#I’m exited to listen to their new music

[duuhrayliegh]

equal and opposite (consequences, pt. 2)

a/n: first of all, yall really showed out with the comments and reblogs on the first part of this so THANK YOU SO MUCH like i haven't written anything that i felt was good in months so to have such an overwhelmingly positive response to that post felt amazing!!!!

if you haven’t read part one, i highly recommend checking that out first!!!!

anyway, i hadn't originally intended for this to go anywhere else, but as i've said before bartender!bucky & peanut just wouldn't go away so here we are!!! i hope this lives up to the expectations and if we want more PLEASE LET ME KNOW I LIVE TO PLEASE

“Can you please just sit down? I don’t understand what’s happening to us!”

“That’s the problem!”

He throws his hands above his head out of exasperation. They land on his hips as their new resting place and he levels you with a frustrated glare. A glare. Apparently, you’re not worth the energy it takes to filter the emotions from his tone or expressions. That luxury must be saved for his plethora of mistresses.

“You don’t understand me anymore!”

“Understand you?”

Going home has become harder and harder. Despite desperately wanting to fix your marriage, it seems your efforts might have been in vain. No matter how hard you try, your husband has made every effort to avoid having a real conversation with you. To say you’re at your wit's end would be generous.

“Yes! Coming home to you is too stressful for me. I’m in the office all week and then I come home to a wife who doesn’t put in any effort to make herself desirable for me.”

Your jaw dropped, as did the wooden spoon in your hand. His words float through your head on repeat. That voice you used to love, the same voice that vowed to always love and cherish you in his wedding vows. Now, you’re cooking for a man you don’t know.

“Then why stay with me? If I’m so clearly not what you want, why stay?”

There’s a drawn out silence that is accompanied by softly heaving breaths and the simmering pot of homemade spaghetti sauce.

“You’re what I want in a wife. You just don’t understand my needs in the way that Shelia does.”

Your blood boils. Shelia—the latest girlfriend in a string of girlfriends. How dare he? You turn to the stove and begin clicking everything off. You fume while gathering your purse and keys to a home that you no longer feel welcome in.

“This is why I didn’t want to get into this. You’re too emotional and I knew you’d play the victim whenever I’m suffering too!”

You roll your eyes, refusing to engage because you’ll only hurt yourself more. Instead, you pry the door open and slam it shut before trekking off down the hallway.

You don’t have a plan, all you know is that you need to get out. You’re lucky that you were wearing a hoodie and jeans whenever you started getting into it with John. It’s not the first time that you had to get out, so you’ve learned over the past few months.

Wind whips against your cheeks when you exit your apartment building. You pull your hood over your head and start walking aimlessly. You reach for your phone and dial the first number you think of.

You never stop walking, street lamps lighting the sidewalk with a pale yellow light. There’s an irritating sting starting behind your eyes that you refuse to acknowledge. You don’t have to listen to the trilling of the phone line for long before it’s interrupted.

“Commando’s. How can I help you?”

The music in the bar is loud enough that you can clearly make out Steve’s divorced dad rock playlist. A rush of relief shoots down your spine and you breathe a sigh while enjoying the subtle ambiance through your phone speaker.

“Hello?”

It’s only then that you realize you’ve been on the phone for the past thirty seconds without saying anything.

“Bucky?”

“Peanut?”

“Hi, uh--I didn't have your number and I didn't know who else to call."

"Hang on, Peanut. I'm here, hang on." Suddenly the music is reduced to a bouncing bass line. "Are you okay?"

You continue walking, breathing in the stale air of the city as you debate your answer. For the most part, sure, you're okay. You’re not physically harmed in any way, just a deep emotional hurt that persists through the stark cold of the air around you. But if someone looked twice, or you spend more than half a second around someone you're comfortable with, that answer wouldn’t hold water.

"The wheels, Peanut, I can hear them. I need you to answer me. Are you okay?"

Bucky's voice is soft and grounding. Your heartbeat starts to match the steady baseline of the bar's music.

"I'm okay?"

Bucky's soft laugh echoes through the phone speaker, "That sounded like a question more than an answer, Peanut." He then pauses and sighs, "What did he do now?"

You suck in a sharp breath, debating on how to answer his question. The lead weight that had previously settled in your stomach begins to lessen as you hear Bucky’s voice.

On the one hand, Bucky has become the person you feel the most comfortable with. You don't have anyone close to you in the city because you moved out here to support John's career. Your family is on the other side of the country, and it's not like you've had a whole lot of time to build a support system here.

On the other, Bucky didn't sign up for this. He didn't sign up for a broken wife that isn't even his! You have no connection to him outside of becoming a regular at his bar and forming a possibly misguided attraction.

“Peanut? Come on back to me."

“Sorry, Buck. I just—“ you trail off, not entirely sure how to handle yourself.

“Don’t worry about it, Peanut Butter.” You laugh softly at the lengthier version of your nickname while he continues talking. “Look, how about we meet somewhere so we can talk?”

“Aren’t you working tonight though? I can just come to the bar.”

No matter how appealing Bucky’s offer is, you don’t want him to risk his livelihood for you. You aren’t worth that, not really.

“Not anymore, Pea. You’re more important to me. The guys here can handle the bar while I leave to take care of my Ps and Qs.”

You giggle again, unsure of where he comes up with these iterations.

“There she is.”

The words are murmured low, as if he was just speaking to himself. As if it’s a remark not meant for public consumption, just a murmur of his adoration.

“There’s a little hole in the wall on 115th and North. It’s called Winnie’s. Meet me there and you can talk for however long they’re serving coffee.”

"Don't diners always serve coffee?"

"They sure do. And Winnie's is a 24-hour diner. Which means," There's a loud shuffle on his end of the phone and then his voice cuts through. "you can talk to me for as long as you want, Peanut."

"Thank you, Bucky." You aren't as loud as you meant to be, but you know he hears you when he hums before you end the call.

Shoving the phone in the pocket of your jacket, you search for street signs.

And now you stand in front of Winnie's, a sixties diner straight off a movie set. Bright neon illuminates the street below, bathing you in a turquoise light that you're sure is not at all flattering. The front door is encased in chrome and vinyl covers the seating throughout the restaurant.

You push through the front doors and spy a large jukebox on the left side of the building. There's no host stand, so you peer around the seats in search of your bartender.

"Welcome to Winnie's. hun! Just take a seat, we'll be right with ya!"

An older woman yells from behind the bar top. Her graying hair is pulled into a neat bun at the base of her neck and you're just about to read her nametag when you hear a familiar voice.

"Peanut! This-a-way!" Bucky stands from a booth in the corner, grabbing your attention and everyone else in the restaurant.

A bright blush colors your cheeks as you make your way to his booth in the corner. The linoleum floor of the diner becomes increasingly interesting the closer you find yourself to Bucky. To be completely truthful, you've never seen Bucky outside of the bar, so this is a jarring, but welcome experience.

He's still wearing those annoyingly large boots and tight white shirt that never fails to distract you when you're sitting on the twirly bar stools. His metal arm is on full display, the gold in-lay catching the light as he twists a straw wrapper into a tight spiral.

Bucky stands to greet you once you reach the booth, leaning toward you and wrapping you in his warm embrace. Your breath catches at his sudden body heat, but you waste no time in curling your arms around his torso.

"This might be the dumbest and most obvious question, but," he pulls back from the hug and gestures toward the seat across from him, "how’re you doing?"

A stifled laugh escapes as you settle into the worn vinyl seat. Instead of answering, you pull a less-than-convincing smile that you know Bucky can see right through. Evidenced by the fact that he laughs sarcastically at the look of it.

"Yeah, thought as much."

"It's just all becoming too much, I think."

An older woman brings two coffee mugs to the table, gripping a half-full coffee pot in her other hand. You stop yourself before you divulge anything in the presence of strangers. You don't need to burden another random stranger with your problems, Bucky is more than enough.

“Who's your friend, Jamie?"

Bucky smiles while introducing you to the woman. He extends the same courtesy to you, placing the name of the woman in front of you.

"Peanut, this is Winnie. She's the owner and operator of Winnie's diner."

Bucky pours a healthy dose of sugar into your coffee mug and then drops a spoon into it before pushing it across to you. You're in the middle of taking a large sip of the hot drink when Bucky continues talking.

"She's also my mother."

“Oh!"

He laughs as you sputter, completely phased by his nonchalance about introducing you to his mother. To be fair, you don’t really know Bucky outside of him being a great listener and mixologist. Winnie laughs and talks with the both of you before politely excusing herself to take care of her other customers.

“Your mother?”

Bucky leans forward and locks eyes with you.

“I’m so sorry. She wasn’t meant to be working today, but you would have met her one way or another.”

There he goes again, that dizzying nonchalance that bleeds into every word he speaks. Your mouth opens to speak, but you're still in a state of stunned that has you stumbling on your words.

"I'm just kidding, Nutter Butter." Bucky laughs and you hum while picking at your cuticles.

"Sorry, just took me by surprise."

"Clearly."

Bucky glances at your hands that are resting on the table and shifts around his side of the booth. There's a brief moment of silence as you mull over what Winnie has said.

"Did she call you 'Jamie'?"

Bucky lets out a loud laugh. One of those laughs that sounds like the feeling snuck up on everyone, including the person laughing.

"That's what you focused on, Peanut?"

You're smiling more in the past five minutes with Bucky than you have in the past five months with John. Bucky stops shuffling and then removes his coffee cup from the saucer it sits on. He slides the tiny plate toward you as you talk.

"Thank you for meeting me, Buck. Like I said, I think I'm just getting too tired of his bullshit. He really came at me today with the attitude that this is all my fault." Bucky nods as you continue speaking, "As if I'm the one who asked for an open marriage."

Bucky reveals a Ziplock bag and dumps the contents of it into the saucer in front of you. You're just about to start a rant when he nudges a salty shell into your hands. You glance down for half a second before getting the ball rolling.

"John asked for this! He's the one that's causing all this... this turmoil in our relationship. I haven't gone on a single date! I haven't caused a single issue. All I've been trying to do is understand things from his point of view, but he won't even give me the time of day to do that. I can't even suggest something like marriage counseling because he runs out the door the second he sees me enter a goddamn room."

You stop to take another long sip of your coffee while Bucky sits back and lets you rant at him across from yet another counter. You can see him chewing on the inside of his cheek, clearly holding back from saying something.

"I don't even know what to do anymore!" You huff and shove your hair over your shoulder. "What do you think?"

"Do you want my honest opinion or do you want me to just be here for you?"

"I want you to be you."

"Okay." Bucky nods, you crack open yet another peanut and place the shell on a napkin next to the plate. "I think you should start considering divorcing ol' Johnny boy."

"I can't do that."

Your response is immediate. Too quick to be healthy really. The shell of the peanut cracks between your fingers, revealing the salty perfection inside.

"Alright, divorce is off the table. How do you feel about separation?"

"No."

"Why?"

"It goes against everything I was raised to believe. I was brought up under the idea that the person you marry is the person you stick next to no matter what."

"Even when that person isn't extending the same courtesy?"

"I just--" You sniffle, peeling open yet another peanut. "I just want to be loved, Bucky. I don't understand what I did to make him look for love and affection from someone other than me."

Bucky reaches across the table and covers your hand with his, rubbing his thumb against your knuckles soothingly. You found yourself in this same position three months ago. It was when Bucky first told you of his interest in dating you.

To be perfectly honest, you were about two slow blinks away from folding into his arms then. Nothing's changed. You're still half a second from completely melting for the man before you, but you can't get over the fact that you're married.

"Peanut, you may never understand his reasoning. Especially when he won't sit down and explain anything to you. I think you should do what's in your best interest. If you don't want to divorce or separate, then you need to surround yourself with people who will give you that love and affection that you need."

A soft lull coats the pair of you and you allow your eyes to lock with Bucky's. What you find there shocks you.

Pity is something that you never, ever want to experience, but with a shitty situation like your marriage, you've come to expect it. Every time you glance in a mirror or catch your reflection in a store window, or even a puddle of water, you find your own eyes layered with that sickening sadness that accompanies self-pity.

However, in Bucky's clear blue eyes, you find nothing but determination. Determination for what is the question you're now faced with. In all reality, Bucky has no dog in this fight. He has no reason to be helping you the way that he has. Bucky's expressed interest in you, sure, but that doesn't constitute going to the lengths that he does.

"I just want you to be happy."

"Do you think you could make me happy?"

"Absolutely."

You nod while popping the last peanut into your mouth and wiping your hands off on your jeans. You stand unceremoniously and then hold your hand out to Bucky. He stares at your outstretched hand in half-baked shock and then jumps at the opportunity.

"See ya later, Ma! Love ya."

"Will you be home for family dinner?"

"Nope, gotta take my Peanut to the ballgame!"

Bucky rushes you out of the diner and pulls you to a heavy-looking motorcycle. You laugh as he pries open one of the saddlebags on the bike. He reveals two helmets, one white and one black. Both have sleek features with a face cover that reflects Bucky's sharp features.

"What?" His laugh that follows is full of nervous energy as you continue to laugh. "What's so funny?"

"It just--" You snort quietly, "You would drive a motorcycle."

"Oh yeah? And why's that, Peanut Brittle?"

You wave your hand as if you're circling his whole body and shrug while smiling your ass off.

"You just gestured to all of me."

You both break into a fit of laughter, only for Bucky to break it off and unclip the chin strap of the white helmet.

"Well, does safety also fit with..." he does the same gesture as you, "all this?"

Bucky gently rests the helmet on the leather seat of the motorcycle and then leans over to you.

"You might want to pull your hair back. Trust me I love your hair down, but whenever you're riding it's easier in the long run."

"Oh, okay." You begin to pull your hair back when you remember that your hair tie is on the counter at your apartment. "Actually, I think I'll suffer the consequences."

Bucky glances at you and then asks, "You need a tie?"

He prompts you to turn around and he quickly coaxes your hair into a neat ponytail at the base of your neck. You turn back to him with wide eyes, your hand reaching back to check the hairstyle.

"Come on. I've got plans, Payday! I've got ideas to romance ya!"

You laugh while Bucky beams and puts the white helmet over your head. Once it's secured, he swipes the visor up and boops your nose. You scrunch it in retaliation and he shakes his head at you. He grips the sides of your helmet and tilts your head to the side. A loud Bluetooth signal sounds and a robotic female voice informs you that the device has been connected.

"So, basic rules of the bike. I lean, you lean." He taps on the side of the helmet he just fiddled with. "This is a microphone, so we'll be able to communicate without the visors being up. Don't be afraid to squeeze if you feel a little wobbly. I promise I can handle whatever you give me, Peanut."

You flush at his words, thankful that you're already wearing the helmet so he isn't privy to the bright red coloring overtaking your cheeks. Bucky slips on his own helmet and mounts the bike in one smooth motion. His hands glide to the handlebars and then he turns to face you and jerk his head in the opposite direction.

You release a deep breath and give yourself a mini pep talk before placing your hands on Bucky's shoulders. The difference between them keeps you grounded as you swing your leg over the back of the motorcycle. His voice shoots into your ears, a breathy fuck me that wasn't meant for your ears.

"You ready?"

This question is at a normal level, and you respond in kind. The bike roars to life beneath you and you jolt toward him, arms immediately wrapping around his waist tightly.

"Hold on tight, spider monkey."

You giggle and interlock your fingers above the waistline of his jeans. Now, you can feel every breath he takes, every minuscule contraction of his muscles from every movement he makes to control the beast between his legs. You try to take steady breaths in order to control your heartbeat and match Bucky's, but the faster he goes, the faster your heart beats against his back.

City lights blur past as you find your rhythm behind Bucky. The more comfortable you get, the looser your grip becomes around him. He takes you through downtown with all the newer, hipster restaurants inhabiting the busy streets. Bucky begins to slow and you look up to see his profile illuminated under the bright red of the traffic stop.

His feet rest on the ground beside the bike, holding it upright while it rumbles idly. Bucky leans back into you, his hands moving from the handlebars to your thighs. He traces the skin that's exposed by the rips of your jeans. The loose material allows just enough space for his fingers to burrow beneath and trace meaningless patterns into your skin.

Butterflies make themselves known in the pit of your stomach, along with another slightly less prominent heat building at his touch on your skin.

"We're almost there, Peanut Brittle." Bucky's voice is melodic through the microphone. You could fall asleep listening to him read a phone book.

The bike thunders to life again as Bucky releases the clutch. More buildings fade as he continues to steer the two of you down the less traveled streets.

"Where are you taking me?"

"Somewhere fun!"

He laughs at your little groan. Surprises aren't necessarily your favorite thing, but if it's Bucky, maybe it'll be tolerable.

Suddenly, Bucky drops his right hand from the bars and indicates his next turn. The pair of you lean in that direction slightly as he slows into a parking lot of a roller rink. The sign for the Rockin' Roller Rink has a bright yellow arrow blinking toward the building at the base of its billboard.

He rolls into a parking spot near the entrance and pops the kickstand out to steady the bike. You peel yourself off of his back and rest your hands on your thighs while taking in your surroundings. Bucky slips his helmet off and then turns his torso to face you.

"As much as I love you on my ride, Peanut, you have to get off first."

You flush red beneath the visor and quickly dismount. However, in your rush to get off, you don't realize how unstable your legs are as they bear your full weight after the ride. Bucky's hands shoot out to your waist as he remains on the bike, a wry grin on his lips.

"Sorry, should've warned you about that." He stands in front of you and dusts off your shoulders before deciding that you're okay. "It's because of the riding position when you're on the bike. If you aren't used to that, it can be a little jarring the first few times."

He takes your helmet and then removes the keys from the ignition. Bucky bends at the waist and hooks his key carabiner to your belt loops.

As he straightens to his full height, he remarks with a wink, "Plus, the vibrations don't help much either."

You squawk unattractively and smack his chest with the back of your hand while he belly laughs. His metal hand hovers over your lower back as he guides you into the double doors of the roller rink. While he pulls open the door for you, you think about all the times that your husband has failed to do even that act of basic decency.

You shake your head as you walk in, determined to put him out of your mind. That is until you remember the one stipulation of your open marriage--you both have to disclose when you go on dates. Your mind drifts to all the unanswered texts he's sent you about his various dates. Little quips that accomplish nothing but remind you that your husband sees you as less than. A relationship that he no longer has to put effort into and hasn't for some time now. You take your phone from your back pocket to shoot John a quick text, a sour look overtaking your face as you do.

On a date, be home later. You’re quick to swipe your phone onto do not disturb and shove it back into your pocket. You aren’t ready to face the hypocrisy that John will manage to cook up.

"You okay, Peanut?" Bucky's voice clears everything. All the swirling doubt, the immense turmoil that you feel when you think of John, everything negative is wiped when you focus on Bucky.

Perhaps that's also an issue. Maybe you need to be single instead of dating. Maybe you need to love yourself before anyone else can effectively love you. What if that's the real issue? The real reason why John had to seek affection outside of your marital bonds. Maybe it was because you were so unloveable to the point that it was more effort to work through your issues than find an effortless partner somewhere else.

A cold finger taps your temple causing you to blink harshly and refocus on the man before you. This man who's become your safe haven, your harbor in this horrific storm that is your marriage. The man who brings peanuts to his mother's diner because you called him to meet up. The man who knows you better than your husband who you've known for half your life.

"The wheels," your bartender reminds you as he pulls you to the side of the room. His arms envelop you until all you can process is biceps, one cold and one warm. Bucky's cheek rests against your head and you can't find it in yourself to stop from melting into his touch. "How about this," he shifts away from you just enough to meet your eyes, "you just take it one hour at a time?"

"One hour?" You ask, brows furrowing skeptically at the concept. You've never been someone who just focuses on the thing in front of you. Your whole life you had a plan--get married, have kids, and secure a stable home life. Although, now that you think about it, your way isn't really that effective. What has your way got you? A decaying marriage, no kids, and a job that you tolerate at most.

"Just one at a time. Nothing can be that daunting if it's one at a time." He smiles big and leans forward, "And let's face it, your first hour is going to be spent watching me almost bust my ass on rollerblades."

You giggle and look at the ground, only for Bucky to lift your face up with a finger on your chin. He stares deep into your eyes, making you think if you stare long enough, you'll meld into one. His grip changes so that most of his fingers cup your jaw, allowing his thumb to trace your bottom lip. His metal finger tugs downward on your lip, releasing it from the hold between your teeth.

"That's definitely one of my current favorite noises you make." He struts off to the front counter, you trailing behind with a confused look on your face at his dopey smile. The implications of his comment seeping into your bones causing a deep heat to light in the pit of your stomach.

As you approach the teller, Bucky's already disclosed his shoe size for the rental pair of skates. The teenager behind the counter makes a bored grunt at the instruction and turns to you, waiting for your size before they trot off to fill the order. Once again, you're left alone with your bartender.

You lean against the raised platform, shoulder digging into the overhanging lip of the counter. During this brief moment of solitude, you take your time taking in Bucky. He really is a mountain of a man, coming in at six-foot-five inches of corded muscle and steel, he's really nothing less than impressive.

His hair just brushes the top of his broad shoulders, though you hardly ever see it down. He always manages to have it tied securely at the base of his neck. However one time, you remember walking into the bar only to see Bucky behind the bar, as usual. Except his hair was bundled on the top of his head. Little wisps of hair fell from the looser hold, framing his forehead and neck. On top of that, he was wearing a red henley that was at least two sizes too small with the sleeves rolled up, showing off his differing forearms in the dim light of Commandos.

It's safe to say that during those few hours you spent with Bucky looking like that, you were a little slower to respond. What's interesting though is that Bucky looks nothing like John. You always thought that John was your ideal man. Based on who you married, you would have assumed you'd be more attracted to Steve than Bucky. Instead, you find yourself lacing up a pair of rental roller skates, that might give you athlete's foot if you're not careful, with the imposing dark-haired man next to you.

"Why bartending?"

The question floats between you as you take the floor. Glistening hardwood reflects the bright neon of the strobe lights and your image beside Bucky. You watch as he glances down at you before refocusing his attention on the path in front of him.

"Well, if I'm being honest, I kind of stumbled into it." He wobbles dangerously as he speaks, hand jutting out to grasp yours in an act of safety. "Shit, sorry." He apologizes sheepishly but makes no move to drop your hand.

You giggle beside him, butterflies awakening from his act of self-comfort, a feeling you haven't felt since your relationship with John began. Bucky squeezes your hand, straightens his back, and pulls you around the rink.

"When I was discharged, it wasn't so much as bartending as it was the ownership of the bar. It gave me a chance to gain some semblance of control back." He stares off into the distance as he speaks as if he's reciting words he said time and time before. You peer up at him, waiting for the rest of his explanation.

Even though you've known Bucky for as long as you have, neither of you has really delved too deep into your pasts. To say you know next to nothing about Bucky's time in the military would be generous. You hum while you ponder his answer.

"Does that need carry into other aspects of your life?"

It's a genuine question, something to move the conversation along because you honestly want to know more about the man beside you. The double entendre of the question doesn't process until you see Bucky blushing beside you with a wry grin. Your eyes bulge, words stammering out of your mouth without finding their full forms.

"Oh-- uh, n— that's not wh--" Your eyes drop to the ground beneath you, the sleek wood reflecting the neon disco of the roller rink lights.

Bucky chuckles beside you, slowly rubbing his thumb against the knuckles of the hand he still holds. He steers the pair of you to the side of the rink, locking you against the slightly sticky bannister with his strong forearms. You quickly level him with a questioning stare as he leans forward and takes a deep breath, undoubtedly getting a strong whiff of your soft vanilla and cherry perfume.

“I’m trying to be very good for you, Peanut. So I’m going to say this once and then we’re going to continue with our date and it isn’t going to come up again until you bring it up yourself.” Your nod is almost imperceptible, but considering how Bucky continues without consequence, you figure he was just mentally preparing himself for his next comment.

“I am enamored with you. I want to have sex with you. I have fantasies that revolved exclusively around you. However, I’m not putting any pressure on this relationship or you. I understand that you need time to process your grief and your marriage, but just know that I’m more than happy to help you through the process and I certainly hope that I’m the first one you go to once you get to a place when you feel confident enough to explore your sexuality.”

You flush at his words, a hot streak racing up your spine before settling in your cheeks, blossoming them into a heavy shade of crimson. Bucky’s left hand comes up to your forehead, brushing away a strand of hair out of your face.

“But not only that, I want to have a relationship with you. I want the late night cuddles. I want the early morning breakfasts. I want to come home from the bar and take a shower with you. I want to wash your hair. I want you to massage my shoulders after a long day. I want to host Saturday barbecues with you for my family and our friends. I want to drive you to the bookstore and regret driving the motorcycle after you get so many because I just can’t say no to you.”

Bucky’s hand drifts down your arm, tracing the soft skin, taking his time to lace his fingers with yours. He pulls you away from the ledge, leading you two into the hustle and bustle of the roller rink. A smile stretches across his features as he tugs you along, a slow steady silence backed by the bumping base of the house music. You fumble with who to respond to him, but you eventually decide that no words are necessary. You know that yiu’ll be able to discuss things further later, you allow yourself to fall into the comfortable company that is your favorite bartender.

Time passes by at a rate you aren’t able to fathom. One moment you’re skating circles around Bucky, laughing as his arms jut out to his sides, steadying himself as he sways and wobbles. You flit out of his reach for a beat only for his arms to wrap around your waist, bringing you to his warm front. You squeal as you clutch his arms, the difference in temperature providing a level of comfort that you’ve been craving for months now.

You tilt your head back to rest on his shoulder, his long hair tickling the apples of your cheek. Soft puffs of air hit your face as he peers down at you, his gaze flickering between your eyes and your lips. He remains stoic, only his eyes giving you any indication that he wants more out of your current embrace.

“Attention all Rockin’ Roller Rink patrons, the rink will be closing in ten minutes! Please return all skates and other rentals to the front desk before leaving.”

The voice over the loudspeaker startles you causing you to jump in Bucky’s embrace. He tightens his hold on you, ensuring that you don’t topple over on your wheels. You breathe out a heavy sigh creating a slight distance between you.

“Come on, let’s go.”

Bucky is quick to follow you to the benches on the side to you could change your shoes so you can return the skates. You’re sure to take out your phone from your back pocket before sitting down. Against your better judgement, you swipe across the screen to turn off the silencing option. The screen illuminates and dozens of notifications flood the screen and you cringe. You shouldn’t feel bad, yore only doing what constitutes an open marriage. You sent the text, that was all that was required of you, and let’s be honest even that was more than what John deserves. Bucky leans back, shooting a glance at your now busy phone.

“Wow, he sure doesn’t miss a beat, does he?”

“Yeah, I’m sure everything he’s texted me the past two hours has been entirely supportive and not at all condescending or hostile.” Sarcasm bleeds into your words, making Bucky chuckle under his breath.

