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li0nn3stuff · 3 days

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Kiddo

Chapter one

Kiddo masterlist

English is not my first language, be kind.

Modern!Older!Aemond x Modern!Younger!Reader

•Chapter warnings: beginning of the obsession•

As Aemond sat at the bar during his lunch break, his colleagues from the bank company gathered around him, chatting and laughing.

It was a family company, but nothing was given off out of nepotism. He had earned it. And he earned it fucking wonderfully.

He had studied in the best schools, yes, but he had been dedicated as no one could.

His father took him to work there when he was twenty-two, then he took his degree.

He worked wonders in the company, success after success. Not that his father ever applauded him anything. It was just his job to be a good employee.

He acknowledged his success, that he did. That was the reason why when his father started to get seriously sick, he named Aemond his successor.

Because he was fucking good at what he did.

Then, it happened. His father died, and the company fell into his hands.

CEO at thirty years old.

These types of bar were not something Aemond usually frequented. He likes places more… quiet, personal. He only came because his colleagues, or well, his employees suggested it with enthusiasm.

“Keep good relationships. You have to be present in the company, for them to trust and respect you. They’ll see how much you work and they’ll never doubt a word of yours.”

Despite the jovial atmosphere, Aemond remained aloof, his icy demeanor never faltering.

"So, Aemond, how's the Martel project coming along?" asked Marcus, a fellow executive, taking a sip of his drink.

Aemond shrugged nonchalantly. "It's progressing as expected." he replied in his usual monotone voice. "Nothing worth getting excited about."

Marcus chuckled. "Always the stoic one, aren't you? You should loosen up a bit, enjoy the small victories."

Aemond raised an eyebrow. "I'll leave the celebrations to those who find them worthwhile." He said curtly.

Across the table, Emily, another colleague, leaned in with a playful smirk. "Come on, Aemond, don't tell me you're immune to the charms of success." She teased, her eyes twinkling mischievously.

Aemond's lips curled into a slight smirk, the closest thing to a smile he ever showed. "Success is fleeting," He replied cryptically. "I prefer to focus on the long game."

The conversation continued, with Aemond contributing sparingly, his responses always measured and guarded. He listened intently to his colleagues' chatter, but there was a distance in his eyes, as if he were observing from afar rather than fully engaging.

Despite his detached demeanor, there was an undeniable aura of authority and confidence that surrounded Aemond. He commanded respect without ever having to demand it, his presence alone enough to make those around him sit up a little straighter.

“Aspect, composure, and attitude are the key.”

As the conversation turned to other topics, Aemond remained in his own world, a silent observer amidst the lively banter of his colleagues. For him, the bar was just another backdrop in the intricate dance of corporate life, a place where he could observe and strategize, always one step ahead of the game.

As he perused the menu of the pub, a sense of disappointment washed over him. The offerings seemed basic and uninspired compared to the elegant plates he was accustomed to in high-end restaurants.

As he reluctantly considered his options, he couldn't help but long for the sophistication and refinement of the restaurants he frequented. The thought of settling for a mediocre meal in a dingy pub left a bitter taste in his mouth.

He ordered a basic plate of pasta, hoping it wouldn’t suck too much.

He glanced around the bustling pub, filled with lively conversations and clinking glasses, he thought that perhaps there was more to the dining experience than just the food itself. Maybe, just maybe, he could find enjoyment in the simple pleasures of good company and convivial atmosphere, even if the cuisine didn't quite meet his lofty standards.

He looked at his employees around the table.

What a lie.

He liked being alone, he liked to stay away from people.

He sighed silently and scanned the pub, people standing or sitting everywhere, with a beer in their hands, laughing out loud, it almost gave him a headache. He drifted his gaze to a group of young girls that just walked inside. They were laughing in such a high pitched tone it was so annoying. They were all dressed too provocative for their age, probably hoping to look older in order to buy some alcohol.

Stupid kids.

They could barely walk on those heels, they looked horrendous, even if they acted like they were on top of the world. One of the group of girls looked at him and she immediately straightened up her composure, trying to evidence her curves.

Aemond felt like throwing up.

The girl laughed when he averted his gaze for a minute, looking behind her. He followed her gaze, and he saw her, a couple of steps behind the whole group, there was another girl, dressed in a skirt long to her knee, and a cardigan. There weren’t heels at her feet but old stan smith, she wasn’t wearing much makeup, just some mascara and gloss on her lips, that made them sparkle under the light, making them look soft, plumb, ready to be bitten.

Her hair tied up in a half ponytail, her hair coming down in soft waves. She clinged to her backpack strap like it was her life savior. She must have been… sixteen? Maybe seventeen, and she looked like it, despite her friends. Her friends only looked ridiculous.

She walked in a shy demeanor, her legs almost shining over the light that came from the door of the pub. Her thighs swayed one against each other, making all of her skin move in waves. They looked so soft, the perfect shape to grab them tightly and-

“Here’s your pasta.” The waitress said to him, as she placed the plate in front of him. He hummed and nodded, as she gave him a smirk and went away. He didn’t even bother to look at the waitress' body as she walked away. He went back to the little girl, but he found her looking back at him.

She softly, gently smiled at him, shyly.

She smiled.

Aemond didn’t smile back, and she immediately looked away, running to her friends. Her breasts jumped up and down at every step she took towards the bar, her hair moving around her face.

She was beautiful. Perfect.

He coughed and finally looked away from her. He felt like she put a spell on him. He felt drawn to her.

God he looked like a pervert.

The girl was only sixteen, half his age.

What the fuck was wrong with him?!

He groaned and rubbed his temple, looking down at his plate, grabbing the fork and taking a bite.

Tasteless. Fucking tasteless.

“Marcus, stop staring at them, they could be your daughters!” He heard one of his employees say, laughing. Aemond immediately looked at him… Kyle? Then at Marcus, seeing him looking at the group of girls he saw before.

Don’t you dare look at her.

Marcus looked up and down the girls, smirking to his colleague.

“You can look at those, I don’t even know what the other girl is.” He laughed.

Don't talk about her.

Aemond clenched his hand on the fork, as both Marcys and Kyle turned to look at the girls again, drawing the attention of other colleagues as well. Aemond took a deep breath, closing his eye and leaning his head down.

I will kill you.

“Marcus, I heard the Lannister complaining about some work that has been done for them.” Aemond spoke, raising his glance at him, as he sat comfortably back on the chair.

The most uncomfortable chair he has ever sat on.

Marcus looks at him, surprised, and he immediately lowers his eyes.

“Uhm… yeah, they’re not really good at explaining what they want, you know? I made some mistakes, but I immediately fixed them when they noticed.”

“Mistakes?” He questioned further, taking another bite of his pasta, leaning back forward.

“Yeah, but nothing serious… Everything's alright now.” Marcus quickly added.

“Mh.” He only answered. He looked down at his silverwares, and he noticed the spoon was dirty.

Disgusting.

He sighed and looked towards the bar. The girls were still there. His girl was looking around the pub, her mind obviously somewhere else from her friend's conversation.

He shouldn’t do it.

He got up, excusing himself cordially to his employees, and walked away from his table.

He really shouldn’t.

He approached the bar, standing beside his girl. Her friends were giggling closed in a circle, she was more outside of it.

Were they really her friends?

Why the fuck did he care?

He twirled the spoon between his fingers, looking ahead of him as he waited for someone of the pub’s staff to consider him. Still he kept his ears well open.

“Y/N you should do it too!” One of the friends exclaimed, laughing. His girl looked at her, confused, but with a gentle face.

Y/N. He liked her name.

“What should I do?” She asked softly.

Her voice.

God, her voice.

Sweet, caring, gentle.

“Sammi maid. To earn some money, you need it, don’t you?” Her friend chuckled.

Bitch.

Aemond felt his anger rise in a second. They couldn’t be her friends. No. His girl tilted her head, confused.

“What is a Sammi maid?” She asked, so innocently. All of the girls laughed.

“Just… a maid. They just pay them more.” One of the girls explains.

Don’t.

“Might think about it, thank you.” His girl answered. She sounded embarrassed, her soft cheeks were probably red.

Don’t.

Aemond sighed and moved away, as finally, he saw a bartender coming to him.

“This spoon is dirty… and I know those girls are underage.” He handed the spoon and pointed at the group of girls, who were just asking for beers to another barman.

“Thank you, sir.” The barman took the spoon, and as he went to change it he whispered something to the other barman.

He saw the pissed expression of those girls and how they acted all offended. They quickly started to walk away but his girl was confused.

“I… I haven’t finished my cola…” She said weakly. One of the girls rolled her eyes at her.

“Whatever, Y/N stay here then.” She said, and all the group left. His girl was just staring at them surprised, as she stood there, alone.

He felt bad for her.

He wanted to hug her, console her. Kiss her.

What. The fuck. Was wrong. With. Him?!

He wanted her for himself. Never let anyone else touch her, speak to her, see her. He wanted her to be a prisoner in his arms. Why was he being so affectionate towards this girl? She was nothing he hadn't seen before. Yet he found himself rubbing his fingertips together, wanting to touch her, in any way she would let him.

“Here.” The bartender gave him back another spoon. He nodded and took it, so he turned to walk away, when he saw a necklace on the floor, next to her feet. He bent down, as she turned to him, surprised to see someone so close to her. Aemond stood up in front of her.

She was short. Shorter than him.

Her head was barely at the level of his shoulders. She looked at him, always gentle, soft, a hint of a smile on her face.

Her perfume. Sweet. Vanilla.

Her big eyes were staring at him. She looked so innocent.

He raised his hand with a necklace so she could see it. Her eyes sparkled when she noticed the necklace. She smiled broadly, and grabbed the necklace, putting her other hand over his.

“Thank you so much! I didn’t even notice it fell from my neck.” She looked at him, grateful. Aemond nodded back, even if his mind was trying to perfectly memorize the feeling of her touch. He looked at her hand, over his, her thumb moving slightly, as if to caress him.

He was a stranger to her, why was she being so nice and friendly? Was she like this with everyone?

He hoped not.

“Have a good day.” He said, nodding, turning to walk away, but she quickly put her hand in his arm, stopping him on track.

He had to put distance.

She had to stay away from him.

He didn’t know what was happening to him.

“Sorry… Would you mind helping me put the necklace on?” She smiled softly, her expression a mixture of hope and worry, she didn’t want to bother him. He shook his head and turned back towards her, as she gave him her back, giving him the necklace. He quickly puts it on her, and she immediately turns back to face him, smiling.

“Thank you. Again.” She chuckled. Aemond felt like smiling at her.

He didn’t.

He gave her another nod, as he walked away, back to his table.

Somehow, none of his employees seemed to have seen his interaction with his girl, and he was thankful for it. Especially because of how he felt his cock stiffen at the mere memory of her touch

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fauxdette · 3 days

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Gwynriels: The books speak for themselves.

The books: "Would you like me to show you the garden?" • But Elain did not balk from him, did not shy away • “Beautiful." • Color bloomed high on Azriel's golden-brown cheeks, but he inclined his head in thanks and led my sister toward the back doors into the garden, sunlight bathing them. • "I can help her," said Azriel, stepping to the table as Elain silently rose. • "She doesn't need anything" • It made sense, I supposed, that Azriel alone had listened to her. • But Azriel asked softly, "What about Elain?" • "I'm getting her back." Nesta slid her gaze to the shadowsinger. Azriel's hazel eyes glowed golden in the shadows. Nesta said, "Then you will die." Azriel only repeated, rage glazing that stare, "I'm getting her back." • "Are you hurt?" •

"You came for me." • Azriel still cradling Elain to his chest. He dripped blood behind him the entire time • "We need Helion to get these chains off her." • Yet Elain didn't seem to notice them as she rose up on her toes and kissed the shadowsinger's cheek. • "This is Truth-Teller," he told her softly. "I won't be using it today—so I want you to." • I have never once seen Azriel let another person touch that knife. • Light and dark, the space between their bodies a blend of the two. • "He is Elain's mate." I waited. "It would be an invasion of her privacy to track him." • "If Lucien kills Graysen, then good riddance." • "Are we supposed to get the sisters presents?" • I felt, more than saw, my sister go still as he approached. Her throat bobbed. • "Sit. I'll take care of it." • "Wait until everyone is seated before eating." • I made to move toward her, but someone beat me to it. • "Oh, that's from me." • Elain smiled again, ducking her head. Azriel mastered himself enough to say, "Thank you." • Azriel and Elain remained in the sitting room, my sister showing him the plans she'd sketched to expand the garden in the back of the town house • "Because of the shit with Elain?" Azriel stilled. "What happened to Elain?" • No one spoke, though shadows gathered in the corners of the room, like snakes preparing to strike. • "I know. I helped rescue Elain, after all." • Azriel stiffened, an outright sign of temper from him as he said quietly, "There is an innate darkness to the Dread Trove that Elain should not be exposed to." • Azriel stood in the doorway, monitoring them. As if he'd heard Elain's sharp laugh and wondered what had caused it. • Then his gaze shifted to Elain, and though it was utterly neutral, something charged went through it. Between them. • A pretty lie. She'd seen Azriel before the fire plenty. But she looked at who sat close to it and knew the answer. • Because her mate had been in the family room and Azriel had needed to stay by the door the whole time because he couldn't stand the sight of it, the scent of their mating bond • Letting his scarred fingers touch her immaculate skin. • It had never gone this far. They'd exchanged looks, the occasional brush of their fingers, but never this. Never blatant, unrestricted touching. • He needed to know what the skin of her neck tasted like. What those perfect lips tasted like. Her breasts. Her sex. He needed her coming on his tongue -- • How that beautiful face might appear as he entered her, what sounds she'd make. • Elain bit her lower lip, and it took every ounce of Azriel's restraint to keep from putting his own teeth there. • Her arousal drifted up to him, and his eyes nearly rolled back in his head at the sweet scent. He'd beg on his knees for a chance to taste it. • Just this taste in the dead of the longest night of the year, where only the Mother might witness them. • Tilting her face the way he wanted it. • Offer and permission • "You can't order me to do that."

#elriel

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l0vergirlwrites · 2 days

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gulity as sin ; eddie munson

synopsis: since eddie joined your friend group, you’ve fallen for him. but sometimes the feelings you’ve harboured for him make you feel guilty—but he’s just too dreamy, so how could anyone blame you?

warnings: sexual innuendos, mentions of weed & alcohol & partying, mentions of sexual thoughts, downbad!reader & eddie, love confession & makeout!!!!

note: i just had to get this out of my system but i’ll write my next ttpd fic based on the winning things on the polls don’t worry!!

“just so you know, you’re staring at eddie like you wanna fuck him” robin whispered in your ear as she came to your side with extra vcr tapes to stack near the back of the store.

“jesus! am i really?” you asked in a hushed whisper, face crowing warm with embarrassment. you couldn’t help it when eddie just looked so good as he leaned on the front counter talking to steve.

while you mentally face palmed yourself, robin gave your shoulder a reassuring squeeze. “just a little bit”

peeking back over her shoulder at eddie to make sure he wasn’t looking at you (because you’re anxious & paranoid), you let out a breath of relief. “you think he noticed?”

she laughed “i hope not”

letting out a quiet gasp, you shoved robin’s shoulder “thanks for the vote of confidence, rob” you said sarcastically.

“i’m sorry, i’m sorry!—but seriously…” she paused for moment to create dramatic effect. “when are you gonna fess up & tell him how you feel?”

the big question.

with a big sigh, you shook your head in retreat. “probably never. it’s just some stupid crush—& besides, we’re just friends. i don’t know if he’d like me like that, rob.” you said while getting back to work, trying to get the image of eddie’s ring clad hands out of your mind so you could focus.

“is that really how you feel? or is your fear of rejection speaking for you?”

narrowing your eyes at her, you rolled your eyes knowing she was kidding (but was she? were you really hiding behind a guise so you wouldn’t get hurt?).

“you know,” she paused to look at eddie. “if he doesn’t want to jump your bones, i’d be floored” she said cheekily, causing you to nudge her rib cage.

“he doesn’t” you stated, but in your mind you hated the thought of it.

“if that’s what’ll help you sleep at night” she chided before moving onto a different shelf, the open space letting your eyes drift back to eddie, only to find that he was looking right at you.

“you coming to the party by reefer rick’s place on the weekend? i convinced stevie boy here to tag along—“

“—& to be the DD. i don’t know how i got roped into this” steve cut eddie off with an exasperated expression.

with the spotlight (eddie’s eyes) on you, you couldn’t help but feel stuck in place & your mind was running a million miles a minute.

clearing your throat, you nodded. “yeah sure! i should be able to if keith doesn’t make me come in last minute”

the last sentence caused eddie to roll his eyes.

“who cares about what keith says—you’re coming & you’re gonna have fun! you’re deserving of blowing off some steam, right?” eddie said convincingly.

“he’s right! fuck keith & his stupid last minute shift calls“ robin agreed with steve soon following suit.

jokingly with your hands up in surrender, you finally agreed. “maybe you guys are right…”

“of course we are, babe!”

the pet name eddie called you made your stomach flip in six directions, your face growing warm until steve beat you to speak.

“when the hell did ‘babe’ get into your vocabulary, munson?” he asked eddie with a quizzical eye.

“oh calm your tits harrington—“

“hey man, i don’t have tits & i am calm so shut—“

“hey!” you yelled, shutting them both up. “no bickering on my watch, idiots” you pointed to them both, causing eddie to place his right hand in his heart in apology.

“what do you expect,” robin chimed in. “they’re five year olds”

you both laughed a bit at her comment while the guys just rolled their eyes.

“well, i’m gonna head out & prep for my next campaign. butttt, i’ll see you geeks saturday?” he asked while twirling his van keys around his index finger.

before steve could try to rebuttle against eddie about him calling you all “geeks”, you beat him to it.

“yes—we’ll be there! bye eds” you waved sweetly, your hand flattering when eddie shot you a wink before heading out the door.

as the glass door chimed & shut after his departure, you immediately turned to robin.

“he winked at me!” you mouthed to her with excitement.

“are you guys secretly talking without including me, again?”

turning to steve, you gave him an apologetic look. “she was just fawning over how eddie winked at her” robin said with a nonchalant smile, causing you to gasp.

“robin—“

“why do you care if he—wait… ohhh… that makes sense” he lit up like a light bulb, going back to checking through the return log on the computer.

you stood there stumped at his reaction.

“is me liking eddie predictable?” you asked aloud, causing steve & robin to share a glance.

“yes” they said collectively, leaving you to sigh & turn back to the shelf to finish stacking the pile of tapes.

**~*~**~*~*~**~*~~*~**~*~*~~***~*

it was now saturday, & you were on speaker phone with robin as you were getting ready for the party.

you had decided to wear a short flowy black skirt, fishnet tights, your favourite black boots, & a dark green babytee with your favourite band on it. it was simple, but cute (& you secretly hoped eddie would think the tights were a nice touch).

“do you think you’ll tell eddie how you feel once you get some liquid courage in you?” she asked genuinely.

with a thoughtful sigh, you stopped applying blush to your right cheek. “gosh, rob—i don’t know. i don’t think it’s a good idea”.

you could tell she was shaking her head from the other side of the phone.

“remember when i was too afraid to tell vicky i liked her?”

you knew what she was gonna say. “yes, i do”

“so, you remember how you told me i should just ‘go for it! do it before it’s too late—what’s the worst that could happen?’, right?”

you slumped in your desk chair, fidgeting with your makeup brush. “yes…”

“sooo, you gotta practice what you preach—tell him before you regret it!” she encouraged, but still, you were horrified to.

“what if—“

she shushed you. “no what ifs. don’t do that to yourself—just be honest when the right moment comes along”

staying silent for a moment, you thought it over in your head before coming to a conclusion.

“maybe you are right, robin”

“i’m always right—regardless of what steve says” her words made you laugh, relieving you of a little stress.

**~*~*~~~*~***~*~**~**~*~*~~*

it was now nine-thirty on the dot & you could hear steve’s beamer honking from your driveway, signalling that it’s time to go. as soon as you stepped onto your driveway, you were met with hollers & whistles from your friends in the car—including eddie.

as soon as you saw him with his head out the window, whistling & vocally saying “shit y/n, looking good!”, you could’ve sworn you were going to collapse then & there.

shushing them before their hyper annoyed your neighbours, you (coincidentally) got into the backseat with eddie.

“you have everything?” steve asked before reversing the car.

“yes, dad” you joked before a silver flask was shoved into your lap.

“got you your favourite” eddie told you with a smile, causing you to audibly “awe” & thank him before taking a swing from it.

despite steve having a fancy car, the backseat was surprisingly small, so you knew it was going to be a long night with how your thigh is already pressed into eddie’s & his fingers were tapping his jean clad thigh dangerously close to your exposed one.

you caught him every now & then staring at your tights too, which didn’t help the fantasies brewing in your mind of him taking them off you.

“you excited?” you asked him while steve & robin were caught in their own conversation.

swiping his tongue across his teeth, he looked at you with a gaze that made your stomach tighten. “as long as you stick close by, then yeah i’m excited” he nudged you gently, allowing you a moment to process what he just fucking said.

tucking your hair behind your ears (a sign that you were nervous & liked him & were going insane), you let the conversation drift into comfortable silence as steve turned the radio up.

thank god for that.

