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#i could spend a whole day just looking at worth dresses
stars-and-darkness · a month ago
@ravkanfashion please accept my humble offerings:
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House of Worth French dinner dress, silk, ca. 1877
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House of Worth evening dress, silk, 1882
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angrythingstarlight · 6 months ago
I’m The Lucky One
Summary: You help Bucky with some Saturday morning work and get a surprise of a lifetime.
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 Pairing: BeefyBiker Bucky x Reader
Warnings: Fluff, Beefy Biker Bucky being sweet. 
A/N: Requested. Unbetad, let me know if you catch any mistakes! Wrote something fluffy to get out of my slump. 
Do not copy, rewrite, translate or post my work anywhere. No permission given to copy, translate, rewrite or post any parts of my stories.  𝘗𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵, 𝘳𝘦𝘣𝘭𝘰𝘨 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 (𝘐 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵)
Check out my Masterlist and Taglist! Requests are closed
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 Bucky is insatiable for you, his desire and never-ending craving for you is extended beyond physical attraction. He loves your mind, your heart, the little things that make you so uniquely you. There are so many reasons he loves you, why he will always love you and why he would do anything you wanted him to do. 
Your voice is without a doubt his favorite sound. He could listen to you talk about anything.
 He loves to hear you say good morning to him each day, when you’re still groggy and holding to the last moments of rest. He can’t describe how much he lives for you to smile at him right before you get up, sweet and spontaneous, just for him. 
Or when you say I love you, oh gorgeous, he can’t get enough of that. When you first said those three little words to him, he almost passed out. 
And he wasn’t ashamed to admit that to you, proud to tell you that you made him feel dizzy, off-balance, his body melting under your sweet gaze his stomach twisting into knots, an indescribable feeling of relief because you loved him back.
You changed his world; you are his world now.
Bucky has told you time and time again that he’s obsessed with you, his fundamental purpose in life is to make you happy. The fact that you’re happy with him, that you want to be with him, is something he will never take for granted. 
He wants to keep you all for himself and show you off at the same time. It’s hard to do both now that you won’t let him rail you on the front lawn anymore. You go to jail one time and suddenly it’s “not here Bucky, put it away, we're in public Bucky, our friends are sitting right beside us Bucky, this is a family restaurant Bucky.”
While he would have rather spent Saturday morning in bed with you, it was his weekend to set up the bar and check inventory before it opened this evening. Bucky was ecstatic that you decided to join him today. His only condition was that you wear his black henley with those shorts that he bought you, the ones with the deep back pockets, that lets his whole hand slide right in.
While fastening your helmet, he not so casually remarked, “Gorgeous, you know if your hand happens to slip down while we’re riding-oof” he cuts off when you elbow him in the stomach, “what?” he questions innocently straddling the seat.
“I’m not going back to jail, Bucky,” you laugh, hopping on the back of the bike. “How many times do I have to tell you that?” 
“It was worth it” Bucky glances over his shoulder, revving the engine with a devious grin, his brows wiggling, “I got bail money.” 
“Bucky, no that’s not the point. You know what? Drive, Barnes.” You spend the entire trip laughing and shooting down all his reasons why you should risk it again. You keep your hands firmly around his waist, much to his dismay.
Bucky walks you into the bar, holding your hand, still trying to persuade you to give into him. Nudging him with your hip, you wave at Wanda, the beautiful redhead, unloading a crate of imported whiskey. 
“Hey, Wanda, do you need me to help with anything?” 
You both ignore Bucky’s protests that you were only here to keep him company. “Yeah, if you could clean out of the booths over that would be great, we got slammed last night, and I was too exhausted to finish cleaning.” 
“Got it,” you smile, picking up a few rags off the counter. You order Bucky to go in the back and do his work while you clean. Wanda cackles, deep belly laughing that ends in a snort, when he storms off with a pout, mumbling about how you’re not helping him, he’s going to be lonely in the back. 
“Only Bucky, I swear you have the man whipped,” Wanda gasps out, wiping the tears from her eyes, “that reminds me, Sam owes me thirty bucks from our little bet.” 
For a second you stare in confusion, Wanda stares back at you, her head cocked to the side, then she smirks.
“the party,” she replies, dragging out the words. 
Right, right, right. 
You duck your head, cheeks blazing as you walk to the first booth, wiping away crumbs while she laughs again. You’re on the second booth when you hear the door open and Wanda greets Peter. He’s the newest hire, Tony pretty much adopted him when he asked to intern at the mechanic shop next door, he splits his time between learning bartending on the weekends and working on classic cars during the weekdays.
You think he’s a sweet guy, completely unaware of his crush on you. As soon as Peter sees you, he follows you around the bar, offering to help you as you finish cleaning. His awkward attempts at conversation make you grin. 
He’s staring at you in absolute wonder when you describe your job. It shouldn’t be that interesting but everything you say captivates Peter. You’re perched on the edge of the table, your legs swinging as you talk, Peter sitting beside you, his head propped up on his hand, a wide grin etched on his face 
It’s at that moment Bucky strolls out of his office. 
Because of how insatiable Bucky is, most people assume he is also the jealous type. When, in fact, he’s the exact opposite. He’s so confident in your bond and love that he doesn’t care if someone speaks to you, hell they can even flirt if they dare. He enjoys watching them try and fail spectacularly.   
Bucky knows that you only want and love him. 
And let them look. 
He can’t blame anyone for wanting to stare at you, because you are so damn gorgeous. Specifically, when you saunter around the house wearing only his shirts. You learned early in the relationship that even when you think you look terrible; he thinks you’re beautiful. It’s why your nickname is gorgeous. It doesn’t matter if you’re dressed to the nines or in sweatpants and an old t-shirt, you’re pretty no matter what.
Touching is a completely different matter. He doesn’t like people putting their hands on you, a matter of fact he doesn’t even like you putting your hands on you. The only hands he wants on you are his. Oh, you have an itch, Bucky can scratch that for you, your back hurts, Bucky will massage it. Your butt hasn’t been smacked in two hours, he’s on it. 
Now, most people know about your relationship and how crazy your man is, so besides your close friends and family, people are careful to not be disrespectful. He has no problem stepping in and defending you from anyone who would even think about upsetting you. In fact, you only have to ask or give him that look and he’s ready to go. 
He’s known about Peter’s infatuation for a while and he can’t even blame the kid, Bucky feels the same way each and every time he sees you. He leans against the end of the bar, listening to you talk, your hands moving adorably in the air, emphasizing your point as you get more excited. It’s little moments like this, that he cherishes when you’re nearby and happy. 
After a few minutes, you hop down and go to the bathroom, giving Bucky a kiss when you pass him. He strolls over to Peter who gawking at you with a stuporous expression; he slumps down in the chair beside him. 
Peter takes a deep breath, sighing, “She’s so-” 
“Yeah, she is,” he nods, the corner of his lip turning up. 
“How did you even get her, she’s,” Peter sighs again. 
Buck leans back, folding his hands behind his head, “no idea, but I’m doing everything I can to keep her.” 
“I wouldn’t even know what to do with-” Peter coughs, suddenly remembering who he’s talking to, stammering, “uh Bucky, I mean Mr. Bucky, Mr. Barnes, I didn’t mean-” 
Bucky chuckles, slapping him on the back, “no worries kid, I get it, she is incredible, best damn person I know, she’s perfect, wonderful, kind and way more than I deserve.” Bucky leans in, looking Peter in his eyes, “And she would kill you, she’s also insatiable and a little wild and you wouldn’t be able to handle her.” 
Coming back into the main area, you’re a few steps away from Bucky, your grin sliding off your face when you hear his last statement. Placing your hands on your hips, you tilt your head in disbelief. I’m insatiable, me, really Bucky, the nerve of this man, you think. 
Bucky closes his eyes, his hand over his heart, continues as Peter beams at you over Bucky’s shoulder, “I can barely handle her, not going to let that stop me from marrying her, I have the whole thing planned out, next week I’m taking her to where we had our first date and I’m-.” 
You turn to Wanda, who meets your wide eyes. “You’re getting married,” she screams, the bottle of gin in her hand shaking when she jumps up and down. Bucky whips around at the sound of your combined joyous squeals. 
Bucky’s head snaps around to a chagrined Peter, “I-you’re dead kid, dead.” 
Peter scoots off the table, yelling out congratulations. You wrap your arms around Buckys neck, kissing the side of his face until he forgets that he’s upset that his proposal is ruined.
“Will you at least act surprised?” he asks when you gleefully climb on his lap. 
“Yes,” You say without hesitation, gazing up at him, the love shining in your eyes making his head spin, he can only hope you’ll always look at him like that. 
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buckybarnesdiaries · 6 months ago
white wolf: “the story of a first date”
first part — second part — third part — fourth part (soon)
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© @capsgrantrogers
bucky barnes x reader. ⎢ masterlist.
Sam helps Bucky to ask you out for a date and it's a disaster, but he gets it.
word count: 3.147 words. (not sorry, it worth it, i promise!!!)
warnings/tags: none. bucky being the cutest gentleman in the whole wide world, and sam keeping an eye on him.
author notes: as it happened with the first part, i'm not really happy with the result but i had so much fun writing it and i think that that made this writing perfect, so i hope you enjoy it as much as i enjoyed it. none of my stories contain reader’s body descriptions to be inclusive.
Join the tag list here.
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The car stopped because of a red light, a moment where Sam took the advantage to turn at his copilot, glancing at Bucky from top to bottom in complete silence. Analyzing him. The soldier tilted his head raising an eyebrow, showing his curiosity about what the hell he was doing.
“What are you gonna wear, uh?” Sam asked then, maintaining a serious gesture on his face.
“Clothes”. Unworriedly, he put back his eyes to the front window.
“You probably look good naked, but that’s not what I’m talking ‘bout”.
“Just… some jeans, a shirt, and a jacket”.
“And shoes, I guess”.
Bucky turned on his seat towards his friend, squinting confused for the interrogatory. “Who cares?”
“About the shoe—”
“About the clothes”.
“Man, it’s a date! Do you wan’her to remember this night as the night Bucky Barnes shown up as a Russian bum?”
“I’m from Brookl—”.
“Yeah, but you look like mother Russia just spat you to the world”.
Sam rolled his eyes as a sigh escaped his mouth. Shaking his head, he took the next corner to the fifth avenue changing the planes they had in mind. A good outfit meant a good date. A good date meant happy soldier. Happy soldier meant no trouble. See the point? So the Falcon would take care of the Winter Soldier today. If only Steve could see them. He’d feel proud, that was for sure. They visited a couple of shops, finally letting Sam take control over the situation and pick the clothes he would wear for you. He had good taste, everybody knew that, and Bucky couldn’t complain about his choices.
Even less when the distinctive black suit dressed his anatomy to perfection. Spinning around in front of the mirror, he felt different. He looked different. He looked good, but not as he’d like. Holding the bucket of flowers once he was ready, Bucky left his apartment straight to the garage under the building. He was nervous, he couldn’t lie. But he had that sensation inside him that made him believe everything would be okay for the first time since he woke up.
The road didn’t take him more than ten minutes, not really worried about the time given that he had planned to arrive a little sooner than accorded. Life seemed like it was smiling at him, finding a parking lot in the same entrance. Landing his blue eyes on the rearview mirror, Bucky took a last view at his reflection, brushing back his hair as he used to do in the forties. He grabbed then the flowers he bought for you and stepped out of the car, trying to remember the advice Sam gave him. Resting his back against the copilot's door, he waited impatiently for you.
“Hey, you”.
His heart stopped for a second, raising his orbs to the man coming closer. Before he could react, the man in question tucked a hand beneath Bucky's jacket. Patting him down.
“What the hell are you doing, Sam?” He questioned irritatedly, slapping his hands and causing him to laugh.
“Just checking you didn't bring the notecards again”.
“Yeah, very funny…”
“Man, look at you! Should be illegal to look this good, uh?” Sam helped him to put on the jacket again, receiving another slap from his friend.
“Don't touch me”. Scowling, he fixed the flowers in his left hand, wanting them to be perfect. “Anyway, what are you doing here?”
“Watch you till (Y/N) comes. Lemme take a picture, I feel like a proud father on his son's prom day”.
“You're not m— Get the hell outta here, Sam”.
“Fighting again, kids? Should I call your mama?”
As Bucky heard you scoff, his soul abandoned. His pupils dilated. His legs trembled. And he could swear that everything disappeared around him when he watched you going downstairs, swinging your hips unconsciously sensual, with a black dress fitting you like a glove. If this morning Bucky wanted to marry you, now he wanted to spend the rest of his life by your side. Your makeup was on point, just like your hair, not being too formal but enough to run him out of words.
“Steve is off-duty, so, what 'you gonna do, soldier?” Sam mocked, an instant before noticing how pale Bucky was. He couldn't help but slap the back of his neck to bring him back to reality.
“I, uh… flowers… I bought you…”
“You're not Yoda”. Sam whispered as the other offered you the present.
“C'mon, stop messing with him”. You clicked your tongue, right before you drew an adorable smile on your lips, leaning to kiss Bucky's cheek. “Thank you”.
“You're welcome”. He just answered, responding to your same gesture while opening the door for you.
“Such a gentleman…” His playful murmur made Bucky frown and nudge him, trying to stop him from saying anything else and ruin the occasion.
“I'll bring him back at ten”. You joked palming his chest.
“The point is to not bring him back to me”. Sam cackled, shaking his head and taking a step back.
Once in the car turning on the engine, James joined the road after checking you were good. Never in his life he had driven with so much care as if he was carrying a bomb by his side. He set on the radio, not really knowing how to start a conversation, watching you through the corners of his eyes caressing the flowers over your lap. No one had bought you them before, thinking it was a thing that only happened in movies. But then, you met Bucky. An old-fashioned man, making yourself wonder how he was the same the news used to say he was a cold-blood assassin.
“What have you thought?”
“About the date”.
“Sam told me about a rest—”.
“Okay, okay, Bucky. Pull over”. You couldn't help but burst into laughter, as his face was pale again thinking you were about to step out and end the date.
“Sorry, did I…?”
You swiveled at him on your seat, kissing your teeth and squinting inevitably. Studying his face you knew how afraid he was, and it was the most adorable reaction ever. You could have kissed at that precise instant, but it'd have been a little awkward.
“Where do you wanna go?”
The question didn't take him by surprise, actually. He was still getting used to doing the things he desired and not what other people asked him to do. The restaurant was a fancy place with a distinguished menu according to what his friend explained to him, but it wasn't the kind of site that he'd normally go, or that represented him.
“When I, uh… came back, I discovered that my favorite burger joint in Brooklyn was still standing”. Bucky told you, facing you after finishing the sentence. “They prepare the best burgers of the whole New York and you can decide what ingredients add, and the bread, and the kind of meat. And it still having the original decoration”.
You reclined on your seat, just staring at him talking with that kind of burning passion about something he loved. Puckering your lips, you nodded your chin. The fact that not only he wanted to take you to a different place, but a place that he used to go to when he was young made butterflies flutter within your belly. Bucky wanted to make you part of his future, but also his past. That made the difference.
“Sounds good to me”.
“Really?” He inquired funnily confused, wrinkling his nose and forehead.
The shine that appeared within his eyes made you place a hand on his cheek to urge him to turn his head and drive again. An innocent gesture that provoked him a lively giggle. If that man knew all the things he caused you, he'd have taken the step months ago.
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As the night went on and Bucky was losing his shyness, he talked to you about the good old times. Before HYDRA, before the winter, before the war. When he was a kid with no worries more than keeping Steven safe from the bullies. It was nice to disconnect from the present, from the gazes around the two of you, from the back talks, only enjoying your dinner and your conversation. You talked to Bucky about how was to be raised on a farm, surrounded by open fields and animals, to join the army years later. Without going into details that could make him remember the old bad times, you told him about what you used to do, your missions, and how you were wounded in combat after being shot and fell from a helicopter.
Bucky felt confident enough to compare it with how everything started. Falling from a wagon to the snow. But as soon as his voice became lower, you couldn't help but hold his gloved left hand and intertwine your fingers with his. And you could swear you felt him shaking for a brief moment because of your touch.
“So, what, uh? It was a forties trend to jump into the void?” You tried to joke, wanting to feel relaxed.
“Yeah, seems like”. He mumbled curling up his lips. “Listen… I really want to… open up, and I know it’s easier with you because… y’know, you work doing this”.
“Hold on, Bucky”. You laughed waving your free hand, shaking your chin as you closed your eyes for a second. “That has sounded really bad”.
“Wait, wh— Oh, shit, no, no, no”.
For the first time since you walked into the small restaurant, his laughter was lively, unworriedly, honest.
“Take it easy, just kidding”. You grinned, nailing your elbow on the table to rest your cheek on your palm. “But… this isn’t work. We’re not doing therapy, we’re… knowing each other. And I don’t want to pressure you to talk about something you don’t feel prepared to, okay?”
“I know”.
Bucky couldn’t believe how much you seemed to empathize with him, not judging his acts nor his past, not deciding that the date wasn't a good idea nor running away. He couldn’t believe the less importance you were giving to his arm made of vibranium; usually, people used to freak out, to feel frightened somehow about the things it could do. But you were there, fingers playing with the others as if it was the most common and natural act in the world. And, for you, it was. That was you in all your best. Considerate, smart, patient, lovingly. The rainbow after a stormy life. Everything that Bucky needed in his life to start from scratch and be his better version. A shoulder to lean on and a reason to come back home.
“Was afraid of asking you out”. He confessed after some seconds admiring each other. Any person closer would say you had been dating for a long, long time by the way you had to keep silent and not feel uncomfortable.
“You came from war and made your world a place to live. I’m still stuck there”.
“I have my own red flags”. Clicking your tongue, you rolled your eyes.
“Oh, really? Please, surprise me”. Bucky teased you sitting up on his chair, not loosening the gentle grip around your left hand.
“I put the milk before cereals”.
“Oh… Oh, God”. He let out, pretending to be horrified and running a hand on his face. “Goddammit… you’re a monster, ma’am. I don’ think this is going to work”.
“Excuse me?” You chuckled, parting your lips in a breath while leaning over the table to palm his right shoulder. “It wasn’t me who added lettuce to the burger”.
“What? What’s the matter with that, uh?”
“Lettuce kills the savor!”
“Y’know what kills the savor? Ketchup. Today, people use ketchup literally with everything… And that’s disgusting”.
“Okay! Next time, no lettuce, and… no ketchup”.
“That’s a big challenge”. Bucky scoffed tenderly squeezing your hand between his cold fingers.
“I’ll live, Sergeant Barnes”. You narrowed your eyes and crinkled your nose at the same time.
“I was talking about a second date, not about your issue with ketchup”.
“So was I”.
A goofy smirk appeared on Bucky’s face, biting his inner cheek as he assented with his head. Seeing you again, knowing that you wanted it —that you wanted him—, made him trust Dr. Raynor’s words. He was having a second chance to do the right thing. To live and to be.
You wanted to add something else when the clock in his wrist started to beep. Curious, you raised an eyebrow. “We have to leave”.
“Sam told me you work tomorrow at eight, which means you’ll get up at six and a half… maybe seven. While I pay, take you home, all that stuff… I don’ want you to be tired in the morning”.
Bucky would never stop to amaze you, looking up to him in silence to contemplate how he called the bartender and beckoned his free hand to ask for the bill.
“What…? What are you doing?” He chuckled embarrassed, taking his beer to sip.
You cleared your throat when you realized how stupid you should look right now, shaking your head as you freed his cold hand from yours to find unlock your phone as soon as the guy brought the dataphone.
“Hey, no, no. I asked you out, I pay”. Bucky began to fight with you, provoking some laughs on the table as you tried to put your screen above the tpv.
“Well, welcome to the twenty-first century”. You hummed as the operation was confirmed.
“I’ll pay next time”. He declared licking his incisors, prior to his lips.
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You wished the ride back home to last forever, not wanting to end the date. But the car reached your neighborhood in a blink of eyes. You couldn't help but sigh barely appreciably for your companion, gazing through the window until double parking in front of your apartment. You turned towards him, hearing the engine shut off. Bucky seemed disappointed like you, not being able to remember when was the last time he had a break, he had fun. The date was nicer than he expected but the idea of not knowing exactly when he was going to see you again was killing him from the inside.
“I'll accompany you”. He declared undoing his seat belt as you did to step out.
You reacted with a delicate smile, holding the bucket of flowers against your abdomen while walking to the front door of the building. That moment was a little uncomfortable, not being sure about how to say goodbye, just looking like two teens in love.
“Thank you for tonight, Bucky”. You uttered without thinking about it. “It's been the best night I've ever had”.
“Next will be better, I promise”.
“That's a big challenge”. You chuckled repeating his words a while ago in the restaurant.
“I'll live”. He nodded convinced, glancing at you bowing down your interest to the red roses between your hands.
How could you tell him that you were dying to be together again? That you wouldn't mind waking up sooner and having breakfast? You bit your inner upper lip, trying to find the correct words to say, without sounding like you were feeling something else to a physical attraction. Bucky was hot as hell, that wasn't up to debate, but he was the kindest and charmingest man you had known. He was sensible and strong at the same time. You both complemented the other like the pieces of a puzzle and you never thought something like that could happen to you. To find your other half and having it so clear you didn't want anyone else.
“I am, uh… free tomorrow”.
His words pushed you out of your thoughts, putting up your attention to a Bucky almost flushing, stroking the back of his head, and having the impression that he could scare you.
“Got a break for lunch, if you want”. You proposed without hesitation.
His eyes sparkled with happiness, holding your left hand with his to bring it to his mouth, placing a fond kiss on the back. Such a gentleman, like Sam said, inducing your cheeks to burn. And then, you saw him doubting about taking another step. You wanted it too to happen, tho, leaning forward to press your lips together. Your eyes snapped closed at that precise instant, not having any rush, tasting each other's and shortening the distance between both of you by his free arm getting wrapped around your waist. The kiss was innocent but passionate. It was warm, intimate, trying to transmit all the chemistry you woke up within the other with only one look, with only one smile. Breaking it —much to your regret— when you needed air to breathe. And even so, Bucky rested his forehead against yours freeing your hand to place it on the right side of his neck.
Neither of the two of you opened your eyes, extending the moment as much as you could. You felt he craved to spend the night with you, and you desired it too, but you also felt that he needed some time to get used to this new world he was living in. It wasn't easy. You thought back to the months after the war, the recovery, the loneliness you forced yourself to be in. You were in Afghanistan for three months. He had been fighting since nineteen forty. And he didn't want to ruin what you were building together.
“I should leave”. Bucky murmured against his wishes.
“See you tomorrow”.
At the moment you opened your eyes to meet the pale blue ones, your whole body felt weak. You saw the brightness in them after letting him know that the second date was going to happen and that it wasn't just a formality before disappearing, wiping out any minimal doubt by kissing him again. The last kiss. A good night, I'll dream with you kiss.
“I'm gonna play this on your wedding day, definitely”.
You screamed because of the unexpected metallic voice coming closer, clinging to Bucky's neck as his heart raced too. Redwing was suspended in the air some steps away from you, being controlled by Sam. Who else is not him, uh?
“I'm starting to think you have separation anxiety”. The soldier growled trying to hit the flying device with his flesh hand, hearing you laughing against his chest.
“Good night, kids”. You chuckled separating from Bucky.
“No kiss for me, soldier?”
“I'm not gonna kiss that thing, Samuel”.
“What about a howl, White wolf? Would be very appro—”.
“White wo—”.
“Please, don't. Don't ask”. Bucky begged you, licking his bottom lip while rubbing the back of his head, clearly ashamed.
“Hope you show me one day what it means…”
“Oh, he will… Just wait till the full moon”.
“Sam!” Bucky and you yelled in unison, you playfully, he annoyed.