“Oh, ol’ Johnny boy? Nah, he’s nothing but a big old softy who knows that he’s only getting it as good as he’s giving it.” You huff at the comment just as your phone begins to buzz on the tabletop.

A groan leaves your mouth, slipping out before you can filter it. Bucky eyes you as your finger swipes the call button to accept. You haven’t even gotten the phone to your ear before John’s voice carries through the speaker, shouting expletives and derogatory remarks about you.

“Are you fucking kidding me? You’re on a fucking date right now? I can’t believe you!”

Your whole body cringes, and you rush to shove your shoes on to take the call outside. You leave without saying a word to Bucky, unable to look him in the eye while the supposed love of your life berates you over the phone.

“John, I don’t know what you’re upset about.” You tried to remain calm while he carried on. “I followed the single rule that you set in place.”

Bucky takes your free hand and leads you to his bike, leaning against the seat while he watches you pace in front of him. Your once smooth features are now ridged and tense, worry lines aging you ten years the second you get on the phone with John. Your forefinger and thumb find home on the bridge of your nose, pinching the bone there to prevent the sudden headache. You finally stop in your tracks, stomping your foot out of exasperation and then steel your voice.

“I refuse to allow you to speak to me this way, John. You’re the one that opened our marriage, I’m simply following the precedent that you set. I honestly have no idea what your issue with this is.” Your eyes dart to Bucky, “Now, I don’t feel comfortable coming home when you’re speaking to me like this over the phone, so don’t wait up. I’ll come home when you cool off.”

Tears begin to rim your lash line as John continues to shout his lungs bloody. You refuse to meet Bucky’s eyes as you lower the phone, thumb hovering over the end call button. A dark metal palm extends your way, a silent ask for the phone that you don’t have the strength to deny. Bucky watches you as he brings the phone to his ear, listening to your husband’s rant.

“This is completely fucking ridiculous! You’re my wife and I demand you come home and we talk this out like adults. You’re being so unreasonable, right now. And the fact that you think it’s acceptable to text me you’re on a date instead of asking if you could go on one? Who the fuck do you think you are? It’s best you remember who you belong to. You’re so in for it whe—“

Bucky laughs, your head shoots up, eyes locking with his for the first time since you’ve evacuated the roller rink. The laugh is a short, sardonic laugh. One you’ve never heard him make before, almost as if he’s using it as a throat clear. Your breath catches in your throat, knowing how John reacts to being challenged in any capacity.

“Now, I don’t know who you think you are, talking to my Peanut the way that you are. But I’ll tell you one thing for damn sure, you aren’t going to be speaking to her that way ever again.”

It’s another thing about Bucky you’ve never experienced. His tone. It’s dull, lifeless, but full threats that made your skin grow cold and your spine stiffen. You knew Bucky would never cause you harm, but those who hurt the people he loved? The same respect isn’t extended.

“And who the fuck is this?”

“I’m the guy.”

He’s eerily calm, the type of calm you’ve never seen him. You’ve been a distant onlooker while he deals with rowdy bar guests, having to throw out drunk customers who reached their limit and then some. But this… this was something else. John is still yelling, sure to be disturbing your neighbors earning you yet another noise complaint, possibly the one that gets you evicted from your apartment.

“What guy?”

“The guy that’s going to rip your spine out through your throat if you threaten my girl again.”

The world stills. The noisy streets of Brooklyn fade as you search Bucky’s eyes for any semblance of a joke. His eyes have darkened, latching onto yours with a depth that you’ve never seen in them. He reaches for you, pulling you in between his legs by your belt loop. You can hear the stammering on the other end clearly, John’s never had anyone stand up to him with such sincerity.

“If you’re done being a pussy, I’m a little preoccupied. If you’d like to continue this conversation, you may do so anytime at my bar. Howling Commandos. You can Google it and me in your free time. Right now, I’m on a date and you’re interrupting it and disturbing my girl.” Bucky’s hand snakes around your waist, pressing his chin to your chest while maintaining eye contact with you. “Now, apologize to her.”

He switches the phone to speaker mode, allowing you to hear the weakness invading John’s voice. All the while, Bucky’s eyes never leave yours. Your body melts into him, his warmth something that you didn’t realize you were craving. John stammers on his end of the phone, eking out excuses as to not apologize. Bucky clears his throat once more, the action causing his Adam’s apple to bob against your breasts.

“Apologize, Johnny boy.”

“I’m sorry, Y/N.”

Three monotonous beeps echo out into the silent parking lot. Wind whips against your cheeks, igniting a shiver through your body. He shoves your phone into his front pocket before wrapping his other hand around your waist. Bucky shifts again, pressing his forehead into your stomach instead of staring up at you. Your arms come up around his shoulders, burying your face into his soft hair.

“Thank you.”

Bucky says nothing in return, squeezing your middle before pulling back to meet your gaze.

“Let’s go, you can stay at mine.”

He pushes against your hips so he can reposition himself over the bike. You’re quick to stop him, remarking something about him just taking you to a hotel for the night. He cuts you off before you can fully finish your sentence.

“I’m sorry Peanut, but you surely don’t think I’m about to let you spend the night at some sketch hotel by yourself. And I’m certainly not going to let you go back to that apartment with that temperamental skeeze of a husband you have.”

“Let me?” You back up, resting your hand on your now cocked hip.

“Peanut.” Bucky stares up at you, “I didn’t mean it in that way. I’m sorry. I’m only saying that I want you to be safe and I don’t feel comfortable leaving you in either of those environments. I would be much for comfortable if you came home with me so that I could protect you.”

You shoulders relax, in the back of your mind, you know that he didn’t mean anything by it. John always sets you on edge, and it’s unfair of you to put those emotions onto Bucky.

“You’re right, I’m sorry. It’s just… John.” Your sentence trails off, no ending really needed because you know that Bucky understands.

“Come on. Get on, Peanut Butter. We aren’t far from my place.”

You mount Bucky’s bike, his left hand immediately going to your thigh, his fingers threading themselves between the rips of your jeans to feel the soft skin of your knee. The ride to Bucky’s apartment is quiet, the rumbling of the motorcycle beneath you is powerful and steady. Every chance he got, Bucky would slip his fingers into the rips of your jeans, aching to be close to you in every way possible. You lean forward, resting your helmeted head against his back while he drives.

If there was one thing that you never would have guessed, it’s that Bucky Barnes would have pale green wallpaper in his apartment. Not just a pale green, he proudly declares that it’s agate green, the color he spent weeks painstakingly debating between that and nurture green. You giggle as you toe your shoes off at the front door, quietly taking in his personal space.

The exposed brick melds with the dark countertops in a way that’s almost soothing. The pendant lights above the island cast a soft glow over the open floor plan. Bucky turns to face you, peeling off his leather jacket and hanging it on a hook beside the door. You catch his eyes, only to be distracted by the wall of bookshelves on the far end of his apartment.

“Oh my god, Bucky I had no idea you were so interested in reading.”

He laughs, shoving his hands in his front pockets while walking behind you as you approach the stacks of books he has scattered throughout his home.

“I’ve always enjoyed reading. When I was deployed there wasn’t much to do other than read. I had my Ma send me all different kinds of books, from new releases to her favorite classics to stuff my little sister was reading in school.” He stands beside you, shoulder to shoulder as you glance up at him. “Guess I never kicked the habit, though there are worse vices that a person could have.”

You hum, refocusing your attention on the books, but only for a second as Bucky reaches his hand out and leads you up the stairs to the lofted bedroom. Bucky’s comforter matches the green walls that sits behind his TV. Not only that, but his pillow cases vary from overly fluffy to soft silks. The mixture of textures and fabrics is almost too much for your brain to comprehend. You’re about to question it when Bucky returns to your line of sight, a dark Henley in one hand and a pair of boxers in the other.

“I don’t have any pajamas for you, but you can wear these.”

He’s almost sheepish as he presents you with the clothes, a light blush casting over his cheeks. It’s so interesting to interact with him. At times, he’s the most suave man you’ve ever met, and at others, it’s like he’s a lovestruck teenager who’s just got their first girlfriend.

You thank him and follow behind him as he leads you to the en-suite bathroom. Just as Bucky begins to explain where everything is, he bends down to the bottom cabinets and retrieves a spare toothbrush.

“Planning for extra company, huh?” You joke while poking him in the side as he stands next to you in the doorway.

Bucky’s tongue peaks out of his mouth, his teeth catching on his bottom lip as he stares down at you. His eyes do that thing again, the same thing he did just before he laid out his feelings for you earlier. Your breath catches in your throat, is he leaning closer? Are you inching toward him? What are you doing?

“Bucky,” the tension breaks, a dam of emotions behind held back by your dedication to your marriage. “I feel like I should explain.”

His hands rest on your shoulders, quick to silence your worries. He leans forward, dotting a quick kiss to your forehead. Bucky lingers, the soft press of his lips shoots warm and fuzzy feelings through your bones.

“Tomorrow. You’ve had a long night. We can talk about everything in the morning.”

A weight of anxiety lifts from your shoulders as you watch Bucky begins descend the stairs, lush blankets and pillows in hand. You turn back to his room, allowing yourself to sink into his private space.

You peel back the duvet and sit on the edge of his mattress, unsure if you should fully dive into his being. If you’re quiet enough you can hear Bucky downstairs, shuffling on the couch in an attempt to find a comfortable position.

Your eyeline floats over his bedside table, the lamp atop it casting a pale yellow glow over the entire room. The surface next to you is covered in items that are unequivocally Bucky—a worn copy of Journey to the Center of the Earth, a leather bound journal, the few gold rings that he something adorns his digits with while bartending. His rings clink against each other as your fingers drift over the cold metal.

Among his assorted objects is your phone on his charger. The light pink case is slightly out of place, but not enough to be obnoxious. You smile to yourself while lying back in his sheets.

You really do owe him an explanation. Bucky deserves more than some broken woman who’s in a shitty marriage. He deserves the world and then some. All you can offer is a somewhat clear thought process.

You think on John’s actions today. He really showed you his true colors. You start to wonder if he really cares about you or if just cares about having a wife. If it’s the second one, why does it have to be you?

You flip to the other side, now facing the back wall of windows. Your mind is about as calm as the city right now. New York is never quiet, even this far out in Brooklyn. You’re never safe from the light pollution that constantly blocks out the beauty that is the natural night sky.

It makes you long for your hometown, the wide open spaces with vast fields of nothingness that stretch for miles on end. Maybe it’s time you pay it a visit. It would be nice to escape the hodge podge of a life you’re currently living.

Squeezing your eyes shut, you force yourself to slow your breathing. Distantly you can hear Bucky begin to snore, a low monotonous sound that you cling to. For the first time in months you feel secure. Your muscles decompress, your brow unfurls and you allow yourself to truly relax.

With everything that’s going on, Bucky deserves more. You deserve more, but that can all wait until tomorrow.

Tomorrow. That’s a good thought.

#bartender!bucky x reader #bucky x reader #sebastian stan #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #bucky x you #bucky barnes fanfiction #bartender!bucky x peanut!reader #bucky x peanut #consequences #ray's writing #bartender!bucky barnes x peanut!reader #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes au #bartender!bucky #bartender!bucky barnes x you #bartender!bucky barnes x y/n #bartender!bucky x you

[shrimpscrawling]

Woke up hungover and menstruating but it’s okay because Andrew Hozier has saved the world

#I haven’t listened yet #I have a long train journey in the dusk later #the vibes are going to be so so immaculate #I’m so exited #andrew hozier byrne #hozier #the hoziest #unreal unearth #francesca #dante’s inferno #catholiscism #lesbian #new music #music

[myfictionaldreams]

I Don’t Care // Mafia!Stuck x fem!reader

Summary: Request on AO3: 'The reader having a menstrual cycle, this one just a little worse than others, and Steve and Bucky worrying and helping her through it.'

Tags: 18+ readers only, smut, threesome, dom/sub, fluff/comfort, period sex, mentions of blood, description of cramps, daddy kink, sir kink, vaginal fingering, choking, multiple orgasms, intense, cockwarming, overprotective, possessive behaviour, size different, praise kink

Words: 5.7k

my masterlist 📚 AO3 Link

Mother nature had decided to curse your life today. Every 28 days without fail, your period would be an inconvenience but never to this extent, praying to whatever god was listening to save you from the excruciating waves of pain ripping through your uterus. Not only this, but it was affecting your entire body, feeling drained with fatigue, nauseous and a migraine slowly creeping through your temple.

You were mentally officially done with the day, and thankfully the anticipated meeting with Johann Schmidt was finished and successfully had gone according to plan, which meant no murders and happy handshakes to new beginnings. There were a few relaxed moments after waving them off and you were rushing to the toilet, needing to just sit and mentally process how you were going to survive the rest of the day.

Even though everyone was preparing to leave, there was still food shopping that needed to be completed which was a chore in of itself. Having to buy food for two grown men that ate triple the amount of any normal person was energy draining but now only this, in the evening, to celebrate the new partnership, Steve was taking the two groups to the fanciest restaurant in town.

Groaning, you doubled over in pain as you sat on the toilet, wishing to stay here instead or maybe, cuddled up on the sofa with Bucky and Steve but no, life wasn’t this simple, you’d need to suck it up and get on with the day and hoped it passed by quickly and at least the meeting was over.

Deciding to face the music, you finished using the bathroom, splashing some cool water on your face before exiting, only to come face to face with Bucky who was leaning against the wall, staring at the watch on his wrist.

“Good timing mama, another 30 seconds and I would have been coming in there. Didn’t think it was appropriate to be rushing into the female toilets but you’ve been a while”. Smiling softly at him, you walked over, watching as he extended his arms to pull your body against his chest.

“Overprotective Oaf, can’t a girl go to the toilet anymore without being timed”, you sarcastically mumbled into his shirt, taking a deep breath of his expensive cologne, and leaning into his unnaturally warm body.

“Wow oaf is a new one, thanks Doll”, he retorted but could feel his smile as he rested his mouth against the top of your head, his arms circling your shoulders. “I don’t usually time you in the toilet either, just worried was all, no offence but you’re looking a little peaky today”.

You could have stayed in that one spot all day, his gigantic body just completely dwarfing yours, like a boyfriend cocoon. This was until another cramp ripped through your abdomen, causing you to tense and scrunch your face to stop from audibly shouting. Bucky felt the change, his arms squeezing you tighter before easing himself back so he was able to cup your face, thumb stroking against your cheek.

“That bad, huh?”

“A little yeah. It’s fine, I’m due some pain relief now anyway, I’ll be ok”, it was a lie of course but you didn’t want to worry him or Steve, if it wasn’t obvious, they could be a little dramatic when it came to your welfare. Not that it wasn’t appreciated, but it was only food shopping and a meal then tomorrow, you could all stay in bed if that was what you wanted.

“You’re a bad liar”, he remarked, tilting your face up, capturing your lips in a tender kiss that had you momentarily forgetting about the pain, until a burning hot pain sparked through your head. It almost took your breath away more than the kiss, so much so you had to pull back and take a deep breath, in through your nose and out through your mouth, you could do this.

“Come on Buckaroo, let’s get going”. Bucky didn’t say another word but kept his cool metal hand around yours, leading back to the car where Steve was waiting in the back. Bucky held the door open for you and then climbed into the passenger seat, next to Sam who was driving.

“Everything ok?” Steve asked you softly as you fastened your seat belt, his hand resting against your thigh which was only an invitation for you to cuddle into his muscular arm, leaning your head on his shoulder.

“Yeah”, you responded softly, trying to keep your composure and not flinch as dizziness rocked your body as the car began to drive.

Bucky shifted in his seat before turning, offering you a bottle of water and some pain relief. Offering your thanks, you swallowed the pills with half of the bottle of water, hoping it would also settle the nauseous sensation in your stomach. Leaning back into Steve’s arm, he turned to kiss your temple.

“Where to Boss?” Sam asked Steve.

“Home please, Wilson”.

“Wait no, Sam could you please take us to the store, we still need to go shopping, remember?”

Your eyes flicked between Steve and Sam as the latter looked back at Steve in the rear-view mirror, waiting for confirmation. “Baby, let’s just go home, you need to get some rest”.

Rolling your eyes, you tried to play it off, “I’m fine, and we need to go today we have absolutely nothing in the cupboard, it won’t take us long”. The last part of your sentence was more a hope for you and even though you’d love nothing more than to go home if you didn’t go food shopping today then you’d be forced to go tomorrow and there was no way you were leaving the house tomorrow.

Steve didn’t say anything, only nodded at Sam for him to continue to the shop, the hand against your thigh squeezed but you weren’t paying attention, closing your eyes to stop the nauseous sensation.

It didn’t take long to get to the store and once inside, you gave Bucky the duty of drink refills and Steve fresh fruit and vegetables whilst you’d go to the tin aisle and load up the shopping cart there.

Whilst walking up the second aisle, one of the worst cramps you’d ever experienced destroyed your insides. You could feel the contraction of your uterus, the pain so much that you had to double over and lean against the shelves, biting your lower lip to refrain from moaning in pain, aware that there were still other people shopping and didn’t want too many odd looks.

Trying to concentrate on your breathing, you’d squeezed your eyes so tight that now you were beginning to feel even dizzier, it was an endless cycle of pain.

A warm hand was suddenly easing under your head and shoulder, helping to turn your body until it was leaning into the much bigger and more comforting body of Bucky. You could smell his aftershave before he was even touching you. “Shh that’s it, lean into my body, I’ve got you. Keep taking those deep breaths, the pain will fade”. His words were softly whispered into your ear as he held his metal hand against the back of your head and the other massaged your lower back.

Even though you were hoping to keep up the strong exterior and play off that your period cramps were not as bad as they were, you could not deny the way Bucky and Steve treated you had the butterflies flying in your stomach.

Bucky was right, the pain did begin to fade to a dull ache that left you feeling uncomfortable but able to stand back up and resume shopping. “Sor-” you began but your boyfriend was quick to cut off your words.

“Don’t apologise, never apologise to me”, his sincerity was pulling at your heartstrings, and unsure why tears were suddenly springing to your eyes so you quickly looked to the floor to hide them.

“I hate being on my period, messing with my emotions, do you have to be so nice?” you tried to joke, causing Bucky to chuckle softly and kiss your temple once more, always so affectionate.

Another hand joined your spine, rubbing up and down as Steve stepped behind you, his breath fanning across your cheek as he gave you a quick peck before his spare hand lifted to capture the tears that were dripping down your cheeks.

“Go back to the car baby girl, we’ll finish this” Steve encouraged, keeping his voice low. With your position between the two mafia members, you’d momentarily forgotten that you were in the middle of a store, and not in a little private bubble but with the size of their bodies, you basically were.

Hastily wiping away the remaining tears, you tried to regain some energy, “no it’s ok, I can carry on and neither of you knows what we need to buy anyway”.

 Steve smirked down at you, “I’m sure we can manage and if we forget anything major, we’ll just send Sam to come and get it for us”.

“Are you sure-?”

“Yes! Now please go back to the car”, Bucky gave you a little nudge in the direction of the exit. You laughed at them both, they always managed to make you smile, even if it was for a brief second.

“Everything ok, boss lady?” Sam asked nicely as you climbed into the car as he sat waiting in it.

You were exhausted, lying across the back of the seats, automatically pulling your knees up to your chest like a ball, finding the position that helped most with the cramps, facing the back seat so Sam couldn’t see your face. “Yeah, just need a little break”.

It seemed your ordeal wasn’t over just yet as the next wave of cramps continued, and now in the comfort of the car, even with Sam, you couldn’t hold back gasps of agony.

Unaware of how much time had passed but soon the car was being filled with shopping bags and Steve was helping you to sit up, thumbs brushing away the tears that had begun to fall again. “Let’s get you home”, he nodded to Sam as you fell back into the same position as before, but instead of resting his hand on your thigh, he lifted your top, unbuttoning your jeans to give him access to your abdomen.

Steve and Bucky, as well as being able to eat the same amount as a small village, ran at unnatural temperatures so as his warm fingers began to massage to pained area, you couldn't help but release a relieved groan.

As you returned home, you felt completely drained, limping to the toilet to try and feel refreshed as the boys emptied the car of the groceries which you were thankful for, even going as far as to empty the bags.

It was Steve’s turn to stand guard outside the toilet but unlike Bucky, he didn’t wait for you to be in there for a specific amount of time before knocking. “Can I come in?”

“I don’t think you want to see this right now”, you shouted softly to him, cleaning yourself up quickly before flushing the toilet. After washing your hands and splashing some more cool water onto your face, you exited the toilet to find him smiling kindly down at you, waiting patiently.

“You know I don’t care about those kinds of things”, he reminded you, holding out a hand for you to hold.

You accepted it, loving the feeling of his rough large fingers compared to yours as he slowly pulled you in the direction of the couch in the living room. “Yes I know that but it’s particularly bad today” you referred to your heavy flow. Neither Steve nor Bucky was at all phased by your period, reminding you on countless occasions that they are surrounded by blood a lot for their job and this was different, it was you, it was natural and all they wanted to do was help you.

“Again, I don’t care, honey”, he gently eased the two of you down, making sure that your legs were thrown over his two muscular thighs, head on his shoulder so that he could rest his cheek against you, his facial hair tickling your forehead slightly. Not that you cared as his arms encircled you, one supporting around your back, keeping your body against his, and the other rested on your abdomen again, continuing with the massaging.

Groaning with relief, your face nuzzled into him closer, hand gripping his crisp white shirt, creasing it slightly but neither of you cared. “That feels so good”, you praised him.

“Close your eyes, get some rest”.

This was exactly what you then proceeded to do. Only taking a matter of seconds of being in his heated embrace to fall into a deep sleep. A few hours later you naturally awoke, finding Steve with his eyes closed, for a second you’d suspected he had also fallen asleep but his fingers were still massaging away at your abdomen, even after all this time, surprised that he hadn’t got a hand cramp yet.

Kissing his chin to show that you were awake, your fingers gripped around the arm supporting your body, lifting to look at the time on his watch, seeing that it was nearly the evening.

Pushing on his arm, you attempted to stand but were stopped by his grip tightening, keeping you in his lap. “Where are you going?”

“I’m going to get changed, we’re leaving soon”, your voice cracked from having just woken up, fingers brushing your eyes to wipe some of the tiredness away.

“That’s not happening anymore”, he casually remarked, undoing his top button.

“What do you mean it’s not happening? It needs to happen, Johann made it very clear earlier that this needed to happen.”

Steve casually shrugged his shoulders, “I’ll deal with it, now relax, I was comfortable”.

You were dumbfounded by his confidence, your anxiety couldn’t cope when he was like this, it was much easier to just go for this meal than to try and sweet talk Johann around again. Trying and failing again to stand, you released a heavy sigh. “Steve please, I’ll be fine, it won’t take us long”.

It was at this time that Bucky returned, a towel around his neck and nothing on but his sneakers and a pair of training shorts, having come from the gym in the basement. You couldn’t help but look over his toned abs, littered with contrasting scars from his time in the Rogers mafia. “How are you feeling now?” He asked, taking a seat in the chair next to the couch.

“Better thank you. Can you tell him that we need to start getting ready soon? He’s come up with the disastrous plan to cancel dinner with Johann”.

Bucky sat back casually, the muscles in his abs flexing slightly, once again drawing your attention before you looked back into his smug blue eyes. “Firstly, I can’t tell the boss to do anything and you know that and secondly, I’ve already sent the message to cancel, so no changing it now”.

You moved around on Steve’s lap so that you could properly face the blonde who was watching you with casual arrogance knowing he had got his way or no way at all. “Why would you do that?”

“You know why I did that”, his voice remained calm as his eyes searched your face so you sat further back onto his knees and that’s when you felt it, something hadn’t felt right since waking up and this was it.

Glancing down, you noticed a dark patch on his navy dress trousers from where you’d been sitting. In your rush to leave the bathroom, you must have placed the pad in at the wrong angle on your underwear, and now you’d leaked onto your boyfriend's lap. Steve looked down, his face remaining the same, calm and confident.

“It’s ok”, his hands lifted to stroke your upper arms but you brushed them off. Your entire body seemed to heat up as the embarrassment set in.

“I’m..I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to.”

“I know you didn’t baby, it’s fine”, his casualness about the situation didn’t help your panic as you pushed off of his chest to stand, knees wobbling slightly as the inkling of another wave of cramps threatened to start from the sudden movement.

“Be careful mama, it’s ok-”, Bucky tried to reach for you now but you were so embarrassed, needing to get away from both of them for a minute, racing up the stairs as your heart pounding in your chest. Finally getting to the master bedroom, you were able to lock yourself in the ensuite toilet, taking off your now blood-stained jeans and underwear, cursing again at mother nature for letting her add to the list of bad things that had happened that day.

Now you were in the bathroom, you weren’t sure what to do with yourself. You didn’t have a change of clothes and you couldn’t go back out there because, by the sounds of it, both men had followed you up the stairs and probably getting changed. Your cheeks burst with heat at the thought of Steve’s ruined trousers.

Maybe you could take a bath or a shower, which sometimes helped with the pain but you weren’t able to decide as your uterus contracted with another cramp and it was probably the worst one yet. A deep groan slipped from your lips as you doubled over, leaning your forehead against the countertop, knees straining to keep you from collapsing to the floor and crawling into a ball.

The door handle turned as you made the pained noise, but seeing as you had locked the door, it didn’t open and therefore was swiftly followed by a knock. “If you don’t open this door right now, I’m breaking it down.”

Rolling your eyes at the possessive tone in Steve’s voice, you hobbled over to the bathroom door, clicked the lock and walked back to face your shame, standing in nothing but your shirt and bra.

What you hadn’t anticipated was Steve walking over the threshold and within one step was cupping your jaw, tilting your head back and kissing you fiercely enough that it took your breath away. It took a moment of shock to wear off before your hands gripped onto his wrists, holding him close, kissing him back with as much passion. Even trying to reach onto your tip toes to get closer.

Steve was quick to discard your shirt and bra, so fast you hadn’t even realised he was undoing the buttons until the cool air coated your skin. Pulling back from the kiss as his tongue teased, you pushed against his chest, “Steve wait-”

The mafia boss did not wait. No, he had his own idea in mind as his mouth was back onto yours, body pushing back until your lower back found the cool countertop behind. In another second, his hands were gripping the back of your thighs, lifting you until your bare arse was sitting on the side.

This truly snapped you out of the lust-filled trance he had captured you within. Pushing once more against his chest, your face dropped down so he couldn’t distract you with his devilish tongue. “Steve stop, I’m not wearing any underwear, I need to put a pad on or something.”

It wasn’t Steve who responded but Bucky who was watching at the door, now in a pair of joggers and an old t-shirt, casually leaning against the door frame. He was chuckling as he admired your body. “When are you going to get it Doll, we really and I mean, REALLY, don’t care about that stuff”.

Steve moved his seduction tour to your neck, leaving open-mouth kisses sending shivers through your spine as he inched his way up to the shell of your ear. “What am I going to have to do to make you understand that I don’t care about a little bit of blood, my love”.

