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golden-cherry · 1 year ago

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deal - cl16 (13/?)

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Reader

Series Summary: Your whole life has gone to shit. Your boyfriend broke up with you, you just lost your job and the Monegasque, who suddenly stands in your doorway, claims that it’s his apartment.

Chapter Summary: Sharing the bed with your roommate sounds pretty normal. Until ... just wait and see.

Warnings: 18+ (kissing, fingering, mentions of sex), fluff, Charles being worried

Word Count: 3.2k

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A/N: whoopsie. my hands just slipped. minors dni. feedback is appreciated!

Between sleep and being awake is that brief, fleeting moment when you feel more than you think. Your body is relaxed, your heart beats slowly but firmly, and the thoughts that usually keep you awake at night tend to float around in your head like shallow fog.

You snuggle deeper into bed.

Under the covers, it's as toasty warm as summer. It feels like you're lying in the sun after a nap on the beach and slowly waking up, which you now want to avoid at all costs, so you press your face back into the soft pillow and the warmth envelops you like a cocoon you never want to slip out of.

As the comforter slides down a bit from your chest and finds its place warm and heavy on your waist, goosebumps spread on your bare arms. Annoyed, you reach for the hem of the blanket, expecting to feel the fluffy fabric between your fingers so you can wrap yourself in that warmth again, just so you don't lose that feeling. This feeling of home.

But it's not the blanket that's warm and heavy on you.

Charles' hand slides from your waist over your stomach, or rather, under your shirt, and wraps around your middle to pull you closer to him. His chest is hard and firm against your back, and his splayed fingers burn against the soft skin of your belly. They brush over your ribs until they slide under your body and his thumb pauses at the curve of your breast.

You breathe deeply as his legs tangle with yours under the covers, leaving not a millimeter of space between your bodies. Charles nestles his face into the crook where your neck meets your shoulder, and his lips graze your burning skin.

"You're so warm," he whispers barely audible, his breath gently brushing your cheek like a summer breeze. He slides even closer to you, which is barely possible, and holds you so tightly that you couldn't squirm out of his grip even if you tried.

Which you don't. Why should you? No cozy blanket or nap in the sun has ever felt as good, as right, as Charles does at this moment. Behind you, pressed against you, so close you can breathe him in.

You press closer to him, to his warmth, to that feeling of home that you don't want to let go of, but just as you're about to push against him, he murmurs in your ear.

"Don't do this." His voice is low and raspy, sending a shiver down your spine.

You turn your head a little in his direction so that his lips move from the uncovered part of your shoulder to your jaw, spreading feather-light kisses that set your whole body on fire. Innocently you look at him, though you can feel exactly what you're setting off in him. "Why not?"

His hand pulls a little on your upper body, so you have to turn a little. As his splayed fingers slowly roam over your chest and brush against your nipple, your chest arches into his hand as if of its own accord. You moan softly. It's the most beautiful sound Charles has ever heard.

"Because then I can't guarantee anything." He props himself up on his elbow to look down at you. His gaze searches yours and his sparkling green eyes wait for a reaction from you. Which he gets, as he rolls your nipple between his thumb and forefinger under your shirt. You draw your eyebrows together and whine. You want more. So much more. "And because then I can't stop."

Your hand slides slowly up his hard, uncovered chest, along the nape of his neck, and your fingers weave through his hair, disheveled by sleep. As you tug gently, he moans and leans his head back a little so you can press a kiss to where his jaw meets his neck. As you gently suck on his pulse, a low rumble escapes Charles' throat. "Then don't."

His mouth isn't gentle or soft, but feral and wild as he leans over you and captures your lips like it's the most natural thing in the world. Charles pushes his tongue between your lips in a demanding manner, licking into your mouth as his hand, which was against your chest a moment ago, reaches for the hem of your shirt to pull it over your head, giving you a moment to catch your breath.

Against your expectations, he doesn't immediately pounce on your breasts, as his hand now moves to your neck to curl around it slightly so that his thumb is under your chin. He tilts your head back and his kisses travel from your mouth, to your jaw, across your neck. As he gently slides his teeth over your collarbone, you press his face even closer.

"Slow down, mon amour." He pulls back from you a bit so he can look at you. "I plan to enjoy this." His lips move further down, kissing your flaming skin, and as they close around your left nipple and suck, you nearly lose your mind.

"Charles," you moan, and his name coming out of your mouth sounds to him like a prayer finally being answered.

"What is it, ma cherie?" He lifts his head a little and looks up from your breasts, unrelenting hunger and desire and lust in them. "Tell me what you need, Y/N. I'll give you anything you want." Without taking his eyes off you, he runs his hand down your electrified body and slides under the hem of your panties to linger on the heat between your legs before sitting up to strip you of the last piece of clothing.

"You, Charles," you moan as he's over you again, his finger sliding between your folds and collecting the wetness. Your hand curls around his bicep. For God's sake, he definitely shouldn't stop touching you. "I just need you."

His face is back above yours as his finger gently enters you, and unbridled, you moan into his mouth. "I'm here, mon amour." He kisses the left corner of your mouth, and then your right, as his thumb circles over your swollen bud. All you want, all you feel, is Charles. "I'm yours, mon amour. Forever." As you feel his hard cock against your thigh, you arch toward him.

"But you have to spread your legs a little for me, love. Come on, just a little bit more."

You startle as the door suddenly opens. The blanket is tangled between your legs, and although it doesn't cover you, you're so indescribably hot that it would be a miracle if you didn't sweat through the mattress.

"Good morning, sleepyhead," Charles smiles, standing in the doorway dressed only in sweatpants, his arms crossed in front of his chest. You can't miss his powerful biceps. Neither his abs. "Did you sleep well?" Drops of water bead off his wet hair and fall onto his wet chest, where they roll over his skin toward his stomach. Apparently he's just been in the shower.

You'd like to hide under the covers, because having to look your roommate in the face after such a dream is definitely too much so early in the morning.

But Charles' gaze is gentle as he sits down on the foot of the bed. If you were to hide from him right now, he would immediately notice that something was wrong. And explaining your dream to him is definitely out of the question.

"Very well, in fact," you answer truthfully, because you really haven't slept so deeply and soundly in a long time. You are completely rested and refreshed, as if last night never happened. You push aside the thought that Charles is the reason why you slept so well. And even more so the dream that still haunts your brain. "How about you?"

Your friend nods slightly, and apparently the seam of your comforter is so much more interesting than looking you in the face. "Definitely better than on the couch," he smiles. "I got breakfast, by the way. Or brunch, rather. It's already eleven o'clock."

You raise your eyebrows in surprise. "I slept that long?" you ask, horrified, and jump out of bed. Your cell phone tells you that Charles is telling the truth - you slept through half the day.

Charles laughs. "You did. But it's great!" He also gets up from the bed and leaves the bedroom, you follow him. "You said you haven't had a decent night's sleep in a long time. And if I can help you with that, all the better."

You'd love to wipe that stupid grin off his face.

On the kitchen table, breakfast is indeed ready, consisting of two pain au chocolat and two croissants, toppings and orange juice. You give your roommate a look, but Charles just shrugs.

"I remember that tasted good the day before yesterday. I thought we could keep breakfast that way." He sits down in his chair, and the way he's leaning, wearing only sweatpants and his wet hair, you have to look away, because even though you're vehemently trying to shoo the dream from your mind, it's still very present. Heat rushes to your cheeks. How are you supposed to live with this?

With his foot, he pushes your chair off the table so you can sit down.

You point toward the bathroom. "You can go ahead and get started. I'll be right back."

The cold water on your face helps cool you down a little, but unfortunately it can't stop the racing thoughts.

Dreaming like this about Charles, your friend, crosses every single boundary you've set. You also don't know why you dreamed about him like that, after all, he didn't give you any reason to. He didn't flirt with you or touch you in any proper way - so why did your subconscious decide to betray you like this?

You sit down on the toilet lid and put your head in your hands.

The dream felt so good, so real, that you can't possibly leave it behind. Is this what it would feel like if Charles actually kissed you? Touched you? Touched you like this? Would he take your breath away, make your skin burn, devour you completely?

Okay, stop. You definitely don't want to tumble down this rabbit hole.

You quickly comb your hair so you don't look quite so sleepy, and brush your teeth before leaving the bathroom again and joining your friend, who hasn't touched breakfast yet but is looking annoyed at his cell phone in his hand.

"Are you okay?" you ask as you sit down across from him and reach for one of the two pain au chocolat.

Charles, who was so engrossed in his phone, now looks up at you. "My boss texted me. I'm actually on break until next year, but apparently I have to go to a meeting in a few days, which I'm afraid I can't sit out." He puts the phone on the table with the screen down and grabs one of the croissants.

"But if it's just a meeting, it can't take that long, right?" you ask him, tilting your head.

Charles exhales audibly. "You would think so. But the meeting is in Italy and is supposed to last over four days." He pours orange juice into the two empty glasses sitting on the table between you. "So we wouldn't meet again until next week."

You nod your thanks to him and take a sip. "When do you have to leave?"

Charles purses his lips. "The day after tomorrow."

Disappointed, you slump back in your chair. So you only have a day and a half before he leaves. And then you won't see each other for four days.

But maybe the distance would do you good. In two days, you've grown so fond of Charles that it's almost unhealthy. You've become so attached to him that you don't want to let him out of your life, and you already know that you're going to miss him immensely for the whole four days.

After what happened to your old circle of friends, you swore you would never take anyone into your heart so easily again, but Charles - Charles is just Charles. He's nice, friendly and funny, and even though you fight - according to Kika - like an old married couple, you know for sure that you would make up within the next few hours.

Calling Charles just your roommate or friend wouldn't do justice to how you feel about him.

"Can you last that long without me?" you joke, biting into your pain au chocolat.

Charles, grinning, puts his hand on the spot on his chest where his heart beats. "My heart beats only for you, mon amour. It hurts when you're not with me."

At the term of endearment, the dream flickers before your eyes again, and suddenly the pastry in your hands is so exciting that you can't take your eyes off it, while warmth shoots into your cheeks and your heart beats faster.

Maybe the distance is actually doing you good.

And maybe there's nothing wrong with Charles being away for the next few days. Just in case Raphael decides to show up outside your apartment again and wait for you. You want to keep your buddy out of the drama, which would be pretty difficult if your ex suddenly showed up at the apartment door and Charles was here.

Possibly you could talk to Raphael, get him to come to his senses so he'll finally leave you alone. And that would work best if the conversation was between the two of you. Without involving your roommate in the matter.

"You certainly have to work anyway, so time flies. Besides, Kika and Pierre are still in town. They're both quite charmed by you, too."

You pucker your lips into a thin line and knead your hands in your lap. "I'm sorry I didn't let you know I was at Kika's last night. And also for not answering my phone when you called."

Charles takes a sip of his juice. "'It's all right. I was just really worried because you said you'd let me know when you got home. I thought something had happened to you. Especially since your ex-boyfriend won't leave you alone."

Charles is completely right about that, of course. But you don't tell him that, especially since he won't be spending the next few days in Monaco and shouldn't worry about you.

"I'm really sorry, Charles. I didn't want you to worry."

Your roommate leans forward and crosses his fingers on the table. "As long as that guy is still out there doing his thing and bothering you, I'll always worry. But you're a big girl, and I trust you to call me as soon as you need help." He smiles gently. "But if something happens, make sure you call and then I'll come home right away, all right?"

You return his smile. "I promise."

After breakfast and after you've washed the dishes, you clean up the apartment a bit. While you clean the bathroom, Charles dusts the furniture in the living room and wipes the countertop in the kitchen with a damp rag. When you both finish and arrive in the bedroom, you stand indecisively in front of the bed where your sleeping stuff still lies.

Charles looks at you. "What do you think?" He points to the bed with a nod of his head. "Do you have a problem continuing to share the bed with me? And please be honest with me. I don't want you to feel uncomfortable in any way."

You look at him. His gaze rests gently on you, and apparently he cares incredibly much that you feel comfortable in his presence. Which makes the guilty conscience that blossoms in you like a sunflower in summer because of the dream grow even bigger. You shouldn't feel that way about your friend. The only reason you could feel uncomfortable is your own thoughts that haunt you and make you wish there was more between you two than friendship.

But you must nip this thought, this hope, in the bud as soon as possible. It's all the better that he won't be here for the next few days.

Charles notices you stepping from one foot to the other. "If you think we might have snuggled tonight, let me reassure you. Nothing happened. And even if something had happened, that would be okay. After all, we're friends sharing a bed. I'd be surprised if we didn't touch each other in our sleep. Or cuddle. After all, it's the most normal thing in the world." He raises his eyebrows. "I mean, as long as you're okay with that."

You take a look at the rumpled bed and covers that are the only barrier between you at night. Like Charles said, you haven't slept as well as you did tonight in ages, and no matter how much you want to tell yourself it's not him, you have to admit to yourself that his presence calms you immensely. Even in your sleep.

You turn to him. "All right. But as soon as things get weird, then we'll end this and go back to our old deal, all right?"

Charles has to grin. "Why? You don't want to cuddle with me, do you? I swear to you, once you cuddle with me, you'll never want to sleep without me again."

You roll your eyes as Charles grin widens. He throws himself full force onto the bed - your side of the bed - and crosses his arms behind his head, revealing his bare muscular chest. For sure, the whole bed will smell like him in a moment.

"When you cuddle me out of bed," you begin, moving around the bed to lie on his side of it, Charles' eyes following your every move and as you snuggle into his bedclothes, blush rises in his cheeks. "If you snuggle me out of bed, I will ban you from the bed and confiscate every single pillow so the couch will be unbearable for you." You close your eyes and enjoy joking with your buddy. Just being with him.

God, you're going to miss him when he's not here for the next few days.

You don't catch how soft and lustful Charles' gaze becomes at the same time as you press your face into his pillow.

And for a brief moment, he imagines your face pressed into his pillow under different circumstances as he kneels behind you and his cock fucks you hard and dirty until you come several times for him - and only for him - and he claims you as his own with marks all over your fucked out body.

He clears his throat briefly, then closes his eyes as well. "Deal."

next part

#charles leclerc #charles leclerc smut #charles leclerc blurb #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc prompt #charles leclerc fanfiction #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc x female reader #f1 #f1 smut #f1 fanfic #charles leclerc one shot #charles leclerc fluff #carlos sainz jr

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yasmindifference · 5 days ago

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wow why is it so big... ._. ... and jaytim pls :3

It's been snowing for three days straight, and Gotham has subsided into eerie silence.

That doesn't mean Jason's not patrolling, of course; it just means his patrols are a lot quieter than usual. It also means he's fucking freezing by the end of it, extra layers be damned.

On the bright side, the weather does make an excellent excuse for an extended stay at Tim's place. Someone's gotta make sure the spleenless wonder doesn't get taken out by a stray breeze, and who better than Jason?

That's his reasoning and he's sticking to it...not that anyone's asking. The Bats are too cold to even notice where Jason's spending the night, much less bother him about the whys.

And Tim, to his ever-pleasant surprise, never questions Jason's reason for showing up. He'll just pass him an extra plate of his dinner, or scoot over to make room for him on the couch, or enlist his help for whatever case he's working on, all without hesitation.

Or, like tonight--when Jason finds him already in bed--he lifts his (many) blankets in silent invitation.

A silent invitation that, after a quick change, Jason's more than happy to accept.

Snow is still falling outside the (one-way) glass that makes up two walls of Tim's penthouse suite, but inside it's toasty warm. Warm enough that Jason eschews the shirt he left here a while ago (freshly laundered since) in favor of just the sweatpants he's fairly certain he didn't. They don't look familiar, even though they're very much his size and stacked right next to his shirt on top of Tim's dresser.

Did Tim buy sweatpants specifically for him?

Jason's not gonna question it--too afraid the answer's no--but it's a nice thought.

He slides into bed next to Tim and is immediately pinned down when Tim eels on top of him and latches on tight.

"You're cold," he says with an unhappy little noise...but he very noticeably doesn't loosen his grip at all.