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amazingphilza · 7 months ago
twitchcon :: cc!multiple x reader
fluff , platonic , gender neutral ! some mcyt headcanons if you were to attend twitchcon w them
cc’s included in order: tommyinnit , tubbo , ranboo , wilbur soot , philza , technoblade
cw: kinda lengthy for the minors (i think), not as much for the hags LMAO /hj
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this man is so excited to be at his first twitchcon & being able to hang out with all his best friends makes it a hundred times better
when he isn’t at a panel or doing meet & greets, he’s dragging you everywhere to see the whole convention center (clingyinnit)
he is just so at awe despite this not being his first convention to attend
you’d be surprised he gets tired pretty quickly & stops over to the partner lounge
you both rest for a bit against a wall in a pretty packed hallway despite it being an exclusive area to twitch partners
every time a famous streamer walks by he will yell it out and record it then vlog your reaction, even if they’re surrounded with bodyguards & trying to get to another place quickly
he’d zoom in his camera to their face at a horrible angle and be like
“oh my god it is THE ninja. ninja famous fortnite player, HELLO.”
but he gets completely ignored
then the camera pans out to you, still really zoomed in that the capture is blurry
tommy is so confused, forgetting the bit ninja did on his twitter where he renamed himself ‘ninjainnit’ for a split second
okay tommy isn’t that athletic but he will chase you and the rest of your group down a hallway if he had to
he’d probably find a toy gun from the artist alley/seller booths and shoot you and wilbur with it
but if tommy stumbles across any of the dream team, it’s about to be minecraft manhunt but irl
and he will def play his stream music while walking or smth when he’s bored (or trying to jump dream & sapnap)
oh my god,, now thinking about it he’s probably the one to open like random doors of empty rooms and steal stuff while you film him
like he will take a random empty glass, a bunch of pens, a freebie t-shirt, everything he sees he takes with him and you’re just panic
“tommy we’re literally not supposed to be here, and i’m stuck here filming you. it’s surely a felony in action”
“well, it’s their fault for leaving the doors open! plus this is great content. who’s the dirty crime boy now, HM?”
you’d tell wilbur about this and he’d scold tommy and threaten him with the same pen tommy stole
tommy probably would also drag you some weird event happening outside twitchcon along with tubbo and ranboo
“pokimane is giving out free pizza to everyone if we go to this one restaurant down the street!”
“we are literally gonna get bombarded. have you forgot you’re like three of twitch’s top streamers? i’d rather pay for all of our meals than try getting free pizza from pokimane against all her other fans”
“DEAL! let’s go to five guys then!”
you unfortunately end up paying for all 3 of their meals and picking on their food instead of buying your own
even with all of them making way more money than you, they still happen to be cheapskates
OR tommy will end up getting a burrito from a taco truck, immediately making a mess of himself, then proceed to complain how messy the food is to eat despite knowing what he was getting himself into before even ordering
“shit my clothes are all ruined now!”
“well that’s your fault you got a burrito, as if it’s your first time having one”
“i mean the food is good, i’m not complaining about that but i don’t think it’s that good that it’s worth costing my red and white shirt, im just saying”
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same with tommy, he is so excited
i don’t know why but i imagine him overpacking his suitcase and you making fun of him for it
anyway tubbo has his irl backpack on and streaming EVERYTHING
probably spends a lot of time at a bunch of different booths, checking out all the pointless gadgets he could buy for his stream
you’re the one to stop him from doing so
“okay theoretically speaking, how the hell are you going to even bring it home? which—let me remind you—is across the country for you and not to mention the giant ocean separating america and the uk”
“free ship-pang!!!”
“i hate to break it to you tubbo but there is no way you can get free shipping on a FIVE FOOT PC. it’s nearly as tall as you! what are you even gonna do on it, hack the government???”
the arguments are all lighthearted but eventually you give in and let him splurge over a thousand dollars in different devices he claimed he “needed”
i could honestly see him visiting the beaches in san diego and going for a swim or even renting out a boat to use for a bit :D
also he’d bring benson along with him and taking a bunch of scenic photos with it in them
i have a feeling he’s the type to schedule a spontaneous meet & greet because he was bored & gets in trouble for causing a mob in a certain part of the convention
he’s like “oh god, i did not expect this many of the bois to show up AHAHAH oops”
tubbo would def pull a lilypichu and bring his melodica or ukulele and play themes while following random people/cosplayers
at the end of the day, you’d find his bag just stuffed with crap he either got for free or bought in the convention
“how did you get all that stuff? i was with you all day??? and it’s only the first day of the convention, hello?? it looks like you’ve been collecting as if twitchcon has went on for a week already!”
“HA i have my ways, do not underestimate my powers”
lani would probably tag along for the vacation honestly
like whenever someone comes up to her giving her gifts/asking for pics, you and tubbo would tease her about how famous she is
and i dunno but something about tubbo just gives me this amusement park energy and going to legoland and spending the whole day there since it’s near by and because he can
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he is like a beacon in a sea of people, that’s it .
i honestly just see him causing as much chaos as the other two
ranboo would probably like take someone’s camera whether if they’re streaming or if it’s for the vlog, hold it up high, and point the camera directly above someone’s face
it did not matter how tall you were and if you had platform shoes on, ranboo was a skyscraper next to you
“HAHAH this is how i see you from this height, this is funny”
then he shows you the vid of the recording of him getting like an aerial view of your face
like you see your nose and all your pores and just overall a bad angle to be captured in
i dunno why but i feel like he’d jump scare every person that was cosplaying as his minecraft character from behind for some reason
“ranboo i’m not even remotely dressed as your skin—”
“don’t worry i’m practicing it’s fineee”
“you’re like the height of 2 people combined, i think you will be fine as is. you even intimidated the security at the front”
i feel like if he had his own panel he’d like pull up some undertale song in the middle of it and scare all the people in the crowd
“lore but in real life”
probably would get some matching keepsake with you from artist alley/the booths!
i could imagine like a cute keychain or smth :D
i feel like he’s the type to like randomly volunteer as a participant for those mini events in a booth thinking it would be funny but regrets it the moment he’s on stage
after introductions the presenter is like “okay ranboo, you will be given a random meme prompt above your head you won’t be able to see until after and you will have to make a random face to compliment it!”
and you can just tell by his facial expression he’s just thinking
oh god what have i gotten myself into
what is this game? who came up with this idea?
you’d laugh at him the whole time, even after he’s off the stage and finished with that small fiasco
“that was horrible. never again.”
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wilbur soot
honestly with wilbur it’s slightly more chill
he already experienced twitchcon before so he’s just glad to see his friends again after so long
insists that you explore the convention yourself rather than sticking with him the whole time but you do anyway!
wilbur would probably have like a mini concert and gets you front row seats with the rest of the group
but that doesn’t mean before it that you’re not helping him set up
“y/n please– my amp is so heavy, i can carry it”
“don’t worry! i’m strong” :D
and musically talented or not, he will probably bring you and the rest of his friends up to stage to just vibe and sing a bunch of random acoustic songs
it’s not like some big concert hall stage,, i imagine more like a casual thing w a slightly higher platform from the ground yk?
after spending a long day at the convention he’d also bring everyone across the city to la jolla or smth !
you’d all probably have dinner there and chill, watching the pretty sunset
“this place is really pretty but oh my god im gonna lose my breath hiking up this stupid hill, please slow down”
and wilbur is like ??? because he’s completely fine with his long legs and everything
“just walk faster”
“no, you walk slower”
AHAHAH and for context traversing through la jolla by walking around the town is a bit hard since it’s basically on a bunch of hills (walking up from the beach to a restaurant actually is actually sm work, trust me ive been there)
wilbur honestly doesn’t spend that much time in the actual convention center, he’s probably sightseeing a bit of san diego with you instead
but i could imagine him staying at the tabletop games area playing dnd or smth
“c’mon y/n, come join!”
“uhh i’m not sure, i’m not the best at roleplay and...”
“it’s fine don’t worry!”
he’d pull you in with him and end up enjoying yourself even if it was your first time
and if you’re of age, you’d be wilbur’s +1 at the twitch partner party and make sure mans doesn’t too drunk
if it’s not too late in the night, you two would chill at the beach after the party
it’s just a nice, calming moment after all the loud music mixed with hundreds of conversations at the party
also something about like taking polaroids pictures with wilbur just seems to go hand in hand for me
i’m not sure why but you will be taking lots of pics with wilbur for sure (not necessarily you both in the photo, but of sceneries as well while you’re together!)
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literally a dad on vacation with his children, it doesn’t matter how old you are
need sunscreen? surprisingly has it
want a snack? probably has a small granola bar somewhere in his bag
but same with wilbur, he’s more chill like this isn’t his first time at twitchcon
omg he’d def bring you to the artist alley and just buy a bunch of fanart and stuff tho
“oh wow look phil, someone made a giant poster of the dream smp and shit!”
“holy shit that’s so good what the fuck!”
and he’s like rushing to that artist’s stall to buy a poster or print
idk why but phil seems like the person to know where he’s going all over the convention center
he probably had a copy of the directory map but yk
you just have trouble reading it bc all the signs seem to be misleading to you
nothing really crazy screams out to me of what phil would do at twitchcon besides like go to a few events, spend a bunch of time w his friends, etc
HOWEVER i could see him wasting a lot of his time at the gaming area and testing new games that are currently on the works of being developed
like “woah y/n, this vr game is sick, you should try it out!”
ngl i feel like phil would plan a visit to disneyland for everyone, like he gets the tickets and everything but once you’re at the park it’s free reign, y’all go everywhere with not much of a plan
the minors would try to cheap out phil and pay less than the others even though everyone else fully paid phil back and everything LMAO
ok but if he’s feeling nice, phil will buy everyone cotton candy/pretzels :D
and if you’re not hungry, he’d at least get you a mickey balloon
just in general, best idea phil had for taking everyone to disneyland :D
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surprisingly techno is really calm despite this being like one of his first conventions
but when he finally settles in and gets comfortable, he’s showing the same energy
if you’re playfully yelling, he will yell back
however there’s still those awkward moments that are unavoidable
idk why but something about him makes me think that if you feel tired and want to go back to your hotel room, he’d go with you just to make sure you get there safe
he probably also needs a break from being around everyone else for a moment too LMAO
i could also see him searching far and wide in the artist alley for fanart of himself AHAHAH
walking around with him in the convention consists of someone yelling “BLOOD FOR THE BLOOD GOD” every 5 minutes but you don’t really mind
something about him makes me think he’ll be forced into playing minecraft twitch rivals along with the rest of sbi or smth
and he’s like “oh god, i’m going to be on stage? and people will see my face while i play minecraft?”
“i’m sure it will be fun!”
“i mean i like being competitive and feeding my ego, but i’m not that desperate.. well”
do i imagine techno getting easily tired of being surrounded by a bunch of people and just going back to his hotel room with phil and watching some anime with him? yes
and will you watch even if you have no idea what’s going on? also yes
i feel like after a while of you guys hanging out in techno’s room, the rest of the gang will just slowly join you guys
like eventually everyone is there; you, techno, phil, wilbur, niki, tommy, tubbo, ranboo, etc
and techno is like “wha– where did you guys come from?” because his room is basically packed
and niki could be like “oh we can go if you want!”
then techno just insists that she’s fine “but who let the child get in?” clearly implying tommy’s presence
eventually techno gives in with the company and someone gets a bunch of board games to play from the front desk
lots of yelling and laughing for sure
when it becomes late at night, techno is like half conscious, you’re on your phone, wilbur is staring out the window & enjoying the night view, tommy is passed out on the couch from tiredness, tubbo & ranboo is still wide awake quietly talking, and phil & niki are helping clean up the giant mess
eventually everyone brings themselves to go back to their own room except tommy who won’t budge
you give techno a look and he immediately understands what you were thinking
he rushes to the bathroom to fill up two cups with ice cold water and handed one to you
“on three?”
“okay.. one”
then both of you pour the water on the poor child’s face
he jolts awake and saying a string of curses
“what the fuck techno? y/n too?”
“get out” is the only think techno says that before tommy rushes out with his stuff and you leave right after
a/n: i honestly can’t wait until conventions open up again though,, phil and ranboo were talking about vidcon earlier and omg.
also i kinda want to take in tommy requests but i’m not sure??? it would be both cc! and c! x gn!reader for sure tho. i love writing him to bits but who knows, maybe i’ll only stick to my ideas,, or not. send in a tommy x reader request, might do it, might not, but he’s my fav cc if you can’t tell so! :D (i dunno if i will keep it strictly platonic, but unrequited crushes and stuff are fun to write hehe,,)
edit: let’s hope i fixed all the grammar mistakes LMAO we love writing late at night :) /s /hj
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boom-bakugou · a year ago
‘Wedding Crashers’ - Katsuki Bakugou
A/N: Sorry for my inactivity but here’s a little sorry and thank you present for me hitting 1k! I love you all sm <3
Pairings: Pro Hero!Bakugou x F!Reader
Warnings: 18+, ooc deku; but it’s more of a headcanon, semi-public sex
Summary: Your ex-boyfriend Izuku Midoriya inviting you to his wedding is a definite stab in yours and Katsuki Bakugou’s backs. But you’ll show him.
Word Count: 5k
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You had considered your morning to be relatively normal, breakfast not burnt, coffee just that right amount of bitter to stir you awake. But those happy moments of peaceful bliss were soon to be fleeting as your mail arrived. Sifting through the pile to what you assumed would be bank statements and bills; your fingers landed on a cream white envelope. Your name printed neatly in a cursive font that when you followed it with your eyes for too long it almost made you want to puke. Tearing it open haphazardly, you read the perfumed content inside.
‘Dear Y/N Y/LN,
We are very proud to invite you to the blah blah blah wedding of pro hero blah blah Izuku Midoriya and blah blah blah.
RSVP blah-‘
Wait what? The taste in your mouth was pitiful. Yes, you and Izuku had dated years prior and after being childhood friends, yet it didn’t end… swimmingly. But this didn’t feel like inviting a childhood friend to your happiest day, no, this felt like a backhanded swipe at your ex-girlfriend who was well known to the media to be single. Pro-Hero gossip magazines made sure of that.
Throwing the invitation onto your countertop, your eyebrows furrowed with spite. You felt weak almost, watching your ex-best friend grow up to be this bountiful hero with merch in every store that you went to. Though you had triumphed well in the hero charts yourself, nothing ever seemed to compare to him. The golden boy. You never really got over the fact that he ended things because being a single hero was more postable than one who was tied down. Until now. Mr. Big shot getting married. It really made you question your integrity,
Recuperating your thoughts, you realised your phone was buzzing on the couch next to you. Checking to see the influx of text messages, you saw Katsuki Bakugou’s name fill up your lockscreen with notifications.
Bakugou: tell me you got the stupid fuckin invite too
Bakugou: the nerve that nerd still fuckin has
Bakugou: inviting his childhood ‘friends’ after all this time
Bakugou: tch, one big publicity stunt if you ask me
You chuckle as you scroll through the messages, gladly knowing that you weren’t the only one feeling this way.
Y/N: so what’re we going to do about it?
Bakugou: what do you mean?
Y/N: well we can’t show him up at his own wedding but we can sure stir something of our own
Bakugou: well that idiot is marrying some nobody extra
Bakugou: probably to show how ‘great’ he is
Bakugou: so how about if two top pro heroes rsvp’d together?
Y/N: you mean us?
Bakugou: no, midnight and grape juice. of course us you idiot
The idea brewed in your head for a moment. Izuku had always been nice when he was younger, and Katsuki hadn’t exactly been the nicest towards him in return. You were always the mediator in those situations. However when Deku grew and grew in the hero charts he started to lose touch with reality. Not really remembering what being a hero was about besides having his face stuck on a lunch box and raking in the dough for it. It was sad. You didn’t know who he was anymore.
Y/N: fuck it, i’m in
“You know, don’t think I’ve ever seen you in a tux before.” You chuckle, arm linked around Bakugou’s as you stepped out of the chauffeured car together. You were here to make a scene. Paparazzi glistened everywhere like a moth to a candle flame. You couldn’t wait for the tabloids in all honesty.
“Shut up.” Bakugou grumbled, almost in embarrassment. But his smile didn’t show a hint of it. “Not looking too bad yourself.”
You had coordinated well. Your maroon dress flowed in the gentle summer breeze and matched perfectly to Bakugou’s equally coloured tux. You two were such a pair it was nigh impossible to not think that you two were together today. And the paparazzi made sure of that indefinitely.
You couldn’t lie about how the service was beautiful, because it was. However you didn’t need to hear the shutter clicks of a camera go off every few words they spoke. It was distracting, and you and Bakugou shared a glance each time it occurred. Stifling a giggle, you hoped no camera would pick that up. Even if they did, they’d probably pin it to ‘look at these other heroes wishing that they were the next to get married!’ they’d eat that shit uplike ambrosia.
“Can’t wait to see the reception.” You mumbled towards Bakugou, your plastic smiles never fading for the cameras. Izuku making a show of himself and his new bride.
Watching him was almost bittersweet. The happy memories of you three as children flashing behind your eyes. Now replaced with a fame hungry number one hero. Where had all the time gone?
“What’s got you so perplexed?” Katsuki asked, filtering your way through the crowd, making your way to the cars that would deliver you all to the reception.
“Just-“ You sigh, allowing the cover of other heroes to hide you from the all seeing eyes of the paparazzi. “I miss him, y’know? Miss how we used to be.”
“Tch.” Bakugou didn’t care about the scowl present on his face, your words ate him up like some sort of bacteria. “Thought you said that he was the most selfish guy you’d ever dated?”
“He was but like-” You watched Izuku’s back as he held his new partner’s hand. Waving to the cameras and not watching her, as lovely as she looked in her wedding gown. “As weird as it sounds, I sometimes miss high school.”
Bakugou’s eyes scanned your face, following your eyesight to Midoriya. Fucking extra. The thoughts swam around his head, polluting his mind. He knew Izuku’s break up with you had been a massive toll on your mental health and your ego. He made you think that you weren’t good enough for him, and Bakugou never got over that fact. How could he pass up on you for anything else?
Breaking apart from the conglomerative of wedding-goers, Bakugou lead you to one of the specially hired cars to take the guests to the reception. Despite Bakugou’s abrasive and rough nature, you couldn’t help but notice how delicately he held your hand. Not tugging you along or haphazardly grabbing you by your wrist, making you follow him. No, his fingers interlaced with yours and you felt the coarseness of his palms due to the explosive nature of his quirk.
“You can let go of my hand now, we’re in the car.”
“Yeah- whatever.”
Catching up in the car, you both realise how little time you have to actually spend with each other. Though you and Bakugou communicate 1000 times more than you do with Midoriya, heroing keeps you both busy. No times like these to goof off and be with each other. You missed it, you missed your hot-headed idiot friend.
“Hope there’s less fuckin’ paparazzi here. Think I’m gonna go blind with those extras pointing them in my face.” Bakugou rolled down the tinted window a smidge to watch as the car drove into an old looking manor hall where guests had already begun to arrive.
Flowers decorated the ground and just as you two got your hopes up, you saw a line of paparazzi at each side of the staircase leading to the double-doored entrance.
“Well, it was worth a try.” You remark to him, patting his back as you chuckled to him.
Bakugou was the first to exit, standing beside the door so he could reach for your hand to help you out while you fixed your dress. Just as the two of you began to reach for each other's arms to walk into the reception together; there was a brusque tug to your dress. Upon further inspection, a member of the shutterbugs had stood on a long section of your dress. Allowing himself to get pictures of it stretched out and flowy.
“Hey!” Bakugou didn’t waste time on pushing him off the tail end of the dress. “Try anything funny like that again with my girl and say goodbye to that shitty camera of yours!”
The man nodded, slowly letting his camera hang loose on his neck. The rest of the cameramen easily caught the scene but you both couldn’t care less. What’s a wedding without a little drama?
“Thanks Katsuki.” You note with a soft smile.
Bakugou’s hand tenderly makes its way around the small of your back until his arm is holding you close to him as you walk inside. His hand sitting in a caring way at your hip to assure that nothing could come between you both. You could not wait for the media to plaster this fake-ness on every outlet that they could! However, you liked the thought of relishing in the attention right now.
Once the dining festivities had come and gone. It was time for their first dance. Watching as he held her under the blue lighting had your heart hurting slightly. The thought that that could’ve been you. But Bakugou was right. He’s probably marrying some quirkless nobody not only to make himself look better, but being with another hero is messy. You both had media eyes on you; but… you couldn’t help but wonder how different your life would be like if Midoriya was how he used to be.
You didn’t even notice Bakugou’s eyes on you the whole time. Not wanting to waste a second of his eyesight on the show Izuku was putting on. You were a sight of your own. How could you not see that you deserved someone better? Someone like him. You always spoke about how everyone was under a facade when supporting Deku, but you never correlated that to yourself.
After a short while, others began to join in on the large dance floor. Perfectly spacious for all the famous faces and their egos. Bakugou’s hand traced down your arm until his hand clasped with yours, gently leading you to the floor yourselves.
“What’re you doing?”
“Come on, who’s to say we can’t have some fun too huh?”
Smiling at him, you followed his lead. His hand occupying your waist before pulling you in closer to his chest. Flowing with the music, you couldn’t help the cheesy smile on your face; nor the one that spread to Bakugou’s.
“Why’s no one ever tied down Mr. Ground Zero then?” Your question takes Bakugou by surprise, showing a small blip in your combined graceful swaying to the music.
“No ones good enough.” Such a Bakugou answer.
“You’re sounding like Izuku, but he probably got that from the old you.” You jested, earning an eye roll from Bakugou. “I’m being serious! Come on you can tell me.”
It takes him a moment to figure out an answer, so much so that he doesn’t focus on dancing anymore. He just stands there holding you before locking eyes again.
“Just haven’t found the right person to deal with my bullshit I guess.”
There’s a beat of silence and your eyes search his face for answers. You didn’t even realise how close you were to him. His breath fanning your face, the smell of oak and fire and burning sweetness engulfed your senses. You also didn’t realise how the two of you sank closer and closer into one another.
“Hey Kacchan, mind if I steal her from you?”
Izuku’s voice almost sends you two flying away from each other like same sides of a magnet.
“Ask her yourself she’s not mine.” You turn from Bakugou to give a friendly smile to Midoriya, allowing your hand to rest in his. “I’ll be at the bar. Free drinks and all.”
His answers are short, curt. Yet before you can ask him if he’s alright Deku spins you and begins to dance with you in his arms at the tempo of the new music track that’s playing.
“Long time no see Y/N!” His manner has always been so chipper, despite the facade of it all. Though Bakugou and you went there to purposefully to cause discourse; you don’t think you have it in you to be mean to Izuku’s face.
“Yeah, look at you! Married man now, must be scary.” You chuckle, almost nervously. It was like speaking to a stranger.
“Well I guess I’ll find out! But come on that’s been the subject of the whole day! I wanna know about you and Kacchan.” You felt like Bakugou right now, the old nickname boiling your blood as it did his. There was no doubt Izuku took influence from Bakugou and his fiery personality; but he took it in all the wrong ways. Using confidence to become cold, uncaring.
“Oh- haha, Katsuki and I aren’t-“
“Y/N. Don’t lie to me! I can see the way he’s burning holes in my tux from over here.”
Turning you to the music so you could face where Katsuki was standing, you peaked behind Midoriya’s arm to see Bakugou with an all too familiar scowl on his face. Chasing down a beverage in a crystalline glass in one easy gulp.
“If you ask me Midoriya he’s always looked at you that way.” You laugh your statement off but you meant it with malice.
“Midoriya? Feeling formal today are we Y/N?” He had completely lost touch of who he used to be. “I used to look at you like that when I saw you with other guys, I know what that look is.”
His comment stops you dead in your tracks, not allowing for him to swing you to and fro to the music.
“Actually Midoriya I don’t even remember you looking me with jealous intent other than when I was higher than you on the hero charts.” Shaking yourself free from his towering position on you, you stormed off to the patio doors, letting yourself be eaten by the oncoming darkness of night.
Crying at your ex’s wedding. Not something you’d think you’d ever do in your lifetime but here you were. Thankfully you couldn’t see any reporters or such outside so for now, it was just you and your tears. Maybe you were too harsh on him? You used to be friends right? What happened to that kid who wanted to be a hero who you looked up to? What happened to the boyfriend you had who kissed you goodnight and ignored you when your face was on the TV more than him or snapped at you when he was announced lower than you and broke up with you because ‘heroes dating are messy!’ No. Bakugou was right. He was a self-righteous bastard now.
You half expected Midoriya to come out after you but he was probably entertaining other guests. Luckily, as you turned you saw Bakugou standing outside with you, signature hands in his pockets with a dumb, sympathetic smirk on his face.
“I promise I didn’t punch that asshole at his own wedding but I can tell you he got a fuckin’ earful from me. Hope the paps got a good pic.” His tone was joking but it hadn’t cracked a smile from you yet.
“S’alright. Wouldn’t give two shits if you did.” You sniffled, collecting mascara tears on your fingers and wiping them on the decorative concrete bannisters of the balcony. “Shouldn’t’ve fucking come. This was stupid I have too much baggage for this shit.”
You turned away from him, allowing yourself to lean out on the barrier, looking into the distance on the warm night. You could hear Bakugou give a small sigh before his arms snuck around your waist, pulling your back into his chest before placing a chaste kiss on the top of your head.
“That fuckin’ idiot didn’t know what he lost and it’s my fault for influencin’ him.” The pain in his voice was evident. Did Bakugou blame himself for the hurt Midoriya caused you?
