronic Illness

-my love, take care of yourself by @littleoldrachel ft mental health and chronic

-Anything that msalexwp writes that includes the trope is fantastic

Let's Play Pretend muggle fake dating real feelings

Second Generation get back together

-the sea is a good place to think of the future by peachyybabe get back together ft Chronic Illness @lavenderhaze

-Like Real People Do by thirdcrow: coffee shop, great disability rep

-An Infinte Ocean by orphan_account muggle get together

-We’ll Make It Out Alive by wolfstar_addict417: muggle texting kidfic

-Blue Moon Café by @lazuli-moon raising teddy coffee shop

-Forever Is a State of Mind -orphaned account ft deaf remus

-Of Bookshelves and Baby Carriers by @poppunkpadfoot

-the mayors of simpleton by @fruityindividual older wolfstar get back together ft blind remus

-Till We Have Arrived Home Again by prouvairing divergent

-Of Quiet Hearts And Thundering Dreams by @tracingpatternswrites

-Spare! by B1ackCatChatsBack muggle get together

-I didn’t sign up for this by Moonystoastandmarsbars get back together

-Of Protein Powders and PTAs by @squintclover and TracingPatterns magical divergent

-A Wolf, A Bear, A Dungeon Master, and Boy Wonder by @ratmom819 ft chronic illness

-Puppy Magic by @demonbanisher thefifthmarauder17 magical divergent

-what a wonder (what a waste) by peachyybabe mcd magical divergent ft trans remus, mental illness and

-Aging Gracelessly by orphan_account older wolfstar texting

-So I'll Take My) Good Fortune by orphan_account muggle uni

-The Molinete & the Media Luna by punkwolfstar ft disability

-beautiful boy (darling boy) by @impishtubist and roaming_the_greenwood1: magical divergent ft trans remus

-Multiplying Parents by @heartofspells harry wants to find Sirius a bf

-ten reasons (to go to michigan) by @greyeyedmonster-18 muggle au get together

-The Things I Did by Lolo_row divergent

-Of Memories and Milk Thievery by moonymoment older wolfstar get back together @mayescapade

-Basilisks, Boggarts and Boyfriends (oh my) by OptimisticDinosaur

-Of Caffeine Addictions and Nail Polish by BlueAzalea au pining and fluff

Check out my fandom wife lucigoo she has some wonderful ones

Common Woodbrown by @imochan

that’s the art of getting by sarewolf

----Self rec: parks and playdates ft disability plus trans and asexual remus

~~Others' recs ~~

-Wherever I am/ you will always be - BrigidFaye

(anon): Under Foot, Under Moon by sometimeswelose

-An unexpected reunion- r33sesPieces

Rhythm & Blues by lez_writes13

stealing harry by @copperbadge

-Blanket Fort by @samynnad102687 : Regulus, James, and Harry build a blanket fort.

-Trick-or-Treating by Samynnad102687: The Marauders, Regulus, and Lily take Harry Trick-or-Treating.

-Unbound by you by friendlyneighborhoodtrickster, TracingPatterns

-Moonless Nights by @sliebman10 Sirius is trying to rebuild his life after the fateful Halloween of 1981. He's struggling to come to terms with Remus's betrayal and his new role as Harry's guardian.

-Family Vacation by sliebman10: Sirius is skeptical that a family resort is where he wants to spend his first summer vacation with Harry there, but he comes to see its merits when he meets Remus and his family.

-All the soul and body scars by 1point21

-To build a family - secondsister

-Forever live and die - wolfpants

--feel free to check it my main rec list

Also - the wolfstar librarian has awesome collections for raising harry

#raising harry potter #raising teddy lupin #wolfstar raising harry #wolfstar raising teddy #remus lupin #sirius black #marauders #wolfstar #fic recs #fanfic rec #fanfiction recommendations

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starsinthesky5 · 6 months

Text

you are in love | joe burrow x reader

description: how did you end up falling head over heels for the quarterback of the Cincinnati Bengals? but most importantly, how did the quarterback end up falling harder for you?

a/n: this is my first fic ever so bare with me! i’m still getting the hang of writing about joe. i have tried a few times but ended up deleting them because I didn’t like how they turned out LOL. buttt I got bored and got a little confidence and decided to try again. i hope you all like it (if anyone even reads this). this is based off of one of my favorite songs ever and I thought it would make a nice fic. i hope its not too cringe, enjoy :)

warnings: slight smut and allusions to sex, language

word count: 5.5 k

part 2

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

present day:

One look, Dark Room

Meant just, For you

Time moved too fast, You play it back

“And that should do it,” Joe says as he places the final pillow onto the fort.

“Didn’t know you had “architect” in your job portfolio. This is impressive,” you giggled as you got into the fort.

“No need for the flattery babe, gotta make sure your first night here is comfy so you come back,” Joe replied while draping a blanket over your legs.

“Oh I’ll be back, someone has to use the massive pool, and knowing you, you won’t go in there without me,” you said while thinking about all the exciting things you’ll get to do with him at his new house.

“You got that right, but you’re the one who needs to hang on to me and use me as her personal flotation device,” he says as he settles on the pillows across from you.

“Well then, maybe you shouldn’t be so huggable Mr. Burrow,” you say before throwing a pillow at him.