Jason rolls his eyes. "Yeah, it's like ten below, if you hadn't noticed."

"Mm." Tim somehow manages to hug him tighter. "You're the last one in tonight. Even Bruce called it early."

Jason slips his hands under Tim's shirt to warm them against his back. It'd take a better man than him not to enjoy how Tim squirms against him in response.

"Did Bruce call it, or did he get dragged?" he asks idly.

"There may have been force involved," Tim acknowledges.

That said, he yawns and tucks his face in the curve of Jason's neck.

"You made me wait forever," he adds grumpily.

Not that Jason would admit it (and good thing no one's here to call him on it), but that warms him more than the blankets and Tim's body heat combined.

Tim was waiting for him. Jason didn't find him buried in a pile of blankets reading on his tablet after a long patrol because he couldn't sleep, he found him like this because Tim was staying awake until he got here.

He keeps thinking this thing of theirs is uncertain, but...it's not, really. Every time he turns around, Tim's showing him, again and again, how welcome he is.

Maybe he really doesn't need an excuse.

So he doesn't bother coming up with one before he kisses Tim's hair--and, as usual, Tim doesn't ask. He just smiles into Jason's neck and kisses it in return.

"Night," he murmurs.

"Goodnight," Jason says, and with Tim on top of him--Tim trusting him--Tim wanting him--it really is.

Prompt #4 was snuggling beneath the covers! Well chosen! ♡♡

#jaytim #jaytim fic #yasminfic #meme response #krizariel #thanks for the prompt! ♡#this was not as much snuggling as i meant it to be but oh well lmao

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gyeomsweetgyeom · 2 years ago

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[7:41 am]

(cw: reader is called “mama”)

Saturdays were for sleeping in. That tradition hadn’t changed for you when Jaehyun was your boyfriend, when he became your husband, and even now that you both had your son. Just that the tradition was a little different now. Now, Saturdays were for sleeping in and snuggling with your son under the covers of the bed. A tradition that Jaehyun had rarely ever taken part in since he was a morning person, even on chilly mornings like this.

Your son who had joined you about half an hour ago when Jaehyun brought him to the room and laid him beside you. You were barely awake but couldn’t fight the sleepy smile that came when you saw that your son slept like his dad, arms above his head with his head turned toward you.

Some time in the next half hour you were awoken again when you felt your son moving, but not his cute little cuddles paired with his baby murmurings. No, it was Jaehyun gently lifting him from your hold. You grumbled groggily, “He’s fine here.”

He stood right beside the bed bouncing your son who was slowly waking up in his arms, “Sleep in my love, we’re going to go on a boys jog.”

“Jaehyun,” you whined, rubbing your eyes much like your son which made Jaehyun chuckle at the uncanny similarity, “it’s too cold to take him out.”

“I’ll bundle him up, so he’s nice and warm. Come on, gotta keep up with my resolution. You don’t want me going out there alone do you?”

You groaned, grabbing your robe from the foot of the bed and followed them to the nursery. You sat in the plush chair, watching as Jaehyun moved around the room gathering warm clothes for the baby. You took the baby from his hold, sitting him in your lap as Jaehyun searched for something under his breath, “Is daddy taking my baby boy out in the cold? Is he stealing our cuddle time my baby? Beanies are in the bottom right drawer of his dresser.”

“Tell your mama we need our guy time and we’re going to be nice and toasty,” Jaehyun smiled as he raised the baby above his head and lowered him with a kiss to the baby’s chubby cheek. You both smiled at the babble that came from your son.

“You have enough blankets in the stroller? His hood is on? Maybe I should go get his fluffy white blanket,” You trailed off from the front door, watching Jaehyun tuck the blankets in around the baby in the stroller.

He stood up straight with his hands on his hips, he stalked over to you and placed a quick kiss on your mouth, “You were supposed to sleep in sweetheart. He’s warm in the snowsuit you made him wear, 2 blankets, beanie, mittens, and the stroller has the cover up on it. We’ll be back before he gets hungry.”

“Don’t run too fast, there’s still icy patches out there. Or you’ll both get cold and then you might get sick,” you instructed. You leaned over the stroller pressing a kiss to your son’s forehead. “Be careful please.”

“Always am, my love. Go get some rest, you know our little guy will need all our energy later.” Jaehyun told you with a smile.

Sure enough almost 40 minutes later you were busy holding a bottle to your son’s mouth and an ice pack to Jaehyun’s knee, “Didn’t I tell you to watch out for the ice? Is my baby ok?”

“I think the ice will help with any potential swelling, I should be good in a few days,” Jaehyun sighed.

“I’m talking to our actual baby Jaehyun. Mama’s never letting you out of morning cuddles again my little love!”

Was it bad that Jaehyun felt jealous of his son being smothered by you right now?

#kpop imagines #kpop au #kpop scenarios #kpop reactions #nct #nct imagines #nct fluff #nct timestamps #nct x reader #jaehyun imagines #jaehyun x reader #jaehyun fluff #Jaehyun blurbs #jaehyun timestamps #jaehyun scenarios

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mellowsaturns · 2 years ago

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no place like home

STEVE ROGERS X READER

summary: a sweet moment with steve when you come home tired and sleepy

warnings: fluff, soft!steve

wc: 1.1k

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Unlocking the door to your apartment, the only thing you could think of was your beloved bed and how you couldn’t wait to hide under the covers and stay there for the entire weekend.

It had been a busy week and your human body was completely, utterly and wholly worn out.

Taking off your shoes and draping your coat across the kitchen counter, you let your eyes rest for a second before familiar arms made their way around your waist.

“Missed you sweetheart,” a voice murmured into your ear.

Spinning around, you were met with the light blues that you love so much.

“Steve,” you whispered, “I thought you weren’t coming back until Sunday?”

He hummed. “Mission went smoother than we thought. Got what we needed and got out as quickly as we could.”

You silently thanked the Gods once again for bringing Steve back to you in one piece before leaning into him.

He rested his head on top of yours. “Hard week?”

You nodded into his chest. “Just wanna get in bed,” you mumbled, although you were sure it came out as a string of incomprehensive rubbish.

He lets out a small chuckle before asking, “Have you eaten yet?”

You nodded. “I had something before I came back.”

You could fall asleep right there and then. Steve was so warm, a stark contrast from the chilly winds that nicked at your cheeks on the way back home. And as if he heard your thoughts, he pulled away from the sweet embrace, “C’mon, I’ll prepare a warm bath for you.”

As you entered the bathroom with a change of clothes, the imagine of Steve dropping some of your essential oils into the water as he double checked the temperature made you smile. He took care of you so well, though he obviously dropped too much of it into the water—you’re going to spend the whole weekend smelling like a lavender garden. But the fact that he tried and was doing this for you filled your tummy with butterflies.

You’re not a superhero, so he doesn’t need to bandage you up and take care of you in ways you do with him. But in return, he does these little things for you that you never fail to notice, like going the extra mile to get coffee and pastries at the bakery you love so much in the mornings; making sure he places everything in reachable height whenever the two of you come back home from grocery shopping; carrying you all the way home on his back when you complain your shoes were killing you and a new book showing up on your desk a week after mentioning it once. And of course, as your superhero, he protects you from the occasional alien attacks in New York City and masterminds who wants to take over the world—all threats that jeopardize your future together, he once said.

“It’s ready,” he confirmed, leading you to the white tub. “Want me to leave?”

You didn’t miss the playfulness of his voice and snorted. “Go keep the bed toasty for me you human furnace.”

He grinned, “Whatever you say, boss.”

Although he was The Captain everywhere else, he was completely at your mercy—he just loves you that much.

After a well deserved soak and Steve coming in halfway to insist he give you a shoulder rub to untangle the knots in your muscles, you feel much, much lighter. He was so good with his hands and always knew what you needed. You finished up with your routine and slipped into your pyjamas shortly.

And finally, the thing you wanted most ever since you started your journey home: crawling into the comfort of your bed. And it so happened that the love of your life was there too, perched up against the headrest and examining the book you were in the middle of—the one he got you a few days ago before he left for his mission.

Steve pulled you into his chest. “Want me to read to you?”

“Mhm. Please.”

It was funny. You were craving sleep all day but now that Steve was here with you, all you wanted was to stay awake and savour every second with him instead. If you were being honest, you weren’t paying attention to the narration of the book at all. You were too busy trying to keep your eyes from fluttering shut, but the way Steve was tracing his fingers up and down your back slowly and gently and sweetly was making it very hard to stay awake.

Steve knew you weren’t paying attention, he could tell by the way you were quiet, not piping in every few minutes to voice your opinion or ask questions like the curious thing you were. And there were your slight head jolts from time to time when dreamland almost hits but not quite. It was cute, he thought internally. But Steve kept reading to you anyways, his voice acting like a lullaby. Because if he stopped, he knows you’re going to find a way to try and stay awake with him even though he knows you’re exhausted.

Shutting your eyes, you told yourself you were just resting them for a while. With this, you were able to pick up some of the words that were coming out of Steve’s mouth. His voice was nice. The safety of your apartment was nice. The warmth of the bath earlier was nice. But nothing beats snuggling with Steve. With your head on his chest and his arms wrapped tightly and securely around you, it was your favourite place on earth. With Steve, it was always safe and warm. It was home.

You picked up a “love you” from him, but you could have sworn the book wasn’t a romance. The corner of your mouth twitched upright just before the drowsiness took over, finally lulling you to dreamland.

Steve stopped reading a while ago. And when those cute little breaths of yours left your mouth, he placed the book back onto the nightstand, remembering to place the bookmark back to the original page you left off even though he read four chapters to you.

As he turned off the lamp, he looked down at your serene state once more. When he first came out of the ice, it didn’t feel right—didn’t feel like he belonged anywhere. And that all changed when he met you. It was then he could say he found a place in this strange new world. A home. You were home. He’s the luckiest man on earth, he thought, before placing a gentle kiss on your forehead, closing his eyes and meeting you in your dreams.

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x you #steve rogers x y/n #steve rogers fic #steve rogers fluff #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers drabble

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monsterfloofs · 3 months ago

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Ary (Female Reptilian Alien) x Anonymous Reader (Sfw)

(Writing some cuteness about two beings out in space >:3 Platonic luff or romantic luff, I am leaving it up to you, dear reader. )

Space is cold. That's the first thing that gets drilled into your skull once you become a spacefarer. The glittering sky may look beautiful from afar, but it is a vacuum after all. Unprotected, Your blood would boil, your lungs would collapse and ultimately, your body would freeze over from the cold.

With all the technology at the galaxy's disposal, none is more precious, more imperative than the suit you wear and the metal transport that keeps its crew cradled below its multitude of decks.

With heat being so important, some places within the ship needed it more than others. Vegetation that couldn't grow without expensive artificial sunbeams taking precedence over other areas of the ship. Food was a necessity, and some comfort had to be given up for that precious resource. The crew's cabins were, unfortunately, one of those places where a little heat had to be forfeit for the greater good. While these areas of the ship could be on the chillier side, intelligent ingenuity would find a way to make it work.

And make it work, we did.

Chilled fingers fumbled with the controls of heating blankets before you duck your head and sneak back under the covers.

"Whew, okay, done and done."

You catch the glint of the eerie shine of an eye under the blankets before toasty fingers wrap around your own. Ary was your cabin mate, and the two of you had bonded thick as thieves due to the cold climate onboard. They were a reptilian with cold green blood and a sensitive disposition to climate change. They were one of the agriculturists, working in the hot and humid biosphere on deck five. Quick on their feet and witty in the warm sunshine. Yet, outside of that environment the cold took a toll on her. She became sluggish and tired, never without a cup of something hot, with a special biosuit that helped regulate their temperature.

The two of you huddled closer together underneath the makeshift tent. Flexing your fingers as heat returned and a dull ache settled in the joints.

"Is it just me or are the sleep cycles the coldest?" Ary's voice whispers next to you.

You laugh, "I was thinking the same thing!" You shudder and the two of you huddle closer together. You tap your watch and hold it out, dim orange light filtering into the space.

"We left off on. . ."

"Episode 6," Ary supplied eagerly, learning their head against yours. "It's where Lord Zenra discovers a stowaway on his regency ship, who is in fact Princess Ezie, who went into hiding because her homeworld was under attack and now she attempts to plead with the Lord to help save her home."

You glanced up at Ary's wide eyes, "Did you skip ahead?"

"No!" Slitted pupils flared round, "But I am pretty sure I have rewatched each episode about five times! Hit the play button already, you're killing me!" You cackle, and the two of you relax back, watching the holographic screen flicker with action until sleep comes.

You wake up nose to nose with Ary, giving a small smile, before pulling back the covers. The reptilian hisses and grumbles, pulling the blanket nest tighter around them to keep away the sudden chill.

"Are you going to get up and have breakfast with me?"

You laugh as you see the tip of her snoot peek out of the blankets.

"Do I have to?"

"If you want breakfast!" You check your com, "It'll be over in an hour or so, so we got some time still but. . ."

You could already see the snoot slowly receding back into the blankets.

"Don't need it. Need bed more."

As much as you agreed with that sentiment, someone had to be the voice of reason, "The faster you get out of bed and get breakfast, that faster you can get into the biosphere~"

Ary grumbled again, "Five more minutes, save a tray for me."

Well, that was that. You give yourself a moment to reflect on how good of a friend you are, for coercing your roommate to leave a toasty bed for a nutritious meal of something that looked somewhat edible. “That’s a pat on the back for me,” you mumble before your body decides that this is the perfect moment to do a full out shudder. You shake your head, and pick up the pace to the mess hall. The faster you can grab a cuppa something warm, the sooner you can stop shivering. You grab two plates and build up two different diet routines. One more on the heavily protein side with different kinds of dried meat and some purplish nut that you have lovingly deemed “almost almonds,” the other plate is a more varied kind, with hot rod red leafy greens, and fruit that is so grey and wrinkled, it looks as if it can’t decide if it wants to break out in mold, or if it’s too shriveled to care. It tastes a lot better than it looks. Thank goodness.

You balance the trays to a table, before you scamper back to get two piping hot mugs of something the troop calls “Space Sludge,” some beings onboard think it tastes terrible, as for you yourself, you aren’t sure if your taste buds have adapted enough to pick up what some beings abhor about the drink. It tastes like a very nutty tasting tea, as if someone threw in a whole spoonful and a half of peanut butter into it. A little odd, but it’s warm, and that’s what matters. You heard from Ary that the drink is one of those close to universal beverages. She would know, she’s part of the team working towards life sustainability on the ship. You can’t imagine what that job would be like. Referencing and re-referencing the crew to make sure that one being on board wouldn’t get poisoned by what some folks could eat a truck load of without batting an eye. It sounded terrifying.

Thinking of Ary must have summoned Ary, for you feel hands hug you from behind.

”It’s too cold out here,” She pulls you closer, nose pressed against the back of your neck which makes you start. “Cosmic creepers, your nose is an ice cube!” You wriggle to try and get away. “Stop, stop, I was just warming up!” She giggles and feigns a wide eyed snuffle as you squint at her. You do another one of the blasted full body shudders and you wriggle uncomfortably. “Brrrrrrr! You’re terrible!”

Ary sticks her purple tongue out and slides across the table to sit across from you. “At least I don’t stick my cold feet on your legs in the middle of the night.”

You grin, one shoulder raising and tilt your head, having your own evil giggle. “Ehehehehe, that was so funny though-“

“Funny for you! I woke up thinking something was grabbing my legs!”

”I can’t help it, I was asleep!” You try to explain yourself while you laugh. It was an age old conversation that the two of you ran through. This shared memory was something you would never live down. It was one of the first times the two of you had pushed your bunks together and shared a bed to keep warm. You had fallen asleep and hadn’t realized you had moved. You had been so cold it apparently woke Ary up squealing, and you had woken up in a groggy stupor. It was absolute chaos, and yet, after that you had been inseparable.