“No. That extra is so blinded by the shit everyone has to say that he’s forgotten what real life is. Doesn’t care about his stupid fans or his friends or the best most understanding girl in the whole fucking world. A girl I know does the best for everyone no matter what her own situation is.” You turn around to face him, not wanting to leave his embrace. “Y/N. No matter how much I’ve always wanted to fuckin’ win I’ve just wanted the best for you. And when that bastard did what he did to you- I- fuck. You look at him, like you’re waiting for him to just notice you; but every time I see you it’s like I’m seeing you set the stars in the sky every fuckin night. You just- you’re fuckin’ everything to me Y/N.”
It was completely silent on the balcony besides the low thump of the music from indoors, but it was deafening. But it all faded when his lips attached to yours. It was so clear. All that pining over Midoriya when he was just copying the one who actually saw you for who you were. He even copied Bakugou’s crush on you, most likely to make him jealous. But your mind had no time to think of that when all you could feel was Bakugou.
It was like you had never been kissed before, never felt the love and sensuality behind it. Soft and moist but breathy and warm. For once Bakugou didn’t wish to win a battle, he wanted unity and to be together with you. His hands danced over the delicate curves of you in your dress; taking in every inch of your perfect body. The gasp that fell from your mouth was perfect entrance for Bakugou’s tongue to mingle with yours. The sparks hot and electric between you both was like liquid lightning.
Just as your hands found home in his hair, you heard the all too familiar sound of today of a photo being taken. Bakugou is the first to break the kiss to find the intruder of your special moment. Your lips already feel blushed and bruised but your heart was nearly pounding out your chest.
“Fuckin’ print that in your gossip magazine you extra!” Bakugou couldn’t help but heartily laugh at the man as he shook with worry after catching the intimate moment. He wanted to show you off. He wasn’t ashamed that his lips had captured you to be his.
“Let’s go somewhere more private.” He whispers into your ear and you eagerly nod, grasping his one hand with your two as the both of you manouvered your way through the wedding guests until you finally found a small closet down a hallway where no one from the party had entered.
Slamming the door shut behind you, your eyes drank in Bakugou’s frame. How had you missed that small boy you once knew had now become this beefy, beautiful man? Who was looking at you with the same awe and intent? Bakugou cornered you against the door of the supply closet, latching his lips together with yours once again as if he was scared he’d never be able to taste you again.
“You’re fuckin’ perfect.” Katsuki’s lips mashed with yours as his hands slid up your dress, the coarseness of his fingers against your soft skin sending shivers down your spine.
All those years of being a hero really showed on Bakugou, he lifted you with ease as your fingers traced scars on the back of his neck; holding on for support. His hips pin you against the door and you feel his cock hardening between the fabric of your underwear and his suit pants, you can’t help the whimper escaping your lips at the friction of him.
Bakugou’s hands slip under the straps of your dress, letting them fall delicately to your sides as his lips ensnare yours. His grunts and your whimpers enough to make any passerby know what was going on in the confined space of the closet. His fingers glide beneath the dress which allowed it to fall further as Bakugou felt the weight of your breasts in his palms.
“God you’re fucking everything princess.” His fingers slide beneath the lacy fabric to thumb your nipples, perking and tugging it with his forefinger.
Breaking the kiss, his head lowers to encapsulate the bud in his mouth. Gently suckling it before rolling it feverishly between his teeth. Your hands snaking through his hair only spurring the assault on your supple flesh. Biting your lip to stop the obvious moans that were threatening to spill out of your mouth. You swore you could see stars as his tongue flicked against the pointed nub- sending your nerves wild.
“Bet that fucking extra never treated you like this baby.” He matched your height, his gaze never leaving your own as he took both of your tits out of your bra; kneading the flesh and buds of your nipples as he spoke. “Just wanted to get himself off, I know how to fuckin’ treat you right.”
“Then do it… Kacchan.” You spoke with such gusto in your breathy state, knowing that the old nickname would make him see red. And god did it send him feral.
His body pressed you further into the door, even if it felt like he couldn’t. The aching feel of his cock rubbing against your clothed core made you mewl in want of him. His fingers slid beneath the hem of your dress and made little pricking motions into your inner thighs until he traced a slit over your panties.
“Shit you’re fucking wet.” The pads of his fingers kneading against where you wanted him most, a chuckle falling his lips as your hips did their best to try and get any sort of relief.
“Katsuki please- please fuck oh my god-“ Your neck craned back as you felt your body take control. The low growl in Bakugou’s throat at the sight of you barely touched and already begging for him.
Tracing his fingers along your décolletage he stopped when he met your parted lips before roughly shoving his fingers in your mouth, pressing down the body of your tongue.
“Please please please-“ Katsuki mocked. “Please what princess? Better use your fuckin’ words or else.”
An insufferable smirk played upon his lips as he felt your cunt clench around nothing at his dirty words. Pulling his fingers from your mouth, he wiped the remnants of your spit across your tits; awaiting for your response.
“Fuck me Katsuki- please you’re all I want. God you’re all I need.” Although said in your aroused state. You meant it- and he knew that.
Not wasting any more of the precious time you two had before you were inevitably found out considering your blatant disregard for being quiet; Bakugou used his hand to tug off his belt. Nearly setting his suit pants on fire as his quirk crackled in anticipation for you.
Your body clung to Bakugou’s for support, his whole body easily keeping your pinned high between himself and the door. Once his lower half was sufficiently stripped, it was easy enough for him to rip the sides of your underwear off.
“Shut up.”
Not wanting to disagree; you did. Hips bucking against nothing as the cool air prickled at your hot cunt. Bakugou held his manhood in his hand, rubbing the head of it in your slick and providing stimulation to your clit. Your thighs tightening around his waist like a vice grip at the well needed attention.
“You’re fuckin’ soaking baby. So needy.” Bakugou mumbled against your neck, allowing himself and you to get off momentarily at the friction. You could only nod to his words which were making you more and more wet for him. He was such a tease.
“Come on princess. Tell me you want my cock. Tell me.” His voice growled as he repeated himself, leaving marks upon your nape that would surely bruise because of his harsh bites and sucklings.
“Katsuki I need you- only you. Only you.” Your repetition is barely a whisper but he heard it, and despite his rough nature Bakugou confines your lips in a kiss as he sheaths himself inside of you.
Taking a few slow thrusts to allow yourself to adapt to his size, it’s only a moment before Bakugou completely bottoms out inside of you. He watches your face shiver in pleasure which he mirrors. He clasps your hips so firmly his knuckles turn white; it didn’t even hurt as all you could focus on was him inside you. Your hands find their way to his biceps, gripping on for some tension relief and you could still feel his muscles flex even beneath his suede blazer and the shirt.
“What a good fuckin’ girl, taking my cock like this.” Bakugou’s voice is a low growl as he thrusts into you, the sounds of your clothes brushing against one another and the slaps of your skin interacting was like a sinful symphony.
The smell of caramel danced in your brain as Bakugou worked up a sweat absolutely pummeling himself into your sex. You grasped onto him as if your life depended on it, moaning into his neck as his cock slid in and out of you. You didn’t even know how much time was passing as he rutted himself into you relentlessly- yet as you both came to your highs, you could both barely move from the thrill of it all.
Steadying your breaths back to a regular pace; Bakugou slid you down from where he had pinned you against the door and let you fix yourself as he then did himself. You sorted your dress and pulled any tugs from your hair when he had pulled it before slapping Bakugou’s arm.
“You dick! You ripped my underwear!”
“Hot.” He chuckled, fixing his belt loops and stuffing the ripped panties into his pocket.
“Not funny! I’m not parading about with no underwear on!”
“We’re getting the fuck out of this extras stupid wedding. You can wear my clothes at my place.” Suitably sorted and not looking like you had just had the brains fucked out of you in a closet (despite the reddening bites and bruises that were now appearing on your neck), Bakugou held you close. Yet instead of taking the corridor to the exit, he was leading you back to the main dance hall.
“Where’re we going?” You hashly whispered to Bakugou, your thighs still wet from your slick and the cool air against your unclothed pussy making you heat up from embarrassment.
“Gots to do one thing before we go.” There’s a shit eating grin on his face, you couldn't help but wonder what on earth he was planning now.
Midoriya stood talking to other heroes all dressed in their formal attire and Bakugou (with no consideration of their conversation) roughly tapped his shoulder to get his immediate attention. His arm around your waist was so tight but being see with Bakugou like this made you feel almost proud.
“We’re just heading off.” Bakugou had replaced his smile for his usual scowl, something he had always looked at Izuku with.
“Going so soon? It’ll be a shame you guys!” Izuku’s voice was plastered in falsehood. He probably regretted trying to gloat over you two. Bakugou held out his hand for Midoriya to shake it, your brows furrowed on what was obviously a stepping stone to Bakugou’s plan.
“I know I might not be better at you right now in the hero charts.”
Uh oh.
“I’m glad you’ve finally come to recognise that Kaccha-“
“But I am better at you at something for sure.”
Bakugou used Midoriya’s hand in his to pull him closer, readying himself to whisper in his ear.
“Cause I just fucked the shit out of your ex-girlfriend and I know you never made her come as hard as I did.”
Your face burned with the heat of a million suns, but the glower on Izuku’s face was priceless. And you couldn’t help but see the flash of a camera capture the moment as Bakugou’s hand fell from his and slipped once again around your waist.
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alcinadimitrescuwu · 5 months ago
A Modest Proposal (Alcina x Fem!Reader)
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Premise: You finally muster up the courage to propose to Alcina Dimitrescu. But will everything go as planned?
Note: Even though we technically don't know Alcina's middle name, I gave her Carmilla as her middle name in homage to another beloved Sapphic vampire! :)
Warnings: blood. Steamy scenes her and there, but nothing NSFW.
As you take the last steps towards your mistress’s chambers you have to stop for a minute and take some deep breaths. The other maids had taken to giving you concerned glances all morning. Your nerves had been so fraught that a plate had slipped out of your sweaty hands and broken. You didn’t mind the stares. To everyone else, this is just an ordinary day. Not for you.
Today is the day you are going to propose to Alcina Dimitrescu.
However, you have some errands to run first. For that you are going to have to ask Alcina, ironically enough, for the rest of the day off.
You steel yourself, slap your cheeks to banish any last nerves and knock on the door.
“Come in,” you hear an elegant, mature voice call.
Lady Dimitrescu is seated at her secretary, lining up accounts for the month. Her brow is furrowed in concentration. Upon clearing your throat, she takes off her reading glasses and when she sees you a smile bursts across her face that takes your breath away.
After a year and a half of courting, you could still not believe that this beautiful woman was your lover. You take in her laugh lines and dimples, her slightly puffy cheeks that she hated but you found adorable, her carmine lips freshly painted, and her blue eyes with a corona of gold around them that you found absolutely mesmerizing.
She takes your hand and kisses your knuckles. “Yes, iubirea mea, what can I do for you?”
“I would like to take the rest of the day off if that’s alright with you,” you say in a rush.
She blinks, surprised, but then smiles. “I don’t mind. After all, you’ve been working so hard lately. Have you cleared it with the head maid?”
“Yes-” Before you can say any more, in an instant Alcina has bent down and taken you in her arms with your back against her ample bosom. You feel hot breath on your neck and her curls tickle your ears as she whispers, “We could spend the whole day together. How would you like that, pet?”
You find yourself lost for words as she moves your uniform collar and begins kissing your neck. You lean back and sigh. Her perfume is intoxicating. She moves one hand to your hip and the other begins to peel back your skirt.
You would rather do nothing more than to make love to Alcina on your day off, however there are other matters more pressing. It takes great self control to take her hands off of you. A look of hurt crosses her face. You turn around and give her a chaste kiss and hold her face in your hands. “Forgive me, darling. I would love to but I have some errands to run. May I see you later? Dinner, the usual time?”
Her expression brightens and she kisses you deeply. “I’ll look forward to tonight then,” she says, tucking a curl behind your ear.
You can only nod and when you turn around, Alcina gives you a playful slap on the bum. You look back at her and she gives you a devilish grin.
Closing the door behind you, you can’t help but let out a chuckle. Alcina’s libido, it seemed, could never be satiated. As you take a step you wince and rub your behind. That woman honestly didn’t know her own strength sometimes.
You wrap your scarf around you as you leave the castle grounds. It may be the dead of winter but you find yourself sweating from nerves. The Duke catches your eye and waves you over.
“Ah, Miss Y/N! Just the lady I wanted to see. Your package just arrived.”
You feel your breath catch but nod silently. He turns around and begins rummaging around in the store. You turn around so as to not catch a glimpse of the Duke’s massive behind and you freeze. Alcina is at the window enjoying her morning cigarette. And she is staring directly at you.
You whisper to him, “Wait.” Alcina is still looking at you as she’s taking a drag off her cigarette. Smoke wreathes her gorgeous face. You give her a nervous wave. She waves back and then hears the phone ring. With a grimace, she puts out her cigarette and steps back inside.
You turn back to the Duke. “All right. It should be fine now.”
The Duke smiles and then presents you with a box slightly larger than a normal engagement ring box. With bated breath you open the box and behold the engagement ring that you have bought for Alcina.
Getting the ring had not been easy. When the Duke had told you the price for an engagement ring, especially a custom-made ring for Alcina, you nearly cried with frustration. After all, the main purpose of you working at Castle Dimitrescu was to send back money for your aging parents. When you and Lady Dimitrescu had first begun courting and she learned of your family’s financial situation she had offered to send them money herself each month so you didn’t have to work. However, your pride would not allow it. Any money sent back to your home, you wanted to come from your labors.
Getting enough money for your parents while also raising money to buy the ring had been a long and arduous process. You had begun taking up extra shifts to make up the money. There had been many nights where you had fallen asleep on the sofa with a feather duster in your hand and Alcina had to scoop you up in her arms and carry you to bed herself. But looking in at the ring within the box, you found it had been all worth it. The ring is beautiful, around 14 karats of gold inlaid with rubies forming the House Dimitrescu crest. You are sure Alcina would love it. It had taken time to get the exact measurements of her ring finger. While Alcina was asleep, you had taken her left hand often and studied her ring finger making sure the ring fit snug but not too tight. To get the crest right, you had taken to drawing it over and over again in your off time before you had a drawing good enough to show the Duke to have it commissioned.
You look up and grin at the Duke with tears in your eyes. “Duke, it's beautiful!” you breathe. “Alcina- er, Lady Dimitrescu will love it!”
He pats your hand as you slip the box into your apron pocket. “Not a problem at all, m’dear! Good luck tonight!”
With that done, you head back to the castle. You practically skip back to the gates, taking out the box every so often and peeking inside. Your joy dissipates when you realize what the next item on your to do list is.
Asking for Lady Dimitrescu’s daughters’ blessing.
When you walk in, you actually run into them getting ready to go out. Bela smiles at you as she adjusts Daniela’s cowl on her traveling cloak. “Y/N! Good to see you! Mother told us you had taken the day off.”
Cassandra pipes up, “We were just going out to go hunting! Want to come with us?”
“Actually I wanted to talk to you all about something,” you say as you look around the foyer for any sign of the girls’ mother. “Is there somewhere private we can all talk? Preferably somewhere your mother doesn’t frequent?”
Daniela’s eyes glitter mischievously. “Oooh, keeping secrets are we? Come on, I know a perfect place we can hide!”
Daniels leads the pack to the library. “Mother usually practices her singing around this time,” she says over her shoulder. “So there’s not a chance she’ll overhear anything you say.”
Sure enough, you hear Lady Dimitrescu’s voice singing an elaborate coloratura from upstairs. Perfect.
Daniela’s hands run over the panels in the wall. “Now where is it….Aha there it is!” Daniela picks up a loose panel on the wall and puts it to the side. She steps in and backons the rest of you forward.
There is no light in this room save for torches every couple meters. The room can’t be much more than 6 feet tall, so there was no way Lady Dimitrescu could fit in properly. “We used to hide from Mother here all the time as children,” Daniela winks conspiratorially at you.
Cassandra begins jumping up and down excitedly. “Now what’s the secret? Tell us! Tell us!”
You take a deep breath and then let it out. “All right...Tonight I am planning on proposing to your mother and-”
You are cut off by the girls’ cries of jubilation. Daniela runs over and gives you a big hug. Bela has burst into happy tears. Cassandra continues jumping up and down and chanting, “Bonus mom! Bonus mom!”
You can’t help but laugh. “Does that mean I have your blessing?”
“Of course!” they yell in unison.
Bela says excitedly, “The ring! Do you have a ring?”
Blushing furiously you nod and take out the black velvet box and open it. They “ooh” and “aah” and take turns looking at it before they finally relinquish it back to you. As you put the box back into your pocket, you say, “Well girls, I need to start getting ready. Please make sure not to do anything to arouse your mother’s suspicions. I want it to be a surprise.”
The girls nod their assent, but Cassandra interjects, “Do you need help getting ready? We want you to be looking your best for tonight!”
Everyone enthusiastically agrees and you can’t help but smile fondly at the girls. You may be closer in age to them, but ever since you had begun courting their mother, you loved them like they were your own children. “All right, if you insist.”
The girls cheer and Cassaandra takes you by the hand and leads you back to your room to get ready.
15 minutes before your meeting with Lady Dimitrescu you take a look in the mirror. The girls truly outdid themselves on your makeover. Daniela had curled your hair and it hung in ringlets over your shoulders. Cassandra had given you one of her dresses, a red column dress that was backless with a plunging neckline. This wasn’t the sort of thing you would normally wear, but you had to admit the silhouette was very flattering, highlighting your natural curves. The best part: it had pockets large enough to hide the ring box! Bela was on makeup duty, giving you wingtips sharper than Alcina’s claws and a smokey eye. You spritz on some rosewater perfume and head out. As you pass the hall mirror, you consider putting your hair up in a chignon but think better of it. Alcina had always liked your hair best when it was down.
When you are at the door to Alcina’s chambers you take a deep breath before knocking on the door. “Come in, iubirea mea,” Alcina’s voice purrs within.
You head inside and Alcina has her back turned on you, lighting the candelabras at the table she has set up for you two. “I’ve needed this, my love. You should’ve heard what that fool Heisenberg-”
She stops and stares at you. You can’t help but feel self-conscious as she takes you in. She finally sets the candlestick she was using to light the others back in the candelabra and heads purposefully towards you. She scoops you up in her arms and kisses you deeply, burying her hands in your curls. She breaks the kiss and strokes your cheek. “You look beautiful,” she says breathlessly.
You can’t help but blush at the compliment. “So do you,” you reply as she sets you down gently, praying she doesn’t hear the box rustling in your skirts. She takes your hand and leads you to your seat where she pulls out your chair for you. You take her hand that is resting on the back of your seat and kiss it.
Dinner proceeds as normal at first. You listen to her talk about her day, which takes your mind off the proposal for a bit. Then she puts it at the forefront of your mind when she says, “I saw you talking to the merchant this morning. Did you have anything special coming in?”
Your mouth goes dry. How do you respond to that? “Oh, no. He just wanted to chat. You know how he gets!”
Alcina purses her lips but nods eventually. “Indeed.”
Awkward silence settles over you for a bit. Then she begins talking again, this time ranting about Heisenberg and you almost sigh in relief. This is easy. You just have to listen and agree with whatever she says.
“And then do you know what that fool called me? He called me a ‘simp’ for Mother Miranda! I didn’t even know what that was. I had to ask my daughters and when they told me of course I was infuriated.”
“I mean, a simp? Me? Ha! Imagine! He’s just jealous because he wishes that he had half the devotion that I have for her!”
“Do you think I’m a simp?”
She glares at you from across the table. Damn. She’s caught you.
You stumble over your words trying to correct your stupid blunder. “I mean, no! Of course you’re not a simp! Where would he get that idea?”
Alcina leans across the table and takes your chin in her hand, forcing you to look directly into her eyes. “Am I boring you, pet?” she asks, a dangerous edge to her voice.
“Er, no! No, I'm having a great time!” you say, smiling stupidly at her.
Alcina lets go of your chin and settles back in her chair, crossing her arms. Her stormy expression can’t disguise the look of hurt on her face. “You were the one that suggested we meet tonight, darling. I can’t see why you would want to if you’re not going to at least attempt to be present with me.”
“I’m sorry, darling. I-”
She turns away from you, her large hat blocking her expression. “Maybe you should go.” She gets up and crosses the room to open the door.
No, no, God, no this can’t be happening. This is your worst nightmare. You can’t let her open the door, you just can’t.
You practically fall to one knee. “Alcina!”
“What?” she snaps, turning her head toward you. Her expression softens as she sees that you are down on one knee with the box open. Her chest rises and falls rapidly as she says so quietly you have to lean to hear it, “Draga mea, what are you doing?”
You had a big speech prepared for this. But everything else has gone to hell in a handbasket, so you might as well get it over with. “Alcina Carmilla Dimitrescu, will you marry me?”
Alcina just stands there and stares. The tears that had been building in her eyes now spill over as she kneels down to your level and gives you a passionate kiss.
You smile against her lips and break the kiss. “Does that mean yes?”
“Yes, my darling,” she gives you a watery smile and caresses your jaw. “Yes.”
With trembling hands you take the ring out of the box and slip it on her left ring finger. She lifts her hand and inspects the new ring in the chandelier light. The rubies catch the light, nearly blinding you with their brilliance.
“How does it fit? It’s not too tight?”
She beams at you, positively radiating with joy. “It fits perfectly.” She then rises and heads over to her dresser and opens the top drawer. To your surprise, she pulls out a red box with the Dimitrescu family crest on the top. She sinks to one knee and presents you with an old, but beautiful ring. It must have been passed down through the Dimitrescu bloodline for generations.
Your face feels hot and you feel tears welling up in your eyes. She gently takes your arm. “Will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?” She wipes the tears that have already begun cascading your cheeks. “It is tradition for House Dimitrescu to propose with the family ring to symbolize the unification of two houses. I had been planning to propose to you next week. You beat me to it, you clever girl.” She takes your hand and slips the Dimitrescu family ring on your ring finger. It is slightly larger than your finger, but you don’t care. You couldn’t be happier.
Alcina takes you into her lap and kisses you passionately. In between kisses, she queries, ”All those extra shifts you took. They were all for me?”
“Yes, my love,” you say breathlessly. “All for you.”
She stands up and takes you in her arms. You wrap your arms around her neck as she deepens the kiss, exploring your mouth with her tongue. You can taste salty tears on her lips. She carries you over to the bed kissing you the whole time and sets you down gently. She kneels over you on the bed and you rest your leg on her hip. The slit in your skirt rises up, exposing your stockinged leg. After putting her hand gently on your shoulder, Alcina begins kissing your neck. You lean back into the cushions and sigh.
You hear a low moan in her throat, almost like a whine as she kisses your pulse point. You don’t say anything; you just nod. Soon enough you feel the sharp but familiar sensation of Alcina’s fangs piercing your neck. She holds you against her body and you bury your hands in her curls, causing her hat to fall off. Briefly taking her hand off your shoulder, she slaps the hat aside like it was so much rubbish. You take pleasure in every sigh, every moan, every exclamation you elicit from her as she drinks. When she finally stops drinking she wipes her mouth and gives you a seductive smirk. “Good girl,” she purrs.
Alcina’s mouth is on yours again as she undoes your halter while you unhook her garter. She breaks the kiss and cradles your face in her hands. “Te iubesc, draga mea.”
You take her hand and kiss it while saying, “And I you, Alcina.”
The two of you make love until the sun rises the next morning.
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silversatoru · 5 months ago
step-dad nanami + brat taming 😼?
dark content event!!!
yes yes yes yes yes yes yesyyesysyesy mmm so good mm very tasty idea ily and i got very carried away
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nanami + brat taming
tw: nsfw 18+, f!reader, psuedocest (nanami is your step-dad), brat-taming, noncon/dubcon, impact play, power imbalance, mild size kink?, manhandling, fingering, nanami said fuck jujutsu and is a very rich business man au
wc: 1.7k
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you knew your mother’s new fiancé was a moderately successful business man, but you certainly weren’t expecting to pull up to a security gate on the day that you moved in with him. a large house constructed with dark-colored bricks loomed over your mom’s dented toyota prius, and you wondered what the hell one lonely man needed all this space for.
the white-haired butler that opened the front door and offered to carry some of your bags seemed nice enough, but you couldn’t help but scoff at the entire situation. walking onto the pristine and shiny floors in your scuffed up sneakers made you wonder just how your mom had managed to gold-dig her way into this one. either she was terribly convincing, or this guy was horribly desperate — either way you weren’t opposed to reaping the benefits. a butler, a giant in-ground pool, a bedroom that was three times the size of your old one?
yeah, you’d settle in real quick.
and you did just that, taking whatever you wanted and not feeling a shred of guilt for it. this guy, nanami kento, had more than enough money to go around, so why shouldn’t you indulge yourself? why shouldn’t you throw unsolicited pool parties while they’re at work? invite boys over to spend time in your king sized bed? your mom forced you out of your hometown to move in with this rich asshole, might as well make the most of it.
and things were going pretty fucking smoothly if you do say so yourself, or at least they were until nanami caught you sneaking a boy through your window one night.
you thought your were so smart, so slick with the way that you used his house as your personal playground behind his back. but why would he own such an esteemed property and not have security cameras? you weren’t smart at all, in fact you were incredibly, incredibly stupid.
and you’ve been getting on nanami’s nerves for a while, sashaying around the house in tiny outfits surrounded by a horde of immature boys. he’d watch you through the security footage while he worked — blood boiling at the way you flaunted his home as if it were your own.
those boys were never going to be enough for you; you’d walk all over them with your inflated ego and terrible attitude. you needed a man, someone grown, who could put your back in your place — you needed nanami — and fuck, he’d wanted you since the day you walked through his front door. he’d been patient, very patient, but this was enough to snap the thin wire that was holding him back.
he didn’t hesitate to kick the boy right back out the window he climbed through, threatening to call the cops if he didn’t leave his fucking property right now. and then a firm hand was wrapped around your wrist, dragging you up the stairs and into his bedroom.
he gave your arm a harsh tug, tossing your body towards his large neatly made bed. the edge of the raised mattress whacked you in the gut, your face falling forward and mashing into the silky comforter.