Today was you and Joe’s 6 month anniversary. You two had spent the entire day moving Joe into his new house that he bought when he signed his extension. There were boxes everywhere and hardly any furniture set up, so Joe ended up building a blanket fort for the night. He spent every free moment apologizing for not being able to do something romantic for your anniversary, but you didn’t mind. Any moment with him was special.

“Thank you for helping me out today, I know you probably didn’t think we’d be spending most of the weekend doing this when I asked you to come to Cincinnati,” He said as he was fidgeting with his wristbands.

You lived all the way in Los Angeles and were currently in the middle of working on your 3rd studio album. You were in desperate need of a break and inspiration, so you jumped on the first flight to Cincinnati to see your favorite person.

“Joe, you've apologized enough. Seriously, it’s perfectly fine. You know that I don’t care about the fancy dates and over-the-top gestures. Any time we get to spend together means the world to me, even if it involves carefully moving your extensive Lego collection to the new house,” you chuckle while rubbing his foot.

Joe’s heart was exploding while you were talking. He seriously doesn’t understand how he got so lucky. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to him and he wanted to do everything possible to show you. But the one thing he adored most about you was that you didn’t care for all the glitz and glamor of dating an NFL quarterback. And you loved that he didn’t care about your Hollywood status or all the attention you’d get from the public.

Joe got up on his knees and crawled over to the spot next to you. Once he sat down, you immediately latched onto him and buried yourself into his neck, missing the warmth of his body.

“See, you’re so huggable,” you murmured against his neck.

You heard him softly laugh and felt his hand move up your side, squeezing your arm. “How did I get so lucky” you wondered to yourself.

——————————————————

first meeting:

Buttons on a coat, Light-hearted joke

No proof, not much

But you saw enough

Flashback to July 4th: The Hamptons, New York

You dreaded going to the big 4th of July bash hosted by Micheal Rubin every year, but as an up-and-coming musician, saying “No” to this kind of party would be stupid given the number of connections you could make. The party would always have the most elite Celebrities, Models, Musicians, and Athletes; meaning a lot of small talk and fake laughing. This would be your third time going, and every time you end up sitting in the corner, alone with your way too strong Vodka Martini, counting down the minutes until you could leave. But this year, something was different.

You did end up sitting in the corner with your way too-strong Martini, but you weren't alone. And you certainly weren't counting down the minutes until you could leave. Hell, you were even wishing this night would never end.

“What happens to Football Players when they become blind?” he asked.

“Hmm, I don’t know,” you replied.

“They become referees,” he said while smirking.

“Joe! You can’t say that!” you wheezed out. You couldn't contain your laughter any longer. You weren’t sure if it was because of the Martini, or the fact that Joe Burrow was sitting next to you, also drinking a Vodka Martini.

“Hey, it’s the truth, but you didn’t hear that from me,” Joe said while throwing his hands up.

“You got it Mr. QB1, but I do agree; it’s such BS when they miss the most clear calls,” you giggled.

You weren’t really sure how you and Joe ended up basically spending the entire party by each other's side. One minute you're about to sit and scroll on your phone as usual, and the next thing you know you’re telling your life story to a guy you just met. Were you a little buzzed, absolutely. But something about him made you feel comfortable and safe, even though you just met.

“You’re really cool by the way,” Joe whispered.

“Gee, aren’t you Shakespeare,” you smiled and took another sip of your drink.

“Seriously though. The entire time we've been sitting here, not once did you purposefully bring up the fact that I’m an NFL quarterback. Not many girls can talk to me without bringing up football or trying to flirt with me. It’s exhausting,” he confessed but quickly realized how cocky he sounds. “Not that every girl tries to flirt with me,” he added.

You laughed and said, “Well, lucky for you I find more value in real conversations than all that superficial stuff. I totally understand the feeling, I love talking to people about my music but after a certain point I just want to talk about normal things and have real conversation,”

I do think it’s cool that you’re a football player since I grew up watching it, but I want to know more about you, not the quarterback,” you continue.

“Well then Miss Y/N, I’m in New York for a few more days, let me take you out to dinner so you can get to know the real Joe a little more,” he boldly asked.

You stared into his deep blue eyes, eyes you wouldn’t mind getting lost in. Something about those eyes was promising. You’ve only just met him and for all you know, he could be a typical “Fuck Boy athlete” looking for a quick hookup. There was nothing to attest to what he was saying, but part of you was willing to take the risk. Something about him felt different.

“Earth to Y/N-”

“Okay,” was all you said.

Little did you know that saying yes to Joe was one of the best decisions you’ve ever made.

——————————————————

early dating:

Small talk, he drives

Coffee at midnight

The light reflects, The chain on your neck

He says, “Look up”, And your shoulders brush

No proof, one touch, But you felt enough

Flashback to your first time visiting Joe in Cincinnati

It had been a few weeks since you and Joe had dinner together and he had been nothing but a gentleman. The two of you talked about everything from your childhoods to your current aspirations, to your favorite music, and even geeking out about Marvel Movies plus everything nerdy. Joe made you feel good about yourself. He would always tell you how pretty you looked and paid the most attention whenever you would talk. He made you feel butterflies, something which you hadn’t felt in a long time.

