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xxxdreamscapexxx · 6 months

Text

Lessons learned

Wanda Maximoff x Fem!Reader

Word count: 4.3k

Summary: One fateful day R decides that teasing Wanda is a good idea and she receives exactly what she deserves for it.

Warning: NSFW, 18+, lesbian relationship, teasing, oral to a strap, magic use, strap on sex, enchanted strap, cockwarming, a tiny bit of breeding kink, Mommy!Kink, top!Wanda, Bottom!Reader

Masterlist with all my works.

It started as a typical day in your household, you and Wanda waking from the sound of her alarm. It took her a moment to untangle herself from you, her arms and legs firmly wrapped around you, just as they had been throughout the night, and finally stopping the ungodly sound.

You groaned, unwilling to wake just yet, and if the way Wanda quickly took her previous spot behind you was any indication, she was just as happy to sleep in a little longer. Of course that bliss didn’t last long and the two of you started your normal routines. You, addicted to coffee, ran to the kitchen in nothing but Wanda’s t-shirt and panties, while she started getting ready for her day.

When you entered your shared bedroom again, coffee cups in both hands, she was just getting dressed and you hurried to leave the cups on the nightstand and you threw yourself on the soft mattress, watching her select her clothes for the day.

She put on a comfy bra and panties, nice, short socks, to keep her feet warm, she had a suit laid out already too, somewhere near your feet, but to your surprise she didn’t reach for it. Instead she reached in her drawer and pulled out a harness, securing it around her hips, while you looked at her with a raised brow. Then came the dildo, flexible and skin coloured, easily attached to her harness with a smirk as she turned to you.

“Don’t look at me like that.” She scolded, but her voice was giving away her amusement. “I’ve got 10 minutes. I have to get dressed.” She informed, looking at the watch already on her wrist.

“That’s so close to the perfect sentence.” You mused, turning on your tummy, your eyes following her hungrily.

“We’ll have fun when I get back.” She smirked, putting on her pants and tucking her shirt in.

“Tease.” You accused, your hand sneaking between your body and the bed, delicate fingers caressing your clit through your panties.

Wanda let you continue your little ministrations, perfectly aware of what you were doing, and happy to let you tease yourself some more, while she put on her blazer and picked out a few rings from her jewellery box, her eyes always darting towards you to keep an eye on your activities, but when you let out a little moan, signalling your pleasure, she was quick to crawl over the bed, turning you over and pinning both your hands above your head.

“What do you think you’re doing?” She asked, her gaze hardening as she looked in your lust filled eyes.

“Playing?” You responded with amusement. You knew Wanda always got worked up at the thought of anyone else bringing you pleasure, even if that someone was you.

“Not without me, you’re not.” She said sternly, leaning down to capture your lips in a deep kiss. “You better wait for me.”

“But you’re right here…” You said playfully, biting your lips, so you wouldn’t laugh at the dark way she was looking at you. God, you loved it when she got like that.

“I am leaving for work.” She emphasized. “And you’re not going to touch yourself. Is that clear?” She asked sternly.

“But you haven’t left yet…” You pouted.

“Don’t play dumb with me.” Wanda growled down at you. “We both know you’re not.” She reprimanded. “No touching. Am I clear?”

“Very clear.” You nodded, even if you made a show of pouting up at her. “But you better make it up to me when you get back.” You suggested, arching up under her, so you could press your body against the bulge in her pants.

“When have I not…” Wanda thought to herself, but chose to keep the comment to herself.

“That’s for me to decide.” She told you instead, pecking your lips one last time, before she pulled away entirely and made her way towards the door.

You only got up, when you heard the front door of your house close behind Wanda, her voice carrying as she said goodbye. You were feeling more than a little worked up by the whole situation, but decided that the best way to get over it is to go about your day. You just needed to distract yourself long enough for Wanda to come home. Unfortunately, you were feeling more than a little worked up and if you were going to suffer in your wet, ruined panties, so was Wanda.

The thing about her? She was masterful at teasing, prolonging your pleasure, edging, she was an expert at making you desperate and needy and she knew it damn well. She loved doing it too. But she couldn’t stand it when you teased her back. She was far more impatient than she liked to pretend and she hated having to wait for what she wanted. Which is why, on the days that you did, you often found yourself gloriously fucked out. And hopefully, today would be no exception.

When she checked in the first time, you were at the store, getting all the needed groceries, so instead of answering her text, you just opened your camera, pointing it towards yourself, pulling down your shirt, to make sure that it showed more cleavage than it did and you quickly snapped a photo, sending it to her.

“Is that what you’re wearing?” You quickly got a response, Wanda scanning the picture you sent her and seeing the expanse of your chest out on display for all to see. And sure enough, there was a man behind you, looking intently in your direction, something you might have seen, had you looked before sending it to Wanda.

She seethed, waiting for a response, but none came, since you preferred to ignore her, now that you had her attention. After all, she had done the same to you this morning. It was only fair.

None of it felt fair to Wanda though, as she watched the minutes tick by without a single response from you, and she was just about to send you another text, when you finally started to type.

“Sorry babe, I was in the car. I just got home.” You tell her, snapping another photo of yourself in your kitchen.

“Fix that shirt, or I’ll rip it, when I get home.” Wanda responds, her hands squeezing her phone more than they should.

“I thought you liked that one.” You type in, playful smile on your lips.

“Which is why I would feel terrible, having to rip it from your body, if you don’t fix it right this second.” She repeats, only to receive a third photo from you, this time, looking appropriate and she feels like she can finally breathe freely.

But the accidents continue, your photos getting more provocative and daring as the day goes by and Wanda finds it impossible to stay at work for much longer.

Taking one last look of the photo of you, sent an hour ago, with you naked under the covers of your shared bed, claiming that you’ll be taking a nap, Wanda had enough. She decided that you’ll be paying dearly for all your teasing tonight. Just as soon as she was done with her work, she would be heading back home and she’ll teach you what happens, when you provoke her.

By the time she steps inside your house, inhaling the scent of her favorite pasta cooking, she’s received 2 more pictures of you, one with you, prettily waiting on your knees with nothing but the thin sheet covering your breasts and a second, of you cooking in nothing but the t-shirt from this morning and a pair of panties covering your pussy.

Now, here you were, wearing exactly the same and looking even more ravishing in person, setting the table for her, a candle already lit. God, you looked beautiful. And despite your torturous teasing, it was hard for her to be mad at you, when you were being so thoughtful. Hard, but not impossible.

“Hi, baby.” You greet her, approaching her quickly and leaving a peck on her cheek. “Dinner’s ready.” You say as you take her bag and coat from her, feeling her eyes follow you intently. “And I’ve got some dessert for you too.” You winked at her and it seemed to be the last straw.

Wanda pulled you in a deep, heated kiss, her tongue invading your mouth quickly and her hands finding their way around your waist in seconds, getting you as close to her as she could, the feeling of her, her scent quickly taking over your senses and pulling small gasps of wanton pleasure from you.

Her hands roamed your body eagerly, exploring you and feeling you up, touching everywhere she could reach with fervour, hands easily sneaking under the t-shirt you were wearing and teasing your breasts. As soon as you moaned, she pinched your nipples, pulling on them slightly, only to have you gasping, but she was quick to soothe them soon after.

“You’ve been such a bad girl today.” She told you unceremoniously, pulling the t-shirt off entirely and attacking your nipples with her mouth.

“Wanda.” You squirmed, but she only sucked harder.

“Try again.” She told you, attaching her mouth to the other breast.

“Mommy!” You mewled, your hands gripping her shoulders, uncertain if you wanted to push her away, or pull her closer. Not that she gave you time to choose, because as soon as she could, she took them both and pinned them behind your back.

“What’s the matter, baby? Are those pretty nipples sensitive?” She asked with fake pity in her voice, her hands continuing to tweak the hardened buds, as she kissed you again.

“Yes!” You squirmed, your legs squeezing together in need.

“Well, you should have thought of that, before you decided to be such a tease!” Wanda countered, continuing her ministrations. “Luckily for you, I’m in a generous mood.” She decided, finally releasing you. “Take my pants off.” She instructed with a serious tone, pushing on your shoulders and guiding you to your knees in front of her.

You were more than a little eager to do as you’re told, dropping to your knees on the unforgiving floor and unzipping her pants, already knowing what you’ll find in them. It’s what you’ve been waiting for all day after all and you hastily pulled out the dildo.

“I said, take my pants off.” Wanda reminded you, swatting your hand away from the fake cock. “Have you forgotten how to listen to Mommy, hm?”

You were quick to shake your head, looking up at her from your position and starting to pull down her pants and helping her step out of them. Wanda finished the job of undressing herself, tossing her blazer and shirt off hurriedly, before unhooking her bra as well.

She made a show of taking hold of the dildo, stroking it up and down with a lazy smirk as she looked down at you.

“So fucking pretty!” She sighed. “Open your mouth for me.”

Doing as you’re told, you let your mouth hang open and your tongue to stick out, watching as your girlfriend made a show of dragging the dildo across your tongue a few times, before she took hold of your hair and pulled your face closer to her, pushing the cockhead past your lips and starting to move her hips.

“I hope you worked up an appetite!” She snarled at you, fucking your face eagerly, driving her hips deeper and hitting the back of your throat.

The way you gagged and struggled around her only made it sweeter for her and she held you firmly in place as she repeated the action, only stopping to give you small moments to breathe, before she started it all over again, watching the way your saliva wettened the toy.

It was only when you had started to squeeze your legs together and to moan around her dick that she stopped, looking down at your flushed face, wet eyes, full of unshed tears looking back at her with eager submission that she finally stopped and pulled you up to your feet.

“Get up, baby, you’ve made me such a lovely meal, it would be a shame if I let it get cold.” She stated bluntly, guiding you to the dining table with gentle hands, as you looked at her with a confused expression.

She took her usual seat and she patted her thighs, giving you room to sit on her erect cock.

“Come on, you’ve been so thoughtful, making Mommy a nice, warm meal. Now my cock needs warming too.”

Fuck, she looked both intimidating and hot, while her eyes fixed you with a stern look and you hesitated only a moment, before you followed her instructions.

You tried to take off your panties, so it would be more comfortable, but she didn’t let you. She pulled you towards her by your wrist and she bent you over the table, so she can move your panties to the side, teasing fingers probing your opening for a moment, finding you wet and throbbing for attention, before she pulled you to sit on her lap.

Taking her all the way inside you left you almost dizzy with arousal, but if she heard your needy whines and whimpers, she said nothing of it. She made sure you were comfortably settled, one of her hands firmly wrapped around your middle to keep you steady, while her legs kept yours from closing, leaving you fully on display.

“How does that feel, baby?” she asked, her husky voice next to your ear sending shivers down your spine.

“Feels so good, Mommy. I’m so full.” You gasped softly, your head turning so you could nuzzle into the side of her neck.

“It does, doesn’t it. I bet your pussy is throbbing around me so much right now. What do you think? Should we find out?”

You knew what she was implying right away and the idea of it excited you even more, making you nod in anticipation, yet you still gasped, when you saw the red tendrils of Wanda’s magic swirl in the air. When they were gone, you held your breath for her reaction and it didn’t disappoint.

Wanda canted up her hips, holding you firmly against her as she did it, driving the dildo even deeper inside you and you could hear a moan that matched your own, as she felt the way the toy moved within you and made your walls pulse with need.

“Fuck, you’re so good, baby!” She gasped, nuzzling into you for a moment so she could calm down. “Mommy can’t wait to fuck all her cum into you.” She smiled. “But first, we’ll have dinner.” She explained, her head turning to the plate in front of her and almost laughing at your disappointed whine. “You made all this wonderful food, honey, Mommy wants to show her appreciation.” She chastised you softly, picking up her fork and taking a bite out of her food, before she offered one to you.

You wanted to beg her to please fuck you, but she had already made her intentions clear, and with the way you’ve been teasing her, you knew that your best chance at earning an orgasm is by doing what she said, no matter how much she teased you. And even then, she could still leave you hanging and that made it all the more thrilling.

Yes, you wanted to cum, but you knew that you gave Wanda control for a reason, knew that you had earned this treatment from her, knew you could stop her at any moment and that she’ll give you anything you ask, but you didn’t want it that way. You wanted to earn it. Her control was intoxicating to you both and you wanted to see this through.

Having to sit in Wanda’s lap, being fed your food one bite at a time, while she was buried deep inside you, was a harder task than you ever imagined. Every shift, every little move she made, you would feel and it drove you up the wall with anticipation and need. God, you preferred edging over this. The promise of so much more was driving you crazy, yet you had to sit still and wait for her to finally take you.

Wanda felt the burn of desire and anticipation just as much as you did. She could feel you grind on her, you’re your inner muscles try to milk her, whenever your patience wore thin and she had to force herself to hold back and make you sit still, just to prove her point. And it was so damn hard. Your pussy was pulsing and throbbing, squeezing around her deliciously and tempting her to forget all about her plans and just fuck you, but she wasn’t going to give in that easily.

When dinner was finally over, she helped you to get off of her lap, something you were very reluctant to do and she bent you over the table once more, teasing fingers probing at your entrance and rubbing soft circles over your clit, while she inspected you. Fuck, you were desperate for her and she was loving it. Your wet hole was dripping with arousal and twitching at the smallest touch and she knew that only she could make it better. That was the ultimate aphrodisiac. That knowledge that only she could see you like this, only she could touch you this way, only she could make you such a mess… And only she could fix it.