**~*~~**~**~***~**~*~~**~**~*

the party eddie brought you guys to was packed at some random house on lover’s lake.

& it reeked of pot & beer, which was normal & expected.

with the flask eddie gave you in your right hand & eddie’s hand in your other (because the front lawn was packed & he didn’t want to lose you), your group maneuvered your way inside to disco party lights, sweaty bodies, more pot & more beer.

your grip on eddie’s hand was taut as you continued sliding past more & more people while muttering “excuse me, sorry!” over & over until you guys arrived on the dance floor.

“do you want anything?” eddie leaned down & whispered into your ear so you could hear over the music.

you took a second to answer because of how warm his breath felt against your skin. “no i’m okay, i got this remember?” you said with a smile, holding up the flask he gave you.

returning you a smile, eddie let go of your hand because robin was pulling you to dance a little.

“be back in five!” eddie mouthed to you, holding up five fingers & looking at you until you waved in acknowledgment.

“okay there’s no way he doesn’t want you” robin yelled into your ear as the song changed & people roared happily.

laughing & shaking your head, you disagreed.

“cmon! let’s just dance, yeah? destress!” steve yelled to you both before bopping his head to the music, causing you & robin to look at each other before laughing & join in.

the more songs played & the more you swing back eddie’s flask, you could feel yourself letting loose a little—possibly even making you feel courageous.

so much so that when eddie returned with a red solo cup with some sort of drink, you slung your arm around his middle for a quick hug.

“missed me?” he yelled in your ear.

“just maybe” you replied, feeling his right hand rub your arm up & down before fetching a joint from his pocket.

“missed me more now?” he asked again, laughing when you nodded your head, eyes glassy from the smoke in the room that was building.

“outside?” he yelled again, & you were the only one that agreed.

*~*~*~~*~~*~*~~**~***~*

departing from steve & robin to go smoke, eddie grabbed your hand once again & kept you close as you both made your way to the back porch that outlooked onto the water.

the backyard was still filled with people, especially jocks who were doing dumb keg games, but you didn’t mind. with your back against the siding of the house & eddie in front of you, caging you in, all you saw was him.

& god he looked hot. his hair was a bit frizzy, but his leather jacket managed to showcase his muscular arms & his slightly cropped band tee allowed you to see the happy trail on his abdomen.

it took everything in your power not to fold then & there.

“you want the first hit?” eddie asked as passed you his drink & pulled his lighter out of his pocket.

with a simple nod, you placed the joint between your lipstick covered lips & leaned forward for eddie to light the end of it for you. the action felt extremely intimate & already hand your skin tingling.

with the joint slotted between your fingers, you took a few hits & relished in the buzzed feeling it already gave you. & knowing eddie & is interest in pot, you knew whatever was wrapped within the joint was the good shit.

while you were taking your hits, eddie was reminding himself to not get hard at the thought of your lipstick rubbing off onto the joint or how you looked pretty with smoke exhaling from your mouth—he could feel his pants start to feel the tiniest bit tight at his view of you.

when you handed the joint to him, eddie stood beside you on the wall & took his time (possibly so you could look at him a little longer?).

& you didn’t care because he just looked too perfect with his head tilted up, the veins in his neck showing in the porch light, the joint rested between his ring clad fingers—you could already imagine yourself getting off to this image of him later—but you reminded yourself to stay cool.

everything was fine! you guys were just friends!

“you feeling okay?” eddie asked, turning to you who was already giving him soft doe eyes.

“better than okay” you smiled, leaning your head against his shoulder because you felt too warm under his gaze.

“wanna get off inside?” you heard him ask, causing you to cough & blink for a moment.

“shit—what did you say?” you looked at him, feeling his hand begin to interlock with yours again.

“i asked if you wanna go back inside—you sure you’re good?”

oh god, now you were hearing things.

“y-yeah, good idea” you mumbled as you followed his lead, holding on tight to avoid getting broken apart through the sea of teenagers & college students.

you only broke apart when robin pulled you in for a hug, hearing her say “it felt like you were gone for ages!”

for the rest do the night, you told yourself to he lost in the music rather than thoughts of eddie munson doing nasty things to you, which was going pretty successful until you felt his breath on your neck again.

“wanna dance?”

& how on earth could you say no?!?!

you let him pull you into his arms, his hands firm on your waist while yours were loose around his neck.

with the pot & other alcohol mixing in your system, you felt on top of the world. especially with eddie’s eyes on you. he’d twirl you around in circles & give you room to dance your heart out with him in your grasp & steve & robin would give each other knowing glances about whatever was brewing between you too.

you felt hot, sticky, & tingly all over your skin (not just because eddie was touching you) so you pulled his head down a bit to yell in his ear. “i’m gonna find a washroom!” & he was leading you around the house to find one without a question.

once you both found one of the third floor of this outrageous house, you pulled eddie in with you & turned on the light, thankful there was a dim setting.

“jesus, that was bright!” eddie shielded his eyes, causing you to laugh as you hopped up onto the counter.

exhaling a sigh of relief, you let your head lean back & rest against the mirror while eddie leaned against the closed door.

“do you need me to like, turn around or something…?” he asked, wondering what you were going to do.

“no—i just wanted to go somewhere quieter. less sweaty bodies”

he nodded understandingly before shamefully looking you up & down, telling himself to not get hard at the sight of you so pretty. you were already falling down a rabbit hole of all the things you want to do with him right now, each more dirty than the next—it would be just so easy for him to take off your skirt & unbuckle his pants—wouldn’t it?

but the guilt started to seep in & make you hide your face to groan in annoyance because why on earth were you spiralling like this?

“is something wrong?” he walked to you, holding your wrists & pulling them away to uncover you.

“just going insane is all” you replied, causing you both to laugh until he reached up to wipe off some of your smudged eyeliner from your under eye. he just needed to touch you somehow.

“guess what an old friend told me while i was getting a drink earlier”

you tilted your head in wonder, staring directly at eddie’s lips as he spoke.

“he saw us walk inside & told me that we looked like some couple from a movie—don’t remember which one though…” he ended with a murmur, too focussed on swiping his thumb on your cheek until you spoke up.

“is that a bad thing?” you asked, suddenly feeling small in this washroom with his hand directly on your skin.

eddie was closing in on you now, & you didn’t want it to stop.

you instantly felt sober now. especially with how each swipe on your skin felt like he was making you his—which was definitely an exaggeration but how could you need feel that way when he was holding you so delicately?

shaking his head ‘no’, eddie’s brows furrowed. “of course not—it’s not a bad thing. i-i just thought it was, i dunno, cute—“

“cute?” you questioned softer than him, a smile in the beginning stages of forming on your face.

was this your moment that robin was talking about? you sure hoped so.

“i-i think that’s the right word” he stumbled over his words, feeling your right hand brush some hair out of his face.

“i think so too”

& then there was comfortable silence.

you weren’t sure how to move forward from here. do you tell him all your feelings for him that you’ve keep hidden in a vault at the back of your mind? do you tell him that you’ve been fantasizing about him for weeks? that he’s the only one that makes you feel so many things?

you wish this part was easier.

“would it be, i dunno, uncalled for if i told you that you’ve been driving me crazy?” eddie asked, immediately unlocking said vault inside you.

“are you serious?” you asked, completely sober now as you pulled his hand away from your face & fixed your posture, eyes locked on his for the answer.

“as serious as the dead” his breath hitched, unsure if he made things worse or misread whatever signs you sent, but before he could apologize your hands were already on his face to pull his lips to yours.

it was a messy, top lip & hungry kiss that you’ve been dying to experience since you first laid eyes on him. & god did it felt right, with his tongue meshing with yours & his hands gripping your fishnet covered thighs as he pulled you closer to his body with aching need.

it was the kind of kiss that tried to convey just how you felt about him, the wanting & lusting from afar, the longing glances & lip bites when he made you feel a certain type of way.

it was catastrophic & heavy but sweet with laboured breaths of beer & smudged lipstick.

“holy shit” eddie breathed out against your lips, chasing him for another kiss because it was just that good but you were smiling & clashing your teeth against his & giggling from how silly it all felt.

“that is why i’ve been going insane” you panted against him, hands falling to grip the cotton of his shirt.

“i’m crazy about you eddie. & it’s not the drugs talking, i promise” you swore, scouts honour.

with his forehead pressing against yours & laugh escaping his lips that had little bits of your lipstick, he squeezed your thighs. “i would hope not, ‘cause i’m really crazy about you too”

you closed your eyes now, relishing in the weight lifting off your shoulders & how his touch felt electric. “eddie” you exhaled.

“yeah, sweetheart?” his fingers were pressing different patterns on your thighs to the point where you asked in yourself if he was writing ‘mine’ across the fishnet material.

“can we do this again tomorrow?” you asked, already longing for this feeling to last.

“i don’t plan on letting you go anytime soon, so yeah, i think we can make it happen” eddie smirked, kissing you quick before pulling back to see your swollen lips.

“wanna go back to the party & surprise the geeks?”

“i’d love to”

& with eddie whisking you from the counter, hand on your hip as he lead you back downstairs, you both immediately saw steve & robin jumping up & down happily when they witnessed you two looking like love sick idiots who finally fessed up.

young love, am i right?

#l0vergirlwrites💌#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson fem!reader #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson stranger things #eddie munson x y/n #stranger things fanfic #steve stranger things #stranger things netflix #fanfic

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redflagshipwriter · 2 days

Text

Hot Ghouls in Your Area 8

Chapter 8

Masterpost

“You're just now going to campus?” Jazz said. Danny scowled ahead at the sidewalk. Her tone wasn't judgmental so much as mildly surprised. He still hated it. “That's a lot later than usual. Is everything alright?” Danny hunched his shoulders up and consciously reminded himself not to get defensive. He wasn't slacking. He'd gotten home after his class and slept 13 hours. He still felt wiped out.

“Ghost stuff,” he said cryptically. “Ruined my night.” He dodged someone on the sidewalk without thinking about it, used to the crowds by now.

Jazz inhaled sharply into his ear. “They're supposed to leave you alone to focus on your education,” she hissed. “Just so you know, I do have the venomous Fenton electric creep stick-”

“Yeah, I know,” Danny cut her off. She was probably holding it up right now, thumb on the trigger. He couldn't fight off the rueful smile. She had his back, didn't she? Always did. With that in mind… “I think I need help,” he admitted. Oof. Felt bad. Not as bad as failing his classes, though, which was the danger if he got pulled too deep into more Ghost bull honkey.

“Of course!” Jazz enthused. He stepped off the curb and then quick-stepped backwards to avoid getting hit by some asshole running the red light. Danny lifted up his free hand to flip them off as he hung on his heels on the edge of the pavement drop. He dropped lightly back onto the balls of his feet and jogged across the street.

Jazz was still talking, voice clear over the morning meld of honking and running engines. “How about you come over to my place after your classes tonight? My roommate is out for a conference.”

“You just don't want to come to Crime Alley,” Danny accused her. “Even for me, your beloved baby brother.” He dodged a car that was parked on the cross walk and made an ugly face at the driver. “Despite your professed love for crime, when it counts, it's all talk.”

“I don't love crime,” Jazz reiterated with her inhuman patience. She didn't take the bait of his deliberate mischaracterization of her career plans. “But I am exquisitely stabbable." Her tone went lofty with the brag. "So yes, I avoid Crime Alley.”

Danny blew an unimpressed raspberry to show what he thought of that.

He hadn't met anyone in Gotham yet who he thought would really throw Jazz for a loop. She was a 6ft 2 judo black belt, and she was liminally spooky as fuck. “No one would stab you,” he said, making it sound like an insult. His janky ass was more likely to get held up. "But fine, I'll haul my poor broken corpse all the way over there to do you a favor-”

“So I can do you a favor,” Jazz corrected wryly.

“My poor broken corpse,” Danny cut back in, because that was a really relevant factor to him. He put the back of his hand to his forehead and swooned a little. He felt like he'd been in a tumble dryer. Missing a full night of sleep was an insufferable insult to his desperate shoe-string construction of a healthy routine.

“I would so get robbed if I came there,” Jazz argued. “Maybe even kidnapped.” He could all but hear her flip her hair.

He snorted but let her keep her delicate feminine delusions about not being one of the scariest motherfuckers in the crime capital of the country. He wasn't actually worried about her interning at Arkham Asylum. Maybe he'd freaked out a little when she'd moved here, but that wasn't why he was here. No matter what anyone said.

“There's no immediate danger, right?” Jazz checked. “No reason I need to be concerned today?”

“Nah,” Danny reassured her, as the campus came into sight. He had about an hour before class to spend in the lab before his lecture. “It's not that kind of problem.” He felt his face arranged itself into a wry smile. “You might like this one.”

“Oh?” Jazz asked, intrigued. “Do tell.”

“Only after I've sworn you to perfect silence,” Danny shot back instantly. “I mean it, for real, you can't tell a soul living or dead or nonliving or-”

“I think I get it,” she cut him off. Jazz huffed. “As if I can't keep a secret. You think I can't keep secrets? I know the most incredible things that you could never dream up.”

“...Big if true,” Danny snarked, pretending that he wasn't extremely interested.

“You never knew what happened to the Robinsons,” Jazz said airily. “And you never will.”

“...that doesn't bother me at all,” Danny lied. He stopped walking.

“Ahuh,” Jazz said knowingly. “Hey, remember the neon cheese incident?”

Danny gritted his teeth. “Can't say I do,” he said. It was bullshit, and even he knew it wasn't convincing Jazz. He was dying to know the truth. It had been the talk of the town for weeks and was still occasionally featured on unsolved mystery podcasts. He'd gone far enough to ask the Dairy King, but even the dead wouldn't speak on it.

“Have a good day of classes, little brother,” Jazz said sweetly. She ended the call.

He rubbed at his temples. Ancients, she gave him a headache. She was fantastic. She was killing him and absolutely ruining his unlife. He couldn't even beg her for answers about the neon cheese, because if he managed to badger it out of her, it would prove she could be manipulated into telling secrets. That would be a loss anyway. It was more likely that either she didn't know anything or that she knew and her lips would stay sealed: Danny didn't have any to waste his breath.

He did a few calming rounds of breathing, now that he was thinking about it, and then went on with his day a bit invigorated by the familial aggravation.

Danny felt a little better about focusing on class now that he knew he could count on Jazz in his corner. She was the smartest person he knew. She could probably get him divorced by the end of the day. Hell, she probably already had a contingency plan for getting him a divorce. She was so ready for him to have a relationship so that he would have relationship problems to ask her about.

When he finished up on campus, Danny cut across town to pick up takeout food as an offering. He presented it to Jazz as soon as she opened the door, head bowed and food theatrically high.

“Oh, come in,” Jazz said, exasperated. She grabbed him by the back of his collar and bodily pulled him inside. “My neighbors are going to think I'm so weird, Danny!”

“My liege,” he intoned seriously. “I come bearing- ow! Stop hitting my- hey, my face!” Danny wrestled away from the horrible pinching grip his terrible sister had on his cheeks, scowling. “That hurt,” he complained. “Have you ever thought that you're getting caught up in the cycle of violence?”

“I don't lose sleep over it.” Jazz lowered herself delicately onto one of the weird puffs she had instead of chairs and made grabby hands at the takeout. “What did you get me?”

“Coal,” Danny snarked. But he handed over the bag without a fight and plopped himself onto the closest poof thing. He fully laid out and let his head flop past the edge to hang upside down.

“Inversion therapy, so chic,” Jazz said absently.

He considered flipping her off, but his balance was really off in this position and it would be hard to defend himself if she lunged at him. Hell, if she picked up his legs he'd probably tip over onto the floor. Danny dug his heels into the side of the poof in defensive preparation. He kept her in his peripheral vision.

“Oh, Malaysian,” Jazz enthused. “I wanted to have this!” She sounded a little too surprised.

He shot her a thumbs up. Two days ago, she'd sent him a screenshot of a text landing from someone else that had shown most of her screen was the active map app she was using to get to an appointment. The Malaysian restaurant had the star mark that she put on the places that she wanted to try.

He'd gambled that she hadn't gone yet because she hadn't had a late night at work. Jazz only got takeout with company or if she got home too late to cook.

“Cool,” Danny said, because he didn't want his rotten sister to think he cared about her interests. “It was on the way and it smelled good.”

Jazz hummed and put the food on the side table. “So I see.” She folded her fingers in front of her face and peered at him over the steeple. “What happened? What ghost do I need to soup with a fragrant combination of turmeric and saffron?”

“Please don't waste that, ghosts taste fine on their own,” Danny said.

Jazz grimaced. “Ew, Danny,” she enunciated carefully. She paused. “Ew.”

He shrugged and accidentally slipped a little closer to the floor. “Just saying. But actually, no one dead was involved, unless we count-”

“We don't count,” Jazz cut him off, serenely unbothered by his attempts to score empathy points off his death. She was a cold customer.

“Boo,” Danny said, because he knew his brand and respected ghost tradition. “Anyway, Jeremy Waters. Remember -”

“How could I forget,” Jazz muttered. She put her hands on her face.

“Hey,” Danny said, offended that Jeremy got that reaction and he got a big fat impassive nothing no matter how annoying he was.

“What’s Jeremy done?” Jazz sounded exhausted by the concept.

“Well… He uh.” Danny stared at the ceiling. He couldn't look at her directly. “Well. You know how he wants the good favor of the god of the underworld?”

“Yup.” Jazz hit the ‘p’ sound hard.

“He uh, hit the idea that uh. Maybe a Persephone of sorts was just the thing to suck up.”

He heard fabric rustle as Jazz sat up. “He did?”

Wow, she had one of the most fascinating ceilings in the world. Danny stared intently up at a splotch that looked vaguely malign. She ought to get that checked out by an expert before it possessed somebody. “Yeah, so he's been trying to vault people into the Ghost Zone as bridal sacrifices.”

“Ahuh.” Jazz sounded a little bit choked up. She wasn't laughing, so he couldn't complain.

“I had Dani get Vlad look into it-” because Dad or Mom would have been mortifying- “and apparently, he told her the odds of some hack wizard managing to send a living human to the ghost zone was laughable.”

He paused. He couldn't go on.

“And Vlad would know,” Jazz said leadingly.

Danny put a hand over his face. “Yeah, see, the thing is that I'm now very concerned that Vlad might not know.” His words came out muffled.

Jazz was so intent on him. He pretended even harder not to know she was leaning in towards him. “Does- does the ghost king have a bride, Danny?” She somehow managed in a professional tone.

He nodded miserably.

She promptly lost her shit laughing at his misfortune.

#red hot ghouls #dp x dc #dc x dp #dead on main #dc fanfic

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buckybarnesisdaddy · 3 days

Text

Meet Cute

Summary: You stumble upon a pottery TikTok account and the creator is super hot. When you win his contest for a custom piece, well sparks start to fly.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes X Reader

Warning: Sexual innuendos, Smut (Oral, PiV), talks of fighting as kids, talks of alcohol use and being drunk. No protection sex (but it’s okay, they talk about it.) Minors DNI

Idea came from this post

Dividers by @firefly-graphics

Another Friday night with nothing better to do than sit on your phone scrolling Instagram while a forgotten movie plays in the background. You really should be writing, you have a deadline coming up soon but you just can’t bring yourself to write about romance and love. You can hear Natasha saying goodbye to her date on the doorstep, and she has been for the last 20 minutes. Finally Natasha comes stumbling in, face flushed and giggling away, which is odd because Natasha never giggles. “So I take it the date went well?” You ask from your perch on the couch, covered in blankets and a bowl of popcorn cooled on the seat next to you.

“If you must know, yes!!” She gushes and runs over to sit beside you. “He is so sweet and such a gentleman-”

“What he as doing to you out there didn’t sound too ‘gentleman like.’ In fact it sounds down right scandalous.” You tease and Natasha rolls her eyes and gives you a playful shove.

“He was an absolute gentleman,” she doubles down before she blushes and admits, “well that was till I said all the right words and had him ready to eat me alive.” Natasha laughs as you pretend to retch. “Oh hush! If you ever got off this couch you’d have a line of men waiting to take you out and begging for you to talk dirty to them.” Natasha winks, you can feel the heat rise in your cheeks and you sink further down into the couch.

“I have Bridgerton, and my own fictional men that I write, I don’t need a man.” You shoot back at her slightly insulting but meant in good fun jab at your non-existent dating life. “Anyway, where did you meet this guy again?” Natasha picks up a handful of popcorn before she realizes it’s cold. She wrinkles her nose but commits anyway to eating it.

“Tiktok!” Natasha answers over a mouthful. A loud laugh escapes for you and she gives you another play shove before taking the popcorn for herself. “We talked a lot online before we met up. He’s great, in fact i have made lots of friends from TikTok! You should give it a try!” Abruptly standing up and shaking your head, you walk to the kitchen to retrieve a drink.

“No way, I know myself and I’d end up sucked Down the rabbit hole and I’d never get anything done. And for the sake of my job, I can’t have that.” Natasha sighs a unmutes the tv.

“What a waste of a good ass and ‘I'll beg for it eyes’.” Natasha teases and you can’t help but laugh again as you enter the room with your water and a drink for Natasha.

“What kind of videos did you think A) I would be watching and B) potentially making?!” Sitting down next to her giving her a hard stare. Natasha stares straight ahead, purposely not meeting your gaze as she shrugs.