After you left New York, the two of you couldn’t stop talking to each other. The silly conversations eventually turned into deep ones; you telling him things you’ve only shared with a select number of people. You felt comfortable when you were talking to him, so this wasn’t difficult for you. He shared things with you about himself that he would only share with those close to him, which was very few since he kept a tight circle. You both shared a mutual feeling of trust, willing to lay yourself bare just to get to know one another. You’d always text him after a vigorous studio sesh to vent and he would update you on his off-season progress. Those texts eventually turned into late-night facetimes, which ended up in Joe asking you to fly out and see him. You hesitated a bit before saying yes. In the back of your mind, you were scared. You knew that the more you two talked and saw one another, the more attached you’d get. He could break your heart into a thousand pieces if you weren’t careful. But you owed it to yourself and to Joe to try.

You hummed along to whatever song was playing on the radio as you looked out the window and watched the bright city skyline fade. It was currently midnight in Cincinnati and Joe insisted that he take you to his favorite secret spot on your first trip here.

“You tired?” Joe asked as he glanced over to you, taking in every one of your features.

God you looked so pretty, he thought. You were wearing one of his old Athens Football hoodies and had your hair in a messy bun. You weren’t wearing any makeup and even had on a pair of his slides, which were a few sizes too big. Even in your most natural state, he looked at you like you were a diamond.

“A little. Didn’t get a lot of sleep on the plane,” you yawned out.

“I promise this will be worth it,” Joe said as he placed his hand on your bare thigh.

You immediately tensed up at the foreign contact. Joe felt you tense up and went to remove his hand but you put it right back on your thigh and felt your face turning red. Your stomach was doing somersaults right now.

“Those damn butterflies,” you thought to yourself.

“So, how’s the album coming along?” Joe casually questioned as if he didn’t just make you want to scream out of excitement.

“It’s good, slow, but making progress. I feel like I’ve hit a dead end and am having major writer's block so I think stepping away from it for a little bit will be good for me. Things were getting a bit stuffy and loud. I feel like I was getting somewhere but it always ends up being nothing,” you say as you place your hand on top of his, playing with his fingers.

“That’s good, I hope this weekend will be a breath of fresh air for you. Don’t be too hard on yourself. Always remember that you’re doing your best,”

You looked over at Joe and felt your heart swell up. He knew exactly what to say and how to make a girl feel special.

~10 minutes later~

“We’re here,” Joe says as he turns off the car.

You looked out the window and saw nothing but trees and grass. You were confused as to where he brought you but before you could ask him, he got out of the car and jogged to your door to open it for you.

“Thank you, Joey,” you blushed as he closed the door behind you.

Joe stepped behind you and whispered into your ear “Close your eyes, I promise it’ll make it even better”.

You closed your eyes and felt his hand on the small of your back. He led you through what felt like a clearing in the trees to a flat grassy patch. You could feel the cold wind against your bare legs meaning that you were out of the woods.

“Open,” he told you.

When you opened your eyes you were met with the most beautiful sight. The same skyline you saw up close, now you were looking at from a distance. It was breathtaking. In Front of you was a picnic blanket and a beautiful set up of candles.

“Holy shit Joe, this is beautiful,” you say in awe.

“Welcome to the lookout point. My favorite place to go when I need a minute alone. I also remember you mentioning how you loved looking at skylines during the sunset and even though we couldn’t make it for the sunset part, I thought this would be the next best thing,” He says as he leads you both to the blanket.

You both sat down on the blanket and he immediately pulled you into his chest. You both faced the bright skyline and all Joe could think about was how much peace he felt at that moment. It was just the two of you sitting in your own little world. The darkness and quietness around you both felt comforting because it was a sign that this moment was just for you both; no outside noise or distractions.

“This is insane, I mean you can see the whole city and river from up here!” You say as you settle into his arms, your back to his chest.

“That’s not even the best part Y/N, look up,” He points.

You turn your head up to look at him and then you look up. You’re met with what is probably the clearest view of the stars you’ve ever gotten.

“It’s beautiful,” you whisper, not removing your eyes from the sky.

“You’re beautiful,” Joe says while looking down at you.

You got that feeling again. Your stomach was doing somersaults and the butterflies were back. Could this be that feeling? A feeling you hadn’t felt in a while? That feeling you get when the right person enters your life at the right time? Was Joe that person? So many questions filled your head that you didn’t realize Joe had been softly caressing your thigh the entire time which pulled you out of your trance.

“That right there is the Big Dipper which points straight to-”

“Polaris,” you interrupt.

“Space nerd,” Joe shakes his head and laughs out.

“Don’t think I don’t know about your space nerdy ways Burrow, I know this is your domain,” you huff out. Joe had told you back in New York that he loved anything and everything space and physics-related. You admired how someone like him was a complete nerd under the tough shell he had. You naturally went back to your apartment and spent an hour or two updating yourself on space quick facts, which certainly paid off.

You slowly got out of his embrace and sat up across from him.

“Is something wrong?” He asked with a hint of confusion in his voice.

“No, nothing’s wrong Joe,” you chuckle.

“It’s perfect actually. It’s all perfect. You’re perfect,” you say as you move closer to him, still sitting up. “You know how to make a girl feel special, this was really sweet of you Joe,” you say as you play with the strings of his your hoodie.

“I just wanna make my girl feel special,” he confesses while moving your hair out of your face.

His girl.

Those were the only words you needed to hear before you jumped onto him and pressed your lips against his. His lips fit perfectly against yours like you were made for each other, so soft and sweet. He slipped his tongue in between the valley of your lips and entered your mouth which caused you to let out a soft whimper. You both spent a few moments exploring each other’s mouths before he broke apart the heated moment.