For a moment Wanda considered giving in, instead of just teasing you and she had to remind herself why she was doing this in the first place, before her hands retracted, pulling your panties back to their spot. You whined so pitifully, knowing exactly what made her go feral for you, knowing that she could never resist fucking you when you got like this, but alas, you had to accept your fate as she instructed you to put on a movie while she cleaned up the table.

As soon as she joined you, Wanda patted her thighs, signalling for you to take your place on her lap, barely hiding her amusement at the cute pout you gave her.

“Oh, don’t give me that look now, baby. You started this.” She chastised you, her eyes growing hard as she took you in. “Come on, baby, don’t you want me inside you? I bet that pussy feels so empty without me filling it up, doesn’t it?”

You only gave her a nod, your breaths now shallow, as you pictured the feeling of her stretching out your little pussy again and it didn’t take long, before you were sliding down her length and feeling her arms keeping you down as you reached the base of the dildo.

“Mmm, I love the way you feel baby. So tight.” She murmured against your ear.

She was close to breaking and just fucking you, the way she’d been craving, but she knew you. You’d be begging for the same thing soon enough. And it was always so much more delicious, when she got to play with you, instead of just giving in.

Just as she expected, it only took you a few minutes, before you were already grinding in her lap, feeling the cock buried inside you move within you. It wasn’t enough in the slightest, it fuelled your desperation, rather than providing any relief, yet you couldn’t stop yourself. It felt so damn good.

Wanda tried to stop your slow grinding on her, her hands stopping your movements and keeping you still, but it never lasted very long. You’d start it up again, even more determined and more needy and eventually she broke. She grabbed you by the hips and she lifted you enough to slip her cock out, before she made you get off of her lap entirely.

“Get on your knees.” She demanded with a growl, bending you over the back of the couch in one smooth motion, leaving you open and on display for her, while she stood behind you with her cock in her hand. “Did I give you permission to ride me?” She asked sternly, landing a slap on your ass that startled you.

“No, Mommy.”

“No, I didn’t. You were only meant to warm my cock. But you’re such a desperate little slut, aren’t you? You can’t help yourself.” She stated with an icy tone. “Well, if you want to act like a mindless toy, I’ll treat you that way.” She promised, the head of her cock teasing your entrance once more.

She slid inside you easily, taking hold of a fistful of your hair and pulling your head back, helping your body lean against her as she started to fuck into you. She kissed your shoulders and neck, leaving small kisses and bites there that would have had you begging for more if you could form a single coherent word. But you had been so worked up, so deprived, that this felt like the first real stimulation you’d received in days and it was heavenly.

Wanda felt like she’s in heaven too. Your pussy was just begging her to be fucked, to be ruined by her cock and with each thrust, she was losing herself in the pleasure of it all.

“God, you have such a perfect pussy.” She gasped as she started to pick up her pace. “This pussy was made for me. To be fucked and worshipped and ruined by its owner.” She growled in your ear. “It was made for Mommy, right? For me to use it? For me to keep it all happy and satisfied?” She asked, her tone softening, while her thrusts grew harsher and more demanding, hitting deep inside you each time.

“Yes, Mommy, all for you. All yours.” You breathed, high pitched and shaking from the intensity of it all.

Her hands were gentle as she touched you through it all. She helped keep you upright with a hand around your middle, while the other cupped one of your breasts. She would tweak your nipple gently whenever she could, trying to focus all her energy on keeping her pace.

Desperate to feel her, you leaned into her as much as you could, her warmth providing comfort and security. You could feel yourself grow more submissive, your mind giving in to her control and letting her take over. She could feel it too. She could practically hear your thoughts quiet down and your body relaxing, turning more pliable in her hands.

“Yes, that’s my good girl.” She praised, leaning further into you, so she could kiss your neck and cheeks softly. “My sweet, good girl.” She removed a strand of hair from your face as she spoke. “You want my cum inside that needy pussy so bad, don’t you? Nice and deep, where it belongs.”

“Yes, Mommy, please.” You begged, trying to meet her thrusts as much as you could, feeling yourself getting closer.

“I shouldn’t be indulging you right now. You were a very bad girl earlier…” Wanda reminded, her movements never stopping. “But you can’t help yourself, can you? You’re so close, I can feel it. You’ll start coming as soon as I do.” She accused, smirking. “So I guess the question is… Do you deserve it?” She asked with a grin. “Do you think I should reward you, hm?”

But the question was rhetorical, and you both knew it. You were so wound up that if she didn’t pull out, you’ll cum, regardless if she allowed it or not. You were on the edge and there was no going back from it now.

“Oh, there’s that edge…” Wanda remarked, feeling your walls squeeze her in even more. “Go on, baby, you can cum for me. Mommy wants her pretty girl to feel good.” She gasped behind you, getting breathless from the effort and feeling just as close as you were.

Hearing her give you permission came as a relief, but it still took you a few long seconds to process it, letting yourself to really feel her ministrations, before your orgasm finally hit you. It crashed over you, more powerful than you thought you could take, your legs shaking and threatening to give out from under you. It was a sweet release and you let yourself feel every little tremor of pleasure, your moans growing louder and the chants of her name becoming indistinguishable babbles.

You could hear her do the same, you could feel the spurts of her cum as she filled you up with her release. Her hold on you only tightening, arms wrapped around you possessively as she continued to fuck you through your orgasm and hers.

When she was done, happy and satiated and knowing that you felt the same, Wanda maneuverer you both, so she’d sit on the couch and she pulled you back down on her lap, wrapping her arms around you once more and kissing your neck softly.

“There.” She sighed. “That’s better, isn’t it?” She asked as she settled more comfortably, turning her attention to the forgotten movie. “Now we can finish our movie.”

“But, Mommy…” You tried to draw her attention. You were feeling full once again and the orgasm she gave you, as mind-blowing as it was, did very little to help the neediness you felt. In fact, with each second she held you on her lap and plugged in her cum, you grew more restless and desperate for her to fuck you again.

“What’s the matter, baby? Feeling full?” She chuckled knowingly, watching you nod. “It must feel so frustrating, feeling me stretch you out, without being able to do much about it…”

“Mhm.” You hummed, nodding your head.

“Good. Maybe next time you’re trying to tease me, you’ll remember that.”

#writing #lesbian #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff fanfiction #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff x y/n #wanda maximoff smut #bottom!reader #top!wanda #scarlet witch

1K notes · View notes

kenlvry · 1 year

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LISTEN TO ME RN HEAT ME TF OUT STANS GANG + CRAIG DOIGN THE LIPSTICK TREND FROM TICTOK WITH READER

the lipstick trend with stan and craigs team

an, I AM LISTENLING ANON DONT WORRY. no idea what you mean by heat out though 🤨 , 17-18 and gn reader but use of her in tolkiens

kenny

he was the one who suggested it, it came across his fyp one day and he sent it to you "lets do this come over rn." "you asked, why dont you come to my house? 🤨" "why don't i cum in your mom" "HUH 😧" "im here."

you both definitely argue on what lipstick you should wear "okay but i don't even use pink lipstick" "well you should" "its light colour its not gonna appear" "well fuck 😒"

the process of kissing his face is wild, he would suggest to do his lips as the first place "KENNY HOW ARE WE GONNA DO THIS TREND IF YOU KEEP TRYING TO MAKE OUT WITH ME" "ITS NOT MY FAULT"

after like2 hours you finally get the lipstick on his face. now the tiktok was even harder he wouldn't stop laughing. you'd give up and he apologises while laughing

thank god you guys were able to finish it under 1 hour it turned out really good, at the end of the video he kissed you and you wanted to cut that part but he said keep it for like and its true the comments were all about the kiss on the last clip

kyle

okay he too wanted to ask you first but he was kinda shy and waited for you to ask and you did!! woohoo for kyle

"kyle wanna do this" "OKAY" he insists on picking your lipstick and picks the ugliest colour like what 😐

to him there was no such thing as an ugly colour buy it didn't suit your face so no way.

the process of it was calm, he at first wanted to put on the lipstick for you but you looked like a clown has mans never put on lipstick??

he watches you as you kiss him and reapply lipstick and then kiss him again, he feels like a princess fr 🤭🤭

he hasn't seen his face yet so when you record and he saw his face he laughs out loud, "LMAO WHY DO I LIKE THAT??" "WDYM"

you would tell him to take off his hat which he refuses but you looked too cute, when it posted cartman was first to comment and you can already tell what he commented "ew gay" your followers defended you two though 🤭

stan

stan blushes internally when you ask him. "sure im down" DEEP DOWN HE WANTS KIDNAP YOY AND KEEP YOU TO HIMSELF

"what lipstick do you think matches me best, pink or red?" "id say my tip colour" "WHAT 😧"

he has to hold in the very urge to puke every time you kiss him because like you look so cute omg.

he looks in the mirror and is js like "damn, i did it". HE LOVES IT SOOOO MUCH YOU CAN TELL HE'S BLUSHING ONGG ‼️

he even directs you like "do here next, okay now here" its so cute 🤭🤭

when you record and the camera pans to him, he smiles and covers his face blushing bc he can't contain it. it was such a cute video and got iver 2 mil likes. cartman definitely commented "i bet you had to change your clothes 10 times"

cartman

"cartman lets do this" "what." "wdym? cmon its cute" "y/n no offense but that is the most gayest shit i've ever seen" " NO ITS NOT UTS CUTE" "my reputation is at stake if i do that be so for real" "okay I'm asking kyle then" "lets do it."

he actually been wanting to ask you for weeks now but doesn't know how so winwin. you take your absolute time picking your lipstick and he couldn't be more done with "hurry up this doesn't even effect anything" "shut up cartman if i use the right one people will ask what lipstick it is and i get views"

picking a lipstick was already a big deal just imagine the process "ew gay not on my lips" "cartman 😐" tbh he wish he could just make out with you rn but yk how mans is

now recording is even more a hassle "JUST SMILE IS IT SO HARD TO CRACK A SMILE" "NOT WHILE IM LOOKING LIKE THIS" the most he does is wipes your lipstick off and then he just gives a 🙄 look until the end of the video

the comments are just him getting teased at clydes commenting "NAHHH CAN'T BELIEVE HE AGREED TO THIS" kyles is "i can tell that this took a long time" and then wendys is "is that cartman or a clone of him". cartman is pissed af at the comment, he told you his reputation is at stake 😒.

he actually has it saved downloaded and also is his live wallpaper sooo.

butters

butters is the one who asked you this " um y/n can we do this? 😣" while twiddling his fingers, "OKAY"

he's all giddy and smily during the process, after every kiss his blushes intensifies and by the end of it he is just.. 🔴

even though it is the most simplest video ever he has to have a tutorial, he is asking questions for everything man, how do i wipe the lipstick, what do i do, do i smile when its on me , do i laugh??

you tell him what he thinks he should he and he starts kissing you bc rn the sexual tension between you two is intense (to him atleast, he thinks thinks hand holding is already intense)

everyone comments on how cute he is and yk how tiktok is so people comment "does he whimper" "submissive who?" and hes likw WHATTTTT 🧍

clyde

when you suggested this he nodded so hard his head probably was about to fall off. "clyde you wanna do this" "DO I???" ..... "well.. do you?" "i mean yeah it's like a way of- yes i wanna do it"

he loves any lipstick you wear so he lets you pick. after every kiss he looks in the mirror and kicks his feet giggling and you just stand there 🤨

he also tries to make it a makeout session like kenny, when you kissed on his lips he holds your neck and literally makes out with like cnon we have 9 more

when you first hit record and yk how the guy has to wipe your lipstick off, nah he grabbed you by the chin and slams his lips with yours "WHY DIS YOU DO THAT??" "its called content,you wouldn't know with your 9 likes and 70 views"

well you kept the clip and everyone in the comments were talking about it "need a boyfriend like you y/n" "why can't my boyfriend be like this" clyde is obviously gloating bc he had the idea.

tolkien

most romantic man you know, is the first to ask you. "y/n can we do this?" "OKAY BOO 😝"

"hmm which lipstick do you think babe?" "i think every lipstick makes you pretty, it doesn't matter if it doesn't suit you because in my eyes you look beautiful in anything ☺️" "what if i wore kim kardashians 2013 met gala dress" "might have to rethink what i said"

he smiles while you kiss him here and there, every once a while he kisses you back, it was such a cute moment for you two😝🤞🤞

when recording he looks at you while smiling during the whole video and it blew up fast because of that

"the way he looks at her" "wishing he was like this" "you got the bag that man is inlove", it blew in seconds fr

craig

"craig lets do-" "okay" "i didnt even ask you yet" "I'll do anything if its with you" "what if i asked you to have a threesome" ".....if its makes you happy idk.."

idk about you but i think he acts like he doesn't care but inside he is so happy you asked he's been wanting to ask you this but doesn't know how to start up the convo

he doesn't care what lipstick or where you kiss him, its just the way you press your lips on him and look at it then quickly reapply to do it again because it wasn't pigmented enough.

when recorded, he doesn't just wipe he makes you turn to face him by grabbing your chin, and he doesn't let go and just looks at you with those yk siren eyes.

people are simping over him ong "damn girlie share for us" "you mean OUR boyfriend" "tryna find someone as hot as him" and you are pissed fr he laughs at you cursing out the people, like bae dw my eyes only fo you 😝🤞

tweek

"tweek, wanna do this?" "but what if I can't remove the lipstick stain" "tweek what dw i have makeup remover" "WHAT IF THAT DOESN'T WORK 🤯🤯" "TWEEK"

okay so the lipstick may turn out ugly bc of how shaky he is but ITS OKAY BC ITS TWEEK DUH, "a-are you sure you dont want to redo this?" "tweek its fine"

he insists on redoing it the 2nd try turns our worse because he's even more twitchy because of how close you are☺️☺️☺️

his face is just red because he keeps wiping it off with his hands so you can redo it and its obvious too

recording it was so funny because you can't stop laughing at the smudge lipsticks

when posted the comments were so cute but... uh questionable some were "the way the smudges are so obvious 😭😭❤️" or "wishing my future relationship will be like this 🤭" and some were just "tip colour when?? 😜"

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rizsu · 1 year

Text

wife on the low manjiro, sanzu.

sum. babysitter!reader. idk where i was going with this one

manjirō sano

tension. too much tension. it's not easy trying to focus on a happy baby when you have two eyes digging through your soul. his gaze is terrifying—whether it's just the way he's just there quietly or the fact that he's bonten's leader, you don't know. he's a scary man.

trying your best to ignore whatever he's doing, you focus on cheerful baby that's been slapping her hands continuously on the little container with water.

she's five months currently so you decided it's time for sensory playtime! starting off with water and slowly adding little sensory toys into the container as she plays.