You pick at the food on your plate, pressing your lips together tightly to stop from giggling. Ary drinking from their mug. It was times like these when you two were together that the whole place fell away. It was just you and her, existing together, and nothing else seemed to really matter. The cold wasn’t a problem anymore, together the both of you seemed to diminish the effect of things. Struggles became merely challenges, something to puzzle through as a team. You wondered if she knew that, how much her presence brightened up your whole existence.

Enjoy what I write? I have a tip jar! I also take writing and art commissions on kofi! ヽ(*ᵔ▿ᵔ)ﾉ

#alien x reader #alien x human #exophilia #gn x alien #gn x female alien #also alien regency drama space operas sound so ridiculously silly and fun #I would watch them

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captainswhore · 7 months ago

Text

oh dear god i'm thinking about ghoap!

where simon has nightmares?

and they come frequently. he always tries sleeping in his own bed at first, but ends up moving into johnnys room halfway through the night so he isn't sleeping alone. they wake up tangled in eachother so often and they try not to comment on it or talk about it- johnny says something like "it's alright LT, just how we moved while we were sleepin- no need to be stiff and awkward" after the first time it happened and it was never brought up again.

until johnny gets a soft lil birdie all for himself- and the first night she stays over at johnny and simons off base apartment? simon doesn't know what to do with himself. loses so much sleep because he can't cuddle johnny after hearing his headboard bump the wall for a while, and hear animalistic grunts and gasps from mere hours ago. snaps at johnny and his girlfriend and is convinced that he should just move out or deal with them himself.

but he gets a bad one.

a really really, REALLY bad nightmare where he's back on the battlefield and he watches gaz get gutted, price shot down point blank, and he wakes up almost screaming after watching johnny get pushed to his knees and beaten bloody before a handgun is pointed right between his eyes.

he wakes up to go to johnnys room- to make sure he's still alive- and you aren't there. johnnys sleeping alone. johnny kind of rouses when he feels ghost slip in beside him on the bed, but really just scooches farther toward the other end so simon can just mold himself to the scots back.

only the kicker is you weren't really out of the apartment- just grabbing a water and answering a call that you got in the middle of the night from a drunk friend who needed someone to talk to while she was waiting for her uber.

simon's almost all the way asleep when he hears and feels you pull back the covers and climb into bed. makes eye contact with you, half hidden behind johnny, while you smile at him and pat his hand (which is wound around johnnys stomach), and roll onto your side- as far away from them as you can manage- to give simon the space to sleep. you roll over after a few minutes, facing them, to find simons eyes still on you. you whisper out "i can move to the couch if you need? i really don't mind, take all the time you need" but before you can move, johnnys got a hand up under your sleep shirt, hand splayed across your back, and is pulling you toward him, mumbling something you can't understand in his native tongue before coming out with "nah, yer gonna stay right here, wit' me... si's got a nasty habit o' stealin' ma blankets anyways, need my bonnie lass keepin me warm"

he hooks a leg in between yours and curls his leg around your calf, his hand is still on your bare skin under your shirt, and you end up giggling while simon just sighs before settling in to sleep.

you all wake up the next morning and you're in the middle, johnnys arms are wrapped around your back so your tits are pressed to his chest, and you can feel his hot breath against the top of your scalp.

simons arms are wrapped around your hips, and his legs are entangled with yours- and WOW- johnny wasn't kidding about simon stealing the blankets. your lower half, with Simons hard on pressing into you, is steaming hot, but your top half, wrapped around johnny, is toasty warm. just the perfect temp. your wriggling is what wakes them both up.

#... should i expand this???#i think i should

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miss-tc-nova · 1 year ago

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Naga Pet in Winter - Jamil

Been thinking about the twst pet!au created by glass cage of emotion 12 (now deactivated but you may find remnants of their writing) which is also based on the pet!au made by twst-drabbles.

Also, I just needed to write something fun. It's been a while.

So have a pet!au Jamil who can't handle the cold.

~~~~~

Your poor pet does not handle winter all that well.

As a naga, Jamil is all about that warmth and while he’s not entirely cold-blooded, he doesn’t generate enough body heat himself to endure freezing temps.

You can always tell when the weather is getting a bit too cold for him by the sluggishness that possesses him.

The typically-productive pet suddenly takes longer to complete his usual tasks, he forgoes the hobbies he enjoys, and he definitely takes longer to get out of bed in the morning.

If he usually runs errands with you, he’ll be less likely to volunteer to join you, preferring to remain in the shelter of your own home.

Don’t even ask him to participate in any snow shenanigans. Might end up in a vet visit otherwise.

Still, he’ll try to resist any pity you may give him. He says he’s fine and will still try to do the things you ask, so you better just take the initiative.

Around the house, creating warm spaces is essential. Space heaters, heat pads, and hot water bottles will go a long way to making this snek boi happy.

Wrapping him in blankets is also a good defense against the cold. As a bonus, he’ll also be a defenseless burrito ripe for cuddling.

Alternatively, be under the covers with him and he’ll be beyond ecstatic to share your body heat. He’ll try to contain the happiness, but you can feel it in the strength of his arms around you.

Once he’s all roasty-toasty, Jamil can easily be lulled into relaxing. He’s usually such a busy body—trying so hard to keep you happy—that seeing a pleasant little snek-cocoon sitting on the sofa is such a sweet sight.

If you ever wanted to play dress up with your pet, good news! You need to make sure he is layered when going out.

Usually he enjoys the casual layers. Give that boy a tank top under a long-sleeve shirt under a sweater under a hoodie. Maybe more if necessary.

On the other hand, he’s not opposed to some fancier layers. Dress him up with a button up shirt, a nice coat, and a scarf and he’ll feel some pride in his looks as long as he’s warm.

If, for any reason, you don’t have the space heaters and heat pads or you’re in a rush to get out the door and he’s not ready, fear not! For naga pets have not only the human and naga forms, but also, the snake form.

They’re actually one of the few pets that have more than two forms.

Jamil is quite portable as a snake.

He’ll coil in your lap, maybe hang out in the pocket of your hoodie.

He’d never admit he’d enjoy one of those cat hoodies with the pocket to carry cats around in.

But he wouldn’t say no if it’s just around the house.

Jamil’s favorite place to absorb heat though is around your neck.

Hiding beneath your jackets and scarves or your hair if it’s long enough, he hoards the heat you radiate like a dragon with treasure.

And he feels closer to you, sometimes pressing the top of his scaly head against your cheek.

Long walks like this are ill-advised though. He may be a snake, but he’s still a big snake and that weight around your neck isn’t great long term.

Also, let him sleep here at your own risk. This is one of the few times that Jamil will willfully resist any orders. This is his favorite spot. You may have to resort to physically removing him.

Beware the pouting afterwards though.

All-in-all, Jamil becomes an easy target for teasing when the weather cools, but he’s so cute while doing it. He’s normally happy to spend time cuddling, but expect a bit of clinginess in winter. He needs that warmth.

~~~~~

Nova’s Twisted Wonderland Masterlist

#twst pet!au #jamil viper

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alittlextrathatway · 11 months ago

Note

So don't you worry your pretty little mind

People throw rocks at things that shine

And life makes love look hard

The fire house.

Now I have to say, this was difficult because I rarely listen to Swift and I didn't know who the other was either... So if this just comes across as a weird choice, please feel free to ignore it. (just wanted to give you another to choose from because I really like your writings)

Fourth entry for the Sylvie works at FH 40 series.

You can find the previous parts at the following links: part 1, part 2, part 3

***

Three weeks and many dates later, Sylvie wakes up in Matt's bed. He's not in the room and his side of the bed is still rumpled and messy. She runs a hand over the sheets finding them still warm. He hasn't been out of bed long. Getting out of bed, she borrows a pair of Matt's boxers -- rolling them at the waist so they fit -- and puts on her t-shirt from the night before.

She starts to head to the bedroom door but then her feet leave Matt's rug and land on the cold concrete floors. With a grimace she scampers over to Matt's dresser and steals a pair of socks. Why is this loft always so cold? Do Severide and Matt really run that hot?

Well, okay, she knows Matt does. Thank god. He's like her very own personal space heater.

Padding her way into the open concept living room and kitchen, she finds Matt and Severide making breakfast. She's assuming Stella's still asleep.

Matt looks up as she approaches the kitchen island. He scoops the scrambled eggs into a bowl and then rounds the island to meet her halfway, greeting her with a quick and casual peck to her lips. "Good morning."

"Morning," she replies, winding her arms around his waist.

"How'd you sleep?" He asks, mimicking her stance and holding her in return.

"Wonderful. I had you to keep me nice and toasty all night. That's always my favorite."

Severide's face pinches as he fixes his breakfast plate. "Alright, take it back to his room. I don't need to hear the bed sharing specifics."

Sylvie narrows her eyes at him and sticks out her tongue, leaning into the bratty little sister role she's found herself playing when it comes to her boyfriend's best friend. "Why do we have to take it somewhere else? You have a room too."

"Yeah, but my name is on the lease so..."

"Alright, that's enough of this weird sibling act," Matt says cutting Severide off with a laugh. "Go wake up Stella before breakfast gets cold. We need to leave for the firehouse soon anyway."

"He's only interrupting me because he knows I'm right. For the record," Severide says as he turns and leaves the kitchen.

"You guys leave for the firehouse together?" Sylvie asks Matt. She's never slept over the night before a shift before, but today was different. Today, it made sense.

"We take separate cars but yeah we leave together. Are you ready for a shift at 51?" He asks, leading her to the kitchen so they can both make a plate.

"As I'll ever be. I'm excited to work with Mikami. Shay raves about her. Says she really knows her stuff. I just hope everything goes well for Shay today. If anyone deserves a promotion it's her." Since that first shift Shay covered for her, the two of them have become fast friends. Today, Sylvie's repaying Shay's initial favor and covering 61.

"Have you thought about what she suggested at Molly's last night?"

"What? You mean me filling her PIC spot if she gets promoted to AC?" Sylvie bites her bottom lip and then shakes her head. "I have a little but...do you think that's a good idea? Us being in a relationship and working together? You don't think anyone will have an issue with the optics of that?"

"Optics of what?" Matt asks, following her to the kitchen table to eat. "You wouldn't be directly under my command. You've got an AC and Paramedic Field Chief for that."

"In my experience, the actual chain of command doesn't really matter," Sylvie mutters as they sit.

"Okay, I hear you," Matt reluctantly admits. "I know Kidd's had some weird run ins with a couple of guys even though she and Severide are on different rigs. If people are gonna be ignorant and rude logic hardly ever stops them. If you decide you don't want to, I'd understand, but keep an open mind. See how today feels. Deal?"

"Deal," she agrees, leaning over and kissing Matt's cheek. "For you."

Later, with 12 hours of a shift at 51 under her belt, Sylvie can admit Matt's house is exceptional. The team at 40 is full of good people, but they're not as close knit as 51. Violet is a great partner. A little green but extremely knowledgable. And, most importantly, Chief Boden nor anyone else at 51 cares that she's dating Matt. It doesn't affect how she does her job so it had no bearing on what they think of her.

During a quiet moment, she's sitting with Matt in his quarters and watching everyone else at 51 go about their day. None of them pay her a bit of attention as she lounges on Matt's cot while he finishes up his paperwork. When she was dating Greg at 40, everyone seemed to stare at her constantly. They watched her every move as if waiting for any sign Grainger might favor her over anyone else.

She assumed that was normal. That every house would be that way. It's odd knowing that assumption was wrong. Is this house the exception or the rule? She's never worked anywhere but 51 or 40 so it's hard for her to say.

"I can hear you thinking," Matt says before he turns in his chair to look at her. "What's going on over there?"

"My last experience dating an officer was...uncomfortable. Not because of Grainger. He was fine. But the people around us watching us like a hawk. I braced myself for an uninvited opinion every day," she confesses. "And I thought that was normal."

Matt nods, listening intently. "Thought? Past tense?"

"Your house hasn't asked me a single question about you or batted an eye when we interacted or touched. They only care about our relationship as much as they need to in order to make sure you're happy. That's...mind blowing, honestly."

The grin he points at her is slow and full of understanding. "Yeah, 51 has that effect on people, a lot."

"I was worried working together and dating would put added pressure on us and burst our little honeymoon phase bubble. I've had relationships fall apart over less, you know?" She idly plays with her watch band as she debates continuing.

Is she on the verge of too much, too soon? Should she quit while she's ahead? No, she's done softening her feelings for the sake of a man she's dating. She did that with Greg and ended up staying with him too long passed their expiration date. If anything is ever going to work out for her, it'll take her being honest to make it happen.

"And I really don't want this to fall apart. I haven't been this crazy about a person in a very long time." She takes a deep steadying breath as she finishes telling her truths and impatiently waits for Matt's reaction.

She doesn't have to wait long. He relocates from his chair to the bunk next to her and takes both of her hands in his, smiling so warmly his eyes wrinkle at the corners. "I haven't been this crazy about a person in a long time either, and we're not going to fall apart. Especially not because of any outside opinions. We're the only ones that really know how we are together and how we feel about each other. I'm not gonna let anyone, at 51 or otherwise, take that from us. Trust me on that one."

His certainty and determination send thrilling little shocks coursing through her bloodstream. She feels buzzy. Almost as if she's had a double shot of espresso, but she hasn't. No, she's got something much better: private doses of Matt Casey that she has access to whenever she wants. The more time she spends with him, the harder and faster she falls.

"Oddly enough, I do trust you. Completely."

"Good," he says, lifting the back of her hand to his lips for a quick and subtle kiss. He's aware people could be watching and he's sensitive to her worries. Most guys wouldn't be. But Matt Casey is the best of the best. Of course, he remembers and acts accordingly.

God, she's in big trouble. This man is going to own her heart before too long and, once he has it, she knows she won't be getting it back.

#brettsey #sylvie brett #matt casey #matt casey x sylvie brett #captainfluffypants #prompt fic #my fic #angellwings writes

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ritzy-reminiscence · 1 year ago

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─♣️─ Lackadaisy : Shut-Eye

⸝⸝ tl;dr : some sleeping (not that type) headcanons for Rocky, Freckle, and Ivy! ⸝⸝ note : i found the unfinished version of this rotting at the bottom of my drafts, so i decided to dredge it up from the shadows and give it a proper rebirth, hope u enjoy :DD

🥞 Roark "Rocky" Rickaby

Sleep ? What's that ?

Nah, but on the off-chance that he does manage to get some shut-eye, he does it either a) sitting down on the driver's seat of the car, or b) on his side in the back seats, with the windows ever so slightly open. Granted, it's not very comfortable (especially with that cactus "friend" staring into his soul the entire night).

He does have a blanket, but it's so ragged and torn that it might as well be a piece of cloth he could wipe the car down with. Regardless, he still uses it anyways, even if it means that half his lower body sticks out and is prone to being snatched by the boogeyman under the car seats.

Needless to say, he doesn't get much sleep (sobs). He weaves in and out of consciousness, and doesn't get more than three or four hours each night. It doesn't help that the space totally regular coffee he infuses with pancake syrup gives him enough energy to last into the next decade --

•☽────✧ ‧˚₊ ° ♣️ ° ₊˚‧✧────☾• ₊° ♣️ °₊ •☽────✧ ‧˚₊ ° ♣️ ° ₊˚‧✧────☾•

🥪 Calvin "Freckle" McMurray

On the nights when he's not haunted by his atrocious sins, he normally gets a decent seven to eight hours in.

If otherwise, however, he's just like Rocky ! They are cousins, after all. The only difference between him and Rocky is that Freckle tosses and turns for an absurd amount of time before finally falling asleep.

And on the topic of tossing and turning -- I also see Freckle as a "read books before going to bed" type of guy. I'd go into detail about what books he read, but that's for another time because I don't want this post to be too long lolz (and totally not because I haven't the faintest idea at all-)

Freckle sleeps on his side, curled up under the covers. He enjoys it especially during winter when being under the covers feel warm and toasty. The same can't be said for summer, however :skull:

I feel like he'd also be the type that, once asleep, would be so hard to wake up. He sleeps like a log, and the only thing waking him up is either his alarm clock, Nina gently knocking on his door to wake him up, or Rocky throwing rocks pebbles at his window.