You glanced down at the patch on his trousers, biting your lip before reminding him, “but I’ve ruined your trousers, and you’ve had to cancel the dinner because of me”.

Steve finally leaned back, resting his weight on his arms on either side of your thighs as his own blue eyes flicked between yours. “I’ve cancelled the dinner today because you’re in pain and I’m not going to force you to dress up in clothes that won’t make you feel comfortable or leave the comfort of your own home just for a fucking meal with Johann Schmidt. My trousers, they’re replaceable, they don’t mean shit to me, but you know what does? You. So please explain to me what I need to do for you to get into that beautiful brain of yours, what I can do to show that I really couldn’t give a shit about a little bit of blood”.

He always knew the right things to say, enough that you had to once again hide your face to hide the tears.

Your boyfriend had other ideas however as his hand teased up the sensitive part of your inner thighs. You knew his intended destination and reached out quickly to grip his wrist, stopping him, looking up with wide eyes, his words already forgotten about.

“Steve wait, I’m bleeding-”

He tilted his head in a knowing look, pushing easily against your grip until his fingers delved into your folds, brushing against your clit. You gasped, bodily jolting slightly. Steve lifted his other hand, wrapping it around your throat, pushing back until your body rested against the wall-length mirror.

“What did I say? I don’t care about a little bit of blood, now. Open”.

His tone went straight to your core, he rarely ordered things from you as your submissive tendencies meant you were rushing to do them anyway but with your anxiety holding you back, he decided to use his authority which instantly sent you into a horny mess.

“Yes sir”, you responded a moment later, trying to ignore the pounding of your heart that he undoubtedly felt beneath his fingertips at your throat, as you opened your legs wider to him, giving him better access.

“Good girl”, the praise was like music to your ears as you were forced to watch his face as his fingers began slipping further down until at your entrance, not wasting any time to slip two fingers in. You moaned loudly, swapping to hold onto the wrist that was holding your neck, not choking, just making sure you didn’t look away from him. His movements were slow, inching in and out, making sure not to hurt you.

You had to admit, that it felt odd, knowing that the wetness that could be felt wasn’t your normal juices but in face period blood and with the cramping, it wasn’t the most comfortable but as his fingers began to curl, increasing your pleasure, the pain reduced.

“Listen to me closely”, he continued. “You are going to watch as I fuck you with my fingers until you’re cumming. Then as I’m fucking you, Bucky over there is going to heat the shower and all three of us are getting in and he can then decide what he’d like to do with you there, do you understand?”

Your cunt was clenching violently around his fingers at his demands, of which every single one you wanted, too lost in the thought of his fingers curling into that beautiful spot within. “Yes sir!”

“That’s my girl”, he praised with a small smile now etched on his face as his thumb began stroking gently against your eagerly awaiting clit. There was now only a jumble of moans and mewls leaving your mouth now as your hips began rolling against his hand, chasing your high. As stated before, with each passing minute, as the pleasure increased, all the cramping began to cease until it was a recent memory.

“Open a little wider baby,” he encouraged and your legs spread automatically giving him more room to add a third finger. Your eyes dropped to his wrist, the sight scaring you for a minute as a dribble of blood was nearly the white sleeve of his shirt but with a quick squeeze to your throat, you glanced up as he leaned closer, his breath tickling your face. “I. Don’t. Care.”

“Fuck!” you cursed, riding his hand harder, gripping his wrist tighter, inching closer and closer to your orgasm. The addition of his third finger made your walls stretch to their limit, feeling full of his long, thick fingers and his thumb pressed harder.

You were about to open your mouth and ask if you could cum but Steve could already feel the tightening grip of your cunt, “cum for me, that’s it, good girl”.

Steve’s praises were always the most perfect sounding words from his gruff voice and your orgasm was suddenly pulsing through your entire body. If it wasn’t for his grip around your throat, you were sure you’d fall into his chest but he held you there firmly, not restricting your airways but just having control over your body.

He didn’t waste a second, using his blood-soaked hands to undo his belt and zipper, easing his cock out and then dragging your hips towards the edge of the countertop. Lifting your legs to rest on his hips, Steve’s cock pulsed as he eased it between your slit, breathing your entrance slowly.

“Please, please daddy!” you gasped out, losing all sense of control, needing to feel him now. Steve chuckled at the nickname, knowing your horniness was bringing out your submissiveness. To treat you well, he pushed his cock into your cunt in one quick thrust, causing your body to jolt to the side.

He held that position and in the background, you could just make out the sound of the shower being turned on by Bucky. Not that you were focused on that right now as Steve adjusted his position. With his red-stained hand, he gripped your hip in place whilst the other hand still held onto your throat, his mouth dipping so he could wrap his lips around your left nipple, sucking it fiercely into his mouth, biting on it gently before releasing.

At the same time, he began to ease his cock out of you, nice and slowly so that your walls dragged around him before slapping back in again. Steve teased both of your nipples, licking around the areola before sucking them back into his mouth.

Your entire body was alight with warmth and pleasure, every thrust was powerful and breathtaking and his wicked tongue had you almost seeing stars with how hard it was making your cunt clench.

“You’re doing so good for me baby” Steve complimented as he swapped breasts, the nipples now being slightly puffy from being sucked on. “Seeing you this desperate, I don’t think I’m going to last very long”, he admitted, but you didn’t care, you were already sensing the change in your body as the tautness in your abdomen increased.

Steve did too and released your nipple, only to kiss you fiercely, it was mostly tongue and teeth, trying to dominate your mouth leaving you even more breathless and dizzy. Just as you were able to orgasm, your hand gripped around the bigger hand holding your neck, squeezing it slightly and he understood the message.

His fingers gripped ever so slightly harder, making it a little bit more difficult to breathe, just as you came hard. Your walls clamped down around his cock so strongly that he too came, surprising himself as he shouted your name, hunching over your body and releasing your throat just as the waves began to calm down. You sucked in the air greedily, body almost completely limp from being fucked so hard and being in the same position for so long.

Your eyes felt heavy as Steve kissed along your throat where his fingers had been, softly caressing the area, distracting you from his cock slipping out of your sensitive entrance. Risking a glance down, it was a mess, where his hands had been were red hand prints and his clothes were ruined but at that moment, you couldn’t care at all.

Steve stood back, catching your eye, “I love you”, he whispered, sweetly kissing your lips delicately, almost like he was scared to hurt you even though he’d just been fucking the life out of you.

“I love you too” you responded softly, tiredness evident in your tone.

Steve finally moved away, unbuttoning his ruined shirt which allowed Bucky to take his place, now standing completely naked, his cock proudly hard between his legs. Gently, he lifted both of your legs around his waist, locking your ankles before moving your arms around his neck, his metal arm easing beneath your arse and his flesh arm around your back as he lifted you.

“Feel like another round?” Bucky’s jokingly asked with a soft smile, kissing your cheek and you mewled in response, trying to slip further down his body so that his tip bumped into your cunt. “Hold on, mama”, and with that, he gently eased his veined cock into your warm pussy, before walking into the warm shower that had you melting into his embrace.

The two of you stood there for a couple of minutes, he didn’t thrust, knowing that’s not what you needed right now, just letting you feel full up at the warmth from the water to ease your used muscles, it was perfect.

“Want you”, your voice oozed desperation as you lazily kissed up his neck, clenching slightly around his member as your arousal began to peak, needing to feel the drag of his cock..

“I want you to but I think someone tired you out”. You groaned, frowning at his words but putting no effort into moving, feeling too lazy and fucked out of your mind so decided on a different tactic.

“But I’d feel so much better if you fucked me too”.

Bucky laughed as Steve joined the two of you in the shower, luckily it was purposefully built so that the overhead shower covered all three of you.

“Are you trying to manipulate me into fucking you, sweet mama?” Bucky asked against your shoulder.

Smiling against his skin, you tried to act nonchalant, “no I’d never do that”.

As you finished your sentence, your back eased against the shower wall as Bucky held you there, readjusting his arms slightly to grip your hips, his face now hovering over yours, a cheeky smile gracing his lips. “Yeah, I’m sure you would never do that”, he sarcastically responded as he began to roll his hips, thrusting his cock very slowly in and out of you.

Once again, these men knew you so well, thankful for the slow speed as your cunt constricted harshly around him with how sensitive it was. It felt so good as he took his time, holding you close, every part of your body touching his as Steve washed behind him, smiling at the sound of your desperate noises.

“Is this what you wanted?” Bucky asked, his mouth hovering over yours.

“Yes sir, you feel so good”.

Bucky kept up those long slow paces for a while, Steve even began to grow hard again and found himself wanking off watching the two of you. Every thrust of Bucky’s cock had a pathetic mewl or moan escaping you, it was perfect as you held desperately to his shoulders, lazily kissing him until the sensation changed.

“I need to cum sir” you quickly breathed out but Bucky had other plans.

“Not just yet mama, you’ve got to hold it for me”. Your eyes filled with panic, looking at his as your brow furrowed, mouth gaping open.

“I- I can’t”.

“Yes you can, you’re a good girl and only good girls cum when they’re supposed to, just a little bit longer”. You could have cried as you gripped harder to his muscles, probably painfully so but he never said anything, just continued with the same slow fucking. You tried to relax your muscles and distract yourself from him but his cock was hitting all the right spots and it didn’t help matters when Steve suddenly grunted from behind Bucky as he came,  his cum spurting out and into the water.

“Please!” you had to plead now, closing your eyes as the feeling of orgasm was so overwhelming.

Bucky grunted loudly and you could feel his cock pumping inside of you as he finally agreed, “yes, cum for me!” and at the same time snapped his hips hard into you. Your whole body went rigid, cunt uncontrollably pulsing around him in waves of utter perfection.

It took a couple of seconds to calm down, Bucky’s half-limp dick sliding out and a gush of Steve and Bucky’s cum followed, now tainted pink by your period but you definitely didn’t care anymore.

Thankfully, Bucky wasn’t just ready to put you down but you would have most likely just sat on the floor, not trusting that your legs were strong enough to hold your weight. So both Ssteve and Bucky helped to wash your body with soap, being careful of the sensitive area between your legs before turning off the water and stepping out.

Whilst Bucky and you were first in the shower, Steve had cleaned up the mess on the countertop and had prepared a fresh pad, underwear and pyjamas for you to get into afterwards. As the three of you climbed into bed, you could honestly say you’d never felt this cosy before on your period.

Laying your head against Bucky’s chest, Steve sat beside you and scrolled through his phone, reading to order some takeout. The second-in-command kissed along your hairline, his fingers locking with yours as he asked, “how's the pain now?”

“It still aches but it’s a lot better than it was, thank you”.

Steve leaned over and kissed the back of your shoulder, “good, I think we should make this a monthly occasion”.

Your used cunt clenched at that thought and you had to bite your lip from moaning, taking a deep breath before turning to look at him, “me too”.

#ngl i loved writing this one #steve rogers smut #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers #bucky barnes one shot #bucky barnes smut #bucky smut #bucky oneshot #stucky smut #mafia steve rogers #mafia bucky #mafia au #mine*

[thelatekilljoy]

Steve's new roommate is, uh... Different.

Not in any bad way. Not at all. He's just unlike any roommate Steve's ever had before. Tommy was loud, gross, messy, and a major asshole. Billy was a violent drunk, and Steve had to evict him. Jonathan was polite, but never home.

Eddie is... Well... Robin said he's like a cat, which isn't a conclusion Steve would have come to on his own, but since Rob mentioned it, he hasn't been able to get it out of his head.

Eddie Munson is a bit like a cat.

At first, he was quiet around Steve. That doesn't mean he was quiet all the time, not at all. Not only does Eddie listen to loud music, but Steve often hears him yelling in his room over one thing or another. Phone calls with his friends always have Eddie laughing hysterically and shouting happily. All behind closed doors, though. The rare times Steve's caught Eddie on the phone in the living room, Eddie got quiet and slipped into his room.

Steve knew it wasn't anything he was doing wrong. Eddie made sure he knew that on the first day he moved in.

("Hey, um. I might take a while to, uh, get used to you.")

It takes Steve's favorite hobby for Eddie to start leaving his room.

Steve hums as he bends to open the oven door. Oven mitts on, he grabs the pan and pulls it out, nudging the door up far enough with his foot so he can bump it closed with his hip. He sets the pan on the stove and turns towards the fridge, and nearly jumps out of his skin when he sees Eddie leaning against the door.

"Sorry," Eddie mumbles, flushing bright red. He reaches for the fridge door and holds it open for Steve. "I was just grabbing something to drink."

Steve raises an eyebrow and takes the milk out of the fridge. Eddie leans over the door a bit to peer in. He points at a can of soda. Steve grabs it and hands it over.

"Milk and cookies would be better," Steve laughs. "I'm about to burn my mouth on these, but it's going to be so worth it." He reaches over and pokes a cookie, quickly snatching his hand back at the heat.

Eddie stifles a laugh, hand over his mouth, but Steve can tell he's smiling.

"Want one?" Steve asks. He watches Eddie as he considers. His breath shudders, and he shakes his head. Steve shrugs. "I'll save you some anyway. They should be cool soon."

He turns back to the cookies to gently transfer a couple to a plate with his bare hands, but by the time he moves to grab a cup for his milk, Eddie is gone, and Steve can hear his bedroom door closing with a small click.

A few hours later, when Steve's gone through half the cookies and is laying on the couch in a cookie-coma, he hears Eddie exit his room. After a minute of shuffling around the kitchen, he disappears again. When Steve gets up to wash his dishes, he notices three things.

1. Eddie left the milk out

2. Eddie took two cookies

3. Eddie stuck a note on the fridge

Thank you, very yummy :) - E

Steve blushes and takes the note with him when he goes to bed.

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things

[doobean]

FAMILY AFFAIRS - ISAGI YOICHI

synopsis: You've got everything in life. A happy marriage with the love of your life, a new job, and you have enough savings to buy a new house! Luckily enough, your kind stepbrother offers to come with you to the open house tour while your husband is busy and away. Nothing can go possibly wrong, right?

contents: explicit content, afab!fem!reader, stepbro!isagi, reader is married to sae, reader also wears a dress hehe, cheating, manipulation, dub-con, step cest, isagi is jealous and is a bully, kinda borderline yandere!isagi, hickeys, cunnilingus, fingering, unprotected sex, creampies, pet names/name-calling, dumbification, doggy/missionary/mating press, ass slapping, dacryphilia, light choking, having sex while on a phone call (oral), mirror sex, mdni word count: 3.9K a/n: part 1 of my kinktober event! idk probably the filthiest thing I've ever written in my life idk what to make of it but enjoy (im sorry sae whoops) and i swear im a good girl

Compared to how most remarriages go, you have to say that your family is part of the lucky ones.

It happened back in high school, where all the weird emotions and hormones of a teenager are at its high but, surprisingly, your stepbrother and stepfather were extremely easy-going people. And they still are. Your stepfather treats your mom with utmost care and grace, something you haven't seen in a while since your biological father stepped out of your life. 

Your stepbrother, now a pro football player, is almost a carbon copy. Growing up, Isagi has always been willing to help out around the house, staying up to help you study for exams throughout undergrad and, even now, he's offering to come with you to do something that'll take up half of his off day. 

"Hey," You shut your phone after sending a brief message to your husband as Isagi hops into the driver’s seat, hair slightly damp and wearing an oversized hoodie with a pair of sweats as he had just gotten out of the shower. "Thanks for coming with me, you didn’t have to."

Your stepbrother shrugs his shoulders in response as he adjusts the side and rearview mirrors before starting the ignition. "I’ve got nothing going on today. Besides," Isagi eyes you playfully and pinches your exposed thighs between your dress leg slits. "Who knows what might happen if I let you go off by yourself?"

You return the favor with a light slap over his head, earning a loud yelp from the male. "It’s just an open house tour, not like I’m going off to war."

He scoffs cheekily, fixing his hair. "Yeah, but the realtor could be a serial killer or worse—" Isagi leans towards you and lowers his voice. "—an undercover clown."

You shrink, back pressing against the car door, and laugh. "The only undercover clown I see here is you.”

"You’re so lame." Isagi huffs before stepping on the gas pedal.

After a quick game of rock, paper, and scissors over who gets possession of the aux, he begrudgingly accepts defeat and allows you to play everything but country. When he manages to get on the highway, he speaks again, turning down the music volume just slightly. "What’s Sae up to these days? I hardly see him come to our family functions anymore."

You stop humming to the current song and break your gaze from the window. There's a small frown that forms, without you realizing it, and you bite your lips. "You know how his schedule usually is. Campaigns and interviews got him busier nowadays. But he should be landing home later." 

"Later today?" Isagi quirks a brow.

You nod, shifting in your seat. "Mhm, he said he’ll call me once the flight lands. Why?"

There’s a long pause before Isagi answers, shrugging his shoulders, and turns at the exit. "No reason."

The drive there is relatively smooth. You guys pass the time with quick snippets of what's going on in your lives since Isagi had just returned overseas from a match and, despite not really knowing the ins and outs of football that much, you're still willing to listen to whatever he's rambling on about. It's one of the small things that you adore about Isagi, he's shamelessly passionate about his career, and oddly enough, the conversation gives you a burst of energy. 

You shoot back with your own life updates, though a bit more mild and mundane to his travels and exciting goals. You briefly mention a new job promotion, your closest friends announcing their pregnancy, Sae's new ad campaigns, and all the other houses you've toured within the past three months. The current house you're viewing today seems promising and within Sae's expected pay range.

From what you've seen online, it's a three-story house built near the edge of a hill with an attached infinity pool, a masterchef-styled kitchen, and a private built-in gym. You don't really need all of that, but who are you to deny your husband's generosity? 

Isagi lets out a long whistle when he pulls up next to the realtor's car on the long, winding driveway. "You're seriously gonna be living here?" He seems to be in disbelief at the size and so are you. It's a lot bigger in person than what the pictures offer. 

"Maybe," You hop out of the car, brushing off any sort of dust collecting to your dress, and adjust your purse straps. "Hopefully, this will be the one."

While you didn’t think the realtor would be a creep, Isagi wasn’t wrong when he suggested tagging along. Upon entering the house, the realtor immediately makes an unwarranted comment about your figure, commenting on how nicely the dress hugs your body before offering his hand. Isagi intercepts smoothly by introducing himself as your boyfriend, which honestly came out of left field, but at least the realtor backed off for the remainder of the tour. After an hour of showcasing, the agent hands his business card to Isagi and nearly stumbles over his feet when leaving the property.

"Is he gone?"

Isagi pulls one of the curtains aside and nods. "Yeah, his car isn’t in the driveway anymore."

"Ugh, it’s a shame but at least the place is nice." You briefly snap a couple of photos of the living room and kitchen. "I think we might put in an offer by the end of the week."

"It's not too far from my place either," Isagi adds. He wanders around the kitchen some more, pulling the cabinet drawers open and playing with the faucets carefree now that the agent is out of sight. "Think I could crash here sometime?" He jokes.

"As much as I love having your annoying ass around, I think not." You giggle when a cute pout forms on his lips. "Okay, maybe like once a month." It's hard to say no to your stepbrother sometimes.

You meet up with him in the kitchen, hands gently gliding across the marble kitchen countertop and stopping when Isagi manages to pull out an unopened champagne bottle from the fridge. He waves it around for a bit before signaling at the glasses in the cupboards. 

Isagi bites his lips thoughtfully. "You wanna?" 

Why not? It's been quite the ride to get here and you like to think of this as an early celebration. You pull out two glasses and eagerly watch as Isagi opens the bottle. He fumbles a bit with the top and a good amount of the liquid starts spilling out, dripping over the countertop and onto the floor.

"Shit, wait let me clean that up—" He rushes to grab a nearby towel though you beat him to it with your own pair of napkins from your purse.

"It's okay, I've got it, Yoichi." You start to bend down but he grabs a hold of your wrist, forcing you back up. 

"No," His tone is firm and you could've sworn there's something fleeting that flashes across his eyes for a moment. "Let me take care of it." 

And for whatever reason, you let him. "Alright..."

Isagi takes his time cleaning up the spill. He's careful like that, maybe because he knows you're insistent on buying this property. Knowing him, he wants to make sure everything is perfect. 

His hands stop when it reaches your shoes and you feel your breath catching in your throat. The sight of him on his knees triggers a reaction you can't quite understand. You shove the thoughts away and cough loud enough once you notice him hesitating. 

"Is there something wrong?" Your voice comes out faint, almost breathy. 

"It got on your dress," Isagi states casually, lifting his head to meet your confused gaze. "Mind if I get that for you?" He whispers the last part as if there's a hidden intention behind his words. 

You're not sure if your dress got wet. You're positive that nothing spilled on it. But, according to your kinder-spirited stepbrother, there are a few spots and you suppose it'll be bad to leave it unattended. 

"Sure," You answer on instinct.

"That's good," Isagi begins dabbing the cloth gently against the fabric, slowly making his way up until he's hovering over your pelvis. 

You have no idea why you're starting to feel yourself burn all over the place. It feels like Isagi is taking mental pictures of your figure, storing them all in his head as you feel his eyes trace your skin. Goosebumps start trailing down your arms and you shift your legs together. "Yoichi—"

Isagi stops his motions and tips his head down, letting his bangs fall over his eyes. He lets the towel fall to the floor and you twitch when you begin to feel his callous palms hiking all the way up your legs. It's strangely hypnotic, watching your stepbrother do this and you're not sure why you're allowing it to happen. Everything begins to feel hazy, surreal, and wrong. 

Your gut twists on itself inside out when his fingers toy with the waistband of your panties. Surely, there are some champagne spills there? Right? Maybe that's why you feel comfortable spreading your legs for him to clean it up. The two of you silently exchange dazed glances when you guide his hands, brushing the panties to the side of your legs as your heat gains exposure to the air.

"Gotta clean this one too," He rasps out. And you take a deep, shuddering breath when Isagi's lips latch onto your folds, wasting no time with his tongue. You feel like your heart is going to pound out of your chest.

A thousand questions flood through your mind. Has he always viewed you this way? How are you going to present this to Sae? Should you even say anything to your husband at this point? They're the wrong questions to be focusing on, you know that better than anyone. In a split second, your healthy relationship with Isagi has opened so many cracks around its edges that it's now something completely irreparable. 

And you're ashamed of just how goddamn good this feels. 

"You're so sweet down here." Isagi's eyes are half-lidded when he looks up at you, already seemingly drunk off of you. 

Your eyes threaten to flutter shut as his tongue traces around, larping up your intoxicating slick. Isagi lets out a low groan when your fingers run through his hair, gripping it just slightly forward enough to allow his nose to brush against your aching nerve.

All of this comes crashing down when a familiar ringtone goes off. You nearly jump at the rapid vibrations from your purse and hastily fish out your phone, heart dropping at the contact that's on the screen. 

"Pick it up, I'll be quiet." The way that easily comes out of his mouth makes you want to throw up.

You swallow back a moan and clench the phone tight in your hands. "Yoichi, I'm being serious...! If he finds out we're both dead!"

"Then make me."

His hot breath hovers over your clit as he looks up, masking his ill intentions behind his seemingly big, innocent eyes. Those very same eyes that would comfort you after a bad day, the same eyes that shine whenever you told him about an achievement—no matter how big or small—, and the very same eyes that are now clouded with something more sinister as he searches for an answer in your own pair.

"If you don't want it then push me away. Make up your mind or else Sae's gonna be worried." Isagi mocks your voice when attempting to say your husband's name. The way it rolls off his tongue makes your stomach churn and the wedding band on your hand suddenly feels unbearably tight.

You shouldn't. You know better. You're in love with Sae Itoshi and this—whatever this is—needs to stop.

"You're turning into a mess down here, sis." You attempt to close your legs together but his grip is like iron. Isagi tilts his head to the side and huffs over your nub. "I said push me, baby."

"Y-Yoi—" Your words get stuck in your throat as he 'accidentally' brushes his lips against your heat. Another dark glint flashes across his eyes and he grins.

You pick up the call and clear your throat, but your free hand wanders to your stepbrother's head, giving him the slightest nudge so that his nose brushes against your slick heat.

"Hi babe, how is everything?" You're trying so hard to level your voice.

"Just landed," Sae replies. There are muffled voices in the background, which you assume are his bodyguards and paparazzi. After some awkward shuffling, he asks, "Are you at the property right now?"

"Yeah," You continue to tug at Isagi's hair, suppressing a moan when he flicks his tongue a bit too hard over your sensitive nub. "It's spacious and has a nice backyard, I—I think you'll like it." You're beginning to pant, almost whining, under your stepbrother's touch. 

"Mhm, send over pictures when you can. Is Isagi with you right now?"

You nearly choke out a sob as his fingers begin to edge their way inside. "Y-Yes!" You sputter out, launching forward as your knees begin to grow weak.

"Hey, are you okay?"

You can't stop the twitching and bucking of your legs. Isagi notices and wraps a free arm around the back of your legs, keeping you upright and pressed against his face. "I-I'm fine, why?" You breathe out.

"You sound like you're sick." Sae is concerned. Concerned for your well-being while you are currently getting fingered by your stepbrother. 

You almost cry when you feel Isagi’s fingers slip out of your sloppy folds. He gets up from his knees, gripping your waist as you stumble forward from the loss in pleasure, and grabs a hold of your phone. As if he's playing a game, Isagi holds up a finger to his lips, silently asking you to keep quiet. It’s almost scary how fast you see him transition from being an absolute monster to back to being your loving stepbrother all in a second. 

Even with his mouth covered in your slick, he clears his throat and speaks with confidence to Sae. "She's feeling a bit down now but I'll drive her back once we're done."

"Is that so?" Sae lets out a heavy sigh. "Thanks, Isagi. I should be back before dinner so keep me updated."

"Anytime, we'll see you later!" Isagi grins over the line before twisting his head down at you. "Sis, do you have anything else to say?" There is it. That look again. His smile sends shivers down your legs as he presses the device to your ear, rubbing it firmly against the side of your face. 

You can't find the power within you to break free from Isagi's taunting gaze. The way his lips grow wider as fear washes over yours makes you only fall for his touch just more. It's almost addicting as much as it's wrong.

"I love you, Sae." You force out the words and your stepbrother has the audacity to laugh.

Thankfully, Sae doesn't hear it. "I love you too. I'll talk to you guys later." And the line drops.

Isagi doesn't give you time to recollect your thoughts as he plunges his fingers back into your warmth. Your body staggers under him, hips matching his feverous rhythm, throwing the last of your morals out the window.

"Oh my god—!"

"You love him, yeah?" He hums in the crook of your neck and presses his hardened length against your plush thighs. "Love him more than me?" Isagi coos.

You throw your head into his chest, eyes shut tight, and inhale his stimulating scent. "I love him, y-yes I do...!" You fumble over the words and make a mournful sound.