“it's getting messy.”

“oh—should we stop?”

“no, continue. i'll clean up.”

mikey pushes himself off of the door's frame and wanders off to some room for a mop. he walks away with thoughts swimming in his head; delusional thoughts if you asked him.

he doesn't really know what is it that he's feeling. is it love? dunno. he never felt it in a long time. well, it's not like he remembers what love felt like—he didn't even love the mother of his daughter. hell he can't even remember what possessed him to have sex.

coming back into the playroom, he stills for a moment. cute, he thinks. you look fitting like that. something about the way you're giggling with his daughter while she babbles words only those of her kind understands really makes his heart swell.

“'m back,” he announces after a good few minutes of gawking.

moving the baby onto her crib, you pinch her cheek before going to help mikey.

so close, you think. his body's just above yours—close to the point where you can feel his sweater on your head. his hands moves on yours taking hold of the container.

you made the mistake of glancing at him,, now you're stuck gazing into his static eyes, looking for any hints of his current emotion.

five seconds turned into ten and he doesn't break the eye contact. rather, his right hand glides from the container and rests itself on your cheek.

does he know why he did that? no.

is he going to elaborate? also no.

a few more minutes in wondering silence until he breaks it.

“you're pretty.”

oh!

it takes a minute to process it; eyes opened but still looking into his. mikey drifts his gaze from your lips and back to your eyes. he shows no signs of taking back what he said.

“thank...you..?”

chuckling, he notes your confusion and decides to fuel it by saying: “you're welcome. be my girlfriend.”

sanzu haruchiyo

“pick a colour: blue or red.”

“how about no!” hoisting up his daughter on your hip, you circle around the table making your way to the kitchen as you ignore his attempts of getting you to pick the drug of the day.

sanzu raises his eyebrow at you. you sure have a lot of nerve in front of someone that can easily kill you but he won't. why would he kill you when he isn't sure if he, sober!sanzu, loves you or if he, high!sanzu, is just fucking around.

eh, it's not like he's worried. that's something for future him to worry about!!

“sanzu, her formula's about to end!” shouting from the kitchen as you violently shake her bottle, you faced your focus more on the quiet eight month old rather than the twenty-eight years old father.

“is that all?” sanzu moves on arm behind the couch as he looks back at you. she's a natural with kids—especially mine, he thinks. he's going to blame the drugs for that even though he's very much sober.

“yeah, is it okay if i use your card? i need to stock up on the groceries too.” you explained, dropping a few droplets of the milk on your forearm to check the temp.

“why're you askin' me? it's your card. i took it out for you.”

“because i don't wanna—oh???” you paused. sanzu, your boss, couldn't have possibly taken out another card for you right? certainly, right? god, it's so hard to focus after he said those words. you try to not think too much of it but it's just too difficult.

lost in thought, you didn't realize that he's already in front of you, holding up his mini to give her a nose kiss before looking back at you.

“looks like she's finished. let's go.” walking towards to door, sanzu grabs his keys from the holder along with his mask.

“huh—oh, right her stuff. just a minute!” you can't seem to think coherently, not when those words still linger fresh in your mind.

maybe it's the drugs,

maybe it's you,

maybe it's him,

maybe it's the way he holds your hand firmly while smiling whenever an elderly lady compliments your little “family”,

or maybe it's the way he guides you into his room at night after his daughter fell asleep, pulling you into a kiss that answers all questions.

#+ rizsu: tokyo revengers.#tokyo revengers x reader #manjiro sano x reader #sanzu haruchiyo x reader #tokyo revengers fluff #mikey x reader #sanzu x reader #manjiro sano fluff #sanzu fluff #tokyo revengers drabbles

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upsidedownwithsteve · 1 month

Note

hello! hope ur doing well! love ur writing and excited for the blurb weekend!! was wondering if i could request number 2 and 8 from the pining list with steve harrington? love the way you write him always!! thank you!!!

“doing something nice for the other impulsively,” and “getting flustered when the other is nice to them.”

Steve Harrington x fem!reader

Everyone knew about your crush on Steve. Everyone— well, apart from the boy himself. You weren’t sure how you could possibly hide it, your eyes wide and cheeks hot everytime he was near, words caught in your throat when he spoke to you and god, it took too long for you to be able to settle in his presence.

Which is why you’d taken to sticking to Robin’s side when he invited everyone around to his pool, the summer too hot and too sticky for doing much else. The Indiana heat was borderline cruel that year, endless blue skies pretty and relentless, no clouds for the sun to hide behind.

So everyone piled in to the Harrington’s backyard, swimsuits already on under shorts and baggy shirts, sliders and jelly shoes kicked to the side as everyone stripped at the sight of cool, blue water. Eddie had a radio playing, a somewhat playful argument between him and Nancy ensuing as music choices were discussed and Jonathan took to the shade, pulling a book out of his bag, a vibrant yellow bucket hat that El had gifted him pulled low on his brow.

Then Steve had made his way around you all, shirtless and with a baseball cap shoved on his messy hair, backwards and sporting a hockey team you didn’t know much about. He was already so tanned, prettier than normal with more freckles and flushed cheeks. The sight of him made your breath hitch, shoulder squaring off as you watched him hand a beer to Eddie, another to Jonathan.

Beside you, Robin snorted, shaking her head and watching you from behind cherry coloured sunglasses. You’d set up camp with her on the other side of the pool, heads burning from the sun but your feet dipped in the water, both of you smelling like chlorine and sunscreen.

You frowned, already waiting on the teasing that naturally came. You played dumb regardless, staring at your feet in the water, your skin a shade of blue, the lines of your toes rippling. “What?” You already sounded so defensive.

“Nothing,” Robin snorted. But she pushed her shoulder into yours, sticky with heat and lotion. “Just wondering when you’ll be able to look at Steve without absolutely falling apart.”

Your scowl deepened along with your embarrassment. But you feigned ignorance and watched Nancy fish out her lemon water from her bag. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you sniffed.

Robin just hummed, grinning she stared across the yard. “Interesting.”

“Seriously, I do not fall—“

A shadow fell over both of you briefly before a broad shoulder brushed your own. Steve sat down next to you despite there being more room next to Robin, the heat from all his bare skin making you so, so aware of his proximity. You blinked, lips still parted from talking but the words had died off on your tongue. You felt the familiar creep of warmth along your chest, up your neck.

“Hey,” Steve greeted, his smile too kind, too pretty. “I brought you a drink.”

Instead of a cold can of beer, like he’d handed the boys, Steve offered you a glass. One of his mom’s fancy ones with the patterns along the side, a rosy pink tint to the liquid inside. It was filled with ice, fizzing and bubbling and it smelled like lemons and cherries. It even had a circle of the yellow citrus floating on top, summer in a cup.

It felt hard to talk when you took it from him, fingers brushing and you felt like a kid, like a teenager, a crush that was achingly awful, all consuming and gut wrenching.

He was so pretty and so close and—

“What’s that?” Robin peered over your shoulder, still grinning, looking particularly pleased with the situation she got to witness. “Where’s mine, dingus?”

The boy glared at his friend before he shrugged, all nonchalance and he gestured to you with cheeks more pink than your juice. “It’s just something I mixed up, alright? And you like beer, okay? You can grab a can, your legs work.”

You weren’t sure what made your heart beat faster, the fact that Steve had remembered you didn’t like beer or that he’d went out of his way to make you a drink that was more than a glass of soda.

Robin scoffed but she moved regardless, water dripping on your knees as she got up and walked around the pool, glaring at Steve as she went. “I see how it is,” she told him. “S’real cute, Steven. You could be more subtle next time.”

You were burning, you were sure of it. And Steve seemed to feel the same because he was red now, the tips of his ears scarlet and he flipped Robin off before she disappeared into the kitchen.

And then you realised you were alone with the boy. Something that didn’t happen often, something that you usually tried hard to avoid because you were floundering, both hands clasping the freezing cold glass and god, god— you were so aware that your body was mostly bare, your swimsuit green and suddenly too tight.

Steve’s naked chest was alarmingly close, moles and freckles dotted across sunkissed skin and with a smattering of hair, his arms corded with muscle you hadn’t really seen before, brushing up against yours as he glanced over at you.

He looked shy. Was Steve shy? Was that possible?

You realised you were staring a second too late, eyes flickering back to the pool and you tried not to cringe, or do something stupid, like tumble into the pool and float to the bottom.

So you slipped the straw Steve had placed in your cup between your lips, taking a sip. Bubbles touched your tongue, lemon and cherry and sweetness and tart filling your mouth. You hummed, taking another long drag and you could feel the boy smiling.

“D’you like it?”

You nodded, barely able to lift your head to meet Steve’s gaze but when you did, you were so glad of it. He was beaming, looking too pleased as you took another sip and his knee was bumping against yours, his hand on the pool edge and close to your thigh.

“It’s delicious,” you managed. “You didn’t have to though, I could’ve had some water or—“

Steve waved away your words, nose wrinkled and he tutted. “Nah, what? S’no big deal.”

It was. It was a big deal.

It felt momentous, actually.

“Did you make more?” You dared to ask, feeling brave with the sun in your eyes and Steve’s leg against your own. The water didn’t feel so cold anymore. “For everyone else?”

Steve couldn’t hide his smile then, lips pressed together and eyes crinkling as he shook his head, looking guilty and handsome for it. “No, just you.” He leaned in, like he was sharing a secret. “Don’t tell the rest of them, but, I like you the most.”

You felt hotter than the sun.

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fanfic #Steve Harrington fanfiction #Steve Harrington oneshot #Steve Harrington blurb #Steve baby blurb

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satoruhour · 7 months

Text

a/n: jjk 236 spoilers, mentions of suicide from reader’s side, no comfort, cry. around 1.4k. tagging @jabamin @hyomagiri @saiki-enthusiast @arminsumi @shotorus @satohruu so yall can suffer w me

the first signs of grief manifests in you when there’s a bright light that signifies gojo’s disperse of cursed energy, the familiar hollow purple that obliterates half the buildings around the two strongest sorcerers — one from the heian and the other one from our times. surely, your lover wouldn’t do something as foolish as involving himself with the blast, but gojo satoru is always one to take risks.

when he took up the job of taking care of megumi and tsumiki at just eighteen years old and providing all the things they needed to fluorish. gojo is risky as he convinces a kid with a terrifying curse to make some friends and learn about cursed energy. he sometimes puts himself in danger when he takes up more missions he can shoulder just to show the higher-ups that he can kill them any time.

gojo satoru has the world of jujutsu in his hands; how his birth had changed the trajectory of the society, altered the balance of the world and now—

“satoru!” you call out once the smoke clears and he’s still there, intact, smiling a sick smile like the many times you’ve seen him done at megumi and after burning french toast. you brief a sigh of relief and the pounding of your heart calms down momentarily before sukuna emerges and he’s missing a hand and a leg and your heart pulls lower and lower seeing the kid you raised be such a ragdoll for sukuna’s entertainment. but there was always the hope to isolate the king of curses’ soul and save megumi somehow. shoko and you had discussed it, you know it to be true, it has to be true, until there’s a sharp noise that cuts through your ear drums.

it’s high-pitched, like a flash of light that shines in your eyes too abruptly and you have to cover them. but it blinds you as much as it deafens; an attack from god knows which end and you swear you hear the reaper’s scythe.

gojo thinks you look beautiful like this; hand on your cheek and head in your hand as you watch him and the melodic sounds of the knife hitting the cutting board. you’re so concerned about him cutting his hand again that you’ve dragged your chair all the way into the kitchen to watch him closely, which was counterintuitive; the whole reason why he had bled in the first place was because he was looking at you so much.

he admires the way you curl into yourself on the beanbag in the apartment, a book on your lap on how to get to know your teenager better, hair falling over your eyes and the reading lamp not even helping that much in illuminating the words. gojo skims over your features and the way your chest breathes slowly, like everything good in the world. he hopes he’s able to get that with you in this life, for as long as he lives.

you feel it before you see it in the screens that the fight is broadcasted from — something is missing. a light has switched off, satoru has stolen the blanket at night and left you freezing again, seeing your favourite snack missing from the fridge. and you run. past the students you’ve raised, past the bright blinding screens and into the battlefield, past the debris and each crunch of cement under your feet brings a fresh bout of tears to your eyes. the tokyo winter is cool, snow starting to slowly fall upon you and the saltiness on your face seem to crystallise and harden and you’re not even sure any more. there’s a tingling feeling in your feet, in your finger tips and a pull of your heart. you know where gojo is before you see him.