•☽────✧ ‧˚₊ ° ♣️ ° ₊˚‧✧────☾• ₊° ♣️ °₊ •☽────✧ ‧˚₊ ° ♣️ ° ₊˚‧✧────☾•

🩰 Ivy Pepper

Psshh, you know this gal gets her full eight hours; after all, who wouldn't after performing a thirty-minute meditation session in a room filled with vased flowers and the scent of her dormmates' perfume wafting from their vanity tables? Ivy Pepper gets her eight hours, all the time.

Or, at least, that's what she tells herself and others --

In reality, Ivy stays up late due to either a) some juicy gossip's been spreading around the dorms, b) she's got her paws on the latest edition of Vogue and she's just gotta finish it !! or c) she's mulling over her own problems regarding her involvement with the less than legal actions of the Lackadaisy Speakeasy. Especially after her conversation w/ Elsa at the Arbogasts' funeral home; in the daytime she manages to keep such thoughts at bay, but once everything starts to quiet down it begins to scratch, talon-like, at her conscience.

When she does get herself to sleep, however, she prefers the room cold. Like, freezing cold. It's because, like Freckes, she likes to snuggle under the covers (I mean, who doesn't?). Unlike Freckles, however, she sleeps on her back, with one of those frilly sleeping masks on. She's read in a magazine somewhere that sleeping on your back reduces the amount of puffiness your face gets when she woke up, so she does exactly that.

#୨୧ solari-writes ! ₊˚#lackadaisy #lackadaisy headcanons #lackadaisy fanfiction #rocky rickaby #ivy pepper #calvin mcmurray #rocky rickaby headcanons #ivy pepper headcanons #calvin mcmurray headcanons #might make a next part ??#maybe #depends on how this posts goes lol #but eitherway i might do it just to fill up my blog again

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cookies-over-yonder · 1 year ago

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i don't know how to say this, 'cause you're really my dearest friend

Five times Taylor and Link almost kissed, and one time they finally did.

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | +1 | ao3

[title from Jenny (I Wanna Ruin Our Friendship) by Studio Killers]

6. The sixth time was… well, you'll see.

◇

Link lays awake with his eyes wide open, staring at the ceiling.

On Taylor's bed.

And Taylor is lying down beside him.

They had already agreed on sharing the bed, so Link didn't bring a sleeping bag like the others.

He's under the covers, warm and toasty, and his heart's beating a mile a minute.

After seven minutes in heaven, Taylor tried to convince everyone to keep playing truth or dare, but they all ended up watching a movie instead.

Taylor and Link sat beside each other still, but no physical contact was made.

Link isn't sure that Taylor has even looked him in the eyes since then.

The tension was thick, and as far as Link knows, it still is now.

Well, they almost kissed…

It's not like they can just bounce back from that like nothing happened. Right?

And if Scary had opened the door just a second later…

Link pulls himself out from under the covers and lies on top of them instead, pressing his hands against his face.

What if Taylor never looks him in the eyes again?

Will things be awkward forever?

Next to him, Taylor shifts, and Link brings his hands away from his eyes.

Taylor always looks peaceful when he's asleep, Link knows that, so when he turns to look, two glowing eyes staring back catch him off guard.

But then Taylor's eyes shut in an instant, and Link would pause to wonder if they'd ever been open at all if it weren't for Taylor's deliberate avoidance of eye contact today.

"Taylor," Link whispers.

No response. No movement.

"Taylor, I know you're awake. You can't avoid me forever."

His eyes stay closed, but…

"I'm not avoiding you," he whispers back.

"Come on, you haven't even looked at me since… you know."

"Since I kabedon-ed you in the closet, shoujo manga–style?"

Link can't help but chuckle at the way Taylor puts his hands over his cheeks when they get all red.

"Yeah."

Taylor's hands move to cover his eyes now. "Oh god. Oh my god."

Sitting up, Link gently lifts Taylor's hands off his face, holding them, and finally, Taylor opens his eyes to look right at him.

Link smiles. "Hey."

Still blushing hard, Taylor frowns. "Hi."

Whatever Link is about to say gets caught in his throat, because Taylor is looking at him with his wide and glowing eyes, and he's biting his lip—a nervous stim of his, Link has noticed, but with how sharp his teeth are, his lips end up getting rather damaged.

"I'm sorry," Taylor blurts out.

"Huh?"

Now Taylor sits up and across from Link, pulling his hands away.

He scoots back so he's up against the wall, and wraps his arms around his torso.

"I just acted on impulse back there—I mean, I do that a lot, but it was different," he explains, and then he bites his lip and mumbles, "I don't know, something came over me."

"Do you still want to—"

"Yes!" Taylor clasps a hand over his mouth. It was rather loud. "I mean… if you… like if you don't want to that's totally cool, but—"

There's just something about Taylor getting all flustered and scrambling to find the words to get across what Link is sure he already knows.

The way he waves around his hands trying to make it make sense and get out the excess energy is endearing.

The way his eyes glow, but even before, even in broad daylight, there's still a sparkle in them—a passionate sparkle. Taylor has enough spirit in him for the entire group, maybe even an entire army. It's never ending, and it's so charming.

And the little strand of hair covering his eye—Link is slowly becoming more and more sure that he does it on purpose to look like an anime character… it's really cute.

Taylor is always so sure of himself. What he knows, who he is, what he wants. It's inspiring. And his energy and attitude is just what Link needs to keep his mood lifted and his mind from racing. Link has felt a sort of pull toward Taylor, but it's only gotten stronger as the time has passed by.

Link knows… he knows he was ready for what would have happened earlier. It's not like it had never crossed his mind, but it's not like one can just go and kiss their best friend out of nowhere when they feel like it.

It's definitely not something he would do out of nowhere. But Taylor… Taylor is impulsive. And bold. Link isn't like that. If anything, he was relieved when Taylor was so forward about wanting the same thing as him, because Link isn't someone who would just go for it.

The only goals he chases are the ones he can achieve by kicking a ball into a net. It's realistic. There's no unpredictable feelings involved. Only predictable and unbreakable laws of physics.

Anything else is out of the question.

But before Link really knows it, he's tucking that strand of hair behind Taylor's ear again.

And leaning in.

And cutting him off…

…with a kiss.

Whoa.

Link's hands are cupping Taylor's face, and Taylor's arms make their way to rest on Link's shoulders.

And Taylor is warm. His arms are warm, his face is warm, and his lips…

His lips are warm.

They're dry, and chapped, and a little bit scratchy from the scabs, but they're warm.

Somehow, Link feels his mind get simultaneously hazy and unbelievably clear.

Hazy from a rush of what he knew was creeping up on him, but now the feeling is as clear as ever.

All of the nerves he had before are drowned out by the knowledge that this is exactly where he needs to be and exactly what he needed to do.

All the tension in his shoulders dissipates, and he can feel Taylor relax into it too.

He's kissing Taylor.

Taylor is kissing him.

At last, they meet in the middle.

The hands once on Taylor's face slide down to the small of his back, pulling him closer, and Link knows it isn't a real magic spell at play, but he can feel Taylor's energy and spirit as if the kiss transfers it—slowly leaking through and flooding his arteries and veins, making his blood thick and sweet like honey.

An undiscovered, undying craving is finally satiated.

And it's warm. It's different. It's a warmth Link has never known.

It's a warmth with which he never wants to part.

But when Link is out of breath, he breaks away, and Taylor falls forward a little, blinking slowly before looking up at him, mouth agape.

Taylor, a shining ball of light, looks absolutely starstruck.

"...'but' what?" Link asks between breaths… smirking just a little.

The glint in Taylor's eyes and the big, sharp toothy grin on his face are worth everything.

And when he giggles, the sound is enough to make Link want to do it again.

Taylor pulls him back in by the collar of his shirt.

♡

#swiftli #dndads #fic #kiss #taylor swift dndads #lincoln li-wilson #5+1 #cookies writes and cookies wrongs #this is my gift to you all before the new episode #im terrified SHLAHAAKSHDHD #i make boys kiss to cope ^_^♡#thanks so much everyone for your support i really appreciate it♡

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softxsuki · 3 years ago

Note

I know you have a lot of requests to go through and I’m sorry and I have an urgent request Drabble/one-shot for Eren due to feeling sad, mellow, moody, and dealing with “that time of the month” problem can I request a fluff/comfort of Eren x Reader where Eren is laying on the couch in front of the fireplace watching TV and having snacks with a blanket covering his bare body until he sees Y/N feeling sad and about to cry. Seeing Y/N is feeling stressed and in pain, Eren (part 1/2 of request)

Eren Comforts Sad Reader Who's On Her Period

Pairing: Eren x Fem!Reader

Warnings: mentions of reader having her period, cramps, reader feeling sad, reader feeling stressed, crying, kissing, shirtless Eren lol

Genre: Comfort, Fluff

Post-Type: Oneshot

Word Count: 1k

Summary: In which you feel sad and stressed from life (?) and your painful period cramps are only making you feel worse. You go to Eren and he full on pampers you to have you feeling better quickly.

[A/N: Hey 🌙anon! Sorry for the wait. It was a busy week, and every time I sat down to write this, SOMEONE needed my help in my household. Thankfully I was able to finish it today though! I hope it helps you through this time of the month. Periods are terrible. I hate them so much, so uncomfortable for no reason, like just send me a postcard in the mail that I'm not pregnant. THaNkS. ANYWAY, I hope this provides you with some comfort <3]

Eren sat on the living room couch, munching on some popcorn as his attention was on the TV screen in front of him that was playing a random movie. The fireplace was blazing, keeping the inside of your shared home warm and toasty from the lingering spring chill outside.

You had been locked away in your shared bedroom, telling Eren earlier on in the day that you just needed some space to relax. Your period had started earlier that morning, sending a wave of cramps that had hit you painfully hard.

After spending practically the whole day in your room trying to sleep your pain away, you eventually started feeling lonely lying in your room on your own knowing your boyfriend was around. So, you weakly get out of bed and drag yourself to the living room where Eren was still seated.

“Eren?” You practically squeak by the doorway, wondering if he could even hear you over the volume of the TV.

Thankfully he does as he lowers the volume on the TV and spins around to take in your form by the entrance of the living room. He greets you with a smile, happy to see you finally out of the bedroom, but his smile fades when he takes in your appearance; bags under your eyes and tears threatening to spill from them as you hold your lower abdomen, wincing every time a cramp hits you.

“C’mere,” he coo’s patting the spot beside him on the couch as he lifts the blanket up slightly, inviting you under the warmth.

You don’t hesitate to accept his invitation, scooting under the covers with him as he makes sure you're fully covered by the blanket before gently wiping away your tears that had slowly begun to fall.

“It’s okay angel you can let it all out.”

And you do. You stuff your face into his chest, as tears continue to pour from your eyes, muffled sobs escaping your lips as you let all your sadness, stress, and tears from the pain of your period cramps out. Eren holds you firmly to his chest, softly patting your head as his other hand rubs soothing circles into the surface of your back. It broke his heart to see you so sad and in pain. He’d do anything to take that pain away from you and give it to himself instead if he could. But while you were crying in his arms, he remained still, his sole focus on trying to calm you down.

Many tears later with Eren whispering reassuring words into your hair, you finally quiet down as your tears run dry. The only sound that echoes in the living room aside from the crackle of the fireplace is your shaky breath, the aftermath of your sobbing.

“How’re you feeling now?” Eren asks, his fingers absentmindedly running through your hair as you cling to him.

“I think I really needed that crying session. I feel a lot better emotionally, but I still have horrible cramps,” you wince as another wave of pain shoots through you.

“Well I’m glad you’re no longer crying at least,” he presses a gentle, lingering kiss to the top of your head and moves the blanket completely over you as he excuses himself and gets up from the couch, “I’ll be right back. Give me a second.”

Your eyes follow his shirtless form, though it was freezing outside, Eren had the bad habit (is it really bad? C’mon now) of walking around without a shirt as he felt like wearing one around the house was too constricting. You watch him until he disappears behind the wall and heads in the direction of the kitchen, leaving you alone on the couch as you curl up into a ball under the blanket that he left you. You can hear him moving around in the kitchen and a few minutes later he returns and takes a seat by your side.

“Here you go, take this first,” he hands you a few pills along with a small glass of water as he places a mug on the table, “And here’s your treat for after you take the pills.”

He waves a bar of dark chocolate in the air, which instantly catches your attention. You quickly swallow your pain relievers, with a bit of the water and hold your hand out so he can give you the chocolate, which he happily hands you.

“I also made you some chamomile tea to go with your chocolate,” he points to the mug on the coffee table, “I figured it could help you feel a little more relaxed.”

“Seriously, thank you Eren. You’re the best,” you praise him, content with the sweet treat as he once again gets under the covers with you.

While you eat your chocolate and sip at your tea, Eren brings his caring to another level as he takes out some calming oil and asks you to lift your shirt a bit. You feel his warm hands over your abdomen as he gently massages the oil into your skin, praying your pain melts away soon. He slowly moves to your back, knowing that women can sometimes get lower back pain with their period as well. His hands are rough to the touch, but his movements are gentle yet precise, each rub to your skin has you melting under his touch as all the pain and stresses you felt earlier vanish from your body. You feel utterly relaxed and at peace as Eren takes care of you.

When he finishes, you spin around and pepper kisses to his lips before jumping at him for a hug, “Thanks for everything,” you mumble into his chest.

“Of course angel, anything for you,” he grins, leaning back as he kisses you, his lips lingering for a little longer than necessary, but you weren’t complaining.

His kisses were pure bliss; they alone could rid you of any pain or sadness that you felt. You were beyond lucky to be able to call him yours.

“Shall we watch something together then?”

“Oh yess! I think they released a new episode of our favorite anime!” You excitedly explain, getting comfortable against him as he searches for the episode.

You were glad to be back to normal and no longer bothered that much by your cramps, but Eren kept his warm hands on your abdomen, allowing the heat to provide you with even more comfort as you both watched the screen. It turned out to be a great night, to say the least.

REQUESTS ARE OPEN :D

Posted: 4/6/2022

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muffindaddystyles · 3 years ago

Text

Someone hurts Y/N at work; and Harry’s owner of the company.

Angry young man CEO!H very protective of his lovie :)))))))))))))

It was Tuesday. Tiring Tuesday is what Y/N calls them to be because they lurk in the middle of week and drags you after a Monday. Today, it’s the worst fucking Tuesday since the day she started working at this company.

Harry offered her. More to say tried to convince her with his sweet puppy tactics, tried to lure her in with his seductive begging and would mumble the same thing in her sweaty neck while balls deep in her, “Please sweet toots ... promise I wouldn’t be there to take ye' interview, please work in my company.” He squished her sides in desperation. Y/N whined, mind too occupied in the way he’s leaking into her, the head of his cock angled to rub at her spongy wall making her hug herself into him.

“I could be a very hard boss in my office, ‘s all ‘m saying.” He wiggled his brows at her playfully, hissing when his double joke earned him a tight fit around his prick and he was soon forgetting all of it when she canted her hips to let him slick deeper inside her.

It’s not that; Y/N doesn’t wants to work at his company. When her boyfriend asked her so sweetly and stout-heartedly. Call him a sap but he actually wants to be closer to her in every possible chance he gets – she gives him an unyielding amount of comfort and happiness when she’s with him.

There’s this silver of pride he wants to take (since he’s the biggest narcissists) in being a power couple, because in the end everything will be theirs.

But she doesn’t want to seem like she took advantage of him. She didn’t study and worked hard many years to be called dependent on her boyfriend. She wanted to find her first proper job herself – feel all the odds and jitters of her firsts after UNI.

Harry called the battles off knowing his little stubborn baby’s too much a wiggler and he believes in her and he’s very proud of her previous achievements, he just wants to see her happy working with him or not.

She indeed got it. She was finally a design editor at a grand magazine company, excited to meet her boss who’s one of her absolute favourite graphic designers in the industry.