“Anything you wanted, Bunny.” She looks over and winks, using the old nickname you got back in college after too many drinks and a spin on a pogo stick.

“Wow you must really be worried about my good ass and ‘beg for it’s eyes’ going to waste if you’re baiting me with that name!” You lean back and prop your feet up on the coffee table. Natasha leans her head over and eats it on yours.

“All I’m saying is the first step in dating is getting yourself out there. Why not start with a stupid video app? Connect with others from the safety of a screen, and see where it goes.” She smiles and gives your hand a squeeze before she yawns and stands again. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I need a shower,” she blushes, “My man got me pretty worked up.” She winks and dashes off. You shake your head and just laugh as you turn back to your movie. That night you toss and turn, unable to sleep. You can’t stop thinking about what Natasha said. Maybe it would be fun, it’s not the pressure of a dating app and you can give out as much information as you are willing to. What could go wrong? Knowing Natasha is still awake as you quickly send her a text.

‘Fine… make me a page but keep it generic.’ About as soon as you put your phone down it dings. You pick it up to find multiple messages from Natasha. ‘Yay! I already did! Here is the login! Have fun!! 😉’

**********************************************

Bucky is setting up in his garage studio when he hears the bike rev outside and then turn off. Steve walks in and lays his helmet down on one of his work tables.

“So? How did the date go?” Bucky asks as he sets down a bucket of water next to his wheel and sets a sponge out next to the bucket. Steve leans against the table and grabs a chunk of modeling clay. He starts to knead it in his hands, treating it like a stress ball as he smiles.

“Honestly? Amazing! I mean, really Buck. She’s great!” Bucky laughs to himself and nods. “You know you’re never gonna find a women unless you actually get out there and try to date.” Steve teases and Bucky just throws a rag at him.

“Yeah yeah, hand me that clay and let me get paid, okay?!” Bucky jokes and Steve tosses him the clay. He slaps it down on the wheel and Steve laughs.

“See, that right there would have women lining up and down the street for you!” Steve turning Bucky’s harmless actions of slapping his clay into sexual jokes and Bucky returning the favor is something Bucky hopes they never outgrown.

“Yeah, and the boys would be lining up to have you handle their wood, we’d be making bank if we started charging.” Steve laughs and shoves Bucky.

“Woodworking is a noble hobby.” Steve rebuts.

“Noble and as old at time!” Bucky had the last say. “Now, shut up and press live for me.” Bucky smiles and Steve pretends to be annoyed as he does what was asked.

**********************************************

You want to be upset that she did it before you gave her permission, but you know she means well. Your last relationship did not end well and you haven’t dated since, honestly you’ve been sacred to. Natasha just wants to see you happy. You download the app and use the login information Natasha sent you. Apparently she’s been following people for you and set up the whole account. She was nice enough to not include a picture of you, instead she added the generic pictures everyone can choose from when they start a profile. She put that your name is ‘Bunny’, you she’s your head and just laugh, reminding yourself to change that later. You see you username ‘talkdirtytome’. “Oh Nat,” you groan. Becoming a master at TikTok in a matter of minutes you find where to change your username, but seeing as Natasha had changed it 5 times in less than 2 hours, your account is locked to more changes for at least a week. Thankful that the username you ended up with wasn’t so bad considering one of the last names was ‘fckbunny'. “Oh my god, Nat. You are so dead!” You take a deep breath and sit up against your headboard. You remind yourself it’s not the end of the world and it’s just the internet, it’s only forever. Ready to give it a rest for the night you lay your phone down when you get a notification.

*Buchananclaymates is going live*

“Who the hell is that and why does it sound like porn?” Even as you ask yourself that very important question your thumb has already clicked on the notification. You are taken to the live screen on TikTok. On your screen sits the most handsome man you’ve ever seen in your life. His blue eyes pop against the blue henley he is wearing and his hair is short. Theres a boyish charm to him even though he is clearly in his early late 20’s maybe even early 30’s. He is sitting in some kind of garage and on the shelf behind him sits a dozen or so pots, pitchers, mugs, plates, all of them handcrafted. What gets you the most is his little New York accent slipping through his words. Not too much but enough that you can pick out the Brooklyn in him. His voice is so smooth, you could fall asleep listening to him talk about pottery. And his laugh, it makes you smile and you want to hear it again, so light and free, beautiful. As the shock of how beautiful this man is finally resolves, he says something that makes your heart drop straight to your stomach.

**********************************************

Bucky is having fun as all his followers sign on and begin requesting stuff. He starts to work the clay and begins his steps on making a pitcher. He is taking a moment to read some of the chat when a new user pops up. He memorized all his regulars, and yes there is about 100-200 of them but he has a good memory, against all odds and every concussion he had as a child. But his is one he has never seen before. He cleans off his hands and moves the camera closer.

“Hey, I see some new people here tonight,” He gets a better look at the username and he can’t help but blush and laugh as he teases his new viewer. “User ‘talkdirtytome’ I feel like you might be on my wrong account.” He winks. “I’m just messing with you! I do have another account and it is a little more… well-“ **********************************************

A voice from somewhere behind the camera shouts, “thirst trappy!!” The man Blushes but also nods, “yeah, I guess Rogers is right. It’s full of pottery thirst traps. But nothing more than that. This is a pg-13 page so, ‘talkdirtytome’ save it for the DM’s” he winks and laughs again. You look at the comments pouring in as the live continues, some are asking about buying some of his work. Others are asking if he makes custom pieces. Other ask what’s his favorite type of clay to use, you didn’t know there were different types. But overwhelmingly the comments were asking ‘take your shirt off!’ The man didn’t seem bothered by the comments at all, in fact he ate it up. Flirting and teasing the viewers with movements that showed little sections of his stomach or leaning forward and letting his shirt dip enough to see down it. He truly is a showman because you are entranced and before you know it you’ve spent an hour on this live watching him talk about pottery, and getting to know a little about him. You find yourself wanting to know everything, he seems so sweet and his eyes are kind. You don’t even realize you’re drooling over him until he starts rapping up the live. You don’t even know his name and yet you’re sad when he finally says goodnight and cuts the live off.

**********************************************

Bucky is pleasantly surprised with how well this live went. He got 15 orders while on live and he got about 1000 new followers. He knew he was pulling out all the stops tonight and flirting hardcore. Making sure he didn’t wear an undershirt so when he raised his arms the comment section went wild with the tease. Putting his hair in a half up half down bun that he knows drives his followers crazy. He was playing for keeps and thankfully it paid off. Especially with his most interesting new viewer. Why this new user caught his eye he will never know, ‘talkdirtytome’ was probably some 59 year old bald guy who found Bucky hot… but he couldn’t help hoping that maybe the user was really some really beautiful women in her late 20’s… a guy can dream, right?

**********************************************

You quickly click to his profile and do a little stalking. You can’t find this other page he talked about, probably because it’s some onlyfans or something like a cam sight. He was probably keeping it PG so the TikTok police didn’t flag his video. You’ve only been on it for about 2 hours but you’ve heard all about people getting banned or blocked because their videos were “too mature.” You give his page a once over again you finally clock his name. “James, huh. How very.. normal.” You blush and quickly jump back to your page, feeling exhilarated you change the profile picture to one of you. It doesn’t really show much, in fact all it shows is your hair and a hidden side profile… but it’s a step. You then find James page again and quickly, before you can second guess yourself, you follow him and set up notifications. You don’t want to miss seeing this beautiful man. Maybe Natasha was right, maybe this wouldn’t be so bad. You lay your phone down and drift off to sleep, happier than ever.

**********************************************

Right before Bucky is about to go to bed he sees a new notification,

*New Follower- Bunny*

“Who the fuck is Bunny??” Bucky asks out loud as he clicks on the profile. He sees the username at the top ‘talkdirtytome’, “Ahh so Baldies name is Bunny, great.” Bucky groans. But then he sees the profile picture. “I wait, that’s a women. Wait- that’s?! FUCK YES!” He about yells from the comfort of his room, and only bring his voice down because he remembers Steve is on the other side of the wall. He messages you and then Bucky goes to sleep one happy man.

**********************************************

The sun streams through your window and you wake up to the soft buzz of your phone. You stretch and start your morning routine before actually checking the said phone, because you know the time suck that will happen if you just sit and scroll instead of getting up and ready. A text from Natasha saying she’s meeting ‘her man’ and will bring you back a coffee. You start to set your phone down when you notice a little red bubble on the TikTok app. Curiosity gets the better of you and you find your way back to your bed before you open it. The butterflies that burst in your stomach and travel throughout your body leave you breathless when you see that you have 5 messages from ‘Buchananclaymates’ aka Bucky.

“Ohmygodohmygodohmygod!!” You start screaming as you take deep breaths and try to calm down. “Okay, it’s okay. He’s just a dude. He’s hot! But he’s just a guy, just read the messages.” You click them open and one by one your face heats up more and those butterflies become stronger lower and lower in your body.

*Messages*

Hey!

I see I have a new follower 😉

Glad I didn’t scare you off with all that teasing.

Hope to see you around again!

Maybe even here, 😏 ‘claymatesbuck’

“Oh my god,” you groan at the innuendo of the second username. “So it’s definitely porn!” You exclaim, not sure how you feel about this. “Of course the guy I find attractive is the one with a porn page.” You groan. “You really know how to pick em!” You pout for a moment and then you realize that you’re home alone. Natasha is out and will be for awhile. Your curiosity pushes you to click on the username and you are taken to another tiktok page. Every thumbnail for each video is of Bucky shirtless and working with clay. “He wasn’t kidding about the thirst traps.” You blush as you click on one video. It start to play and there is a semi sexually suggestive song playing as Bucky works the clay in his hands. Molding it and shaping it just how he wants. His biceps are on display and his abs, he ends the video with a little wink and lip bite.

“Oh my god!!” It comes out as more of a moan than it did an actual exclamation. “Oh Natasha, what have you done?!” You groan as you lay on your bed, ready to spend the morning watching every video on his page.

Before long you end up pressing that follow button and closing the app before you can do anything else to embarrass yourself.

**********************************************

Bucky sees your follow on his other page and if he sits down and plans out the next few videos to be exceptionally dirty, well maybe there was a correlation. Or maybe not.

**********************************************

The next two weeks you find yourself watching James new videos he posts and viewing his lives whenever you have a chance. He really does work great with his hands and half the time you forget that he is shirtless until he’s winking at the camera or he’s flirty and teasing everyone saying ‘You guys need some water.’ You wish you had the courage to message him and get to know him a little more but your nerves get in the way each time before you can press send. James will send you flirty messages and you will like them but you can never bring yourself to respond. You interact just enough to let him know to keep doing it.

It’s Friday night again and you see he is going live, like always you join and just watch. “So I have recently reached almost 10,000 followers on here, which is a huge milestone and I wanted to celebrate it!” He sits closer to the phone screen and you get a better glimpse of his eyes. Even. Bluer than you originally thought. He has little creases by his eyes that crinkle when he smiles too big and his nose scrunches up. He’s perfect. “Anyone that wants to be added into the drawing leave a comment on my last video saying so. This drawing is for a custom pottery piece of your choice. So if you win I will make you whatever you ask for,” he smirks, apparently knowing some of his followers a little too well. “Well within reason. No ‘life art’ sculptures.” He winks and you feel the blush start to rise. Would someone really be that bold to request that of him? “Anyway, the drawing will happen tomorrow at noon! So go comment now for the chance to win.” He signs off with a little wave and wink. Without even thinking, because if you think about it you will back out, you comment and ask to be added in. Within minutes he has liked your comment and sent another message to you.

*message*

I was gonna add you in regardless. 😉

The heat is almost burning in your face, he doesn’t even know you. How could he be this good at getting a rise out of you?! Your brain won’t shut off that night, thinking and even dreaming about this man behind your phone screen. “Damn it!” You grumble and end up having to watch some old Disney movies just to keep your mind off the filthy things you wish James would do to you instead of the clay he usually is holding. You finally drift off to sleep to the sounds of Cinderella.

****************************************************

“Hey!” Natasha pulls you out of your thoughts as you look up from your morning coffee.

“Hey, sorry.”

“It’s fine,” she looks you over. “Man you were really out of it. Didn’t even hear me invite you out.”

“Huh?” You hum in acknowledgment and Natasha rolls her eyes.

“I said I am going out later with my TikTok boyfriend and he has a friend that he can invite if you wanted to join.” She explains for the second time.

“Oh umm now? I-“ you try to think of an excuse, not wanting to miss the drawing on James page. “I actually have plans. With someone online.” Natasha shoots up straight and about squeals in excitement. “Okay okay, calm down.” You laugh. “It’s not a date but this guys been super flirty and I- I don’t know, maybe today I will finally make the move and message him back.” You shrug trying to play it off.

“Tell me everything, now!!” Natasha demands as she sips her coffee. “Don’t leave out a single detail.” You debate on lying, or just making it juicier than it is, but you decide against it.

“Okay, just don’t laugh.” You remind her before you tell her everything. She already has his page pulled up and is drooling over him too.

“He is hot!! Wow, and he said all those things to you?!” Meaning the messages he had sent.

“Yeah, so I don’t know. Maybe he’s trying to drum up business-” Natasha shakes her head.

“No, absolutely not. He is flirting hardcore.” She keeps looking through videos and one seems to catch her eye as her eyes widen and then a big smirk crosses her face before she exists out of the app and lays her phone down. Super quiet and worrying you even more than she does when shes asking you a million questions. “You said there is a drawing today?” You nod and you can see the wheels turning already. “At noon?” She asks and you nod again, she checks her watch and then opens her phone, obviously sending a message to someone.

“Natasha if you are messaging James, so help me-“ she cuts you off.

“And so what if I am?” She teases. “I’m just doing the hard work for you, the correct response is ‘thank you’.” She blows you a kiss as she leaves the room, leaving your stomach in knots and even more worried about this drawing.

**********************************************

Steve is in the garage with Bucky, getting ready for the drawing for his page and starting to film some more content for his own carpentry and woodworking page when he gets a text. He looks over at Bucky and then just laughs and quickly answers back.

“What’s so funny Punk?” Bucky asks and Steve smiles.

“Nothing, Jerk. You need help with the drawing? Where’s the bowl?” Steve asks as he slides his phone back in his pants. Bucky points to where he sat it and Steve grabs it to help.

**********************************************

“Okay everyone, it is noon and we are ready to get this show on the road!” James says happily. You refused to let Natasha sit and watch with you. She can watch on her own phone, but she won’t have a front row seat to your blushing or your disappointment when you inevitably lose. “I had over 500 of you enter, which is just incredible! Next time I should make each entry like $3 and send all the proceeds to wounded warriors.” You gently smile at the kind idea. It’s sweet, thinking of others instead of finding a way to make a bigger payday for himself. “Okay, let’s draw! The bowl, Rogers!” A hand comes into frame and the bowl is above James head. He lifts an arm up and reaches in pulling one slip of paper out. And as soon as the arm appeared it disappeared. James opens the paper and smiles before it turns to a laugh and then a smirk. “Well, user ‘talkdirtytome’, I am looking forward to making that custom piece for you.” You swear he stares right at you as he bites his lip and smiles again. “To everyone else, there will be more in the future! Oh and ‘talk dirty’?” You sit up and answer him like an idiot.

‘He can’t hear you, moron.’ You shake your head.

“I’ll be in touch. Bye everyone!” And the live ends. You lay your head down on your bed and just smile at the thought that James will be making a custom piece of pottery for you. When Natasha speaks she scares you half to death, not having heard her sneak in.

“WOW, you’ve got it bad!” She teases and you toss a pillow at her.

“Leave me alone!” You laugh and yell as you look down at the message that just came through.

**********************************************

When he read your username he had to remind himself that he can’t be partial, at least not on camera, but he couldn’t help the smile. He is gonna do this right and he refuses to mess it up, he’s got just the plan. He grabs his phone from his stand and quickly messages you.

**********************************************

*Message*

James- Idk how you feel about exchanging numbers, which I’d be fine with but I understand if you’re not. So zoom? Maybe later this afternoon?

You blush and quickly write back. Saying that you can’t wait and you will “see” him then. James likes your message and then sends a picture of binoculars. It’s so random and weird but you can’t help but laugh. Maybe Natasha’s right, you do have it bad.

You check your hair about 10 times, make sure your make up is okay, not too much but just enough to make it look like you’re not wearing any at all. Your sundress that you were already wearing perfectly accents your figure and makes your eyes pop. You check the lighting in your room and play with the blinds. With 10 minutes to spare before the arranged time for the zoom you sit down as your computer notifies you that you are in the “waiting room.” Whenever Jane slogs on the camera will turn on and that will be it. As you wait so many thoughts cross your mind. ‘He’s probably gonna be short and keep it super professional.’ ‘He may flirt for the camera but there’s no way he’d actually like me.’, ‘Calm down, he’s probably gonna be on and off as fast as he can.’ You start to doubt yourself and you suddenly feel self-conscious for looking nice. Right as you’re about to throw your hair up and grab a blanket to wrap around your shoulders, the screen goes black and then lights up, James is right in front of you. He doesn’t look right at you, still messing around with his notebook and taking a drink of water, obviously not realizing that you two are already connected. At first when he sees you his eyes just glance over. But then the realization hits and his eyes widen

**********************************************

“Wow,” Bucky is breathless. You’re not just beautiful, you’re stunning. He’s never been mesmerized by a single thing or person in his life, until this moment. “I- uh I’m-“ he lightly laughs as he smiles, he can’t stop smiling. “Hi I’m James,” he laughs and blushes as he hangs his head for a moment. “Um but people who have seen me stutter and stumble over my words, like an idiot, get to call me Bucky.” Your smile is contagious and your eyes sparkle brightly as Bucky talks more and more. Your laugh is sweet and music to his ears.

“Hi Bucky, I’m Elizabeth but people who can make me laugh this much can call me Lizzy or Bunny.” You lean forward a little and Bucky laughs.

“Bunny? There’s got to be a story behind that.” He presses lightly. You nod and hide your face for a moment as you blush and giggle.

“There is, but all I can say now is, it was college and I was very drunk, and someone dared me to use a pogo stick… and it turns out I was VERY good at it.” You laugh and Bucky is amazed as he laughs.

“Well so am I so maybe we will have to have a competition to see who is better.” He winks and you laugh.

“Tell me when and where! I’ll just need a few shots first then my balance will be perfect!” You lightly joke as you both laugh. It gets quiet for a minute and Bucky is just taking you in. “So,” Bucky’s eyes go wide as he remembers the whole reason for the zoom.

“Yes, right! Well how about we start by you telling me what you would like.” Bucky says as he grabs his notebook, looking down and starting to write, maybe if he focuses on writing he won’t embarrass himself even more. But then you start to speak and Bucky can’t help but look up and meet your gaze, your voice so sweet and soft. Your eyes kind and warm, ‘how could the username ‘talkdirtytome’ belong to the picture of purity and kindness.’ He smiles at the thought and tries his hardest to listen as you talk.

“I’m not picky at all, so maybe a vase?” You suggest. “Yeah, I’d like to have a gift that means something to me.” You finish explaining. Bucky just stares and then realizes you are done, he quickly looks down and starts to scribble some notes. He is so handsome, you think. The way his brow furrows as he’s concentrating and how the subtle but noticeable blush spreads across his cheeks. His shoulders are firm and you can tell he is solid. His voice, deep and warm, catches you off guard and you hope he didn’t catch you looking starry eyed at him.

“A Vase? That I can do!” Bucky says happily. He didn’t miss how your voice turned ever sweeter when you said ‘a gift that means something.’ He tells himself not to bet too excited. “Colors? Designs?” He wonders what all is hiding in your mind and if you will share it with him now for this vase. If he can get a picture of who you are.

“I love wildflowers, if I’m being honest. But not bright and bold. More subtle and muted. Almost watercolor like.” You laugh to yourself and you see Bucky’s eyes light up at the sound. “Sorry I know that probably sounds weird.”

She’s perfect, Bucky thinks. “Watercolored wild flowers? Yeah, I can make that happen.” He doesn’t want this to end but he has all he needs. How to make this go longer?! “So- I’m local to Brooklyn- and you by no means have to tell me where you’re from or anything- unless you want to!” He cringes at his awkwardness and your giggles let him know it’s alright.

“I am too, well close enough.” You explain. “So maybe we could meet up?” You see Bucky’s eyes light up and then you shoot yourself in the foot. “When it’s time for me to pick up the vase.” His eyes look a little sadder but his smile doesn’t fade.

“Yeah, I’ll send you a message on TikTok when it’s ready and we can find a place to meet.” Bucky says as he sits back in his chair. “I’m excited to get started on it, it looks like a fun one.” He continues as he looks down at his notes.

“I know it will be wonderful, all your work is.” You compliment, wanting to make up for your error that cause the light to dull in those incredible blue eyes. “I do have a question,” He leans forward again.

“Shoot.” Plan and simple.

“Well, what’s up with your two different accounts and the one username? Because at first I thought it was a porn page.” You explain, hopping to get a laugh. And you did. Bucky laughs, his hand over his pec and head thrown back with abandon.

“Oh no! Were you disappointed?” He teases and you laugh.

“Well maybe I was!” You tease back, not quite sure where the courage came from.

“Well as you know now, I go by Bucky. So I just used the ‘Clay mates’ and my name which does sound a lot like-“

“Yeah! So why?” You press again, smiling even bigger.