“s— satoru…” you mumble, eyes welling up with more tears when his bottom half stays standing, baggy pants stained with red, red and more red and you’ve never hated a colour like you do now. you hate it, you hate it, you hate it even when he’s proposed to you with a red velvet box and gotten you valentine’s day chocolates in that same darker red and there is just too much blood.

and then it’s like the hierarchy of grief doesn’t matter any more. all those articles you’ve read preparing yourself after gojo’s fated meeting with death at sixteen, and then after shibuya — you think you can’t handle any more of the collecting and patching up and crying and headaches and holding a finger up to your chest and hoping you’d kill yourself with your own technique. the only time you’d accept the absence of the bright blue on his face is when he was sleeping and his chest moved with even breaths, not like this.

not like this.

“satoru—” your voice cracks and you cannot even see. tears and tears and mucus and the fresh crunch of snow under your feet as you step closer to his severed body.

“baby…” he mumbles, barely above a whisper, hand twitching and reaching out in the direction of your voice because this is infinitely worse than getting stabbed in the neck by toji fushiguro, perhaps a little worse than seeing your best friend of your high school life get manipulated by a cursed user. satoru wants to demote all of that and say that seeing you stumble to your knees in front of him while you hyperventilate and sob hurts the most.

“d-don’t move, ’toru, we— we’re going to get you b-back, okay?” you’re playing with god now. “shoko!” the doctor stifles a sob at your cry, broken up by the feedback of the sound system. she knows you’re trying to defy god.

“i don’t think—” the light is slowly dying. the world’s light, the student’s light, your dawn and dusk. “m-my love, everything is…”

“satoru, please, you need to—!” they say the last sense to go is touch and hearing. you crouch to his face to see him react to your warmth, eyes moving an inch to where he thinks you were and puts all of his cursed energy into one hand just so he could hold your cheek. you, warm as always as the sun and everything good in the world, a new rush of warmth overtaking his hand when your tears flow over his battered, tired hands, the same hands that has drawn over his love time and time again over your body and you are a canvas made of gojo satoru’s endless, unconditional ardour.

“i-i’m…” it fades out, his voice box is almost gone and you wail again and the snow from below wets your knees. his name is all that leaves your lips and you think if you can’t play god, you can only beg, even if your religion is solely gojo satoru.

“no, no, no no nono, satoru, c’mon, baby, stop it!” you scream in his face, words all mushed together when you feel the breath of life leave his chest, the blues die out in his eyes, “i love you, i love you, darling, i love you—” your lover barely manages to muster a small smile and you scramble all over his chest, clutching at the tattered black t-shirt and his hand that is starting to go cold and he has the energy to mutter out a stupid remark like gojo satoru always does.

“i’m sorry i got y-your favourite outfit stained with red, princess…” satoru whispers and that breaks the dam fully. you sob and groan and cry and wail until your voice is hoarse and you cannot speak any more and gojo wants nothing but to full heal himself again just so he could stop your crying. perhaps hold your face in his hands and kiss your forehead and nose and lips and embrace you until you couldn’t breathe. perhaps even to tell you he loved you more than anything and everything; more than poems and that foolish line he just had to say at the end and kikufuku and waking up next to you.

but in what world will gojo satoru ever get repose and a normal life? you hope for every other universe to have him be a preschool teacher, or maybe a florist, or even a superstar. but not in this one, no.

the hand that caressed your cheek is replenished again with cursed energy.

satoru gives you three squeezes.

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bunnyhugs77 · 3 months

Text

Honey I'm Home

୨୧- Just a little slice of life of a hard working dad, his tired wife and their twin girls.

୨୧ WC: 900

Jungkook pushes open the door to your small two-bedroom flat, his keys jingling in the door which attracted the two little girls on the other side to come running instantly.

The soft patter of their socked feet hitting the wooden floors as they rushed to his as fast as they could. "Daddy!" The girls squealed. Jungkook crouched down, his once drained expression replaced with one full of delight.

"Girls!" He exclaims, taking the both of them in each of his arms, listening to their adorable laughter as he engulfed them into his tight embrace. "Daddy! Can't breathe!" Aria squeaks from where her head rested against his chest. Always the dramatic one of the two.

Jungkook laughs, apologizing and letting them go. Aria runs back to the kitchen where he could only assume the source of that flavourful scent was coming from. Meanwhile Hye-Ji stayed back to show him the flowers she'd picked just for him.

"Are these for me?" Bending at the waist to collect the crushed dandelions that were once in the grip of her fist. She nods with the brightest smile he's ever seen.

Picking her up as well, letting her rest on his side with one hand, careful not to ruffle the very elaborate princess dress she was wearing as he finally begins to make his way to the kitchen. "Thank you so much princess, I'll make sure to add this to my collection." He places a kiss to the crown of her head.

There you were. His eyes seemed to soften once they landed on you. In a button up and your favourite pair of mom jeans." Hi baby," He gets the chance to peck your lips briefly before Hye-Ji was asking to be put down.

She quickly ran off to her sister in the living room where there were colouring pages ripped out, building blocks all over the place, a box of crayons in the laundry bin full of clothes that were waiting to be folded.

"Hi." You manage a smile before resuming your blank stare into the pot of tomato sauce for the spaghetti that you'd been stirring for god knows how long. "Is everything okay?" Disregarding your mundane 'yeah' he know something is up.

"Honey, what's wrong? Talk to me." You sigh, dropping your shoulders, finally looking at him. He was in his typical work-wear for his day job as a private banker meanwhile he works part-time nights as a mail courier.

"Today was a bad day." Letting your head fall into your husband's firm chest in defeat. His hands raised to hold you in his arms the same way the have been for the last 5 years.

The shiny silver band of his wedding ring catching the light for a moment as he gently rubbed your back. "You wanna talk about it?"

You pout softly, "There's nothing to say, look at the state of the house. Hye-Ji turned the house upside down looking for her dress this morning. Then I took them to the grocery store and Aria got lost." Jungkook's eyebrows raise, but you weren't done.

"I finally got them to sleep for an hour while I did some laundry, and then I ended up falling asleep myself, waking up to crayons and toys everywhere, and Hye-Ji was crying because she missed you and then I started crying because I missed you too and-"

You couldn't believe this was making you tear up. The day was hectic and the fact you'd have to do it all over again tomorrow. Jungkook hushes you in a comforting manner, practically swaddling you in his arms. "I'm sorry I couldn't be here," you sniffle, stepping back.

"It's not your fault. You work two jobs. it's just hard sometimes." You admit and Jungkook gets an idea. "Go." He says and your brow arches, "I'll finish dinner, and take care of the girls. Go rest, or read that Jasper Wilde book you've been wanting to read. Please. Let me help, you deserve it." He pecks your forehead and you weren't going to fight him on it.

Leaving the kitchen and the responsibilities to him. Telling yourself that it would only be a thirty minute nap but it turned into 2 hours. By the time you walked back into the kitchen, it looked like you'd walked into a whole new house.

Everything was neat and tidy, the girls were sitting on the ground with a bowl of abandoned grapes shared between them as they watched Moana with an entranced gaze.

The laundry basket was gone, the floors were clean and the air smelled of soft fresh linens and cinnamon. Looking back to the kitchen where Jungkook quietly tidied up, humming softly to himself. You stood hidden from where you were admiring your little family.

You may not have had much but you had everything you needed right here. "You're amazing you know that?" Jungkook says as you approached him. "I should be saying that to you." You counter.

"No. I mean it, Y/n. Having two jobs is easy, but doing what you do everyday is a job for a saint. I appreciate everything you do for us, I love you so much." His lips pressing against your forehead while your heart felt so full of love. "I love you." You say.

"I have to potty!" Aria declares and the both of you look at each other.

"Not it."

#jungkook smut #jungkook #bts #jungkook ff #bts one shot #jungkook x reader #jungkook fic recs #fluff #drabble

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dumbseee · 9 months

Text

stalker. pt.4.

previous.

charles leclerc x reader. / carlos sainz jr x reader.

fc: lalisa manoban.

liked by carlossainz55, francisca.cgomes, landonorris and 3 719 000 others.

y/n: when you tell him paris is your favorite city so he takes you to paris the next day 🤭

fan1: charles could never

liked by y/n.

fan2: carlos is the real deal

fan3: my girl is thriving and i’m here for it

fan4: i don’t know if i want to be y/n or carlos tbh

fan5: god i see what you do for others…

fan6: i need a carlos

fan7: y/n stayed with charles for three years and homeboy never took her anywhere, but in a month only carlos managed to take her to her favorite place

fan8: that’s what you deserve girl

fan9: i’m so jealous

landonorris: i can fit in a luggage so next time hit me up mate

carlossainz55: i’d probably ship you to nicaragua on purpose

landonorris: and that’s why i prefer charles over you

fan10: not lando and carlos fighting in the comments lmao

fan11: carlos came out straight off a book wtf

view all comments.

carlossainz55 just posted a story!

caption: vacation with fam <3

"can i talk to you, dear?" reyes warm tone made you smile, you sat up from your deck chair and made some place for the woman. she sat next to you and smiled. she was so kind to you, even though you met a few hours ago, she welcomed you into her family with open arms. "are you enjoying yourself, bella?" the nickname made you chuckle as you nodded, you didn’t know why but next to her you felt like a kid. "don’t be shy!" she laughed, pushing you slightly with her shoulder. "sorry. spain is amazing i really like it." reyes nodded. "great, because it seems like you’re going to be around here often now." she winked at you which made the both of you laugh.

"you know, you’re the first girl carlos brings home." that actually surprised you, carlos always had that don juan image in your mind which made you think he’d have way more exes. "believe it or not but carlito is pretty shy, and before you he always declined the blind dates his father would set him up for." the woman smiled and looked at her son who was fishing with his father a little bit far away from them. "he told me about you way before you two started dating though." "really?" she nodded and took your hand. "it was love at first sight for him." you could feel your cheeks getting hotter and red, you looked up at carlos who was now dancing with a big fish in his hands, he turned around and showed it to you and reyes. "look what i got!" he shouted, you clapped for him while his mom was laughing. "when i see him like this, it reminds me of when he was a little kid, running around and messing with his sisters." you didn’t know what to say so you just squeezed her hand. "you like him a lot, i can tell. if my son has been in love with you for so long, that means that you’re a good person too. so i trust you with him."

liked by carlossainz55, anasainzvdec, reyesvdec and 2 810 001 others.

y/n: congratulations to the newlyweds 🥺🫶🏼 may your marriage be fulfilled with love and happiness!

anasainzvdec: you’re an angel y/n, thanks you!

carlossainz55: 💛

fan1: y/n being accepted by the sainz warms my heart for some reasons

fan2: awww she was invited too

fan3: carlos and y/n next 🤪

liked by reyesvdec.

fan4: not reyes liking all the comments about y/n and carlos, she’s so cute

fan5: yellow is your color!

fan6: noooo but carlos inviting y/n to his family vacation and to his sister’s wedding is so cute

fan7: omg y/n blonde era??

fan8: this girl can pull off every colour it’s insane

fan9: meanwhile charles never took y/n to meet his family, they had to accidentally run into each other in monaco to actually meet…

fan10: y/n really is glowing these days omg

fan11: y/n post charles is my favorite y/n

view all comments.

charlesleclerc just posted a story!

caption: 💭

taglist: @ferrariloverr @kimi240302 @rosekar16 @ironmaiden1313

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breadbrobin · 3 months

Note

So i saw of a guy getting lipstick kisses on him and im just obssessed with it. I want it with Luke but maybe we could have Luke put our lipstick on to mark us with kisses? Thanks for the lovely Luke fics ;3

revenge is best served red

luke castellan x reader — percy jackson and the olympians

[fem!reader, from any cabin]

summary: little pranks are a great way to keep a relationship fun, and if they involve lipstick? well, neither of you are going to complain too much.

warnings: kissing, reader wears makeup (lipstick mostly stated), slightly suggestive content

word count: 786

(hiiii!! i love this request it’s so cute! thank you for the awesome request, i hope you like it!)

——————————————

one thing new campers often noticed about luke castellan were the lipstick stains on his collar and skin and the silver bracelet on his wrist, both a perfect match to your lips and your own wrist. he wore both with pride, always one to wear his heart on his sleeve and, well, your lipstick on his shirts.

you’d never tried to hide your relationship. how could you, after all, when luke stumbled out from behind your cabin with lipstick marks all over his face and you followed him not long later, makeup smudged and hair messy? that was a pretty good giveaway that you were together.

luke had always liked revenge. good, cold, sweet revenge. but you had never been a target. nope. never.

until he drew a heart with an ‘L’ in it on your cheek while you slept one night, and you went around camp as usual for three hours before you realised it was there. then all bets were off.

you wore your brightest, boldest lip looks, pressing kisses to his cheeks, to his hands to the corner of his mouth. he wore them with pride.