“I take that as a “yes I’ll be your girlfriend”,” he questioned while searching your face for an answer.

“I didn’t know you were asking,” you teased.

Joe’s face dropped, did he push you too fast? You noticed his facial expression change and immediately pressed a soft kiss onto the tip of his nose and laughed, “Yes silly, I’ll be your girl,”.

——————————————————

it's getting serious:

Morning, his place, Burnt toast, Sunday

You keep his shirt, He keeps his word

And for once, you let go, Of your fears & your ghosts

One step, not much, But it said enough

Flashback to Joe’s house (4 months into dating)

The warm sunlight flooded the room as you slowly woke up, your body sore and wrapped up in Joe’s sheets, and Joe himself. Joe was sound asleep, fully koala bear hugging you with his head on your chest. God, how does he look so perfect this early in the morning? His dirty blonde curls were sprawled out against your chest and his lips were curled up, almost smiling. Your eyes moved to his back, a few red scratches still visible. You made a mental note that you should probably trim down on the length of your acrylics if this was going to become a common thing for you two, smiling at the thought of what unfolded the night before. You freed your hand from under the sheets and moved it around his back, hoping to soothe any pain you caused.

The two of you had stumbled into his house late last night after a delicious dinner and wine tasting at a local winery. You two had a few too many glasses of wine and were lucky you made it home in one piece.

Flashback to last night

“I don’t think I’ve ever had that many glasses of wine in one sitting before,” you slurred as Joe led you inside the kitchen.

“Me either, next time make sure I stop after the 3rd glass. And it’s a good thing we got someone to take us back and forth,” he said as he took off his jacket and went to get you both some water.

“Literally. If you were to drive I think we’d end up in the Ohio River,” you deadpanned.

“Haha, really funny,” Joe said as he handed you a glass of water.

“God my feet feel like they’re on fire,”. You wailed out while taking a sip of the icy cold beverage.

Joe looked over at you and saw you eyeing your feet. You were wearing a short skin-tight black dress; one of his favorites. The low cut of the dress highlighted your neck which had his favorite part of your outfit. The necklace he gave you for your 1 month anniversary. A simple pendant with the letter “J”. After he gave you that necklace, you never took it off. It became a part of you, and he noticed that.

Joe crouched down and began untying your heels.

“Joe you don’t have to do that,” you cooed while twirling your fingers through his hair.

“I don’t have to, but I want to,” he said while flashing you a smile.

He helped you step out of your heels and back onto the ground. Once he got back up he wrapped his big hands around your waist and your hands immediately found their home around his neck and into his hair again.

You inched your face a little closer to his and pressed a delicate kiss onto his soft pink lips.

“Hi,” you whisper against his lips. This time, he pressed a soft kiss on your nose.

“Hi,” he whispered back, staring into your eyes.

“Tonight was really fun. Thank you for always knowing how to get my mind off of things,” you say while staring into his baby blues.

“No need to thank me Y/N. I know how hard you work and how things can become overwhelming. I’m glad that I can get your mind off of things, even if it’s for a little bit,”

He wasn’t wrong. Things often become too much for you back in LA and coming to Joe was your escape. Being with him blocked out the outside noise, you would completely forget about whatever was bothering you. You guys would often end up doing the most random things together, without any plan, but that was okay. Those nights where you’d end up eating Chinese takeout on the floor while building a new Lego set were your favorites. The hot summer days where you both would spend the entire afternoon attached to each other in the pool was one of your favorite ways to destress, it was just the two of you. He is your shelter in the hurricane that is your life.

For Joe, it was very similar. Anytime football would get too real, he’d come straight to you. You were always there whenever he needed to vent or talk something out, knowing you’d always listen. You had been to every single one of his games so far and were always waiting for him in the suite after. Whether he was upset after a shitty game or on Cloud 9, you were always there waiting with open arms. And he loved it. He loved being able to share his high moments with you, even if you had to see some of his lows. Your relationship hadn’t become public yet, which you two were incredibly grateful for. You both were incredibly private people and wanted to take in as much as you could before the whole world had an opinion of your romance. Getting to know each other in private, away from prying eyes, was a blessing.

The two of you continued to stare into each other's eyes, you found yourself once again getting lost in his.

You felt Joe’s hand migrate to your ass, giving it a soft squeeze.“Getting handsy now aren’t we, Burrow,” you softly giggled.

“Can’t help it if my girl looks so goddamn beautiful in this dress,” he said matter-of-factly.

“I appreciate the flattery Mr. Burrow, but do you need something from me or are you just being a flirt” you teased.

“I need you,” he blurted out.

Your heart almost beat out of your chest when you heard him say that. You and Joe haven’t taken that step in your relationship. You’ve had your fair share of heated make-outs that occasionally involve wandering hands, but nothing like that has happened, yet. It’s not that you didn’t want to, god you wanted to. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t want to climb him like a tree. His perfectly sculpted chest, his muscular arms, those thighs, and that face. He made you weak in the knees, and he was well aware. He never pressured you to go there, letting you know that it’s okay to take things slow. But tonight you didn’t feel like taking it slow.

“Then show me, Joe,” you said as you felt your arousal shoot up.

Joe immediately picked you up, bridal style, causing you to let out a shriek. Your arms wrapped around his neck as he launched you both up the stairs, taking the steps 2 at a time, eventually rushing into the bedroom.