Harry and her celebrated her baby step towards her success by going out at this cafe which had cats you can pet and love on.

He was blissed to see her this happy, considering it a win win situation. But she doesn’t need to know? Does she? And Harry didn’t do anything suspicious? Did he? Nobody even know who she's! And if Y/N wants that, he’ll have it that way.

Soon her enthusiasm deflated like a sorrowful balloon whirling in the air for seconds before falling on the ground and getting it’s existence neglected, because, her boss was the meanest bitch alive.

At the moment, Y/N forced the pertinacious lump of pathetic tears down her throat, not blinking to dry out the moisture threatening to fall from her waterline feeling humiliation creep up her skin and making her want to shrink into herself and never show her face.

She listens patiently and optimistically as her boss practically screams at her for not liking the designs Y/N worked to modify for damn 62 hours and the Karen still had an audacity to degrade, Y/N.

Y/N gasped, stumbling back in fright shock when the file that had her precious designs composed in it flew and hit Y/N, the ragged corner of it scratching Y/N’s delicate skin and her boss was spinning away from her to stare coldly at the bustling city outside through the window drowning into fumes and anger.

Y/N opened her mouth, guppy like. Wanting to say something back and call her out on her act but she felt like her voice got strangled into her chest.

ShitShitShitShit.

Hammering in her brain when she felt something warm oozing from her skin and she’s panicking, wiping a vicious streak of blood from her jaw with her trembly fingers and scuttled straight to the washroom before anyone was able to see her in such vulnerable condition.

She had enough of it and left out of there without a word to anyone, not even to her cubby mate. She bottled all the emotions that were rattling against her bones to flood out of her each pore, until she could reach her home and once she did she was having a humongous and ominously scary breakdown, glad that Harry was stuck in meetings and the house was all of hers to cry ugly.

Once she was all blue lips, puffy and swelled up cheeks and eyes, nest of a hairstyle and all burned up lungs she was calming herself down with deep breaths just Harry taught her.

Scrubbing and cleaning herself off then going to bed without waiting for Harry, something very rare and the right hit in the nail for him to know she isn’t feeling well.

He was welcomed by silence. No dinner, just leftovers in fridge and his insides became all crummy and not very pleasant when he tailed to the living room and wasn’t met by his lovebug; either cramming her head to sketch down designs with an ipad in her lap while a buzz of random Netflix show accompanies her, dossing off cutely with hundreds of her study journals and magazines messed around her on the floor, or her in sleeping pyjamas with food already set up on the coffee table and brightening the whole room with her squeals when Harry announces his presence.

None of that instead he finds her in their bedroom, drowned under layers of blankies and her stuffies with room lit dark.

He coos softly, mattress dipping down from his weight and his heart expands and melts all around his other organs at how adorable she looks sleeping in his hoodie. He chuckles shaking his head at the way she has the strings of the hoodie squeezed around her head, not sure how she’s able to breath at how tight it seems around her neck.

Doing his own routine he was slipping into the bed, sighing from the warmth and how toasty she has made the bed already.

He bunched her against his chest and kissed her head then spooned her up in his arms, lips fluttering into a smile when she hummed and sniffed basking into his scent.

“Oi sleepy.” He whispers down at her cupping her neck and giggles softly when she whines mushing her cheek against his chest only to grunt sleepily and muffle her yelps into his sweatshirt.

Harry’s brows shoots up into slight bafflement then dips down into a frown when he slipped his calloused palm under her hoodie to cradle her jaw and felt something graze against his thumb that was about to press into her soft skin to bring her for a night kiss.

“Hey...” He perches himself on elbows, switching on the lamps and ignores her groans grasping the blanket she was about to pull over herself, huffing at him to let her sleep but Harry’s more stubborn than her if it involves assuring himself she’s okay and right now she’s not and Harry was already feeling it in his bones.

“Lemme see.” He persists gently, peeling the blankets and the hoodie off her head while she’s still stirring into sleep not able to open her eyes how much she tries because of the exhaustion dumped on her from whole day.

He stares at the wound she did a shit effort to cover with a gauze messily over her jaw and tiny bit area of her neck, a long bandage reaching to her ear and Harry tries to think rationally and not freak out as he touches it with cautious fingertips.

“What ... the –- fuck, Y/N what is...is this?” His mouth falls slack. His ears buzzing for a moment and he wraps his arm around her shoulder to bring her up as he leans them against the bedhead.

He feels bad when she knuckles at her eyes warily and mumbles something that’s barely audible.

“What happened, baby? Talk t’me? How did y'hurt yourself so bad?” Worried and fearful. He bombs her with questions not waiting for her to be fully awake and his heart breaks miserly upon focusing his gaze on her face, her angelic face that’s now soaked with sadness –- she’s been crying.

His loves been crying and he wasn’t there for her.

“Who did this to you?” Y/N's eyes widens abruptly. The alertness in them vivid for Harry to see under the lamp glow and she gasps, nose twitching and lip wobbling as Harry grabbed her chin and ducked to her eyelevel to ask her tenderly with a layer of strictness under his tone, “’M asking, Who did this to you, Y/N?” Her fragile heart could already take so much and she strangled out a sob lowering her head down in embarrassment.

“’M.. I’m —-.. no –..not telli –-..telling you,” She hiccups breathlessly, shaky fingers fisting onto the blanket thrown over Harry’s lap and he holds her hands kissing them gently, “I’ll know it one way or another baby. Don’t force me to get outta my way to find —–“ His soul stabbing glare was enough for Y/N to ramble and at first he thought he didn’t heard her right, that she was mumbling too much but when the reality seeped in gradually Harry almost froze in his spot.

“I know it’s very shameful —..” Y/N stammers barely able to get in a breather and Harry’s head snapped at her words, removing his nails away from making little graves in his palms and his jaw which almost felt like breaking from the hinges from how painfully furious he had it set relaxes as he tries to calm himself down and not to grab his keys and drive to that bitch's house to trash her place.

Because how fucking dare she treat anyone like that in his own fucking company.

“Hey, hey. Now none of that toots. Look at me darling, oh my sweet moppet ... shh.” It slices his heart in pain to see Y/N like this -- so small and disheartened. How dare she hurt his such delicate, sweet, loving girl like that? How!?

“You shouldn’t be ashamed of yourself moppet. She should be, fo’ being such a heartless prick.” He spat, his guts full of bitter and hatred. His skin hot, his grip on her tightening protectively and his chin quivers trying to lock all his anger inside and not to burst out like a pressure cooker.

“I’ll deal with her tomorrow.” He nods curtly to himself, poking his tongue to wet his grimacing lips and Y/N was too woolly to get what’s he’s saying.

His gaze flitters back on her. His demeanour turned incredibly soft and gentle for her smooching a big generous kiss to her salty lips and then to both of her cheeks cared in both of his palms, “Are y'okay? D'you want me to take you to hospital?” She shakes her head mewling and melting and caressing herself into his wrist.

“Why didn’t you call me baby?” He asks her doing anything in his power to mask the hurt in his tone and sighs touching his forehead to her's when Y/N sniffled, “Didn’t wan’ you to worry.” He slid his forearm under her bum and scooched her atop of him, patching tiny careful pecks to her jaw.

“But, that’s love moppet. Worryin’ bout you, takin’ care of ye' and beating anyone raw who even dares to have evil intentions towards you,”

“Remember the time y'snubbed that one guy’s oh so expensive shoes who was very rude to me at one of your graduations party?” His simper turning into a proper ironic grin when she giggled hoarsely nodding along and the tension in his muscles released watching her getting better.

“Proper broke his big toe with your heel darling.” He giggles with her and then Y/N realised how sad and awful Harry’s feeling, how it’s hurting him the same way it hurt her an year ago.

“How about we have a glass of milk .... it’ll help us sleep less grumpy y'know.” He murmurs in the crook of her neck, elbow cocooned safely around her shoulder blade as he kisses the side of her head again and again nose buried in her hair to smell her treacly smell.

In the morning he was tragic to hear Y/N sound so heartbroken and dejected as she told him, “I’m going to resign and accept your offer.” Her smile small and sad, hugging him looping her limbs around his torso lazily.

“’kay baby, but first eat your brekkie.” He kissed her hair and squished her pout when he moved away to make some calls to his assistant.

Y/N had no-idea what he was upto. Glad that he was driving her to the company and that he was immensely supportive of her decision, her insides pooled with warmth and giddiness when he tried to cheer her up with his silly jokes and singing along the radio murmuring rubbish whenever he forgot the lyrics.

She was utterly confused when upon reaching he was giving the keys to valet boy to park his car and interviewing their fingers in a strong grip before leading her inside, even though she should be the one to do so.

She sputters a, “Huh?” when instead of telling her he’d wait for her in the lobby he’s rounding the corner towards the elevators and turns his wrist to push her infront of him to keep her closer to himself all the time.

When the doors are sliding apart the people scurrying outside halts for a moment, not looking Harry in eyes and keeping their heads low.

Phones were already rung in the building that Mr. Styles will be coming un-announced and everyone should be prepared to face the consequences if they stumble upon him – because well he isn’t in such a nice mood to start with.

“Harry.” She pokes him in ribs feebly, stepping away from him feeling timid due to few pair of eyes in elevator watching her awkwardly and maybe judgingly.

The tension in space could be cut through knife, as if everyone’s holding their breaths and she pouts taking a good look at Harry who’s smirking smugly confident in his element.

Do they all think her boyfriend’s way too intimidating and out of reach for them? They should know he’s such a sweetie!

Y/N huffs. Folding her arms over chest when Harry paws at her hips and pulls her back against his chest resting his chin atop of her head with a shit eating grin.

In all seriousness. Showing them that’s she’s his's and belongs under his wings, which will keep her safe and protected till his death.

“How did you know my boss's office’s on tenth floor?” She squints up at him suspiciously.

“Hmm. Dunno, moppet. Magical powers or summat?” He teases her, putting a hand at the small of her back to nudge her forward making her blush pink and ducks down to whisper in her ear, “You got this toots.” Biting her earlobe playfully to stroke down her anxiety upon sensing her hesitancy to step in the hallway that has cubicles lined up.

He already got this. He ordered his assistant to get the resign letter ready and showing her who’s the boss here’s not much of hurdle for him.

It’s weird. Bloody weird. Y/N wants to turn back and run away because the moment they step inside the whole damn hallway falls eerily pin drop silent and everyone’s peeking up from the short walls of their cubicles and then diverting their eyes immediately in embarrassment and apology seeing Harry behind her.

The ones who’re standing bows their heads lightly in respect for him and scurrying away to give him a way and that’s insanely surprising and weird.

Harry on the other hand was no stranger to those bogey looks. Of curiosity, uneasiness and dread when he passes through the crowd of his employs. Y/N is.

Slowly perhaps. It starts to sink in— jumbled and disoriented when she looks back at Harry. He’s keeping his head held high and shoulders tilted back with poise and conceitedness, hands stuffed into the pockets of his pants and because though it makes him look like a proper snob— he is their boss and the owner of this company, he should act like one.

“Mr. Styles.” Y/N’s boss assistant Marina who’s usually very chirpy (and undeserving of all the yelling she gets from her boss) turns pale at Harry’s presence. She’s the only person Y/N's very keen of, now she’s fretting towards them with her head lowered and tries to stammer something but Harry’s walking past her with his lips pursued as he goes inside without knocking.

“Harry...” Y/N tattles behind him, lunging to clutch onto the hem of his suits coat, to scold him to stop babying her and let her handle it herself, too late since she’s already meeting with the sight of her overly stressed and upset boss.

Her knees almost gives in when Harry snaps his fingers for the employees that were inside to give them privacy and takes in the most relaxing breath of oxygen, feeling a gag of bitterness in his mouth from even looking at her.

Y/N gasped. Her boss (which she’s not sure is her boss anymore) gasped. The sweet assistant Marina gasped. When Harry told her in the most composing way– though his blood’s boiling absolutely sheathing through his veins.

“You’re fired.” His demeanour cold and voice monotone not giving a fuck how much she shakes and cries for his forgiveness.

“Mr. Styles. I..I can explain–-" She stammers rushing from the back of her desk and stops obediently when Harry gestures her to not to take another step forward.

“There’s no excuse for abuse. I don’t want your lame explanations, I can’t have an abusive asshole running my company for me ... we might be strict on our employees but we aren’t monsters.” He grits, his eyes flaring piercingly with rage and showing no empathy towards her as she pleads him to forgive her mistake– those bricks of money makes you work baby.

“You hurt someone so dearly to me ‘n think I’ll forgive ye'?” The assistance eye’s blows away at newfound information, Harry Styles love of life’s none other than Y/N. The girl she used to have smoked sandwiches and milkshakes with in their lunch breaks.

“I didn’t know ...” He chuckles ironically at her hypocrisy and that’s the last straw for him before he’s threatening her to call the security and she’s getting out of there cursing him under her breath but Harry grabs her from elbow roughly, conceding his brow at her dauntingly.

"Apologise to her right fuckin' now."

"Sorry, Mrs Styles. I'm very ashamed of what I did." She says nervously and Y/N nods not able to speak from the butterflies that are flapping around her stomach, which sure didn't go unnoticed at Harry's side and he smirks at Y/N.

When they’re left alone. Jovial cackles are bouncing against the walls and he’s pressing his hip to the desk, securing his hands around his triceps as he folds his arms infront of his chest entertaining himself to the cute and fuzzy reactions of his girl at what just happened.

“See. Told ya, nobody could defy my bossiness at work.” He grins at her, jerking his hand towards his chest to usher her closer to him and boops her nose smacking an obnoxiously loud kiss to her mouth when she toddles in his arms.

“The offers still there,” He looks down at her cheekily and she shakes her head, a small smile kicking up her lips at his determination and devotion.

“Couldn’t say no to you, could I? What will you be owning secretly next time?” She nips at him, planting her palms firmly against his midriff feeling the crispiness of his shirt underneath his jacket.

“A bakery shop ....?” He muses in the most pondering voice and she scoffs at him through pattering of giggles, “Suck it up Mr. Styles.”

“Hey! I know my prick’s huge but not tha’ much for me to suck it myself.”

Y/N chokes onto her own spit. Shaking her head at him.

“Your innocent employees knows how vulgar you’re?”

“Uhmm. Infact, She gets very hot hearin’ me like tha'.” He bobs his head grinning at her wickedly and she smacks his shoulder, “Harry!”

“Yeahhh! Tell everyone how good I make you feel babbbyy—....” Y/N clamps her hand around his mouth to muffle his lewd fake moaning.

“You’re so embarrassing.” She grumbles wiping his spit sticking to her palm down her skirt and spins around to head for the door expecting him to follow her.

“You don’t talk to boss like that!” He trails behind her, “Boss my ass!” She quips out a squeal looking around to make sure that nobody saw it when Harry slapped her bum.

“Boss someone’s ‘bout to get a pink ass.”

#ceo!harry #ceo!h x y/n #ceo!h x reader #ceo!h x fem!reader #harry stylss angsty drabble #harry styles one shot #harry styles blurb #harry styles smut #harry styles #cute harry #harry smut #harry styles fanfiction #fluff #harry angst #hsh #dom harry

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mypoisonedvine · 4 years ago

Text

𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐮𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐫 || dark!Bucky Barnes & dark!Steve Rogers x reader

summary: a little fresh air never hurt anyone, right?

word count: 10.3k (yes, OVER TEN THOUSAND WORDS OF FILTH what is wrong with me)

warnings: noncon smut (incl. anal, oral m and f receiving, dp, and spitroasting), bondage/restraint (and a gag), some mild violence, lots of slapping, pussy spanking, forced orgasms, degradation/derogatory language, kinda kidnapping, a touch of stockholm syndrome?, very brief breeding kink, period-typical sexism (this is set in the late 60s but you wouldn't really be able to tell aside from that and the lack of technology)

a/n: the song that plays on the radio, and the song that just so happens to be the title of the fic, is by john lee hooker in case anyone wants the proverbial vibes

You needed a chance to clear your head every once in a while, that's what camping in the woods was for. It was the perfect time of year for it, too; the leaves were changing, the woodland animals were beginning to prepare for hibernation, and the weather was almost warm with a refreshing breeze that promised to bring the winter chill soon enough.