“you’re never embarrassed,” you’d whined to him one day.

he’d wrapped his arms around you and pulled you closer, smiling. “i’d never be embarrassed by you. how could i be?”

that had been enough for you to shut him up with more deep red kisses for a while.

revenge came to you one day though. cold and sweet.

you went simple. and cold. definitely cold.

a bucket of ice was tipped over luke just before he was set to start training, courtesy of you, of course. what you hadn’t expected, was getting chased by a soaked, cold, luke, and hugged tightly as the ice permeated through your clothes too. regardless, he admitted that you’d got him, and finally, you could relax. pranks had never been your strong suit anyway.

as time went on, all of that took a backseat. more than anything else, you were just… happy.

luke was, first and foremost, a picture perfect boyfriend. always opening doors for you, pressing kisses to your cheeks and lips, carrying your bags and always respecting you. but he was so annoying sometimes.

like now, as he sat on your with your makeup bag in front of him, tipped out onto your sheets.

you were sitting on the floor with a colouring book as he sorted through your products, studying some of them and swatching them on his hand and wrist. you weren’t quite sure was he was doing—you had your back to him—but whatever it was was making you slightly nervous. he hummed every now and then, either in confusion or satisfaction, you weren’t quite sure. that was the only thing that broke up the silence in the otherwise empty cabin.

“hey, babe,” he said suddenly.

“yeah?” you didn’t look back at him.

“what colour lipstick do you think would suit me best?”

you frowned and turned around, then covered your mouth with a giggle. “oh my gods.”

luke’s lips were painted in a deep red, messy and over-lined more than kylie jenner. he was smiling goofily. “what?”

“you look like the joker. and not the cool one.” you giggled, hand still over your mouth.

“so not this colour?” he grinned.

you shook your head, lowering your hand with a laugh. “no, not that colour.”

“hm…” he looked in a handheld mirror and pouted dramatically. “guess i’ve got to take this off then.”

you were about to reach for your makeup wipes when his lips landed on yours. you were confused for a moment, before you couldn’t help but laugh into the kiss as the lipstick rubbed off onto your lips and face.

he pulled away and smiled. “i see why you like doing that.”

“like doing what?” you asked breathlessly.

his thumb smeared the lipstick just below your lips slowly. “making such a mess.”

he kissed you again, slowly guiding you up and pushing your makeup aside so you were on your bed with him, then pushing you down gently so you were lying below him.

he peppered lipsticked kisses all over your face, eliciting giggles from you, and, when he finally pulled back, your face was more red and pink than anything else. he smiled down at you, his hand resting on your waist as he shifted his weight to the side. “yeah. i get it now.”

“i hate you.” you teased.

“yeah, i hate you too. but revenge is sweet. at least i’m not freezing you right now.” he grinned, his lips meeting yours again as you both laughed. you didn’t even mind that he was wasting your lipstick. with luke, nothing was a waste.

#luke castellan #luke castellan x reader #percy jackson #pjo #percy jackon and the olympians #pjo x reader #luke castellan x you #charlie bushnell

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madschiavelique · 9 months

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Hello! I saw your rules so I decided to I guess rerequest in the way you asked. I was wondering if you could write about a female reader coming in one day with a sundress and Miguel just goes absolutely feral. He’s just trying to keep it professionally but ends up failing and just going ham on the reader

OMG anon i'm kissing your brain hehehehe (summer is killing us all besties : please don't forget to hydrate yourself <3)

summary : miguel sees you in a sundress

content warning : SMUT (18+) minors dni, fingering, biting and marking, this man is so in love with you, fem!reader, no use of Y/N, praise word count : 1,6k

Summer had arrived, and as in most dimensions, except for the apocalyptic two or three where everything was frozen or the weather had simply declined with little chance of a return, it was hot.

And although the air-conditioning was in every room and corridor of the spider society, that in no way prevented members from dressing a little more lightly, although some might find this a sign of a lack of professionalism, one in particular, needless to mention, whose name began with Mi and ended with Guel.

Today was a fairly hot day, and all the spiders were practically fighting for ice cubes, a spot of coolness that would bring them comfort. Many of them were dressed in shorts, a variety of shirts, t-shirts, skirts and even tank tops.

So you seized the opportunity and put on a summer dress. It was charming, in your favourite colour, not too long and not too short, stopping just above the knees, with a beautifully plunging neckline to show off your curves. It was light, incredibly comfortable to wear, and needless to say that in spider society, it was a change to see you like this.

Like most of the members, people were used to seeing you in your suit, or in civilian clothes that could be considered professional. But this dress? It was a little ray of freshness.

Miguel was chatting in the cafeteria with Jessica and Peter, all having a serious discussion that you were supposed to join. You entered the cafeteria, looking around for them.

"Oh, hey over here!" called Peter to you with a smile, "Oh. My. God. What's the occasion for you dressing like that?"

Miguel, who until now had been stubbornly focused on getting Peter to stand still for this meeting, huffed before turning his head and...

He became static, his breath caught, his eyes wide open as he watched you come towards him. All the others were oysters, and you were a pearl: the best of them all, the most beautiful, the purest.

You offered a gentle smile as you came closer, and his lips parted slightly as the gesture gave him the warmth of thousands of sunbeams.

"It's true that you look ravishing, cutie," Jess admitted as you sat down next to Miguel, facing the other two on the opposite side of the table. "What's the occasion?" she repeated after Peter's question.

"Yeah," said Miguel, clearing his throat as he straightened up and pretended to keep a straight face, "what's the occasion?

You gave them all a small, smiling laugh.

"Nothing in particular, I'm just trying to beat the heat," you said as you took your seat, "why? I shouldn't have?" The possibility that your attire might pose a problem in maintaining the balance of the multiverse hadn't occurred to you.

"No!" The strength with which Miguel denied this surprised you all.

He swallowed, his sentence had come out a little stronger and a little more involved than he had intended.

"No," he pulled himself together as he took on his usual grumpy tone that everyone knew well, "although it's a lack of professionalism, we're not going so far as to prevent your freedom of clothing in the Society."

Well caught up, he thought as he brought his glass of water to his lips. Around the table, he was the only one wearing his suit. Because it was made of pixels and produced by a refined technological composite, he didn't suffer from the heat. Jess was wearing a t-shirt and cycling shorts, Peter a shirt and trousers, and you your summer dress.

Jess and Peter exchanged a quick glance, a mischievous smile stretching across their lips. Most of the elite and close teammates knew about your relationship with Miguel, and although he wasn't always the most public about your relationship, he cared about you immensely, and they both could only imagine the effect you were having on him.

"So, what did I miss?" you asked.

Jess started to explain the situation, but Miguel wasn't really listening. His eyes were obviously riveted on you, and even when he tried to refocus on the conversation, his thoughts and eyes were redirected in your direction as if magnetised.

You were... radiant, beautiful, and... for a moment his eyes went down to the bench you were sharing: the skirt part of your dress was slightly pleated, exposing the skin of your slightly spread thighs, sinking into the space where your cunt was.

He suddenly had the urge to slide his hand over your soft skin, to press it between his fingers and see the bounce of it brimming over under the grip of his hand.

And your cleavage was showing your bare skin, and he wanted to kiss your neck, to nibble your collarbone as he kissed down to the hollow of your breasts...

Keeping his hands to himself was becoming complicated, every little movement you made, even if it was just to readjust your sleeve over your shoulder, was becoming intoxicating. How was it possible to become even hotter by wearing more clothes?

His professionalism really started to take a hit when your leg inadvertently brushed against his, a shiver running down his spine.

But he couldn't touch you here, there was no tablecloth at this cafeteria table that could conceal his desires.

How he longed to do it, even if it was just to touch your thigh with his fingers, to run his hands over your sublimely covered body and to-

"Miguel? Can you remind us about what the last reports stipulated considering the last anomaly?" asked Peter, bursting Miguel's thought bubble, "I can't remember it for the life of me, it must be the heat." he complained. "What do you guys say we postpone this meeting? I can't think straight no matter how many fresh cocktails i drink."

It was true that the glasses had accumulated on Peter's side. A sigh escaped Jessica's lips.

" I regret to say it, but I agree. We can't think properly with the temperature."

Tell me about it, thought Miguel. He didn't care about the temperature, the real distraction was you. He exchanged a glance with you, and you looked at him with a small smile, waiting for his answer.

"Good," he said, simply nodding. "I won't detain you, you can leave."

Peter let out a small chirp, he and Jess getting up from the table to leave. Once away, you turned to Miguel, tilting your head to the side in playful puzzlement.

"The great Miguel O'Hara closing a meeting like that? Summer really does have its magic."

If summer could let him see you every day in that outfit, he'd make sure it lasted forever. His eyes roamed your silhouette again, biting the inside of his cheek. His hand skimmed the side of your leg, hovering gently over it until he placed it on the inside of your thigh, pressing.

You breathed a small sigh of relief, his eyes returning to yours.

"I'm guessing you like the dress," you said more softly.

"Very," he replied simply.

His behaviour was becoming less and less... acceptable in public. So he took your hand and led you out of the cafeteria. Would he be able to wait until you returned to his quarters ? Probably not.

But he knew every nook and cranny of the building, it was his, so you passed down one corridor, then two, then three, until you came to an alleyway you'd never seen before, darkened by the lack of activity.

He glanced in each direction, then immediately came to press you against the first wall you came to, kissing you hungrily.

"That dress is going to be the death of me," he murmured as he came to kiss your cheek followed by your neck, his hands placed on your waist and thigh as he feasted on your skin.

His hand slid up your leg, gripping the warm skin of your thigh as you let out a moan. His fingers moved up your inner thigh almost hastily, unable to contain his need to touch you.

"You're so pretty," he breathed as he came back to kiss you, "all pretty for me, nena."

His fingers reached the fabric of your panties, your body arching. His fingers went under the elastic of the latter and down to your cunt.

"Tengo la novia más linda del mundo," he whispered, kissing the back of your neck, tracing the line of your pulse as he made circular movements around your clit. "Such a beautiful body," he inserted a finger inside you, making you whine softly, "such a beautiful voice," your wetness was starting to stick to his hand. "And it's all mine."

With his other hand, he shifted the short sleeve of your dress, exposing more of your shoulder and placing soft pecks on it. His lips caressed your skin, and his fangs grazed it as he added a second finger.

He was curving his fingers in a sublime way, the strokes combining perfectly with the undulations he was making and hitting the perfect spot.

He kissed the skin of your shoulder, sucking it until it left a bluish mark.

"All mine," he repeated in a murmur as he ran his tongue over the mark he'd just made.

Your moans multiplied, breath hitching, bringing you closer and closer to orgasm, the hot cloud in your lower belly and back spreading.

"Come nena, let me see your pretty face when you do," he said, kissing you a little before pulling back and watching you with his drunken eyes.

You came, your legs all wobbly as Miguel's hand came to rest on your back to keep you upright. He kissed your temple and forehead, calming you gently.

"You're a dream," he said, covering the mark he'd left on your skin with your sleeve as you trembled, only he was aware of the hold he had over you.

Needless to say, from that day on in the summer, the air-conditioning became suspiciously faulty, because he had every intention of seeing you wearing that dress again.

2K notes · View notes

rookthorne · 3 months

Text

⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ 𝐅𝐨𝐫𝐛𝐢𝐝𝐝𝐞𝐧 𝐂𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐨𝐬𝐢𝐭𝐲

The first day of any new job was always the hardest — all the rules and roles to navigate while establishing yourself as someone reliable, trustworthy, and far too interested in your employer.

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 ୨୧ DILF!Bucky Barnes x Babysitter!F!Reader

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕 ୨୧ 8.3k

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 ୨୧ Swearing, pet names, fluff, slight angst/insecurity, pining, unspecified age gap, Bucky is a shameless flirt and he knows it, extreme sexual tension/implied smut, heated kissing, there is a kid in this fic

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒂𝒖𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒓 𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒆𝒔 ୨୧ Happy belated birthday, @duckybarnes1917 — I hope you enjoy the torturous collection I came up with just for you, love you long time. 😘 ୨୧ This AU and fic itself have skyrocketed into my personal top 5. I threw my all into this and I am fucking proud of it.

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒎𝒔 ୨୧ greedy by Tate McRae ୨୧ Like U by Rosenfeld

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒃𝒆𝒕𝒂 ୨୧ @smutconnoisseur — thank you for dealing with my flying by the seat of my pants attitude because oh my god—

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒔 ୨୧ @buckybarnesevents Build a Bucky Bingo ჻჻჻ Babysitting (December), Teasing (January), Single Parent (February) — Masterlist ჻჻჻ Aggressive Flirting (February) — Masterlist ୨୧ @buckybarnesevents Alternate June-iverse 𝗖𝟯 — DILF AU — Masterlist ୨୧ @mcukinkbingo 𝗜𝟱 — Mistaken for a couple — Masterlist ୨୧ @anyfandomfluffbingo 𝗚𝟮 — First Kiss — Masterlist ୨୧ @sweetspicybingo Sweetheart Bingo — Cloud Nine — Masterlist

𝐖𝐡𝐢𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐀𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

The advertisement was like any other — a father looking for a babysitter to watch over his little girl while he worked, and from what you could gather, the father worked a prestigious job that took up a substantial amount of time when he had to visit the office.