“It was a dare from a friend and it kinda stuck. I get tons of people asking so it also generates conversations around my business and what not. So it works! Is it crass? Kinda. Do I care? No.” He laughs again and messes with his hair a little. “So you know I make pottery but what do you do, Bunny?” He smirks and your face is aflame at the use of your nickname.

“I’m a writer, I write romance novels.” Suddenly feels quite bashful about your job. Bucky nods and rubs his chin as he watches you.

“So? Is this a meet cute worthy of one of your books?” Bucky asks. You look behind the computer at your wall where you storyboards are. A gentle smile washes over you as you look back at an expectant Bucky.

“Yeah, I’d say it is.” You admit. An alarm goes off on Bucky’s side of the screen and he curses under his breath.

“Sorry, Bunny. I’ve got to go. If I’m being honest I really wish I didn’t. I’d love to stay here all night getting to know you, I promised a friend I’d go out tonight and I never break a promise. So with that knowledge handed to you on a silver platter,” you laugh and he smiles brightly again. “I promise I will make you a gift that means something.” Your breath catches and you nod slightly.

“Thank you, Bucky.” You say before you both wave goodbye like dorks.

**********************************************

Your chance, gone. Like a lot of chances in your life. Watching them go by because you don’t have the courage to ask for what you want. Natasha walks into your room and pulls you up from the bed. “Come on, we are late.” You finally agreed to go out with just her when you started to come down from the high of getting to talk to Bucky. “I promise, you will have fun. In fact this will be the best night of your life.” She hugs you and leads you to the door. As it opens you come face to face with Natasha’s ‘tiktok boyfriend’

“Hiya Stevie,” Natasha coos as she leans in and gives him a sweet kiss. Steve meets your gaze when he pulls back and offers his hand.

“Hey! I’m Steve Rogers,” he motions beside him, urging someone to move in closer. “And this is my friend Bucky Barnes.” You meet those blue eyes and melt, Bucky’s painfully awkward smile turns genuine when he sees you. He almost shoves Steve out of the way to get closer to you.

“Oh my god- Bunny?!” Bucky exclaims. “So your friend who made your TikTok account is the same one my friend has been dating for the past two months,” he smiles and laughs. “What a small world! God, I’m glad to see you.” You blush at the nickname, Natasha bumping your arm and Steve giving you both a questioning look when he hears the name.

You are just as shocked as Bucky and honestly can’t find the words.

“I’m stunned,” you laugh and look at Natasha. “Did you know?!” You ask her and she smirks as she pulls Steve into her arms.

“I would know my man’s voice and hands anywhere, so when I saw and heard him on one of Bucky’s videos I quickly texted Stevie and we worked our magic.” She winks. “I mean out of 500 entries for the pottery and you won! How lucky was that.” She winks again and you gasp.

“Did you two rig the drawling?!?” You exclaim and Bucky shoots a glance to Steve who is blushing bright red.

“I may have added a few extra slips with your name.” He admits. Bucky turns and faces him as he crosses his arms.

“How many?” Bucky asks and Steve laughs and sheepishly admits,

“Like 200 extra slips. She had a very good chance at winning.” Steve looks at Natasha and then you and Bucky. You both laugh and Bucky turns back to you.

“Well I’m sure as hell not mad,” he reaches out for your hand. “Are you?” He questions and you shake your head no as you put your hand in his. “Good,” Bucky leans in closer and pulls you in, your lips almost brush when you hear your apartment door close and lock. Looking back you see that Natasha and Steve have slipped inside. “So I guess it’s just us tonight,” he laughs and you agree. “What would you like to do? Cause I have no idea what they had planned.” You think for a minute and then turn back to the door and knock. Bucky lets go of your hand and you quickly grab it back giving him a wink. A slightly irritated Natasha opens the door, lipstick gone and smeared all over Steve’s face.

“What?” She asks and you push past her headed to your room. Bucky stands in the hallway watching and praying you come back.

You emerge with your purse that’s pretty big and Natasha knows that’s your “just in case I spend the night.” Purse. You wave goodbye as you grab your keys and close the door behind you. Turning to Bucky and pulling him in, you kiss his cheek and wrap your arms around one of his.

“Where to?” You ask.

**********************************************

Steve drove them there so you offer to drive wherever.

“Would it be too forward to invite you back to my place? I’d really like to show you my studio.” He asks so sweetly, you can tell he is nervous. You tease him a little

“Is that your line for all the girl?” Bucky laughs and shakes his head.

“Nope, I never bring girls back to my studio. But if love to have you there.” The double meaning is not Lost on you or Bucky. The blush giving you away, Bucky laughs and pulls you closer before kissing your forehead and taking your keys. “You okay if I drive us?”

“Sure, just promise not to murder me.” You joke as you climb in your car. Bucky sits and gets it started before he looks at you and shrugs.

“No promises, my art has been described as deadly good.” He winks and you laugh at his horrible joke. Soon you are pulling up to a little house with a detached garage.

“You know, it really does look like you’re about to kill me.” You tease but also look around and check the area.

“I know, it’s not the best house but it works and it’s clean. A good neighborhood and lots of space so Steve and I really try hard for our personalities to outshine the murder aesthetic our house gives off.” He takes your hand and walks you to the garage as you laugh. The garage lights up and on every wall is a shelf full of pottery projects. Some half done, some completely done.

“Wow! Bucky, these are amazing!” You exclaim as you look at the intricate detail on each piece. You turn to meet his gaze and he is leaning against his work table just watching you. Moving through the room with Grace and admiring his work, it’s really doing something to him. He hopes you feel the same way.

“So? How did you get into pottery?” You ask as you run your finger along one of the freshly finished pieces.

“I was in the army, when I got out I needed a hobby that I could turn my mind off and just work. Pottery gave me a place for that and it also gave me a place to rediscover my creativity.” Bucky explains. You turn and look at him, gentle as in your eyes.

“That’s why you said that comment about wounded warriors. You wanna support your fellow vets.” You hope your assumption is correct. Bucky nods and smiles, staying firmly where he is.

“Yeah, I nearly lost my arm before I got out. Others aren’t so lucky. So any way I can give back, I try to.” He picks up a piece of clay and start to mold it while talking, mindless work that helps settle his nerves and al the feelings he is having about you.

“That’s amazing.” You say simply, not wanting to push more.

“How did you get into Romance writing?” Bucky asks, a teasing smile across his face. You laugh and continue to walk around the room, looking at the pieces.

“Well, I’m a hopeless romantic,” you look up and meet his gaze. “So I guess I just write about the things I hope would happen to me.” You shrug, your explanation seems simple enough. Bucky is mesmerized by you, how such a beautiful and sweet woman would be single blows his mind. And so sincere too, none of that fake humility he sees in the women he meets who are as beautiful as you, with you, it’s all real and sweet. It’s refreshing.

“How long have you and Steve Been friends?” You ask, wanting to change the topic from yourself.

“Since childhood, he was always getting his ass beat behind the school and I was always there to step in and finish the fight he started.” You laugh and so does Bucky.

“So Steve was a bully?” You ask.

“No!” Bucky laughs. “Just a little punk who wanted to ‘stick up for the little guy’ but he was the little guy, so.” Bucky lightly laughs and you nod. “How about you and Natasha?”

“Since high school. Her family moved here and she was all ‘cool and steely’ that none of the other kids wanted to talk to her,” you laugh at the thought. “I made it my mission to become friends with her. By senior year we were going to go to the same college and we’re going to room together.”

“She seems like a pretty great friend.” Bucky comments, “And Steve adores her but I’m sure she already knows that cause Steve wears his heart on his sleeve.” Bucky teases and you laugh. For a moment it’s quiet, Bucky just watches you and you feel butterflies erupt in your stomach and a heat settle even lower. This man is so sweet and kind, not to mention incredibly hot. He is absolutely making you regret not wearing your sexy underwear tonight. You see some clay and the wheel sitting in the middle of the floor. You walk over and run a finger over the clay. Looking up and see Bucky’s eyes raking over your body, you feel invigorated. As sexily as you can, you sit on the stool and toss a look over at him.

“Teach me, please?” You demand and then ask. You see the moment Bucky melts and is all in. He smirks and walks over, pulling up a chair behind you and straddling your body. He places his hands on your and shows you where to plant your feet. He leans forward and whispers against your ear.

“This is a little too ‘Ghost’ for me.” He teases and you giggle as you turn and look at him. His eyes drop to your lips and then back to your eyes. Clay forgotten, you spin in his arms and crash your lips to his. His hands roam over your back, pulling you closer. You moan against his lips, desperate for more, but he pulls away. Breathless and blushing he asks. “I hope this isn’t too forward, would you like to stay the night?” You smirk and move back, away from his arms to grab your bag. Reaching your hand out for him to take again.

“Lead the way.” You coo. Bucky has you in his arms and pressed against his chest so quickly. His lips capture yours again and you giggle against them. Bucky lifts you into his arms and expertly makes his way into the house, never leaving your lips longer than a Quick Look at the doors to make sure they are locked.

Stumbling down the hallway, backs pressed against the walls as you both fight for dominance. Giggles and moans filling the air as you grope each others bodies, seeking flesh rather than clothing. When your back finally presses against Bucky’s door, he pulls back and takes your face in his hands. “This isn’t too fast, is it? You feel this too, right? This connection- this pull.” You bite your lip and nod as you place your hands firmly against his chest, the muscles beneath your fingers, firm and hard, drool worthy.

“Yeah, I feel it too.” You admit before kissing him again and moaning against his mouth. Bucky opens the door and kicks it closed with his boot. He walks you backwards to the bed and in utter abandon you allow yourself to fall, fall back, fall in, fall deep. Pulling back slightly, Bucky caresses your cheek and meets your gaze, your heartbeat quickens as he gently smiles and an exciting peace washes over you. You’ve never felt this safe, this fast. Slowing the pace, Bucky takes his time with you. Kissing down your neck and nipping lightly at your collarbone before his fingers dance at the hem of your shirt. Your hands slips under his shirt and your fingers draw line over his back as he moves above you. First to go his his shirt, tossed behind him and across the room. He sees your eyes trailing down his body and he gives you a moment to take it in. His chest is sculpted yet still soft under your touch, the tasteful amount of chest hair along his pec and sternum tickle your fingers as you memorize his body with your finger tips, and the trail of dark brown hair leading down from his bellybutton and disappearing below his waistband sends your mind into over drive. You lean up and kiss along his chest as he moans at the feeling of your tongue grazing along his nipples. He grabs the hem of your shirt and lifts it up and over your head, tossing it with his. Leaning down and kissing the tops of your breast, he is in heaven. The straps slip down and before you know it you are uncoupling the back and tossing it off, needing as little clothing between the two of you as possible. Bucky reaches for his pants and has them shoved down and off as you remove yours. Standing above you in only black boxer briefs you see the outline of his cock, hard and aching against his boxers. Your mouth waters and yet you are slightly afraid because you can tell he is big. Bigger than any man you’ve been with. Bucky settles on the bed between your legs and slips his hands in the waistband of your panties, waiting for permission, you nod and he has them down you leg and scattered with the rest of the clothes. You sit up and kneel in front of where he kneels on the bed, pulling you closer by the small of your back, Bucky kisses you. You wrap your hands around his waist and slip one hand down his boxers, squeezing his ass before waiting for permission to pull them down. He nods, not wanting to release your lips. When nothing is left between your bodies you lay back in Bucky’s arms and he settles between your legs. Rolling his hips against yours and giving you both friction where you desperately need it. Your moan echos off the walls and he smiles, knowing he is the cause. Bucky kisses down your body and ends up laying between you legs as he licks and sucks on your clit, gently teasing your pussy with a fingertip before pushing all the way in and devoting himself to making you cum on his face. You hands play with his hair as his other hand palms your breast. It’s so fast and so good, you can’t help but moan his name as you cum, squirting on his tongue. “Bucky!! Oh-fffffuuuuc- yes!!” He smirks up at you which makes you cum again. He moans and hums against you as he brings you down. He kisses up your body and settles between you legs.

“I can grab a condom if you want.” Bucky says as he is already reaching into his bedside table to grab one.

“I’m on the pill and I’m clean, I haven’t been with anyone in about a year.” You explain. Bucky nods and takes a shuddering breath before he kisses you again.

“I’m clean too, and it’s been even longer for me.” He gives a weak little smile and you caress the side of his face before you gently kiss his lips.

“Never would have guessed with what that mouth just did to me.” You tease, trying to lighten the mood while letting him know he’s still got it. Bucky laughs and kisses you again as he lines himself up with you. Slowly pushing in and watching your face for pain as he bottoms out. “Mmhm ffffuc- yyyeeesss!” you moan at the stretch. Bucky kisses you again and slowly starts to move his hips, in and out, making sure to hit that spot inside of you over and over again. At first he is laying on top of you, your bodies moving together and against each other, it was sweet and sensual. Then Bucky sits up a little and you take that moment to flip him over, pinning him to the bed with a giant smile on his face. You ride him as you brace your hands against his pecs. His moans growing louder and louder as you get him close to the edge. You sit up and play with your breast and you snap your hips back and forth, ready to bring him over. But apparently that wasn’t what he wanted, because suddenly you are on your back and your legs are over his shoulders as he drills into you while one hand plays with your clit. You gasp and moan as you writhe beneath him. “Oh! BUCKY?!?! Yesyesyes!!!”

“That’s it, Bunny. Come on, I’m not cumming till you have cum on my cock. Come on, baby girl.” That did it, his dirty talk and care. You melted beneath him as you cum, squirting again and feeling better than you’ve felt tin years. “That’s it Good girl,” Bucky coos as he chases his high. Pleasure washes over his face as he buries himself inside you, cumming hard and deep. “Mmhmm squeezing my cock so well,” he is in utter bliss and he lets your legs go and just lays down next to you, his softening cock still inside. He kisses your forehead and hums. “Good girl.” You beam up at him, the praise doing something new to you that it’s never done before. He kisses you before he pulls the covers up and over you body, still entangled and coming down from heaven.

“Mmhmm that was definitely the makings of a meet cute.” You admit and Bucky laughs as he kisses you again.

“Come on, let’s go ‘meet cute’ in the shower, huh?!” He pulls you up and into his arms you nod and he carry’s you away.

**********************************************

You stand at the door to you car, the sun rising beautifully and creating a glow around you two. “I wish you could stay longer but I understand why you have to go.” Bucky says as he kisses you again.

“My book won’t write itself and if I stay here I will end up participating in smut and not writing it, which is the chapter I am currently working on so.” You explain as Bucky lightly laughs before he smirks and kisses you.

“Well, feel free to use last night in bed as inspiration. Or the shower last night, or the midnight hand play we had, or ever the slow morning sex we just finished.” He beams as he retells the all the adventures you got up to last night. You blush and burry your head in his chest as he hugs you and laughs.

“I will call you tonight and see about dinner, okay?” He nods and you kiss him again. As you are about to get in your car, Steve’s car pulls in. He honks loudly and gets out cheering and clapping. Completely embarrassing Bucky and you, but you know it’s in good fun.

“Were you two safe?” He asks, adding more fuel to the embarrassment fire.

“Nope, not at all!” Bucky shoots back and you decide to tease too.

“Yeah, totally pregnant over here. It worked that fast! Get ready to move into the garage, Stevie, the baby is gonna need your room.” Bucky laughs and pulls you closer. He kisses you again and then sends you on your way. Bucky turns to Steve and you see them “fighting” as you drive away.

**********************************************

When you get home Natasha is dead to the world and you decide to leave her that way. You see a notification on your phone, it’s Bucky’s TikTok. Opening the app to see a new video.

“Hey guys! Sorry about no live last night.” He blushes, “I uh I met a really amazing Women and my night ended up going a little too well. And it may continue that way, so there may be a change in the live schedule as well as the posting schedule. She’s a writer and our ‘meet cute’ inspired quite a lot in her and I need to be available for any further inspiration.” He winks and then laughs. “But seriously, I’m still around, just maybe not every night anymore. Love you all!” And with that the video ends. You smirk and quickly send Bucky a text.

Message

Hey James, your new Women friend needs some inspiration 😏😉

Within seconds your phone is ringing, as you answer his voice is soothing and so low it’s almost like a purr. “Well, what did you have in mind, Bunny?”

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#bucky barnes smut #sebastian stan #bucky barnes #steve rogers #bucky barns x reader #bucky barnes oneshot #bucky barnes au

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hidtired · 2 days

Text

Unfortunate Timing Prologue

(Daryl Dixon x Reader) Masterlist

Description: You found out your pregnant early into your relationship with Daryl Dixon. To make matters worse? The apocalypse happens a few days later! (not fully canon)

5.7k words

Warnings (Pregnancy, gore, smut, reference to abuse, violence, fluff, walking dead stuff, ect.)

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 etc.

Pre Apocalypse

You had moved to a small town in Georgia to get away from your parents. Your Aunt Mary had a little boutique and offered a job. Your parents didn’t like you weren’t married yet, not even dating either. So they have been shoving men at you for the last few years. They thought by your age you should have been married with kids. They wanted grandkids. Your brother was married but him and his wife struggled with fertility. The final straw was trying to get you into an arranged marriage with one of your father’s business buddies kid. You had only just turned 30.

It had freaked you out how your parents made it seem like you didn’t have a choice. So you packed your bags, your mother pleaded for you to not go. You broke the lease to your apartment and left without telling them where.

You like the simple life you were leading now. Helping your Aunt's business. You lived with her because she was a widow with no kids and wanted the company. You had some interesting neighbors across the street. You had just driven into the driveway taking notice of a man fixing his truck. It was hot outside and his arms were covered in grease.

You walked into the kitchen where your Aunt was doing dishes. You decided to help making idle talk about how the shop was until you looked out the window to still see the sleeveless man. Your Aunt caught you looking, "Thought you came here to get away from boys?" You smile shyly at being caught, looking back down and handing her a wet plate to be dried. "Never said that... Just the one my parents choose. Didn't have time to look for a date when men were thrown at me randomly by them." Your Aunt was amused to say the least. "That's Daryl Dixon, him and his brother live there. You have to watch yourself with a Dixon. But Daryl has helped me with a few things that broke around the house. He replaced the battery's in the fire alarms for me a week before you came."

You gave her a sideways look, "You trying to set me up now to?" Mary laughs, "Fine fine, granted I do bake something for him every time he does something for me. Could just have a sweet tooth." You look back out the window, ‘Daryl huh?’

It was a week later that you got a call from your brother. You went on a walk to take the call. He was anger that your father was on him for a kid because you had disappeared. The pressure had turned to his wife who was already having a hard time with infertility. It was when you were walking back to the house did the conversation get heated.

"Grow a back bone and yell at them Mathew! Why are you coming at me for!?" He responded with his own venom, "Why couldn't you just do what they asked! But go ahead die alone for all I care!" He ended the call abruptly after. You clenched your teeth tight and closed your eyes trying to compose yourself. A voice called from across the street, "Ya doin alright over there?" You turned to see Daryl beer in hand with the hood of his car open. You sighed shoulders sagging, "Sorry for the yelling." Daryl pick up another beer showing it off to you, "Sounds like ya could use one of these." You put your hands to your hips before deciding to walk over. You grab the beer he handed you with a smile, "Thanks..."

You cracked the can open taking a sip. Daryl stare at you for a second before saying something, “Yer boyfriend causing you trouble?” You chuckled at the thought, making a small face of disgust at it even, “No, that was just my brother being an ass.” Daryl took mental note of that ‘single’. He huffed and looked back down into his trucks hood. “Oh trust me I know how that is.” You look at him as he refocused his attention to his car, ‘That’s right, that’s what your Aunt had said.’ You lean against the truck. “Your Daryl right? I’m Y/N” Daryl looked back up at the mention of you knowing his name, “Oh so ya heard bout us.” He sounded a bit disappointed at the thought. You lean to look inside the car, smiling over to him, “Only the things my Aunt said.” He perked a brow at that, “Who’s yer Aunt? What she say about us?”

“Mary.” You pointed over your shoulder to the house, “And she mentioned you might have a sweet tooth.” Daryl looked over to the house of the lady he often did things for, her niece chiming in again. “Always see you fixing this truck across the street.” He pulled a red rag from his back pocket wiping his hands, “Ya damn thing always seems to be breakin.” He took notice of the girl fully now. You took slow sips of the beer he gave you while starring into the hood. “Well if I have any trouble with my car I know who to ask.” You looked up to him with a shy smile. “I’m useless when it comes to knowing anything about cars.”

That’s how they both started talking. You watching him fix a couple spark plugs while talking about things. Getting to know each other a little. Like how you were helping Mary with her shop. “Ah, so you just moved here.” You nodded, “Mmm about a month. Have no clue where anything is and have no friends so…” you shrug. A breeze started as evening was setting in. Daryl hesitated before saying, “I could show you some local spots.” He bit the side of his thumb nail waiting for an answer. You had bit your bottom lip looking up at him and smiled, “Sounds like fun to me.”

He was worried for a second he messed up, “There’s a bar that everyone knows, real popular on Fridays.” You nodded while looking at him staring down at your watch seeing you had been talking for about a hour. It was getting late so you slowly started to walk backwards to your house. You smile with a glint in your eye, “Sounds like a Date… see you Friday!” You waved and all he could do was look on with wide eyes. Did you just- “Pick you up at 8!” He yelled. He was in slight disbelief at the out come. Had you been flirting with him the whole time?