It was far from your first time in these woods, you knew the drive like the back of your hand by now, just as well as you knew how to hike down to the best places to set up camp.

You set down your pack and took in a deep breath of the crisp autumn air. No sounds except for the wind in the trees, the trickle of the creek, and your own thoughts which you found pleasantly blank. You'd chosen a spot by the creek, where you could spearfish on evenings that you felt especially adventurous, with a nice dirt patch perfect for a fire. The most dangerous thing about camping in the fall was that the dry leaves could catch flame so easily, so one of the key stages of setting up camp was raking away any foliage from your firepit, lest it become unintentional kindling.

The next order of business was finding a few dozen smooth stones to surround the fire, along with some logs and sticks to burn.

A knife and flint was just enough to speed up your firebuilding so that you had something solid going by nightfall, shedding your jacket to better feel the warmth as the flames grew and the sun set.

Sure, the woods could feel a little… creepy, at night, for lack of a better word, but it was more tranquil than anything. Most of the wildlife that was so active during the day stilled and silenced, bar the occasional owl’s hoot, so the loudest sounds were the crackling of your fire and the ever-present trickle of the creek. You heated your kettle for a cup of chamomile tea, something to help you get to sleep on the admittedly uncomfortable sleeping bag in your canvas tent.

The mug warmed your fingers as you filled and held it, and the steam warmed your face as you took a sip; but the contents warmed your chest, and your soul, as you contemplated the flavors; is it possible that tea tastes better when enjoyed in the quiet woods, mid-autumn?

You were already yawning by the time the mug was finished, so you set it aside and crawled into your tent, shedding the excessive layers and slipping between the fluffy down-stuffed layers of your bedroll. It was chilly at first but you knew your body heat would make it toasty all too soon, so you ignored the way you shivered as you fluffed your pillow and laid it under your head.

It was dark with only the fading light of your fire seeping in through the thick-weave canvas; and it was quiet, being the middle of the forest and all. One sound you didn’t expect were distant sirens, barely audible, which made you wonder if something had happened, but you couldn't know what so you didn't pay it much mind as you drifted to sleep.

The next morning came early, of course; as early as the sun rose, warm sunlight flooding through the canvas of your tent.

You enjoyed staying in the bed for a while, not so much because it was very comfortable (it wasn’t) but just because you wanted to relish having no need to get up yet. No job, no cleaning, no chores… though you were pretty hungry so that inspired you to get up and see about breakfast.

Slipping on a few more layers to protect yourself from the morning breeze, you opened your tent and stepped out into the woods, finding your fire had been reduced to a pile of embers meaning that you would need to find more wood to get it going for breakfast-cooking purposes. And that’s what you were about to do when you heard a snapping of twigs echo through the woods, making you glance up to the source of the noise.

Your back straightened instantly at the sight of two men, one with short blonde hair and the other’s dark and nearly to his shoulders, walking down the hill nearby just across the creek. They were still pretty distant, and yet they were much too close for comfort; close enough to see that these were not men one would want to encounter while alone in the woods.

They had new clothes— baggy and loose, almost certainly stolen— but it wasn’t enough to hide where they must’ve come from. They might as well have still been in jumpsuits with numbers on their chests.

The prison, just over five miles away. Had they really hiked this far? You kicked yourself now for ignoring the sirens last night.

You froze as they turned and caught your gaze, the three of you locked in a stare for a brief moment before one of them took a step forward: that was all the cause you needed to run like hell, turning on your heel and starting so fast you nearly slipped on the leaves beneath you. You heard them call out, chasing after you, but you focused on staring ahead and trying to remember the path back home, or at least to the road where someone might drive by to help you.

A root nearly caught your foot but you kept running, hating that you could hear them gaining on you since it didn’t actually seem to help you run any faster. You looked back and saw them much too close for comfort, but when you looked back ahead it was too late to avoid the tree right in front of you; you swerved but it still made you slip and almost fall.

But you didn’t fall. Someone caught you, and grabbed you, and pulled you into his oppressive form.

His arms held you painfully tight as his hand covered your mouth. "Gotcha," the man growled against your ear, licking the shell of it as you struggled against his grip.

Everything everyone had told you about why a lady shouldn’t camp alone in the woods suddenly flashed in your mind, your eyes squinting shut as you wished you had listened. All you could do now was kick wildly, swinging your legs in the air which didn't even do anything.

"Pretty little thing, aren't ya?” he purred as you saw the second man come into view— the blonde one, so you knew it was the one with long, dark hair that must’ve been holding you, giving you such a twisted compliment. “Just beggin' to be fucked right."

"Don't look so scared, sweetheart, we're not gonna hurt you…” the blonde man explained, “just play nice and we will too."

"Speak for yourself, Rogers," the man holding you snarled. "Been a long time since I got to feel a pussy, I wanna tear this little bitch up."

You sobbed and writhed as the one apparently called Rogers hushed you soothingly, trying to calm you. "Hey, just do what we say and it won't hurt alright? Just take it easy."

He stepped closer, reaching out towards you while you grunted and whined with every kick, smiling in a way that would’ve been soothing in nearly any other situation. He motioned to his partner who slowly lowered his hand from your mouth, and though your instinct was to scream you just heard yourself panting and whimpering instead.

“Did you hear me? We’re not gonna hurt you. We haven’t even introduced ourselves yet… I’m Steve, and this here is my cellmate— uh, friend— Barnes.”

“But you can call me Bucky, dollface,” the man behind you added with a little smile that you could hear and feel with him pressing up so close to your face.

“See, he and I just came from an awful, terrible place—”

“I know where you came from,” you cut him off with a snarl. “You’re criminals! You’re scum!”

Bucky just laughed and held you tighter until your arms started to ache from struggling against him.

“Hey now, you don’t know what you’re talking about,” Steve corrected firmly— not angry, but stern. “I was framed, I served seven years for something I didn’t do. You’re innocent, too, right Barnes?”

“No,” he instantly answered, making Steve look disappointed. “Oh, uh, sure. Yeah, I was framed. Real sob story,” he suddenly decided, not sounding like he was trying that hard to convince you.

“Point is, we were all alone for a long, long time, and we thought maybe you’d wanna be nice and take care of us, huh?” Steve offered.

“Fuck you,” you hissed.

“That’s sort of the idea,” Bucky whispered playfully.

“Let me go,” you demanded as Steve’s eyes widened and his nostrils flared, anger finally coming out when he suddenly grabbed your chin and held your face to look up at him.

“Let me make one thing very fucking clear,” he explained, nearly whispering so you were forced to stay still and quiet to hear him. “You don’t get to pick what you want. But you get to pick if you’re gonna make this easy, or difficult.”

You spat in his face; he slapped you for that, so hard that your ears rang for a moment while he grimaced and wiped his face with his sleeve.

“Difficult it is,” he announced with ill-restrained loathing, coming even closer as Bucky covered your mouth again to muffle your screams of protest. “Buck, I’m goin’ first.”

“Fuck you, pal, I was in longer and I saw her first,” Bucky replied frustratedly. “I’m not gonna take long anyway, you can go after me.”

“I just got spit in my face!” Steve reminded him. “And the breakout was my idea!”

“Your idea?!” Bucky repeated incredulously. “What, you think you’re the first guy to think ‘hey, what if we just left prison?’ because trust me, if it wasn’t for my screwdriver—”

Their argument caused Bucky’s focus to slip, that must have been why the hand on your mouth loosened and you could speak again.

"You won't get away with this, my father's a sheriff!" you yelped, interrupting their negotiation.

They both laughed darkly and you instantly regretted saying it.

"Oh, sweetheart, your old man's a cop? That's too bad,” Steve sighed. “You know what they say: sins of the father…"

"Fuck the daughter,” Bucky finished with a cold, hollow laugh as he suddenly bit down on your ear making you wince and shudder, tears streaming down your cheeks already.

He tossed you down and pinned you to the ground, his strong, heavy body on top of yours knocking the wind out of you as he began to tear at your clothes and, annoyingly, not seeming to find them much trouble at all. You whimpered when you felt your pants torn down your legs, hating how exposed and vulnerable you felt, hating the undeniable fact that you couldn’t stop this.

You tried to get up when he reached down to open his belt and jeans, but Steve’s boot came down on your shoulder and held you still again. Bucky was rushed and brutal as he pushed his pants down and pressed his cock against your ass, guiding it between your legs as you hissed and tried not to think about what was about to happen.

He pulled back briefly to spit on your hole, spreading the forced wetness with the head of his cock before suddenly pushing into you as you gasped and choked on a sob.

"Oh, that's it baby,” he groaned, “scream if you want, nobody can hear you but us."

Already he was thrusting with wild abandon, his hips slapping into your ass as his hot breath came down against your ear and neck, his face pressing yours into the cold ground.

"Fuuuuuck,” he moaned lowly, “so tight, Jesus Christ… fuckin' missed this, went almost ten years without burying my cock in a wet little cunt like this. Shit, it's even better than I remember."

You just cried and bit down on nothing, pain making violent shivers run up your spine as the width of him split you open, pushing deeper than you’d known anything could go.

Each thrust seemed somehow rougher and deeper than the last, pushing you further past your limits, making your toes curl inside your boots. He was unabashedly using your body, treating you with less care than some men might a blow-up doll, moaning loudly as he split you open with every moment.

So why did it almost begin to feel good, now that the worst of the pain had faded? Why was the ridge of his cock brushing over your g-spot just right each time he moved?

He pinned more of his weight on you as he changed his angle slightly, enough to add just that much more brutality to every stroke, the loud slapping of skin echoing through the desolate trees. You could tell he wasn’t lying about how long he’d been celibate in prison, because he fucked you with every ounce of pent-up frustration, hissing through his teeth and holding you tight enough to bruise.

Everything he did, he did enough to bruise.

“Yeah, take it, bitch,” he moaned when you made a particularly pained noise.

“I thought you said you weren’t gonna take long,” Steve remembered, staring down at the two of you from where he was leaning against a tree with his arms crossed.

“I’m almost done, you waited this long you can wait five more minutes,” Bucky dismissed, voice a little strained as he kept fucking you.

“Just stop and give me a turn and then you can get back to it,” Steve suggested.

“Nah, no fuckin’ way,” Bucky laughed, “feels way too good to stop. Trust me, Stevie, this pussy’s worth the wait.”

“Get her on her knees then,” Steve instructed as he came closer to you and kneeled in front of your face; Bucky manhandled your hips into place while Steve pulled your hair until you yelped and brought your head up. “I wanna fuck this pretty little throat.”

He cut off your protests with another hard slap to your cheek, tugging your hair again as you struggled to hold yourself up on shaking arms.

“Gonna teach this mouthy bitch a lesson,” he explained as he hit you again before using one hand to open his belt and jeans. “You know what’s gonna happen if you try to bite me, right? I’ll just knock you out and fuck your throat anyways. So you’d better make it good if you wanna breathe.”

You tried your best to nod with his fist tugging your hair, gasping slightly when he pulled his cock out and stroked it right in front of your face.

“Come on, baby, open up— this is the most you’ve kept your mouth shut all day,” he laughed, tapping the swollen head of his cock on your lips until you finally opened them. The flavor of his skin on your tongue made your lips curl in disgust but he held your jaw and pushed deeper, quickly hitting the back of your throat. “Fuck, so warm… come on, suck it, make it good for me.”

“She’s gettin’ wet,” Bucky informed Steve with a chuckle. “She likes it— don’t you, little whore?” he prompted as he slapped your ass suddenly, making you cry out around Steve’s length. “You like choking on a cock like you deserve?”

You made some sort of gurgling sound, and apparently they took it as a ‘yes.’

"Aw yeah, fuck, gonna fill up this little cunt,” Bucky promised. Funny thing is, you weren't sure if "this little cunt" meant your hole, or you.

“You’d better not, m’supposed to go after you,” Steve reminded him.

“Fuck, I dunno if I have the heart to pull out,” Bucky admitted with a laugh, slapping you on the ass to make your walls suddenly clench around him. “I know a sweet body like this just needs to be bred.”

Your sob was louder around where Steve’s girth stretched your lips, making Bucky laugh darkly.

"Oh shit honey, what would Daddy Sherriff say if he found out you got knocked up by a couple'a criminals, huh? By murderers?"

Steve pulled his cock out just enough to let you sob weakly before shoving back in and penetrating your throat.

"Yeah, you like it don't you?” Bucky continued to taunt you. “You like being bred by some strangers who caught you in the woods… dirty bitch."

Steve's head fell back as he started to thrust into your mouth faster and harder, the base of his cock flexing against your tongue. You assumed it was a sign that he was close and it made you hopeful that this would be over soon, but he suddenly pulled out with an exhausted laugh.

"Oh no you don't," he breathed, "not gonna come yet, still need to feel that tight little pussy of yours… if Bucky would hurry the fuck up."

"Fuck, I'm close, I'm close," Bucky rasped. "Shit, babydoll, this wet cunt is gonna make me come, aren't you so proud?"

Steve held your mouth open and rubbed his cock on your tongue, occasionally shoving two fingers in with it which were salty with his sweat.

"Fuck, fuck, fuckfuckfuck," Bucky hissed, "oh god, fuck, I'm—!"

He pulled out suddenly, rubbing his cock against your clit as his seed shot onto the ground beneath you. You sighed with relief although you hated the way your body was actually disappointed, craving more and clenching around nothing in protest.

Bucky was hardly even finished when Steve reached under your arms to pull you up and flip you onto your back, groaning as he settled between your legs and rubbed his cock over your folds. He didn't waste any time pushing into you, and apparently being fucked by Bucky wasn't enough to warm you up for Steve because you hissed at the sting as he filled you.

"Fuck," Steve mumbled as he grabbed your wrists and pinned them down beside your head. Already he had begun to pull back only to spear into you again, reaching deeper inside you than Bucky had until you were gasping and choking on nothing.

Bucky stood up and stepped back, pulling his jeans up as he watched you two on the ground.

"You got any cigarettes back at camp, sweetheart?" Bucky asked you, and it was hard to focus on his question but you shook your head. "Damn," he breathed, pondering for a moment before coming up with his next question. "You got any candy bars?"

"Do you mind?" Steve hissed, still thrusting into you— a bit slower than Bucky but not exactly more gentle. "We're kind of busy here."

"No, I don't particularly mind," Bucky smirked.

"Can't you just entertain yourself for a few minutes while I finish this?"

"Why should I entertain myself when I've got this pretty little thing to entertain me?" Bucky smirked, kneeling down beside you as Steve buried his face in the crook of your neck. "Wanna help me out here, dollface? I'm still hard…"

He freed one hand from Steve's grip and brought it up to the front of his jeans so you could feel the hard bulge there. He opened them for you, reaching in and pulling his hard cock out to wrap your hand around it.

Feeling the thickness of it in your palm now, you couldn't imagine how it ever fit inside you.

"Yeah, that's it, I'll teach you how to stroke it right…" he groaned. "You know how many times I had to do this to myself, just imagining claiming a little slut like you? Your hands are so much softer, sweetheart…"

His hand tightened around yours and guided every movement, which was good because you had no chance of focusing on anything while Steve was slamming into you and moaning right by your ear.

"So wet," he whispered to you, "so warm. All mine…"

You felt your insides grip him harder and he smiled, lips tickling your sensitive skin.

"Yeah, you like bein' mine. You like being owned, I can feel it. I can feel that this is exactly what you needed. Is that what you were hoping for when you came out to these woods all by yourself? That a big strong man would show up and stretch out this pussy? Well I'm here now, angel, and I'm just about ready to fill you up real good."

A few more thrusts, faster and harder than ever, were enough to send Steve over the edge as you felt each pulse warm you from the inside out. Steve groaned loudly and buried himself as deep as he could possibly go, painting his come right onto your cervix while you gasped at the sensation.