A sweet little girl that adored princesses and coloured her days away, if her description was anything to be believed, and you applied for the position straight away, not wasting a moment before you sent all of your credentials through. It seemed a perfect fit.

To your shock (and relief), you heard back from your new employer within the hour.

James Barnes, a leading engineer in his field of cutting-edge prosthetics, called you in the next half hour, voice deep and honeyed with a hidden sense of cunning curiosity. The conversation was brief before he invited you over for a drink — of your choice, “You can have whatever you want, doll, I don’t mind,” he purred after you stuttered a shocked, nonsensical reply.

It was intoxicating, the sound of his voice lulling into fantasies that your majorly unhelpful mind conjured after that encounter. The memory was barely definable through your lust fuelled recollections of your shared drinks.

Over time, after spending time with the both of them, it took all of your willpower to not be lulled towards the forbidden curiosities you held for your new employer. He was enigmatic, playful, curious, and lethally charming with a smile to match — one that danced in your daydreams and slumber with far too sinful results.

The rapport with your new charge came over easy, a blessed relief that instilled a confidence in you; a job that would both be a smooth and interesting challenge, sans complications of a tantruming child.

James, however, quickly made it his mission to fluster you at every turn: asking you about your day and praising you for the smallest, littlest things, to bringing you home flowers and treats when he walked in the door to greet you.

It never failed to make heat creep up your neck, and never failed to land elsewhere.

You were no stranger to attraction, but James was something else — a broad, older man, single father to a little girl, incredibly handsome and intelligent, and far too suave for his own good. Just the thought of his attention made you feel giddy with the rush of endorphins.

One particular video call stuck in your mind to this day, a loop of his voice and soft, enamoured expression on repeat. Both of you were discussing the particular habits of his little girl: how she loved certain movies and detested others, where she loved to have her meals and with what plush teddies and dolls had to sit with her, and so on, so forth.

It was heartwarming to bear witness how much he adored his daughter, a clear example of love and devotion you’d only seen in very few circumstances.

“She doesn’t mind having other movies,” James said, and the camera panned to the little girl happily playing with her dolls. “It’s just– She will pout and whine if she doesn’t get, y’know, that movie.”

You chuckled and noted it down on a piece of paper. “And we’re not saying the name of that movie because–?”

The phone’s camera flipped back to show James’ fearful expression, wide, bright eyes staring directly into the screen and through to your soul. “It’s because I don’t want a riot in my living room,” he said carefully, around your laughter — you couldn’t help it, he was too dramatic. “Besides, I would rather spend my time talking to my pretty Fawn.”

The use of the pet name he reserved for only you made you splutter and hide — tilting the camera to the ceiling as you bit your lip hard enough for it to almost bleed. “Aw, come back,” James teased, “I was enjoying seeing your face—not the damned ceiling.”

You were sure it was some kind of sin for how often that comment played in your mind during the late hours of the night, but you couldn’t help it.

In such a short span of time, you fell hard for your boss, the father of your charge, and it was a hell of a forbidden rush to think of him in such a way — above you, pinning you to the surface while he fucked you deep, hard, and fast. The deep, animalistic grunts that would fall from his lips, or the praises he’d sing of how tight you were for him.

Not to mention, the way his deep, chocolate brown hair would fall from his shoulders to hang between your bodies, the ends of it tickling your skin when he would pull out; only to thrust hard back into your cunt with a wrecked, gravelly moan.

The clatter of your fork on your plate made you jump a mile high, and you came back to reality with a crash to find the sun casting its bright rays over the breakfast nook in your apartment. “Fuck, fuck,” you muttered, shaking your head to clear the heated images while your thighs clenched traitorously at the visual and auditory vision. “Goddammit.”

What lay ahead, however, made the burning thoughts turn to butterflies in your stomach. Today was the day, your first real test: a full day packed to the brim with activities you planned that would suit the young, imaginative mind you no doubt believed the girl to have, given who her father was.

A loud chime sounded next to you, and you gasped in fright. “Shit!” you cursed, and you scrambled to grab your phone.

Speaking of the devil; James’ name flashed at the bottom of your screen, and you read the text with an unparalleled eagerness.

She just woke up and she’s already screaming about her new friend visiting today. We’re excited to see you, Fawn.

Attached to the text was a picture of the little girl you affectionately called Starlet. She was holding a drawing up to the camera that had no doubt been hastily created — it was you, James, and her holding hands. The movement she artistically captured led you to assume the three of you were dancing in front of the giant, scribbled rainbow in the background.

Tears welled in your eyes at the soft warmth that bloomed in your chest — only having had prominently video calls with her, she already considered you a friend.

Memories pulled at your mind again, and you thought back to the time you received a video call from Starlet one evening — it was just starting to grow dark when your phone chimed, and you answered it without a second thought after seeing your employer’s name on the screen. “Hello?”

A bright, smiling face stared at you through the screen.

“Oh, hello, honey!” you said happily. “What are you up to?” Then you remembered that she was a crafty, cunning little girl. With a sterner tone, you pressed on in the interrogation, “Where’s your dad—have you taken his phone again?”

“No, I’m here, Fawn,” James called distantly, and he laughed. “Starlet wanted to say hello—I’m just cooking dinner, you don’t mind, do you? Are we keeping you from something?”

“Nope.” The cushions against your back suddenly became very comfortable, now that you had company of your favourite two people. “Tell me about your day, sweetheart,” you asked of Starlet, and the little girl flew into an explanation that lasted one whole hour.

It was only when James took his phone back did you have a moment to catch your reeling mind, only for it to start spinning at the sight of his broad, handsome smile.

The phone in your hand buzzed once more, pulling you from the reverie. James sent another message asking if you would bring more of a specific set of gel pens — Starlet had taken to them and never quieted down about how sparkly they were.

A giggle escaped from your lips in the quiet of your home, and your thumbs flew over the keyboard to type back: Sure can. I can’t wait to see you guys, I’ll be there soon!

“Okay,” you said to yourself, picking up your plate of now stone-cold breakfast. “Let’s do this.”

You ignored the heavy weight of the secret bearing down on your mind as you padded down the hallway to your bedroom; how wrong it was to fall for your damned employer and harbour the lust over him, but you couldn’t help but revel in the thrill of it.

After dressing comfortably, you made sure to grab an extra set of gel pens for the princess that awaited you before you walked out the door, locking it behind you.

The journey to James’ home was thankfully uneventful, and you pulled up to where your directions led.

Your mouth fell slack with shock at what you found awaiting you.

The driveway to James’ home was sprawling in the length and design. Flowering hedges lined either side of the luxuriously paved road, and there was a water feature — a water feature, you thought incredulously, placed dead centre in front of a set of stairs that led to a massive, windowed, double set of doors.

“No wonder the pay was that high, he’s rich.” Your car travelled silently up the way while you took in the opulence of your new surroundings.

To the left of the stairway leading to the front door, was an empty space next to a fancy SUV. “I hope that’s for me,” you mumbled, and you parked your car while sure to leave space between the vehicles. The handbrake creaked and the engine shut off with a shudder, the sound of it made you grimace. “I have to get this checked; sooner rather than later.”

With no time to pause and consider your misfortune with vehicles, you slid out of the driver’s seat and popped the trunk to fetch the bag of delightful craft supplies you readied for Starlet. Through your raging nerves, you managed to hum a song quietly as you placed the strap over your shoulder.

The sole of your shoes padded over the pavement of the driveway, and the mansion that loomed ahead of you in its majesty — the architecture alone made it appear like something from the cover of a magazine.

“Whoa,” you breathed, spinning in place to take it all in. The beauty and aesthetic of the home was unmatched in the tidiness of the landscaping, and the facade of the home highlighted the contrasting use of colours in both the wood and steel that made up the accents. “Holy–”

A squeal of glee cut your admiration short, and one of the double doors of the home flew open to reveal a small girl dashing down the steps, clothed in a typical sparkly, princess dress. “Hi!”

“Oh!” you gasped, stumbling backwards with the force of the child’s hug. “Goodness, hello! You must be the little Starlet, huh?” The comment was teasing — you knew for certain this was your charge, but the girl beamed up at you through her fly-away hair.

“Yeah,” Starlet giggled. Her small arms, decorated in sparkly lace, squeezed you tighter.

A deep voice tinged with the worry only a parent could possess, suddenly called from the stairs. “Starlet! Honey–? Don’t run off on me like that–” They stopped, and you looked up — the breath in your lungs escaped as though you’d been punched in the diaphragm. “Fawn!”

You blinked, unable to form the words that would accurately depict the sight before you.

James was smiling — the very same one that made his eyes crinkle at the sides. The tight, navy blue, rounded collar shirt clung to his chest and shoulders, while black dress pants hugged his thighs.

It was true, you had seen him numerous times via your video calls and once in person, but nothing came close to preparing you for how he would be in the comfort of his own home; how his voice was just as deep, if not deeper, and trickled down your spine with the same heat as molten lava.

Oh, fuck, you thought.

Aloud, you said, “Mr. Barnes!”

James grinned and shook his head. “Fawn, sweetheart—please call me Bucky.” He neared you, his presence overwhelmingly close, and he leaned in for a hug that you nervously returned — all the while praying the hammering beat of your heart couldn’t be heard or felt against his muscled chest. “It’s good to see you again,” he rumbled, pulling away to look you up and down, and his eyes landed on your bag. “I’ll take that for you.”

“Th– Thanks,” you stuttered; the proximity allowed you to stare into his grey-blue eyes, a mix of colours you wished to capture and keep.

Bucky’s hand brushed against yours when he grabbed your bag, but he kept that same, priceless smile on his lips. “We started the princess marathon early, if you couldn’t tell,” he added, looking down at the ball of energy that was his daughter.

You grinned down at the little girl. “I can’t wait—I found so many things we can do, Starlet, and they all involve princesses.”

Starlet took off like a shot towards the front doors and into the house, her screech of glee loud enough to wake the neighbours — Bucky stood next to you wincing, while you rubbed your ear that was closest to the front door. The ringing only died down slightly.

“Oh, boy,” you muttered, “Someone’s a bit excited.”

Bucky laughed. The sound rich and something you terribly needed to hear again.

You looked at him, taking in his profile while he still stared towards the doorway of his home. The hair that looked almost black on the phone, was a deep, deep brown — where the sun bled through the surrounding trees, it shone a beautiful hazelnut. It was loose down his neck, and his beard was neatly trimmed with only a few grey patches to be seen.

The sign of his age made him all the more attractive — allowing a sense of maturity and allure to his already swoon worthy appearance.

“So,” you hastily started, willing the heat that started to build in your stomach to simmer instead of boil. “You’re off for a full day in the office?”

“Hmm? Oh, yeah,” Bucky replied, and he put a hand on the small of your back to guide you up to his home. “I’ve got back-to-back meetings that I can’t put off any longer, given my associates and their… inability to manifest a sense of patience. And I don’t like taking Starlet if I can help it—she’s such an active girl and she hates sitting in the corner.”

“That’s fair.” The stairs beneath your feet exhumed luxury you felt you couldn’t even stand in the presence of. “Have you been looking for a babysitter for long–?”

Bucky looked at you from the corner of his eyes. “Curious one, aren’t you, Fawn?”

“I–”

“I’m just messing with you, honey,” he said, barely holding back a laugh. “And to answer you, yeah, I have. They all either were too uptight or couldn’t handle how hyperactive Starlet is—‘cause as you may have noticed, she’s a lot–”

“She is not!” You frowned and looked towards the inside of the house where Starlet was no doubt impatiently waiting for your presence. “She’s beautiful and sweet—creative and passionate, there’s nothing wrong with that.”

“Thanks, honey,” he said softly, earnestly. The smile he gave you made butterflies erupt where there were flames only seconds ago.

Bucky walked you through the threshold of the front door, and you gasped loudly at the interior — it was a brightly lit, open spaced home with only counters and half walls to divide up the rooms, and there were numerous hallways that lead off of the main area. A grand staircase led to the upper floors.

“This is beautiful,” you said breathlessly, awestruck by the beauty. On the upper level, you heard the fast footsteps of a little girl running around, to gather things to show her new friend, you assumed, but what you focused on was Bucky’s prideful expression; a man that was happy and proud of the space he built for his family. “Really, really beautiful, Bucky. Wow.”

“You know how to make a fella feel special, Fawn,” he muttered bashfully with an accent you loved more than would ever admit to. A playful sense of amusement grew as you spotted a dusting of pink over his high cheekbones.

The air crackled with tension as Bucky looked up from the floor and into your eyes.

Before you could open your mouth and say something on instinct, Bucky looked towards the kitchen, then back at you. “Come here.”

He led you into the sprawling kitchen — the size of it far too big to comprehend with counter space akin to a working, industrial kitchen. A ringed index finger pointed to the fridge. “Now, before you go getting any ideas of spoiling Starlet rotten…”

There was a teasing tone to his voice, and it was raised to be loud enough for a certain pair of little ears to hear.

You looked to where he was pointing and saw a whiteboard hanging high on the door. Neat, orderly writing on one side; childish scrawl on the other. It had rules listed in bullet form: no extra chocolate, no extra sugar, in bed by eight…

“As you can see,” Bucky said, still in that raised tone. His eyes wandered to the upstairs loft that was above the kitchen, and you didn’t repress the urge to grin at him. “There are rules to follow, and Starlet agreed to them; do not let her convince you otherwise–”

“But daddy,” a petulant voice whined. You only just managed to stifle your laughter. “She didn’t have to know.”