“Joe, slow down!” You squeak out while laughing.

He carefully laid you on his bed admiring you for a second; you looked perfect, even with messy hair and smudged makeup. Joe moved onto the bed and started placing soft butterfly kisses up your arm, right up to that spot on your neck that he knows you love.

“Joe, please,” You whimpered, fully implying you wanted more with the tone of your voice.

Joe removed himself from your neck, looked into your eyes, and said “Are you sure?”.

You smiled and said “Absolutely,”.

He then captured your lips in a passionate and deep kiss. You felt like kissing him till your lips fell off, it was like heaven when you two would connect. Slowly, both of your clothes ended up on the floor and those passion-filled kisses turned messy and sloppy. You felt those butterflies in your stomach again as he was kissing his way down your body. You did not doubt that Joe would be careful with you, and you knew he wanted this just as much as you did.

End of Flashback

You decided to go back to sleep since it was still pretty early and you know Joe was tired from last night. You woke up a few hours later to the smell of cinnamon and coffee.

“Mmmm,” You say as you stretch out. You didn’t feel any weight on you anymore so Joe must have woken up. You looked around the room and didn’t see him anywhere so you decided to freshen up in his bathroom and head downstairs. When you entered the bathroom you saw one of his shirts (a purple long sleeve LSU shirt aka one of your favs) on the counter with a sticky note saying “For you :)”. You put on the soft shirt (which was way too big) and start fixing your messy hair before heading downstairs.

You walk into the kitchen and see the dining table decked out with a vase of pink carnations (which happens to be your favorite flower), 2 plates of French toast, and a smoothie for Joe. You also noticed a mug of coffee which made you smile. Joe knew that you would be a zombie the whole day if you didn’t have your daily morning coffee. Joe was too busy cooking the bacon to notice you coming downstairs, so you walked up behind him and wrapped your hands around him from behind.

“Good morning sexy chef,” you murmured against his back.

“Tryna get me going again?” He teased.

“You wish, last night was a damn workout. I need at least 3 hours to recover before we go at it again,” you giggled.

You heard his soft laugh before he spun around and wrapped his hands around your waist. “Well, we will def be repeating that. “Sooner the better,” he added.

“Horndog,” you said as you pressed a kiss on his cheek.

“Only for you babe,” he says before going back to the bacon. “I’m almost done with this, you can sit at the table.”

“Damn, quarterback, perfect boyfriend, and chef? Impressive job portfolio,” you say while walking to the table and sitting down.

Joe finished cooking the bacon and sat down across from you. “The French toast is a little burnt, I got distracted by the TV,” he admitted. “They were showing this month’s Top 10 funniest cat videos.”

You burst out laughing and say “Guess I should add Cat Lady to your job portfolio too,”

You two spent the morning digging into the delicious breakfast Joe had prepared, even though the French toast was slightly burnt. He talked about the upcoming football season and how excited he was for the new offensive schemes they had come up with. After breakfast, you both ended up on the couch and decided to play a round of go fish. You gave him some album updates, which he’d constantly ask for, and even played one of your demos for him.

“Y/N this is amazing,” he said softly. The song he had just heard was called “Sweet Nothing”, and you weren't planning on ever letting anyone hear it because of how intimate and special it was. A big part of what you did involved you being in the public eye a lot, which allowed everyone to nitpick and talk about your life. It was exhausting how often people would comment on your relationships, friendships, career, body, and everything in between. They always expected you to be perfect in every aspect and when you weren’t, they would make it known. You had written about how Joe never expected anything from you like everyone else did. Being with him was easy and you knew you could always go to him whenever the background noise would get too loud. And now here he was, listening to those feelings you had a hard time saying out loud.

“Thank you. To be honest I wasn’t planning on letting anyone hear that,” you say while looking down and fidgeting with your rings.

“Really?” he asked. “It’s really good, and I’m not just saying that because I’m your boyfriend.”

“Yep. I love it, I really do. I think it’s one of the best songs I’ve written so far, but I feel like it’s too bare and the fans won’t understand the real meaning behind the song. And I feel like they won’t like it.”

“And that’s exactly why you should release it. I know the real you, and that is the real you,” he says while pointing at your phone. Screw the fans, you should do what makes you happy.” he says before reaching for your hand, giving it a tight squeeze. “You make music because that makes you happy and you shouldn’t have to worry about what people will say. If they have an issue with you doing what you want, then they are sure as hell not fans.”

You got up on your knees and jumped onto Joe’s body, making you both lay flat against each other on the couch.

“How do you always know what to say,” you beam while prepping soft kisses all over his face.

Your heart felt like it was about to explode. It only took a few months for someone you just met to understand you more than people following your journey over the past few years. Joe’s words felt like a warm comforting hug, and they always made you feel like everything was going to be okay. You valued his words so much, you trusted him so much, and he loved that you were so open and vulnerable with him. He knew that opening up was difficult for you, and he felt at peace knowing you felt comfortable confiding in him. You weren't holding back anymore. You were 100% open and honest with him and he never took advantage of it. Your fears of getting hurt were fading away.

——————————————————

present day:

You kiss on sidewalks, You fight and you talk

One night he wakes, Strange look on his face,

Pauses, then says, “You’re my Best Friend”

And you knew what it was, He is in Love

“Y/N?” was all you heard as you felt your shoulder shake. “Did I lose you there?” Joe asked.