Bucky stopped moving your hand and looked down at Steve. "Are you fucking serious— did you just come inside?"

Steve took a moment to catch his breath before answering: "duh."

"How come you get to come inside but I don't, huh?"

"Cause I went second!"

"Yeah, that's some bullshit," Bucky scoffed.

"Will you just leave now, please?" you whimpered weakly from the ground. "You got what you wanted, now just go."

"Oh, sweetheart, we are nowhere near done with you," Steve promised, sighing as he pulled out of you slowly.

You wanted to try to get up, but your limbs were weak and numb, and your head heavy with confusion. It made it easy for Bucky to scoop you up and carry you back the way you'd run, your tent quickly coming into view which made you realize how pitifully short your chase had been.

“Looks big enough for the three of us,” Steve noted as he tilted his head to look at your camp.

“We’re not going in yet, I think somebody needs a little creek bath first,” Bucky smiled as he started to set you down on your shaky legs. “Go ahead and strip, doll.”

You shivered, considering resistance but deciding it wasn’t worth the trouble as you started to peel off your shirt and jacket, then your boots and slightly torn leggings.

They both smiled and watched you, Bucky snorted a little when he saw how hard your nipples were. “It’s chilly,” you defended meekly.

“Sure it is,” he nodded, “don’t stop, get in the water when you’re done.”

You nodded slightly as you tossed the clothes aside, trying to cover yourself with your arms as you slowly walked into the stony creek, wishing the water weren’t so clear so it would cover you better.

You made a weak attempt to clean yourself, watching goosebumps cover your skin from the cool water.

"Wash yourself up good,” Bucky instructed firmly. “I don't want any of Rogers' jizz still in you when I take that pussy again."

With a grimace, you washed between your legs and winced when your touch reawakened the sting of soreness there.

“You’re gonna have to push it out, honey, it’s real deep,” Steve grinned pridefully.

You did your best to clean up, not for Bucky’s benefit but for your own, because you hated how it felt to have Steve’s spend still within you.

“How am I supposed to dry off?” you asked nervously as you looked around, knowing you hadn’t brought a towel as you hadn’t really planned on a full creek bath during your trip. You hadn’t planned on any of this during your trip, shockingly enough.

“You can drip dry,” Steve suggested.

“So you want me to stand naked in the cold for an hour while I dry?” you realized, irritated but still scared.

“Something like that,” Bucky confirmed. “Unless you want us to keep you warm…”

“I’ll freeze,” you decided, stepping out of the water as Bucky snatched your clothes away to make sure you couldn’t dress. “Gimme those!”

“Come and get ‘em,” he challenged, leaving you to huff and cross your arms, teeth chattering as the wind picked up.

You couldn’t imagine why they cared so much about testing your will when they’d already proven that they could take you however they wanted. Perhaps it was just that they wanted to know you’d accepted that. Better yet, they probably hoped you would participate willingly if you understood that you never had a choice.

Closing your eyes didn’t help, you could still feel their hungry gaze on you; rubbing yourself with your hands didn’t help because it just spread the cold water around on your skin, rather than actually warming you up.

It was probably less than a minute but it felt like half an hour before you relented, walking up to Bucky and looking down to avoid his stare as you meekly requested, “can I have my clothes, please?”

“But I can think of so many better ways to keep you warm,” he whispered as he wrapped his arms around you, Steve moving behind you to press his chest against your back. You sighed with relief because even this was already making you feel better, the warmth of their bodies taking out some of the chill while their size blocked you from the wind. You mewled, ever so quietly, when you felt Bucky’s lips on your neck, your eyes falling shut as your head fell back onto Steve’s chest.

They showered you in gentle touches and teasing kisses as they picked you up and carried you into your tent, the small space beginning to warm quickly with the heat of three people inside— or was it just you that was getting hot from what they were doing to you.

Steve was groping your tits and pinching your hardened nipples, while Bucky focused most on sucking your neck or biting just beneath your ear. It was overwhelming, and impossible to ignore though you wanted so desperately not to be aroused. There were only four hands exploring your body but it might as well have been a hundred because you couldn’t tell the difference, they were touching you everywhere all at once.

"Now, are you gonna behave or do we need to tie you up?" Steve asked quietly.

You shook your head wildly, tensing up just imagining that. "Then say it," he instructed.

"I-I'll be good," you promised weakly.

Bucky grinned and slid his hand up your thigh, and though you didn’t mean to, when Bucky reached between your legs you tried to shut them and squirm away, it was instinct.

"Ah ah ah," Steve tutted. "You said you'd be good."

"Think we oughta tie her up," Bucky nodded, feigning disappointment.

"No, please, I'm sorry—"

"Too late for sorry, dollface," Bucky smirked, grabbing a shirt from your pack and tearing it into strips like it was no effort at all.

Steve held your wrists together for Bucky to tie, and they even tied your legs up bent and spread wide, finishing it off with a gag in your mouth.

Now you were helpless to Bucky pinching your clit, circling it with his thick and calloused finger, applying pressure to it until your eyes watered. At first it was exploratory, delicate, but once he’d found the most sensitive places he began to rub your clit hard and fast, laughing every time you moaned and flicking the sensitive bud to make your body jolt.

"Yeah, this little cunt's getting all wet, y'like having your pussy played with?" he smirked.

He accentuated his question with a few sudden spanks to your clit that made you jerk and yelp. The worst thing was that each slap made a wet sound that made you sure you were soaking by now.

“I know you want it so bad, don’t worry doll, I’m not gonna make you wait anymore…”

He caged you in and opened his jeans one more time, the process going much more quickly since he didn’t have to hold you down— you could squirm and cry, but that was about it.

With a little grunt, he pushed into you, and with how wet you were it actually went it much more easily. It was by no means painless though, especially since he was already moving and giving you no time to adjust.

"Yeah, that's better," he sighed, grinning as he watched you whine into the gag. "Now I can really take my time with you, show you how good I can make you feel."

He was certainly more relaxed than the first time, his pace measured and calculated as he made sure his hips met with yours fully at the end of each stroke. His width wasn’t as challenging in this position but his length certainly was, bumping into your sore and delicate cervix until you were forced to bite down onto the gag to cope.

But, in spite of the pain, or perhaps because of it, something deep and strong was forming inside you, tightening and twisting until it took all your effort not to let it spill forth.

He reached down and roughly rubbed your clit again, forcing a muffled scream from your throat as he grinned down at you. “Close already, huh? Good to know I haven’t lost my touch after all these years.”

You almost heard Steve scoff beside you, but it was hard to hear anything when your ears felt like they were full of cotton, only your own echoing heartbeat ringing louder than anything else.

"Yeah, I wanna feel you fuckin' come,” Bucky growled. “Bet you get even tighter every time."

As much as you wished not to, you fell over the edge, back arching until your chest bumped into Bucky’s where he hovered above you. He coaxed you along in his words and movements, your walls clenching in a nonsensical rhythm. More than anything you just wished he would stop moving so you could catch your breath, but his pace never faltered and it felt like you’d never stop coming if he never stopped fucking you.

“That’s it, good fucking girl,” he groaned, “makin’ you feel so good, aren’t I? Answer me.”

You hesitated, and sniffled, but finally nodded.

Even worse, your clit was so swollen now that he didn’t even need to rub it with his thumb anymore; his cock rubbed against it with each movement, the ridges of his shaft massaging you there until it felt like every part of your body had become the most sensitive place possible. You shook violently beneath him, each wave of pleasure stronger than the last until you felt like you had lost all sense of time, and space, and really anything that wasn’t being fucked in this tent like the fate of the world depended on it.

"Get outta the tent, Steve,” Bucky instructed suddenly.

"Why?" Steve protested with a scoff.

"I can't come with you starin' at me!"

"I'm not looking at you, dumbass,” he sneered, “I'm lookin’ at her. So pretty when she cries…"

"Whatever, either way, just go outside please?"

Clearly irritated but relenting anyways, Steve grunted under his breath as he got up, stepping unceremoniously over both of you. Bucky sighed with relief when Steve zipped the tent flap shut behind him, turning his attention back to you. “That’s better, isn’t it? Just me and you… way it oughta be.”

“I heard that!” Steve called from outside.

“Then stop listening!” Bucky suggested through his teeth before leaning down to whisper in your ear, holding your hips tight so he could fuck you harder than ever. "I don't give a fuck what he says, I'm coming in you this time. Not pulling out until I know every drop is in you, wanna see this pussy stuffed to the brim with my come… you want it too, huh?”

Another electrifying pulse inside you made your channel flutter around him, and how cruel that the moan he made actually turned you on more.

"Fuck, that's it, squeeze my fuckin' dick, honey. Wanna milk all the come outta my cock, don't you?"

You nodded again, hearing him moan in that perfect way one more time before you started to feel him pulse and swell within you, streams of hot come pouring into you. The amount was pretty impressive since he’d already come once, although you didn’t exactly feel ‘impressed,’ so much as horrified and confused. And numb, from coming so many times.

Bucky smiled down at you with an exhausted sigh, smacking you lightly on the face a few times to try to rouse you from your blissed-out state, but all you could do was hum sleepily into the gag.

“M’gonna untie you now, you’re too out of it to try anything,” he explained, releasing the gag first before working on your wrists and your legs. A rush of warm come oozed out of your abused hole when he pulled back, making your face heat up as he smiled and held your legs up to see it better. “Yeah, filled you up real nice,” he informed you. He gave a reassuring pat to your thigh before getting up and getting out of the tent, leaving you to stare blankly into nothingness for a while.

Eventually, you knew you had to face the world again, though you were more sure than ever that you weren’t prepared for it. Grabbing a blanket from the floor of the tent and covering yourself with it, you took a slow breath to try to stabilize yourself.

For how slow time seemed to have passed so far, you were surprised to see the sun setting when you opened the tent flap and stepped outside. You realized, with a sick feeling in your chest, that they had been using you nearly all day now. And considering they were waiting for you around the fire, giving you a glance up and down as you emerged from the tent, they still might not stop for a while.

In fact, they’d made themselves very comfortable from the looks of it. The fire was burning stronger than ever, three logs positioned around the sides of the firepit to sit on; a pot was over the fire, and you recognized the contents as some of the food supplies from your pack. Best of all, Steve had found your battery radio and adjusted the station, blues quietly playing from the speaker as he used your hunting knife to whittle a stick.

Serves you right to suffer, the smooth voice crooned from the broadcast, serves you right to be alone...

For a moment, the three of you sat in silence as you took in the scene. But when the wind changed and the heat of the fire no longer reached you, you remembered you had business to attend to.

“C-Can I have my clothes back now?” you asked Bucky quietly, seeing them draped over the side of one of the logs.

“I think if you get dressed you’ll try to run again,” Steve mumbled, not even looking up at you.

“No, I won’t, I’m too tired,” you explained. “I just don’t want to be cold.”

“Fire’s hot enough,” Bucky dismissed. “Why don’t you just lay down a while, hm? Get some rest. You earned it.”

You weren’t just tired physically, but mentally, which is partly why you didn’t put up more of a fight before going over to the log and laying beside it, the blanket around you protecting you from the cold ground while you used your clothes as a sort of pillow on the log.

It couldn’t have been that you were asleep, because you could still hear the fire and the radio and Steve’s whittling (a constant reminder that he had a knife), but with your eyes closed and the darkness getting darker it was almost like sleep. A draining, restless sleep that did nothing to shelter you from the memories of what you’d become.

So, you opened your eyes, staring into the flames instead and venturing the occasional glance at Bucky or Steve; the former always met your stare, the latter would only look up if a sound got his attention.

“You gonna take a turn?” Bucky asked Steve casually, motioning to you by cocking his head.

“Not yet, need a while to... you know, build up some energy,” Steve explained.

“Mind if I have another go then?”

“She’s all yours,” Steve approved, making Bucky grin as he got up and circled the log you were slumped over.

“Y’hear that, dollface? All mine,” he cooed, picking you up and adjusting you until you were bent over the log, facing Steve and the fire. Your clothes kept your naked torso from rubbing against the bark, thankfully, but nothing could spare you from Bucky’s incessant touch, running up your back, over your butt which he spanked a few times for good measure, and finally to your entrance which he pushed two fingers into first. “Mm, we stretched you out pretty good… you’ll be back in shape by the mornin’, but until then, I just slide right in…”

And he proved himself right with one long stroke that pushed his cock to the deepest parts of you, pushing your hips forward into the log as you tried your best to keep your breathing steady.

He was uniquely quiet this time, still moaning and grunting occasionally but otherwise sparing you from the constant taunts and filthy whispers. Steve, meanwhile, was doing his best to look unaffected, but the subtle adjustment of his legs along with the increased vigor of his carving made it clear he was distracted by the sight in front of him.

Bucky’s strong hands on your hips were sure to leave marks, fingertips digging into your curves and pulling you back onto him, spearing you on his length.

“Yeah, that’s it,” he sighed, “gonna come.”

And it was actually a relief because this was going to end (for now), which was definitely the only reason you moaned in response. He got more talkative after that, smacking you on the ass a few more times as he chuckled darkly behind you.

“Fuck, take it, doll… take all my fuckin’ come.”

It was sort of a meaningless instruction, since you had to, but he seemed to enjoy reminding you that he was about to take his pleasure from your body one more time. He made a weak little moaning noise, almost pained, as he filled you once again, slumping down on top of you and for the first time really showing signs of exhaustion after coming three times in a day. You were so out of it that you hardly noticed his weight on you, or the little kisses he gave to your ear, whispering praises that tried your best not to hear.

He pulled out and came back around to look at your face again, pulling you up slightly by your hair so you looked up at him.

“Such a good fuckin’ girl,” he groaned. “Open your mouth sweetheart,” he instructed, spitting onto your tongue as soon as you’d done it, then lifting your jaw to make you close your mouth and swallow.

He tugged your hair harder before he kissed you, more possessive than affectionate, but unexpected regardless. His tongue tangled with yours as he reached down to circle his hand around your neck, feeling your pulse but not going so far as to choke you.

A little groan from Steve caught both his attention and yours. "You wanna fuck her, Stevie?"

"Oh god, I want that ass, I want that fuckin ass," he answered through his teeth, making you gulp as Bucky laughed.

"Go for it, man," he encouraged, and only a second after he stood up you both heard and felt Steve appear behind you, one calloused hand spreading your cheeks; you whimpered from embarrassment when you felt a finger circle your tight rim, before slowly pushing in.

"Fuck," you whispered, and it sounded much more like a curse of pleasure than you intended.

"Yeah, you want it don't you?" he asked through his teeth, giving you a hard spank that made you cry out. Bucky slapped you when you didn't answer, grabbing your jaw roughly.

"He asked you a question," he reminded you firmly, the sound of Steve spitting into his hand and coating your hole and his length distracting you slightly.

"Yes, yes, I want it!" you sobbed.

"Where?"

"In my ass!"

Your body put up significant resistance against his swollen head, but it was no match for his rough thrust forward, the tip of him popping inside and stretching you painfully. You bit your lip but it was impossible to stay quiet when he slid the rest of the way in.

You cried out as he moaned with satisfaction, already moving so much faster than you could handle (which, to be fair, was a low bar).

"Oh my god," he breathed. "So fuckin' tight…"

The pain was sharp, and it felt like the base of his cock was impossibly thicker than the rest of him since you whined every time he pushed in.

"Aw, does it hurt baby? That's my cock ruining your little hole, sweetheart…"

"Stop," you rasped, "please… please stop…"

"Nah, I think you like it… I think what you really needed was just to be put in your place, fucked in every hole so you know exactly what you're meant for."

Bucky appeared in front of you again, stroking himself in front of your face, still slick from behind inside you.

"See what a mess you made on my cock, dollface? I think you need to help me clean it up," he groaned, holding your jaw open to stuff his cock into your mouth and stifle your sobs. The taste of your and his come was potent and musky on your tongue, his head pushing right into your open throat when you tried to gag.