“Starlet Barnes,” Bucky scolded, and the laughter you worked so hard to bite back almost broke free as he put his hands on his cocked hips, staring up at the loft. Your gaze followed his eye line and you saw the aforementioned troublemaker peering down between the railing, a deep pout on her lips. “You promised me you would behave, honey. Now come down here so I can say goodbye—daddy’s gotta go to work or he’ll be late.”

A loud whine followed Bucky’s words, and he shook his head before he looked at you. “Those are the rules, for her, anyway.”

You blinked. “What–”

The same fast footsteps from before now pelted down the stairs, and Starlet launched herself into Bucky’s arms, giggling as he lifted her small body from the floor and into the air with a grunt. “Are you going to behave for Fawn, honey?” he asked, resting Starlet on his side so her legs swung over his front and back. “You promised me you would, remember?”

Your heart swooped and lodged itself in your throat with the display of paternal affection.

“Yeah, I will,” Starlet replied, her small hands grabbing Bucky’s stubbled cheeks. “Daddy, you need to shave.”

No he does not, you thought privately.

“Thanks,” he replied, and he blew a raspberry on her chubby cheek. “Okay, be on your best behaviour; manners, honey, use them.”

“Mhm,” Starlet hummed. Bucky placed her gently down onto the floor, and her little, sparkled flats made a small click click sound as she walked towards you. “I’ll be good, daddy.”

You offered your hand to hold, and she took it eagerly, swinging your arm back and forth while Bucky grabbed his briefcase and bag. “I’ll be back late tonight, so don’t wait up for me,” he said to you. “Feel free to eat whatever or order in, my card is here–” He shoved a black card from his wallet into your free hand before you could protest. “And– Yeah, I’ll be back.”

“Bye, daddy!” Starlet called, pulling you along behind Bucky — who’s broad shoulders and muscled back was unfairly shown off by the cut of his shirt. “Talk to you later–”

“I promise, honey, I’ll call Fawn and say goodnight.” A dark blazer was pulled from its coat rack, and Bucky shrugged it on before he smoothed the wrinkles in the fabric, quicker than you could offer as you so desperately wanted to. “And in bed by eight, no later, understood?”

“Yes, sir.” You saluted, and the look Bucky shot you made you gulp — pure heat blazed in his eyes, and the flames that licked up your spine you dampened before reignited with a roar. “We– We’ll be good,” you stammered, praying to anyone that would listen above that you could survive the night with that visual at the forefront of your mind.

Bucky smiled and walked back to kiss his daughter on the cheek. Then, to your absolute mix of horror and surprise, he kissed your forehead, too. “My good girls,” he murmured, his eyes lingering on yours. “I’ll talk to you later.”

And the door closed with a finality that left you reeling.

“Can we go colour?” Starlet asked innocently, her bright eyes blinking up at you. “Daddy said he left me the best pencils and you brought pens?”

“Uh– Yeah, yeah—sure, we can go colour, sweetheart,” you said. Focus, you reminded yourself inwardly.

For hours, you spent your time between the set of plush couches in the expansive living room and marathoning movies that ranged from cartoons to the most ridiculous animations, to a small child’s table — colouring with the closest thing you would ever come to spending time with royalty.

Starlet certainly took it in her stride to act like a princess.

“But daddy said I could–”

“Go look at the fridge,” you said, smirking — you knew for a fact that she was attempting to pull the wool over your eyes. A deceptive, little lamb. “Daddy put the rules up there and he said, before he left, that you agreed to them—didn’t you, Starlet?”

Small, pink lips pouted heartily, and she stomped off towards the fridge, her shoes thudding over the floor. “Ugh.”

“Ugh, indeed.”

The night began to wind down a few hours later, and after colouring the whole duration, you decided a movie would be the best course of action to break up the monotony and brewing tantrum in the wriggling girl opposite you.

As a treat, you allowed Starlet to play a movie while she ate — only after she swore to you that she wouldn’t tell Bucky. The ploy worked, for as well as any child loved the idea of a secret, she fell head over heels into the sworn secrecy and happily tucked into her dinner while the princesses on the TV screen sang another rendition of the chorus.

You couldn’t help but watch her from the kitchen counter, where you were tidying away the dishes. It was with curiosity you admired the similarities between Starlet and her father, what you found and discerned during the short time of knowing the pair of them.

Starlet had the same bright eyes, the colour of her irises as beautiful as her father’s with the addition of an irreplaceable hint of childish awe and wonder. Her hair fell in waves; shades of what you could only describe as beautiful in the strands that prominently populated her temples to crown.

A sudden sense of contentment flooded you while you continued to gaze at her. Being invited and accepted into such a space was rewarding.

It was evident that Starlet’s birth mother was no longer in the picture, and you never planned to ask or know more than what you were told, but still, you wondered how Bucky was not snatched up. He was a charming, sweet man that adored his daughter — you would be lying if you didn’t take to heart the imagined scenarios that played over and over in your mind, of what it would be like just to be part of such domestic bliss.

The loud chime of your phone startled you from your thoughts, and you exhaled sharply just as Starlet’s head peered up and over the back of the couch. “Is that daddy?”

You looked down at your phone’s screen, smiling, and said, “Yeah, hang on, I’ll come sit with you and we can talk to him.” The screen flashed with colour as you swiped to accept his video call, and you were greeted with his bright smile.

“Hey, Fawn,” Bucky said happily, though he looked exhausted — the furrow between his brow had deepened in his absence from home. “How are my girls, huh? Behaving, I hope.”

“We’re here, we just finished having dinner,” you said, angling the phone to show a distracted Starlet, sans her plate (that of which had hastily been placed on the coffee table in front of the couch), and then back to you. “Starlet jumped up on the couch with me to say hello.”

Bucky narrowed his eyes, a playful smirk dancing on his lips. “Is that so? Alright, where’s my little girl?”

Starlet scrambled to sit right beside you, and her happy expression filled the screen while you chuckled. “Daddy!”

“Hey, baby girl,” Bucky cooed, his smile heart-warmingly fond. “Have you had a good day with Fawn?”

“Yeah,” she replied, nodding quickly. “We coloured and then watched movies and coloured more and–”

“A lot of princess duties,” you cut in, and Starlet giggled, her chubby cheeks turning pink with a blush. “We are in the presence of royalty, Sir Barnes.”

“Oh, do forgive me, your highness,” he replied with wide eyes. The camera shook as he moved, and you saw his desk top scattered with papers before the phone settled upright, pointing towards Bucky’s office chair. He bowed deeply — either intentionally, or ignorantly allowing his hair to fall over his face. When he looked up to the screen, loose tendrils of hair covered his forehead and danced over his eyes.

The last reserves of your self-preservation and dignity vanished as you tried to force your heart to not burst free from its new home in your throat — the way his eyes appeared through the slicked strands was an image you would never let escape.

“I humbly request an audience with the Princess.” Bucky neared the camera again, smirking — the bastard knew, you panicked.

Before you could spiral, beside you, Starlet said fiercely, “Of course, Sir Daddy.” She shifted to better look at the screen. “The Princess always has time for uh–”

“King, or knight,” you whispered into her ear.

“Knight!”

“How generous.” Bucky laughed heartily. He sat back in his chair and steepled his hands, showing off the glint of his rings and the generous muscle exposed on his forearms from his rolled-up sleeves. “Ah, my girls,” he sighed, looking into the camera. “I shouldn’t be too much longer—Uncle Stevie is being a punk–”

“Uncle Steeb!” Starlet squealed.

“Yes, uncle Steeb,” he echoed, and he looked off camera. “Get over here, she wants to see you.”

“Is that my favourite niece?” A second voice called, the volume increasing as they neared the desk. Starlet was positively vibrating out of her seat with excitement.

“Well, well, well,” they said, and suddenly, another handsome face came into view. He had blond hair that was slicked back, and his beard was neatly trimmed — deep, blue eyes glanced between you and Starlet with interest. “It is—hey, Bug!”

“Uncle Steeb! Uncle Steeb!” Starlet launched herself at the phone to hug the device to her chest and toppled it from your grip. “Oh– I sorry–”

“Don’t you worry, honey,” you soothed, and you ruffled her hair. “Just be careful, okay? Hang on, let’s pick this up–” The phone had thankfully been undamaged in the fall, and you smiled at the two men staring up at you with concern.

“You two okay?” Bucky asked — he was poised as though to run at a seconds notice.

“Yeah, all is good,” you replied, settling back on the couch. “Here you are, sweetie.”

Starlet held the phone as though it was a priceless jewel, and she spoke to her father and apparent uncle with such vigour it was as though she hadn’t seen them in weeks, rather than just a day. The topics broached what the princesses in the movie did, to what she coloured — it was an endless tirade of excitement that only made you smile as you watched on.

Soon enough, she started to yawn, though she tried to minimise and hide them. A father’s keen eye was not to be underestimated, however. “Baby, I think you better get to bed—it is close to eight,” Bucky said softly.

You glanced at the top of your phone’s screen to check the time for yourself, and you blinked — it was only seven when he first called.

“I’ll be home soon, and I will come and kiss you goodnight, okay? Fawn can put you to bed; she’s pretty good at bedtime stories, I hear.”

She looked up at you through glazed eyes. “You are?”

“I am,” you confirmed with a proud nod. “Why don’t you say goodnight to daddy now and we can get you set up and comfy in bed?”

“‘Kay,” Starlet mumbled sleepily. “G’night, daddy. I love you.”

Bucky smiled. “I love you, too, baby. I’ll come give you a kiss when I get home, I promise.”

You ended the call with a promise to do your best impression of the characters for Bucky, and beside you, Starlet sighed happily. “I love daddy; I love uncle Steeb.”

“I see that,” you chuckled quietly. “Now, c’mon, up you get—bedtime for her highness.”

It turned out to be a smooth, tantrum-free process, readying Starlet for sleep — she followed your guidance to a tee and had the independence to fit her title when it came time to pick out her favourite pyjamas.

She settled into the cocoon of blankets and plush toys that took up more room than her own small self on her bed, and you smiled down at her as you sat on the edge. Her small hand in yours made your heart leap.

There was a strange glint in her eye when she uttered your name sleepily. You raised a brow in curiosity. “Yes, honey?”

“Are you daddy’s friend?”

“Yes,” you said honestly, smiling. “Your daddy is a kind, thoughtful man. I am happy to be his friend—why do you ask, sweetheart?”

“I–” She swallowed and furrowed her small brows. “He told me one time that there are special friends, and I– I–”

“Oh, Starlet– No, no honey,” you rushed, desperately smothering the rising panic in your chest at her implementation — the curious nature of a child was never to be scolded, but you did not think you could stomach this conversation, not on the first damned night of being under his employment. “I work for your daddy, and my job is to look after you when he can’t, okay? That doesn’t mean I am, uh– A special friend of your daddy’s.”

As much as I wish to be, you whined internally — though saying that aloud would be catastrophic, you had no doubt about that. Focus.

“Oh.” That same thoughtful gleam returned in her eyes, and you braced for another round of interrogation — as intimidating as a child’s questions could be. “Well, I think you would be a nice special friend for daddy. He smiles a lot when he sees you.”

It was your turn to be absolutely dumbfounded. Words failed and escaped you; scattering to the winds, never to be seen again, while Starlet did nothing but stare up at you innocently, a soft smile pulling at her lips.

“Uh– Ha, well.” You coughed and leaned back a little, willing your mind to connect back with an acceptable train of thought. “Um– Thank you, thank you for that, sweetheart. That’s very sweet of you.”

Starlet beamed, brighter than the stars above. “You’re welcome.”

When she finally dozed off to sleep after your indulgent tale of Rapunzel, you padded ever so quietly from her bedroom and carefully closed the door with a soft click behind you.

You only made it a few steps towards the staircase before you had to stop and think — the dull thump of your back and shoulders hitting the wall made you grimace and look to Starlet’s door, though she did not rouse.

“Oh my fucking god,” you rasped, rubbing your face with your hands, distorting the sound of your distress. “Goddammit all, ugh.”

Desperation and pure want clawed at your insides, savaging your attempts to control your impulses; the need for Bucky’s attention blew out of proportion tenfold with the words from his daughter.

Carefully, you tiptoed down the stairs, one by one, until you stood in the kitchen.

“He smiles—he smiles when he talks about me,” you muttered, rubbing the back of your neck. The quiet sound of your feet padding over the tile grew in volume while you paced back and forth. “Bucky smiles—oh fucking hell.”

A war raged in your mind, split equal sides by morality and need; one side dead set on preventing you from making a fool of yourself, the other hell bent on allowing you in the indulgence of recklessness.

The possibility of it all not backfiring upon you was slim at best, but something nagged– No, pulled at your thoughts: what if Bucky felt the same?

“No, no,” you said aloud, grimacing. “That’s not possible—I can’t– He can’t, he’s older, successful–”

Your tirade was interrupted by a sudden beep from the security panel by the front door. “Front gate opened.”

“Shit.” You rushed to the front door and peered through the frosted glass. The fancy SUV that was parked next to your car before pulled into the driveway, headlights on and engine purring.

A heavy exhale of relief fell from your lips, and you resolutely decided to push the dilemma of his affection to the side; a project for the back burner that was your ever running mind.