"Is that so? Well, it doesn't matter either way—" Isagi drags you easily in his arms to the bedroom and positions himself behind you while facing the full-body mirror by the closet. "—because you're going to be screaming out my name." He pulls down your dress straps and starts leaving hungry, sloppy kisses across your neck and shoulder blades.

A shaky breath escapes your lips and you shut your eyes, tilting your head to the side, allowing him even more access. "Yoi..."

"Look at yourself, sis." His sudden sharp tone makes your eyes shoot up. His sweatpants fall down around his thighs and you see him stroking his thick length in the mirror. Isagi presses it against your increasingly wet folds, groaning from how easily your body accepts him, and gives your ass a harsh slap. "Watch how I fuck you."

You can barely recognize yourself in the mirror. Lipstick smeared, tears pooling at your eyes from a mixture of pleasure and guilt, dress straps slipping off your flushed shoulders, and the numerous amounts of hickeys from your stepbrother marred against your skin. And you still have that damn wedding ring on.

Isagi sucks his teeth in as he watches your chest rise and fall when he slowly enters you. The feeling is different compared to Sae's. 

Your stepbrother's cock is thicker and angled more to the right, hitting and stretching out spots that you didn't know existed. Once you bottom him out, Isagi pulls back his hips before snapping them back into place. Just one thrust from him is enough to knock the air out of you. He keeps repeating the motion until you're a writhing mess and a puddle from your heat collects onto the hardwood floor.

"A-Ah—w-wait fuckfuckfuck...!"

Isagi snatches your face in his hand and pulls you up against his chest, making his cock nest deeper into your velvety walls. "Visit me often, yeah? It's not fair that he gets to fuck this pretty pussy every day."

You let out a muffled moan when Isagi collides his lips against yours, his tongue immediately seeking refuge in your mouth. Everything feels so hazy, so intense, nothing like this reminds you of how sweet and gentle Isagi usually treats you.

"Baby," He breathes, relocating his hand on your face to your neck, he gives it a tender squeeze. "I'm better, aren't I?" Isagi lets out a whine when he feels your insides tightening up around him. 

Your eyes are glossed over, drool seeping out from the edge of your mouth as you mumble, "I—I don’t know… I’m—aaah…”

"Huh? What was that?" He pulls back, keeping the tip in, and chuckles when he watches your face twist in disappointment at the loss of feeling. "Say it and I'll give you what you want."

Isagi watches your reflection, paying close attention to the way your lips quiver at your next words. It's almost as if he's getting off at seeing your internal conflict with tears sticking hot against your lashes. Finally, you give in. "Y-You're better, Yoichi... you fill me up more than Sae..."

His eyes widen with glee. "That's what I fucking thought." Within seconds, he adjusts his grip on your hips and snaps back into your puffy folds. "If he ever makes you cry, you know your big brother is going to take care of you, right? No one can take care of you like I can."

You catch your breath when his toned biceps lift you in his arms. The second your back meets the mattress, his length stretches your hot entrance again. 

"Shit, it's like you're made for me," Your legs hang limp over his shoulders as he presses deeper. "You take me in so good."

You pant uncontrollably under him, wanting to start sentences but being unable to finish as his thrusts and the lewd wet sounds from your heat bounce off the walls. You can tell by the dark look in Isagi's eyes that he relishes in the feeling of making you feel overwhelmed and stimulated. Every time when you call out his name, when your moans are forced out by his animalistic thrusts, he clenches his grip harder around you. 

"Get on your knees, baby," Isagi coos and he lets out a dark chuckle when you obediently nod.

You struggle to get on all fours, lower body shaken to its core from the intense raw pleasure. You’re taken aback when you see the sheer amount of sweat and other bodily fluids that stain the mattress sheets beneath you. While you're brain is trying to process how on earth you guys are going to clean this up, Isagi has taken hostage your hips again, lifts your dress up, and is already repositioning himself from behind. With a swift swipe of his tip, he claims his territory once again. 

"Fuck," He hisses, watching the plump of your ass jiggle at every thrust he makes. His other hand twists underneath you, digits finding their home on your clit. "You make the sweetest sounds, you know that?" 

A familiar coil builds in your stomach. A feeling that has brought you and Sae closer dozens of times before. Only, this time, you feel yourself about to come undone by the hands of a different man. As his fingers work their final motion around your throbbing clit, your vision turns foggy, and your body slumps onto the mattress as your orgasm washes over you. Isagi groans as your walls fluctuate and squeeze desperately around his length, sending him close to his own ending. 

His fingers dig deep into the flesh of your ass, leaving half-crescent moons, as he pumps streaks of white inside and pulls out immediately, allowing some to finish dribbling out on your back. The sight of you spasming with the combination of both your and his fluids spewing out causes him to moan in delight.

"Once a month, right?" He repeats your earlier promise, hot breath ticking your wet skin. When he realizes that you're too dumb-fucked to respond back, he reaches over and attempts to wipe the sweat collecting on your face. His normal bright smile comes back and it's like nothing has changed. "Let's get ready to meet up with Sae."

There's a heavy shift in the air when dinner arrives. 

Isagi had graciously offered his hoodie to cover up the hickeys, knowing damn well that your husband is going to see them regardless when you return to your shared apartment. Still, Isagi believes he's still doing his due diligence as a good stepbrother.

You're sitting across from Sae and have been avoiding both males' gazes throughout the evening. From the second you sat down, to the moment Sae kissed your cheek, it felt so hard to breathe. You're not sure if Isagi is helping or making the situation worse by rubbing his hand back and forth on your thigh. 

It's almost an hour into dinner and you've only taken three bites and are on your third glass of wine. Being the attentive husband he is, Sae picks up on your uneasiness and sets down his fork.

"Everything alright?" Sae eyes the two of you across the table.

"Yeah," Isagi speaks for you and curls an arm around your shoulder. "She's just feeling under the weather, remember?" 

You're too overwhelmed by everything going on, so you lean into his touch, hands gripping your thighs in the process like you're trying to crush something, knuckles white and fingertips bruising. 

You hate how going back to your husband's arms after this, talking about your future together, and potentially starting a family—all of it seems like it's the most daunting feeling in the world.

KINKTOBER TAGLIST (PART I)

@milkistoshi @mareonyan @saenora @blissblossom @wowonamo

#doobean:kinktober23 #bllk smut #bllk #blue lock smut #blue lock #blue lock x reader #isagi yoichi #isagi yoichi x reader #isagi yoichi smut #whoops sorry my fingers slipped #cw: cheating #im sorry sae ... #i love u #cw: stepcest #doobean writes

[lnfours]

false god | l.n

summary: we might just get away with it.

warnings: based off of ‘false god’ by taylor swift, brothers best friend!lando, fewtrell!reader, mutual pining, sexual themes, this stupidly hot outfit bc he always looks good in black. also this is kind of trash but i really wanted to get something out for you guys 😩

masterlist | listen | ask box

₊‧°𐐪♡𐑂°‧₊

the rain was pattering hard against the window in your room, but it was simply background noise as you played music softly from your computer. you hummed quietly to the song playing, your pencil scratching against the notepad before the soft ping let you know you had gotten a text.

lando

you still awake?

you grabbed your phone, unlocking it and typing back.

yea, why? can’t sleep?

a couple of seconds later your phone lit up again, a new message from him appearing on your lockscreen.

yea, still jet lagged.

wanna watch a movie or something? max and p went on a date and left me all alone 😩

you chuckled, typing back a response.

pretty sure that’s the point of a date 🤔

but sure, doors open

he disliked the first message, which made you chuckle before you heard footsteps echo down the hallway. your door creaked open, the brunette joining you on your bed as you closed your notebook. you pushed the things to the side, tossing him the tv remote.

“your pick this time.”

“i thought i picked last time?” he said, hand resting behind his head as the other grabbed the remote. you looked over at him now, the black shirt hugging his muscles perfectly, the black jeans showing off his thighs and the red backwards hat was about to send you into cardiac arrest.

it was a bad idea to look over at him, especially when the crush you’ve had on him had only worsened over the past day or so, just like it did every time he was here.

“mm, no,” you said, “i picked that scary movie last time, remember?”

“oh yeah, the only reason you picked it was because of that hot dude.”

you scoffed, “no!”

he sent you a smirk, “yeah, okay,”

you rolled your eyes and motioned to the tv, “just pick a movie, i’m gonna go make some popcorn. want anything?”

he twisted his lips in thought while you stood up. his eyes traveled over your figure as you put the stuff on your desk, the thin pajama shorts hugging your curves, the oversized hoodie falling down a little bit to return back to the tops of your thighs, you just looked so good to him right now. you always do, but right now especially.

he was quick to look away from your body, eyes meeting yours as you spun around, “just a water, please.”

you nodded, exiting the room and he let go of the breath he didn’t realize he was holding. he wasn’t sure when it had happened, but every time he saw you recently, his chest got tight. he wasn’t supposed to feel this way about his best friends sister, she was off limits. especially to him.

he was lost in thought until the microwave beeping in the kitchen echoed and pulled him out of it, reminding himself that he still had to pick a movie. he scrolled through netflix, settling on one he had seen before but knew you’d like.

you handed him his water, which he thanked you for before you plopped down on the bed. you put the popcorn in the middle of you two before starting the movie.

at some point the popcorn had been moved to the floor, the two of you getting closer and closer without really realizing until his finger bumped against your pinky. you sucked in a shaky breath, waiting to see if he would move it. he did the same, looking down to see if you were going to pull away.

when you didn’t, he made the next move and wrapped his pinky around yours. you didn’t want to make it obvious that you weren’t looking at the movie, but you really wanted to glance over at him.

he did it for you, though, turning and looking at you before bringing a hand up to your jaw, turning your head to look at him. you almost folded, right then and there. your heart beating out of your chest and everything was happening so quickly.

but when you met his soft eyes, glowing in the light of the small lamp you had kept on and the light from the tv, all the nerves washed away, “lando,”

his voice was quiet as he softly pulled away, “sorry, i.. uh, i don’t know-“

you shook your head, grabbing his hand and putting it back on your cheek, “no, it’s okay.”

he nodded, eyes flickering between your eyes and your lips quickly, having a mental debate with himself on wether or not he should take it a step further.

you took matters into your own hands, though. readjusting as you got closer. he watched you intently, his eyes locked on every move, the movie on the tv long forgotten about as the two of you breathed out. his green eyes were piercing right into yours. he leaned in a little closer, pressing his forehead against yours.

“i shouldn’t want to,” he breathed softly, “but i really want to kiss you.”

your teeth sunk into your bottom lip, “maybe you should.”

“it would ruin everything,”

“not if he doesn’t find out.” you were inches apart now, his hands on your hips as you hovered over him. your heart felt like it was going to bust through your rib cage and it was all you could hear as the room fell silent.

it didn’t last long as his voice broke through the tension, “fuck it.”

he nudged your nose with his, meeting your lips in a kiss that sent tingles down your spine. you kissed him back, letting his hands grip you a little tighter as his tongue licked against your bottom lip.

the kiss carried on for a while, neither one of you wanting to pull away when he rolled the both of you over so now he was the one hovering over your frame. his necklace dangled above your chest, lips moving from yours as they peppered kisses against the base of your throat.

“fuck,” he mumbled against your skin, “‘ve wanted this for so long.”

you hummed back, fingers running through the curls on the back of his neck, breathing out a soft, “me too.”

you brought one hand down his spine, gripping at the hem of his shirt as you tugged it up, revealing the soft skin of his back. he understood what you were saying with your movements, pulling the material over his head and tossing it to the floor.

once he turned back to you, it was your turn to have his hands ride up the sweatshirt you were wearing, his fingers soft against your skin. you giggled when he accidentally moved over your ribs, a smirk spreading across his face.

“you’re still ticklish there?”

you nodded, “unfortunately.”

“good to know,” he was definitely going to keep that in mind.

his lips met yours again as he kissed you sweetly, which turned hungry in a matter of a few minutes as he helped you out of the sweatshirt.

however, the sound of the front door closing made the two of you jump apart, lando pausing his movements as he froze above you.

“we’re back!”

“shit,” you mumbled, the footsteps nearing your door as the two of you separated. you pulled the first article of clothing you could find over your head.

“just hide in here till he goes away.” you mumbled, shoving lando towards the closet. he chuckled, but opened the door anyway.

“i like being your little secret,” he teased, “we should do this more often.”

you rolled your eyes, “shut up!”

you closed the door before he could speak again, flopping back on the bed before your bedroom door opened. you looked towards your brother, a soft smile on your face as he held up the container for you.

“brought you back dinner.”

“thanks, you can just put it on the desk.”

he nodded, walking into your room before eyeing you down, “you alright? your hairs a mess and you look frazzled.”

you nodded, smoothing your hair over with your palms, “‘m good, just woke up from a nap.”

he nodded, now his eyes falling to the shirt you were wearing, “is that lando’s shirt?”

you nearly choked, but looked down at the material you had thrown on. sure enough, it was the shirt lando had thrown on the floor a mere ten minutes before your brother rudely interrupted.

“huh, guess so,” you tried to play it cool, “guess it got mixed up in my laundry. just kinda grabbed it earlier.”

he nodded, sending you a look which made it look like he wasn’t totally buying what you were saying, “okay..” you licked your lips nervously, “p and i are gonna watch a movie, you can join if you want.”

you nodded, “yeah, i’ll think about it.”

“oh, is lando home?” max asked, “i had something to ask him.”

he spun on his heels, turning towards the door, but you cut him off before he could investigate himself, “nah, i think he went out.”

your brother nodded, “damn, alright. just let me know if you wanna watch the movie.”

you nodded, “i will, thanks.”

he closed the door behind him on the way out, lando soon opening the closet door quietly to leave the closet. you smirked when his eyes met yours, the two of you breaking out into quiet laughter as he joined you back on the bed.

“you div! you took my shirt instead of your hoodie?”

you laughed softly, “i’m sorry! i grabbed the first thing i could find.”

he smiled, hovering back over you, “you look better in it, anyway.”

“you know where it looks even better?” your arms were slung around his neck now.

“where?” his smile was still on his face.

“the floor,”

he laughed softly, a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth, “mind reminding me?”

you hummed, “i guess i could show you.”

#lando norris x reader #lando norris #lando norris x reader fluff #lando norris x reader imagine #lando norris x fewtrell!reader #fewtrell!reader #ln4 #ln4 x reader #ln4 imagine #ln4 fluff #formula 1 #formula one #formula one imagine #formula 1 imagine #mclaren #mclaren f1

[daydreamingleclerc]

corrupt // mason mount

in which; he’s the university’s superstar sports player, and you’re just an innocent little bookworm. he walks you home one night after commotion in the street and you can’t help but offer him inside.

includes; corruption kink, uncomfortable cat calling, master manipulation, excessive usage of pet names (it gets annoying, sorry), dom!mason, sub!reader, foul language, fingering, oral (m, f rec), choking, protected sex, squirting, swearing, a sprinkle of CNC.

i was listening to sk8er boi by avril lavigne and it spiraled into this. i’m not sorry. thanks @landopeaches for helping me w all the ideas and being there to lust over mason with throughout the process <3

this is filthy. and just under 10K words. please read at your own risk. don’t say i didn’t want you.

22:04. 

the library didn’t normally stay open this late on friday nights, especially during the week of varsity, but you had a way with words and a very appreciated knack for batting your eyelashes.  

“i think it’s-” 

“-ssh, i'm writing,” you held a hand up to your housemate and best friend, becca, as you finished your train of thought before your new column ultimately came crashing to a halt, “okay, continue.”  

she sat beside you, flicking through a book she clearly had no interest in. she’d given up on her sociology assignment long ago, as had savannah, who was now half asleep on one of the sofa’s further down the room. aside from the odd one or two chess club players downstairs, you were the only three in there.  

“i think it’s probably a good idea for us to get going,” becca hummed, and much to your distaste, savannah had never been happier. “it’s ten p.m on a friday night, y/n, why don’t we all go pick up some food and watch a movie?”  

savannah had already gotten her jacket on and slipped her bag over her shoulder. she didn’t need anymore persuasion.  

“you guys go ahead,” you responded, wiggling with the mouse of your laptop as the screen dimmed, “i’ll catch up soon, i just have to finish this section of next weeks column,” becca scowled at you and before she could open her mouth, you eased her racing thoughts, “becca, i'll be fine. just pick me something and i'll pay you back later. i promise i'll be home before eleven.”  

the house that the three of you lived in with two of your other housemates was only a short walk away from campus and that gave you roughly forty minutes to finish up this segment. savannah yawned and becca still looked unimpressed.  

“you’d better be,” she picked her bag up off the back of her chair and slid it on her shoulder. she left a kiss on the top of your head, “because if i find your dead body in a back alley tomorrow morning, i'll kill you.”  

“charming,” savannah yawned. “love you, y/n.”  

“love you.” becca gave you a reluctant wave as she walked down the stairs of the library.  

you didn’t leave long after the girls and as you exited the warmth of the library and walked out into the crisp april chill, you regretted not bringing a thicker jacket to cocoon yourself as you walked home. blaring music came from all angles, as did the stares and wandering eyes.  

it was clear to all eyes you weren’t making your way to or from a party, dressed in a white sundress with cherries printed on the fabric and a white knitted cardigan. the pockets of the cardigan gaped with just your mobile phone, id and house keys inside them – you'd rented out a locker for the night to keep your laptop safe rather than dragging it back home and threatening to drop it.  

as you turned the corner onto the main loop of on-campus flats, your palms grew sweaty. you had to pass the flats and walk across the courtyard – which was full of spillover students itching to go out to either one of the clubs in town – to get to the back gate so you could slip out into the car park and cross into your estate to get home.  

a drunken body bumped into you as you crossed the road, and in turn your phone fell out of your hand as you tripped up the curb. you managed to steady yourself but unfortunately for you, your little stumble had caught the eye of a small group of drunken boys.  

“hey sugar, you look lost, fancy coming up here with us?”  

you didn’t recognize any of them, which was unusual considering they looked like the kind of boys who did sports, and you were a columnist in the university newspaper. you only did two sports columns a month, and the rest were focused on arts media – which was your degree, after all – because of that, you knew everybody.  

you knew you should’ve responded, told them to fuck off, or at least say no; but you didn’t. you froze. all you did was shake your head, and when they got closer your legs began to speed up.  

“hey, i was talking to you,” the same voice echoed, “don’t walk away from me when i'm just trying to have a conversation.”  

you fought off the urge to throw up. confrontation was something you despised, especially in front of a big crowd. “are you deaf?” the voice shouted, clearly agitated now, and you could hear it getting closer and closer until it was virtually behind you.  

mason, one of the school’s star ex-students and most glorified alumni noticed the commotion going on in the courtyard. luckily enough, he was stood with a friend who was smoking outside in a small congregation of people waiting to head to another party. he recognized you from the times you’d sat out on the pitch during games with your notepad and fluffy pink pen, that would always get dampened when the inevitable rain kicked in. he had a lot of time for you, even if you had no idea.  

“i’m offering you sex on a plate here, love-”  

“-gareth, piss off.”  

your heart felt like it was pounding out of your chest in that moment, and when a familiar face stepped out of the shadows, you let out a puff of air. your eyes caught mason’s, and immediately he rushed over to you.  

“y/n, are you okay?” his hand rested softly on your shoulder and massaged the hot flesh of your skin in an attempt to calm you. he waited for you to nod, and wrapped an arm around your shoulder, “you’re freezing, do you want to borrow my jacket?”  

you shook your head and couldn’t help getting lost in the way he got the boys to mutter an apology and scramble away with their tails – dicks – between their legs.  

“where are you off to?”  

“uh, i, um,” you pinched the bridge of your nose and tried to compose your thoughts. in the three years you’d known mason, he’d never once touched you this way. a complimentary nod of the head after a quick post-match interview or a stolen glance in the hall followed by a soft smile were all the emotional bridges you’d built together. “i'm on my way home.”  

mason gestured to his friends to go on without him as he continued to walk with an arm around your shoulder. “i’ll walk you home, babe, okay?” he hooked his thumb under your chin and got you to look over at him, “i’ve just got to stop off at a party and show my face for ten minutes, whereabouts do you live?”  

“uh, forty-two goodwood drive.” your voice came out quieter than expected, and mason hummed, nodding his head when his lips formed a smile.  

“perfect, the parties at twenty-eight goodwood drive, we can stop off there for ten minutes, have a drink and then i can walk you to the door.”  

“we?” you frowned, “i'm not good with big crowds, mason.”  

he tutted, “that’s a lie, remember last year when you stood up in front of all the freshers with that powerpoint on how they could join the school newspaper?”  

you were shocked he remembered that, and it took you a minute to compute his words and formulate a response. “that was different, it was work related,” a knot formed between your eyebrows and that usual smirk had found its way back to mason’s face. it seemed to be a permanent feature. “honestly, mason. it's fine, i can walk myself home.”  

“no, darling. i've said i'll walk you home, please,” he stopped to look at you for a minute, and the knot between your eyebrows released as if subconsciously, “let me at least walk you home.”  

it flattered you that mason mount of all people was willing to walk you home. not even men you dated offered to do that. and he had almost begged you.  

“if you insist.”  

he patted your shoulder with the tips of his fingers and you began walking again, safe in the cage of his arm. 

“atta girl.”  

22:50 

it seemed to be a night of firsts.  

for the first time, the campus celebrities, as becca called them, had allowed you into their party as if you were one of their own. mason had poured you a drink and you held the red cup between both hands to hide the shakes. you wanted to say they’d come on because of the drunken cat calling, but you knew on the surface it was because mason was keeping you close.  

you were thankful, nobody really knew you at this party other than maybe two people, one of them being mason. it was clear you were uncomfortable; the push and shove of drunken antics wasn’t something you were particularly used to. you knew your limits, and at the grand old age of twenty-three, you expected everybody else to know theirs, too.   

it seemed, wherever mason was, a flock of people followed. he had his very own fan club. mason was already a student when you’d arrived, he'd graduated university from his sports science combined course a year early because he was scouted by a football agent and now he was off playing league football and crushing it, you had to admit. he still had a lot of friends here and came back semi-regularly to join in on the parties and sex. 

the pair of you sat down on a plush suede sofa, and he noticed you checking your watch for the time. you’d been twiddling your thumbs at this party as mason’s impromptu plus one for twenty-five minutes, and you anxiously tapped your fingers on your knees. you were supposed to be home in seven minutes.  

“whats up, princess?”  

your cheeks heated up at the use of his constant pet names, but this one seemed to take the cake. “i told my housemates i'd be back at the house for eleven.”  

when he flashed that signature mason smirk that you found yourself fawning over for months, the familiar knot formed between your eyebrows. “you can allow yourself to be a little bit late, darling,” mason’s expression then mimicked yours, “do they keep tabs on you like they own you or something?”  

his question took you by surprise. it was the first proper rude thing he’d said to you all night, and that’s how you expected him to be around you, but so far, he was everything but. “i’m kidding,” he suppressed a chuckle and scooted closer, “just tell them you’re gonna be a little late, babe. don't worry, you’re safe with me.”  

he shot you a wink, and it sent butterflies swarming around your body and wetness pooling in your underwear. this was probably the most turned on a man had ever made you, and he hadn’t even touched you, or said anything remotely sexual. 

before mason could open his mouth, a boy you vaguely recognized as someone from the hockey team slid over and sat on the corner of the coffee table. immediately, they got into conversation, and you found yourself once again admiring the way he held himself. you snapped out of it almost instantly. 

“who's the girl then, mase? got yourself a new toy?” 

“his new what?”  

“got myself a new what?”  

yours and mason’s questions overlapped, and immediately his friend could sense that what he said was wrong. he wasn’t sure whether to laugh or apologize, and then he saw mason’s expression and chose the latter. he scurried off, and you placed your cup down on the coffee table in front of you.  

“i think i should just go,” as you went to get up, mason grabbed your wrist and you caught one another's eyes, “mason, please.”  

he pleaded with his eyes to get you to stay, “don’t listen to anything dom says, sweetheart,” mason scowled in his direction and dom couldn’t help but keep flickering his eyes over at the pair of you in regret, “he doesn’t know his brains from his balls, and that’s why he’s on the hockey team.”  

he pulled a laugh from your lips and it immediately put him at ease.  

“promise you won’t listen?” his hand brushed your knee, and you fought every inebriated urge you had to not pounce on him.  

“mhm, i promise, mason,” you smiled, placing your hand on top of his. he smiled and scooted closer ever so slightly, “thank you.”  

“good girl,” his words ignited a flame inside of your stomach, and the wet patch inside your underwear grew significantly. you'd never been called those words before, and he knew what he was doing when the knowing smirk grew. “would you like another drink?”  

“yes, please,” you squeezed your legs together when his fingers brushed closer as he stood up, and he knew how he made you feel within seconds. you grabbed his fingers as he lifted them from your leg. you looked so innocent he could’ve exploded. “don’t be too long, please.”  

“you’re so cute when you’re clingy,” he watched as your cheeks lit up in heat, “i'll only be over there. two minutes, tops.”  

eleven o'clock had been and gone. becca and savannah had tried to ring multiple times to stick their noses in and find out what was going on, but you’d be leaving soon, and once mason had walked you to the door, they’d be all yours to gossip with.  

you shifted in your spot, and tried to peel yourself off the sofa without distracting mason from his conversation with somebody you didn’t recognize at all, but it was unsuccessful. “where are you going, babe?”  

“i need to pee,” you shifted again, and got up successfully without mason stopping you. he finished his conversation abruptly and you almost rolled your eyes, “where are the toilets?”  

“i’ll take you.”  

“i don’t need you to be my bodyguard, mason. just tell me where the toilets are and i'll go on my own.”  

his lip quirked up into a hint of a smile. you got sassy when you’d had a drink. that boded well for him and his everlasting thoughts of you in compromising positions.  

“darling, with all due respect you don’t know anybody here and i don’t want you wandering,” he finished the dregs of his drink, “i'll take you and then we can leave, c’mon, give me your drink.”  

“why?”  

“because i don’t want people seeing you holding it and it getting spiked, c’mon.” 

you gave in rather easily and handed mason your half-full cup with a thoughtful smile. you hadn’t gone for a wee since before you left the library, and now you’d been holding it for a while it was something of a relief to be going. he took you to another bathroom, one in a less quiet part of the house. he had clearly been here multiple times before.  

“you’re not gonna come in with me too, are you?”  

“depends,” mason shrugged, “are you offering?”  

you swatted his arm with a friendly punch, even though a part of you wanted to say yes and have him take you then and there in the bathroom. the door unlocked and a couple walked out, hair in disarray and clothes mismatched. brilliant.  

“you just wait at the door, big guy.” 

it stank of weed and sex in the room as you homed in on your surroundings as you peed. what started out as a stressful night had soon become enjoyable, and all thoughts of anxiety you had before you arrived at the party had washed away. you couldn’t hear mason at the door, even though you wouldn’t have been able to anyway because of the thumping bass; but you half expected him to be gone by the time you opened the door.  

you wiped your hands on your dress and smoothed over your hair in the mirror. your mascara smudged in both corners of your eyes, and you cleaned it up, merging the outer smudges into your eyeliner. mason was stood with a soft smile on his face when you walked out, and you mimicked it, “i expected you to have found someone better to spend your evening with, thank you for waiting.” 