“What?” you questioned as you looked up at him. You were back in the fort Joe built for you two.

“I was asking what you thought of the house,” he says as he plays with your hair. “Is something wrong?” he asks.

“Oh. Sorry, I must have dozed off for a second,” you lied, not admitting you were caught in a series of flashbacks. “I think it’s amazing. It’s sooo big and has so much potential.” you continue.

“Yeah, it is pretty big,” he says with a sigh. You look up at him and immediately sense the change in his tone plus the dejected look on his face, “Is that not what you wanted?” you say with concern. “I thought you wanted a big house.”

“I did, I do. I just don’t want to be alone in this big of a house when you aren’t here,” he confessed, feeling slightly embarrassed as if he didn’t have other things to occupy his free time. “Unless,” he added.

“Unless what?” you asked.

He hesitated before saying, “Move in with me”.

It took a few moments for your brain to register what he said to you. You immediately sat up, as did he. You were about to say something but he cut you off before you could.

“Y/N. These past 6 months have been nothing short of peaceful and amazing. Being with you brings me the balance I need in my life. I know that if I ever fly too high or get lost, I have someone who can find me and bring me back down. You are everything I’ve ever wanted in life, and now you’re everything I need.” he says.

“You’re my biggest cheerleader, my support system, my safety net, but most importantly.” He pauses and says, "You're my best friend.” “And I love you.” he finishes.

Those 3 words. The 3 words that you’ve wanted to say to him for months but didn’t because you weren’t entirely sure if he felt the same way. Those 3 words just came out of his mouth, and he meant it. He loved you more than anything and he needed to make it known. He needed to wake up to your smile every morning. He needed to hear your voice echo through the halls of the house. You made him feel loved, and he needed you to know that.

You didn’t realize the hot tears streaming down your cheeks until Joe lifted his hand and started wiping them.

“Y/N, are you okay?” he asks, feeling nervous since you didn’t respond to anything he just said.

You started crying even harder. He loved you. He really loved you.

“Y/N you’re scaring me”.

“Shut up,” you said before you put your hands on his face and brought him in for a passionate kiss.

You kissed him for a few heartbeats and finally whispered against his lips “I love you,” loud enough for just him to hear before you captured his lips in another kiss.

He stops kissing you and stares into your eyes for a moment, getting lost in them like you do with his eyes. “So about my first question,” he beams.

“Yes silly, I’ll move in with you,” you giggle. “Someone has to make sure that you don’t burn this place down while making french toast. You got lucky last time,” you laugh out while remembering that morning.

“Haha, really funny babe,” he says before pulling you into a hug. The warmth of your bodies pressed together was the most comforting feeling in the world. Joe spent the rest of the night telling you how much he loved you, and you reciprocated the feeling by showing him how much you loved him.

We’re in love.

—The End—

#joe burrow x reader #joe burrow #joeburrow #joe burrow fic #joe burrow imagine #nfl imagine

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mydearlybeloathed · 4 months

Text

── 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐒𝐀𝐘 𝐍𝐎 𝐓𝐎 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐂𝐀𝐓

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: your daughter really wants a cat, and you're adamant that the answer is no... until it starts to look like a yes.

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: sanji x wife!reader

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 2.4k

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭: daughter oc, sanji and reader have a child, chaos ensues, no use of Y/N

𝐚/𝐧: a very happy mother's day to all the mothers out there! had this in the drafts so i decided today would be the perfect day to finish it :)

𝐎𝐏 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

“So unfair!”

“Dyla! Dyla!” You called after your daughter as she sprinted down the hall, nearly slipping on her socked feet, and disappeared around the corner. A door slammed a second later.

You ran a hand over your face as your husband sauntered in from the kitchen, eyeing the hall as if to see that the coast was clear. Sanji had a habit of disappearing the moment your daughter showed signs of a tantrum.

Today was one of the worst ones, all because you’d told her no. Sighing, you managed not to throttle Sanji when he grinned and offered you a cookie, fresh from the oven. You swiped it and took a bite, letting the stress roll off your shoulders as the cookie melted on your tongue.

“What’s she fussing about?” Sanji wondered, prompting you to roll your eyes to the heavens as you shoved the whole cookie in your mouth, swallowing it too early and wincing as you choked it down.

“She wants a cat,” you told him as you placed your hands on your hips.

Sanji raised a brow. “And you said no?”

“Of course I said no!” You pinched your brow. “We can’t take care of a cat.”

“... Why not?”

You shot him a sharp look, gesturing toward the window giving you a beautiful view of the sea and her rolling waves. The small ship rocked underneath you. “I’ll give you one guess.”

He followed your gesture and had the nerve to shrug, stuffing his hands in his pockets. “So? Cats love water.”

You flicked his forehead and swept over to clean up the pile of blankets Dyla had left out from her pillow fort. “Wrong. They hate water.”

“A cat would chase off the mice?”

“Whose side are you on, Sanji?” You tossed all the blankets into one pile as your gaze was drawn back down the hall again.

“No one’s, my love,” he said softly, resting his hands on your shoulders and rubbing small circles on your back. “I’ll talk to her. Maybe Aunt Nami will make her a stuffed cat when we dock in a few days.”

That brought a smile to your face, though only slightly. Sanji pressed a kiss to the back of your head. “She’ll be over it in an hour.”

“You sure?”

“Aren’t I always?”

“... I won’t dignify that with a response.”