You had handed him a tool before he could even ask. You had known how to do it all along and played stupid to talk with him. He smiled down as he closed his hood. ‘Oh you were trouble.’

When Friday came he was kicking himself. This was unlike him to go on dates. But he wouldn’t deny he liked you. You were also looking forward to a date for the first time in a while. Preferring it more than being tricked on to one with some guy your parents liked. Daryl probably didn’t fit that kind a guy they would. Oh but your kind definitely. Your Aunt watched you try on an outfit before deciding to go with a floral casual dress that went to your knees. She gave you a smug look and you only rolled your eyes. You had a long black jacket over you, knowing it was already cool outside.

Daryl knocked on the door and off you went in his truck to this bar. He was slightly nervous when he saw you dolled yourself up, and for him? He had lied to Merle where he was going and doing. He was desperately trying not to blow this, “Ya look pretty…” he had said it at a stop light looking over to you. It’s everything a girl wants to hear, and it sure made you smile.

When they got to the bar the bartender seemed confused to see Daryl with a girl. He was normally there with his brother. Mostly to make sure he didn’t do anything stupid he had noticed. “Well if it isn’t a Dixon, tell your brother he still owes me for the glass he broke.” Daryl cringed at the mention of his brother. You just simply took a seat on a stool. “What can I get you two.”

You had a few drinks you’ll admit. You tried a classic drink that the locals had. You were grossed out at the drink causing you and Daryl to laugh. He only had a drink with the need to drive you both home. You had tried to play pool but decided you were a little to inebriated at how many times you missed the ball entirely. You were standing in a corner of the bustling bar talking. You held a bow empty cup dying laughing at a story had told you about his childhood. Sometimes kids dumb actions, like jumping off a shed in a hero outfit, were just funny. You had lost a little balance at your laughing and place a hand onto Daryl’s chest. He only looked down to you putting a hand to your waist to steady you. You had tears of laughter in you eye, you fanning your face to no ruining your make up. He was definitely enjoying this more than he wanted to.

You had been at the bar for about 4 hours with Daryl. You now walked leaning into him in the parking lot. He had an arm around your shoulder leading you to the car door. He started the car and looked over to you, “Should have told me ya were a lightweight.” You gasped offendly, “Lightweight! I’ll have you know I’m just tipsy.” He looked at you questioningly humming. You relaxed into the car seat, “Ok, I’ll admit I haven’t done this in a while- might be a little rusty on the drinking game.”

You both continued to joke around until getting to the neighborhood. He back up in your drive way to later drive into his own. Him doing that thing with his arm as he back up. You bit your lip at the sight. When he parked and looked at you you spoke, “Thank you for this Daryl, I had fun.” He nodded, “Was my pleasure…” you had slowly moved closer crossing the middle seat. He looked down at your flushed face, mostly done by the alcohol. That liquid courage probably giving you the strength to grab him by the chin and slowly kiss him. He leaned into it grabbing your hip. You pulled back with a bashful smile,

“Same time next week?”

He had fully smiled at that, “Ya bet your sweet ass. Now get out of here miss ‘tipsy’.” You giggle wiggling your way out of the car. Waving goodbye with a stupid smile on your face. He felt his heart skip a beat, ‘oh he was real screwed…’

That night he even thought back to how you were looking at him on the way back. He had caught you leaned against the window with hooded eye. When he looked at you, you tried to fight a smile. Oh and how could he not think of the kiss. His hands dragged down his face at the thought.

This went on for a little over a month. You would see each other throughout the week but Fridays you would go out. Small touch’s and kisses here and there. It wasn’t until you ended up back at that bar that things changed. You were only 2 drinks in. You sat in a booth with Daryl. Head on his shoulder and hands intertwined under the table. You pulled away getting up, “I’m going to get another drink and you a beer. Then I’ll wipe your ass in a game of pool!” Daryl chuckled, “Let’s hope you can hit the ball with your cue this time.” You stuck out your tongue at him while walking to the bar. You had only been waiting for your drinks when a man slide up next to you.

“Whats a pretty thing like you doing with a Dixon? He blackmailing you?” The man held a sleazy smirk. You only look at him with disgust ignoring him. It was when he put his hand to your arm pulling you closer did you talk to him, “Hey back off!” The man’s grip tightened, “What you a hooker or something? Only way a Dixon could get some pipe is by paying for a slut.” You had yanked your arm from him, you falling back a little before landing against someone behind you. A arm rapping around you, you recognized it instantly, Daryl. His voice growling and rumbling against you, “Back off my girl.”

The man who was bothering you only rolled his eyes, “Maybe keep your slut on a leash-“ You had felt Daryl lean forward behind you before you even saw him sock the guy in the face. You had gasped and turned to push Daryl back from the guy. He stumbled and held his nose. You whispered to Daryl, “Ok it’s time to go…” You tried to push him closer to the door but the jackass decided to spit out another comment, “Ya let your bitch drag you away pussy!” You felt Daryl lean forward and resisted you leading him backwards but you spoke softly up to him, “Please…” His eyes briefly met yours. He looked back up to the guy who was probably drunk but, Daryl’s blood was boiling with rage. He relented at your plea and walked out the exit.

He was quiet as he walked back to the truck. Walking a little faster ahead of you. When he got into the drivers seat you had said his name but he wasn’t listening. He put the key in the ignition, turning it on but your hand rested onto his arm and you said his name again, “Daryl…”. He slumped a little and turned the car back off. He slowly turned to look at you. You scooted closer into him. You closed your hands around his face so he would look at you. You gave a small smile, “Thank you.” You gave him a quick peck before leaning back to look at him.

He signed and placed his forehead to yours talking a moment. He thought maybe he was gonna scary you off at the out burst. He whispered, “Hope I didn’t scare ya.” You chuckled shaking your head, “They opposite really. I was scared of that guy and then you came and I felt ok again.” He inhaled a breath before I closing his arms around you. He pulled you into him more and you rapped an arm around his back. You sat there for a moment before you spoke, “Soooo, Your girl huh?”

Daryl froze in place. Didn’t even register he said it in the moment. He pulled back from you, mouth agape, stuttering before he gave up at trying to say anything. You placed a hand into his hair playing with a strand of hair, “I’m your girl?” You had almost whispered it. Daryl cleared his throat, “Will you be?” You let out a breathy sigh,

“Yeah, thought you’d never ask.”

That is when you officially started dating. Sat in the truck, in the parking lot, making out for a good 10 minutes.

You were enjoying the new found established relationship. Over the next week was filled with your Aunt seeing you cuddle on the couch watching a movie. You had even managed to give him a small haircut in his bathroom, “Hmm, I think you would look good with long hair.” Sometime you would find yourself in Daryl’s room laying on his bed just talking when Merle was away.

Speaking of Merle he had later found out when at the bar that his baby brother started a fight over his girlfriend. He had thought nothing of it until he asked his brother if it was true. When it was confirmed he laid hurtful comments at him. ‘No one can love someone like us!’ ‘Like you really?’ It was a definite damage to his ego. But some of the things he said about you rubbed him the wrong way. It made him defensive, ‘She a good lay?’ ‘got you pussy whipped.’ They had yet to even cross that line.

You know understood why Daryl had not wanted you to met his brother at first. He made rude and sexually comments to you. Often either being sexist or racist any time near him. You mostly tried to say clear of him.

Then there came the drama that followed from your parents. Apparently your Aunt let it slip to your brother you were with her. He told your parents and now here you were getting a call from her shop. You picked up the business phone and before you could even spit out your prepared greeting you heard your father’s voice boom over the phone. “Now you listen to me little lady you’re coming back home!” You pause shocked. “Your little tantrum is done and you will do as you’re told!” You could hear your mother in the back telling him to calm down. You to in a breath and replied calmly, “Dad, I will do no such thing.”

He was yelling more. You had caught something about a wedding date and some name before your mother took the phone from him. “Honey, you need to come back home ok?” You really couldn’t understand why, “No Mama I like it here.” She went to go on, “We are just doing what we think is best for you. We just want you to be happy with a husband.” You had enough snapping at them for the first time, “You want what’s best for you. If you wanted me happy you would have listened to me! I’ll have you know with the time I’ve been gone I finally feel free. I even got a boyfriend!”

Your mother gasped, “In the town you’re in! What redneck white trash could you possibly find out there!” You were surprised at the way your mother spoke. But you were also mad at it. You angrily replied, “His name is Daryl Dixon! Fuck you! Never call me again!” You hung up seething. You had closed the shop a little early.

After the call from your parents you walked to the bar. The bartender seemed surprised seeing you without Daryl before asking, “Your usual?” You nodded with an appreciative smile. While waiting for the drink you noticed Daryl’s brother with a few other people. You ignored him deciding you would have the one drink and go home, not really in the mood to deal with Merle.

You had just finished your drink when you heard a commotion behind you. Merle and another were arguing. It was getting really heated. You had stood about ready to leave when the other guy threatened Merle, “I’ll kill you for this!” When you had turned Merle was smug looking and unaware of the knife being pulled from behind the man’s pants. You had yelled, “Merle!” In a panic you lobbed your glass at the man. It shattered over his head sending him to crumple to the side on a table. The knife slipping from his hand and landing in front of him. Merle looked down at the knife before looking up to where the glass came from, spotting you. You were shocked with your mouth open looking at the man holding his head in pain, before looking back to Merle. The few other men that were sitting with them getting up displeased.

Merle realizing he was out numbered started to run toward you. He had grabbed you by the arm and dragged you with him to the exit. The bartender yelled as you got dragged away. “Hey!” You had yelled back before the door closed, “Sorry Lawrence I’ll pay you back later!” Merle was still dragging you along to his motorcycle. The door had swung open and the angry men started to pursue you both. Merle had yelled at you when you pause to look at the door, “Get the fuck on!”

You had hopped over the seat and sat behind him. Not having a moment to hold on before he started to speed off. It wasn’t until he pulled into his driveway that you started telling him off.

Daryl had heard Merle’s motorcycle pull in but he wasn’t expecting to hear you yelling right after it. “Goddamn I’m already having a shit day!” When he walked out the front door to see you telling Merle off as he just sat there on his bike silently taking it. He had never seen his brother not throwing words back at someone. “Are you an idiot!” Not even that got a reaction from him. Daryl knew that would normally get replied by violence. It wasn’t until he spoke did you turn at his voice, “The hell is goin on?” Your anger soon crumpled into tears, you were overwhelmed and maybe a bit scared still body pumping with adrenaline. Daryl almost got whiplash at the sudden mood shift.

That didn’t stop him from hugging you as you started to cry. He shot a look to his brother who still sat on his bike. Merle looking weirded out at the sudden tears. "The hell you do ta her?!” Merle rubbed the back of his neck, "May have got into a bit of a fight at the bar with some folks. She kinda stopped me from being stabbed." He had felt you shaking in his grasp now. He knew you hated conflict, told him about the pit that would form in your stomach. But you stopping Merle from being stabbed? "How she do that?" Merle chuckled, "Threw her glass across the room! Knocked him clean on his sorry ass." He seemed almost impressed by you.

Daryl started leading you back toward your home. Daryl turning to yell back to his brother, "Whatever man piss off." He had gotten you into your house before you spoke, "My Aunt went on her Cabo trip with her book club friends. She'll be gone a week... stay?" He gulped, "If ya really want me to." You nodded, "I don't wanna be alone." He saw you were scared.

He lay next to you in your bed after you calmed down and ate dinner. "Want to talk bout it?" You moved closer to him leading him to put a arm over you. You sighed into him, "I was at the bar because I had a rough conversation with my parents. Somethings were said. Their the reason I moved here, to get away from. I saw Merle and then the knife- then all those men chased us." Your hand rose to pinch the bridge of your nose, "Just been a- a shit day." You move to look up to Daryl's blue eyes a smirk rising to your lips at the worried and tight look he was giving you. He relax a little at your attention. He dragged a hand up your arm to your face, "Merle seems to think your a badass now." He himself was a little proud to hear what you did. You grunted into his chest, "He'd better. Saved his dumbass."

You were talking for a while after that. Seeing the clock blinking 1am now. You were sleepy but enjoyed talking to him to much to fall asleep. Sleep was pulling at your eyes and a question that should have been a inside thought slipped out, "Why haven't we had sex yet?" Daryl was a little taken back but not to shocked at the question, he hummed, "Honestly not a clue, I like you to much to mess anything up." Maybe the tired feeling was making his lips a little loose to. He paused before continued, "I've only had meaningless sex. Nothing with feeling behind it." He smirked down to your hazy eyes, "Why? You tryin to get in my pants?" You chuckled adding a little shrug, "Perhaps. Take me out to dinner and we'll see how the night goes from there." That made Daryl's heart beat a little harder. Of course he has thought about it before just didn't know how to act on it with you. He held you a little tighter to him, goofy smile to his face, "Yes Ma'am."

Take you out to dinner he did. Nothing to fancy but by the end of that night you offered him to follow you inside. You were laughing while bumping backwards into things as you both kissed. You stripping buttons down his shirt when he paused face looking uncomfortable. You stopped at the look. He sighed squeezing his eyes tight. Reminding himself it was you. "Uh sorry, just forgot to mention- just look fer yourself..." You softly pulled the shirt down off of him. Revealing scars along his body.

You dragged a finger along one. You look up at him with round eyes. He looked away before saying, “M’ Daddy was a drunk.” You intake air and release it at the information. You leaned down and kissed the scar you touched. Everything turned slow from that point, more sensual. He rolled into you at a pace he never had before. He was used to chasing a feeling, getting it over with. But every time he would push into you he couldn’t help but love the groans you made. You sure loved the noises subconsciously coming out of him as well. You would move up into him. The slow motion had sent you crazy. Leading you to claw at him begging for more. He didn’t go faster but harder.

Your moans filled your bedroom. Daryl was sucking on your neck while rutting into you. He was huffing out air and grunting in exertion. The tight clench he felt around him damn near knocked the wind out of him. He had pulled out and rested his head on your chest while trying to catch his breath. You dug your hands into the back of his hair.

That night lead to many more like it. Which is what lead you to the current situation going on. You were in the bathroom staring at a positive pregnancy test. Not just one but three. You sat on the floor contemplating, 'How did this happen?' 'Do I keep it?' 'How do I tell Daryl?' You and Daryl had been only officially dating for 3 and a half months now. The first test had you in denial, the second had you begging. The third had you close to acceptance. At least you weren't ugly crying anymore. Before anything you needed to tell Daryl. So you called him over saying it was urgent.

He opened the front door and jogged to your room seeing you crisscross on the bed looking distraught. He kneeled down at the front of your bed looking up at you. You took in a nervous breath before talking, "If you need a moment after I tell you this, its okay, I wont be mad." Daryl's heart dropped to his ass, 'were you about to end stuff between them?'

"I'm pregnant."

His eyes slowly widened and he looked down to your stomach then back to you. He abruptly stood up then paused again. His mind moving a mile a minute but also not at all. The one thing to click was "A father? ME?' He slowly walked out the room. You sat there with tears burning in your eyes watching him leave the room. He paced back and forth hand running into his hair. The fight or flight in him was telling him to run, he was overwhelmed. Then he heard a small sniffle come from the room he had just come from. That stopped him in his tracks. He thinks he loves you. You both hadn't gotten to saying it out loud to each other. He didn't know what love felt like but this was what he imagined it to be. He hated to see you cry. Made him feel like maybe he would to if he didn't fix your tears. When he heard you he slowly made his way back into the room. Realizing you were most likely as terrifies as him, more so even.

You felt his arms around you making you cry harder. You had run the possibility of him leaving in your mind. Fully aware of his lack of a good father in his life. When you pulled away to look at him he also had tears going down his face. It was the first you have seen him cry. You had now put your arms around his middle and pulled him down to now lay on top of you. You had a tight hold on him and he you. You both calmed down and you knew he wasn't leaving, then he also whispered into you, "I've got ya. Both of ya."

It was rough that first day. It didn't feel real. You told Daryl how you were going to make a appointment in the morning. You asked if he was wanting to go with. He had slowly nodded deep in thought. You had said they could talk about everything in time.

You both had time.

You had an appointment in a week, the receptionist suggesting you go and buy prenatal vitamins before then. You also broke the news to your Aunt, she was supportive. Saying she would love to help with anything you needed. You and her walked a few blocks to a small store connected to a pharmacy. You looked to the shelves of pills. You held two big bottles, different brands, of prenatal vitamins. The sound of screaming alerting you to a disturbance in the store. You turn to your Aunt with a questioning look. You both peaked around the aisle spotting someone on top of the other, a fight perhaps?

Gun shots to your left making you jump. You turned seeing a man backing down the aisle beside you shooting rounds into a woman approaching him. You witnessed the women not even flinch to each shot. Your Aunt pulled you by the shoulder backwards down the lane. Another person who was pale with foggy eyes rounded the corner. It grabbed your Aunt and before you could blink took a bit out of her neck. You watch in horror as she dropped to the ground with that person on top of her. Blood from her throat being ripped out had splattered across your face. You screamed terrified. The lady the man had been shooting at now turned the corner from the aisle they were in. Now she was covered in blood though. You look down to your Aunt who had stopped moving. The thing taking notice of you. So you ran.

You had just seen your Aunt being brutally murdered. You ran out the door of the building pill bottle still in hand. You saw people running, cars crashing. Others getting hit by cars. It was a nightmare but you felt like you need to keep moving. You ran down the road back to your house. Dodging anyone covered in blood.

Daryl had kicked the door open to your house. Merle was packing stuff into the truck across the road. He screamed your name looking for you anywhere. When he couldn’t find you he ran back to the car, “I can’t find her!” Merle rolled his eyes, “Forget about her! She probably died someone where let’s get are asses out of here!” Daryl yelled back at him with rage. “THE IS NO WAY IN HELL IM GOING ANYWHERE WITHOUT HER!” The yell had shocked Merle. Daryl had never talk to him like that. “We can find you a new lady we gotta go!” Then Daryl did something more unexpected. He shoved Merle back. He had hit the side door of the truck, Merle was about to hit him when he yelled, “She’s pregnant man!”

Daryl had a panicked and pained expression on his face. He started to stuttered out, “I-I gotta go look—“ The sound of his name being yelled from a distance made him turn in the direction. He was relieved to see you running full speed toward him. His relief flooded by panic at the sight of blood painted across your face and cloths. He ran the rest of the way to you. Crashing into each other in an embrace. You struggled to regain breath after how long you were running. Daryl had held your face seeing were the blood came from. Tears forming in your eyes, “It’s not mine…” Merle’s voice cutting in, “Come on love birds we gotta go now!”

Daryl lead you to the car opening the door and making you jump in, “Stay here I’m going to get some of your stuff.” He ran off back to your house and Merle started tightening the cables to the bike in the back. He sat down in the driver seat and looked over to you. You had two pill bottles on your lap and you stared at your hands shaking. He then noticed all the blood on you and decided to keep his mouth shut. Daryl ran back throwing a duffel bag in the back before going to the passenger side. You sat in the middle still a little stunned. Like a bird who flew into glass.

Daryl’s arm went behind your head resting on your shoulders. You leaned into him. Merle had started to peel out of the space driving off into a direction. You heard little of the talk between them. Choosing a quarry they know to get away from the towns and head into the woods.

All you knew was the world was changing.

Part 2

Feedback welcomed and requests open!

Sorry for mistakes I to eepy its 2 am. I'm dyslexic and struggle with it and normally reread 10 times to fix mistakes but this is so long I wanna go to bed.

#daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #daryl x reader #daryl imagines #daryl x female reader #daryl fanfiction #twd daryl #norman reedus #angst #fluff #smut

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fraugwinska · 2 days

Note

Hello Springflower~

*slams envelope on the table and stare you into your soul whispering*

Alastor x reader where reader is asking him to show off as a fake "couple" because of one sinner who just won't stop annoying reader. Al agreed to help his dear friend and it started of innocent and cute with hand holding, kiss on the cheek- when SUDDENLY he kiss reader (in front of the sinner ofc) INTENSE and when he just stops for a second to kiss her neck she's like: "Al...? He's gone."

And he is like: "how disapointing"~

And just GOES ON

*leaves a heart cupcake next to the envelope and runs away*

For you - anything, sweet summer child. This just flowed out of me, and I was kicking my own feet as I wrote it. So... Here you go ;> I sincerely hope you enjoy it as much as I do.

❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️

Fake it 'till you Make it

The door slammed into it's frame with a bang so loud the glasses in it rattled. You panted, heart pounding hard in your chest as you tried to calm your erratic breathing. With shaking fingers you gripped the dark, wooden frame, so tight your nails scratched the furnishing off. You peered out of the yellow and red stained glasses, trying to identify the distorted shapes from the outside. Did he follow you? Was he still out there?

„What's...“

You felt a hand on your shoulder and reacted without thinking. You turned around with a shocked scream and whipped your arm out for a forceful slap. The sound reverberated around in the empty room as a slight stinging sensation ran through your palm. It snapped you back to reality and made you pause.

You blinked as your gaze went from your own, trembling hand, which now burned in an angry, red hue to a taupe face, the shadow of your handprint next to a wide, yellow smile. Your breath seemed to freeze as your eyes went up and finally met a pair of wide, burgundy ones.