“better than you?” he handed you your cardigan, the one you didn’t even realize you were missing, and you slipped your arms into it, “impossible, darling.”  

you blushed again and covered your face with your hands, suppressing a delicate giggle from masons ears. he made sure the cardigan was on your shoulders, and a shiver trickled down your spine when he pulled your hair out, so it wasn’t trapped between fabrics.  

“okay princess, finish your drink,” he handed you the cup and you downed it in one, trusting him enough in that moment to know that he wouldn’t spike it, and he raised his eyebrows, impressed, “all in one, good girl.”  

your mind raced at the dirty scenario echoing through it, and heat pooled all over your body. you were honestly surprised you couldn’t feel your own slick on your thighs. nobody had ever made you feel like this before, and mason loved the hold he had on your achingly innocent persona. you subconsciously bit your lip and mason fought off a guttural moan.  

“what’s with that expression, darling, hm? was it something i said?”  

you opened your mouth to react, but he pinched your hip, laughed and wrapped an arm around your shoulders once again, the pair of you wandering down the hall like nobody's business. 

he checked the time on your watch as you walked, lifting up your wrist as if it were a feather, and pulled a faux shocked face at the time. “oh dear, sweetheart,” he tutted, “eleven eighteen, your owners will be waiting up for you.”  

you rolled your eyes at his jab, the second rude one of the night. one more and you’d be summoning up the courage to punch him in the face.  

“they aren’t my owners, mason. they're my friends and they care.”  

the two of you stepped out into the cold night air, your nipples hardening against the lace of your bra and scratching against the cotton of your dress. your thighs immediately came up in goosebumps and the cold was a nice juxtaposition to the heat pulsing your clit.  

“so you’ve never submitted to anyone, darling?” he asked, shoving his free hand in his jacket pocket, ignoring the crowds of people wandering the streets and girls throwing up in bushes, “let them take complete ownership of you? let yourself go?”  

his words shot straight to your core. you fumbled for a reply.  

“uh, no, i.. um, i don’t think so.”  

stupid reply.  

“you don’t think so? oh, sweetheart. you'd know if you did,” as you got closer to your house, a swarm of longing pulled at your chest and you yearned for him now, in a way you’d never yearned for anybody in your life. “but then again, you’ve never tried it with me.”  

the last part was muttered, and you could barely hear it.  

“what?” you whined, the short, abrupt question coming out in a far more sexual tone than necessary.  

“nothing for you to worry about darling,” he patted your cheek softly, “look, you’re home now.”  

you half expected him to fall back on his promise, to walk away now and leave you high and dry. to leave you to sort out the mess he’d created, but you’d yearn for more than just the touch of your own fingertips or the ripple of a vibrator. you just didn’t know how to ask him. 

he walked you right up to the door, as he said he would.  

“thank you, mason,” you smiled. everything inside of you screamed to ask if he wanted to come inside, but when you opened your mouth, you just found the question too overwhelming. “i... uh...” 

“what’s up darling?” he questioned, “don’t be shy. use your words.”  

he smirked at the way you shivered. there was that feeling between your legs. again.  

“do you... um. will you come in?”  

he couldn’t help but lean across to kiss you. your lips soft against his slightly rough ones, and your hands flew up to his chest and your palms rested on the warmth of his white shirt. he kissed by the book, exactly how you imagined he would, and when he took your bottom lip between his teeth and swiped his tongue along it, you yelped.  

you were too innocent, like bubble wrap left unpopped. he wanted to corrupt you from the inside out.  

his dick hardened in his jeans. 

“want me to make sure that you get into bed safe?” you nodded and his thumb brushed your bottom lip, and in a bold move you took it into your mouth and circled your tongue around it. you'd never done that to anybody in your life. it even shocked you.  

“god,” mason groaned, finding the doorhandle with his free hand, “such an obedient little girl, hm?”  

23:27 

when becca and savannah saw mason standing in their hallway with a playboy smirk dressed over his face and a charm they just couldn’t resist, they couldn’t quite believe it. it boded worse for you in the long run, because they now saw with their own eyes that he was standing in your hallway, and they would be pacing around the livingroom until he left in the early hours so they could finally get their answers. becca was on the netball team, so mason recognized her.  

“hey, becca,” he hummed, as effortlessly as ever. as if he didn’t just make out with you on your own damn porch. “still playing netball?”  

she towered over him, her five-foot twelve slim frame was the perfect one for netball and she used it to her advantage, even if she wasn’t that good at the sport.  

“mhm,” she nodded, snapping out of her trance for a minute. savannah was still simply stood next to becca in awe, “thanks for bringing y/n home.”  

“it was my pleasure,” he looked at you and smiled, and your entire body rocked with heat. “she’s asked me to stick around for an hour or two, if that’s okay with you two, of course?”  

you couldn’t help the little smirk that quipped at the corners of your mouth and you hid your face in his bicep. mason was playing into the joke he’d made earlier at becca and savannah being your owners. the pair of them nodded, and mason looked over at you.  

“where’s your bedroom, darling?”  

savannah almost choked when she heard the pet name.  

“uh, top floor on the left,” his hand ran down your arm and his fingers entwined with yours as he walked to the stairs, and once again you tugged on his fingers, “would you like some tea?”  

mason's mind raced. your innocence really wasn’t an act. he wanted to pity you, or patronize you, or build up an orgasm until it bubbled up inside of you and you squeaked and squealed and thrashed around in his arms until you begged him to let you cum. his dick grew again, but he just smiled.  

“sure, darling,” he squeezed your fingers, “milk and two sugars, please.”  

you nodded and watched as he walked straight up to the top floor of the house. you averted both becca and savannah’s eyes as you walked past them through into the kitchen. pizza boxes sat on the counter, with one unopened for you.  

“what the fuck was all that about?” savannah questioned.  

you unintentionally ignored her, to focused on drowning out the slick between your legs. nobody had ever made you feel this way, nobody had ever left you as needy or as desperate for sex as he had. in all fairness, you’d only had sex with one person, and it wasn’t even that good.  

becca snapped her fingers in front of your eyes and you zoned back into the conversation. you smiled.  

“oh, uh, he walked me home and we got to talking,” you shrugged as you pulled the milk from the fridge, “turns out we get on well, so i invited him in.”  

“go y/n,” savannah clapped her hands together, “finally got a sexu-” 

“-bye girls, thanks for the pizza!”  

as you juggled with two cups of tea and the box of unopened pizza, mason walked into your kitchen. he'd already made himself at home, it seemed, seeing as his jacket and shoes were back up in your bedroom. “need some help, princess?” he asked, and when the pet name arose again you blushed heavily, and mason took the pizza box from your hand, “see you girls later.”  

23:52 

“i’m so boring, aren’t i?”  

you asked him. you couldn’t help it.  

you were sat between his legs and watching a movie on your teeny tiny tv screen at the foot of your bed. mason's eyebrows furrowed and he stroked at the skin on your arm. he couldn’t help but kiss the back of your head.  

“not at all, darling. why do you say that?”  

you shrugged, too embarrassed to answer. sex never came easy to you, you were the stereotypical bookworm student. you stayed out of trouble, you did your assignments and handed them in way before they were due. you were co-editor of the student newspaper, for fucks sake. you weren't the kind of girl that brought home hot, sexy, god-like alumni into her bedroom on friday nights just for a hook up.  

mason knew that, and it was all part of the reason you enamored him.  

“i’m not... i just... i'm... frigid.”  

mason tutted and tucked some hair behind your ear, “you aren’t frigid, darling. you just need someone to loosen you up a little bit, someone to answer to, don’t you?”  

you felt his dick grow harder underneath you, and it sent a shiver up your spine. you nodded, and mason spun your head around, so you were looking at him. his breath was hot on your face and you heaved for a breath when his fingers found your thighs.  

“there’s so much i wish i could do to you, little one,” you gulped audibly, a shaky, hot breath, “but i won’t do it if you aren’t ready.”  

“w-what.. um, w-what do you want to do?”  

mason's fingers grazed higher and higher up your leg, and he was painstakingly close to the sticky slick on your inner high thighs.  

“i want to do so much to you, darling, but i fear if i tell you, you’ll break my heart,” his fingers grazed at the soaked cotton of your pants and he laughed lowly, “but then again, if i tell you, it might make you wetter than you have been all night.”  

you mewled when he dragged his finger between your folds over your underwear. you opened your mouth to ask him a question, but he shushed it with his free hand, bringing the tip of his index finger to the middle of your plump lips. “is this the first time you’ve been touched here, darling?” you shook your head. “yes? no? use your words.”  

“n-no, mason.”  

“you’re not a virgin?”  

“shockingly, no,” your sarcastic comment left mason pinching your clit over your underwear and you yelped, “i’ve had sex once before.”  

“just once?” he questioned, and watched the way your body writhed when he finally pushed the damp cotton aside to stroke your clit. he could’ve growled at the feeling of your pussy in his hand. “oh, darling, you’ve got so much to learn.”  

mason's fingers worked expertly on your clit, and you couldn’t help but widen your legs. he certainly found it with ease, which is more than you can say for the guy you lost your virginity to. you lifted your hips and mason helped you wriggle free from the cotton restraint, and his mouth was watering at the thought of your bare, naked pussy. he wanted to scoot around and lick it.  

“was he good, baby?” mason asked, lips nibbling along the outer shell of your ear. “did he touch your clit like this, hm? or did he -” with his free hand, mason rubbed at your nipples through your dress and bra, “- roll your nipples like this? hm?”  

you wriggled around and let his fingers explore your body, itching to let him touch you more. “n-no, mason. he didn’t touch me like this.”  

mason tutted, “come on, baby, what did he do?”  

“he used me to make himself feel good,” you hummed, getting more and more used to the fact that he was swirling your clit around with his fingers, “i didn’t enjoy anything.” 

“such a shame, darling. you're gonna be used to make me feel good, but i promise you’ll enjoy it because i know how to handle innocent little girls like you,” he kissed your neck, “i was hoping to be the first person to bury myself inside your pretty little cunt, but i'll just have to be the first to do everything else.” he chuckled lowly at the way your breath hitched, and when he slapped your clit it made you jolt.  

“did he ever make you cum?”  

you shook your head.  

“n-no, mason.”  

another clit slap.  

“why are you slapping me?” you pouted, “have i done something wrong?” 

the confusion was evident on your face. you couldn’t figure out why he was slapping you, and the crease between your eyebrows formed. mason’s hand moved from your chest to your chin and turned your face to his. “are you going to address me by my name like a good girl?”  

the crease deepened and mason couldn’t help but laugh at you, and you frowned.  

“w-what?”  

“are you going to be a good girl for daddy?” your heart almost jumped out of your chest. your eyes grew a shade darker with lust and mason didn’t go unnoticed. he slapped your pussy again. “answer, princess.”  

“d-daddy?” you questioned, and mason almost blew a load in his pants.  

“mhm, yes princess. understood?”  

you nodded your head. “yes, daddy. thank you, daddy.” 

he rolled his eyes and released a groan, unable to suppress it any longer, and now he could feel a wet patch of pre-cum forming in his pants. “fucking hell, babygirl, you’re gonna be the death of me, aren’t you?” he shifted, and moved so you were now sitting against the headboard and he was staring down at you. he got down to his knees, the way his breath hitched when he was face to face with your pussy made your back tingle. “do you want me to eat this pretty little cunt?”  

“uh.. uhm.. okay,” you hesitated. mason noticed and began to massage your thighs with his fingers, digging into the soft flesh. “i’ve never... um. nobody has ever...”  

“relax, princess, i'll make you feel good. it's all part of daddy’s job to look after his little girl.”  

a rush of blood swarmed to your clit and you moaned softly at his words. he was corrupting you already. he traced the cherries on the hem of your dress, “these are pretty fruits, baby, can you tell me what they are?”  

he began to kiss your inner thighs in that moment.  

“uhm, they’re cherries, d-daddy.”  

“mhm, well done darling,” you wriggled when his teeth sunk into the flesh of your thigh, but he soon soothed the sting when his tongue ran over it, and it formed a pretty mark of his teeth, “tell you what, princess. if anything gets too much – today, or ever – in one of these situations, you just say cherries, just like the ones on your pretty dress.” 

you nodded, but you were still confused. “why do i have to say cherries though?”  

“because, baby, sometimes your brain won’t be working properly and you’ll need a distinct word that means stop, do you understand?” you nodded again, and mason’s fingers traced your pussy again. he wasn’t looking at you now, his attention had been drawn to your clit, red and aching, but he was still talking. “it’s easier for daddy to pick up on that word rather than stop, baby, because sometimes i won’t be listening. i need to make sure you’re safe.”  

“w-why?” you could feel his fingers swirling around your inner lips and you fought every urge for a moan. 

“because, you’re my submissive, and as your dominant, i have a duty of care over you.”  

you shivered at that. your head was spinning so fast it felt like it was going to fall off. mason's tongue had darted out of his mouth and licked at your clit, you jolted, but he didn’t put it away. instead, wherever your hips dragged you, he followed, his lips never leaving your clit. his tongue flicked repetitively, and his lips suctioned around it, sucking at your clit as if he were drinking through a straw. 

as you wriggled, mason's arms caged your hips down onto the bed, so now you were unable to wriggle away and you cried out his name in a weak, pathetic little moan. he pulled off of your clit with a pop, “oh, babygirl,” he tutted, “you can do better than that for me, can’t you? i know you can.”  

he licked a teasing stripe up your pussy and delved around your hole, where his tongue slipped inside and you yelped, bucking your hips up into his face and crying out his name again. “oh, mason... oh.. fu- your tongue.. feels so good,” the sensation tingling away inside of you was one you’d never felt during sex before, and the pad of a tongue licking and lapping at your clit felt particularly strange. “oh.. god.”  

mason used his hands to part your lips further, allowing his face to be buried deeper into you and your hands sprung to his hair. he hummed against your clit as he licked, nibbled and swirled his tongue, and the pleasure was almost unbearable. he bumped your clit with his nose when his tongue slipped back inside you again, and raised his eyes so he was looking directly into yours. the contact was almost too much, and the butterflies were beginning to get overwhelming. your orgasm was fast approaching.  

he held your legs open further and pushed the hem of your dress up, so it rested at your bellybutton. you could see his nose and cheeks glistening with your wetness, and the butterflies that swarmed in your stomach had begun to travel south.  

“d-d-daddy... i... i can... i'm all tingly... i think i'm gonna...”  

mason pulled away from you right as you felt like the dam was going to open, and you whined, thrashing around in protest. he raised an eyebrow, “you need to ask daddy for permission to cum, little one,” he slapped the inside of your thigh and you winced, biting down on your bottom lip, “because your pretty little cunt is his, and you need to ask for permission to use something you don’t own.”  

oh.  

he lay there, waiting patiently.  

“can i please cum, daddy?”  

mason was satisfied with your plea, at least for now. he wasn’t going to have you begging until you cried this time. “of course, princess,” he hummed, delving back into your pussy. you mewled and he mumbled against your clit, “daddy’s pretty little cunt.”  

with that, your orgasm hit you. you thrashed around at the feeling, lifting your hips off the bed. immediately, mason’s hands splayed under your bum, holding you up as he continued to eat like his last meal. you cried out, almost screaming at the sensation. becca always talked about her boyfriend doing this, and you never understood why she liked it so much – until now.  

you tapped at mason’s head when you couldn’t take it anymore, and he pulled off of your clit with a pop. his entire chin glistened, and it ignited a fire in your eyes. arousal seeped through your veins, and mason couldn’t help but laugh against your lips when you sat up and pulled him closer by the collar of his knitted jumper.  

in a bold move, your hand dropped to his crotch and you felt his dick, rock hard and straining his jeans. you blushed upon having the realisation that you’d never sucked anyone off before, and you were almost definitely about to suck off mason. that, and his dick felt fucking huge.  

“what’s up, little one?”  

mason pulled away from your lips and tucked the loose hair behind your ear, and you couldn’t help but bury your head into his neck. he hooked his hand under your cheek and lifted you up softly, looking deep into your eyes. there was a moment of peace, where he scanned your eyes for any discomfort, but you were determined to see it through.  

“it feels... big.”  

your cheeks felt hotter than the sahara desert by this point, and mason chuckled at your innocence.  

“do you think so, babygirl?” he questioned, and his fingers curled around yours and made you squeeze at it. he groaned at the contact. “should we see if you’re right, hm?”  

you nodded eagerly, and mason almost fainted when your eyes grew black with lust. he placed your hand firmly back into your lap, and he stood up to pull his shirt off. you almost drooled at the sight of his naked torso, and the tattoo’s scattered around it. he unlooped his belt effortlessly, and within seconds his jeans were tossed to the floor. his dick was so hard that the tip poked out from the waistband of his jeans, red and desperate for some attention.  

he kept his eyes on yours to gage your reaction as he pulled down his boxers. you were right. it was huge. and thick. it inflated mason’s ego to triple the size it already was, and he loved how easy you were becoming, but this was only the tip of the iceberg. he wanted to make you his, and by the end of the night, he would make sure you were the only girl that he was corrupting. 

“t-that’s supposed to fit... i-inside me?”  

“mhm,” mason’s hand jacked himself off as he stood up at the edge of the bed, your head at the perfect height to suck. “it will, baby, and it will hurt, but i'll make it fit, you haven’t got to worry about a thing,” he pinched your cheek and you subconsciously smiled. commotion went on outside your bedroom door, one of your housemates was sneaking along the landing, and it caught your attention, but mason pulled your head back to face him with his finger hooked under your chin, “it’s not gonna suck itself, darling.”  

you gulped. “i’ve... i haven’t... you're going to have to teach me, daddy.”   

mason had to stop jacking himself off and pause for a moment in fear of ejaculating all over your face at the sentence that just left your mouth.  

“okay, princess, but first you’ll need to take this off,” he ruffled the hem of your dress and you frowned, “don’t give me that look, babygirl. it's only fair.”  

you hooked your arms out of your bra and dress all in one, and mason helped you step out of it steadily. his breath hitched when he saw you naked, drinking in the sight of your naked body. you'd never looked more beautiful, and he’d never been so desperate to be buried inside of someone.  

he leaned down to kiss your lips, and then slid down onto the bed, so his head was at the pillows. you followed suite, kneeling down at his side. he guided your hand to his dick silently, and you giggled softly when he helped you move your hand up and down, “that’s good, baby,” he said, running his fingers up to your wrist to loosen the movement slightly, “now lean over so your mouth is hovering over it, and spit on the head.”  

“t-the head?”  

“the tip, baby, the tip,” mason chuckled at your innocence, and you did as he asked. spit hung from the tip of your outsplayed tongue and trickled down to the head of his penis. as you smeared it around with your hand, your thumb ran over the slit of his dick and he jolted, a groan tumbling from his lips. your eyes shot up to face him, looking like a dear in the headlights as you feared you did something wrong, but mason shook his head. “that’s good darling, so good. why don’t you – fuck – why don’t you try and take it in your mouth.”  

you leaned down, so your lips were millimeters from his dick, and took a deep breath. you’d always envisioned doing this, and who it would be with, and none of your fantasies could ever compare to this.  

your lips pursed around the head, taking just that into your mouth and looking up at mason through your eyelashes. he seemed to like that a lot judging by the way he looked down at you and nodded. “okay, little one, you’re doing such a good job,” he patted your head subconsciously, “now, alternate between bobbing your head, twisting your hand and running your tongue around the head. just get a feel for it, darling, okay? i don’t want to cum just yet.”  

you nodded, and much to your surprise you enjoyed the compromising position you had been put in. mason made it feel so easy, so comfortable, and it made your heart flutter and your pussy throb. you began to bob your head gradually, taking more and more in with every move. mason admired your innocence and every time he remembered that his dick was the first one you’d had inside your mouth – your sweet, innocent, virgin mouth – he wanted to bust a load.  

“oh god, yes, little one,” mason’s hand bunched your hair up in his hand out of habit, and you gagged around him as he thrusted up into your mouth ever so slightly, “you’re doing so well for me, got such a pretty little mouth.”  

you moaned, and the vibrations sent shockwaves up his dick and all over his body. he thrusted up into your mouth and you gagged again, your eyes watering at the sensation but you liked it. “play with my – fuck – play with my balls, baby, just squeeze them gently,” mason cooed, smoothing your cheeks with his free hand, and you did as you were told, halting the movements of your hand stroking his dick so you could use it to stabilize you as you fondled his balls. he groaned loudly, “fuuuck, baby. that's it, such a good little girl.”  

he thrusted up into your mouth again and this time spit came spluttering out of your mouth and landed along the prickly skin around his pubic bone. your eyes watered again, so much so that the tears soaked your eyelashes and mason lowered his hips. “you okay, baby? do you wanna stop?”  

you nodded sheepishly. mason's dick fell from your mouth and the tip rested at his bellybutton. he noticed your knotted eyebrows, “what’s up, darling?”  

“my mouth.. it tastes weird.” 

he chuckled and couldn’t believe how innocent you were.  

“that’s because it’s no longer a virgin mouth, little one. it's now forever tainted with the taste of my pre-cum,” he leaned over and kissed your lips, swiping his tongue across your bottom lip, “you’re going to be tainted with my taste forever now, baby. never getting rid of me.”  

he used his strength to roll you over, so you were now laying with your head at the pillows. he admired how pretty you looked. anxiety pounded in your chest, and you suddenly got overwhelmed, but you knew it would pass, it was just nerves. mason noticed, and tucked some hair behind your ear.  

“do you remember your word, darling?”  

“cherries, daddy.”  

“good girl,” he leaned down to kiss your lips, “if you want daddy to stop, you need to use that word, understood?”  

“mhm,” you nodded, and leaned up to kiss him. he chuckled at your neediness. “there’s.. um... i have... in the bathroom cabinet.. there’s some... condoms.”  

“daddy’s shy little girl wants him to fuck her, hm?”  

you mewled underneath him and fought off a blush by buring your head in the pillows when his finger grazed between your folds, and you jolted at the sensitivity, “please, daddy, i... i... i need it. i need you.”  

mason fought back the urge to fuck you raw.  

“babygirl, listen to yourself beg for me,” he tutted, standing up and slipping on your dressing gown momentarily to go to the bathroom, “such a naughty little thing, hm? weren’t like this an hour ago. i've turned you into a little slut, haven’t i?”  

the last part of the sentence was partially shouted as he wandered into the bathroom you shared with another housemate, and you could’ve died there and then. you only hoped everyone else was minding their own damn business.  

he came back with a handful of condoms, and the dressing gown was tossed to the floor with the rest of the clothes. “go on, baby, say you’re daddy’s little slut,” he teased, “otherwise i'll leave you high and dry, begging for my cock all night.”  

your cheeks heated up as you opened your mouth. mason stood there, cock on full display, waiting patiently. you took a breath, “you’ve turned me into a little slut, daddy.”  

he made a satisfied hum noise and ripped the condom open with ease. you watched as he rolled it on and he climbed back on the bed, the sheer touch of his skin on yours leaving you with goosebumps. his fingers ran through your folds again and your wetness was enough.  

his hand outstretched your leg, so it was out at an angle to the side while the other was bent at the knee draped over his shoulder. you moaned at the feeling of being poked and prodded so he could get you exactly how he wanted you.  

you squirmed with anticipation as mason guided himself to your pussy, and when he slipped inside you let out a strangled, desperate moan. every time you thought his dick was fully inside of you, you were proved wrong, and with the angle of your legs, he only penetrated you deeper. he groaned at your tightness and the way his dick seemed to slot perfectly inside you.  

“fuck, little one,” his pubic bone hit your skin and he successfully buried himself to the hilt inside of you. “your cunt is so wet and tight, fits me so well, like it was made for me.” 

you mewled at his words and attempted to buy your head in the pillows beside you but mason grabbed your chin with his hand and forced you to look at him above you. he pulled out and pushed back in the whole way once again. “don’t you ever look away,” his fingers squeezed at your cheeks and moved down your face until they gripped at your neck, “daddy always wants to see the way your eyes roll back when he hits -” mason raised his hips up so the angle of his hips changed ever so slightly and he smirked when your eyes rolled back with a moan of his name, “that spot. such a naughty little girl.” 

“mhm,” you mumbled, already feeling a pressure building between your hips, “your naughty little girl, daddy.” 

“fuckin’ right,” mason's fingers squeezed your neck in approval, “daddy’s dirty little girl, you’re filthy, aren’t you?” 

you could feel him hitting so deep inside of you and the way his hips slowed with each pull out had you on the verge of screaming. your headboard began to thud dully against the wall and you couldn’t help but let out a long, drawn out moan.  

“gonna wake up the house if you keep moaning like a whore, baby,” mason cooed, pushing himself forward so the stretch in your legs began to sting and the angle of his dick grew deeper, “i can feel you clenching my dick, darling. such a tight little pussy.” 

your hands gripped at his shoulders and mason’s head dropped between your bodies so he could watch himself slipping in and out of your pussy. the angle of your body underneath him was driving him insane and he couldn’t help it when a moan slipped past his lips.  

the closer you got to an orgasm, the louder you became, and it only spurred mason on further. he was itching to get you cumming, and so when his fingers brushed your clit and you almost screamed in pleasure, he smirked. you were almost positive that savannah and becca could hear the entire thing from their rooms on the bottom floor.  

“d-daddy...”  

mason smiled, thumb pulling at your bottom lip. “yes, little one?” 

“i’m gonna cum,” you cried, arching your back up off the bed, “please, daddy.”  

mason tutted. you were going to have to beg a lot better than that.  

“come on, darling, you can beg better than that,” he left a kiss to your jawline, “i know you turn into a mindless whore when you’re being fucked, but that was pathetic.”  

 you squeaked and clenched around his dick again. your body was in overdrive and with every thrust it felt like you were going to explode.  

“d-daddy... please,” you choked, throat running dry, “p-please, i need to cum, i'll do anything, p-please, daddy.” 

“you’ll do anything? oh, darling. i wouldn’t say something like that if you don’t mean it.”  

“please, i’m so close,” you were panting now, fighting off your orgasm with every passing second. mason leaned down to kiss your lips hotly, pulling your lip between his teeth and biting down so hard he almost drew blood, “please.”  

your begging attempt was satisfactory. for now.  

“go on then, darling,” he drawled, “cum for daddy like a good girl.”  

you couldn’t help the scream that left your mouth, and your orgasm shook your body so hard that it left your limbs twitching. this orgasm seemed to be more fulfilling, and lasted longer than the others you’d had this evening. your clenching pussy triggered mason’s orgasm, and despite the fact he came into the condom, you could still feel the heat of his cum inside of you.  

it was only when you noticed the wet sheets underneath your bum and mason’s wet torso that your eyebrows furrowed.  