“what the fu-,” you snapped your head back to look at him, but were immediately met with a rolled up black sock being shoved into the back of your mouth.
you coughed and whined through the fabric as he grasped both your wrists in his one large hand, his other weaving the leather belt that was previously looped through his trousers around your wrists. he had zero patience for you right now, and he was making that evidently clear.
“i’ve tried to stay patient with you, but you’ve forced my hand this time,” he looked at you with dark eyes, one of his hands undoing the zipper at the back of your skirt.
you tried to kick with your legs, tried to cuss him out through the sock, but it was entirely ineffective, his strong hands holding you down and the cotton preventing a single coherent word from leaving your lips. your skirt was gliding to your feet now, your bare ass exposed and looking nanami right in the eyes.
“sneaking in another boy? how many times should i spank you for that? five? ten? i think ten would be suitable in this situation,” he used one hand to keep you pinned to the mattress, and the other to caress the smooth skin of your upper thigh, “what do you think?”
obviously you tried to reason with him, tell him that you didn’t deserve any spanks, that you weren’t a child, that this whole thing was fucking weird — but none of that made it out of your mouth, not through the soggy sock that was still in your way.
“i’m glad you agree, ten it is,” he gave you a thoughtful look, raising up his hand in preparation to strike you for the first time.
his hand swung down with incredible force, a piercing smacking sound echoing through the room as you squealed and kicked under his touch. it felt like a thousand pins piercing through your skin, a blazing fire that burned through his fingers and straight through to your brain.
the second smack was brought down with even more strength, your whole body lurching in response to the impact. you still kicked, still fought, still screamed through gag for him to fuck off, but a small part of you was already anticipating number three.
the third strike to your backside flipped a switch in your brain, your legs falling limp and your screams replaced with pitiful whimpers and whines. his hand on your skin was starting to hurt so good, bits of the sock becoming trapped in your clenched teeth.
four, five, and six came quickly after, only a few seconds of rest between each of them — and nanami knew that he’d won when your feet began to push up onto your tip-toes, your ass wiggling closer to him as you waited for more.
“you count the next ones,” he reached forward and plucked the disgusting sock out of your mouth, tossing it to the floor and caressing your cheek.
seven came down hard, goosebumps lining your arms as you yelped; your tied up hands grasping at air. a shameful “seven”, rolled from your tongue a few moments later, your shaky voice flooding nanami’s ears.
“good girl,” he cooed, “three more”.
the next three stung the worst, nanami hissing at how badly it hurt his own hand — but your were a lightheaded, dizzy mess; practically drooling on his sheets by the time he was done. you’d done exactly what he asked, taken all ten and even counted out the last four — you were so good for him, and it was so easy.
he helped you roll over onto your back and then slipped his hand under the waistband of your panties, pulling and letting them fall down to your ankles. you’d taken the punishment pretty well, so it was only fair that you were rewarded now.
he sat down on the edge of the bed next to you, one of his hands pressing down onto your puffy clit. you knew how inappropriate this was all becoming, but your head was much too hazy to care.
he dipped two of his fingers low, slipping them into your slimy cunt and gently pushing them up inside you. his fingers were long, a sharp whimper flying through your teeth as he curled his fingers against your walls.
what the hell would happen if your mom got home right now? if she saw her soon-to-be husband fist-deep in her daughter?
those were the things you should have been thinking, but they didn’t cross your mind once. how could you care about the what if’s when nanami was stuffing you full with his thick fingers on one hand, and expertly massaging your clit with the other.
no one your age had this experience, and none of the boys you’d messed with had ever made you feel this good with such little effort. nanami was opening your eyes to his expert hands, and you began to wonder how many sorry brats had ended up in this exact spot before. maybe this is what he did for fun — romancing middle-aged women just to prey on their college-aged daughters until they inevitably get caught one day — and then the cycle continues.
but right now, on the edge of losing yourself around his fingers, you didn’t care if you were the hundredth step-daughter he’d done this to — it was worth it.
your walls clamped around his fingers as he thrusted them deeper, his other thumb rubbing hard and consistent circles over your sensitive nub. it was impossible to hold out any longer, the ball in your stomach flying undone as you rolled your hips into his hand and creamed all over his fingers. the room was filled with the prettiest mewls and whines, your body shaking and lurching as he kept feeling you even after your orgasm was fading.
only once you accidentally kicked him from the intensity of the overstimulation did he unsheath his fingers from your cunt, his skin glistening with your fluids. he shoved them into your mouth, your eyes widening as he offered a simple: “suck”.
but you did what you were told, you’d quickly learned that disobeying him would only lead to something worse. he smirked for the first time after he plucked them from your mouth, your lips making a satisfying popping sound.
“never gonna invite those boys over again, right?” he taunted you, an obvious bulge sitting in his dress pants.
you quickly shook your head no.
but if breaking the rules meant this would happen again?
you’d be breaking them every goddamn day.
959 notes · View notes
divine-mistake · 6 months ago
it's messy inside, let me take your coat
Summary: “I can make you a drink,” you offer, leaning against the doorframe to your bedroom with your arms crossed over your chest, staring at him, “or I can come over there and you can kiss me drunk instead, ‘cause I’m already halfway there.”
Characters: Bucky Barnes/Plus-sized (f)Reader
Warnings: 18+ (mentions of smut, female nudity), strong language, alcohol consumption, copious amounts of fluff, soft and nervous Bucky Barnes, original female character friends, one-night stand, body insecurity, anxiety
Word Count: 8723
A/N: This story was written for @eurynome827 and her 2k follower challenge with the prompt "Mimosas and Bloody Marys at brunch." Thank you for hosting and congrats again on your milestone!
main masterlist | AO3
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The flutes clink together, orange juice sloshing and spilling and dripping down the glasses and onto the table as your giggles fade into the background noise of the café’s patio. You tip your head back as you drink, mimosas bubbly in your throat like your own happiness, threatening to pour out of you and dribble onto your shirt, already tipsy.
“God,” Carissa says, throwing herself back into the metal chair, “I cannot wait to have his babies.”
Beside her, Kora claps. “I can’t wait to be an aunt! I’m going to spoil them all so rotten you’re going to want to throttle me by the end of it.”
“Spoil them all you want, I’m having eight of ‘em.”
At that, you go ahead and polish off your drink, carbonation stinging your throat, and while you set the empty glass down your hand goes up in the air, signaling the waiter for another.
Sara points at you. “I’m with her.” She makes a face at Carissa. “If you have eight kids I will make like your dad and bounce.”
Kora slaps her on the knee but the four of you descend into laughter anyway, and it’s easy and light and beautiful, like always. Washington D.C. can be pretty in this way—iron-wrought fencing and fancy metal tables and red patio tiling. Good food, better mimosas, best friends. There’s a breeze in the air that’s calling for autumn, scattering cloth napkins sitting in laps and spreading the scent of fresh baked bread.
The bags at your feet carrying your new shoes for the winter wedding that’s approaching rustle. That feeling isn’t just D.C. It’s excitement and love and adoration, too.
Carissa, bride to be, catches you in her gaze. “When are you going to finally settle down, huh?” She gestures across the table at you with her half-filled mimosa. Everyone else looks at you too, waiting for your response.
You shrug. “You’re having plenty of babies, I don’t need any.”
“I don’t mean babies,” she says. “I mean a human, a connection, something that isn’t an empty apartment.”
“You need—no, you deserve—someone to take care of you!” Kora adds. “You’re always taking care of everyone. Don’t you want someone to, y’know, take care of you?”
“I have plenty of vibrators in my empty apartment.”
Sara snorts, covering her mouth. The waiter delivers another round, thank god.
“What do you want me to say?” you ask, sighing. “You’re just bothering me ‘cause it’s wedding season and you want to set me up with your weird—”
“He’s not weird,” Carissa interrupts. “He’s tall and he’s mysterious which is exactly your type.”
“She’ll find someone when the time is right,” Sara says. “Just ‘cause we’re happy with our boyfriends doesn’t mean she needs one to be happy.”
“Thank you, Sara, my one-true-best-friend-in-the-whole-wide-world.” You force your glass against hers in a loud clank, turning the heads of all the patrons on the café’s patio before taking a gulp. Your face is already getting a little hot, the alcohol hitting you. This is why you aren’t allowed to pregame before you go to brunch anymore.
“We’re not trying to force you,” Kora starts, but her mouth is pulled into a concerned frown. “We really do just want you to be as happy as we are, that’s all.”
You smile at her. “I know.”
And you do know. You understand. It’s been years now since you’ve had anything real—anything worthwhile, to be specific. At some point, the relationships slowed down. Boyfriends became friends with benefits when you were working on your masters. Friends with benefits became ignored booty calls at two in the morning when you started your dissertation, on the road to get your doctorate. Now, you’re lucky to go home with someone from the bar, and they never, ever, come home with you.
It’s okay. You aren’t lonely. The right person just hasn’t landed in your lap, and maybe that’s kind of because it’s not open, but it’s just ‘cause you’re busy. You’re busy. Passionate. Need to change the world.
Love can wait.
The next mimosa is finished and you’re feeling a little fuzzy.
“I’m happy for you,” you tell Carissa. “I’m happy for all of you, and I’m happy with my life, and I’m happy that we’re all together and we’re celebrating and I’m happy that you all care about me enough to worry but I’m perfectly fine with how things are.”
Carissa smiles, but it’s got too much teeth. “I could set you up with Kie—”
“No, no setting me up with Kieran or Harry or Josh or anyone. But especially not Kieran.”
You’d already fucked him once and it wasn’t worth the experience.
“Fine! Fine.” Carissa busies herself with her drink. “No setting you up with Kieran.”
“Good. Now let’s talk about the reception!” You pull out your phone and open the planning spreadsheet, smiling. “So I called the venue for you about the tables…”
This is easier. Planning Carissa’s wedding, helping support her, being excited for her—that’s easier than talking about your love life. If anything, this is your love life. Taking care of the people you love, your best friends, having fun and being together and romanticizing the time you spend with them. It’s not just mimosas over brunch and a green spreadsheet for wedding planning. With them, it’s the wind in your hair and the sun making your eyes sparkle and the alcohol making all your insides feel effervescent.
It’s love. It’s perfection. It’s your own brand of happiness.
And sure, maybe it’s a little defensive, but this is easier than loving someone and trying to make them love you. It’s easier.
“Whose dress are we still waiting on?” Carissa asks a little later, mouth full of avocado and bacon and looking very un-bridely.
“Mine,” Kora says, a little guiltily. “It’s at the tailor getting taken in—again.”
“I have mine,” you pipe up, wiping your mouth of jam. “And god, do I look like a full course Michelin star meal in that piece. Like, we’re talking ass for days, legs for days, tits for—”
“Excuse me, ma’am, excuse me.” A man, towering over the café table makes himself known, dressed in dark clothes and wearing a look on his visage that you can’t name.
“—days,” you finish, swallowing hard.
“Excuse me, I don’t mean to interrupt,” he says with a smile, “but I’m raising money for uh, breast cancer awareness, and I was hoping you would donate and sign up for uh, a marathon we’re doing.”
You blink. “Sorry,” you tell him, “but we don’t carry cash on us.” With a small smile, you nod at him, your eyes passing over your friends and looking around the café to see if any of the other patrons have noticed what’s going on. None of them look bothered.
“Not even for breast cancer awareness? C’mon, girl.”
“We don’t carry cash,” Sara repeats with a deadpan, but her eyes don’t meet his.
He doesn’t look at her either, content to stare at you, and your skin crawls.
“What about signing up for the marathon?”
“Fine,” you snap. Anything to get him to leave you all alone. “How do I sign up?”
“You give me your phone number and I’ll text you the details.” His grin is a little wider now, edging a little closer to where you sit at the table. You’re regretting that third mimosa. You aren’t on your game. The panic running through you is covered in a champagne haze.
You scoff. “No way.” Immediately you grab your purse, digging through it, and you slam a handful of loose change onto the table in front of him. “Here—a donation. Now please leave.”
His face twists into a scowl, but he scoops the money off the table and pockets it.
“You don’t have to be such a bitch,” he suddenly says, and anger courses through you until you shoot up from your seat, chair skidding behind you. He’s tall—much taller than your short stature. But, fuck it, the alcohol’s dimming the fear and fueling the need for you to protect your friends.
When you glance over, Carissa is already gathering the bags, eyes wide. Kora has her arms wrapped around her middle, trying to make herself smaller, ready to run. Sara’s phone is in her hand, 9-1-1 already dialed.
And still, no one in the café is doing a goddamn thing.
“Excuse me?” You glare up at the man.
“I just wanted your number, you fat bitch.” He sneers. “No wonder you’ve got an attitude, you obviously don’t get laid.”
Really, you can sit there and say it isn’t the fat comment. It’s not the insult. You’re used to that, with your overly-generous curves and your soft jawline and the fact that you’re wearing a skirt showing off the cellulite running through your thighs like a creek and a crop top that lets everyone peek at your stretch marks. You’re used to it.
And, really, you could handle this better. You certainly have before ‘cause this isn’t the first time you’ve been hustled or the first time some creep has hit on you. Old men have been slapping your ass in public since you were sixteen. You’re hot, you get it. If you saw yourself on the street you’d want a piece of your own goddamn ass, too. It comes with the territory, but it’s gross. And it’s sad but you’re used to it. So it’s not him calling you a fat bitch.
It’s the comment about getting laid. It’s sore as fuck.
You grab your would-be fourth mimosa and drench him in it, the glass slipping from your fingers and shattering upon the patio’s tiled floor in an instant.
“Slut!” The man lunges for you and you jump away, bumping into the table and losing your footing. You fall to the ground as glass comes crashing down around you, spilling sweet-smelling alcohol all over you. Ouch. Your friends scream, but you can’t take your eyes off him.
And then a gleam of black and gold blurs past you and grabs the creep by his neck, throwing him down. Now, a tall, wide body dressed in a dark hoodie is blocking you, guarding you, sheltering you.
“Try it,” Mystery Savior says.
“Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit,” Carissa chants, calling your name.
Your hand is sticky when you wave her away. “Get out of here, I’m fine. Just go. I’ll meet you—meet you at Kora’s.”
“We’re not leaving you!” Sara shouts, but something, maybe adrenaline or fear or fucking champagne, is running through your blood vessels at high speed.
“Just go!” you scream back at her. “I’m not fucking kidding, go!”
Because if there is one redeemable thing about you, it’s the length you’ll go to keep the people you love safe. And Mystery Savior might have just choked a creep out for you, but he also choked a creep out for you, and that’s enough to get your heart pounding in your ears. You don’t know who the good guy is—if there even is a good guy here.
“Fuck,” the creep curses, but it comes out raspy as he grasps at his quickly bruising neck. “You’re a—” he wheezes, “—you’re a murderer!”
Mystery Savior holds up his hands, and that’s when you see it. The black and gold of a vibranium arm just peeking out of the sleeve of his hoodie.
This isn’t a murderer. Not a Mystery Savior either. This is James Bucky Barnes, the Avenger, holy shit. Definitely good guy. Probably. He’s reformed, the news talks about it.
“Caught me,” he says, voice monotone. “What are you gonna do about it?”
If you weren’t currently sprawled on the ground, covered in mimosa, and panicking wildly about whatever is unfolding right in front of you, the very buzzed part of your brain would really appreciate the smoothness of Bucky’s voice when he said that, the cool, calm, collected delivery.
You’ll file it in the back of your mind for when you go back to your empty apartment.
“That fat ass ain’t worth it,” the creep chokes out, scrambling to get up. As soon as he’s on his feet, poised to take off, Bucky moves faster than you could have imagined and grabs the guy by his shirt.
“I don’t think so, buddy.” You can’t see his face, but you think Bucky might be smiling.
A portly man, a little shorter than Bucky, pushes through the gathering crowd, eyes wide and panicked, face red, already sweating. When you glance at his golden nametag, it reads: Jason, Manager. Cool that the manager showed up this late. If Bucky hadn’t stepped in, you’d probably be in a pile of limbs on the ground by now. Also—is he going to comp your bill? ‘Cause at this point, you’re starting to think you deserve it.
Okay, not a good time to be distracted.
“Thank you for getting him, sir,” the manager says, a little breathless. “Winter Soldier, sir.”
“It’s Bucky,” he says, and then he shoves the creep toward the manager. “Not sure why you didn’t step in before he got violent.”
Exactly! Why did everyone just stand around and do nothing as some six-foot man hustled the four women sitting beside the street? You glance around again, seeing your friends have disappeared and now, both the wait staff and other café patrons, are crowded around your table. It’s a little unsettling how no one cared to even look at you until everything escalated.
As the manager grabs the creep and hauls him off toward the street to wait for the cops, Bucky Barnes relaxes his shoulders and turns toward you slowly, and it’s—well, for lack of a better word—it’s beautiful. He’s beautiful.
He looks nothing like the superhero in the pictures. Here, with the D.C. sun hitting him unabashedly, his slate eyes like glass marbles, the lines surrounding them wrinkled in concern, his tongue darting between his lips to wet the skin where his teeth bite down, a habitual sore, his short locks ruffled by the breeze or maybe the fight or maybe he just wakes up perfectly rumpled, here he looks like a man.
“You okay?” he asks, somehow nonchalant and still worried, and he holds out a calloused hand to you.
Or, well, maybe Bucky had been watching. And maybe that’s enough.
God, you don’t even know this man outside of his Avenger persona, the headlines you read on the news, the pictures you see on social media, but there’s just something about him that makes you want to trust him. Like he guarantees safety, and you know that no one, least of all an Avenger, can guarantee safety. Even if that’s their job.
Stop feeling safe around him.
But you take his hand anyway, his long, thick fingers folding over your own like he means to swallow them, and Bucky pulls you up as though you weigh nothing. In fact, he does it so easily that you crash straight into him with a yelp and his arms instantly slide around your waist to catch you as your knees go weak, buckling beneath you.
When you look up at him, your hands trying to find purchase in the material of his hoodie, he’s staring down at you with the hint of a smile.
“Thanks,” you say, quiet and a little stunned.
His lips crack a little wider. “No problem.”
For a few seconds longer than deemed socially appropriate, you stare at Bucky, captured by the changing color of his blue-gray eyes. And then, as if god is slapping you on the back of your head, you blink and remember that you are covered in alcohol and currently pressed against the chest of a superhero, and your eyes go wide as you quickly push away from him.
“Oh god, I’m so sorry,” you tell him. “I’m disgusting—you probably have orange juice all over you now, fuck.”
“Hey,” he says, his flesh hand wrapping around your upper arm to steady you, “it’s okay. Seriously though, are you alright?”
You open your mouth to say something and then shut it again when you realize nothing sounds like the right answer. Bucky waits patiently though, peering down at you, his grip a little more grounding than you wish it was.
“Yes?” you say, but it sounds like a question. “I mean, maybe? I’m—It’s not like I’m not used to this happening. I’ll be fine.”
Bucky frowns. “Used to it?”
You shrug. “Not all men are superheroes. Most don’t have good intentions. And I’m not even that pretty, can you imagine what other women deal with?”
It slips out before you realize it, the self-hatred you keep at bay.
“Not pretty?” Bucky’s face twists into something confused. “That guy assaulted you just to get your number. I’m not saying it’s right, but if you think you aren’t pretty, well that’s just wrong.”
Oh god, what are you supposed to say now? So stupid. If you had just kept your mouth shut, you wouldn’t have forced an Avenger—a really fucking hot Avenger—to give you an awkward compliment and now you have to scramble to figure out what to say. If you deny the compliment, you’ll look ungrateful. If you accept the compliment, that’s too egotistical. Too into yourself.
You’ve backed yourself into a corner here, and Bucky’s on the other side of the ring.
“Look,” he interrupts your inner monologuing, running a hand through his hair and glancing away, “if you don’t mind me saying it, you’re—well—you’re gorgeous. I hope you know that.”
Your mouth falls open and you stare at him, nervous energy radiating off him, and when his eyes shift back to yours he coughs.
“I mean, don’t take that the wrong way. I’m not—I’m not trying to hit on you after what just happened, I promise.” His eyes go wide, then, and he throws his hands out in front of him in a placating gesture. “That’s not to say I’m not! Not hitting on you. I mean, shit, I just think you’ve gotta be the most beautiful dame—woman, sorry—that I’ve seen in years.”
There’s something soft about it, something sweetly suffocating, like buttercream frosting in the back of your throat, about his nervousness. The gentle panic, the way his eyes go back and forth from the ground at your feet to your eyes like he’s checking to make sure he hasn’t said the wrong thing, but he just keeps putting his foot in his mouth like it’s a magnet to metal. It’s endearing. It’s real.
“Do you want to get a drink with me?” you blurt out, and Bucky blanches. “I know it’s only, like, noon but I need a drink. And I owe you. For saving me.”
He relaxes at this, another one of those small smiles easing its way onto his face, and his shoves his hands into his pockets like he wasn’t just panicking two seconds ago about calling you a dame, which if anyone else had done, you would have socked them in the mouth, but he’s like one-hundred-and-six or something and you kinda get it.
“The drinks you’re wearing ain’t enough, doll?”
A laugh breaks from your mouth and he lights up, grinning.
“Oh, that’s how it’s gonna be?” You can’t help the smile splitting your own lips. “Sure, make fun of the girl who just got hustled, easy prey.”
The way he looks at you is burning.
“I’m Bucky,” he says. “James Bucky Barnes.”
“I know,” you say with a laugh. When you give him your name, he almost looks like he wants to try it out, but he keeps it on his tongue like he’s tasting it instead.
“So, a drink?” he asks, a little cautiously.
“I’d like that.” Then, you look down and curse. “But I’m gross. I really need to go home and change.”
Bucky nods, but a look of disappointment crosses his face, there and then gone again, just enough to make your heart tighten into a painful brick weight atop your chest. Everything in your brain is saying no, don’t do it, don’t do it. But your heart hurts and it hurts for him, a man you’ve only met in news articles and awkward interviews until now, when he’s saved you from being slapped around by some creep or worse, and god, you have such a soft heart sometimes and it’s gotten you in trouble before but you can’t just ignore it.
“Do you like Bloody Marys?”
His eyes meet yours again and you’re drawn into the storm that swirls in his irises once again.
“Never had one,” he admits. “They don’t look much like a drink.”
“Well, if you’re interested, I have the stuff to make a really good one at home. And then I could change and clean up a little and still y’know, thank you for saving my life? I mean it’s not much, but—”
“Yes,” he says, his voice as sure and steady as it was earlier when he was in hero mode. “That sounds great.”
Oh, you’re fucked. You’re so fucked.
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The walk back to your apartment isn’t uncomfortable, but it’s not easy. Bucky walks beside you like a forcefield, using his body to guide you through the throng of people walking along the streets without even touching you. He reminds you of a sheepdog. The thought almost makes you laugh more than a few times during your stroll.
He walks with his hands in his pockets most of the way, especially his metal one. And he isn’t much of a talker, not that you mind as long as he keeps answering the questions you’re asking him, like what kind of food he likes and what he thinks about sphynx cats and if he likes memes—of which his answers consist of anything, what the hell is that and why is it naked, and a resounding yes.
Bucky asks some of his own questions, though they are few and far between and a lot more cohesive and meaningful than your own. He asks about how long you’ve lived in Washington D.C., about what you do for a living, and about your friends.
“Why did they leave you there?” He’s staring at you when he asks, brows sharp and furrowed.