"...the matter, dear?" Alastor finished, blinking before his face shifted slightly.

You stood speechless and frozen for a hot second, trying to recollect your thoughts before a tidal wave of emotion washed over your head. Embarrassment, followed by shock and, suddenly, by the sensation that started to build in your chest, the threat to bubble over in tears.

„Oh satan, Alastor, I-I'm so sorry. I, shit, I got you bad, I'm so sorry, th-there was.. and I was.."

You choked down another sob, words and feelings clogging up in your mouth. You rubbed at your stinging eyes, blinking away what you were trying desperately not to show. You thought it would have worked at least until Alastor's slender hands came up to wrap around your wrist and pull them away gently.

"Are you a singer, dear?" he chimed, his face unmoved, but his eyes softening a little. "Because that really was quite the hit! Ha ha!"

When you didn't join in his laugh, he immediately snapped out of it.

"But it seems my little joke was out of place, once again. What has you so rattled, little one?"

And this time, he actually made space and dropped the joke-y act, looking a bit worried. Which only added more pressure to the well in your chest. You squeezed your eyes shut to hold back any tears that tried to fight their way through, making yourself feel ridiculous.

"It's... there's this guy."

You swallowed sour spit down, licking your lips quickly before opening your mouth again, voice less shaky than you were feeling. "I saw him two weeks ago when I went grocery shopping with Niffty. He... he asked us for directions, I didn't know where the place he wanted to go was, and that was that. But ever since..."

Alastor's frown deepened. "Ever since then..?" he prompted carefully.

"...he kind of... pops up whenever I leave the hotel... he just shows up out of nowhere and asks me things. Follows me, doesn't listen when I tell him to leave me alone, doesn't know boundaries.." you balled your fists again, brows twitching down at the thought. "And today.. he tried to grab me, and I panicked, and I kicked him and he looked like..."

You looked back to the glasses.

"...it felt as if he was about to do something."

Alastor stared into you with these piercing eyes. It wasn't creepy, you didn't feel scrutinized or looked down on, and this wasn't the first time. Still, you felt that strange sense of unease in his intense gaze, like a cold hand was wrapped around your spine, running shivers down your back. It wasn't uncomfortable, per se, just... different. It had been months since you started your new job in the Hazbin Hotel as a bellhop, helping Charlie and Vaggie out in general. You weren't one to believe in redemption, but the work was easy, the residents nice and life, despite being dead, was good. It wasn't exactly peaceful, since living together with the radio demon sometimes had its challenges, but Alastor proved time after time that even if he could be quite eccentric, he was a good man deep down, funny and smart and interesting. Someone you could consider a friend.

That, however, didn't mean that he didn't spook you from time to time. He straightened his shoulders, brushed out imaginary dust from the sleeves of his suit, and when he spoke, there was an unmoving threat in his voice that he almost always hid behind his grins.

"He attempted to harm you?"

You furrowed your brows and stepped closer, leaving a little bit of space between you.

"I don't know... it felt like that. I didn't give it enough time to find out, I just ran back here."

"Smart girl.", he just commented, leaning over you to also watch the street through bulky glasses. You sighed and glanced out the windows. The sky had dimmed, red tinting the streets as it always did down here in the evenings. A few stray sinners stumbled along, either searching for a victim for the night or going home from their own sins. Still no trace of the demon. You could still feel the hot air of his breath on your neck when he bent forward. You grimaced at the thought of the stench of his sweat on the sleeves of your jacket.

"God... how am I going to go anywhere with him around?", you muttered to yourself, stepping back further and leaning against the table, burying your face into your hands. Alastor perked up at that. He tapped his cane against the floor.

"Oh, well I can't in good conscience allow my dear employee to fear the streets of the pentagram because of a silly pest."

You didn't catch his meaning. At least, not immediately. You shot a glance his way, giving him a skeptical look, furrowing a brow in confusion. "What do you-?"

He waved his cane, cutting you off, and put an arm around your shoulders. "I shall accompany you, then. When you need to go out, let me know and we'll show ourselves together. That sinner will get the gist then, I'm sure."

Your eyes widen. "Alastor, you're a genius!" you say with excitement as the thought slowly took root in your head, "If this creep thinks we're a couple, he might stay away."

"A what now?", Alastor asks, his smile faltering ever so slightly. However, his question was lost in your sudden enthusiasm, your excited rush of thoughts now loud and clear in your voice. "Then we should play the role in every aspect. We have to give off couple vibes, maybe show some PDA, nothing overboard, I know you don't like that kind of stuff, but holding hands might be believable enough. Oh, you're the best, Alastor."

"Yes, yes... so I've been told...", he replied with the usual giddy tone, although his voice sounded a little thick with white static.

You didn't pay much attention to it though, feeling a weight drop from your shoulders at the prospect of keeping the nuisance at bay. The whole idea might seem a bit strange to the others, but if it helped, why not?

***

"Well then, darling, ready to give the performance of your lifetime?", Alastor called the moment you exited the elevator. He was practically hopping over, grinning at you with a mixture of smugness, amusement and... something else. His smile grew, showcasing his pointed, sharp teeth with a flash. He was looking as dapper as always, dress coat neat and perfectly in place, cane ready at his hands - the radio demon as he breathed and lived.

"I hope so..." you muttered distractedly while straightening the hem of your uniform and peeking around the lobby. It was early morning and you had a not-so-short list of errands to run for the hotel. Alastor had been nonchalant about the trip when you asked him to accompany you last night, and you had half-assumed he had some matters of his own to tend to, or just flat-out backing out. But he just waved his hands and told you he'd be there at 8 a.m. sharp, which he was. In ALL the ways.

As it turned out the rumors of your plan must have traveled down the hotel grapevines fast and after a small bang and a hissed “Sssshhh!” from the left you saw the curious faces of Charlie, Niffty and Angel poking out the kitchen door, spying from afar and watching you and Alastor with bated breaths and loud-yet-shushed giggles.

"Don't tell me you're having a second thoughts on me accompanying you, dear.", Alastor stepped closer, wrapping his fingers around your hand in a tight grip, either oblivious to the audience or utterly non-fazed by them. You shook your head no, grimacing a little as your body tensed up in a bit of... concern. Not because of what you were about to do, no, it had everything and nothing to do with him and the... um. Hand. Touching.

"We can hear you, you know.", you hissed in the direction of the whispered squeals at his gesture, face scrunching up when a peal of giggling broke out and Angel audibly snorted through a quickly closed door. "Jus' be careful, tits, if 'ya go further than that with the oldtimer 'ya might need to buy some protection while 'ya out."

***

The plan was quite simple, but you guessed it had the possibility of either working like a charm or the idiot getting so mad, he could lose it and try something stupid.

Nevertheless, with Alastor on your side you didn't feel as paranoid and suffocated about leaving the grounds of the hotel. And his idea had worked out brilliantly so far. Not a single sign of your stalker, you had only met the usual faces on the main market road of the Pentagram City - maybe they stared a little more... okay, a LOT more, seeing you arm in arm with Al - and you ran into Angels' friend, Cherri Bomb, when you had to get some permits renewed. She had been friendly but extremely surprised and curious about since when you and Alastor, THE Radio demon were parading around 'like a pair of fuckin' newlyweds', in her words.

Alastor tried to brush her off with a monotone "What can I say? The good Lady just adores my presence.", squeezing your hand a little tighter, but his answer didn't satisfy her, so Cherri tried to pry into you, raising a brow and shooting you a smirk. "Al is a fun guy and interesting to talk to and spend time with. I like his company.", you shrugged, signing a paper, avoiding looking the cyclops into the eyes while you felt your ears redden.

It took her a good minute of blank stare, but when her grin slowly grew wider, you had no choice but to warn her with a hard stare and a small shake of your head. She rolled her one eye but she made a gesture of sealing the lips, still oogling the connection of your hands with impish delight.

At that moment you felt a squeeze on the hand, still in Alastor's grasp and his heavy stare from your right. His smile seemed fixed, a bit on the strained side, although his gaze remained cheerful.

"Everything wrapped up here, dearest?" he asked, tapping his foot impatiently.

"Almost done, just this document and the hotel can continue to serve alcohol. Husk would give me one hell of a shot if I'd forget that one."

You looked over to see if Alastor would pick up on the joke, but he was staring intently somewhere over your shoulder, so you just filed the form quickly and waved your friend goodbye. He quickened his steps, almost dragging you away as he paced down the street. You almost tripped over you own feet, trying to keep up with him.

"I think your persistent little pursuer has found us, darling. Don't look, just walk."

You sped up, also feeling a presence that had been on your heels a little longer than comfortable, a weighty silence behind your back. Still, as you rounded a corner, you just had to take a tiny peek and you saw, from the corner of your eyes, that the deranged looking coyote was gaining on you, still keeping his distance, his figure only a dark, moving smudge in the distance.

"Um... I guess now's a good time for a Plan B.", you said, halting in front of an antique shop.

Alastor's hand slid a bit lower, only his fingers curled around yours now, his warm touch tingling. "I'm thinking of it. Knowing your weak stomach, darling, bloodshed is out of the question?" he inquired, acting overly interested in a vintage gramophone showcased in the shop window and you snorted.

"You remember that?"

"Dear, it's hard to forget the amount of bile Niffty had to clean out of the dishwasher after you ran into my cooking...experiment."

"Not my proudest moment...", you laughed nervously, feeling cold sweat gather up on your back as you saw the rabid looking demon from the corner of your eye, creeping closer and closer. Alastor gave you a long, thoughtful look, before he spoke again, quietly and serious.

"Then let us both hope you'll stomach Plan B better."

Before you could think much, Alastor turned towards you, untangling his fingers from yours. His now freed hand cupped your cheek, and before you could say anything, he bowed down, tilting his head a bit to the side and gently pressed his ever-smiling lips against yours.

It was not your first kiss in your afterlife, but it might have very well been, seeing as your first response was an electric jolt up your spine. And this reaction wasn't even the weirdest part if the actual kissing part was just some peck. This wasn't a peck. A kiss with lips unmoving wasn't a kiss, it was more of a mouth-touching. This was something way more.

As surprising as the kiss was the tenderness with which he brought his lips to yours. It was gentle and yet so sensual that it sent small currents all over your skin, causing your eyes to close, goosebumps to form along your arms and a nervous flutter to erupt in the pit of your stomach. And maybe, maybe it lasted for just a fraction of the eternity it felt like, but if someone would have asked you later, you would swear he stole more than just a taste with the kiss. The slight push and pull between your mouths left the edges of your skin numb, the press of his smooth and heated mouth stirring up a peculiar feeling inside you that kept growing and rising and..

What was the reason for this again?

Oh yeah, your stalker.

Stalker.

You opened your eyes, seeing Alastor's burning red eyes fixated on something behind you, his expression intense with the hint of arrogance, a possessive smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. Something about that, the feel, the look in his eyes, made the back of your neck prickle. You blushed a little bit more but caught onto the reason the moment you realized what he was doing, trying to break the kiss to see where the coyote was.

You could only turn your head far enough to see the quickly shrinking silhouette of the demon vanishing in the distance, before Alastor brought his other hand to your waist, pulling you closer together, his tongue slipping between your lips, coaxing your lips to open again. Your own tongue responded and, together they mingled and twined with one another, sending the nerve-ending of your lips into a pleasant tingling sensation.

"A-Alas...tor...", you tried to get the words out as he nipped your lower lip, your eyes falling into those bright, heavy lidded ones of his, eyes which you couldn't stop looking into.

"He.. he's gone."

"Mh. Pity...", Alastor breathed with a soft hum, his chest rumbling at his words. His response had a mixture of sarcasm and amusement in it, but before you could properly ponder on them, your entire mind short-circuited when you realized he made no move to pull away.

Quite the opposite - with his hand sliding to your neck he pulled you onto his mouth again, deepening the kiss as his tongue slipped past your lips once more, completely shutting your mind down as a quiet, heartbreaking moan escaped your throat.

The fact that you two were in public, still standing in front of some store, all on display for anyone that might come down the road, didn't register in the haze that was slowly, so pleasantly slowly, forming. So lost were you in that fog of heat that the surroundings suddenly got distorted, leaving the alley, the store, the city completely. Your head spun at the sensations, a tremble raked across your nerves as your knees grew weak at the sound of his playful voice, echoing in the void you found yourself in.

"Let's draw it out a little more, darling, hm? Just to make sure."

#hazbin hotel #hazbin alastor #alastor #alastor x reader #hazbin hotel fanfiction #fraugwinskawrites #angel dust #charlie morningstar #hazbin hotel niffty #for the frauchen #quick fic

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chiara-hotel · 2 days

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𝐹𝒾𝓇𝓈𝓉 𝑀𝑒𝑒𝓉𝒾𝓃𝑔 + 𝒞𝑜𝓃𝒻𝑒𝓈𝓈𝒾𝑜𝓃𝓈

Characters: Blade, Kafka, Aventurine, Jingliu & Jing Yuan

Warnings: Spoilers for Luofu Questline/Blade lore, Hcs are really short, Kafkas is a drabble

- You both most likely would have met when Blade was alive on the Luofu

- A friend of either Jingliu or (I forget the name but the dead one)

- Of course you knew his inner circle of friends and what had happened with them, causing one death, one reincarnation & 2 mara-struck (including him)

- Though, you did not see blade again until he came back while the Astral Express were visiting

- There, he formally invited you to join him among the Stellaron Hunters, aswell as introduce you to the other hunters

- When you asked him if his mara caused him trouble he said that Kafka helps him out often

- You confessed first

- Kafka was sick of your obvious like to eachother so she “encouraged” you to

- That, or you just yelled how much you loved him before running away before he could answer…

You and Kafka were childhood friends, met at around 5-7 years old. Both of your parents knew each other so you hung out quite often, and so you followed her through everything. When she joined the Stellaron Hunters you received an invite to join as well, if you didn’t Kafka would still keep you with her at all times.

She confessed first too - underneath a sakura tree. Prepared chocolate, flowers, plushies, anything to win you over.

- In the casino, of course

- Most likely you were a poor soul that the struck big losses within the IPC - debts stacking up too far to count

- Just as you got away, Aventurine happened to be your gambling partner, such a dear he is listing out everything while playing

- How he found you, your depts owed, everything

- But he bets something, if you win all of your debts are gone - if he wins, he takes you out for dinner before increasing your debt even more

- But alas, luck was on his side-he won but dropped the charges anyway for a simple peck on the cheek, with the dinner date too

- After that he paid your charges and tries to confess to you

- He would have asked you out as a gamble

- A lucky man he was - which the gamble ended up paying off

- You would know either of them from their Quintet group

- Following them around like a shadow, hiding your feelings for the sake of friendship

- You met them either as a fan of the quintet or as childhood friends

- In Jingliu’s case she most likely confessed right after she was mara struck

- In her eyes she loved you-she wanted to let you know before she lost complete control of the mara

- Even if you saw her as she return-who knows if she’d let you follow her now that the maras stricken?

- That or-you told her first way before she was mara stricken

- Although when she became struck with mara-she ended things…

- For Jing Yuan, he would confess sometime as hes the general

- After the events of the quintet disbanding, everything seems peaceful and Jing Yuan is finally ready to settle down

- After hours he stopped by your place, invited you to dinner and asked the question

- And to this day you’re by his side

- After he became general he hired you as an assistant, Jing Yuan insisted that the position was necessary but Fu Xuan, Yanqing and everyone else knew it was just because he wanted you

#honkai star rail #honkai star rail x reader #jingliu x reader #jing yuan x reader #aventurine x reader #blade x reader #kafka x reader #jingliu #jingliu x you #hsr x reader #blade x you #aventurine x you #jing yuan x you #hsr

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frannyzooey · 13 hours

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Down the Hall

Frankie Morales x f!reader

Tags: Explicit, age gap because you know what I'm about (Frankie is your mom’s boyfriend, he is in his 40s, you are in your mid-20s)

A/N: Yea….so this is dedicated to @intheorangebedroom who inspired this entire idea and to @whatsnewalycat whose beautiful brain and writing inspired me as well. Thank you to @astroboots for cheering me on, to @bageldaddy for the super in depth beta and to @the-ginger-hedge-witch who soothed by "does this hit" worries — your minds are golden and I am so happy you support this utter filth. Ily ❤️

He thought that dating someone his own age would ground him, steady him. Not that he ever paid much attention to the age of the women he dated, but he thought with someone who had their own shit figured out, he might be inspired to do the same.

Unmoored and unattached since he joined the army in his twenties, he was pushing forty now and craved some kind of routine. Living alone gave him too much time for thinking, too many hours spent inside his own head. He knew that living like that for too long could lead to bad decisions and thought he might hold himself to a higher standard when he saw how they held themselves to one.

He met her at a bar – the most cliche of meeting places, but for good reason. She was out with friends after work and from the start, he was attracted to the way she smiled with her whole mouth. Everything about her seemed sensuous and fun, so inviting that he found himself drawn in and when he asked if he could take the seat next to her, he matched her smile with one of his own.

When she invited him home that night, he buried himself deep while feasting on that generous mouth.

He stayed that night, and then one night became twice a week, became three – and before he knew it, his lease was up on his apartment and he moved in. It was nice to come home to someone after work. To know that someone was there, wondering how his day went. To have a warm body curled up next to him in bed.

She was so independent, so driven. A corporate job that required her to dress in slippery blouses and pretty skirts with heels; the same he loved to strip from her when she came home all stressed out the way she did sometimes. And she had a kid – a daughter – already in college somewhere on the east coast, but that didn’t bother him. Dating in his forties meant people already had their own histories, and he was no exception.

Sometimes after she fell asleep and he had time alone to think, he still felt something that itched beneath his skin. Something that pulled at him from within, something that remained unsettled. He told himself that it was just an adjustment period after so many years of being unattached, and shoved those feelings deep down inside of him, determined to ignore them until he taught himself a new way to live.

Her breathing deep and steady beside him, he told himself that she was good for him.

That was what counted.

He was all for it when she told him her daughter was coming home to stay the summer between semesters. He liked the idea of having another person in the house – another distraction, another responsibility to take him out of his own head.

He worked odd hours, and during his off days, Frankie took up the task of preparing her daughter’s old room. Light pink walls, a creamy bedspread dotted with delicate flowers: his mind supplied an automatic image of the little girl that lined the hallway in frames. He knew she was older than that now, but the way her mom talked about her, he couldn’t help imagining a little kid.

Tasked with picking her up from the airport the day she arrived, he had just stepped out of the shower when he heard the doorbell. Frowning, he tugged a shirt over his damp curls, and opened the door.

Jesus Christ. Speechless, he stared at the prettiest woman he’d ever seen.

“Sorry I didn’t call,” you apologized, tugging a heavy bag higher up on your shoulder. “I got in early and thought an Uber would be faster.”

He stood there for a moment, just staring, his mouth slightly parted in confusion. And then he saw it: the shape of your eyes, the curve of your lush mouth. The resemblance stamped across your delicate features.

“I couldn’t find my key.” You stood there, looking uneasy on your own doorstep. “You must be Frankie. Or is it Francisco? My mom said you’d be here. It’s nice to meet you.”

At the rounded sound of his full name coming from your mouth, his gaze snapped back to meet your eyes while you hung there, clearly waiting for him to say something. His body was slow to catch up with his brain, the little girl his mind supplied was gone, replaced by the vision that stood in front of him. Still young and fresh-faced, but grown nonetheless and so, so fucking beautiful.

When you gestured towards the house behind him, he finally shook himself from the initial shock.

“Shit,” he apologized, stepping back out of your way. “Yea, it’s Frankie. Nice to meet you.” You gave him a half smile, and when you stepped inside, he reached for your bag. “Here, let me grab that.”

His hand dragging through his curls, he stood in the entryway and watched you make yourself at home: your shoes immediately kicked off on the doormat, your jacket hung neatly next to his own like it had always belonged there.

“Do you know when my mom gets home?”

He cleared his throat, trying not to stare at the length of your legs underneath the hem of your shorts. “Uh, she said probably around six? That’s when she usually gets home.”

You nodded, holding your hand out for your bag and for a split second, he wondered if he should bring it upstairs for you. It would be the polite thing to do, but the idea of entering your room now felt like overstepping. You weren’t a kid, you didn’t need him like that. The boundaries had suddenly blurred and shifted, and he whisked away the image of you settling into your bedroom just as fast as it popped into his head.

When you grabbed the bag from him, he felt relief.

It was easy to avoid you for the afternoon while you got settled. Instead, he mowed the lawn, prepared dinner, all the while with his ears attuned to the sound of you walking around above him. He felt on edge, anxious. The excitement he thought he would feel with someone else in the house had turned into unease.

He made himself an outsider, even more so when your mom came home. Not wanting to intrude on your time together, he stayed in the kitchen to cook dinner for the two of you and delivered it to the living room, placing your plates on the coffee table.

“Thank you, baby, that’s so nice.” Your mother scooted forward, tilting her chin up towards him in a silent request for a kiss.

Granting it to her, he felt her familiar hold slip around the back of his neck to keep him in place for a moment, keenly aware of the way you were right there. For a split second while his lips were still on hers, he glanced up at you and it was clear that he caught you watching by the way you hastily looked away the second he met your eyes.

He fucked her hard that night, his hand over her mouth so you wouldn’t hear.