“fucking hell, little one,” mason groaned, pulling out of you and looking down at the seeping sheets, “look at the mess you’ve made.”  

“what happened...? what did i do?”  

it had only just dawned on mason that you were completely clueless. this was the first time you’d ever squirted.  

“you just wet the bed, babygirl,” he rolled to the side of you and your eyebrows furrowed, “daddy fucked you so well and so deep that you squirted.”  

he admired the way your eyes widened, and he smirked. if he wasn’t sure about keeping you in his life before, he was definitely going to keep you around now. you yawned, completely and utterly exhausted from the night’s events, and mason pushed the sweaty hair out of your face, “we need to get you clean, sweetheart.”  

“mm, tired,” was all you could say, fighting off a yawn, “just wanna sleep.”  

mason stood up and slipped your dressing gown back over his shoulders. your eyelids continued to flutter, and you would’ve fallen asleep had he not have handed you his shirt and boxers, “come on, darling, you need to clean yourself up,” you sighed but obeyed his words, pulling the shirt over your head, “i’ll help you put fresh sheets on too, okay?”  

his hand looped through yours as he guided you to your bathroom, and your eyebrows furrowed again. mason began to run the water and you sat on the toilet seat. “you’re helping?” you asked, scrunching your nose, “i thought you were just going to leave.”  

mason laughed. you really were clueless, and it was adorable to him.  

“you really think i'd fuck you like that and then just walk away?” mason raised an eyebrow, and once again, the thought dawned on him that that’s exactly what happened to you after your first time. that was all you’d ever known. “oh, sweetheart, no, i wouldn’t ever do that to you.”  

he tested the temperature of the water with the tips of his fingers, and helped you wriggle out of his shirt as you stepped into it. he kissed your forehead as you rested your arms on the side of the bath.  

“pack a bag and come to my house next weekend,” he said nonchalantly, and suddenly, all your exhaustion had dissipated, “please.”  

“y-you want me to...”  

“i’m not asking you, y/n,” his stern bedroom voice had returned and it sent shivers down your spine, “i’m telling you.”  

your heart settled in your chest and he smiled against your lips when you leaned over the bath and kissed him. “i’ll stay at yours if you stay here.”  

“i wasn’t planning on going anywhere, darling,” he kissed your nose, “you’re going to get sick of me.”  

you smiled.  

“impossible.”  

#mason mount #mason mount x oc #mason mount x yn #mason mount x reader #mason mount x y/n #mason mount x you #mason mount smut #mason mount fluff #mason mount one shot #mason mount fanfic #mason mount drabble #mason mount fic #mason mount imagine #footballer x you #footballer x yn #footballer x reader #footballer x y/n #football smut

[abilouwrites]

BAG

based on @cashmoneyyysstuff s hcs ab Katsuki taking ur bag

Shaking in my boots rn 😭😭

K. Bakugo

Class ends and I stay later than usual, jotting down the notes on how chemical reactions happen, “are you done yet?” He asks smacking his bag over my desk and I fear he’s going to hit me with it.

“Yeah yeah” I mumble shoving the notebook into my backpack but before I can grab it and throw it over my shoulder he snatches it from my grasp, “hey give it back!” I ask and he walks off and out of the class, leaving me following after him like a lost puppy, “give me my backpack, Katsuki!”

“No. Let’s go. You take fucking forever” he groans, it’s like hes trying to lose me in the hallways, twisting and turning in the hall, “can’t you walk any faster?!” He shouts, irritated at my slow pace.

“I’m going! Slow down!” I pant after him before he finally slows down as we exit the building and walk towards my street, “I can take my bag y’know?” I inform him, even if I’m sure he doesn’t care

“‘S fine” he replies, he falls in step with me as I click on my phone, “did you get your notes? All of them?” He checks and I nod.

“Come’ere” I request pulling out my earbuds, “I made a new playlist” I click it into my phone and press play. Music swells as he puts one of the buds into his ears and I put the other into mine. He leans slightly to accommodate our height difference, “tell me what” he shuts me up

“I’ll tell you if you shut up about it” he grumbles, my bag still slung over his shoulder. We walk like this in silence, hands brushing against each other before I make the move to clasp his in mine. I swing our interlocked arms as we walk, the music ends with strums of a guitar and I look up at him expectedly, “it was good, I mean wasn’t as horrible as it always is. Better. I’ll send you some of the stuff I’ve been listening too”

“M’kay!” I cheer excitedly, he does the thing where he rubs the skin between my thumb and I squeeze his hand a little tighter, “uh yeah. I got the notes. Before you stole my backpack!” I snap out sarcastically, no longer wasting my efforts in trying to grab my backpack back.

“Good,” he grunts out. We’re still holding hands when we reach my house, “here you are” his lips perk a little. And I drop his hand to open the gate, “I’ll see you later”

“Mmhm” I reach for my bag and he allows me to take it, “I’ll see you tomorrow” I grin and he nods at me.

“Yea.”

And somehow, after the months of dating and walk homes. I still giggle and blush as I walk in my house.

#bakugou katsuki #bakugou x reader #katsuki bakugo x reader #mha bakugou #bnha bakugou #bakugo katuski #bnha bakugo katsuki #katsuki bakugo mha #bakugou x you #katsuki bakugou #katsuki bakugo imagine #katsuki x you #katsuki x y/n #louiseabilenewrites

[ozzgin]

Hi it's me again.

I wanted to ask you if you could do a yandere baki characters with a pregnant reader because i love the concept. If i could request some characters i would ask for Retsu because he's the perfect husband : he's responsible, he can cook, he's perfect 😍. Katsumi because he's a family man, and as a yandere i'm pretty sure he would baby Trap you and you can't forget about yandere supportive grandparents. Hanayama would be the protective daddy's baby girl and he would spoil you so bad. But please whatever you decide to do, avoid doing Yujiro cause there wouldn't be much to write about this immature man.

I would love if you could come up with something from the start of the pregnancy until the first moment with the baby after labor. But i understand if it's to much to write

I hope this request will inspire you. Thanks for reading this, bye 👋.

Sure thing, I think you picked the perfect characters for it. I might’ve included Biscuit Oliva, but I’m horribly uninspired for the yandere part of it. Might update it in the future.

Yandere! Baki Characters x Pregnant! Reader Headcanons

Featuring Kaiou Retsu, Katsumi Orochi, Kaoru Hanayama. And a heavily pregnant reader!

[Baki Masterlist]

Kaiou Retsu

Retsu has never been one to think hard about lineage. He himself was born and raised in a temple, without any known biological relatives, and nonetheless has built lifelong bonds based on loyalty and respect. Yet something about having his own offspring is intriguing and tempting. The idea itself wouldn’t be as attractive if it wasn’t for the fact that you’re part of the equation. Yes, that’s what makes it so special. Not the fact that he’s passing his genes, but that in doing so he’s further materializing his connection with you.

These thoughts come to fruition when you hand him a positive test. He looks at you with a serious, determined expression, but you can guess from the shaking hands just how overwhelmed he is. There’s no greater privilege than being a father to YOUR child. He offers you a deep bow and vows to become the best father figure you could ask for.

You try to tell him that he can take it easy, but this man stays true to his word. You look outside the window one day and see him doing his usual training, except this time he’s wearing headphones. Listening to music? As if! He got himself some parenting audio books in order to maintain his physique and improve his knowledge on the topic. Your fridge is overflowing with leftovers because he cooks several meal courses at once, just in case you suddenly crave a different dish. You’ve been approached by officers on the street and had to explain that the man stalking you is your husband, and he’s just worried you might get hurt on your grocery shopping trip. You sigh, exhausted.

A newly found sense of purpose floods his being upon holding the newborn. There it is, the concrete, ultimate proof of your love. The reassurance that you’ve chosen him, out of all the men out there, for this experience of a lifetime. Don’t worry, he will never forget it. He will spend the rest of his life demonstrating his devotion and adoration to you. You won’t regret your decision. Ever.

Katsumi Orochi

Katsumi has a complex relationship when it comes to family dynamics. He has known both the tragedy of losing a father and the joy of having one in his life to this day. He’s been plagued by grief and love at the same time and so for him, the image of a father becomes a labyrinth of feelings. Except that he’s not wandering alone, but with his darling (Y/N) by his side. His blindingly bright guide and love of his life.

When you surprise him with the news, he feels as if all pieces of the puzzle click together and he’s finally found an exit to the maze, an answer, a purpose. Naturally, being a father holds different meanings to different people. To him, having a child means that your fate has been joined with his. Whatever the future holds for you must now include him, soldered safely into your plans. Oh, what a blissful occasion. You’ve given yourself to him entirely and he will make sure to never break the trust.

You didn’t think he’d care for all the small details, but he does. He’ll be right next to you during all appointments. He’ll be holding your hand when you’re sick and unwell. He’ll be scribbling furiously and taking notes during the parenting classes you decided to attend. He wants to know everything and be part of everything. And you’d be fine with it if it wasn’t for the equally overzealous in-laws. The Orochi family has you under permanent surveillance, nearly worshipping the ground you walk on. You’re overwhelmed.

His hands carefully wrap around the fragile, soft body of the infant. Katsumi marvels at the size and lifts it slightly, in order to be able to view both the baby and the mother. His eyes narrow in a dazed smile, gazing at the sight in front of him. His family has taken many forms, volatile through time, expanding and shrinking. In this very moment, however, it’s this. Just you, him and the proof of your bond. He won’t allow anything else to interfere.

Kaoru Hanayama

Hanayama is very proud of his father as a yakuza leader, but never fully approved of the way he carried his duty as a parent and husband. He wants to prove that he can be a fearless, hard-hearted kumichou without stripping his kindness to his friends and family. Especially after meeting you, he’s convinced he could never have the heart to upset you in any way. The two driving forces in his life are the honor of his family and (Y/N)’s happiness.

And this oath might soon extend and bring everything together at once. When he hears your announcement, he closes his eyes briefly and pictures it. Unexpectedly, the meaning of family has been fulfilled in every way possible. He’s not afraid or nervous, in fact he’s welcoming it with open arms. He feels almost nostalgic, similar to when he inherited his father’s title and became responsible for his Group. He asks for the ceremonial cups to be brought, together with the best sake. From parent to child, he raises the small cup for his second sakazukigoto and you return the gesture with a solemn smile. You sheepishly remind him that you can no longer drink alcohol and he bows to apologize, flustered.

Hanayama will make sure that everything is at your feet. The whole branch has now been tasked to provide to your smallest wishes and desires. Not only are you his life companion, but you are gifting his Group with a new addition and he wants you to be aware of your importance. Sometimes he might become a little melancholic, wishing he could ask his mother for advice on how to proceed. When that happens, you hold his hand firmly and remind him that you’re just as clueless and you will figure it out together. Truly, what a blessing you’ve been in his life.

When the newborn child is placed in his arms, Hanayama can feel his knees weakened by emotion for the very first time. Not only is this small human his own blood and flesh, but a part of (Y/N) as well, serving as a promise of devotion. You’re all his and now he has a permanent reminder of it. He chuckles, slightly regretful that he can no longer parade you around with an obvious belly. He feels you tug at his sleeve. “Have you told Kizaki?” You ask, fatigued. “I told everyone, actually. They’re all outside.” You cover your eyes with your arm, not wanting to imagine the sight. Dozens of yakuza casually hanging out in the hospital yard. Welcome to the family, I suppose.

#baki #baki the grappler #baki x reader #yandere #kaiou retsu #katsumi orochi #hanayama kaoru #baki headcanons #yandere baki

[harlowcomehome]

A Modern Cinderella Story:

It was New Year’s Eve, and although you had planned on staying in, your best friend Daya had been begging you to go to this party all week.

You weren’t exactly thrilled about it, being more of an introvert, but you didn’t want to disappoint her.

“Are you sure you can even bring a plus one?” You picked at your gel manicure as you sat on the couch across from her.

“Yes! I talked to Urban about it. We just have to leave our phones at the door” Daya squealed as she could see you visibly changing your mind.

“Is this Jack Harlows party?”

“Yeah! But he’ll probably be too busy at the DJ booth or something. That’s his thing now” she snorted.

Daya was a model, an Instagram model but still gorgeous and full of opportunities nonetheless. Thats how she met Urban and scored this invite in the first place.

“Fine, I’ll go! But you have to help me pick out an outfit!” You stood up from the couch, ready to start the shower as Daya rummaged through your things.

Daya knew you had an innocent crush on Jack, and was making it her mission to get you two acquainted by the end of the night.

When you were out of the shower you had three dresses laid across your bed that you didn’t recognize, laughing to yourself as you noticed they were all Dayas, two of them still had their original tags.

Once you were clothed in pajamas, you went into the living room, where Daya scrolled on her phone avoiding your gaze.

“D! You expect me to wear one of those dresses? It won’t be too much?”

“It’s New Year’s Eve! Trust me! Please?” She poked her bottom lip out knowing you’d oblige.

You threw your head back and laughed before turning back around and walking into your bedroom. You only had an hour and half to get ready so you had to be quicker than usual.

When you and Daya walked into the party you were immediately greeted by tons of people you didn’t know. You both set your phones aside at the door and you followed her lead as she worked the room.

Both of you got a drink at the open bar to calm your nerves, feeling overwhelmed by the amount of people present.

“So you’re the famous y/n huh? Daya talks about you a lot” Urban came up behind you both with a giant smile. He was nice and inviting just as Daya had explained him to be.

“I’ve heard a lot about you too” you smirked, nursing the drink you had ordered at the bar. Daya blushed, trying not to look at you with wide eyes as she was embarrassed.

You practically choked on your drink when you spotted Jack, he was a lot taller in person than expected, more handsome too.

Urban followed your gaze, “do you want me to introduce you?” He yelled over the music, catching you off guard as you nervously shook your head.

“No? Are you sure?” Urban teased knowing what Dayas plan for the night was.

“She means yes!” Daya dragged you by the arm and you two followed Urban to the DJ booth.

“Daya…” you warned, already feeling incredibly shy.

Jack leaned down, listening to Urban as he told him your names.

He exited the DJ booth giving both you and Daya a warm hug, which neither of you expected.

“I’m Jack! Nice to meet you both” he was definitely humble, which surprised you considering he had every reason not to be.

He pulled back, making direct eye contact with you. His aquamarine eyes made you almost freeze in the moment.

“Y/N? Do you want to help me up here?” He motioned to the DJ area. “Maybe we can leave these two to have a moment alone?” He smirked, noticing Urban and Daya hadn’t taken their eyes off each other yet.

“Here, let me take your drink” he took it from you placing it to the side as he grabbed both of your hands and helped you up the steps. Jack knew he had to help you up the wooden steps as he noticed your heels immediately.

“Thank you, there is no way I could’ve made it up those with these on.” You tapped your heels against the wooden floor you were standing on.

They were three-inch heels and Jack still towered over you.

“Yeah, I didn’t think so either” he laughed, his laugh immediately drawing you in.

You both couldn’t stop smiling, the flirty banter coming off more natural than you thought it would.

“Do you always DJ your own parties?” You teased, making him blush.

“I guess you could say, it’s a new hobby of mine” he chuckled, tongue to cheek.

“I see! A man of many talents” you giggled, placing your hand on his chest briefly.

“You’re familiar with my other…” he paused, trying to compose himself, trying not to laugh. “Talents?”

“Mhm,” you smiled, leaning over him. “Show me what this does?” You pointed to a knob on the soundboard. Truthfully you weren’t at all interested in any of that, you just wanted to keep him talking.

As the night went on, you didn’t leave that spot with Jack. The two of you talked for hours, it wasn’t until almost midnight that you realized you hadn’t seen Daya in a while.

You had a few empty solo cups beside you and eventually moved to sitting down. There was a private area beside the DJ booth and your legs somehow ended up across Jack's lap, your heels had fallen off beside him.

Jack shared some plans for his upcoming album, and you expressed your excitement letting him know you’d want to keep in touch.

It was almost midnight, and you and Daya had originally planned to beat traffic by leaving early.

You started to look around the room, which worried Jack as he realized you were preparing to leave.

“Leaving me already?” He pouted, his hand resting on your thigh.

“If I stay, you won’t have a chance to miss me” you winked before standing up, pulling your dress down as it had been previously bunched up from sitting.

Jacks eyes staying on you as you now noticed Daya was already making her way over.

Jack felt a sense of disappointment wave over him as he wanted you to be his New Year’s kiss, not having had one last year either.

“Our Uber is outside! Come on!” Daya hollered as she helped you down the steps.

The sheer tights you had under your dress hit the party floor and you immediately noticed you had left your heels with Jack.

You and Daya ran outside hoping to catch your Uber before he left to pick up someone else but it was too late as you two watched him drive away.

“Fuck!” Daya groaned, ordering another Uber.

“It’s going to be a ten-minute wait” she groaned as the two of you sat down on the curb.

“Y/N? Where the hell are your shoes?”

Before you could answer you spotted both Jack and Urban running toward the two of you, Jack with your heels in his hands.

“Right there” you smirked as you watched Jack's curls flop up and down with every stride.

“Ooooh, you’re like Cinderella or something” Daya teased.

“Does that make me Prince Charming?” Jack teased having heard Daya as he ran up to you.

“Damn you have good hearing” you giggled.

“A man of many talents remember?” He handed you your heels.

“Something like that” keeping eye contact as he leaned down to kiss you, just as the fireworks started to fill the sky.

“Happy New Year Cinderella” he laughed through continued kisses.

“Happy New Year Jack.”

#Jack Harlow #Jack Harlow x reader #jack harlow concepts #jack harlow blurb #jack harlow imagines #Jack Harlow fanfic #fic requests

[lenaisagirl]

Pomni X Ragatha

Disclaimer! I wrote this on company time. Also this is the first time I've ever shared art online so be nice k thx bye! <3 As Pomni walked around in the second day of her own digital hell, she finally got a chance to note the smaller peculiarities. Music seemed to play no matter where she was. Her footsteps sounded like a royalty-free sound byte, and everything had an unnatural, plastic-y sheen to it.

This only compounded with her other anxious thoughts. What causes abstraction, anyway? How far could she indulge her insanity before she lost it completely, becoming a monster in Caine's cellar?

“Hey, Pomni? You listening?” Ragatha interrupted Pomni's internal monologue, frowning slightly with concern.

“Y-yeah I’m listening. Something about… the concession stands?” Pomni said, shocked out of her stupor. She glanced nervously side to side, looking at the landscape around her. They stood in the middle of the theme park, which was unusually empty for what it was supposed to be. The only presence was a few concession stands manned by empty-faced mannequin NPCs.

Ragatha frowned, unsatisfied with the answer. Moving to Pomni’s front, she crouched down to meet her eye level.

“Hey, new stuff?”

“I know this takes time to get used to… So if you don’t wanna do this, it's okay!” An earnest, sewn-on smile followed her words.

“No, no! This is great. And, um… I really need the company.” said the little jester, as she let out a nervous laugh. In return, Pomni received a soft pat on the head.

“Alright Pomni. I’ll be here as long as you need.” With that, she stood back up, and took a few steps back, holding out her hand to Pomni.

“R-right. That’s – I mean. Thank you.” With a tilted smile, she tentatively reached to accept her hand. While she expected Ragatha’s hand to be a dull, unnaturally smooth surface like everything else - it wasn’t? Beneath her gloves, Pomni could feel real texture, as if she was truly grabbing a ragdoll’s hand. It was a nice change of pace, and brought to her face the first genuine smile she’d had while here.

And so they exited the theme park, quiet at first. Looking towards the night half of the skybox, one could almost be convinced it was a starry night. That is - until you spun around and saw the bright-as-day portion of the skybox.

“Um… Ragatha? Where exactly are we going?” Pomni asked tentatively. It's not that she was distrustful, just shaken up from the past “adventure” and as the lakeside forest of smooth plastic looking trees grew around her, thoughts of losing her tracks crept into her mind.

“Just a little spot out in the forest. Just somewhere away from Jax – er, I mean, the stress of it all. You know.” She held her hand up to her face and chuckled.

“Just - keep it a secret, okay?” She turned around to face Pomni, smiling ever so awkwardly. A kindred spirit, Pomni smiled just as awkwardly in return.

“Well. Here it is.” Letting go of Pomni’s hand, she gestured broadly at the space around them. Really it was just a rock, one of the few bits of decoration that even existed within the forest. Oddly enough, it was actually about chair-shaped. Being so close to the island's edge, Pomni wondered if this was an unfinished overlook.

“It's nice… I think!” As far as cartoonishly digital worlds went, it wasn’t that bad of a place to be. Ragatha walked over to the rock, plopping dramatically on top of it and patting the space beside her.

Pomni, much shorter, had to jump slightly, crawling on top of the rock before taking a seat. For a moment, they simply looked onward into the skybox.

“What… what do you think you were like? Y’know. Before all this?” said Pomni cautiously. It was probably a sore spot, but nevertheless she was curious about her new friends.

“Who knows? I don’t think about it too much, uncontrollable insanity and all that.”

The jester nodded. Like she thought - a sore spot, likely for all of them. Ragatha turned her gaze away from the cliff’s edge and toward her friend.

“Maybe… A waitress? Oh, or a dancer. I'm really good on my feet!” Ragatha kicked her legs as she spoke to add emphasis.

“How about you, new stuff? Gee, I hope you don’t mind me calling you new stuff all the time.” She folded her arms, and glanced to the side.

“Nah, I kinda like it. I mean – it's nice to have a friend, is all.” Pomni looked down at her legs, kicking them slightly as she thought of who she might have been.

Did it matter? Would she ever find out? Did she want to know what kind of life she was missing out on? Her pupils started to dilate as panic rose in her system.

“Pomni? We don’t have to talk about it.”

Ragatha interrupted her panic attack – this time with a hand on the shoulder. Looking up from the ground, the poor jester's eyes welled up slightly, reflecting Ragatha’s face back at herself.

“You okay…? Need a hug, new stuff?” Looking in Ragatha's eyes, she saw a worried expression. At least if she was stuck here, there was someone who cared. Merely nodding, Pomni leaned forward, clinging to her raggedy dress fabric. Slightly surprised, Ragatha smiled, wrapping her linen hands around the poor girl.

“T-thank you.” Pomni squeaked out.

“Hey don’t even worry about it. We gotta stick together, right?” Patting Pomni on the head, she softly ruffled the jester hat.

“Right… It’ll be okay.” And for once, she believed it.

#Pomni X Ragatha #Ragatha x pomni #pomni #ragatha #fan fiction #fanfic #the amazing digital circus #tadc #yuri #fluff #gay #:3

[notyourhetloki]

AAA all your Ken stuff make me giggle nonstop idk how you do it🫢🫢 I was thinking what IF Ken AND Barbie started falling in love with Reader, and we had to pick at the end I would love to see your twist on that love u 😙❤️❤️

competition (Ken x Reader x Barbie)

Reader: gender neutral

/Ken x Reader x Barbie/

A/N: Hi, anon! AWW thank you so much!! I loved this request, and I hope you like it too! lots of luv xoxo (Stereo!Barbie = Stereotypical Barbie / RG!Ken = Ryan Gosling Ken; I thought abt calling him 'Beach!Ken' but idk if there are more Kens like him so... yeah.)

—

It all started when you arrived at Barbieland, nervous but completely in awe of this new world.

Stereo!Barbie was one of the first dolls to greet you, holding your hand and guiding you through the streets to your new house.

‘They’re so cute!’ Barbie thought to herself, completely charmed by your smile and shyness… she really wanted to get to know you better.

And so thought RG!Ken when you walked past the beach. Barbie was still holding your hand, and he was intrigued… who was this new doll she was seeing? He needed to find out.

As time went by, Barbie would visit you daily, bringing small gifts and inviting you to parties… and you would always go!

Ken would also be at those parties, curious about you… the more he got to know you, the more he got obsessed. He loved your laughter, loved the way you danced, and he would always try to join you, succeeding most times.

Barbie began hating when Ken danced with you, something in her screamed ‘NO’ when she saw you two having fun without her. She wanted you to dance with HER, not HIM… was this… jealousy? What a weird feeling.

She then also joined the dance, nailing the choreography while trying to push Ken away, but it didn’t work… Ken would come back stronger than ever, dancing as if his life depended on it (he was trying to impress you).

When the music stopped, Barbie was quick enough to grab your hands and lead you somewhere more private, looking into your eyes before asking: “(Y/N), would you like to stay over?”

Before you could answer, you heard a loud gasp. Turning around, you saw a shocked Ken sneaking in behind you, trying to listen to the conversation.

Ken was stunned because 1. Barbie had never asked him to stay over when they were together, and 2. That meant it was getting serious! And he needed to act fast.

“Sorry, Barbie… (Y/N) can’t stay over at your house tonight, I’m taking them to the beach to have a little date, isn’t that right, doll?”

‘Doll?? Why did he call you that? And a date?? You were going on a date with Ken?? What was going on?!’ Barbie thought.

“Hum…” you managed to start, but you couldn't even protest before Ken tried pulling you away by your arm.

Barbie immediately pulled your other arm, trying to get you to stay. You felt like they would split you in half like that, fighting for your attention.

“GUYS…” You finally shouted, making them stop. “The only place I’ll go is home! Goodnight!” Anger filled your voice as you walked away, leaving the two behind.

“Look at what you've done!!” “What I’VE done?? What do you mean??” You could still hear their banter as you exited Barbie’s house, and that irritated you even more.

At your house, hours had passed and you were preparing to sleep when you heard the doorbell ringing.

Opening the door, you were surprised and a little annoyed at the presence of the fantastic duo. Barbie and Ken stood there with sad puppy expressions before she spoke first. “(Y/N)… we’re sorry we hurt you, it wasn’t our intention!”

You gently smiled at her, accepting her apology. Then, Ken started talking as well. “We just… really like you. I… we would like to have more of your attention, if that’s possible…” It seemed a little scripted, but you wondered he and Barbie had agreed on something to say... and that was cute. Besides, what did he mean by ‘really like you’, after all?

“Oh, guys… it’s alright! I promise I’ll equally schedule time for the both of you, is that ok?”

They looked at each other for a moment and nodded, smiling for their mission was a victory! You’d spend more time with them separately, it’s everything they could have asked for.

“Now… are you gonna stand there or come inside?” You teased, and their smiles grew wide before racing to your door.

(Because why choose if you could have both? ;D)

—

#ken #barbie #ken x reader #barbie x reader #ken x gn reader #barbie x gn reader #gender neutral #ryan gosling #margot robbie #imagine #headcanon #self insert #y/n #fanfic #fanfiction #request #notyourhetloki

[imaginewoso]

Come Back...Be Here - Leah Williamson

i’m sorry i’ve been gone for so long. life makes an awful habit of getting in the way sometimes.

i was listening to Come Back...Be Here (Taylor’s Version) as one does and this kinda just happened. Flashbacks in italics. Hope you like it.  