“Because I told them to,” you answer. “I didn’t want them to get hurt or anything. And I’m kind of the person that if I’m yelling, you better listen ‘cause I’m usually yelling for a good reason.”
He nods like he understands, but his lips are pressed flat. “They shouldn’t have left you.”
You shrug. “I wanted them to. I would’ve been more pissed if they hadn’t run off and gotten tangled up in the middle of everything.”
“You’re a good person,” he says, still looking at you. His face is softer, that hint of a curve in his mouth the only sign that anything’s changed.
You give him your own smile. “Maybe.”
It’s only once you get to the front door of your apartment that things shift and your stomach rolls, heavy and fluttering light all at once, a not-so-familiar-anymore anxiety chilling your skin. The keys in your hand jingle and you aren’t sure if it's because your fingers are shaking or not.
“It’s not much,” you say, beckoning him inside, “but y’know, it’s enough for me.”
Bucky steps through the door with a reverence, a caution, a carefulness that strikes you right in the heart. He looks out of place for a minute, like he’s never entered an apartment before. And then, as you kick off your shoes, losing the extra inch of height, smiling and gesturing for him to do the same, there’s something in him that snaps and bends and his shoulders fall, relaxed.
He toes off his boots, leaving them by the door, and suddenly there’s a different air in the apartment. Almost intimate. Comfortable.
Stop it. You don’t even know him.
“Make yourself at home. Can I get you anything? A glass of water or something?”
Bucky shakes his head as he follows behind you, slowly, his eyes roaming over your space. It’s really not much, you know that. A little more than a box with a bathroom and a bedroom attached, what with the living room and the kitchen being “open-concept,” a word you’re pretty sure was invented to sell tiny apartments for more money. You don’t even have a table to sit at—just a couch to plunk down on while you’re eating.
“I’m alright, doll,” he says, running a hand over the soft cushions of said couch. “You go change, I’m fine.”
As soon as you disappear into your bedroom, the door locked behind you, you lean against the wood and let out a sigh. This is awkward. What the fuck were you thinking? Asking an Avenger—Bucky Barnes—back to your apartment for a drink? A bloody mary? Who are you trying to kid?
It’s been years, literal years since you’ve invited anyone back to your apartment. In fact, you don’t think anyone besides your friends has even stepped foot inside. Maybe they haven’t even made it to the door.
Why would you invite him here?
In frustration, you strip your dirty shirt off and throw it onto the floor, shimmy-ing out of your skirt and kicking it toward the hamper just as well. You sort through your drawers, looking for something comfortable to throw on. Or maybe you should wear something nice? Something that looks similar to what you wore to brunch. But Bucky’s dressed in jeans and a hoodie. But he also looks like a modern god in just that.
Fuck. You are fucked. Why did you ask him back to your place for a drink? What did you think would happen?
You throw an old band t-shirt over your head and pull a black pair of loose shorts up over your hips, cursing when you realize they don’t even hit mid-thigh. Does that seem suggestive? Is Bucky going to think you want to fuck him if you walk out in these?
Do you want to fuck Bucky?
No. No. This is not what this is about. You invited him over because you owed him a drink and because you needed to change and because he seemed so damn sad when you said you couldn’t go out for a drink. So you asked him to come home with you. Oh, god, that’s so complicated. What have you gotten yourself into?
Stop. Just stop thinking.
But—you have to admit it to yourself—you want it. You want him.
Your friends’ earlier words repeat in your head. A human, a connection, something that isn’t an empty apartment. They aren’t wrong for thinking that it’s something you want. For most of your life, you’ve lived thinking that you shouldn’t need someone. But isn’t it okay to want someone? You’re tired of being alone. Bucky Barnes is the first man that’s been in your empty apartment since you moved in, and maybe it’s a bold move, but you know what?
You throw yourself out of your bedroom, probably looking a little too frazzled, and you quickly comb your fingers through your hair as nonchalantly as possible to fix the flyaways. Bucky’s sitting on your couch, looking lonely, his hands rigid on his spread knees.
He looks like he fits there, on your sofa, in your empty apartment.
“Look,” you say in a breath, catching his attention. When he looks at you, his eyes sweep over your body like he’s never seen a woman before; shy, timid, a little nervous, but there’s something else there. It’s the same thing that’s heating your insides right now.
“I can make you a drink,” you offer, leaning against the doorframe to your bedroom with your arms crossed over your chest, staring at him, “or I can come over there and you can kiss me drunk instead, ‘cause I’m already halfway there.”
Bucky’s eyes widen for a fraction of a second, and then a cocky grin is curling his lips up, his face brightening the entire apartment. You don’t know if your body is warm because you’re embarrassed at your own daring or because Bucky Barnes is so beautiful it’s criminal, but you know that there’s static and stretch in your limbs and desire pooling in your belly. Liquor and lust are chasing away whatever fears you had before.
“Really?” he asks, but there’s a teasing lilt to his voice that reminds you of what a fucking flirt he is, or that he can be, and you think butterflies might be taking up residence in your tummy.
“Really,” you mimic, wearing your own charmed smile. Bucky lets his head fall to the side as he looks over you, then crooks one metal finger at you, beckoning you to join him on the couch. With as much confidence as you can muster, you stride toward him, putting a little swing in your steps. Maybe you look crazy doing it, but it’s enough that his eyes flicker down to watch your hips, and it sends a thrill through you.
“This isn’t like me,” you tell him as you sink down beside him, as close as possible while still giving him space to bolt if he needs to. “I don’t invite strangers over to my house like this.”
He smiles and it’s warm and big and easy. “I’m glad you did,” he says.
God, his eyes are pretty. “Me too.”
With Bucky’s thigh pressed against yours, his hand resting dangerously close to one of your bare knees, knuckles brushing your skin every time he shifts, you’re melting into his touch and you don’t care. It’s intoxicating—not the alcohol, which you swear should be wearing off by now, but him.
“I don’t do this often,” you say again, like you need to defend your bold behavior.
“Does that mean I’m special?”
“I think so,” you murmur, only loud enough for him to hear being this close.
Kinder than you thought possible, somehow simultaneously suave but still a little nervous, and yet authentic to a fault, Bucky Barnes is a thousand and one contradictions. Nothing like you ever thought he’d be. And maybe that’s what gives you the courage, the thought that someone so hardened could be so soft. That someone who looks like him, chiseled and striking and like a charcoal sketching on stark paper, could turn red at your innuendos and your charmed quips. That there’s a chance he could be attracted to you.
This—This is the connection you’ve been waiting for. The person who makes you feel like this. Tipsy when you shouldn’t be tipsy anymore.
“I know we barely know each other, but I really, really want you, Bucky.”
Your shoulder is pressed to his shoulder, your chest nearing his chest, your chin tipped up to stare at his eyes, his nose, his parted lips. Bucky stares down at you, his Adam’s apple dipping and bobbing as he swallows hard. Your lips curl, threatening to giggle. He’s so damn cute. How can someone like him, an Avenger, a super soldier, look so cute?
But the hand at your knee finally creeps up your skin, his hot palm glossing over your bare thigh, resting a little higher than a friendly touch would go. He presses indents—not too hard, but not too soft—into your plush, silken flesh.
“You do?” he asks, tongue darting out to wet his lip and you want to follow it back into his mouth with your own.
To answer, you push closer, your hand coming up to drape across his neck, a little off-balance as you sit up on your knees.
“Mhm,” you hum, and that’s all he needs to grasp your thigh roughly and drag you over him, seating you upon his lap as a squeak of surprise flies from your lips. His hands fall to your hips as if your body was made for him to hold and suddenly you’re looking down at him and he’s looking up at you instead, and god, he’s staring at you like you’re heaven and earth and everything he ever needed to be saved.
“I want you too,” he says, exhaling as if you’ve stolen all the air in his lungs.
“Then will you finally kiss me?” Your nose brushes his and his breath ghosts over your mouth.
Bucky’s lips surge up to meet yours, swallowing the last sounds of your words like it’s the first drink of water he’s had in years, cool and refreshing and tinged with smoke, something uniquely him.
As your hands thread through his short locks, desperate to hold onto him in any way, his fingers begin to curve over your ass. You rock into him, pressing against him harder, sucking at his plush lips as his tongue skims over your top lip until you grant him entry. Bucky kisses like he’s trying to taste every single part of you and it sends waves of pleasure through your belly and to your core, where you grind down until you feel his hardening length beneath you.
Immediately, you start to strip him of his hoodie, divesting him of that layer to feel the soft shirt beneath—but only barely because it’s hell trying to pull his hands away from where they’re touching you.
And he’s touching you everywhere. His fingers roam over every generous piece of your body. The silken planes of your thighs where he’s pushed your shorts up, the wide canyons of your hips, the bumpy hills of your waist where your stomach is too big and too soft and where he slips his mismatched hands under your shirt to trace the lines of your stretch marks. It isn’t long until he brushes by the band of your bra and then he’s tugging at the hem of the shirt, pulling away from your lips long enough to rid you of it.
You take the moment to rid him of his too, and then you’re both topless, still sitting atop his lap and panting from lack of air. No words are shared between you before Bucky is capturing your mouth again. It’s only passion, frenzied and hot and wanting.
His fingers fumble with the hooks of your bra blindly as your teeth sink into his bottom lip, nipping and giggling and tangling your tongue around his. As soon as you hear the snap, you lean back and Bucky pulls it off you, flinging the offending garment somewhere else in the apartment.
Now, with your naked chest completely bared to him, you wait for it to happen. For his eyes to dart away, for the apprehension to cross his features, for the disgust to set it. The real reason that it’s been so long since you’ve invited someone into your empty apartment—into your empty life.
You’re scared.
Like you’re expecting the blow, you close your eyes and brace yourself, but you don’t cover up. You’ve learned not to cover up. You refuse to make yourself smaller, or prettier, or more tolerable for people. It’s why you don’t get entangled with one-night stands anymore, why you don’t ask strangers to come home with you, why you don’t let your girlfriends set you up with anyone. Because you refuse to make yourself something you’re not just to fit in, and that’s what always, always ends up happening.
Bucky touches you and it makes you flinch, his vibranium fingers a little chilly against the soft, warm skin of your stomach. He touches you and it’s electric, but you don’t open your eyes.
You’re too afraid to look and see the disappointment in his gorgeous blues.
His hands skim over your rib cage, sliding around the sides of your waist, his thumbs grazing the undersides of your breasts. You shiver at the contact. He continues his trail upwards, but then he lays his palms on your shoulders and caresses over your neck, his fingers finally finding the edge of your soft jaw to cradle your face. A shaky breath leaves you.
“Look at me,” he whispers, closer than you thought.
And no matter how much you’ll berate yourself over it later, there is something so safe about Bucky Barnes that your lashes flutter and your eyes open, and he’s right there, right there in front of you, staring at you with those stormy sea eyes half-lidded and glazed over with lust, his pink lips parted in awe, and you gasp at the intensity that strikes right through the center of you.
“You’re…” he trails off, swallowing nervously again. “Doll, I don’t think I know a word in English that describes you.”
Bucky presses forward, his chest brushing against your hardened nipples, stealing your breath and then sealing your lips with a kiss that isn’t like before. This kiss isn’t needy or wanting or filled with teeth and tongue and desperation. This time, his mouth moves with yours as if he’s trying to spell out a thousand words in twenty different languages to tell you how he feels, his lips leading yours in a dance that isn’t worried about an audience or the music or if you step on his toes.
When he pulls away, you wonder if your mouth is as swollen as his.
“You’re perfect,” he says with a finality in his tone that almost makes you collapse into his arms.
Then, Bucky wastes no time and captures a nipple in between those swollen lips, causing you to let out an embarrassingly loud noise in surprise. His metal hand finds your other breast, thumb stroking over the bud until you’re arching further into him. As his tongue traces patterns around one nipple, his fingers tweak and twist and pull its sister, and your hands grasp his broad shoulders in an attempt to hold on.
Finally, he presses gentle kisses over your rosy buds, all worn out by his touches, and then circles your breasts with more kitten licks and grazes of his teeth. Bucky’s hands settle at your hips again, fingers grasping your skin like he can’t get enough of the feel of you. He’s trying to imprint your body on his palms.
“I need to have you, doll,” he says all breathy as if he isn’t the one absolutely drenched right now. “Please. Please,” he asks so softly that you wonder if this is the man who even came to your rescue today, all tall and brooding. When you grind down on his lap again, feeling his hard cock beneath his jeans as he lets out a groan and tightens his grip on your waist, you realize you’re not the only one feeling the tension.
Still, there’s something cheeky left in you and you reach out to swipe your finger across his nose, effectively booping it cutely. A grin splits your lips.
“You need me?” you ask teasingly. “What if I need you instead?”
It’s like it sets something ablaze in him or something, ‘cause as soon as you go in for another kiss, Bucky stands up from the couch, his hands cradling your ass as you shriek and wrap your legs around him in reflex.
“Oh my god—”
“Now you’ve done it,” he grunts, burying his face in your neck to pepper kisses all over the stretch of skin that encompasses your shoulder, your jawline, even up into your hairline by your ear.
“Oh my god, put me down Bucky, I’m—you’re gonna drop me, I’m too heavy!”
“Heavy?” He chuckles against your throat and the vibrations almost make you shudder in pleasure. God, what is this man doing to you? “Darlin’, I don’t think you know the meaning of heavy.”
Bucky flashes you a wide, almost predatory grin, and you wonder where that soft, nervous boy went.
“If I wanted to,” he says, his voice low and steady, “I could fuck you right here, in the middle of the room, for hours.” He must feel the shiver that goes through your entire body because he’s laughing again. “But I want to fuck you into your mattress if that’s okay. Can I do that?”
Your throat feels dry when you whisper, “Yes. Please.”
He punctuates your plea with a heated kiss to your lips, his tongue tasting the citrus and bubble from your mimosas, the alcohol long since worn off. It’s all him that you feel, all him that intoxicates you, and all him around you as he walks you into your bedroom, not even straining under your weight, and dumps you onto the middle of your sheets.
There, he cages you, hovering above you to kiss down your body, already intent on tearing your shorts off.
“Bucky,” you whine. In the afternoon light streaming through the single window in your room, his eyes are a startling color you wish you could name, all clear and confident and crystal and god, god, his fingers are already exploring the slit of your core so lightly it makes you flush and want to hide, your inner thighs sticky and coated in your own slick from how hot he’s made you with such simple touches.
“You want me?” he asks as if he doesn’t know.
“Yes,” you hiss in pleasure, body writhing beneath him. Bucky leans down to kiss the shell of your ear, his tongue blazing a hot trail that makes you moan and buck your hips up to meet his, but he won’t have any of that.
“Good,” he says, “‘cause I need to have you, and I don’t plan on letting you go ‘till I’ve gotten everything you’ve got to give, doll.”
That nervous Bucky, all awkward smiles and panicked glances and sweet lines, he’s gone. In his place is this Bucky, assured and charming and suave and smooth and making your eyes roll back into your head until a scream is threatening to burst from your lips unless he swallows it with his own kiss, which he does, over and over again.
“I’m gonna ravage you, darlin’.”
You aren’t sure which one you like better—but is it greedy to say both?
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As the light of a new day spreads through your apartment, you awaken easily, softly, but painfully. Someone’s pulled the blankets up to your chin and tucked them around you, and the thought leaves an empty feeling inside of you. When you stretch, every part of you burns deliciously, a memory from the hours spent in bed, on the couch, on the fucking counter after you’d eaten and he still wasn’t satisfied, and then again in bed.
And now, looking over at the space beside you, he’s gone. His clothes are gone from the floor. There’s no sound echoing in the building. He even left you tucked in, for god’s sake.
Your apartment is just as it always has been—empty.
With a groan, you kick the covers off and plant your feet on the floor, willing yourself to get up. The ache in your muscles is nothing more than a pleasant memory, an unpleasant reminder of the marks he left on you, his absence.
Stop it. You shouldn’t have even gotten attached to him in the first place. You knew what this was, and he did too, and it’s no wonder he’s gone this morning.
Get over it.
You swipe an oversized shirt from your dresser and throw it over your head as you stride out toward the kitchen, content to go pantyless for the day after the abuse you put it through last night. Yawning, your eyes screwed shut in another big stretch to warm up your overused muscles, you hear him before you see him.
“Mornin’, doll.”
Like that, your eyes snap open and he’s there, standing in your tiny kitchen in nothing but last night’s boxers, looking fucking glorious in the spotlight of the warm sun that’s streaming through the room and highlighting the counters.
“Bucky?” you ask, but it’s a little loud and a little shrieking, something you don’t intend. But all he does is smile at you, metal fingers tapping the plastic countertop, so at ease he just looks like he belongs there.
“I thought I’d make you breakfast but you have nothing in your fridge,” he jokes, leaning back against the drawers and crossing his arms over his bare chest.
You shift, embarrassed, looking anywhere but at him. “Yeah, I need to go shopping.”
A long stretch of silence fills your apartment and you’re unsure of what to say in order to break it. Bucky’s clearly watching you, drinking in the sight of your love-marked body, bruises peeking out of the hem of your shirt that barely skims past the tops of your thighs, and you remember you’re wearing nothing underneath.
And he’s here, right here, and you really aren’t sure why. It seems the two of you have almost switched places. Where Bucky was nervous and shy at first, he’s now confident and comfortable and you’re left with heated cheeks and a tongue-tied in knots. Whatever boldness that came over you all yesterday has fled.
It’s left a deep pocket of insecurity inside of you.
“Why are you still here?” you ask, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible, like you don’t care, but your voice shakes a little. He’s too far away to really tell, but you think a flash of hurt passes over Bucky’s brow.
“‘Cause you still owe me a drink,” he says as if it's obvious, a small smile still sitting so prettily on his mouth.
You blink, a little confused, but shuffle closer. “Bloody Mary?”
“Yeah,” he says with a deep breath, his grin growing bigger the closer that you come toward him. “Will you still make me one?”
You nod, toes finally crossing into the kitchen, and then you and Bucky are staring at each other. There are scratches left like the bones of a graveyard on his arms, and you’re almost sure if he turned around they’d cover his neck and back just as well. Seeing those reddened marks, similar to the bruises he’s left on you, makes you relax your shoulders just a little.
“Do you need help?” he asks, eyes sweeping over your barely covered form.
“No,” you say, heading to the kitchen which is little more than a countertop, a stove, and a fridge. “But you can keep me company.”
So this is what happens in the morning after. Bucky leans against the counter next to you, watching you with a burning intensity that nearly matches last night’s, and you pull all the ingredients out and line them up next to two glasses and try not to falter under his gaze. He looks at you like you’re this fascinating thing he needs to study and it bothers you, but only in the best of ways.
“Do you always stare this hard at your dates?” A smile plays at your lips as you crack open the tomato juice.
He doesn’t look away. “No,” he says, but he sounds unsure. “Is this a date, doll?” There’s something in his voice that you can’t figure out, faintly hopeful, fairly confused. Vaguely surprised, even.
You shrug. “Maybe.” Especially after all of yesterday, you would hope he thought so.
But Bucky shakes his head. “No.”
That hurt more than you were expecting it to. Calling yourself his date had only been a joke meant to lighten the mood, ease him up a little, cure the tension swirling in the room. You guess you should have expected it, though. You owed him a drink—he didn’t owe you a date. It wasn’t supposed to be a date, anyway.
All you had done was sleep together, for fuck’s sake. This is why you hate morning afters. This is why you would have preferred it if he had been gone when you woke.
But was that even true? Because the relief you felt when you found him waiting for you in the kitchen was immense and hard to understand.
You open the bottle of vodka a little more forcefully than you intended.
“When we go out on a real date,” he continues, and your eyes meet, “I’ll be taking you out and treating you.” A slow grin crawls over his face that reminds you of his wicked mouth and what it can do and the sight makes your heart beat and beat and beat, faster and faster, like the wings of a hummingbird, quick quick quick.
“When,” he affirms.
“That’s bold of you,” you say, popping ice cubes from a tray into the glasses.
“Maybe,” he says, “but I know what I want now.” Bucky shifts a little closer to you, his vibranium arm brushing by the bare skin of your soft one as you try and focus on not spilling the juice, but you can smell him and he smells like cedar and bergamot and smoke and clove. A smell that consumed you whole last night, surrounded you, drowned you in it.
He’s so close you can feel him inhale.
“I’ve lived a long time not knowing—not getting to decide—what I want,” he admits, his voice low and quiet and soothing your nervous heart. “So you can call it bold, but I call it right.”
The sincerity in his voice makes your hands still and you look up at him, eyes wide. In the soft white lights of your tiny kitchen, sharing the tight space with him so close, Bucky’s eyes are thunder and rain and lightning all at once, peace and chaos both, promising release and the sweet scent of earth and oil afterward.
“You don’t even know me,” you whisper.
Bucky leans closer. “But I want to.”
He’s so close, too close, close enough that he can surely hear the rhythm of your heart, unsteady and racing just for him. You could surge forward and kiss him, stake your claim once again on those pinkened lips that have held your attention from the first time you saw them, feel the stubble of his jaw rub against the soft peach fuzz of your own, let it remind you of how it felt against the apex of your thighs as he made you cry out over and over again, breaking on his tongue over and over again.
It makes you feel dizzier than any alcohol ever could.
But Bucky reaches over, past you, and takes one of the glasses from your hand, warm fingers brushing over your cooler ones. He holds it up, toward you, gesturing for a toast. With a swallow, hardly glancing away from his slate eyes to grab the other glass, you tap your Bloody Mary against his with a soft clink.
He watches you over the rim as he takes his first sip and you think he might be smirking. Then, he darts toward you and takes your lips in his own, tasting of spice and tomato juice and perfection, all Bucky, all for you.
When he pulls away, too quickly, he rests his forehead against your and looks down at you, staring into your hazy eyes.
“Will you let me stay?” he asks, like he doesn’t know what you’ll say. The soft, nervous Bucky is peeking out from behind his confident visage once again, his voice hopeful and frightened and the hand that’s gliding beneath your shirt and over your waist more timid than it was last night.
There’s a million things you can say. You can tell him to take you out to brunch instead. You can tell him you’re too busy. You can tell him that this was a one-night stand, it was only ever meant to be a one night stand, and that it was fun but you can’t afford to get attached to him and god, you know you’re going to get attached to him if he stays and that scares the ever-living fuck out of you. You can tell him that it’s messy here, inside your empty apartment, inside your empty heart. You can tell him that he could take up residence here. You can tell him so, so many things.
“Yes,” you say instead, and Bucky laughs against your mouth when he kisses you hard once more.