She was gone in the morning when he made his way downstairs, and he was pleasantly surprised to find coffee already in the pot.

“I made extra,” you said, from your perch on the chair at the table. Sleep shorts high on your thighs, an oversized tee shirt covering your top half. The way it engulfed you made you look younger than you were.

He looked away, busying himself with pouring a cup.

“I drink a lot, so I made a lot,” you explained with shy self-deprecation.

“Sounds good to me,” he replied, sitting down at the table. “Got any plans for today? Or for the summer, I guess?”

Wading the tentative waters of getting to know someone, he watched your fingers play with the edge of the paper.

“Just relax for a bit, I think? Catch up with some old friends? No plan really. I just didn’t want to hang out on a deserted campus.”

He nodded. “Makes sense.”

And so began the morning routine you would both share for the next few weeks. Hesitant and quiet around each other in the beginning, sliding into something normal fairly fast. Your mother was early to rise and early to bed, but he had never been and neither were you.

He joined you in the late morning at the kitchen table, the curve of your soft cheek highlighted in the slant of light through the window. On the couch at night, a different kind of illumination from the light of the TV, yet hitting your cheek just the same. Your things scattered around the living room, your toothbrush next to his in the bathroom, your clothes mixed with his in the wash.

Your proximity was what he blamed for the constant thoughts he had about you.

Every morning he admired how rumpled you looked, how sleepy and soft and inviting. It was endearing, but soon other thoughts edged out the more innocent ones: thoughts about your legs wrapped around his waist, your slender fingers wrapped around something other than a coffee cup.

The want he felt for you pooled in various places inside him: his brain, his chest, between his thighs. It spilled down the shower drain and spilled hot across his stomach.

It flooded your mother’s mouth, and she was none the wiser.

Afterwards, she tucked her face into the meat of his shoulder, pressing a kiss against the skin there. Sated and content, she curled herself around him. “Let’s do something this weekend together. Actually make use of that pool we have for once.”

A barbecue. She’d been talking about having one for a while.

“We’ve been working so hard. I feel like I barely even see you, honey.”

Something akin to guilt tugged at him, thinking of the shifts he had been picking up in an effort to avoid you. Your eyes, your smile, your stupid sleep shorts.

He hummed his agreement and she kissed him in thanks, her breaths eventually evening out as she fell asleep.

Frankie lay awake, the image of your closed bedroom door stuck in his mind.

–

“Jesus Christ,” you murmured as you watched Frankie climb out of the pool.

Broad, bare shoulders, tanned swathes of skin, cute little dimples just above his ass. Water ran down over his tanned skin, the thin material of his swim shorts stuck to his ass and when he turned around to grab a towel off a nearby chair, you were glad for your sunglasses.

Fuck me.

The material of his shorts molded to every inch of his thick cock, the shape clearly outlined. Oblivious, he ran the towel over his curls, over his shoulders and arms, down his torso – and when his hand gingerly pulled the material away from his crotch, you memorized the swirl of dark hair that surrounded his navel and led down.

“Can you help me with the grill, honey?”

Your mom’s voice pulled your attention away from him.

Her boyfriend, you reminded yourself. Frankie was her boyfriend.

“Yea,” he called back, chucking his towel on the chair. “Be right there. Let me put a shirt on.”

The shirt he shrugged over his head was the same one you folded that morning. The material was threadbare and super soft, the muscles of his back shifting underneath the thin fabric as he sauntered over to the grill. You knew the way it felt in your hands, and at the thought of his body heat through the material, you pressed your thighs together.

The afternoon sun bathed you in warmth, but it was nothing compared to the heat that pooled inside your bottoms as you continued to watch him from your recline by the pool. His brown curls glinted in the sun, his throat bobbing with a swallow when your mother brought him a beer.

When his eyes flashed over to you, you finally looked away.

You saw those deep, doleful brown eyes in your sleep.

You felt them on you all the time: in the dark living room during family movie time, your mother curled up against his side. In the kitchen after dinner, when you loaded the dishwasher while he put away the food. In the mornings, when you pretended to read the paper while he snuck hooded peeks at you and drank you in.

Startled by his handsomeness from the very first time you laid eyes on him, your crush only grew with every passing day spent in his company. He was so thoughtful, so attentive and kind, but it was something else buried within his gaze that drew you in.

A barely restrained want that shone clear on his face every time he looked at you. A need simmering under the surface, you saw the way he fought it.

You thought about him constantly: imagined him crowding you against the counter in the kitchen, saw him pulling back the shower curtain to join you, pretended your fingers were his in your bed at night.

Born out of your own need, you pushed him. Played with the limits of his self control, desperate for him to make a move. No action overt enough to be blatant, the way he stared at you made you feel confident, bold. The want pouring off his skin when you hung around him was obvious and thick, filling the space between the two of you until he inevitably excused himself.

When it’s time to eat, you take a seat next to him on the bench, your thigh pressed hot against his. You waited for him to pull away, but he never did and the intimate sensation of the hair on his leg brushing against your own smoother skin made it hard to eat, though you missed it when he got up.

Your mother, one margarita too many and giggly and loose, pulled him into a dance under the stars that had just begun to come out. He humored her, wrapping his arms around her waist to hold her close, smiling at every murmured secret she slipped into his ear.

You watched the scene unfold right in front of you with a fond, humoring expression, and his eyes kept finding yours, flashing in the darkness.

You pretended nonchalance, but the entire time, you wanted.

He took her to bed while you cleaned up the kitchen.

You knew he fucked her – you heard it sometimes. They tried to be quiet for your sake but sometimes a whimper would slip down the hall, the deep reverberation of a groan in the dark.

Climbing into bed that night, your mind lingered on the image of his wet swim trunks. The dark swirl of hair, the heft in the outline.

You wondered what he fucked like with a cock like that.

–

“Something’s going on in the Arizona market,” your mom explained, tossing items into her suitcase. A silk blouse spilled over the side, and you tucked it back in with the rest. “I’ll be gone through Thursday, maybe Friday? Hopefully not the weekend, but I’ll let you know.”

“Do you need a ride to the airport?”

Smiling at you, she stepped forward and cupped your cheek with her hand for a moment. “That’s sweet, honey, but I’m good. Frankie’s got it.”

Apprehension swirled with anticipation, the joint feelings settled low in your gut. You’d been alone with him before, but never for this long. Never truly alone, for days on end.

The man himself poked his head around the corner of the doorway, the width of his shoulders filling out the frame. He glanced at you, and then his watch. “You about ready, baby?”

She bustled around the room, tossing things here and there onto the bed and he looked at you again, a slight frown pulling between his brows.

His expression gave something akin to frustration, and for a split second, you thought it was because of the time your mom was taking. When you felt his dark eyes drop down the length of your body involuntarily and then back up again, you turned away with a small smile, knowing it to be something else.

–

For the first couple days, he stayed away from the house as much as he could. Kept his distance until he ran out of errands, until he drove down the same stretch of road too many times. He didn’t trust himself to be alone with you, and he hated himself for it.

Self loathing creeped in every time he thought about the way his jeans tightened even thinking of you alone in the house. His girlfriend’s fucking daughter, half his age. The whole thing was fucked up.

And yet, he couldn’t stop.

He felt bad, thinking of you suddenly being all alone after spending so much time with people around, but he told himself that you probably loved having the space to yourself.

He came in the shower that morning to the thought of your mouth wrapped around the base of his cock, and he was unable to look you in the eye when he saw you in the kitchen afterward. Your hopeful expression lingered in his mind all day as he stretched out the hours.

The sky turned from light blue to dark, and he finally caved. He couldn’t stay away forever.

The house was quiet when he walked in, tossing his keys on the entryway table. He crept around, looking for any sign of your presence, until he heard the shower running upstairs. Light spilled down the staircase, and heading into the kitchen, he tried to push down the thoughts running rampant in his head.

He drank a glass of water, listening.

The shower turning off (your naked body, damp and warm), your footsteps padding down the hall (that smooth skin, hidden under your towel), your bedroom door shutting (the towel dropping onto your floor).

He stayed downstairs, turning the TV on to distract himself, the air in the house charged with a magnetic pull from your room. He waited until there had been nothing but silence for the better part of a half hour, then dared to venture upstairs.

He’d just say goodnight, that’s all. Just so you knew you weren’t alone.

His knuckles rapped against your door, and he pushed it open when he heard you say come in.

“Hey,” you greeted him, slight surprise on your face. Stretched out in bed, the inviting cloud of your comforter was plush underneath your body. You paused the movie you were watching, and sat up on your elbows. “Haven’t seen you in a couple days.”

“Yea,” he replied, leaning against the frame of your door. His eyes followed a slow path up your bare legs.

“Work been crazy or something?” you asked.

“Something like that, yea,” he answered. His hand stayed on the knob of your door, an anchor that kept him from crossing a line. “I actually just stopped by to say goodnight. I’m gonna turn in.”

“Already?” you teased. “It’s pretty early, isn’t it? Aren’t you gonna live it up while my mom is gone?”

He huffed a laugh, shaking his head. “I’ve lived it up enough. I’m an old man, remember? We don’t do that kind of stuff.”

“Forty-five is hardly an old man,” you scolded with a smile. “You wanna watch a movie instead?”

You patted the bed next to you, and his face sobered. You didn’t see it, instead reaching for the lotion on your bedside table to work some into your hands and the image of you jerking his cock with that same lotion flashed across his mind. He frowned.

“In here?”

You shrugged, laying back down. “I mean, I’m already all set up in here…”

You left the offer hanging, and even though he knew - he fucking knew he shouldn’t - he found himself nodding.

You looked surprised at his answer for a split second, and then pleased.

“Let me go get changed.”

He walked down the hall towards his room, scolding himself the entire time. Don’t do this, don’t do this, don’t go back into that fucking room. Don’t think about how smooth her skin is and how much you want to kiss her. Don’t think about how her sheets smell like her, don’t think about how much you want to lick her cunt.

The thoughts ran on a loop as he peeled off his work clothes.

They echoed in his head as he pulled on his sweats.

They followed him out of his bedroom and all the way down the hall, stopping at your doorway.

You turned your head, looking at him expectantly, looking so fucking lush and innocent, so eager to have him join you.

He swallowed hard, mouth watering and left his guilt in the hallway, joining you in bed.

–

Pretending to ignore the heavy blanket of tension pulsing between your bodies, you kept your eyes fixed on the screen.

Stretched out next to you, he kept a respectable distance, but you felt the heat that poured off of his skin. He looked so large in your bed, so much like a man. His long limbs splayed out over your girlish comforter, his masculine scent filled the space and when he crossed his arms, you admired the way the hem of his sleeve stretched around his bicep.

Lightheaded and trembling with a heady want that ached between your thighs, you made it through the whole movie – until the room descended into darkness, until the credits rolled and the screen went black

Until it was just the two of you sitting side by side in the dark.

The sheets rustled when you rolled onto your side to face him.

“What did you think?” you asked quietly.

He looked down at you from his slouch on the bed, and your fingers twitched with the need to smooth away the crease that rested permanently between his brows. You would think he was mad if not for his eyes: those always look conflicted more than anything. Constant turmoil, roiling deep within the dark depths.

Not answering, he stared down at you for a long moment before shrugging.

“Okay, I guess. Well, have a good night.”

He then started to slide off the bed.

Disappointment flooded your chest, the tension that you’d been feeling for the last two hours releasing restlessly through your limbs. Already making plans to get your vibrator from your side table to use while burying your face into the sheets he was just sitting on, he stilled.

Your eyes fixed on his broad back, you could almost see the decision being made and he quickly turned before he could convince himself to stop.

Bending down, he kissed you.

It was consuming. The brush of his mustache, the taste of his mouth, the weight of his solid body as he pushed you into the bedding, draping it over yours. His tongue slipped into your mouth to slide against your own, and he swallowed the soft sound that caught in the back of your throat. Pushing himself into the cradle between your thighs, he forced them open wider as he deepened the kiss, and his dry, calloused hand slid underneath the hem of your shirt, wrapping around your hip.

You knew you should push him away, but your hands only dragged him closer, grabbing everything you could touch: the slip of his curls, the curve of his whiskered jaw, the rounds of his broad shoulders. You dug your fingertips into his sides as he ground his hips against yours and your knees hitched higher around his torso.

His hand wrapped around the top of your shin, pushing down to hold you in place.

“Jesus,” he breathed into your mouth between kisses, his fingers tightening in their hold before sliding down to touch everything he can: the meat of your hips, his big hand cupping your ass with a greedy squeeze. Need rolled off of him in waves, his touch betraying just how long he had thought about this and his mouth shifted down to devour the long line of your neck, tasting the sweet hollow of your throat.

Your pulse beat fast under his tongue, speeding up when he let out a groan against the sensitive skin.

“Take – take this off–” he sat back on his ankles, his hands fumbling with your shirt.

As soon as you pulled it over your head, his mouth latched onto your nipple. His tongue swirled around it, sliding over the peaked bud with a suck. His beard scraped across your sensitive skin, leaving a wet path that glistened over the plane of your chest as he dragged his mouth to your other breast and his heavy hand reached down to cup you wholly over your sleep shorts.

His fingers dug into the dip of your entrance and the heel of his hand ground hard against your clit.

“I can’t stop thinking about this pussy,” he confessed. His fingers rubbed harder, and he groaned hot against your skin. “I can already feel how soaked she is for me. How much she wants it.”

You nodded with a whimper, rolling your hips into his touch. “God yes. Please.”

He pulled back just enough to stare down at your face, his pitch black eyes sliding over your features to settle on your open mouth. “Tell me you want this. Tell me how much you want my cock.”

“Yes. Please, please,” you begged.

“It’s gonna be a lot, baby.” He wetted his bottom lip with his tongue, his hand working, working, working. “She’s gonna need to be wet to take what I need her to take.”

A fresh wave of arousal washed through you, and your sleep shorts clung to your center with every grind of his palm. His thick fingers nudged the fabric to the side, exploring.

“Oh fuck,” he groaned, releasing a heavy breath. “Fuck.”

His eyes fluttered shut with a frown as his touch slid through your soaked seam and kissing you again, he timed the slide of his tongue with the slick stretch of two fingers.

Your thighs opened wider around his waist, a whine crawling out of your throat when he pushed them deeper and when he started a smooth, audible stroke, you started to ride his hand.

You’d been watching his fingers for months: wrapped around the steering wheel in the car, loosely cradling the neck of a beer bottle, drumming against his thigh when he watched TV sometimes. You’d imagined them tucked inside you so many times, buried in your mouth or your cunt, and as he worked a third one in, you let out a filthy moan.

“I gotta work it open, baby,” he soothed, pulling your earlobe between his lips. “It’ll be okay. I know you can take it.”

His hips started to follow the rhythmic roll of his hand and when he seemed satisfied with how much you could take, he slid his fingers out, reaching to tear his shirt off over his head. When he pushed his fingers into his mouth for a moment, his lips wrapping around his knuckles as he sucked your taste off the thick digits, his hooded eyes took in the way you scrambled to take your sleep shorts off.

Following your lead, he dumped everything onto the floor beside your bed, and it felt like heaven when you felt his bare skin against the inside of your thighs. So broad, so firm and strong, his body pressed you into the mattress and you felt the hot, pulsing heft of his cock pushing against your cunt. You clenched at the teasing sensation of what was to come, and reached down to grasp him, but his hand caught yours and pushed it into the bedding above your head.

“Let me do it. I wanna watch your face when I put it in,” he confessed, resting his weight on top of you as he reached down with his other hand to guide himself in.

Sticky slick smeared between the both of you, and when the tip of his cock forced you to bloom around him, his eyes fixed on your face. Greedily, he devoured the sight of your mouth dropping open, a tiny tiny frown appearing between your brows and he thickened inside you, pushing forward.

“Fuck,” you moaned. “It’s so much.” So much more than you ever thought it would be, even with all the months spent imagining it.

He bottomed out and the air froze in your lungs, your cunt stuffed fuller than it’s ever been.

“Shhh,” he soothed, staying in place to let you adjust. “It’s okay. You’re okay. You’re so fucking tight, baby. So tight.”

Squirming underneath him, you hitched your knees higher around his torso and he rocked his hips to slide halfway out before grinding back in with a weighted push. He gave you a minute: a tense minute, a minute thick and full of wanting, a minute where all you could focus on was the stretch of his cock and the heated bulk of his body and the firmness of his chest pressed against yours.

He brushed his lips against yours, and gently rolled his hips.

“Do you know how much I’ve thought about this? About fucking you, in this bed?” His voice deep and breathless, it sounded overwhelmingly intimate breathed against your cheek.

You shook your head.

“I thought I was the only one,” you admitted. “I used to think – oh fuck – I used to think about you coming down the hallway in the night. Crawling into my bed and fucking me just like this. Just like I can hear you fuck her.”

“You listen to me fuck her?” His hips rocked forward a little faster, picking up pace.

“I can’t help it,” you whined. “The sounds – the sounds you make. I wanted to make you make them. I wanted to be the reason.”

His fingers pushed through the hold of your own, locking your hands together above your head and he dug his knees into the bed for leverage. Your breasts shifted underneath him, bouncing lightly as he fucked into you harder and his eyes dropped down to watch. “You are, baby. You are. I think about you all the time.”

Building steadily underneath him, your head pushed back into the bedding and his mouth found your throat, his teeth scraping against the tender skin. His hips never stopping their filling grind, you pushed your fingers through his curls and when he bit down with a suck, a slurred yes slipped out of your outstretched throat.

You imagined your mom seeing it, asking you if you went on a date with someone.

His strokes got harder, harsher, his hips snapping against yours and digging your fingers into the soft globes of his ass, you forced him deeper. When you clenched around his thick length, he looked down at you, wrecked and desperate.

“I wish I tasted you,” he groaned. “Next time, okay?”

You frantically nodded, unable to focus on anything but the bright, shining edge of your release.

He could see it, feel it in the squeeze of your soaked cunt and his vision blurred around the edges, his own want building at the base of his spine.

“You gonna come?”

You are. The sounds he’s making above you and the way he feels inside you and the scent and need rolling off his skin and those fucking pitch black eyes that have been in your dreams for months –

Slick dripped down the curve of your ass, your hips locking up underneath him and when you came with a silent cry, he groaned deep and loud, fucking you right through it.

“Tell me I can fucking come inside you. Say it,” he pleaded, fingers gripped on your chin to hold your gaze on his. His words punctuated by the snap of his hips, you nod your head.

“Do it,” you whined.

Your fingers threaded through his curls, it’s the tug that you give that does it. Coming harder than he had in his fucking life, he filled your tight cunt with thick ropes of his spend. Endless, smeared over the shaft of his thick cock as he continued to pump into you because he couldn’t stop, slipping out to drip onto the delicate sheets below.

“Christ,” he groaned, his jaw clenched as the veins in his neck strained above you, his hips stuttering. Slowing them into a languid roll against your own, his softening cock was still a thick, filling weight inside and when he looked down at you, you recognized the guilt that already flooded the brown depths.

You stared right back, holding him tight.

“Stay,” you murmured, holding him in place when he started to roll off of you.

You wanted to remember this. The hot press of his skin against yours, tacky and slick with sweat. The warm gust of his breath over your lips, the rapid beat of his pulse under his flushed neck. The wild curls that stuck damply along his hairline, the brush of his fingers as he tenderly thumbed at the curve of your jaw.

He swallowed and you could see the war in his eyes, something you recognized as being there from the start. His hand curled over the crown of your head, and you pressed a kiss to his throat.

“You can’t –” he started, eyes fluttering shut at the press of your mouth. “You can’t tell your mom about this, okay. We can’t say anything.”

We. You reveled in the sound of the word, your head nodding underneath him. A secret to share. Something for the two of you alone.

“I won’t,” you promised. “Just don’t leave, okay?”

You felt small and vulnerable asking, and when he looked down at you, a glimpse of the girl he imagined on that very first day tugged at his memory. Not the age he pictured of course, but the way you needed him.

The way he wanted you to need him all along.

His face nuzzled yours, his nose sliding across your cheek. A kiss pressed against the soft, youthful curve of your cheek that he had admired for months, he nodded with your sweet taste still lingering on his tongue.

“I won’t, baby. I’m not going anywhere.”

#frankie morales #frankie morales x you #frankie morales x reader #frankie morales/you #frankie morales/reader

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sebastianswallows · 19 hours

Text

The Little Death — 5. Patterned behaviour

— PAIRING: Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x Bene Gesserit!Reader

— SYNOPSIS: A Bene Gesserit gets left behind in the Arrakeen palace. When Feyd becomes the Planetary Governor, he finds her there in hiding. The Harkonnens don't traditionally keep them as truthsayers or concubines like other Houses do, but Feyd might have a use for her. After all, he's never had a Bene Gesserit of his own before.

— WARNINGS: none

— WORDCOUNT: 2.1k

— TAGLIST: @elf-punk @lowlyloved @pomtherine @slytherins-heir @babyofneptune

Give me the judgment of balanced minds in preference to laws every time. Codes and manuals create patterned behaviour. All patterned behaviour tends to go unquestioned, gathering destructive momentum. — Darwi Odrade

It was easy to fall to the bed afterwards, as if she belonged there. Because she did now. Feyd was still catching his breath when she curled up beside him, her knees brushing against his hip, their sweat soaking into the bedsheets. A Fremen would’ve been outraged at the sight.