Leah would tell anyone who asked that she was fine. She had captained the Lionesses to a European Championship, Arsenal was sitting comfortably at the top of the table, and she was on the cover of British GQ. Leah was fine, great even…until she saw you, camera in hand, looking as beautiful as you did the day she first met you; as beautiful as you did the day she fell in love with you; as beautiful as you did the day you left.

OR a post breakup meeting leaves Leah less than fine (though she’d be kidding herself to think she has been anything but broken since you got on that plane to New York).

“Hey, we’re here. You coming?” Keira asked, startling Leah out of her daze. When the blonde looked up, she noticed that the bus was empty save for her and her best friend, the rest of the Lionesses having begun to make their way toward the studio where their media day was being held.

“Oh, thanks mate. I didn’t realize,” the English captain responded, grabbing her bag and shuffling toward the exit. She exhaled deeply, bracing herself for the hectic day she could only imagine was awaiting her. She hated media days. Though hard to believe, she didn’t like taking photos- not anymore.

Leah was nearly out the bus door when she felt Keira grab her arm gently. The blonde defender turned around expecting to see the midfielder smirking at her, a quip about her spaced-out state at the tip of her tongue. Instead, Leah turned to find Keira with a concerned look on her face.

“Leah, are you okay?” she muttered, worry clear in her voice. This was not the first time Keira had spoken those words. The question had become a common pillar in their friendship over the last two years.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Just tired. Long day, you know. We should get out there, the others are probably waiting,” Leah affirmed before hastily making her way toward the studio doors and heading to the changing rooms to join her teammates. Keira followed closely behind but did not get far before smashing straight into the blonde captain’s back.

“Leah, what are you doing?” she asked. But the defender did not give a response. Instead, she stood frozen, gaze fixed on the group of photographers setting up in the distance.

Keira turned to see what her best friend was staring at and let out a gasp.

Before she could even think to turn toward the blonde, Leah bolted.

******

Leah was buzzing. Heading into the winter break with four straight wins and no goals conceded was exactly what Arsenal needed after the less than ideal start to the 2017 season.

The smile had not left the blonde’s face since the final whistle. It stayed with her all the way home, while she slept, and now, the following day, as she walked alone through the holiday market. She had a couple of days to herself to relax and recharge before the festivities with her family began and she was going to take full advantage of them.

Leah took in her surroundings as she walked. She was completely enraptured with the lights and music and the smell of hot chocolate wafting through the market. So much so that she didn’t notice you standing in front of her looking down at the camera in your hand. It was only when she bumped into you that she was taken out of her daze.

The blonde heard the quiet “ouch” before she even processed what had happened.

“Oh my god, are you--” Leah began but her breath caught in her throat when she looked down.

Sprawled out on the floor looking confused at what had just happened was the most beautiful woman Leah had ever seen. You looked up at the blonde, and then, with wide-eyes, down to your side where your very expensive camera lay upside down in the snow. You quickly picked it up, inspecting it to see if there were any cracks on the lens or screen. When you were satisfied that it wasn’t broken, you began to get up off the ground.

Leah finally snapped out of her trance and offered you her hand. Sparks shot up her arm, even through her mittens, when you grabbed on to pull yourself up. “I am so sorry, I wasn’t looking where I was going, it’s just the market is my favourite place and I was staring at that hot cocoa cart and was trying to decide if I should get some and I --”

Your giggles cut off the nervous blonde’s rambling. “That’s alright, my fault. I shouldn’t have been looking down,” you replied sincerely.

The defender cleared her throat and looked at the camera. She rubbed the back of her neck nervously before she tentatively asked, “it’s not broken, is it?”

“Nah, it’s like I never dropped it, don’t worry about it,” you replied reassuringly, giving Leah a smile that had her absolutely melting despite the cold in the air.

“I’m Y/N,” you finally introduced yourself once you realized the blonde in front of you needed a little bit of a push.

“Y/N” the footballer whispered. When the blonde saw your eyebrows lift slightly, she realized she hadn’t introduced herself. “Leah” she blurted hastily; cheeks red from more than just the cold.

“It’s lovely to meet you, Leah. How about we go get you some of that hot cocoa that’s got you bumping into strangers, huh?” you teased before grabbing onto Leah’s arm and dragging her toward the cart.

******

It took Keira only ten minutes before she found her best friend, sitting in a broom closet, tears streaming down her face.

“What is she doing here? I was fine. I was doing more than fine. Thriving even,” Leah sputtered out in between sobs. Her hands covered her eyes as she tried to physically stop herself from crying.

“Leah, you weren’t fine,” Keira whispered, sitting on the floor beside her friend and throwing an arm around her back. “You haven’t been fine since she left.”

“I’ve been doing great. We, we won the fucking Euros for Christ sake,” she tried unsuccessfully to convince herself.

“Leah, I haven’t seen you genuinely smile in two years apart from when we won the Euros. And even then, you were holding back. It’s like you were looking for her in the crowd every chance you got, waiting for her to appear,” the midfielder said gently.

The blonde fell silent for a moment, taking in what Keira was saying. “God, I’m so pathetic, it’s been two years,” she sighed, finally admitting to herself and her best friend that she wasn’t fine.

“Oh mate, you’re not pathetic. We all saw how the two of you were together. I’ve never seen two people more in love. It’s normal to cry after seeing her for the first time since then,” Keira comforted, fixing the blonde’s out of place hairs.

“I don’t know if I can do it,” she whispered to her best friend. “I don’t know if can talk to her,” the blonde finished with a sigh.

“From the looks of it, she’s manning one of the stations so avoiding her doesn’t seem like it’s an option,” Keira said, squeezing one of Leah’s hands in comfort.

“What if I break down before I even say a word. Or worse, kiss her the second she looks into my eyes? Every scenario is a bad one,” Leah whined.

Keira giggled. “Yeah, maybe avoid the kissing right away, might throw her off. Though I do get the urge, she does look great,” the midfielder teased, earning a push to her chest and a glare from her friend— she always had been the jealous type when it came to you.

“She was your friend before you two dated, try to remember how you spoke to her then. Who knows, maybe this will be the closure you need, or the start of something new,” Keira mumbled the last part to herself as she stood up.

“Come on,” she offered a hand to the Lioness captain and pulled her up. “Let’s fix that makeup of yours, you look like a raccoon,” she joked, drawing a small smile from the blonde.

******

“This is so beautiful,” you heard Leah state softly as you got her a glass of water in the kitchen. The two of you hadn’t left one another’s side all that much since meeting but this was her first time in your apartment and she was admiring the artwork on your living room walls.

“Thank you,” you replied, putting her glass down before settling on the sofa, watching her admire a photograph of a busy London coffee shop.

“It’s like I’m sitting right there with them almost. I don’t know how to explain it, it’s like I can hear them chattering, and like I can smell the coffee they’re drinking,” she whispered in awe.

“Thanks. That’s what I was hoping for,” you smiled at her.

“You took this!?” She exclaimed, turning away from the frame and toward you for the first time since you entered the room.

“Yeah, it was part of my first year portfolio” you answered.

“Y/N it’s incredible, you’re incredible,” she gushed. You looked down, cheeks red from her compliment.

“You should open a gallery. Is that what photographers do? I’d come to your gallery,” she continued.

You cleared your throat and looked at her. “That’s the dream. Maybe one day,” you said wistfully.

“Can I see some of your other work maybe?” Leah asked tentatively, unsure if you two were at that point in your friendship yet.

“Absolutely,” you replied before pulling out a big book off your shelf which housed some of your photographs from your first two years in school. She flipped through each page, admiring every photo she came across.

“Think you can make me look that good?” She joked as she pointed to a photo of your best friend who had been your model for one of your assignments.

“Please, like you need me to help you look good,” you answered before you realized what you said. “Actually, I’ve got another project due soon and could use a model if you’re up for it,” you rushed out hoping to distract from your comment on her beauty.

“I’d love to be one of your models,” she said bashfully, smiling widely at you.

******

You stood at the back station, camera in hand. Leah took a deep breath and before she even realized what she was doing, her feet took her forward, Keira’s voice at the back of her mind. She was just gonna bite the bullet so they could move on with the day.

You were speaking to a couple of other photographers, seemingly giving out last minute instructions to the individuals who would be in charge of the other media stations — if the lanyards around their necks were any indication. She waited until you finished your speech and for the group to slowly disperse before she approached you. With your back toward her, she had a second to take a breath and prepare herself for the moment she had been waiting for for two years. She knew she didn’t have long though. You always did have a knack for feeling her before seeing her.

Just as expected, you stiffened slightly as she approached. You waited a beat, exhaling before you turned around. Your breath hitched the second your eyes met Leah’s. You knew you’d run into her at some point, it was inevitable, but you thought you’d have slightly more time to prepare yourself.

“Hi,” the blonde breathed out, eyes moving across your face, committing any differences she could find to her memory.

You had changed slightly since she last saw you. Your hair was touches lighter (you always did say you wanted to dye it), eyes a little dimmer (yet still her favourite shade of Y/E/C she had ever seen), but the small smile on your lips was just as beautiful as she remembered it.

“Hi,” you rasped back, doing the same thing, raking your eyes over her face before eventually down to her outfit. You couldn’t stop yourself from taking in the way her blue tracksuit fit (it always was your favourite colour on her, it brought out the blue in her eyes).

You realized what you were doing, and your eyes snapped back to her face. Any hope you had that she hadn’t noticed was gone the second you saw a tint of red covering her cheeks and a small smirk playing at her lips. Oops (you were only human).

“What, what are you doing here?” Leah stuttered after she finally recovered from having your eyes on her. She cursed herself for her delivery. Two years and that’s the best she could do. At least she wasn’t crying.

You lifted the camera in your hands and waved it around, “filling in for a friend. She had a last-minute emergency. I owed her a favour, so here I am.”

“Right, yeah, duh,” she replied. Of course, you were here for work, and nothing else. Her stomach churned as she wondered if the friend you were helping was just that and not someone more. It wasn’t any of her business though. Not anymore.

“I’d ask why you’re here but well, it wouldn’t be a Lioness media day without Captain Williamson, huh?” You teased. Leah’s heart fluttered. “It’s nice to see you, Leah,” you continued softly.

“It’s nice to see you too, Y/N,” she whispered. “How have you been, how is New York? The gallery?” she asked, swallowing loudly as soon as the question left her lips. It was still a sore spot.

“It’s lovely, everything I’ve dreamed of really. People seem to enjoy it,” you responded. Leah nodded with a small smile on her face. For as much as it hurt, she was glad to hear it from you that you had been doing well. She was well aware how successful your gallery in New York was (though she’d never admit it, too embarassed by the number of times she’d google your name when she couldn’t sleep at night, consumed by her heartbreak). “Of course they do, you’re the most talented photographer I know. Congratulations Y/N,” she replied.

“I think congratulations are in order for you too. Captaining your team to a Euros win at 25, Lee that is absolutely incredible.” Her heart fluttered once again, this time at the nickname she hadn’t heard in years (she nearly kicked a ball straight at Beth’s head the first and last time the forward called her that post your departure).

“Thank you, it’s been a pretty wild year. Sometimes it doesn’t feel real,” Leah responded, looking down at her feet shyly.

“I imagine. Euros, top of the table with Arsenal, GQ. Lots to celebrate,” you gushed before you could stop yourself. You never really could contain how proud you were of her during your relationship, that was unlikely to change.

Leah looked up, eyebrow raised and a smirk on her face. “You’re keeping up with my career?” she teased, finally gaining some of that confidence that you’d always loved, your words fuelling her. Maybe she wasn’t the only one doing the googling.

“Hard not to. I’ve been in London for two days and the Euros posters seem to be everywhere,” you feigned annoyance trying to brush passed your obvious slip up.  You were secretly proud that your voice hadn’t wavered (and revealed that you definitely had been keeping up with her career long before you arrived in your old hometown).

“And Arsenal?” she asked. Okay maybe you hadn’t been as convincing as you’d thought.

“My sister loves football, you know that. Texts me the table every Sunday.”

“And GQ?” she pushes, the smirk on her face growing.

“It’s my job, Leah. Magazine photoshoots are basically my homework,” you say, this time the lie clear as day.

Now her smile was wide. “And? What did you think? In your professional opinion, of course.”

“Stunning. They did a great job capturing your personality,” you replied earnestly after a beat.

“And your personal one?” she chanced, biting her lip the second she asked. She was definitely playing with fire but she never could help herself around you.

You paused, thinking of how to respond without revealing just how much the photoshoot had ruined you when it appeared on your feed.

“I thought you look—” but before she could finish, your familiar banter was cut off by a series of squeals.

In an instant, what felt like the entire Lionesses squad surrounded the two of you.

******

After a couple of weeks, Leah had finally convinced you to go to watch an Arsenal game. The two of you had been hanging out any time you were both free, but you hadn’t yet made your way to Meadow Park. Not for lack of trying but you were in your final year of school which meant putting together your portfolio took up most of your days.

“Who’s caught your eye, mate?” Beth asked Leah who seemed to be staring into the crowd every other minute while they warmed up.

“Huh? Oh nobody, just checking to see if Y/N found her seat okay that’s all,” Leah replied, once again looking at where you were meant to be seated.

“Your girlfriend finally came to watch us?” Beth gasped, taking at peak at where Leah kept glancing to try and get a look at the woman from the market that her friend had been telling them about for months.

“She’s not my girlfriend,” Leah grumbled for what felt like hundredth time. You weren’t dating. You were just two friends who happened to talk every day and hangout all the time and hold hands (but only in a friend kind of way). And yeah, maybe sometimes she got butterflies when you looked at her, and she couldn’t get you off your mind, and really she only spoke about you so much because you were the most talented person she ever met. It was totally normal for friends to act like that (she justified to herself).

It was only once the game started that Leah spotted you in the crowd, her red Arsenal jersey adorning your body and a small camera around your neck. The blonde’s heart soared at the sight of you sitting in the reserved family section.

“Let’s go, Williamson,” Beth snapped Leah out of her trance and dragged her toward the huddle. “Concentrate, you want to impress your girl, don’t you?" she teased.

“She’s not my—” Leah started before being interrupted. “Yeah yeah, not your girl, sure sure. Regardless, let’s put on a good show for her, yeah?” Beth stated.

“Yeah.” And put on a show they did, beating Tottenham 5-0, Leah scoring a header in the second half which you could not shut up about the minute she exited the locker rooms.

“Oh my gosh, that was incredible, Lee. You were fantastic. You run so fast, and that header was perfect,” you gushed, pulling Leah into a hug which she was grateful for because that meant you couldn’t see her skin turn the same shade of red as the jersey you were wearing.

“Thank you,” she whispered into your neck before you heard someone clear their throat. When you separated, her teammates were beside you, eager to meet the woman who was taking up so much of their friend’s time.

“Y/N, nice to finally meet you. We thought Leah was making you up,” Beth said, clapping her hand on the blonde’s shoulder.

“Yeah, Leah has not shut up about you since you two met. It’s nice to put a face to the name,” Jordan revealed. “That is so not true,” the blonde muttered and looked down.

You looked at Leah and smiled before turning to the rest of the team and introducing yourself, saving her the embarassment and changing the subject (more for fear that they’d catch on to your obvious swooning).

******

“Y/N! What are doing in London?”

“Why didn’t you tell us you were gonna be our photographer?”

“Oh my gosh you finally dyed your hair.”

You were bombarded with a series of questions and did your best to answer all of them, happy to see the group of women in front of you.

Leah couldn’t stop staring at you as you interacted with her teammates. She wasn’t the only one who lost someone when you got on that plane to New York. You had become an important part of her friend group throughout your three-year relationship with the blonde, having come to both club and country games. She really couldn’t fault them for being excited to see you (but that didn’t mean she wasn’t a little ticked off that they had burst the bubble the two of you had been in moments earlier).

“You okay?” Leah heard before she felt Keira’s comforting hand on her arm. The other girls knew Leah had been sad when the two of you had ended your relationship (anybody would be). But only Keira really saw just how heartbroken the split had left their captain. The midfielder had never heard her best friend sob like she did that first month of your breakup.

Leah looked to Keira and nodded but her eyes told a different story. The joy (relief almost) of seeing you was still present, but the pain of you being so close but not hers was finally catching up. She swallowed hard and looked away. If she looked at her best friend any longer, she’d cry again and she couldn’t do that in front of all these people.

Luckily, Sarina appeared and told everyone it was time to get their hair and makeup done before starting the photos. The Lionesses shuffled toward their seats, waving at you with promises of ‘see you later.’ Keira stayed beside the blonde but when she realized Leah wasn’t moving because she wanted to talk to you, she patted her friend’s elbow and left you two alone to talk after giving you a quick hug.

“You’re in charge of video or photos?” Leah asked.

“I get the honour of individual photos. Easy stuff for me today,” you replied, happy to have escaped the group photo and video stations—you knew how rowdy they could get.

“So I’ll see you later then?” The blonde asked hopefully.

“I imagine the captain can’t escape individual photos. Might actually be seeing more of you than the others,” you giggled nervously.

“Okay,” she breathed out.

“Okay,” you repeated. “I’ll see you, have fun Leah,” you said kindly, squeezing her arm before being called over by a fellow photographer.

Leah stared at you as you walked away, arm on fire where you had touched her for the first time in so long. She took a deep breath to calm her beating heart. When it didn’t work, she sighed and made her way toward her hair and makeup seat with one last look your way. This was going to be a long day.

******

“Come on Y/N, you can do it, I believe in you,” Leah shouted from her spot in goal. She had forced you to get on the pitch with her at the park near her home on one of the rare days the two of you both had off. Now personally, you would rather not be here embarrassing yourself with your severe lack of coordination and clumsiness. But Leah had asked, with her low voice and piercing eyes and well who were you to say no, really?

“I can’t, Lee. I’m not made for sports, I’m made for the arts,” you groaned dramitcally as the ball rolled to the far left of the goal post for the sixth time in a row.

“It’s because you’re hitting the ball with the wrong part of your foot. You have to hit the laces not the toes,” the blonde offered, trying to be helpful.

“I thought I was doing that,” you sighed, frustrated that you couldn’t get it.

“No, you’re definitely all toe,” Leah spoke softly as she left the net and approached you. “You have to angle it,” she tried again but when you gave her a blank stare, she took a hold of your foot and positioned it perfectly under the ball.

Your breath hitched as she stood up and was much closer than she had been a minute ago. She cleared her throat before getting next to you. “Now, back up a couple of steps, look exactly where you want the ball to end up and hit it with the laces, exactly where I put your foot.”

You took a deep breath and did exactly as Leah told you. The ball flew through the air and hit the net.

“Oh my god, I did it, Lee did you see that!? It was perfect. It went straight in,” you exclaimed, and Leah giggled at your excitement.

“You’re practically a pro, you’ll be on the team in no time,” she joked.

“Okay, that was exhausting. My turn in net. You take some shots,” you said while making your way to where Leah had just been.

“I don’t know that that’s a great idea,” she cautioned, scared you’d get hurt.

“Nonsense. Just don’t send a bullet and I’ll be fine,” you reassured her. But you were definitely wrong. Because though you didn’t have to worry about Leah hitting you with the ball (she’d never actually shoot hard) you did have to worry about your own clumsiness. When you moved to the right to try and save a shot, you tripped over your foot and landed on your knee. The blood was instant really.

The two of you rushed to Leah’s house around the block and went straight to the bathroom to clean up the little cut which had surprising let out a lot of blood.

She knelt in front of you and cleaned it up with gentle hands, tongue darting out as she concentrated on trying not to hurt you.

Once the band aid was on, she looked up at you and saw you staring at her with an unreadable expression on your face.

“What?” she questioned, which snapped you out of your thoughts of the woman in front of you. For someone so stoic on the field, she really was so gentle.

“No kiss to make it better?” You teased, brow raised, and a smirk plastered on your face in an attempt to divert the attention away from her question before you blurted out that you were in love with her.

But you didn’t get the chuckle you were hoping for, or the push to the shoulder you had grown so accustomed to. Instead, Leah looked straight at you, eyes full of determination, and perhaps a hint of uncertainty.

Your smirk faltered slightly, “Lee are you ok—hmphh.” Soft lips met yours forcefully, cutting you off mid-sentence. The blonde’s hand grabbing your shirt. The two of you fell into a heated rhythm, months of pining on both ends culminating into this moment. After a few minutes you pulled away to catch your breath.

“You know I meant on the knee but this was definitely much better,” you whispered, eyes still closed before diving back into her.

*****

“Leah, earth to Leah,” Beth yelled across the room to their captain who had not said a single word since she sat down in the black hair and makeup chair.

A half hour had passed and Leah hadn’t been able to take her eyes off you, scared that if she did you’d disappear and she’d never see you again.

Jordan, who was sitting on Leah’s left, elbowed the distracted woman lightly, trying her best to bring her attention to Beth, if only to stop the loudness.

“Beth, stop yelling,” Leah deadpanned, finally turning her attention to her teammate.

“How was your conversation with Y/N? From the looks of it there was definitely lots of flirting,” Beth teased just as she always had when it come to you and the blonde.

“We weren’t flirting.”

“You sure? I saw that lip bite and all the checking out. Thinking of making a move, mate?” She continued, despite Keira’s mumbled, “Beth, stop,” the second the words left her mouth.

Leah glared. “It’s not like that. We were just catching up,” she argued.

“You sure? Because you haven’t stopped looking at her since you sat down,” Beth pushed.

“I’m just trying to see what the set up is for when I have to go up there,” Leah bit back.

“Mhmm, yeah I’m sure. Well, better prepare yourself, she’s coming this way,” Beth practically sang.

“That’s not funny. I’m obviously not going to fall for that,” Leah spat out only to feel a hand gently hand on her shouder. Her head turned sharply at the contact, forcing you to immediately let go of her.

“Hey guys, I’m sorry to interrupt, but we’ve got to get this rolling. I don’t mind what order you do it in, just make sure you each hit all the stations. Pictures are gonna be in the home and away kits but we also have to get some with the new sports bras. Good?” You commanded more than asked the room of Lionesses, falling into your role as head photographer. Once you received nods, you made your way over to your station in the back corner to prep for whoever decided to join you first.

“You’re drooling,” Beth pretended to wipe Leah’s mouth before making her way over to your station, smirk firmly in place.

“Come on, Leah, let’s get the videos out of the way,” Keira said, dragging the blonde in the opposite direction.

*****

“We’re nearly done, then we can cuddle and watch Lord of the Rings all night if you’d like,” you promised.

Leah had agreed to model for you for a project you were working on, partly inspired by her, highlighting women in their fields. You had already finished all the other portraits, saving what you thought would be the easiest for last.

This is how you ended up in a rented studio, Leah in her kit, and and a football at her feet.

You needed this to be perfect. You needed to make sure you got the perfect shot. It was your first project post graduation and you knew it needed to be exceptional. Which is why you had been here for the past three hours.

“Babe, is it something I’m doing?” She questioned, exhaustion clear in her voice.

“No, god no you’re perfect. It’s just missing something but I can’t tell what,” you sighed.

“Can I make a suggestion?” she asked.

“Please do.”

“It’s because I’m alone,” she started. You stared at her, eyebrow raised in question. “It’s a team sport, it feels weird because I’m alone and I shouldn’t be because nothing I do is ever alone. There’s always another player or opponent their guiding me,” she finished.

You were silent for a moment.

“Y/N?”

“You’re brilliant. You’re absolutely right. Do you think we can get some of your teammates on board?” you questioned, your mind already racing with ideas of how you could incorporate the other women.

“Of course, I’m sure they’d be super into,” she giggled, already picturing the mayhem that would ensue. She moved right in front of you, pulling your attention away from the ideas in your head. You moved the hair out of her face and behind her ear. You stood there for a moment, admiring her beauty.

“What?” she asked, wrapping her arms around your shoulders.

“I love you, thank you,” you whispered softly, your eyes full of love. Leah smiled wide before pulling you into a kiss.

“I love you too,” she murmured against your lips before stepping back. “Now let’s wrap this up, I was promised cuddles and intend to hold you to it,” she said with a wink.

*****

Leah had put it off for as long as she could but the day was coming to an end soon and she only had your station left.

She had been sneaking glances at you working all day— while she waited at each photo station, during lunch, between video set ups. She saw you working with each Lioness, catching up with old friends and getting to know the new girls on the squad. Each woman left your station smiling after you had shown them the photos.

Tentatively, Leah approached you as you were going through the photos from the day, noting the edits that needed to be done as you waited for whoever was left (you knew it was Leah, you had been waiting all day, slightly disappointed anytime someone new joined you and it wasn’t your favourite blonde). You turned toward her as she peaked at the screen over your shoulder.

“Those look incredible,” she breathed out, in awe of your talent.

“Thanks, Lee” you blushed, both at her words and proximity.

“Home kit first?” She asked, already adorned in the white Nike jersey. Once you nodded she headed toward the tarp, taking a moment to fix her hair into its signature ponytail.

“Look okay?” She asked, shyly. She knew you loved her hair in a ponytail.

“Looks great but,” you paused to go and grab something on your work table before making your way toward her. “You’re missing something,” you continued, holding the captain’s armband out for her to slip her arm into.

“Ready to go, Captain?” You patted the sleeve before retreating to grab your camera (giving Leah a chance to recover and the blush on her face to subdue).

“Ready when you are.” She stated nervously, unsure how this was going to go. You hadn’t photographed her in years. But her worries were forgotten the second you started. You both fell into the familiar rhythm you had perfected by the end of your three year relationship.

“Good Leah, that’s great, love the ‘I could punch someone look’ it’s very you,” you joked, making her giggle.

“There’s that smile. Keep her there for a second, yeah?” you half-asked, half-commanded.

Leah’s giggles rang out through the studio as you continued on asking her to do various funny poses in an attempt to loosen her up. It caught the attention of her teammates who watched on, the newer call-ups surprised to see their normally stoic captain so care-free, and the older ones sharing silent looks and fond smiles at seeing remnants of the old Leah they hadn’t known in years.

“Great. I think we’ve got the home kit shot,” you told her once you were satisfied with the photos on your computer screen. “Let’s reset and get the next fit done,” you finished, finally looking up at the blonde to see that she had already lost her shirt and was standing in the new sports bra.

You gulped, eyes trailing down to her abs on full display. She cleared her throat pointedly and your eyes snapped up to her smirking face.

“I figured sports bra would be easier first,” she explained, her tone teasing but the want in her eyes— the want you were sure was a reflection of what she was seeing in your eyes— betraying her aloofness.

“Yeah, yup good call,” was all you could get out, still slightly flustered. You needed to get it together. You were a professional dammit. So, you bit your lip and snapped the photos as quickly as possible.

“Alright perfect, I think we got them. Put a shirt on, we’ll get the last ones done,” you said almost desperately.

“I don’t know that I’ve ever heard you say that to me,” she laughed as your cheeks flushed.