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distilled-prose · 5 months ago
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Holly Butcher posted her advice to the world, 24 hours before she died of cancer. This was her message... A bit of life advice from Hol: “It’s a strange thing to realise and accept your mortality at 26 years young. It’s just one of those things you ignore. The days tick by and you just expect they will keep on coming; Until the unexpected happens. I always imagined myself growing old, wrinkled and grey- most likely caused by the beautiful family (lots of kiddies) I planned on building with the love of my life. I want that so bad it hurts. That’s the thing about life; It is fragile, precious and unpredictable and each day is a gift, not a given right. I’m 27 now. I don’t want to go. I love my life. I am happy.. I owe that to my loved ones. But the control is out of my hands. I haven’t started this ‘note before I die’ so that death is feared – I like the fact that we are mostly ignorant to it’s inevitability.. Except when I want to talk about it and it is treated like a ‘taboo’ topic that will never happen to any of us.. That’s been a bit tough. I just want people to stop worrying so much about the small, meaningless stresses in life and try to remember that we all have the same fate after it all so do what you can to make your time feel worthy and great, minus the bullshit. I have dropped lots of my thoughts below as I have had a lot of time to ponder life these last few months. Of course it’s the middle of the night when these random things pop in my head most! 1) Those times you are whinging about ridiculous things (something I have noticed so much these past few months), just think about someone who is really facing a problem. Be grateful for your minor issue and get over it. It’s okay to acknowledge that something is annoying but try not to carry on about it and negatively effect other people’s days. 2) Once you do that, get out there and take a freaking big breath of that fresh Aussie air deep in your lungs, look at how blue the sky is and how green the trees are; It is so beautiful. Think how lucky you are to be able to do just that – breathe. 3) You might have got caught in bad traffic today, or had a bad sleep because your beautiful babies kept you awake, or your hairdresser cut your hair too short. Your new fake nails might have got a chip, your boobs are too small, or you have cellulite on your arse and your belly is wobbling. Let all that shit go.. I swear you will not be thinking of those things when it is your turn to go. It is all SO insignificant when you look at life as a whole. I’m watching my body waste away right before my eyes with nothing I can do about it and all I wish for now is that I could have just one more Birthday or Christmas with my family, or just one more day with my partner and dog. Just one more. 4) I hear people complaining about how terrible work is or about how hard it is to exercise – Be grateful you are physically able to. Work and exercise may seem like such trivial things … until your body doesn’t allow you to do either of them. I tried to live a healthy life, in fact, that was probably my major passion. Appreciate your good health and functioning body- even if it isn’t your ideal size. Look after it and embrace how amazing it is. Move it and nourish it with fresh food. Don’t obsess over it. 5) Remember there are more aspects to good health than the physical body.. work just as hard on finding your mental, emotional and spiritual happiness too. That way you might realise just how insignificant and unimportant having this stupidly portrayed perfect social media body really is.. While on this topic, delete any account that pops up on your news feeds that gives you any sense of feeling shit about yourself. Friend or not.. Be ruthless for your own well-being. 6) Be grateful for each day you don’t have pain and even the days where you are unwell with man flu, a sore back or a sprained ankle, accept it is shit but be thankful it isn’t life threatening and will go away. 7) Whinge less, people! .. And help each other more. 📷 Give, give, give. It is true that you gain
more happiness doing things for others than doing them for yourself. I wish I did this more. Since I have been sick, I have met the most incredibly giving and kind people and been the receiver of the most thoughtful and loving words and support from my family, friends and strangers; More than I could I ever give in return. I will never forget this and will be forever grateful to all of these people. 9) It is a weird thing having money to spend at the end.. when you’re dying. It’s not a time you go out and buy material things that you usually would, like a new dress. It makes you think how silly it is that we think it is worth spending so much money on new clothes and ‘things’ in our lives. Buy your friend something kind instead of another dress, beauty product or jewellery for that next wedding. 1. No-one cares if you wear the same thing twice 2. It feels good. Take them out for a meal, or better yet, cook them a meal. Shout their coffee. Give/ buy them a plant, a massage or a candle and tell them you love them when you give it to them. 10) Value other people’s time. Don’t keep them waiting because you are shit at being on time. Get ready earlier if you are one of those people and appreciate that your friends want to share their time with you, not sit by themselves, waiting on a mate. You will gain respect too! Amen sister. 11) This year, our family agreed to do no presents and despite the tree looking rather sad and empty (I nearly cracked Christmas Eve!), it was so nice because people didn’t have the pressure of shopping and the effort went into writing a nice card for each other. Plus imagine my family trying to buy me a present knowing they would probably end up with it themselves.. strange! It might seem lame but those cards mean more to me than any impulse purchase could. Mind you, it was also easier to do in our house because we had no little kiddies there. Anyway, moral of the story- presents are not needed for a meaningful Christmas. Moving on. 12) Use your money on experiences.. Or at least don’t miss out on experiences because you spent all your money on material shit. 13) Put in the effort to do that day trip to the beach you keep putting off. Dip your feet in the water and dig your toes in the sand. Wet your face with salt water. 14) Get amongst nature. 15) Try just enjoying and being in moments rather than capturing them through the screen of your phone. Life isn’t meant to be lived through a screen nor is it about getting the perfect photo.. enjoy the bloody moment, people! Stop trying to capture it for everyone else. Random rhetorical question. Are those several hours you spend doing your hair and make up each day or to go out for one night really worth it? I’ve never understood this about females 📷. 16) Get up early sometimes and listen to the birds while you watch the beautiful colours the sun makes as it rises. 17) Listen to music.. really listen. Music is therapy. Old is best. 18) Cuddle your dog. Far out, I will miss that. 19) Talk to your friends. Put down your phone. Are they doing okay? 20) Travel if it’s your desire, don’t if it’s not. 21) Work to live, don’t live to work. Seriously, do what makes your heart feel happy. 22) Eat the cake. Zero guilt. 23) Say no to things you really don’t want to do. 24) Don’t feel pressured to do what other people might think is a fulfilling life.. you might want a mediocre life and that is so okay. 25) Tell your loved ones you love them every time you get the chance and love them with everything you have. 26) Also, remember if something is making you miserable, you do have the power to change it – in work or love or whatever it may be. Have the guts to change. You don’t know how much time you’ve got on this earth so don’t waste it being miserable. I know that is said all the time but it couldn’t be more true. Anyway, that’s just this one young gals life advice. Take it or leave it, I don’t mind! Oh and one last thing, if you can, do a good deed for humanity (and myself) and start regularly donating blood. It will make you feel good with
the added bonus of saving lives. I feel like it is something that is so overlooked considering every donation can save 3 lives! That is a massive impact each person can have and the process really is so simple. Blood donation (more bags than I could keep up with counting) helped keep me alive for an extra year - a year I will be forever grateful that I got to spend it here on Earth with my family, friends and dog. A year I had some of the greatest times of my life. ..’Til we meet again. Hol Xoxo”
anyway, there it is
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deludedimagines · 8 months ago
A rare day off
Summary: You and Levi have a rare day off and shower each other in love and affection.
Warnings: fluff, straight up fluff and love. 
Word Count: 2.8k
A/n: I hope you enjoy this! I’m a writer who emerges from under a rock when I get inspired and oh boy am I inspired to write Levi x reader stuff. I mostly wrote this as self-indulgent to find some fluff/comfort after that last episode. Hope it brings something good for you too. 
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 With a tray of tea in your hand, you nudged open the door as carefully as you could. From where you stood you could see Levi fast asleep, his head tilted slightly accentuating his striking jaw and making him such a beautiful sight to behold. You could stand there forever and watch as your lover slept, so rare was it that he would get a few hours together without waking up and you almost wanted to leave him be. But as much as you wanted him to rest, you were eager to spend time with him. Tiptoeing across the ground as silently as you could while practically cradling the tray of tea, you placed it down on the bedside table, slowly. A few moments later you eased yourself back on to your side of the bed.
 You placed a chaste kiss to Levi’s cheek before kissing the other side and placing a small kiss to his nose. Levi stirred slightly, his eyes opening blearily as he adjusted to his surroundings. Propping your head on your hand, you smiled lovingly in his direction and placed a hand on his cheek, running your thumb across his skin softly. The action caused a small smile to appear on Levi’s lips, the one reserved for you and his hand rested over yours.
 “Good morning.” You hummed, your voice practically a soft whisper. “Morning.” His deep voice responded, closing his eyes momentarily while he took a few moments. Not long after his arm wrapped around your waist and pulled you close to his chest. Levi always thought how perfectly you seemed to fit in his arms, like you were made to be there and if he had his way, he’d never let you go.
“Today is our day off.” Your hand that had been placed on his cheek moved away as you both laced your fingers together. With your head on his chest, his arm tucking you close to his warm body and your hands laced together, you wanted nothing more than to stay like this forever. “Hm” came his only reply.
 “I was thinking we could start the day off with tea, then maybe a walk through the markets?”
 A deep chuckle came from Levi and he cracked an eye open to meet your hopeful gaze. “Its our day off and you’ve created a schedule.”
 Your lips curved in a slight smile and you leaned your head upwards to press a small kiss to his soft lips. “I only want to make this the best day off.” You murmured against his lips and by then both of his eyes were open, the haziness of sleep seemingly wearing off as he looked like he was thinking clearly now.
 Levi moved his hand from your waist to tuck some stray strands of your hair behind your ear before he cupped your cheek in his hand and brought his lips to yours with a more passionate kiss than you had given moments beforehand. Your hand gripped Levi’s more firmly and he parted from your lips ever so slightly “Very well, but before we have tea, let’s start the day off right.”
 In a split second your back was pressed against the mattress and Levi was hovering over you, his leg moving in between yours to part them before his lips rightfully met yours again and all other thoughts left your mind except your love for him
             ⊱ ────── {.⋅ ➴ ⋅.} ────── ⊰
“Oi, Levi, y/n where are you two going?”
 An hour later you both left your room in clothes you rarely wore: your civilian ones and even though it was rare to be dressed like this, you rather wished there was more opportunities to see Levi wearing a suit.
 “None of your business four eyes.”
 “The market.” Both your responses came at the same time and Levi only tsked. You were close with Hange, rather eager to hear about their experiments, much to Levi’s dismay as that often meant he had to hear it too.
 With Hange standing in the middle of the hall, looking for all the world, ready to share another finding, Levi continued walking, but you stopped momentarily and offered Hange a small smile. “Want anything?”
 Hange took a moment to think before shaking their head, which only made you smile more “I’ll bring back a surprise then, see you later Hange!”
 With a wave you took off into a small jog to meet up with Levi and looped your arm around his. Maybe it was the day that was in it, after the morning you would both shared and the promise of a relatively peaceful day that made Levi tolerate linking his arm with yours. It wasn’t that he didn’t like being close to you, in fact he could hardly get enough of being close to you, it was just that public displays of affection of any form were not an easy thing for him.
 It seemed most of the barracks was empty when you both left, some were probably training, others also had a day off. Still a day off was quite rare for you both since you were a squad leader and were often caught up with paperwork if you had a spare moment. But today was something you had been looking forward to, it was going to be a day you would cherish.
 The smell of freshly baked goods was what alerted you that you were close to the markets. Most of the distance was spent just enjoying each-others company, with you taking in your surroundings while Levi kept his gaze forward. The aromatic smell of those baked goods was only making your stomach rumble and you bit your lip softly as a small blush rose on your cheeks. It was slightly embarrassing, you should have had more than just tea for breakfast and even though Levi had the same, he appeared as calm and collected as he normally did, yet you had no doubt he had heard your stomach practically scream that you were hungry. But you would ignore it, maybe get a bit closer to a stall before buying something.
 Levi suddenly took a different turn and with your head caught up in your thoughts you almost broke your linked arms going in another direction before you quickly turned his way too. “Where are we going?”
 “To this stall.”
 You didn’t get time to ask anything else before Levi was pointing at a pastry and handing over money in a smooth sequence of events that you could only blink a few times before a wrapped pastry was offered to you. A small smile tugged on your lips and you took the pastry, noticing how it was your favourite type. Levi Ackerman knew you perfectly.
 The afternoon was spent browsing from stall to stall, all the while you seemed more interested than Levi, but he was perfectly content to just be in your company and it was relaxing enough to have to immediate responsibility. As promised, you picked up Hange a selection of baked goods, some were their favourite and some you hoped would be their new favourite.
 At one stage you found yourself browsing some clothes stalls and suggested to Levi as nonchalant as you could, that you both meet up again in 30 minutes. Not surprisingly, he agreed and you both went on your way for a few moments. It was enough time for you to dart away from the clothes stalls and back towards the tea stalls you had spotted earlier. Although Levi had browsed the selection far longer than he had any other stall, he didn’t buy anything, but now with him looking somewhere else you bought the selection he had his eye on. Some teas were his classic and well-loved favourites and the vendor had been kind enough to offer some bags to hold the collection. Placing Hange’s stuff on top and the two new jumpers you bought over the teas, you were entirely satisfied that Levi wouldn’t guess what you had bought. Thanking the vendor, you made on your way after having arrived with on bag and leaving with four. Sure, you may have blown your spending budget out of proportion, but the thought of surprising Levi was worth it.
            ⊱ ────── {.⋅ ➴ ⋅.} ────── ⊰
By the time you both found yourselves walking back to the barracks, the sun was beginning to set. A soft orange hue was painted across the sky, growing deeper closer to the horizon. Despite Levi’s offer to help you carry your bags, which had grown by one more, you adamantly refused, afraid that he would feel the light enough weight and guess what was inside. That would spoil the whole point of the surprise.
 “Tsk. You’re too damn stubborn.”
 In comparison to his one paper bag that was tucked neatly under his arm, you looked a sorry sight with five bags in total, but the day had been perfect so far and you could hardly complain.
 “You bought a lot in 30 minutes.”
 You hummed a reply, not willing to offer anymore to him.
 “Put it in your quarters, we don’t have the room in mine.”
 While you slept in Levi’s room practically every night, you still kept your own room. Sometimes you wondered why you even bothered, but since neither of you had formally discussed moving more of your stuff into his room, it felt fine to leave it for now. If anything, your former quarters had turned into a storage space and it was moments like these which made you glad that you had it.
 “Alright, I’ll see you afterwards.” Placing a small kiss on his cheek you offered him a smile before walking the familiar route back to your room. On the way you placed Hange’s gift outside their door and knocked twice before continuing onwards, you were sure they’d get them and would have plenty of time to tell you about it tomorrow. Tidying away your new clothes and organising the tea into different bags, you made your way back to Levi’s room with a soft hum falling from your lips.
 The day had been everything you wanted, quality time with Levi and a sense of relaxation. There had been so many days filled with the weight of responsibility, grief and enough violence that if your younger self saw where you were now, they would be utterly horrified. Yet it was days like these, or stolen moments in between that was able to push you onwards. You loved Levi with all your heart and he made every day worthwhile, even if there wasn’t much time to see him. It was all worth it when you could both be wrapped in each others arms at night and just forget about everything else.
 With your thoughts filled entirely with your love, when you opened the door a while later, you stopped dead in your tracks. Instead of the usual minimal candlelight on the bedside table, numerous candles were placed on the floor, flickering lights making a path from the door to round in a circle where Levi stood. Your eyes widened taking in the picture, how there was a bouquet of flowers resting on the bedside table on the side where you slept, how between the soft candlelight and the pale moonlight coming from the window, it managed to paint Levi in a completely different light.
 Levi stepped forward as you closed the door softly and leaned against it trying to take in what was happening. Your eyes were wide as you looked at your lover who had taken the time since you’d come back to put such a set up together. Maybe he had help.
 “Y/n.” Hearing his voice say your name caused your heart to beat wildly and you placed the bags from the market down outside the row of candles momentarily. By then Levi was closer to you now and he reached out to take both of your hands in his to guide you towards the circle of candles.
 “Levi…what is all this…” your voice came out quieter than you thought it would, you expected to just come in and give him tea, maybe you would both share a cup. But now, you could hardly take in what was happening, let alone what was about to.
 “Just follow me.” His voice was endearing, patient, albeit a small bit nervous? But that couldn’t be right…
 With you both standing in the centre of the candles, Levi’s thumb brushed against your skin in a soothing way and you met your gaze with his. “Y/n, I love you. You’re the perfect woman.” His hand reached up to cup your cheek in the palm of his hand and he rested his forehead against yours “You make the day less shitty by being here. You’re far more than I deserve…” and before you knew it, Levi bent down on one knee, with his hand slipping into his pocket to produce a little box. With one movement the box was in his hands, open with a silver ring in the centre while he looked up at you with the look in his eyes that was reserved just for you. “W-will you m-marry me?”
 Your eyes filled with tears, for once with happiness as your chest swelled with such joy. You were afraid you’d blink and this would all be a dream. You dropped to your knees beside him and nodded your head a few times “yes” fell from your lips so softly that you thought he mightn’t have heard, but he did, as clear as day and one word caused all nervousness to leave his body as a small smile found its way onto his lips. The tears fell from your eyes while Levi took your left hand in his and delicately placed the ring on your finger. Afterwards, with expert care, Levi brushed the tears away from your face and kissed you once the stream had stopped. You wrapped your arms around his neck and a small laugh passed your lips. “And to think, I thought buying you tea would be the biggest surprise of the evening.”
 “You bought tea?” Levi glanced over your shoulder at the bags and you nodded your head “Enough to last you a while.”
 “Ow horseface, you’re stepping on my hand!”
 “Shut up, they’ll hear you idiot!”
 You raised your eyebrows in Levi’s direction, putting the pieces together and he wiped one final tear from your cheek before standing up and making his way to the door. You managed to stand up in enough time before the door was pulled open suddenly and Levi’s squad tumbled in through the door narrowly missing some candles and avoiding setting the place on fire.
 “Oi brats, what the fuck do you think you’re doing.” With Levi’s back to you, you could only imagine the look he was giving his squad was as deathly as his tone and you brought your hand to your mouth in an attempt to cover the smile that was forming on your lips.
 For a moment none of the scouts moved, glued to the spot under Levi’s gaze and then as suddenly as they burst through the door, the argument started over who’s idea and fault this was. It was a sudden cacophony of shouts and accusations while some profuse apologies wound their way through the noise.
 Hange appeared from the side of the doorway, rubbing the back of their neck bashfully with Erwin standing at a safe distance as if he were detached from the scene unfolding. You would later find out that Levi had asked Erwin for you both to have this day off and while they were discussing the plans, Hange had overheard everything and simply gushed in excitement over the potential engagement. And any time you weren’t present, Hange endlessly questioned Levi about his plans, to which he had often told them to shut up before you overheard. The secret had managed to be kept from you, but as Levi’s squad lay continuing to argue over who’s great idea to eavesdrop was, it was clear one of them had managed to overhear some of the plans.
 “Congratulations, Levi, y/n.” Erwin’s deep voice managed to carry over through the scouts squabbling and Hange beamed “Yes, congratulations!” and even with your hand covering your mouth you couldn’t manage to contain your smile.
 Levi glanced back towards you, the stern gaze melting away slightly when he looked at you. It would return moments later when he would tell his squad they had stable duty for a month and if they didn’t leave quickly it would become two. That made them vanish rather quickly with Erwin and Hange taking their leave not long after. With the door finally closed and just the two of you your hand lowered from your mouth, your heart brimming with joy. 
 Engaged to Levi, the best day off indeed.
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v1oletvenus · a month ago
the stars in our eyes
songfic: what being in a secret relationship with sirius would be like.
content: sirius black x fem reader, swears, reader briefly stress non-eating, fluff, steamy content
a/n: this song is the sweetest ever and the lyrics are adorable i highly reccomend besties - if you watched ATAPS you might know it ;) literally I've been writing so much for sirius but I've got some other marauder stuff lined up 🤪 hope u enjoy besties <3
Cradle me, I'll cradle you
Giggles drifted in the midnight air as you and Sirius snuggled, talking about everything and nothing all at once.
What with the other marauders being asleep, he'd casted the muffliato charm hours ago to conceal your conversation from their ears.
The marauders always had you in their dorm - you were friends with all of them, of course. But while the others were sleeping and thought you had left, you and Sirius stayed up most of the night talking in his bed.
It was the only real alone time you got at the magical boarding school, what with constant prying eyes and no privacy. The early hours provided a cover that the both of you hid yourselves behind each night.
Though the both of you were somewhat tired most days, it was worth it to spend those small hours in each other's arms.
He had you tucked into his chest, limbs entangled, his hands smoothing your back and lulling you to sleep.
"Pads." you whispered. "I have to go." you smiled sleepily, as he groaned, merely pulling you closer.
"We don't want the others waking up and finding me here, Siri." you explained, tucking his messy hair behind his ear.
He let out a long sigh, opening his eyes slowly. "Just stay here a few minutes longer." he pleaded.
"Okay." you whispered, cuddling back into him.
I mean, how could you say no?
I'll win your heart with a woop a woo
Though your relationship was a secret, Sirius Black was still an infamous flirt. People knew the both of you to have amorous exchanges even before real attraction was on the cards, so he kept up the front.
You walked down the dorm room steps and into the common room, fumbling to zip your bag closed as you prepared for a day out in Hogsmeade.
"Hey, guys!" you beamed over at the marauders, who were waiting for you by the door.
Sirius' eyes unashamedly raked over your body, dumbfounded by how pretty you looked in anything you put on. He noticed the dress you were wearing was new, and wanted everyone to know what he thought about it.
A low wolf whistle was sent your way, which commanded the attention of a lot of the room. You blushed, laughing, as you walked closer to them.
"You clean up nice, L/n." Sirius said, slinging an arm around your shoulder.
You only responded with even more bashful giggling. You were good at disregarding his remarks before, but now you knew his feelings for you... you couldn't hide it as well.
"Ready to go?" Remus asked, oblivious to the whole thing.
"Yep." You confirmed, and the five of you began to walk towards the portrait hole.
"I mean it," Sirius whispered. "You're gorgeous."
Pulling shapes just for your eyes
You had seen him from across the room - in fact, you knew exactly how long he'd been in the room because you kept looking for him ever since you came down.
And without fail, whenever you searched for his eyes, his were looking for yours.
As you danced, the common room was bustling with drunken teenagers and the scent of firewhiskey and smoke floating in the air.
You saw Sirius in the crowd, talking to someone in just the right position so as to still be able to look at you in notion.
You smiled, intensifying the 'sexy' of your dance moves as you kept your focus on him. This proved to work, as he chuckled, shaking his head, and quickly finished his conversation.
Meandering his way around the crowd to find you, he subtly slipped a hand in yours and you let him pull you away, and upstairs.
"Missed me, huh?" you joked, biting your lip.
"You made it very hard not to." he chuckled, referencing your tantalising dancing.
You were like magnets, always wanting to be closeby.
So with toothpaste kisses and lines
You tried to cover your mouth as the fluoride foam dribbled down your chin, but he moved your hand away from your face, laughing around his toothbrush.
He leaned in to kiss you, and you dodged it, frowning jokingly and shaking your head.
"'Thatsh grosh, Shiri." you said, your voice muffled by your toothbrush and the mint paste frothing up in your mouth.
You quickly washed your mouth out with water, Sirius doing the same, before he picked you up and placed you on the counter next to the sink, standing between your legs and running hands along the skin underneath his your shirt.
You smiled down at him, resting your forehead against his.
You were so glad you could have normal couple moments like this when all your roomates were staying with their respective partners.
"Gonna let me kiss you, now?" he asked. You nodded, cheeks now aching from how much you were smiling.
Butterflies flooded your abdomen as he pressed a lingering kiss to your lips, tasting like his mint toothpaste.
You parted, still smiling, as his fingers traced all the lines of your body - your hips, your thighs, your collarbones, fully appreciating every inch of you.
"You're beautiful."
I'll be yours and you'll be...
There were other sides to the secrecy - certain difficulties.
Though futile, you found it hard having to sit there and listen to conversations about how 'hot' your boyfriend was and how girls would opt to have sex with him in a game of fuck, marry, kill.
And you couldn't say anything - he wasn't openly yours, yet.
Seeing girls actually try to pursue him was the worst. And sometimes he'd let it happen. But you understood why - he was known to be a playboy. Who could possibly assume he'd have something else going on behind the scenes?
All you could do was sit there, trying not to stare or listen so as to not upset yourself.
It was similar for him; he wished he could kiss you in front of everyone after you got a high score on a test, or wrap his arms around you whenever someone would try to ask you out.
But he practiced restraint. The both of you did.
Because you couldn't call each other 'mine'.
Lay with me, I'll lay with you
"Can I see him?" you asked Madam Pomfrey tentatively, after you'd snuck into the hospital after hours.
"Yes, dear, but only for a short while. The boy needs his rest."
"Thankyou, thankyou!"
Sirius had been injured in a quidditch match, much to his chagrin. He saw your concerned face as he limped from the pitch towards the nurse's ward, and hated himself for causing you worry.
But you didn't look worried when you stuck your head around the curtain of his hospital bed - you looked at him in pure adoration.
He wanted your eyes on him forever.
"How are you feeling?" you asked immediately, enlacing your fingers with his as the curtains shrouded the both of you from view.
"Better now." he flirted, reaching up to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, that crooked smile appearing on his face.
He began to shuffle over, wincing in pain as he did so. You wished you could take away that pain - but all he wanted was just your presence.
"C'mere." he beckoned, lifting the covers up for you to slip under. Nestling into his chest, you sighed.
"You were amazing out there, Siri."
"I flew into a bludger. Not my finest hour."
"Well, 's not your fault the bludger had a vendetta."
We'll do the things that lovers do
Sitting in the Great Hall with the entire school in the room was a feat, especially when the both of you sat next to each other.
You couldn't resist footsying him under the table, or leaning into him in a way that looked normal, brushing your hand with his as you reached across the table for various items.
Then there were more obvious things that would've been glazed over by your mates - Sirius pouring out your water for you, the two of you stealing food from each other's plate, the long held glances you shared.
But holding hands was something you adored.
His thumb brushed against your knuckles as your fingers intertwined out of sight, you fiddling with his rings on particularly stressful mornings.
"You've barely touched your food, Y/n/n..." he'd notice, whispering his concern to you so only you could hear.
"Just a bit stressed, is all." you explained.
And he'd know exactly what you needed. A subtle arm around you, circling warm patterns on the small of your back for encouragement and reassurance.
You lived for these secret signs of affection.
Put the stars in our eyes
"Look, it's Sirius!"
"No, I'm right here."
"Look up, Pads."
The two of you were laying on the soft grass, cuddled together in a hidden area of the grounds where nobody would find you. Sneaking back into the castle at this time would be a feat, but that was an issue for later.
For now, you were staring at the canis major constellation twinkling above you in the sky.
"You see that star right next to it?" Sirius asked, pointing to the star twinkling right alongside it. "It's called Mirzam, but I think I'd rather it be Y/n." He smiled.
You giggled into his chest, before sitting up slightly, leaning on your elbow.