Steve held you tighter as he thrusted a bit more vigorously, Bucky simultaneously using your throat as he stroked your hair and cheek.

You couldn’t remember how to do anything but just take it now. At times their paces synchronized and you felt like you were being filled to the brim at both ends. Other times they were in a syncopation where one pushed in just as the other pulled out, meaning you had no real breaks at all.

Bucky was too weak to come again, that much was obvious, but he was happy to choke you anyways; and Steve, well, Steve was moaning more now than he had from your mouth or pussy, apparently trying to hold himself back even though he had no reason to try to prolong this— unless he actually wanted to see you in pain more than he wanted to finish?

“You want me to come in your ass?” Steve interrogated you with a spank to your thigh. “Beg for it.”

You shook your head around the length in your mouth.

“It doesn’t stop until you beg me for it, isn’t that what you want? You want it to stop, right?”

Had you really fallen into his trap that easily?

Bucky pulled back to give you the opportunity to meet Steve’s request, and you sucked in a lungful of air before finally whimpering: “Please, Steve… please come…”

“Where?” he pressed, ever-determined to make you remind him where he was fucking you.

“Please come in my ass…”

“If you say so, sweetheart,” he snickered before starting to thrust faster and more erratically, chasing his peak which you prayed was close. It was, thankfully, though never close enough, and you forgot that the swell of his pulsating cock would stretch your tired hole even wider.

And, you forgot that he had no reason to pull out just because he’d come.

“Fuck,” he groaned, “that was good.”

You tried to kick him away but it was impossible with how hard he’d pinned you down to the log.

“Just stay still and keep my cock warm in this pretty ass of yours, alright?” he instructed, all the while Bucky stared down at you with a satisfied smirk on his face, combing your hair a bit with his fingers.

“You’re tired, huh?” he noticed. “We’ll get you to bed soon.”

“Will you leave?” you instantly returned.

“We need somewhere to make camp for the night, too. And since there’s already a perfectly good camp right here…”

“No,” you whined, “no, you’re never gonna leave me alone, are you?”

“We’ll talk about it in the morning, alright?” he offered.

It was truly a testament to how physically exhausted you were that you managed to fall asleep squished between your two personal monsters.

Bucky was behind you, essentially spooning you while Steve had an arm draped over your chest. And even with the heavy weight on you, physical and metaphysical, you would’ve slept through the night easily if it weren’t for the feeling of Steve running his hands over your body, groping you wherever he could reach.

You opened your eyes but it was still pitch darkness, giving you no distraction from the physical sensations of Steve's fingers delicately grazing over your skin. Behind you, the quiet stability of Bucky’s breathing made it clear he was still asleep and unaware.

“Steve,” you whispered hoarsely.

“Shh,” he soothed below his breath, right by your ear. “He sleeps like a rock, we’re not gonna wake him up with a little fooling around.”

Amazingly enough, that wasn’t exactly what you were worried about. But you discontinued your dissent as he lightly suckled the lobe of your ear, fingers tracing abstract shapes over your hip. You heard your own breath catch, and he must have too because he smiled and nibbled on your neck.

You shivered when he started to pull you closer, laying you back to reach between your legs and toy with your overly-sensitive folds. His fingers found your clit and rubbed it in slow circles, making you writhe and jolt as shocks of pleasure shot through you.

“So sensitive,” he praised darkly, pushing against you harder. “Gettin’ wet, honey? Want you dripping before I put my cock in you.”

Bucky stirred beside you, pulling you closer in his sleep though Steve kept a strong hold on your lower half. It was nearly claustrophobic being sandwiched between them like this, made even worse when Steve adjusted your hips and you felt his cock rub against you.

“Tell me you want it,” he whispered in your ear, cradling your face in his large, rough hands.

“I— I want it,” you whispered back, biting your lip to stay quiet when he pushed in. You were still sore, but the wetness helped ease his way as he filled you to the brim, groaning softly and thrusting much more gently than you expected. It was all very relaxed, and languid, and… sleepy. It was so much easier to pretend that you wanted this when it was gentle and patient like this, when you couldn’t see his face

“You two got started without me?” Bucky interjected, making you both gasp.

"You seemed pretty busy snoring over there," Steve explained with an unamused tone. “You know, Barnes, I actually broke out of prison so I wouldn’t have to sleep in the same room as you for the rest of my life.”

“Leave if you want, Rogers, I’ll keep the girl and you can take her battery radio, ya limpdick.”

“Limpdick? Were you not here for the past twenty-four hours?”

“Yeah, I was fucking this sweet little thing while you were out there by the fire doing your arts and crafts.”

And just like that, your sweet and gentle sex was gone; Steve was determined to claim you now, fucking you harder and faster until you couldn’t hold back your broken moans. "Yeah, you like that?" he growled against your ear. "You like gettin' fucked? Say it."

"Y-yes, I like it," you gasped.

"We're gonna be on the run for a while…" Bucky mumbled against your skin as he kissed your shoulder, "sure wouldn't mind takin' you with us, keeping our own little pet to fuck whenever we want."

You tried not to stop breathing entirely when he said that, distracted by Steve slowing down slightly, offering some reprieve.

"Been so long without touchin' a woman," Steve added huskily, "I don't know if one day is enough."

"Yeah, plus we've already got you obedient, trained, fucked braindead and full of come," Bucky replied, biting down on your skin to make you whimper and he chuckled happily.

"Are you sure you can share, Barnes?" Steve pressed. "I know if you had it your way she'd be ripped to shreds by now."

"Whatever man, you're the one who tore her ass up."

Steve scoffed slightly, while Bucky continued.

"You wanna come with us sweetheart? We'll be real good to you, keep your holes wet and full for a couple months straight at least. You won't have to worry about a thing, won't have to lift a finger, just keep your legs spread and you'll be peachy."

"Hey, that's what we'll call you: Peach," Steve decided. "It's perfect, isn't it? 'Cause you're sweet… and soft… and I could just eat you up," he purred.

"Wanna be our girl, Peach?" Bucky prompted.

"No, please…"

You expected anger, you expected them to hurt you, but you didn't expect them to laugh. "Looks like our sweet little Peach hasn't had a chance to realize how good it's gonna be with us," Steve announced.

"Yeah, let's show her how much she wants to be our girl," Bucky snickered, holding your hips as Steve started to move inside you again.

Bucky, meanwhile, was grabbing handfuls of your ass and groaning as he rubbed his cock against you. One finger explored your rim and slowly pushed in.

"Looks like you're still a little loosened up from when Stevie here gave it to you, huh? He was real mean, wasn't he?"

You nodded, clutching harder into Steve's chest as he fucked you faster.

"Then taking me should be a breeze."

Truly, you had no idea how this was possible. I'm the dark it all felt like a fever dream, but when Bucky pushed into your available opening while Steve was still fucking you… it was definitely real, the feeling was too overwhelming not to be.

'A breeze' was definitely an exaggeration but it was undeniably easier, especially since being half-asleep made your body so much more relaxed. You still hissed when Bucky's hips met your ass, you still choked on a breath at the feeling of two cocks buried all the way inside you, but it wasn't from pain as much as being full beyond your wildest dreams

"You were right about this ass, Rogers, goddamn…" Bucky moaned, holding your hips tight and beginning to thrust.

"Fuck, can hardly believe you're takin' both of us," Steve sighed against your ear. "I know you love it, Peach, I know you love bein' so full…"

Your lips fumbled with the desire to moan a name but not sure whose to say; so instead you just babbled mindlessly, sounded just as dumbfounded as you felt.

But they weren't having any problems speaking, in fact they were more talkative than ever, each whispering in a different ear and making shivers crawl up your spine with every word.

"You're making us feel so good, such a good girl, aren't you Peachy baby?"

"Such a perfect fucking whore, so wet already just from being used."

"Want us to come inside, huh Peach? Wanna be full of come?”

Each time you arched your back, it only somehow pushed them both deeper, so deep you couldn’t think about anything else anymore. Bucky was moving at a much slower pace than Steve, such that they would only occasionally thrust all the way in at exactly the same time— and when they did, you heard yourself moan but refused to believe it was you making the sound because it sounded nothing like you, it didn’t even seem like something you would do; enjoying this that much, that is.

“You’re close, huh? Gonna come for both of us?”

You found yourself nodding, even though they couldn’t see it, but Bucky must have felt it against his shoulder because he laughed a little, grabbing your face and turning you back to kiss you hungrily. When he moved his kiss down to the back of your neck, Steve captured your lips instead, less dominating than Bucky’s but no less intense. The moan that undeniably signalled your orgasm was nearly lost against Steve’s tongue, but they both heard it and began to pump into you faster, keeping you suspended in your pleasure.

Steve lost it first, spilling into you with a choked groan and a tight grip on your arms that was sure to bruise. Bucky was close behind, panting with each hurried thrust until he finally moaned and filled your ass with ropes of hot come, a sensation you never could’ve imagined, let alone predicted you would experience twice in one day.

Bucky rubbed your thighs while he caught his breath while Steve peppered your face in tender kisses, both of them showering you in affection you had no idea how to handle.

“Whaddaya say, dollface?” Bucky prompted as he kissed just beneath your ear. “Y’like bein’ our little Peach, don’t you?”

You stammered over a few different responses, none of them very good, until Steve finally instructed you: “say yes.”

“Yes,” you repeated instantly.

“I can tell you do, you soaked my cock real good,” Steve praised with a grin you could feel against your cheek and hear in his gravelly voice. “We’ll head out in the morning, alright? Soon we’ll be somewhere where nobody knows who we are, what we’ve done… doesn’t that sound nice, Peach? A chance to start over?”

A fresh start never hurt anyone, right?

Months on the run made the night all blend together, you didn’t even know what state you were in anymore and you couldn’t find the energy to care.

It was definitely harder to hitchhike with three people, and a disturbing amount of truckers offered to take you alone but not your companions— and obviously they would never allow such a thing. At this point, you were better off with the devils you knew, anyways. At least with them you knew what to expect.

Specifically, you could expect Steve to be aloof and brooding until he occasionally snapped and became possessive over you again, asserting his dominance over you and Bucky however he could manage— usually by covering your body in his marks and every once in a while by covering your face with his come. You could expect Bucky to taunt and mock you, cornering you into consenting to his relentless barrage of pleasure and pain, over and over again watching you struggle to maintain your sense of denial and disgust, reminding you that you loved being fucked just how he wanted.

In fact, today was a pretty typical day while the three of you crashed in a motel, Steve staying silent and distant while Bucky kissed his way down your stomach that rose and fell shakily with each breath.

“Bucky, p-please,” you whispered, closing your eyes so you could more easily pretend it wasn’t you begging him for more.

"What's that, Peach? Want me to lick up your juice?" he grinned.

You shuddered and he chuckled as he knelt down between your legs to give a long, slow lick over your sex. Your entire body jolted when his rough tongue slid over your swollen clit, so he focused there until your legs were quivering and your head fell back.

"Mm, so sweet…” he cooed. “Come getta taste a’this, Steve.”

“I’m busy,” Steve refused, turning the page of his newspaper.

“Are you fuckin’ serious?” Bucky sighed, standing up straighter and leaving your pussy ignored; you whined a little, but it fell on deaf ears. “I’d love to see what you’re reading that could possibly be more interesting than this.”

“There’s an article about us,” Steve answered sternly, looking up from the paper to meet Bucky’s gaze, before glancing to look at you. “All three of us.”

Bucky huffed and stood up, leaving you naked on the bed as he crossed the room to tear the paper from Steve’s hands. His eyes scanned the page until he landed on the part Steve must have been referring to. “Holy shit,” he breathed. “Look, Peach, you made the papers!”

He brought over the article for you to read, and you sat up straighter when you saw that a photo of yourself had been included alongside the mugshots of Steve and Bucky.

Two escaped prisoners, one missing woman, spotted in woods near Schenectady, NY...

“When is this from?” you asked nervously.

“The paper’s from today, but we were in Schenectady two weeks ago,” Steve explained. “They aren’t anywhere near us.”

It brought back memories of TV broadcasts you’d seen in hotels, radio news Steve had turned off before you heard too much. Phrases like ‘statewide manhunt,’ ‘federal investigation,’ and ‘trafficked woman,’ which had once been foreign to you, now represented your deepest anxieties.

Bucky saw the fear on your face and knelt down on the bed beside you, stroking your face gently. “Aw, Peach, don’t be scared… they’re not gonna find us, I promise.”

“If they did… what would happen to me?” you asked weakly. You truly had no idea if you’d be returned home and treated as the victim of a crime, or if you’d be arrested and charged as a perpetrator, as a collaborator who aided in the escape and continued flee of two violent criminals. They’d already gotten you in on a few robberies, even one bank— could you defend yourself by saying that you were forced to do it?

“Nobody’s gonna take you away from us,” Bucky assured sternly, not quite answering your question but making it clear that was all you were gonna get. You reached up to rest your hand atop his where it held your cheek, letting your watery eyes fall shut before you looked back up into his enrapturing gaze again.

“Kiss me, Bucky, please,” you whispered, making him laugh and shake his head.

“No, Peachy, I would but I know where that mouth has been. Steve woke you up in the middle of the night to choke on his cock, thought I wouldn’t hear, huh?”

You gasped a little and Steve crossed his arms where he sat in the chair. Bucky turned his attention back to Steve with a look of challenge on his face. “She’s scared, Stevie, won’t you come over here and make her feel better?”

Steve sighed but relented and stood up, crossing the room to stand beside the bed and stare down at you. For a moment you didn’t know what he intended to do, until he knelt down and grabbed your hips, pulled your spread legs closer to the edge of the bed where he latched his lips onto your slick and swollen folds.

“Oh god,” you moaned, reaching down to tangle your fingers into his hair, his tongue pushing inside you right away, twisting and thrusting and licking right over your g-spot until your eyes rolled back in your head and your back arched up off the faded quilt. Bucky grinned as he watched you, leaning down to kiss your neck, then suckle on a hardened nipple, then lick over your hips until finally he bit down on the inside of your thigh. You yelped a little and felt him smile against your delicate skin.

“I told you we’d take care of you, babydoll,” he mumbled, voice all deep and throaty like it got when he was about to spend an hour reminding you who you belonged to.

Sometimes you dreamed of the life you had before this, of the person you were when you only belonged to yourself, but that life was gone forever and it wasn’t coming back. Each day you mourned it in a different way. At first it was just the loss of dignity, then it was the loss at any chance of gaining that dignity back. You missed your friends and family, but you realized they wouldn’t welcome you back with open arms after this long.

You realized it was well and truly over the first time a man on the news called you an accomplice to the ‘rampant crime spree’ of Bucky and Steve. Just a few weeks later, the stories changed from two prisoners and their kidnapping victim, to three prisoners. And yes, you were a prisoner, but the police didn’t see a difference between you and them anymore. You had no reason to run, no motive for escape. They were the only thing keeping you alive and free now, even if this freedom wasn’t exactly overflowing with liberties.

So, you accepted as quickly as you could that this was your new life; every morning you banished the memories of who you used to be, and every night you prayed that your lovers wouldn’t be caught. And it wasn’t so bad of a life to have, even if it wasn’t the life you would’ve chosen for yourself— there was something nice about it, really, never very calm but still having its moments of peace and domesticity. Like falling asleep in the backseat of a stolen truck while Steve played blues on the radio. Like sitting in Bucky’s lap as he told you all about the beautiful tropical islands they’d take you to someday. Like when Steve robbed a jewelry store and told you he’d picked that one because they had the ring he’d seen in a magazine ad, the ring he decided he wanted you to wear from now on. Like being Mrs. Barnes when Bucky introduced you to his criminal connections, and being Mrs. Rogers when Steve did the same the next night.

Maybe you’d forgotten how to be anything else but their sweet, quiet, obedient Peach, but maybe it wasn’t such a bad wrap after all.

#dark!stucky x reader #dark!bucky barnes x reader #dark!steve rogers x reader #dark!stucky noncon #dark!stucky smut #dark!stucky au

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