The SUV parked and fell silent, the headlights and taillights dimming, and you turned back around towards the kitchen to heat up two plates of dinner in the oven — silently thanking your decision to make extra.

Footsteps sounded by the front door, and it swung open, not even creaking. “Fawn?” Bucky called quietly, his voice lowered so as to not awake Starlet upstairs. “Honey, where are you?”

“Kitchen—getting dinner for us.”

Soft footfalls came from the entryway and towards the kitchen, when Bucky rounded the corner. You smiled at him, which he returned tiredly. “Hey, how was Starlet? You okay?”

“She was great, we had fun, and she was sweet. I learned that Rapunzel is far superior over Sleeping Beauty, but nothing, of course, beats her ultimate favourite.” The oven behind you beeped, and you turned to open it and fetch the dish of food, but Bucky put a hand on your elbow and gestured for you to continue with your tale as he grabbed the oven mitts. “And she tried to worm more chocolate out of me, naturally.”

Bucky’s laugh sounded rich and deep, a sound you wished you could hear over and over. “I knew she would.” The dish in his hands was placed onto the countertop, and you set to cutting portions to eat; surreptitiously making sure Bucky had more than his fair share.

“Do you want to watch–”

“Why don’t we sit on the–”

The two of you stared at one another, eyes wide and smiles playing at the corners of your lips. “You first,” Bucky offered, chuckling quietly.

“I, uh– Do you want to sit on the couch–?”

“Sure, honey,” he replied, and he picked up your plate with his free hand. “Grab us a drink?”

You took a deep breath when Bucky turned his back to you. You’ve got this, you intoned.

Dinner was a quiet affair, and you were grateful for it — while it was your job and your pleasure to look after Bucky’s daughter, the little girl sure had boundless amounts of energy, and it was hard work keeping up with her.

After clearing your plate, you set it down onto the coffee table. Bucky was still going, so you settled into the plush cushions and watched the plain, mindless show without taking it in.

“Fawn, sweetheart?” Bucky whispered suddenly; voice close enough that you could feel the exhale of breath with his words.

You startled and blinked rapidly — the room was dark, the TV off and the lights dimmed.

“There you are,” Bucky cooed. He was sitting right next to you, his hand on your knee as he half faced you. “You fell asleep, honey—you feeling okay?”

“Oh– I, uh– Shit, I’m so sorry,” you rushed, sitting up. The blackened screen of the TV reflected the clock in the kitchen to show that it was only nine at night. “I better go—you no doubt want to go to sleep soon after such a big day–”

“Fawn, hey– Stop, it’s okay,” Bucky soothed, and he put a hand on your shoulder — the heat from his palm made your mind whirr with possibilities. “It’s okay. I let you sleep; you looked dead on your feet. I only woke you up because I thought you’d want to go home to your partner.”

Heat bloomed over your chest and up your neck, the way Bucky was staring at you made something stir that you would much rather stay dormant. “I, uh– Don’t have a partner, Mr. Barnes,” you whispered.

The silence could have engulfed you whole — tension billowed in the air, and you fidgeted, stubbornly refusing to meet his gaze.

“That’s okay, sweetheart,” Bucky said eventually, and you shivered at the sound of his voice; lowered an octave and raspy with what you guessed was shock. “I’m sorry, darling, I shouldn’t have assumed. But let’s get you home, okay?”

“Yeah,” you agreed, getting to your feet.

Bucky handed you your bag, all neatly packed and organised, and walked you to the front door and down the front steps. “I don’t mean to presume, but can I ask you back again to watch Starlet–?” he asked, looking at you.

“Of course,” you blurted, and you meant it. “She was a fun bundle of energy, and you know how to contact me if you need me again.”

You tried, wholeheartedly, to fight the flutter of butterflies in your stomach as Bucky opened your car door, and then took your bag to place it in the trunk. In a roundabout way, you wished he would be insufferable, even arrogant in his disposition — it would have made it easier to banish the swelling crescendo of want that started to consume you.

“Will you message me when you get home?”

“Yeah, yeah,” you said, nodding. “I– I will. I’ll talk to you soon.”

Bucky brought you close in an embrace you returned, and you savoured the warmth of his body; the feel of his arms around you as he held you tight.

Though it had to end.

You pulled away, out of his hold, and moved to sit in the driver’s seat of your car.

“Get home safe, Fawn.” Bucky closed the door after you tucked your feet into the well, and he leaned against the side of your car.

“I will.” You smiled up at him, and then you turned the keys in the ignition.

The car spluttered and clunked back to silence. Bucky was looking towards the hood of your car with concern. “Oh, it’s just temperamental,” you said to reassure him, and yourself.

You tried again; you tried a third time, but there was only a piteous groan from the engine before it gave in, falling silent each time. “Great, just great,” you muttered angrily, cursing your luck that carried on from when the car first showed signs of kicking the bucket. “Fuck.”

“Pop the bonnet,” Bucky said, adjusting his sleeves. “I’ll take a look.”

Oh, boy, you groaned internally at the sight of his forearms flexing again, but you complied.

The metal creaked and groaned its protest of movement when Bucky pulled the hood up, locking it in place with one hand while the other dug into the engine bay. A determined frown pulled his pretty lips at the corner. “The old girl is on her last legs,” he gritted out through clenched teeth while he fiddled and yanked at parts of the engine. “The mounts are close to giving out and it looks like the battery is… well, fucked.”

You sighed, the sound hitching on a frustrated sob. “Can you– Can you call me a cab? I’ll get someone to come tow it in the morning, or something–”

“Fawn,” Bucky said fiercely, and he looked at you while he closed the hood of your traitorous car. “Do you think I’m going to send you home with some stranger when you’re clearly and rightfully upset?”

“But–”

“But fucking nothing, sweetheart,” he insisted, his tone somehow soft — like he cared. “Please, I have a spare bedroom—fuck, I have several, and you are welcome to any one of them until we can get you home tomorrow.”

The use of a curse drove his point home, so did the earnest glare in his eyes.

Your shoulders slumped in defeat, and you gestured at yourself. “But I haven’t brought clothes– What about Starlet in the morning? She doesn’t know–” She will get the wrong idea; Bucky doesn’t know what she’s said, you silently fretted, but there was no way to give voice to your worries, not in your distress.

“Honey, please, you can use some of my old clothes—they’ll be comfortable, and you’ll be modest. Just let me help you,” Bucky implored. He held a hand out, an offering to guide you back inside. “We can work it all out in the morning. I’m off tomorrow, and hell, Starlet would love having a friend over for breakfast—it’s pancakes and bacon.”

“That does sound pretty good,” you murmured, wringing your hands. The nagging feeling of imposing upon his hospitality would not dissipate, though. “Are you sure? I–”

Bucky shook his head, an exasperated smile on his lips. “C’mere, Fawn,” he said, and he slung his arm over your shoulder. You attempted to clamp your jaw shut around the shocked sound in your throat. “I’m sure. I can’t leave my Fawn high and dry; not when I can help.”

“Okay,” you squeaked, and you allowed Bucky to lead you back into the house and up the stairs towards the bedrooms.

Without a word, he paused at the top of the stairs and retracted his arm, hanging it by his side as he walked towards a larger, single door — you moved to follow him, but he placed his index finger over his lips, before he disappeared behind it. The house was silent in the absence of Starlet’s giggles and rambling rants of royalty, and you found yourself fidgeting in place while you waited for that door to open again.

As though he heard you, Bucky opened the door and walked towards you, offering a worn, soft, black henley, and a pair of dark sweats. “Back in my twenties,” he began, smiling down at the offered clothes, “I was twice the size—fucking obsessed with vanity. But these will be comfortable.”

“Thank you,” you whispered, taking the offered clothes. The movement made your fingers brush against his, and something changed — the air grew thick with crackling energy that made the hair on the back of your neck stand on end. “I– I will, uh, talk to you in the morning?”

Bucky nodded and stepped back; you tried not to whine from the loss of his proximity — luck was not on your side. Something must have shown of your inward pleading in your expression.

“Fawn?” he asked quietly, tilting his head. “You okay, sweetheart? You look–” He licked his lips, the action drawing your whole attention. “You look lost.”

“I’m fine,” you replied weakly, and you nodded once as though it would make it reality. Truthfully, you wished the floor would open up and swallow you whole — the late hour naturally stripped you of your inhibitions, and God…

You cursed temptation to the high heavens.

“You sure?” Bucky asked, and he stepped closer again, his presence looming near enough to make your heart thunder against the confines of your throat.

“Mhm.”

Bucky narrowed his eyes, and stepped forward again — you stepped back, forcing yourself not to melt onto the floor with how your knees shook. “Sweetheart… There’s something you’re not tellin’ me.”

The sudden dryness in your throat made you cough, and your eyes watered with the reflex. Bucky stepped closer and you backtracked until your heels hit the skirting board, your shoulders and back following close behind. “I– Ja– I mean, Bucky–”

His hands moved to either side of your head, effectively trapping you in place. “Yeah?”

Your mouth parted in shock, but nothing came to mind to defend yourself, or any urge to push him away.

Bucky hummed, tilting his head. “Fawn, you know if this isn’t okay you are more than welcome to knee me where the sun doesn’t shine—but look at you.” The breathy quality of Bucky’s voice made your stomach knot with arousal.

This was wrong, your mind screamed; this is what you want, your heart shouted.

“You’re desperately fighting against something, I see it; it's in your pretty eyes, baby,” he purred. “Talk to me—tell me what’s wrong, why are you fightin’?”

Bucky’s face loomed closer to yours, his lips parted only slightly, and you prayed for strength as you fisted his shirt, to pull or push him away, you couldn’t decipher — he was so, so close, if only you just reached out–

“What are you fightin’, my little Doe?”

“Oh– Bucky, please–” Thoughts swirled and escaped your grasp, faster than you could claim the words and the will to do the right damned thing. “Please, I– Hmph!”

His lips claimed yours, the softness of them insistent, desperate, and you moaned into his mouth from the rush of adrenaline. “Yes,” you breathed against his lips, and you threw your arms around his neck, forgoing your hold on his clothes.

The sweetness of Bucky’s lips made you chase them when he tried to pull back; you were starved for more, and he obliged your hunger by pushing you harder into the wall, his hands moving down your shoulders, your sides, to settle on your hips with a bruising grip.

Bucky’s tongue brushed along your bottom lip, and you moaned again, letting your tongue dance with his; the relief of finally allowing yourself to give into the urge you’d been constraining against was liberating in every manner, even if it were risky, you were determined to make the best of it.

It was only when he pulled back for breath did you realise he had been pawing at your hip and ass, the fabric bunched in his fists while he panted for air. “Fuck,” he murmured, and he started to laugh, the sound rumbling in his chest through the gasps for air. “Fuck.”

“Yeah, that,” you agreed breathlessly. “Fuck.”

The two of you stood in silence, catching your breaths, and you waited for the fall out of it all; the implosion that lurked around the corner.

“Fawn,” Bucky said quietly, and his index finger brushed along the underside of your chin; grey, inky eyes met yours with such intensity you almost collapsed under the heat of them. “I want you, baby—I wouldn’t have gambled my chances if I didn’t even have a hunch of what was going on in that pretty head of yours.”

“How did–”

“Never you mind, sweetheart. I’ve had my fair few rodeos with this; I can read you like a book.” The soft press of his lips against your forehead made your heart flutter. “Why don’t you get some sleep, hmm? We can talk in the morning—bright eyed and bushy tailed.” His quiet chuckle made your lips quirk up in a smile. “There’s my girl.”

You were unable to form the words to express the inner turmoil that brewed — that had been the best kiss of your life, Bucky liked you back, you hadn’t lost your job as you thought you would, and you were standing in Bucky’s home with an assortment of his clothes to wear while you slept.

“Fawn, baby,” Bucky teased, and he pulled you away from the wall. His hands rubbed down your arms before he knelt and picked up his discarded clothes, handing them to you with a smile. “Go to bed—you look like you’ve seen a ghost and been given the best news all at once. Get some sleep.”

The bedroom he guided you towards was spacious and just as luxurious as what you had seen of the rest of his home. Light colours filled the room; pastels and darker pops of paint made it contrast in a tasteful way, while the linen and pillows looked divine. He stood in the doorway, arms crossed across his chest and a smile on his swollen lips. “If you need anything, sweetheart, I’m just down there,” he said, pointing down the hall, back towards the room with the larger door. “Sleep well and I’ll see you in the morning.”

You looked at him, blinked, then smiled. “Yeah– Yeah, goodnight, Bucky.”

Relief, elation, fear all flooded you at once as you sidled up the mattress and under the covers. They drowned you beneath the waves of overwhelming thoughts of what would happen now; fear for what your future held.

Would it include Bucky? What would Starlet think?

It all amounted to the sheer relief that while you hadn’t initiated the risk, it happened, and your courage bound and leaped with joy for it.

And if you did a little squeal of joy and grinned wide enough to make your cheeks hurt as you tucked yourself into the plush blankets to sleep, it was nobody's business but your own.

the next part is already written. 😉🤭

⠈⠂⠄ 𝐢𝐧𝐛𝐨𝐱 | 𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲 | 𝐚𝐨𝟑 ⠄⠂⠁

⠈⠂⠄ 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 ⠄⠂⠁

#bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x f!reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x female reader #bucky x f!reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes oneshot #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fluff #dilf bucky barnes #rookthorne's works #babb2023 #alternate juneiverse #SweetSpicyHearts

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