"You can't just go around renaming stars, Siri."
"Who says? That star was named after me."
"Sirius, I don't think that's how it-"
He cut you off by leaning up and kissing you. When he leaned back again, he smirked in triumph. You laughed at how childish he could be sometimes, despite the fact that you were in one of your last years at Hogwarts.
"So it's settled. Now I've got you by my side forever." he grinned, tickling you as you let out shrieking giggles.
And with heart shaped bruises
You smiled as you looked at yourself in the mirror, the hickeys and love bites left by your lover adorning your neck and chest. You found his marks beautiful - everyone knew you belonged to someone, though they didn't know it was him.
You put on one of his sweat shirts that had somehow landed in your posession, yet another signifier that you were his.
As it was a Sunday and Sirius was busy with the marauders gallavanting around the school pranking whoever, you took your time that morning, deciding to write in your journal a little.
You flicked through, smiling giddily at all the magical moving polaroids you'd stuck in there of your time at hogwarts.
There were several of him - your favourite being the first day you met, at midnight quidditch. The picture was captured while the both of you laughed at something in the distance, but it was so perfect.
You knew even back then that you were going to fall in love with him.
And late night kisses divine
You let out a soft moan as Sirius planted hot, wet kisses down your neck, the atmosphere around you humid and sweaty as Sirius moved in and out of you.
"Sirius..." you breathed out his name, dragging your nails along his back as he groaned at the feeling.
He loved everything about sex with you - your legs wrapped tightly around his middle as he thrusted, your eyes rolling to the back of your head as he consistently hit your sweet spot, the soft sighs you let out of smiling lips with his praise and loving words.
Times like this were your favourite, too - words could no longer serve their purpose after long conversations that drifted into the early hours. Smiles turned into kisses and most nights were completed by an eternity of hazy lovemaking.
Slurred 'I love you's were repeated from both of you as pure pleasure built up inside you.
Coming undone together was a phenomenon both of you had mastered, chests heaving against each other as your breathing mingled, followed by soft laugher from the both of you at how amazing this was every single time.
"I love you so much."
"I love you more."
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retromafia · 6 months ago
“A Drink or Two” – Part I (Tommy Shelby x Reader)
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SUMMARY: Tommy, Arthur and John are causing trouble at The Garrison so you decide to make a scene and give your husband and his brothers a lecture.
REQUEST: “Tommy’s wife is really mad like very MAD (shouting, swearing, throwing things, all that makes her very scary) about how the boys handle things especially Tommy and the boys are very highkey scared of her. She doesn’t take shit from any of them so she makes them help Harry clean up The Garrison and make Tommy sleep on the couch”  – @missroro​
AUTHOR’S NOTE: I hope I didn’t disappoint! 🥺 I loved writing this story because Season One Tommy is like my favourite to write – especially with a wife Reader 🥰
WARNING: English is my second language.
You were waiting for your husband to come back home. It was late already, around 11 p.m., but you knew that tonight wasn’t one of the “business nights”. He just went out for a drink or two with his brothers and The Garrison would be closed soon anyway.
At least Tommy you had known before the war would “go out for a drink or two”. These days, you weren’t so sure about that.
You were sitting by the dressing table, brushing your hair nonchalantly and waiting. But waiting for  what? It suddenly hit you that there was no point of waiting. Unless you were waiting for a miracle.
Your husband would come back home so drunk he’d fall asleep right away or soaking in someone else’s blood which would force you to run him a bath. These days there was no other possibility.
You put the brush away angrily and stood up, reaching for a cigarette.
“Fucking cunt”, you mumbled to yourself and lighted it up.
Someone knocked upon your door. You furrowed your brows and walked downstairs.
“Forgot your keys, asshole?!”, you opened the door rapidly, but it wasn’t Thomas standing in front of you.
It was Scottie – Harry’s twelve years old son. And he looked quite terrified.
“What happened, Scottie?”, your voice softened as you took a drag of your cigarette.
“It’s… It’s… It’s John, Arthur and Tommy! They’re fighting again. Dad’s worried, he should be closing and… I’m really sorry, but you’re the only person who can help… I didn’t want to wake Mrs. Gray up...”, he was taking deep breaths between each sentence.
“For fuck’s sake”, you rolled your eyes and grabbed your coat before leaving the house, “Let’s go!”, you clenched your jaw and followed the boy.
The noise coming out of The Garrison was pretty awful. But you weren’t scared. They should be because you were angry and frustrated for days now and it was the good opportunity to finally let it all out.
Scottie opened the door in front of you and the very first thing you saw was a fight. Arthur was kicking one man lying on the floor while John and Tommy were cutting three more. Other men were cheering loudly and even making bets between each other who would win. Harry was standing behind the bar with his eyes widened and his hands on his head. He hated to watch his pub getting devastated.
“That’s enough!”, you yelled and Scottie ran away immediately to hide behind his father.
Everything went silent for a moment and every man in the pub laid his eyes on you. Oh, they looked disgusting… And they smelled so bad that you felt like vomiting.
“Oi, go back home, stupid woman”, some man mumbled out drunkly.
“The fuck did you say?”, your husband drawled out and grabbed him by his hair to smack his face on the counter.
The fight broke out once again, leaving you speechless. You couldn’t fucking believe that.
You felt sorry for Harry and his pub, but there was only one thing you could do at that moment and you knew that Harry wouldn’t be angry about it because it would work. You reached for the small revolver in your coat’s pocket and shoot the ceiling.
“I said it’s fucking enough!”, you repeated.
This time their disgusting faces held different expression – their eyes were widened and jaws dropped out of shock and perhaps a bit of fear.
“Everybody go home! It’s closing time”, you drawled out, “Each one of you. Back to your wives or mummies. Now”, you ordered.
“I’m sorry Mrs. Shelby, I’m usually not like that, it’s me friends, they...”, one of the men started to nervously explain himself in front of you like you were his teacher. That made you laugh.
“What makes you think that I care? I don’t even want to look at you”, you snorted at him and he looked down ashamed.
The men started to walk out of the pub slowly, with their heads lowered down. Some of them muttered “Good night, Mrs. Shelby” on their way out. Some avoided your gaze and tried to be as far away as possible from you and your revolver.
Arthur grinned and finished his drink when he was about to walk outside as well.
“Uh-huh. Not you”, you pointed your gun at him and then at John, “Not you either”, you gave him a stern look before finally lying your eyes on Tommy, “And especially not you”
Arthur raised his hands up like he was giving up and you waited for the others to leave The Garrison.
“Alright”, you put the gun on the counter when you were left alone with your husband, brothers-in-law, Harry and his son, “What the fuck was that?”, you asked in a stern voice.
You and Polly were the only women in the family since Martha had died and Ada was still a child in your eyes. Polly was like a mother to Arthur, John and Tommy. You were the  wife.
“What do you mean, (Y/N), come on!”, John rolled his eyes playfully, “Just a casual evening at The Garrison, am I right, eh, Harry?”, he looked at the man.
Harry didn’t look amused.
“Shut the fuck up, John”, you spat out, “I’m fucking done with all of you”, you looked at all the brothers, “Who started a fight? I bet it was you”, you pointed your finger at Arthur.
“Oh, uhm...”, he mumbled and blushed.
“I fucking knew it, you twat”, you clenched your jaw, “And you?”, you looked at Tommy, “I’m more than disappointed. I’ve thought that you were smarter than that”
“I joined John to help him, I didn’t want them to kill me brother, (Y/N)…”, your husband started.
“Shut up”, you interrupted him, “I’m fucking talking, not you”
“You asked”
“Oh, did I? Since when do you listen to me?”
“Woah”, John chuckled.
“If I were you, I wouldn’t be so fucking cocky, love”, you approached him and slapped his face, “Look at yourself! You’ve got four kids without a mother at home and you’re spending your evening getting drunk and cutting men on the floor of the local pub! Aren’t you ashamed?!”
John didn’t say anything. He started to rub his cheek and looked down.
“And you, Arthur? When will you fucking realize that starting fights like this doesn’t make you powerful or respected?”, you hissed, “Talking to you, too, cunt”, you turned around to face your husband.
“What did you call me?”, he got angry.
“Listen here...”, Tommy started.
“No, you listen here! All of you. You’ll help Harry clean up the place, you hear me?”, you raised an eyebrow and crossed your arms.
“No, Mrs. Shelby, that’s unnecessary, really”, Harry assured you nervously.
“No, Harry, no problem. Am I right, boys?”, you looked at your husband and his brothers with a threatening look on your face.
“Yeah, no problem...”, Arthur mumbled first and lowered himself to pick some bottles up.
“John?”, you raised an eyebrow at the youngest one.
“I guess...”, he kept rubbing his cheek and crouched down to help Arthur.
“Oh, stop playing a victim, I haven’t slapped you that hard”, you rolled your eyes at him and laid your eyes on your husband. He was standing there with his jaw clenched, “What about you, stubborn donkey?”
“I’m not doing anything until you apologise to me”, Tommy stated.
“What for? For calling you a cunt?”, you snorted.
“I won’t let me wife disrespect me like that in front of other people”
“And when we’re alone? Will you let me then?”, you teased, “Thomas, I’m being serious. Help to clean up the place”, you pursed your lips.
He eventually turned around and started collecting empty glasses from the tables. You smiled to yourself and leaned on the counter. Harry widened his eyes at you.
“Th-thank you, Mrs. Shelby”
“Oh, not a big deal. I’m sorry about the bullethole in the ceiling, though”, you chuckled.
“Ah, that… That’s not a big deal”, he assured, “I’m sorry that Scottie woke you up… I didn’t know what to do”
“He didn’t wake me up. Right, Scottie?”, you smiled at his son and he nodded his head, still a bit scared, “I’ve been waiting for me husband, all dolled up”, you said loud enough for Tommy to hear. He turned his head around and raised an eyebrow at you, but you looked away, “But some men are not worth the effort”, you sighed ostentatiously.
“Would you like to drink something, Mrs. Shelby?”, Harry offered, “On the house, of course”
“Some sweet liquor, please”, you nodded your head.
Twenty minutes later The Garrison was quite cleaned up and you finally left the pub.
“John, Arthur… Go home. Straight home”, you ordered them, “You hear me?”
“Yes, (Y/N)”, Arthur mumbled.
“And don’t make any fucking noise”
“Sure, sure”, John nodded his head.
“Good night, twats”
“Good night, love”, John winked at you and you watched him and Arthur walk the other way.
“Let’s go”, you snapped at Tommy and started walking towards your house.
“(Y/N), wait...”, he followed you, “Love, listen, don’t be angry at me. I didn’t start this fight, I swear, I just wanted to help John… Why can’t you believe me?”
“Because it doesn’t matter! It’s not only about today!”, you yelled at him, “Perhaps you didn’t start a fight today, but I’ve seen you starting fights before! I’ve seen enough Thomas. Enough not to trust you when you give me excuses like this”
“Love, come on…”
“I’ve been waiting for you! Like a fool!”, you kept screaming, “Wanted to spend a nice evening with me husband! Seems like I’m constantly waiting. Like me whole fucking life is just waiting for you. Four years, Thomas! Four years of waiting and what for?! For this?! Is this a man that’s supposed to be me husband?!”, you drawled out and opened the door to your house before walking inside.
“What are you suggesting?!”, he widened his eyes and closed the door behind him, “That I should have fucking died there in France, eh?!”
“No! Don’t put words in my mouth!”, you took your coat off and hang it, “What I’m saying is that I rarely see you, Thomas. What do you think I need a husband for? You’re not even home for dinners anymore”, you pointed your finger at him, “And I miss having you around”
“I’m sorry”, he softened suddenly and whispered before putting his hands on your waist. He was still slightly drunk, “I’m sorry, love...”
“I don’t care for words, Tommy”, you tried to push him away.
“It was so hot, you know? You bossing us around at The Garrison”, he kept whispering and leaned in, trying to place a kiss on your lips, but you turned your head away, “Oh come on… I’m not angry at that cunt anymore. I know you’ve been waiting all dolled up, so...”
“No”, you finally pushed him away successfully and he widened his eyes at you, “Don’t even think about it. For a long, long time, Thomas”
“(Y/N)...”, he whined.
“Also”, you rushed upstairs to throw one pillow and a blanket down the stairs, “You’re sleeping on the couch”
“But just for tonight, right?”, he asked and made puppy eyes at you.
You sighed at him and shook your head in disbelief. You wanted to be more angry at him, you really did. You wanted to yell at him: “No, for  forever!”. But you just couldn’t…
“I don’t know yet”, you shrugged your arms, “We’ll see tomorrow. Good night, Thomas”
“Good night”, he mumbled and picked his pillow and a blanket up from the floor.
You smiled to yourself and closed the door to your bedroom.
940 notes · View notes
angelamajiki · 8 months ago
[ peace treaty - kiribaku ]
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AN: this is a fantasy au piece, enjoy! :)
CW: yandere, dubcon, arranged marriage, stalking, coercion, dragon/animal anatomy, fantasy au, afab terms, predator/prey dynamics, size difference, facesitting
“A mate, huh?” Katsuki chuckled as he stroked his companion’s horns, looking into the horizon thoughtfully.
“Think about it! We need hatchlings to lead the future generations of the Bakugo clan.” Eijirou pleaded with his mate. “Don't you ever miss the company of a woman? I know I do.”
Adding a woman to their pack would certainly bring its advantages. It would undoubtedly strengthen their positions as clan rulers if they were to have a wife and children to carry on both men’s legacy.
“Fine,” Katsuki conceded. “Let’s go find a mate then.”
The pair returned to their respective forms, wolf and dragon, as they began their hunt through the wild countryside for their new mate. Days of running down the mountainous forests away from their clan, they settled on resting at the edge of the woods, looking at a clearing just over a shimmering river that separated the two territories. Beyond the meadow was a small fortress surrounded by the community that they presumably controlled—a perfect place to start their search after some well-needed sleep.
Katsuki was the first to awaken from his slumber at the sound of a woman’s voice. And a heavenly voice it was, signing an alluring melody. Peaking his head over the bushes, the young prince saw the enchanting woman bathing alone in the stream. The other man had awoken as well, just as equally entranced by the naked dancing woman.
“A vixen...” Katsuki murmured, twisting to look at his mate. It was clear to both men that she was the mate they were looking for. Independent, vexing, sweet. She was perfect.
“Let’s snatch her up now while she’s distracted, ” Eijirou grumbled impatiently, eager to take her back to their den at once.
“Patience, Ei. I want her too, but now is not the moment to strike. Let's watch her a bit more; she needs to be more than a pretty face, you know that.”
Katsuki did not doubt that she wasn’t their perfect match, but he is a predator to her before he’s a man to her at this moment.
The blissfully unaware maiden that you were, you went on with bathing peacefully in the warm, summer day. Your attendants had followed you from the castle, watching from afar as they knew you valued your time alone in the stream. After some time, one of them called for you back to the castle for supper. Dried and dressed, the group of you departed from the meadow by horse as the sunset.
“So, she’s a princess, Katsuki.” Eijirou’s tail trashed with excitement. “If we marry her, we’ll get this territory too! Oh, I wonder if she likes to travel..” The red-haired man went off on a tangent about his many fantasies for you while the blonde thought deeply. This was almost too perfect; he had just the plan to corner and ensnare their lovely little prey.
The men stayed at the edge of their territory, for the time being, glad to notice that you had returned to the riverbank almost daily. Sometimes you took your handmaidens; sometimes, you came alone while they trailed back.
They learned that you liked to flip through many a book while basking in the sunlight. A library would be a perfect wedding present for you-they intended to spoil you thoroughly with the dragon’s hoard.
Five days had proven to be enough time for the men to watch you and returned to their clan to make the necessary preparations for your place as their lovely spoiled mate.
A fortnight later, a letter from the young prince arrived at your doorstep, addressed to your father, the king.
“An alliance? With the barbarian tribe, that’s unheard of, father. Are you sure it’s not some trick?” You doubted, finding it difficult to understand his request. The barbarian clan was...mysterious, to say the least. Living up in the mountains beyond the river, they were a solitary bunch who were ruthless and never exhibited mercy towards their foes. Not much was know about them because they simply never made alliances or held diplomacy with other clans or kingdoms.
“Perhaps they wish to make allies with the next closest kingdom, my dear.” Your father spoke quietly, his voice wavering as he avoided your eyes. “You’ll go up the mountains to discuss the terms with young Bakugo. An older gentleman like me is not suited for those kinds of traveling conditions.”
Nodding solemnly, preparations were made for your immediate departure. All of your belongings were brought to your carriage, something that struck you as rather odd. Although father did say something about the uncertainty of the amount of time you would spend with the barbarians for the sake of discussion.
With that in mind, you set off into the forest just as the sunset.
The journey had taken nearly five days through the rain and snow, your small carriage trudging up the mountainside to the den of the barbarians. As your carriage came to a stop, two men helped you out and down, both possessing a tenderness that didn’t seem possible for them. The blond was bare-chested, even in the snow! He stood at about six feet and had a body that seemed the gods themselves sculpted it.
“Welcome to my clan, your majesty.”
His smirk was wolf-like, eyes bearing down on you like a predator who has caught his unwitting prey. “Come, let’s get you inside to warmth and comfort. I'm sure you’ve had a long journey. Eijirou here will help with your belongings and join us after you rest.”
The prince held out his arm for you to take as the red-head beside you gave a toothy grin before setting off to work. He...he was something more than a man, he had to be! Standing at well over six and a half feet, he was much more muscular than the blonde; Eijirou airs about him more than human. It was inexplicable.
Katsuki gave a gentle tug to your arm before ushering you to the massive tent that stood in the middle of the community of barbarians who looked onto you with glowing pride. What an odd bunch of people, but you couldn't very well judge them now, could you? They simply had a different culture, another way of life.
The tent seemed larger than life on the inside and was impossibly warm. It had had a large bed adorned with piles of pelts and furs near a roaring fireplace. Many bookshelves lined the walls, as well as prized kills and weaponry were displayed. Katsuki led you to a table near the warmth of the fire. How-
“Magic, princess. I am fortunate enough to possess it, as well as many of my clansmen.” Katsuki boasted, clearly prideful of his abilities. He could only hope it impressed you, which it certainly did. “It keeps us warm up here in the dead of winter, which is soon approaching. It protects us, provides for us, all of which it will do for you too.”
Your smile could hardly be contained as you gazed upon the handsome man with wonder. For you, too? Would this he be so kind as to lend you its strength while you struck a deal with them? The barbarians were indeed nothing like the fairytales you had heard about them.
“I thank you for your hospitality, Sir Bakugo. I am truly humbled to be here with you.”
“Call me Katsuki, little one. We should grow familiar with each other before our wedding.”
His wolfish smirk grew wider as he saw the look on your face. Ah, he so loved that look of feeble innocence and confusion on your expression.
“Oh, did your father not tell you?” he chuckled, taking a sip from his cup. “This is an alliance through our union. Suppose you’ll have us, of course. Otherwise, we might have to resort to other means down the mountain.”
Us? Oh, he means-
“Ei, don’t be shy and stand in the doorway. Come greet your bride properly.”
Thundering footsteps came from behind your seated form as Eijirou towered over your much smaller frame.
“Please, tell me you agree to us, my love. We've waited so long for your arrival, won't you let us have you?” A scarred but gentle hand enveloped yours as the dragon shifter kissed it tenderly. “There’s no need to be frightened; we intend to treat you like our queen and spoil you rotten with all the world’s riches. Grant us your blessing.”
How could you deny them? Your kingdom was in danger, yet these men, they lulled you into such a state of comfort and safety. Perhaps it was the magic at work?
“Please, may I think on it?” Your heart battered against your ribcage with fear and excitement. Two men, both for husbands. What a strange culture indeed.
“Only if you let us have you tonight. Give us a chance to prove our worth as not only husbands but as men to you.”
Blood rushed to your face, heating your cheeks as you felt aflame with shame, and to your horror, arousal. They are seasoned men. Indeed they’ll treat you as gently as they have been the whole time?
“O-Only if you are gentle with me. I am...inexperienced.”
That was all the approval they needed. Eijirou, still behind you, swept you up in his arms and onto the bed. Wanting to show some display of his true strength, he ripped your gown clean off your body. Whimpering, your hand flew to grip his forearm fearfully. “Gentle, please, gentle.”
Eijirou shushed you softly, placing a sweet kiss on your trembling lips, hands beginning to wander to down your sides and to your sex. Stroking your clit in small circles, the men relished in your little whines and moans.
“I think I should give you a taste, huh? I haven't eaten all day.” He purred as he dipped down to press kisses to your lips before diving in with his hot tongue, lapping your clit.
Katsuki’s searing kiss swallowed wanton moans and cries. Eijriou’s hands kept your squirming hips firmly in place, positioning you to sit on his face while the blond continued to lay passionate kisses on your lips, neck, and chest.
Teeth sunk into your neck as the prince wasted no time in marking up his newfound territory. Your cries heightened in pitch as you gripped red hair, calling out Eijirou’s name as you came from his overwhelming sucking and slurping of your juices.
“N-no more! Please, that's enough!” Whining, you began to shake when his tongue barely came to half after your cries. Panting and writhing, you peeled off his tongue and laid on the furs next to Katsuki.
“I think that’s enough for this evening; poor thing is already exhausted.” Katsuki chuckled as he dabbed the sweat off your brow and cleaned in between your legs.
“We’ll build up your stamina and be sure to stretch you gently daily.” Eijirou quipped as he took his place next to your side. Up close, you could see how different he really was. Red iridescent scales trailed on his sideburns and h
shoulders. Absentmindedly, you stroke them and wondered if there were more.
“After all, it’s customary to lose your virginity on the wedding night, so need to rush you in right now. Have you made your decision, given Ei’s stellar performance?”
Letting sleep overtake you, your head nodded gently as he rested on Eijirou’s shoulder. The hunt was over and the men could not be more happy with their choice.
1K notes · View notes
kkusuka · 9 months ago
Haikyuu kinks setter eddition <33
here is the ace eddition 
here is the Middle blocker version
Includes: Kageyama Tobio, Oikawa Tooru, Sugawara Koshi, Atsumu Miya, Semi Eita, Shirabu Kenjiro, Kanji Koganegawa, Akaashi Keji, Kenma Kozume,  Yahaba Shigeru and  Keishin Ukai
Cw: pet play, degradation, humiliation, cock warming, cuckolding, bare baking, public sex, photography,   (those are the more serious one, every thing else should be fine <3) 
and here we go!
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oh he is so pretty
Kageyama Tobio
It goes both ways too
He could append the rest of his life in between your thighs and that’s that
But that would mean missing the slice of heaven you give him when you go down on him
And he doesn't think he could live without that, you're just that good 
Little secret for you : he will literally be putty in your hands if you suck his balls, it will literally send him into outer space 
Vanilla sex
He just likes to be in love with you 
It's his awkward version of love making, but he’ll burn up if you call it that
Just looking you in the eyes and softly thrusting in you 
Holding your hand 
Soft kisses and whispers of love 
AWWW he’s so soft for you.
This is really only foe when he wants to have sex
But also wants to watch old tapes of volleyball games
Normally tricks you into it, he’ll say he wants to fuck on the couch, y’all start to do it and he just stops gets you on his lap and watches
You don't like that too much
But when he harshly thrusts up everytime you whine telling you he won't let you cu for a week
Then you start to behave
But no worries he’ll eventually let you grind on him like whore, and he’ll play with your nipples until you've came
Your still not moving tho
Sensory deprivation 
This is a control tactic 
He goes all you for this
When he wants control he gets it 
The most common thing when this side of Kags comes out is having you kneel on the floor
Well kneeling with your legs tied in the position, your arms tied behind your back
with earmuffs and a blindfold
With a vibrator torturing your poor hole. 
Oh! And either a spider gag or a ball gag!
It's just you and never ending pleasure until he wants to indulge <3
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(look at him walking, he does it so well) 
Oikawa Tooru
Public sex & Humiliation
Specifically riding 
Sitting you on his lap and pretending nothing is going on, while he’s really 8 inches deep
He’ll make you reach down and folder his ball to help HIM get off, for you? Well i guess you’ll just have to bounce a bit now wont you!
Knowing that to everyone else you two just look like a regular couple enjoying a bowl of ramen makes him love defiling you in public even more. 
Aw. Are you embarrassed? You can’t be that ashamed if your fucking yourself on me
You never know how far he will take it either
One time when you were at dinner with Tooru and some of his friends, he had sat you in his lap and spread your legs for them to see
You were so embarrassed, even more when he started cooing in your ear about how much of a show whore you were
You couldn't look his friends in theirs eyes for a few hours
Gangbangs/ Cuckolding 
You already know he believes in sharing is caring!
And he sure knows how to share!