“Cruel witch,” he rasped.

“What was so cruel?” she asked, trailing a finger through the inky mess on his stomach. “You enjoyed it, didn’t you?”

He slapped her hand out of the way — but there was not so much aggression in the move as there was a certain vulnerability, like an animal slapping at his master’s hand. Feyd heaved himself upward to get out of the bed, but she placed her hand on his chest and pushed him down again.

“Where are you going?”

“To wash myself.”

“Why?” she said, her touch softening into a gentle caress across the muscles on his chest. “I like you this way…”

“Filthy woman,” he laughed, eyes crinkling at the corners.

She couldn’t help herself and smiled. Even with his frightful black teeth — which in Harkonnen culture, she had read, was supposed to be quite attractive — his boyish nature came through to show something sweet and vulnerable. What a brilliant plan it had been to give him governorship over Arrakis… After Rabban, Feyd must have appeared to the natives like a heavenly angel. She reached up and caressed his soft cheek, his hard jawline, tracing the edge of his generous lips.

“Sleep, my na-Baron,” she said, laying down beside him, holding his gaze. “You will dream of pleasant things tonight.”

“Is that a promise?” he grinned.

She knew he was making light of his nightmares, and in a way dismissing them entirely. There might come a time when they would have to address them directly — if he was serious about wanting her to serve him as his Bene Gesserit, and if she didn’t escape first — but clearly it was not tonight.

Under her soft caresses, Feyd fell asleep quite fast. She followed, slipping first into a meditation, and then into the land of dreams. And even in her sleep, the only thing she felt, and saw, and tasted, was his body.

When she woke up the next morning, she noticed she’d been moved. She was higher on the bed now, laying against the multitude of pillows, and all covered up. Feyd was sitting on the edge, getting ready.

“You were cold,” he said without even turning. His hearing was better than she thought… “And, for that matter, so was I.”

“You tucked me in?” she smiled. “How sweet of you…”

“None of that,” he said roughly, turning to level a cold stare at her. “You did a very naughty thing last night. We’re going to have to… discuss it. But not right now.”

She swallowed the knot in her throat and nodded, but deep down she was already preparing for how to turn things to her favour next. He loves pain, she told herself. That is his lever. Use it.

As he continued to get dressed, she watched him. He wasn’t very good at it — probably was used to servants helping him, and they weren’t here right now — but he knew well enough how to put his armour on. She was almost tempted to help him, but then she remembered that she was supposed to have a different purpose.

“I suppose I should get dressed as well,” she said as she slinked off the bed.

“Why is that?”

“I serve you now. I should be there with you. To advise you.”

“Advise me?” he chuckled. “What do you know of military strategy?”

More than you, she thought, but she wasn’t even sure that was completely true. It was a mystery to her, what Harkonnens taught their young.

“I know Arrakis,” she said, coming to sit beside him. They cut a striking picture, him in his black armour and her in her naked skin, both looking equally confident. “And perhaps, my lord na-Baron, you can learn more about what a Bene Gesserit can do.”

“Or what she can’t do,” he muttered. But there was already a surrender in his gaze. He had decided to bring her along, now he only had to decide how to admit it. “No talking about me,” he pointed out. “To anyone.”

“Of course.”

“And no bragging about… about —”

“I wouldn’t dare.”

He chuckled. “I’ve heard that one before. I didn’t believe it back then, either.”

She didn’t miss the strange glances the other servants gave as she passed by, close behind Feyd-Rautha. They had breakfast together in a lavish dining hall, one with a long, black table and lights suspended high above. She’d never seen this room before…

His brother, Rabban, wasn’t there, and neither was the Baron.

“Do you always eat alone, my lord?” she asked him, sitting somewhere in the centre of the table, a respectable number of seats away, while Feyd sat at the head.

“Depends on what I’m eating,” he answered with a grin. “Besides, I’m not alone today, am I?”

“No,” she smiled. “You are not.”

He didn’t speak for the rest of the meal. He ate, in fact, in a hurry, eyeing her critically every now and then, judging her for how slowly she was chewing. And when he finished, he got up without even considering her presence. He paused in the doorway as he heard her scrambling to get up and follow, and bowed his head — he was suddenly regretful. Another habit of eating alone was, perhaps, his lack of consideration for others. He’d completely forgotten her by the time he finished breakfast…

She joined at his side without complaint, happy to already be doing her service: teaching him healthy new habits. Feyd looked at her quietly for a moment, and then they left together.

The day was spent in a strategy meeting, which he started without giving the time to any of his generals to question why she was there. The sight of a Bene Gesserit among the Harkonnen must’ve been rare indeed — or even that of a woman who wasn’t a slave or a serving girl.

They spoke their jagged language, and in phrases that were blissfully short. It was easy enough for her to understand even without a full vocabulary.

“Push them to the edge,” said Feyd as he stood above the map, fiddling with a neat little blade in his hands, a shiny thing of white silver. “The worms will finish what the storms do not.”

“Yes, sir, na-Baron.”

“Search scouting parties up ahead before you send in more harvesters. And I want a map of the richest spice fields by tomorrow morning.”

“Er, yes, yes sir.”

She eyed all the proceedings in silence, and in the mist of fear and anxiety, the other men completely forgot her. Their minds were so easy to read, their emotions so clear on their faces, on their hands, in the way they held themselves… And in their centre, Feyd, speaking to them as if they were Ixian automatons without any thought or feeling.

She waited for the meeting to be over before she finally joined his side and spoke.

“That was productive.”

“Was it?” he sighed, bracing his arms against the table. The door closed with finality behind his frightened generals. “I didn’t know you spoke our language,” he noted with a cocked brow.

“I am learning,” she smiled.

“Rabban left me a complete mess. It will take months to undo it.”

“Years. And you don’t have as much time as you think.”

“Really? Well, speak plainly, now.”

She turned, leaning lightly against the table so that she could better look at him. He was less sure of himself now than he had been around his men…

“If you push the Fremen too hard, they could go south. It is out of reach for us, out of control.”

“Nothing survives out there.”

“How do you know, if nobody’s ever been there but Fremen?”

He bit his lip and frowned, but didn’t disagree. “And you would do, what?”

“Relax the attacks. Give them a false sense of security. Bait them into —”

“Into exposing themselves…”

“Exactly.”

“But these savages won’t do that. They know we’ve got superior firepower. Their strength lies in their secret tactics.”

She shrugged. “You have a point…”

“But if… if we had to approach this like a fight between a stronger man and a weaker man…” he said, thinking out loud as he began to pace.

She looked at him and said nothing, letting the ideas germinate in his head.

“It’s late, it’s hot,” he sighed. “I’ll think about it more tomorrow.”

“Yes, my lord na-Baron. You still haven’t even had lunch.”

“I’ll have dinner. We’ll have dinner.”

“Another thing though… That map you requested.”

“What about it?”

“The spice fields on Arrakis are highly changeable and depend on many variables. It can take days for someone to calculate their frequency. Less if you had a Mentat. Or a thinking machine…”

Feyd chuckled. “Worried? Since when do you care about the fate of my men?”

“I don’t care about his fate. I care about whether he provides you with false information just to save his neck.”

“Hm… I’ll see what he brings me tomorrow,” he smirked, looking pointedly at her, “and maybe have you look at it.”

She paused, already unhappy with the charge she was given. Mathematical calculations were not her strong suit, but she understood she needed to submit to Feyd’s testing if she expected to be kept around.

“Yes, my lord,” she said with a light bow.

“Now, then. Let’s eat.”

She could already tell that his habits were changing. He watched her more closely and was clearly thinking about her, considering her from every angle. Although Feyd-Rautha made no effort to hide what he was feeling, she found it hard to pinpoint just what was going through his head that evening.

She met his gaze with more confidence than she felt but allowed him to watch her openly too, letting him enjoy the moments of peace between them. He seemed to only like speaking to her when the servants left the room.

“You like to watch, don’t you?” he asked, leaning back against his tall, elegant seat.

“I believe you’ve been doing the watching, my na-Baron,” she smirked.

“No, no, you know what I mean… I mean throughout the day. Us. All of us. You’re learning our language now? You’re studying our strategies. You think, you don’t speak…” he listed, his cold eyes set on her as their meals waited untouched before them. “Until my generals have gone…”

“Of course. I would not have them think your orders can be questioned.”

“Even though you question them.”

“That’s only for you to know,” she smiled.

Feyd smiled back. He suspected her of many things — both past and future betrayals — but in that moment, he appreciated her.

“Are you trying to learn more about me, my na-Baron?”

“Why not? You’re learning about us.”

“I think you’ll find me less inscrutable. If you wish to know something, simply ask.”

Feyd nodded and turned his attention to his plate at last. He cut into the meat, he moved the garnishings around, but before he could bring it to his lips he set the fork down loudly and looked up at her again.

“Why did you do that to me last night?” he quickly asked.

“Because you liked it.”

“Don’t play dumb with me. You’re not as good at it as you think. How did you know I would like it?”

She set her knife and fork down too, and let her wrists rest upon the table. He was pulling her into something she wasn’t sure she wanted to confess, and she knew she couldn’t get him to forget it without using those Bene Gesserit tricks he hated so much. Perhaps there was a way to still turn this around in her favour…

“I merely recognised what I knew so well,” she answered quietly, her voice floating through the penumbra toward him.

“And where did you recognise it from?”

“From myself.”

Feyd leaned back again, his lips pulled into a grin. There was doubt in his eyes, but the rest of him seemed so intrigued, so glad about this new development, that she could almost guess what he was going to say next.

He’ll want to see it, she thought. He’ll want to see me like that. Exposed. Vulnerable before him.

“Show me,” he said, confirming everything.

#Feyd #Feyd Rautha Harkonnen #Feyd Rautha #Dune #Dune part 2 #Dune fanfiction #Dune imagine #Feyd Rautha x reader #Feyd x reader #Feyd Rautha fanfic #Feyd Rautha imagine #sswallow;fanfics #sswallow;made a thing #fanfic;littledeath

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polly-pocket13 · 2 days

Text

You are the best.

Hey Y/N, can we talk?

You received this message from Bakugou a few minutes ago, and you were still staring at your mobile phone. You start to get anxious.

Did he find out about your crush on him?

No, you didn't make it obvious.

Right?

Sure, come to my Room.

You finally responded to his text.

A couple of Minutes later, he was already knocking on your door.

“Please come in,” you instructed him.

He greeted you with a, “Hey, Dwarf.”

This piece of shit always called you Dwarf just to make you angry.

You rolled your eyes and said, “I told you not to call me Dwarf.”

“But it is kind of cute when you are annoyed about it, Dwarf.” he said with a big smirk across his face.

You immediately began to blush after he called you cute.

“You are the biggest asshole, I have ever met, Bakugou. What do you want?,” you asked him.

He told you, “Calm down, aggressive gnome,” and sat down on your bed.

“I need your help.”, he said you, kind of nervous.

“My Help? Why do you need my help?” you asked him confused.

Bakugou asking for help?

He has never asked someone for help.

Like never.

“It's about a girl, and you're a girl,” he started to explain.

About a girl?

So he likes a girl?

Is this girl you?

It must be you, he is hanging out a lot with you.

And there is this thing.

This special connection between you two.

“You can help me with that. Right?” he asked you and interrupted your thoughts.

“Excuse me, what did you say?" you asked confused because you were stuck in your thoughts before.

“Y/N, it is essential to me. So, can you please listen to me? I want to tell the girl that I like her. Like, really like her.” he told you now once again.

Again, a million thoughts flooded your mind.

He is in love with a girl.

Is it possible that you are this person?

You need text Y/BF (Your Best Friend)

You cleared your throat and started talking to him, “Just tell her you like her. It is not that damn hard.”

Now he is the one who rolls his eyes. “I want to make it special,” he responded to you with annoyance.

Make it Special?

You never thought that Bakugou is romantic.

“You want to make something special.” you repeated and started thinking.

Several moments later, you said, “Maybe you could go for a walk with her and buy her some flowers. Actually, I never thought about these kinds of things”

“Don't you think this is kind of basic?” he asked you.

“I don't know. I would enjoy it.” you told him and shrugged your shoulders.

“Well, thank you for your help. I must get these fucking flowers before the store closes. I definitely need to tell her today that I like her” he said and had already left your room.

After he left your room, you took a deep breath.

Is he really preparing himself to confess his love to you, or is there someone else?

Why he is in such a hurry to confess his feelings to someone.

You took your phone and texted Y/BF.

Do think Bakugou is interested in me?

She quickly replied.

Absolutely. I have the feeling you and him hanging out all the time.

After you read her/his message, you decided to take a little walk to clear your thoughts.

If you are the girl he is crushing on, he will probably text you later.You left the residence hall and started walking.

“I never thought you could be this romantic, Bakugou. Thank you for this special gift for my birthday. I really like you too” you heard a girl's voice say and looked in the direction where it came from.

You stopped walking straight away and just stared at Bakugou and the girl.

He confessed his feelings to another girl.

Your world fell apart.

You simply stood there for minutes, watching them walk away.

Why would you ever think that Bakugo might like you?

Your Phone vibrated.

Y/N she likes me back. Thank you for your help. You are the best.

A/N: Hopefully, you will enjoy it.

Polly ^^

#bakugou x reader #bakugou x you #bakugou x y/n #bakugou drabble #bakugo x reader #bakugo drabble #mha x reader #mha fluff #mha drabbles #bnha x reader #bnha drabble #katsuki bakugo x reader #bakugo katsuki x reader #bakugou katsuki x reader #katsuki bakugou x reader #mha bakugou #bnha bakugou #angst #bakugou angst

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widowmaxff · 2 days

Note

In overwhelmed, it mentions that Y/N used to be in a dark hole and how Wanda is afraid she’d go back to it. Can you write about it? Like what happened?

hope ur ok

pairings: mom!wanda × daughter!reader (platonic)

warnings: depressed reader, cryingg, bad thoughts, and sad sad things

a/n: okay how did you pay so much attention to what i wrote in overwhelmed bc i didnt even remember writing that 😭 BUT THANK YOU for the request i literally just ramble what was in my head but hope you like it love!

HOW YOU CAN HELP PALESTINE!

You don't know when it started, much less why it started. Maybe a few days ago, a month ago, maybe a year ago the signs that something was wrong started to appear. It was almost as if these feelings were always there, just hidden by a layer that was slowly removed and made everything more difficult. It seemed like there were days when you could easily deal with it, maybe ignoring it or just hiding it very well, you didn't know. But there were days that were more difficult. It was more difficult to get out of bed, your appetite was barely there, you didn't want to leave your room, just stay in darkness and total silence. Even though this silence made your head spin, it was better than anyone talking and making you even more depressed.

If someone asked the people closest to you if you were sensitive, you were sure that more than half of them would say no. They would talk about how you had a frozen heart, that you didn't cry when you watched a sad movie, that you didn't fall in love with the character when watching or reading a novel, that you didn't care when someone was fighting with you. But deep down, you knew it was a lie. You felt hard feelings most of the time, including when watching sad films. Maybe you just don't like showing the sadness and emptiness you feel. It makes you feel weak, worthless, and selfish, especially selfish. You shouldn't feel this way, not when you had the perfect life: a loving mother, food on the table, new clothes, and expensive sneakers. Then why?

You didn't really care that you felt depressed, you knew that eventually it would pass, just like every other time - even if that feeling came back some time later, even worse. It wasn't like anyone noticed and said anything to you, even though you were sure most of the adults around you blamed it on teenage hormones when they saw you sulking or just isolating yourself in your room all day. Maybe a few questions like 'are you okay?', even though they knew you would respond with something positive even if everything was falling apart. But there was always someone. Someone who knew that it wasn't just teenage hormones but something that was slowly consuming you. Wanda, your mother, was that someone, and she certainly didn't let those details slip.

The first time you actually showed that you were in a depressing state was on a random Thursday at six-thirty in the morning. Wanda didn't mind much in the first moments when you refused to get out of bed, it was normal for any teenager to not be able to stand school. But when you finally decided to show up for the morning in the Compound's kitchen, she was surprised. You had big black bags under your eyes that were tired and red, looking like you hadn't slept well that night and maybe you had been crying most of it. Wanda didn't take long to ask if something had happened and if you were okay, only receiving a murmur of something like ‘'m fine' before turning back to look at the emptiness of space. Tony who was nearby joked “Maybe the red eyes are because of something she used. Don't tell me you snuck out to a party, Mini Maximoff?”, you'd laugh on any other day, even replying something like 'Yes, I did some hard drugs at a party. How do you know?', but that wasn't the case. Stark laughed to himself after saying that sentence but soon the sound of his voice disappeared when he realized that you hadn't heard him and, apparently, nothing around you.

The second time was right after a mission Wanda had done. It was only three days away from you and everything seemed different when she came back. The first thing she noticed was that you didn't run into her arms when she stepped inside the Compound, much less respond to the messages she sent you a few hours earlier. Obviously like a worried mother she went after you, not taking long to find you in your room with all the lights off, two blankets around your body and how it looked like the things in your room had been in the same place since your mother left for the mission. She turned on the light in your room, hearing a soft growl leave your lips. You were awake and conscious, so it didn't make sense for you to want to be lying down and almost sinking into your mattress at four o'clock in the afternoon. She remembered when you were little and couldn't sleep if at least one light wasn't on, now it was ironic to think that you just lived in the darkness and emptiness of your room without fear that some monster would catch you, because no monster could hurt you like depression was.

Wanda couldn't count how many more episodes like those happened and lasted for several days. She was worried, very worried. She was afraid that you would end up doing something that would hurt you, end everything. It was obvious that your mother tried to ask you what was wrong, how she could help you, but you always said that you just woke up on the wrong foot that morning and that everything was fine. Of course, how were you going to tell her what was happening if you didn't even know. There was no reason for you to feel down like that and not even the absurd desire to just want to close your eyes and not open them again. And every day that passed, this dark hole you were in would get deeper and deeper. You knew you needed to ask for help before it was too late.

It was no longer strange when once again that week you had no will to live. You look at the clock next to your bed and realize that your mother would be coming to your room to call you for another day in two minutes and a few seconds. Just the thought of 'one more day' made you want to throw up the food you didn't even eat the day before, as that empty feeling made your hunger go away. But as much as vomiting, you wanted to cry, cry until you couldn't take it anymore. And it was no surprise when the tears started to fall and you couldn't stop. Even though you are not a loud person, trying to keep yourself in your own bubble, the sobs wanted to get out of your throat anyway.

“Darling?” Wanda didn't mind knocking on your bedroom door in the morning, since you would be sleeping, well, not at that moment. When she heard the choking sounds you were making to keep from crying, she didn't take long to run towards your body on the bed and get under your covers, pressing you against her chest giving the perfect comfort to let you know that you weren't alone. “Oh, my love.” Wanda has seen you cry, many, many times, but it was so different to see you cry as if you were drowning in a sea and needed help from someone, anyone. “It's okay, Mama is here.” With each passing minute it seemed like the tears were getting even bigger than before, but you tried to focus on Wanda's heartbeat as you placed your hand on her chest, making you feel calmer despite all the panic.

The lullaby that starts to leave her lips and go straight to your ear makes you start paying attention to the soft melody and not your terrible thoughts. The language Wanda sang in, Sokovian, was not understood by you, but you still remembered when she sang you to sleep on the days you had nightmares. It was as if Wanda was using her magic to calm you down, even though you knew she would never use her powers on you without your permission, but her voice was so sweet that it was more powerful than any of her red magic. Your breathing becomes soft and your movements slow, as if you were choosing the right words to get rid of that moment, but with your mother there it was almost impossible to lie.

“I wanna get help,” You murmur for just her to hear, despite there being no one else in the room with you two. “b-but I don’t even know why I’m like this.” Your crying had stopped, but you still choked to say a few words. Admitting those words out loud seemed like a challenge for you, and when you said them, a weight seemed to lift off your back despite not having yet deciphered all your feelings. And Wanda knew that. She knew how hard you were to avoid looking like a weak person even if you weren't, even if asking for help wasn't a sign of weakness but rather of improvement.

Your mother kisses your head, taking a few seconds before cupping your face and looking at it. “I'm so proud of you, my angel.” You didn't see pity or lies in the expression on her face. You didn't see disappointment and much less as if you were a problem for her. “I'm glad you want to ask for help, and I'm here for it, yeah?” You felt a little guilty when you saw a tear come out of your mother's eyes, but she was still smiling. The same smile you saw when you woke up, or when you told her some good news, or even when you told her a joke. Wanda never wanted you to feel anything negative about her. She never took out any frustration on you, never made you feel bad when you got a bad grade at school, or when you accidentally knocked a glass on the floor. “I will help you with whatever you need, my love. It will be slow, but I promise that the tightness in your chest will pass, okay?”

“I trust you.” She nods before pulling you into a hug that she knew you needed more than anything at that moment. The process would take a long time until you felt well again, you both knew that, but it was never too late. It's never too late to ask for help, because it's normal to need someone to pull you out of the dark hole sometimes, it's normal to not feel good all the time. Having feelings is normal, even if sometimes they are too deep, or too shallow. You just needed to realize that you were never alone, that people around care about you and will always want the best for you.

“I love you so much. Always remember that.”

“I love you too, Mama.”

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