And sure enough, three days later, when you docked in Cocoyashi Village, Dyla’s mood had improved greatly. Hopefully, by the time your family returned to your sea-top restaurant drifting somewhere in the East, Dyla will have given up on her cat fixation.

That was until Aunt Nami promptly squashed all your hopes.

“Aww, c’mon,” Nami whined, a pouting Dyla on her hip. “Let ‘er have a cat.”

Sanji barely choked back a laugh at the way your whole face fell at your daughter’s sudden excitement. You ran your hand over your face, pulling at your skin, and shot Nami a glare. “Our lifestyle isn’t ideal for a cat.”

Dyla groaned, dropping her head onto Nami’s shoulder. Catching your eye, Nami chuckled nervously. “Oh, yeah. I don’t think a kitty would like living on the water, kid.”

Again, a prolonged whine came from your child. Nami pursed her lips, obviously trying to think of something, before her face brightened. “Hmm, does it have to be a cat?”

Dyla lifted her chin, head tilted. “Huh?”

“Your pet. Does it have to be a cat?”

Your daughter spent a moment in thought, her eyes flickering to side as if assessing invisible calculations, before she shrugged. “I guess not.”

Nami beamed at her and shot you a grin. “Perfect! What if we find a pet that would love being at sea, huh? I think your mom would compromise.”

Dyla’s hopeful eyes found you in an instant, and you grinned halfheartedly. “If you find a pet that likes water, and promise to take care of it… I’ll say yes.”

She let out a giddy squeal, squirming out of Nami arms and racing toward the rows of tangerine trees. Dyla wasted no time in digging around in the dirt. She talked to herself off in the distance, tripping over roots and kicking around fallen, rotten fruits. Nami bumped your shoulder with her own, now standing between you and your husband. “You’re welcome.”

“Yeah, yeah,” you laughed softly. “With our luck, she’ll bring back a cobra.”

“Compromise,” Nami sang, starting toward the little girl now hanging from a low tree branch, screaming for help at the top of her lungs.

Sanji swept around and took both your hands, quickly drawing you away with a tiny smirk on his lips. You raised a brow. “Yes?”

“The others will be here by evening,” he said. “Which means we only have a few hours to ourselves.”

Shooting a glance back over your shoulder, you found Nami somehow waving you off whilst she held Dyla’s legs up, the girl monkey-barring up and down the branch. You whipped back around and gripped Sanji’s hand in a vice, giggling like a kid again. “Let’s go.”

Up and down the streets of Cocoyashi’s neighboring port, if you could even call the little village a port, you and Sanji raced and teased and danced around markets and docks. His lithe fingers tickled at your slides as he ducked through the meager crowd, and your sneaky hands tugged at his hair before you darted behind a stack of crates.

Sanji’s arms caught your middle when you tried the trick again, laughter spilling from your lips. Chests heaving, he released you just enough for you to spin in his arms and peck his lips. People were staring, sure, but neither of you could care less.

Sanji suggested the pair of you find something to thank Nami for babysitting. Halfway into agreeing, you spotted something… odd, just over his shoulder. Lightly tapping his arm you moved around him and slinked toward the tower of metal crates resting in the shade of a building. Beside it a market stand of various jewels and fine metals were being sold.

“You wanna get her a necklace or somethin’?” Sanji wondered aloud, promptly guiding you forward with a hand on your back till you dug in yoru heels and grabbed him by his shirt sleeve. You only shook your head, slowly approaching the vendor.

You stopped in front of the crate tower, and only then did Sanji realize what the matter was. Within the confines of the very bottom crate was a creature, curled into itself. Its little body was orange and striped and shivering. As you knelt on the ground, two of the tiniest fear-filled yellow eyes peered out at you.

Emotions welled up within you. Reaching out a hand to tap the cage bar, your heart tightened around nothing when the cub flinched away. “That can’t be comfortable, can it…”

“Ah!” The creaky voice of the vendor interrupted your thoughts. “I see you’ve found my little friend!”

Your eyes darted up to find a sorry excuse for a man staring down at you. Sanji stood over you with a matching scowl. The vendor simply kept on with that irritating glow in his eyes. “Right from the jungles of Little Garden!”

Slowly, you rose from the ground and settled the man with a steely look. A thousand possibilities came to mind, but only one arose to topple the rest (a possibility you saw yourself regretting in the very near future). “How much?”

“You won’t find a better—Wait.” The man stammered, hands clasping together as an excited laugh left him. “Of course! You’re very direct, dear! I like it!”

Sanji’s lips curled. “Just tell me the price.”

The man choked on air, cheeks flushing. “Yes, of course. Apologies.” He paused and did a little mental math, taking in the livid expressions on his clients' faces, and also the fact that they seemed in no mood to bargain. “Three thousand berries.”

The expected lashing out, followed by heated bartering, never came. Sanji only reached into his coat pocket and slipped out the appropriate amount of paper slips, slamming it all down on the wooden stand. The vendor’s mouth was agape as he scrambled to pick it all up, absolutely ecstatic at the course of events. “Lovely doing business with you!”

You held back from spitting out what you really wanted to say, instead turning and shoving the tower of crates over, sending them all crashing to the ground. A lid popped off and sent several copies of a supposedly one-of-a-kind bracelet across the market ground (a young woman in the business of purchasing one scoffed and swiftly swept away).

Together, you and Sanji left the scene and the vendor in hindsight, a cramped little crate in the arms of your husband.