“Cheeky,” you mumbled good-naturedly, fidgeting with your camera settings as she changed. The away kit photos happening just as quickly now that she was more comfortable in front of your camera.

“That’s a wrap for you, Leah. Want to see them?” You asked, receiving your answer when she approached you to see your screen. You showed her the overview and accepted her praises graciously.

“I look quite fit in those ones,” she said proudly, pointing to the away kit photos.

You snorted. “Please, you look quite fit in all of em, Lee. The armband suits you,” you told her earnestly.

She stared at you, eyes flickering across your face to see if you had meant it. The want was clear in her eyes again and you gulped, this time not trying to take back the compliment. You meant it.

“Thank you,” she rasped, her eyes now trained on your lips.

“Anyway, it is my job to make you look good,” you joked, successfully clearing the heavy air. If she looked at you like that any longer you don’t know what you would do.

“Is that right?” She asked, eyebrow raised. You laughed but didn’t answer. She knew you were joking. You had always told her that she was the easiest person to take photos of, her beauty making any angle work.

“Looks like everyone’s wrapping up,” you pointed out, noticing how most of the Lionesses were heading to the changing rooms to get back into the clothes they had arrived in.

“I should probably get changed too,” she sighed, not wanting to leave you but feeling the tiredness catching up with her from the long day.

You nodded, putting some distance between the two of you and beginning to clean up your station. “I will leave you to it then.”

“Thanks Y/N, for the photos,” she said. You gave her a small smile and nod before busying yourself with cleaning up. If you didn’t do something with you hands you’d definitely try to snatch her up and keep her with you forever.

Leah looked at you longingly. She sighed slightly before turning around and heading toward her teammates. She could feel your eyes on her back the entire way.

*****

“So that’s it? You’re going?” Leah whispered, tears streaming down her face as she struggled to get the words out.

You had both been woken up by the sound of your phone ringing two nights ago. The call was from an artist in New York with a room open in their gallery and they wanted you and your pictures to take up that space. Your career had been slow to start following the completion of your degree and this was the big break you had been waiting for.

“Lee—”

“I don’t understand. I don’t understand how you can just be okay with leaving,” she continued.

“I’m not just okay with leaving. London is my home. You’re my home. But it’s an opportunity I can’t turn down, Leah. You have to understand,” you pleaded with your girlfriend, wanting her to understand why you needed to do this.

“So stay. If I’m you’re home then don’t leave me, please,” she practically begged.

“I can’t Leah. The gallery is a dream come true.  They asked for me. They called for me. I can’t turn that away. I’ve worked so hard to be here and I can’t turn it away.”

“So you’re turning away from me instead,” the blonde whispered.

“I’m not turning away from you Leah, this doesn’t need to be the end. I don’t get why we can’t do long distance, just for a little while until I figure this out,” you begged her to hear you out.

“What, so we can end up like every single long-distance couple we know? Broken up and practically strangers,” the blonde spat out. The aggression she normally only showed on the pitch was now directed at you. “I’m not going to let us get to that point, Y/N.”

“So instead of giving us a shot, you’re deciding that we’ll just be broken up and strangers before the long distance happens. How does that make any sense,” you tried to reason.

“This isn’t my fault. You’re the one who decided to change things, not me.”

“I don’t want to break up, Leah,” you sighed, the frustration slipping out.

“No, but you want New York and I can’t be your long distance girlfriend,” Leah said, a finality to her voice that you knew meant it was the end. “I can’t Y/N, I’m sorry,” she said, bringing you into a hug as you both sobbed.

You were set to leave in 3 days. Those were the worst three days of your life. You and Leah agreed your breakup would only be official once you got on that plane. Until then, the two of you were glued to one another. She even helped with booking flights and curating the pieces you wanted to present.

But she could not help with packing, helping you back up your shared life together would hurt to much. So she watched from your bed as you packed instead, eyes watering with every piece of you that was put into a box. You stopped right before packing away her favourite of your hoodies, and you immediately handed it over to her. “It looks better on you anyway,” you murmurred, which had her crying all over again.

When the time came to leave, you hoped with everything in you that she’d change her mind and try to make the distance work. But by four in the morning when you had to leave, she hasn’t said a word.

“I love you so much, Lee,” you whispered, leaning down to give her a kiss on her forehead before leaving the bedroom, suitcase in hand.

She wanted to stop you. Wanted to tell you to come back and stay in bed with her, just for a little longer. Wanted to tell you she was wrong and that the two of you shouldn’t break up and that you could make it work. But she knew she couldn’t. Not with your busy schedules. Not when the mere thought of you across the ocean split her heart in two. She couldn’t handle it. If you weren’t together, then the distance wouldn’t feel as bad, she tried to convince herself. But as she watched you leave, she wasn’t so sure.

“I love you, Y/N” she said through sobs once she heard the front door shut.

*****

Leah was one of the last to leave the changing rooms and when she emerged she found most of the Lionesses surrounding you, bidding you goodbye.

She approached the group, catching the tail end of Jordan’s promise to send you pictures of Blu. One by one your old friends hugged you, before making their way outside toward the bus. Leah stared, wondering if she’d be able to hug you too, but not for long. Once it was the two of you alone, you turned toward her, arms open with an unsure smile on your face.

The blonde melted into the hug. She inhaled your familiar perfume and burrowed into your steady arms, trying her best to commit this to her memory. She didn’t know when she’d get the chance again. You held on just as tightly, before reluctantly letting her go and taking a step back.

Silence fell over you.

“So, when do you head back home, to New York, I mean?” Leah finally asked, dreading the answer.

“Not for a couple of days actually,” you responded, surprise evident on Leah’s face. You were never in London for longer than you needed to be—that’s what your mutual friends had told her whenever she’d catch wind of you being in the city.

“You’re visiting family?” she pried tentatively, trying to gage what was keeping you here.

“Yeah, mostly. It’s been a while since I’ve been here and I promised my nan I’d help her with some stuff around the house,” you offered and Leah smiled (her and your nan always did get on well).

“Well maybe we could get a coffee or breakfast or something, if you wanted to sometime before you help her out or even just before you leave. Maybe Monday morning. If you’re not busy, I mean,” Leah stumbled through the invite.

“I’m sorry, Leah I can’t,” you started but before you could finish she interrupted you.

“Oh, no that’s fine you probably have people to see and stuff to do. That’s totally okay,” she rushed out, heart breaking at that fact that this might be the last she sees of you for a while.

“No Leah I didn’t mean at all, I just meant I can’t Monday morning,” you reassured her.

“Oh,” the blonde Lioness squeaked out, slightly embarrassed by her ramble.

“Maybe Monday afternoon?” You asked gently. “I’m actually going to check out a gallery space and should finish up right around lunchtime.”

Leah stared at you for what felt like an eternity. Her heart beating out of her chest at your words.

“A gallery space? Here? In London?” She questioned, the gears turning in her head trying to figure out why you’d be doing that without getting her hopes up.

Putting her out of her misery, you filled in the blanks for her. “The gallery in New York is doing really well. It’s finally at a point where I don’t need to be there all the time. I trust the team enough to keep it afloat. Figured I’d look into expanding.”

“Expanding to London?” You’re moving back?” Leah asked, holding her breath.

“If this space works out then I’d be back for most of the year. I’d have to travel to New York every couple of months, but I’d be here most of my time,” you answered.

Leah exhaled, trying to keep the wide smile off of her face and failing miserably.

“I was missing home,” you added, hoping she understood what you meant.

Her (now unabashed) smile an indication she had.“Home missed you too,” she replied quickly before Keira appeared in the door.

“Leah, we’ve got to head out. The bus driver is waiting,” she called out—it was clear in her voice she didn’t want to interrupt.

“I guess I’ll see you Monday?” You asked hopefully.

“Definitely, I’ll message you. We’ll work out the details,” she was almost giddy now.

“Okay,” you bit your lip, contemplating your next move. Before you could talk yourself out of it, you got closer, up onto your toes, and kissed her right cheek. “See you, Lee,” you whispered before waving goodbye to Keira and heading back to your station to finish up.

Leah gave you one last look before making her way toward her best friend.

“You okay, mate?” the midfielder asked, eyebrows raised at the smile on the blonde’s face.

Leah nodded, eyes sparkling and smile wide. Keira knew this time she meant it.

#woso imagine #leah williamson imagine #leah williamson x reader #uswnt x reader #woso x reader #engwnt x reader #engwnt imagine

[sachirobabe]

Chapter 1

Kuroo Tetsurou x reader

Wc: 986

Summary: You, a dedicated member of the girls' volleyball team, find an unexpected connection with Kuroo Tetsurou. Igniting a bond over shared passions and stolen moments, love blossoms on the court; all because you met him at a captains meeting.

Masterlist | Next —>

Taglist: @funky-writes, @lemurzsquad, @02shuuu

It was normal for third-years to be captains, but not necessarily in your case. You had been a captain since your first-year. Your coach had different rules, and everybody voted on a captain regardless of year status. Leading to you becoming a leader from your first year on the team.

Surprisingly, the girls and boys teams were kept separate often. The only one you were semi-close to was Nobuyuki Kai, only because you two were in the same class.

You had suggested numerous times for practice matches or jointed practices, but had consistently been turned down by the other captains and the boys' head coach.

Budgeting, costs and other important factors were assessed during the meeting. It was finally time for your yearly begging of having the two teams be closer.

"What could we benefit from playing with you guys?" Coach Nekomata crosses his arms in his seat.

"We've won the spring national tournament for the past two years." Your coach says curtly. “We’d be great practice.”

He ponders. "You've been at this since you were a little first-year, Y/n." Nekomata chuckles and turns in his chair to face you. "I like your determination. Why not? Let's do it."

"Really?" Your mouth is agape.

"Mhm." He agrees. "We'll plan at least one practice match every week."

"Thank you!" You bow to him and the new captain sitting next to him.

"You won't regret it, coach." Mori, your coach gives him a wide smile.

"We won't go easy on you." The new captain exits along with you.

"Better not." You smile back. "I'm Y/n L/n, I'm sorry I never got to formally meet you in there."

"It's all good. Kuroo Tetsurou." He says back. "New year already, huh?"

"Last one, too." You smile softly, "You think you'll get many new players trying out?"

He thinks for a moment, "Probably not, you?"

"We always have a big turnout, but most of the unserious players quit after the first day. I think we’ll get 3-4 new first-years.” You answer.

"I'm really excited for the training camp, you're assisting right?" He continues the small talk.

"Yeah I will, don't you remember me assisting the last couple of years?" You raise an eyebrow.

He laughs softly, "I do. Just wanted to make sure." He shrugs his broad shoulders. "Well anyway, I've gotta do some supply checks, I'll see you later." He waves and you give a small one back.

The spring wind softly blew, giving a nice breeze to the warm sun. First day of school and volleyball was tomorrow, you’re both excited and a little sad. This would be your last year before going to university.

You began to walk home, putting in your headphones to listen to music to past time. The music stopped, indicating you were getting a call. Confused, you look at your screen and see Himari, your best friend and teammate.

“Hello?” You pick up.

“Hey, you busy?” She asks out of breath.

“No, I’m just coming back from the captains meeting.” You say.

“I forgot that was today, how’d it go?” She questions and hears you sigh, “You know what, come to my house. We can bake some cookies and talk about it.”

A small smile formed on your lips, you had good news, but you wanted to act upset so you could tell her in person. “I’m heading over, you need me to pick up anything at the store?”

“I don’t think so, my mom just went grocery shopping.” She says.

“Alright, I’m 5 minutes away.” You say and hang up, you quickly text your parents that you’d be going over to Himari’s for a little.

She lived next door to you, making you grow up with each other. Your mom had put you into volleyball from a young age and when Himari moved in, you asked her to play and she too, fell in love with the sport.

You don’t even knock anymore, that’s how close your families are. You let yourself in and see Himari sitting at her kitchen counter.

“Where’s your mom?” You say, wanting to greet her.

“She’s on a date!” Himari smiles widely. Her mother was divorced and ended up raising Himari herself.

“Please tell me it’s with the guy from the farmers market.” You ask and she nods furiously, making you both squeal. “Good for her. I hope it goes well.”

“Same here.” She agrees. “Now, tell me all about the meeting.” She pulls out a mixing bowl, already having the ingredients out.

You walk over to the sink to wash your hands, “You know how it always goes. Budgeting, storage, and whatnot.”

“So boring.” She rolls her eyes and eats a chocolate chip, “Did you ask coach Nekomata about joint practices or matches?”

“I did.” You say and stay quiet. “He said yes!”

She screams in excitement, “No way. Really?”

“Yes way. He said he liked my determination and would schedule a practice match every week!” You two hug and pull away.

“I’m so glad. We could definitely beat them.” She rolls her eyes.

“I know.” You smile. “I can’t wait to tell the rest of the team.”

“Speaking of, has coach gave you the practice plan?” She gulps.

“No.” You say with wide eyes. “It’ll probably be bad. She does it so she can weed out the weak ones.”

Himari grabs a cookie from the pan, “Lets toast, for the next two weeks of absolute hell.” You grab a cookie and touch it against hers giggling.

“It’s getting late.” You say, having to be up early after weeks of waking up late. “I’ll see you tomorrow!” You wave and jog to your house.

You greet your parents and quickly head off to your room to make sure you have everything for tomorrow. You have butterflies in your stomach as you lay in bed, forcing your eyes shut.

#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu #haikyuu x female reader #haikyuu x y/n #haikyuu x you #hq x reader #haikyuu!! #hq #haikyuu kuroo #kuroo x female reader #tetsurou kuroo x reader #kuroo x you #kuroo tetsurou #kuroo fluff #kuroo x reader #kuroo tetsuro x reader #hq kuroo #kuroo testuro #kuroo tetsurou x reader #kuroo tetsurō #kuroo tetsuro x you #haikyuu x volleyball player reader

[star-crifice]

Donatello 2012 x Reader

Words: ~1500

A/N: This was inspired by Lovers Rock - TV Girl btw :P

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

The successful invasion of New York City has been a while ago now. As you were stumbling across the streets past debris and mutated humans, you desperately sought for help. At that point, you’ve known the turtles for a few months. They send you a text to come outside so they could pick you up in their van. Not a moment has passed before they came drifting around the corner, stopping abruptly so you could jump inside.

That day, you fled your hometown and had to leave your whole life behind.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

“I love that song!” you exclaim with a small smile, not looking up from the old, chunky laptop in front of you. Donnie smiles back at you, lifting his head over his computer's screen to snatch a quick glance at you nodding your head to the beat. 

He thinks about what he should answer, analysing every option and its possible outcome. After overthinking it, he settles on a simple ‘Me too!’, however, doesn’t get it out in time, before it would be too late and awkward to answer.

Mentally facepalming himself for staying quiet, he tries to go back to work, but is quickly distracted by your humming. 

Donnie and you are alone together in the barn, just like he hoped. Though there isn’t much time for chatting or bonding or, well… making you fall for him or something…

Both of you are busy trying to translate and decode some Kraang data you stole from one of their headquarters back in NYC, before the invasion. It’s tiresome work with lots of dead ends, straining your patience. 

After a few days of sitting on the unreadable files, the Mutant decided to put on some music to lift the mood. It wasn’t as much of an impulsive idea as he pretended it was. In fact, it took him a whole day to get over his anxiety and bring up that idea.

And, who would’ve thought, he just so happened to have the perfect playlist!

Well, he actually spent a whole night calculating and putting together a playlist for the two of you. Just to make sure that the time you spent together is perfect!

A huge sigh escapes your lips as you push back your chair and spin a few times, hoping for your tired brain to reset.

“God, I’m so done with this. Nothing! NOTHING! I can’t find a single thing!” you say unintentionally loud. Donnie thinks about a way to console you, but feels the same. He’s tired and exhausted, barely got any sleep or went outside. His brothers, April and Casey have taken over patrol, giving him and you time to work on the stolen files. 

“How’s your progress?” you ask, stopping your chair from spinning and looking past the computers blocking your view from your friend.

“Extremely slow, but at least something…” He sighs, “Oh who am I kidding! I've run into a dead end two hours ago!”

He lays his head on the table in frustration. 

You take a deep breath, smelling the comforting autumn night air. The thought of taking a break outside, underneath the stars, pulls your glance towards the huge barn doors. The dim light of the old oil lamp beside you is spilling out the small gap between the doors, just like you wish you could.

Donnie notices your dreamy stare towards the wooden exit, thinking of something to say. For a moment, he dares to let his fantasies drift away from work. His little daydream trails off to laying in the grass with you, watching the stars, sharing earphones… listening to you humming to your favourite songs… your hands getting closer…

“I think I’ll go outside for a moment,” he says without thinking and stands up, turning away from you as his face heats up. He’s not sure if he needs a moment alone or hopes for you to follow him into the night, but when he hears you asking “Mind if I join?” and his heart skips a beat, all his questions seem answered.

“I’d never mind,” he says unusually confidently, all the hard work might just have turned off his anxiety for a moment.

You stand up and walk to him, he waits patiently for you to catch up. The warm but refreshing early autumn night air hugs you loosely as Donnie pushes open the doors, gesturing for you to go out first. A slight breeze dances past your bright face, making you forget about your worries for a bit. You catch Donnie’s glance and without words, both of you lead each other away from the house. As you glance inside, you see shadows walk past the curtains in the lit up windows, signalling you that your friends are done with work and exercise, calling it a day as well. 

The small hill beside the farm is basically calling your names as you wander through the dark, nothing but the moon and the house lightning up your path. But with Donnie by your side, not even walking through the dark forest scares you.

With a content sigh, you let yourself plop down into the lush grass at the top of the hill. It’s slightly damp, but not enough to bother you. Nor Donnie apparently, as he sits down right beside you. For a second, your knees touch but he pulls his leg away, making the spot feel colder than before.

Donnie's heart races as the current situation gets way too close to his little daydream from before. But something in him wants to see how far he can go, he wants to test if his dream can become reality.

You lay down in the grass, your neck hurting from looking up into the sky for the past few minutes. The turtle beside you pulls out his phone and earbuds, plugging them in and handing one to you. Smiling up at him, you carefully take it from his hand and put it into your ear, Donnie mirroring your actions before laying down beside you.

Your shoulders almost touch. Almost.

The song from before continues playing, but fairly quiet this time. You can still hear a few grasshoppers chirping, the wind rustling through the tree’s crowns and dare you say, even Donnie’s calm breathing.

You start humming again, tracing star constellations with your fingers in the sky. 

“Cassiopeia,” you mumble fondly, happy to find constellation after constellation in the clear sky, “and Hercules.” Your finger swiftly glides over to the ancient hero.

The next song starts, another one of your favourites. Either Don happens to have the same music taste as you or knows you too well, you think to yourself.

“Did you know, Hercules’ brightest star is Kornephoros,” he says quickly. You turn your head over to him, grinning.

“Smart as always, how do you just know that kinda stuff?”

He only shrugs, grinning back at you.

Unknowingly, both of you happen to glance down at your hands at the same time, and as you see how close they are, the same thought comes to your minds.

Neither of you act on it though.

To be honest, you didn’t even think you felt something for the boy. But now you lay here in the grass with him and suddenly you yearn nothing more than his touch. You want the spot on your knee to be warm and tingly again, his hand on your cold fingers, laying shoulder to shoulder.

“It’s been a while since I’ve seen such a beautiful night sky,” you break the silence.

“The city’s light pollution is awful,” he mentions, averting his gaze from you to the cloudless sky, “back here, you can see more stars that you could count.”

Ever so slightly, you move your hands closer to one another.

While you’re questioning your feelings, Donnie’s got it all figured out. He fell first, long ago. 

“The Pegasus,” you say as you accidentally point up with the hand that was right beside Donnie’s. You drop it again, cursing yourself for pulling it away. But your hand happens to fall right on top of his. Embarrassed, you pull away. God, you feel like some little kid right now, blushing over accidentally touching someone's hand.

Donnie’s heart seemed to explode for a second when you let your hand fall onto his. Was it an accident? Did you plan this? Why did you pull away? Was it weird that he didn’t pull away? 

All these questions, but there's one thing that he’s sure about: that has to happen again. And for once, this desire pushes his anxiety away and he reaches over and grabs your hand. 

From the corner of his eye he sees you turning to him, but you didn’t pull away. He’s too scared to look you in the eyes, terrified of being met with a face of disgust. 

His worries disappear though, as you turn around your hand in his grasp and intertwine your fingers. He glances at you, both your faces looking equally surprised.

Another song you love comes on, but by now you don’t even pay attention to it.

#fanfiction #tmnt #tmnt2012 #Donatello #Donatello 2012 #Donatello x reader #donnie x reader #donnie 2012 x reader

[int-writersmind]

Songbird & Spider

Peter Parker x f!Reader

You're Peter Parker's neighbor, an aspiring songwriter who can't help but play your work-in progresses out loud, and Peter can't help but overhear.

Word Count: 1.3k

Fluff

~

The first thing Peter remembered about you was that song you played outside your window one early morning. You were sitting on the windowsill, one leg inside your apartment the other resting on the fire escape. Your eyes were closed as you strummed along to a jazzy little tune on your guitar, half singing the words, half mumbling along. Peter was coming home from a late night patrolling the city, he was going to go through his window since it was still so early, but settle for the roof so as to not disturb your singing.

The two of you almost stumble into one another when you exit your apartment and as he enters his, damn New York City apartments and its tight hallways.

“Late night?” You say.

Peter shrugs and says, “Early Morning?”

“Yeah, I picked up an opening shift.” You turn and lock your door, giving a quick goodbye. “See ya.”

Peter watches you as you hurry down the stairs.

Later that day, after a few hours of sleep, Peter decides to take to the skies of the city as Spider-Man, just swinging by and keeping an eye on things. Unknowingly he passed by the little diner you worked at in the morning. He only knew since he ran into you one day when coming back home, you in your bright diner outfit you tried to hide with your jacket. He couldn’t help but hang back for a minute, seeing you inside. Watching you attend some tables, a smile on your face as you held a serving tray with multiple plates. You had a natural aura that made people drawn to you. You liked the attention, but not in a self-centered kind of way, but in the way that showed that you were meant to be a performer. 

Another day, when Peter was catching up with his dirty dishes, he heard you from the other side of the apartment’s thin walls. You were stomping your way, mostly likely back from a long shift, since the sun was currently going down. Peter couldn’t help but open his window as he had a feeling that’s where he’ll find you. 

And there you were, still in uniform, sitting on the fire escape, guitar in hand, book off to the side. “Trying to catch a sneak peek?” You say, eyes still closed.

Busted for his peering, Peter just nervously glances around before just resolving to the situation and steadying himself on the fire escape. “Just getting some air.”

“Hmm, sure” You smile at him, peeking with one eye before going back to strumming. “Had an idea on the way back from work, I didn't want to forget.”

“I’ll leave if you want, you know, if you want to be alone.” Peter stumbles out.

“What kind of performer would I be if I shooed off an audience,” You stop playing for a moment to write something in your notebook.”Even an audience of one.”

“Now I feel kind of special.”

You smile back at him, before readjusting your guitar and clearing your throat. “Can I play you something?”

“Uh…I’d be honored” 

You nod before you strum the guitar, playing a few chords that reminded Peter of a jazzy type of beat. When the words came, your voice was low, rich and just a tad husky, dragging some notes to the melody of the song. 

Peter was starting to get into the music when suddenly you stopped short. “That’s all I got so far, I’m sure the rest will come. Thanks for listening.”

“Anytime.”

You check your watch, silently cursing to yourself before turning back to Peter, “Anytime huh? Well I play at the club around the corner from here most nights. Maybe I’ll see ya.”

You go back inside your apartment, leaving Peter alone with an open invitation and his thoughts. 

Peter did visit the club, kinda, except from the outside and not as Peter Parker. It was about a week later, he came around after a run in with the Shocker left him itching for something less jolt-y. But there you were inside the club, he made your voice out from the open windows and door. He recognized some of the songs that you played, many jazzy interpretations of modern pop songs. Unknowingly, he had stayed for your whole set as he watched you walk out of the club's door by yourself, guitar case strapped to your back. 

He kept an eye on you, promising himself that he’ll only see you home. He swung from building to building, making sure you didn’t leave his sights. There were a couple of run-ins that he thought might escalate into something, like bumping into the shoulder of a partially grumpy passerby or a group of shady individuals that gave you a second glance. But none of that phased you, you weren’t delusion or even naive. You were confident and that confidence radiated off of you that signaled to others that you weren’t just anybody to mess with.

As soon as you made it to the apartment building, Peter decided that you were safe enough to not have some spandex wearing hero watching over you, even if that was a gross oversimplification of the materials of his suit.

It was until a few hours later, with the sun starting to pierce the sky, Peter decided to return back home. He landed on the far side of the apartment’s roof, on the other side of the door that led to the actual apartments themselves. As he was changing back into more Peter appropriate clothing when he noticed a familiar tune. The same tune he heard that early, rainy morning, the same tune as the day you caught him listening. He peered around, trying his best to not to alert you of his presence, leaning against the outside door to hear the song to completion. 

The song was a mix between something jazzy and something folky, for lack of better words. It seemed to be a story of a stranger who has strange hours and does strange activities. The stranger helped those who needed it without asking for anything in return. The stranger was known to all but no one knew the stranger, not truly it seemed. It ended on a mystery, with you no longer singing and just carrying on the instrumental from the verses.

“Just as good as last time.” You say out loud.

Peter was perplexed, “How did you-”

“I’m a musician,” You simply state. “I have great ears. And you’re not as quiet as you think you are.”

You turn around, still continuing to play, as Peter asks, “So, who’s the Stranger in the song?”

“Hmm,” You think it over, “A neighbor of mine.”

“Do I know them?”

“I think the two of you are well acquainted.” 

“Really?” Peter tries to rack his mind, who could this neighbor be?

“This neighbor of ours…it is actually quite famous. Locally famous, but I think news travels far.”

“Huh…I think I’m stumped.” You turn around in a lazy circle, slowing down your playing, but not stopping. “This neighbor likes to frequent the roof but sometimes, when he thinks everyone's asleep or no one’s watching, likes to go through windows.”

Peter tries, and fails, to hide his stunned look. “Ummm, I–”

“The apartment has dreadfully thin walls,” You walk closer to Peter, dipping your head close to his, “And our fire escapes are awfully close to each other. But don't worry stranger, your secret is safe with me.”

You give the guitar one sharp little strum before moving it away from your body. You lean against the edge of the roof, glancing over at the city surrounding you.

“So will this stranger make any more appearances in your songs?

“I say so,” You grin, “He’s much too interesting, but I would prefer to get to know him a little more.”

“Do you?” Peter moves in close to you, placing his hands on the edge of the roof, staring at you as you bring your attention back to him.

“Why don’t you come back to my apartment so I can play you some more songs, over a couple of drinks?”

~

Thanks for reading, comment if you like, it would be greatly appreciated and look out for Part 1 of my Christmas Peter Parker x Reader series starting this Sunday! Bye

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