Sanji looked down at the crate, then back at you. Your face hadn’t lost that fuming sort of look all the way back to Cocoyashi. “Darling?”

“Hmm?” You blinked suddenly, as if waking up from a bad dream. “Sorry. What?”

“Are you all right?”

You puffed out a sigh. “I’m fine.” Casting the crate a look, “Just wallowing in my hypocrisy.”

“Someone will be happy, though,” Sanji laughed.

You reached Nojiko’s house to find it empty, save for the sleeping form of your host in the dark of her bedroom. Sanji set the crate on the kitchen table and only then did you plop down and run your ahnds through your hair. “I’m too impulsive.”

Sanji came up behind your chair and kissed your head. “No. Just passionate.” He nosed your hair. “I thought it was sweet.”

“Sweet or not,” you started, “we’re down three thousand berries and up one… tiger cub.”

Sanji dropped down to be eye level with the opening of the crate. “I think he’s cute.”

Your husband softened his eyes and inched his hand forward, unthwarted by the cub curling away from his reach. “Dearest, grab some dried tangerines, yeah?”

Choosing to humor him (do tigers even like tangerines?), you rounded the table and swiped a few dried slices form the bowl on the counter. Sanji bounced on his heels like a kid on Christmas, slipping a slice through the bars and waiting. To your great surprise, only seconds passed before the cub lunged forward and took the slice in his little jaws.

Sanji laughed, bright eyes darting up to you. “He likes it!”

You set a hand on his shoulder and leaned down to peer in on your new friend, a grin tugging at your lips. Those little yellow eyes blinked widely as he swallowed all of the treat, a low gurgle signaling his request for more.

Nami and Dyla returned three hours later, your daughter perched on her aunt’s shoulders. Luffy and Chopper were right on their trail after meeting them at the docks, Usopp met up with them on the trail to the orchard, and Zoro appeared somewhere between the docks and the house having little to say about how he got there.

The door swung open and the lot was faced with a peculiar sight; you and Sanji on Nojiko’s couch, which wouldn’t have been odd at all if it weren’t for the tiger curled up on Sanji’s lap.

Nami’s jaw was on the floor, her eyes filled with mirth. She met your eyes and couldn’t hold back her laugh. “That isn’t compromise. That’s conceding.”

Rolling your eyes, you defended weakly. “Plans changed.”

Dyla slid from Nami’s shoulder in one swift motion, on trepid feet as she approached the couch. Her eyes flickered from you and her father before landing on the cub. “Mom?”

“Yes,” you playfully exasperated. “He’s ours.”

She hesitated, eyes widening when the cub yawned, showing off his little fangs. Sanji, barely able to hide his smile, nodded to the bowl on the table. “Bring ‘im a tangerine, love.”

Scrambling to do as he asked, she came back with the whole bowl in hand as the group settled in around the kitchen. Nami hopped onto the table as Zoro leaned beside her, the pair watching on in mixed awe and hilarity.

Zoro scoffed as Dyla squealed at the feel of the cub’s sandpaper tongue on her hand. Despite the apparent smile on his face, he declared to Nami, “If I ever start gettin’ domestic, slap me.”

Nami decided to keep to herself that she knew for a fact Zoro learned to cook just to ensure Luffy ate more than raw materials three meals a day, and that the white powder under his jaw was definitely flour from making pancakes that morning. She pat his shoulder with a shake of her head. “Sure thing, mosshead.”

They tuned back into the conversation just in time to hear Dyla scratch at the cub’s head and announce for them all to hear, “His name is… is… Strawhat!”

The only one to humor the name at all was Luffy, who jumped over to kneel beside Dyla as if he only just tuned into what was happening, his hat hung on the back of his neck. You chuckled wryly. “You sure? You can think of something—”

“Strawhat.” Dyla crept closer to the little tiger, locking eyes with the creature and having some sort of surreal connection only a child could understand. “His name is Strawhat.”

Strawhat mewled as if to agree, pawing at Dyla’s pigtail.

“He’s really cute!” Luffy bellowed through a laugh, waggling his fingers in front of the cub’s face and getting a swipe of claws in return. “Hey, easy, buddy!”

“Quiet down!” Nojiko appeared in all her sleepy glory, hands bracing herself on the door frames, and her eyes scanned over the room till she found Strawhat. She silently blinked and breathed till she shook her head and retreated into her room, murmuring under her breath.

Luffy broke the silent moment by tucking his hat on Dyla’s head, dragging another stifled laugh from her. Strawhat crawled toward her till they were nose to nose, and the cub sneezed so suddenly Dyla lurched backward. A laugh bubbled out of you, hardly hidden behind your hand as you leaned into Sanji. The day’s events quickly caught up to you as your eyes fluttered upon the scene of Luffy and Dyla playing with the tiger cub, now feeling safe and content in that little house with your daughter.

Sanji’s lips found your temple as you struggled to stay awake. Across the room, Zoro rolled his eyes while Usopp and Nami awed, and Chopper finally joined in on the fun and started up a conversation with the little tiger cub.

Safe to say Nojiko was irate by morning, but Dyla smile was positively brilliant.

#sanji #sanji x reader #one piece live action x reader #one piece #opla #opla sanji #opla x reader #x reader #reader insert #female reader #sanji's sister saga #one piece x reader #op x reader #sanji x yn #sanji x you

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