You're just too perfect to not share with Makki, Mattsun, and Iwa!
And have you seen his friends, you’d like to give it a try
And he practically begged you to do it, and you can't deny a pretty boys puppy dog eyes
No one can deny the puppy dog  eyes
He never thought anything could beat the feeling of being on the court, but seeing you trying to fit Mattun in your weeping hole and deepthroating iwa may just do the trick
Watching his friends fuck you may just be his favorite pass time
Cum eating 
H e  i s  a  w h o r e 
He tries to tell you it's to make you “clean” 
Yup, he sucks all of his friends cum out of you to make sure you're all his. 
Oh! Sometimes Iwa will cum in your mouth and make Tooru make out with you until all the cum is gone between the two of you!
This is practically in all aspects of life
But when hes fucking you he wants to hear how amazing he’s making you feel
Yeah, his dick hits that perfect spot doesn't it? 
He wants to hear it
He wants to hear EVERYTHING 
His hips feel good against your thighs? Say it and loudly too!
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Sugawara Koshi
Slight pet play
He really just wants someone to take care of
And what better way to do that then have his puppy by his side. 
And it keeps him grounded
He’ll be all frustrated then he just looks at you
On your knees looking back up at him
And all of a sudden everything is ok again. 
Body worship 
Mostly from him to you
He just thinks you are so perfect
Sometimes he just wants you to stirp so he can spend hours just exploring your body
He’ll lay you down and just tell you how beautiful you are over and over
When he’s in a caring mood everything he does will be accompanied with a sweet compliment 
Just let him do his thing <3
We saw this coming 
Suga-momma will do anything for you
Had a bad day, ok he’ll let you use his cock to get off
You’ll feel better. 
But, this is everyday life too
He sometimes helps dress you up.
He packs your lunch for work,  always with a little note expressing his love for you
He just loves to know that you are comfortable and that you feel loved by him all the time. 
Slight medical / doctor 
I just feel like he wants you to be “healthy” 
He’ll have a whole set up too
He’ll strap your legs up and “examine” his baby
And once he is sure all is well, 
He’ll just fuck you then and there
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if only he were real
Atsumu Miya
Dirty talk / Degradation 
This is literally cannon-
He calls you all the names in to book
The favorite? He can't bring himself to choose 
They all have different tones!
He does like to use “Cocksleve” more than often!
If you didnt know any better you would truly believe that he only thinks of you as a hole to fuck. 
“ yes, clench just like that Cum-rag, you're too good at this”
“God, you’re hole loves my cock, i should just keep you here and fuck you or the rest of your life, leave you dripping in my cum all day and night” 
He just LOVES doing this act
"Are you my slut?"
"Tell me you're my slut"
"I'm your slut"
"Say it again"
"I'm your slut"
He could live just hearing that everyday (not really but he says it to show how happy he is-) 
A built in ego boost
He loves seeing you messy and  begging
He doesn't even listen to what you're begging. More? Stop? 
Yeah well he doesn't listen anyway, he’ll do it until he wants to stop
Just hold your legs up, let him see your slutty hole and let him work
He’ll make you feel good, he always does :)
You just look so goddamn pretty
He literally makes you cry to get to comfort you
As in comfort i mean fuck you to sleep
He doesn't do it that often but he always makes it worth it when he does
Is it bad that he likes to have you sob on his dick?
He’s not a monster tho!
Your consent is key!
(we stan a king) 
Pet play 
He has a full leash for you
But when he feel especially cold he makes you eat on the floor 
And out of a bowl :(
But only when he’s in a seriously bad mood, but just having you listen to him so weak makes him feel so much better!
Just let him indulge in this, it makes him feel better that he’s in control 
Extra little thing for tsumu
He records you two 
He doesn't even bother to put them in a hidden folder either
They are just in between all the regular pictures
AND he screenshots your  your nudes, prints some of them out and tapes them to his wall
Samu thinks you look very nice :)
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he his the meaning of pretty
Akaashi Keji
He loves to have you rides dildo in front of him
Or he’ll have a bullet vibrator in you while grocery shopping.
He plugs you up anytime he’s not in you. 
You can bet that if he’s not fucking you you're either fucking yourself, or being fucked by a little machine
And there is a method to his madness
But he will never tell you
He does all of this to see you, he likes to watch you and all your faces
You just look so adorable clenching your eyes shut and blabbering about nothing 
He just like basking in your beauty  
Oh he is so precious (and so are you) 
Light bondage 
He really only does this to show control
He can't let you get too full of yourself now
You’re still all his.
And he’ll put you in your place any second
He gives you control, and you need to play by the rules
If not. He’ll just tie you up and not look at you for as long as he see fits
You should’ve just listened to him
Akaashi is constantly working!
Sometimes he just wants you near him when he gets his work done
You’re also a calming factor to him
Sometimes he get so stressed and can only respond to it by thrusting into you a few times and kissing hickeys into your neck
But after the first time, he fell in love with it!
Watching a movie? 
He wants to be in you
But he’ll hug you close and press you against him, and he’ll cuddle into you
You guys have even fallen asleep while doing it
(oh to fall asleep while cockwarming Akaashi) 
Again, he works so much
And sometimes he just doesn’t have the energy to fuck you :(
Well thankfully, he has a best friend who is always very pent up and ready to fuck!
He could tell you weren't sure at first but after him reassuring it was fine and being non-stop fucked for 3 hours by a professional volleyball player
He could tell you liked it. 
So, when he feels like he won't make you feel as good as he can, Bokuto is already on the phone walking out of his apartment!
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like a little potted plant
Kenma Kozume
Gamer boy wants you as close to you for as long as possible. 
Sometimes he resents that he streams because he can't have you on his dick
You also help to manage his game ginger
When you're there he doesn't yell as much or throw is controller 
Instead he places the remote down, he takes a deep breath and hugs you
He’s like a cat when he gets like this
He’ll be nestled in your neck- practically purring
Before continuing his game.. 
In simple terms 
He likes watching Kuroo fuck you
Like he REALLY likes seeing Kuroo dick you down
We all know he’s not the confrontational type, so when you’re being bad, his only opinion is to call his best friend
He cat tell you like it too because you take any chance you can to act up
But he always makes sure they you know your all his before the end of the night. 
Being someone whose life revolves around social media 
It is absolutely no surprise that he likes to have visal pieces of you to take with him wherever he goes. 
 He specifically likes mirror nudes, with those cat ear thigh highs that he got you.
You remember one time he went on a trip to another city and asked you to send him some stuff
And in return he sent a little video of him jacking off, and thus it became a tradition every time you were away from the other. 
Slight Pet play
Mostly leashes collars and pet names. 
he does not take it that far,but he likes to know his kitten listens to him.  
The worst it got was when he put a dog leash on you and walked you around the apartment when Kuroo was over
You did receive the teasing of your life but good kittens don't speak
And you oh so desperately wanted to be a good Kitten for Kenma. 
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Semi Eita
Under the influence 
You and I both know this man smokes-
And smoking just happens to make him horny
Like really horny
And if you're there next to him he’s not gonna jack off??
You guys have sex almost every time he smoke
And when you smoke? 
Oh he just cant help himself, you look so pretty eyes glazed over 
He’ll make you say so so much better. 
He has a folder on his computer
And another on his phone
And all saved to his cloud
Of what? 
Videos of you fucking
And a select few of sucking his dick
And what does he do with all of these? 
He watches them, sometimes with you in the room
Like you too are hanging out and suddenly he’s on his computer watching you bounce on his dick. 
Clearly he likes to have you naked on a screen somewhere
And when he’s in public he can't exactly start watching homemade porn
so , he has a solution!
Make you send as many nudes as you can before he has to go out!
He has no shame for it either
One of your more “artistic” photos became his lockscreen
Which you begged him to remove considering his bandmates had begun to make comments about it. 
Hair pulling 
He does it all the time
And he does it  so hard too
Every time he hits from behind
His hand is on your head and already pulling 
Or when you suck him off
I'll pull your hair up, then push your whole head back down 
And repeat. 
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oh my god i am in love with him
Shirabu Kenjiro
This man has a mouth
And a mean one 
AND a killer attitude
And he spares you none of that. 
He ridicules and demands, dehumanizes, and you love it
“Admit you’re just a whore, getting off on being a hole. Disgusting” 
Over the weekends, why you have nothing to do, he makes you stay around the house completely naked 
“You're flaunting all you have like a prostitute, that's what you want right? O be used like a street whore?” 
He’s just a mean guy :p
It just makes sense at this point
He really likes to makes you take off your panties when you wear skirts in public
Then he likes to have you bend down and grab things for him
He’ll have you sit, man spreading, but the catch is there is a huge hole in your pants, so anyone at the right angle can see everything. 
Of course none of this goes without witty comments and insults from bang boy. 
He loves having you weak in front of him
It’s a total power trip for him
Like everything the two of you do, it consist of you being a good whore and him being a big ole meanie
He’ll leave you tied up for hours with a fuck machine pounding your poor hole
Or hell have you with a spider gag in and he’ll make you grind into the floor
He’ll laugh at you 
Record you and he’s even sent videos of youtube some of his old teammates
This one time, he had you tied up to your bedpost and just left, he walked out of the room and you didn't even know how long it was until he came back. 
Pet play
You were mouthing off to him? Oh no they won't do
He pretty much uses it as leverage against you
Good pets so mouth off do they? 
No? What I thought.
Its a form of punishment mostly
Keeping you kneeling on the floor below him for hours while he studies
He makes you eat down there
And he’ll pet your head, but if you even think about leaning into it, he’ll stop 
He’s so mean :(
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bird boiiiii
Kanji Koganegawa
He’s a baby
A pretty baby, that anyone would like a chance to ruin. 
He probably didn't even know what is was and still agreed, but no he begs for it
And who are you to deny your baby? 
It was kinda hard at first considering he was so big, but you managed, and are very good at making him cum, like really really good. 
Hand kink 
He really just likes to see how much bigger his hands are 
He’ll grab your handd and thread your fingers together, your hands are just so soft, opposite of his
He also likes to stick his fingers in your mouth and likes when he gets to suck on yours. 
Ddlb / Dmlb
There is no explanation other then he’s baby
And he needs to be taken care of, before he dose something stupid 
And you love taking care of your overgrown baby :)
He’s all smiley and cute when you do!
How could you resist? 
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his grandpa is hotter but whatever 
you didnt see that.
Keishin Ukai
Public sex
In his store 
On the counter
Five Minutes before closing time 
It cannon
It's the risk factor for him, anyone can just walk in and see you fall apart on his cock
It's actually happened before, Shin wanted to do it and you agreed but didn't expect Takeda to waltz in and look directly at you. 
Yeah he immediately came then shoved you onto the floor to hide you from Ittetsu’s prying eyes
Daichi has also heard the two of you fucking in the gym storage closet, but chose not to say anything. 
It's like a primal urge to him
Condoms are annoying ang time consuming, you guys are gonna be together anyways might as well let him fill you like a good fuck toy
When he cums in you he also doesn't let you clean it out
He makes you stand there, face three inches away from your core, and watches his cum drip from you
Condoms won't let him do that, will they?
I mean he’s into fucking you in public, so this is pretty much a must at this point
He puts you in these positions so you have no choice but to be embarrassed
I mean what kind of slut like getting fucked in plain sight?
When you go out with him he makes you wear all these ridiculous outfits that practically show everything
And he makes fun of you when they look! 
Yes as in homemade porn
Why would he keep you all to himself?
Everyone deserves to experience that
And people love you!
If the thousands of comments and requests say anything about it!
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oh to do that to Maddog
Yahaba Shigeru
We all saw the scene with Maddog 
Come on, he’ll do that to anyone
I feel like he just likes seeing his hands around your neck. 
He likes how fail you are and how is ands just wrap around your neck
He knows where to squeeze too
He’ll hold your pressure point to the pint you think your gonna pass out
Light BDSM
Nothing to crazy, he likes having you tied up and ready that's all
Maybe eagle spread on the bed?
Or hell have you kneeling next to him, arms tied behind your back mouth ready and opened
The possibilities are endless
He likes his hands- 
But it's mostly about you
Seeing your hole up close
It sucking his fingers, like a good hole should
Plus he has better control with his fingers, so he hits all the good spots over and over until yout crying <3
1K notes · View notes
jangofctts · 9 months ago
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Thing for Trouble (boba fett x fem!reader x din djarin) (part one) (part two) (part three) (part four)
Rated: explicit 18+
word count: 7.6k
warnings: threesome, smut, thigh riding, oral female receiving, handjobs, unprotected sex (dont be a deadbeat, wrap that shCMEAT), light choking, throne fucking, vaginal fingering, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, creampies, pet names, sub? din? more likely than you think (also lmk if I missed any tags!)    
a/n: yall im sorry this is such garbage but kjkwejh here we be. I hOPE YOU ENJOY THE CIRCUS. thank you to everyone who’s encouraged this so COME GET YALLS MANDO MEAT  
There isn’t much when he it comes to Tatooine and fun things to do. There’s pod acing, drinking, Sabaac tourneys, more podracing, gambling and scavenging. Unless there’s a festival or some wild event, you’re stuck with boredom and whatever you can scrounge up for fun in the palace. 
Now, don’t get it wrong—if you had it your way, you’d spend every waking hour trialing behind Boba, but you don’t want to smother. Fennec too—while you enjoy her company, you know that half of the reason she sticks around is Boba’s order for your protection. Kinda ruins the fun when you know she probably only tolerates you because she’s being paid to. Eh whatever—doesn’t stop you from tagging along on as she runs errands in town—besides, today you actually have a reason to be here instead of loitering like a lost puppy. 
Fennec tells you to be safe and com her the second trouble rears its ugly head and disappears into the weapons shop—muttering about her prized rifle being jammed or something. You don’t know, all you hear is that you have the entire afternoon to yourself to hunt down your oh so elusive prize. Star cherries.    
The markets are always vibrant. Jam packed with people from each and every corner of the galaxy, hundreds of booths and stalls selling their wares that varies from foods to jewelry to even bounty services. Tempting as is it is to peruse the sparkly rows of dainty necklaces and rings or inspect the vast array of beige ponchos and manilla undershirts—you have a purpose. A once a year chance you refuse to let go to waste.   
The shabby booth is tucked near the end of the street, the mountain of the little red fruits looking comical compared to the withered old lady who sits beside them. She flashes you a gap-toothed smile, the crowfeet wrinkles surrounding her eyes scrunch with the movement. “Ah! I was wondering when you’d show, dear.” 
“Hello, Mrs. Feraan,” you greet, bending at the was it to kiss her wrinkly cheek. The old vender was one of the first kind souls you met here when you arrived on Tatooine. In return for a couple compliments or an offer to be the lab rat to test her new recipes for pie or tarts, she hooks you up with the best of the cherries—handpicked with love. “How’s business today?”
She waves her hand in dismissal, her silver rings glinting in the sun. “Same as always, child.”
Eventually you work your way through the pleasantries and a couple, long winded tangents. The sort that only old people can flawlessly spin and keep you engaged. Trials and tribulations to earn your prize—you don’t mind sacrificing a couple hours.
Finally you’re allowed to walk away—cherries in hand and exceedingly eager for your sweet snack. Unfortunately, suffering through Mrs. Feraan’s old childhood laments is not the only bump in the road you have to face.       
Granted, it is your fault—not looking where your feet are taking you—
Your temple crashes into something agonizingly hard. You swear you hear a quiet bonk when your skull collides with the mystery material and fucking hell—you probably have a concussion from the force of it. 
Unbothered by your probable brain injury, you’re far more concerned with the cherries spilling onto the ground and so, as you flail and dramatically topple over—the brunt of your fall is cushioned by your shoulder. Something pops and yeah, ok, maybe you just tore a ligament but—kriffing worth it for the cherries you miraculously saved from their dusty graves.     
Your temper flares as you spot the dirty brown boots pointed in your direction. Maneuvering yourself up so you don’t also get trampled by the crowd, you bare your teeth and put on your best impression of a terrifying force of nature despite the fact you’ve been knocked flat on your ass. “What the fuck—“
The words shrivel up and die upon your tongue as your eyes slide up the stranger’s legs, broad shoulders sporting the shiny armor that twinkles in the midday suns. They then settle on an all too familiar helmet. Well, sorta—you’re familiar with a certain red and green one, not the equivalent of a wearable disco ball.
You squint as the stranger’s head dips to look at you crumpled at his feet. You dust yourself off and point an accusing finger. “Fuck is your problem standing in the middle of the road?”
The stranger quirks their head. “You ran into me—maybe you should watch where you’re stepping.”
The raspy voice is a striking sound. Mellow and silky even as it passes through the vocoder and dresses it in static charm. Some of your anger melts away—maybe this is the friend Boba was talking about—it’d make sense. They’re wearing the same type of armor…  
You shake your head and shove down your pride. You don’t think Boba would appreciate you chewing his ear off. “Sorry—you’re right.”
As you readjust your clothes and precious cherries you introduce yourself with a tiny smile. Yet just as you're about to ask him his name he interjects with a step forward. You flinch away but all he does is sweep back a strand of hair from your forehead, revealing a little nick in the skin. You hiss as his fingertips scrape against it--great, an actual head wound. “Are you alright?”
Maker—here you are, after yelling at him and he finds it in him to be compassionate. You wave away his concerns. “Y-yeah--peachy.” 
He apologizes with a dip of his head and words soaked in regret and fuck--now you feel bad. You wrack through your brain and search for last ditch attempts to fix this little mishap and settle with a half baked idea. It’s dumb--but hey, if it works, it works.  
“Seriously, it’s fine. But I mean, if you’re so worried, how about you walk me home and we call it even?” You propose, sticking out your hand to seal the deal. If your assumptions are right, he’d just be tailing you the whole way home anyway. “I’m headed towards the palace, so if it’s not too much out of your way then—“
He hesitates and interrupts by taking your hand. “Alright. Deal.” 
You smile. “Lovely.” 
On the return trip, Din is quiet—tells you his name and responds to your conversation fillers with interested hums—but other than that he remains on the silent end. Intriguing with a rounded softness unlike the armor he wears--a man of mystery much like  a certain someone who awaits you back home. Well--Din is less grumpy--by a long shot...but still. It’s easy to spot some of their shared similarities.  
Upon arriving at the castle you part ways with Din before he reaches the throne room--you’re not too excited about showing off your new battle scar yet and while it was an accident, making an entrance with Din will make it far too easy to link the injury with him. Besides, you don’t wanna risk scaring off your new friend if Boba decides to showcase that tightly sealed lid of anger and brutality. 
Instead you take the long way around the palace. Soon, muffled voices carry through the long corridors, growing louder as you work your way back from the kitchens. You round the corner, catching glimpses of Boba and your new friend through the pillars that prop up the low ceiling. You don’t meant to spy, but you do so anyway, hesitant on interrupting.     
That is...until Boba cocks his head to the side and settles his eyes onto the pillar you hide behind. “It seems we have a little shadow with us today.” 
You suck in a breath as your heart skips in a thrumming pace. Boba addresses you by name and crooks his fingers in a lazy motion for you to step out into the light—revealing yourself to the small party of two. “Come here, little one.”
The low light catches off of Din’s helmet with a glittering sparkle when he swivels his head. The tiny, warped figure of yourself reflects in mirror-like pieces of smelted beskar as his shoulders pull tight with recognition. You bite the inside of your cheek to keep the smile that threatens to crack across your face at bay. Boba is no fool—he excels in the subtleties of shifting eyes and clenched fists to hide anxiety or closely guarded information—sickeningly familiar with your own quirks and tells, but—  
There’s no reason to reveal Din’s little secret—not yet. Boba called him a friend but you truly have no clue what the depths of that word entailed. Friend could mean anything from a casual acquaintance, to an old childhood bond, and or anything in between. You sigh and brush past him, mentally congratulating yourself for keeping a cool mask of indifference etched into your features. If Din wants to open that can of worms then so be it—you weren’t the one offering to walk random people home. 
You step onto the dais and slide your free hand into Boba’s outstretched palm. The worn leather tickles up your forearm and locks over your elbow, silently demanding you to sit on his lap. There’s plenty of room to both sit on the throne but no—Boba prefers you tucked against the cool metal of his cuirass. You grunt as the bowl of star cherries you cradle dangerously dips when Boba adjusts your weight over his thighs.  
His fingers pull back a strand of your hair, tucking it behind your ear and then spider along your jawline. The ends of his mouth quirk as Boba pinches your chin between his forefinger and thumb, capturing your undivided attention. “I don’t like it when you lurk in the shadows, little one. You’re allowed to listen.
You huff. “I know—but lurking is fun.”
Boba releases your chin with a scoff. “Foolish, girl.” You dip your chin with a sheepish grin as heat rushes to your cheeks. You briefly forget about the tiny nick adorning your right temple, the only thing you were trying to keep hidden—but Boba is all too quick to notice. “What is this?”
He pushes your hair out of the way of the cut, inspects it, then curls his fingers around your jaw to demand an answer. You refuse to let your eyes wander over to Din—what a dead giveaway that would be—and instead muster up enough courage to hold the weight of his stare. 
“I tripped at the markets,” you say—not a complete lie. “It’s just a little scratch—no biggie.”
Boba squints in suspicion and grumbles a soft hm. You feel his chest rise and fall with a deep sigh—he won’t argue about it right now. Not a battle worth his while when you’re keen on keeping the full truth behind a wall of teeth and anxieties. Boba’s hand falls away, gestures to Din who still stands stiffer than a stature, then lays it over the golden armrest. “I’m sure you’ve noticed our guest—“
Din tips his head in acknowledgement. 
“The rightful ruler of Mandalore,” Boba continues. “Din Djarin.” 
Din Djarin…despite already knowing his name (or half of it, at least) you like the way it rolls off the tongue—like how it’s seemingly made to be repeated and carved into the walls of some ancient script. Your knowledge on all things Mandalorian is…limited to say the least but you know enough about the rumors. 
“Isn’t Mandalore supposed to be haunted?” You don’t mean for your words to be a pointy jab to the ribs but regardless, it strikes a tender chord within the Mandalorian. You wince as Din shifts his weight and clenches his palm—a long story. “Sorry—I—I’m sure your home is lovely, all I know about it are dumb ghost stories about evil wizards and laser swords.” 
The blood under your cheeks burn red hot. Great. Not only are you a complete bantha brain, you’ve also managed to sound like an impudent child. Boba soothes a thumb over your thigh as you curl into yourself—bastard. He thinks this is funny.        
“It’s not my home,” Din responds, albeit tentatively. “Never been.”
Your brows furrow. Alrighty then.  
Boba snorts and shakes his head. He mutters something in Mando’a and lazily waves his hand, dismissing the line of conversation entirely. It was turning into a dumpster fire anyway—   
With a slow exhale, you remove yourself from the discussion and instead tuck your head under Boba’s chin. The beskar is cold against your cheek but it feels nice against the sweltering midday heat.  
Their conversation fades in and out as you rest your head over Boba’s cuirass, listlessly picking through the bowl of fruit for the ripest ones. You sigh—the next cherry you bring up to your lips is intercepted as Boba’s hand clamps around your wrist and redirects it into his own mouth. You don’t find it in you to be grumpy about the stolen treat when Boba’s tongue slides over your sticky fingers. Still holding your wrist captive, he sucks the tip of your thumb into the warm heat of his mouth and curls his tongue around the digit. Your index finger is given the same treatment before your hand is returned. The beginnings of arousal spark to life below your belly, and fuck—that shouldn’t have been so…so…hot. 
Din’s smoky baritone fades into background noise as the entirety of your attention zero’s in on Boba’s mouth. You purse your lips and suck in a shaky breath, then return your hand to the bowl to fish out another fruit. You don’t need any guidance this time around as you bring the cherry to his mouth—the crimson juice spilling down your palm and part of your arm as his teeth pierce the fragile skin. You breath hitches as Boba dips his head, catching the bead of liquid running down your arm with the tip of his tongue, then swiping s a slow trail up, and over the lines of your palm. He plants a careful kiss there, then breaks away. 
Before you have the chance to reach for another one, Boba plucks a cherry from the bowl and rests it against the seam of your lisp, inviting you to partake in this little game he’s created. A wicked smirk curls over his mouth as you accept—the tart flavor of the fruit spilling over your tastebuds as you chew and swallow. A little wine escapes you as his leather-clad thumb rolls over your bottom lip, bushes past the barrier of your teeth and seats the digit into your mouth—all the way down to the third knuckle. 
You hardly notice the moment Din’s voice tapers off into silence—much too enraptured with the taste of leather and the smooth feel of it over your tongue. You gag slightly when Boba’s thumb reaches the back of your throat, then retreats just as slow. The string of saliva that still connects the digit to your wet mouth, drips over your chin and part of your lip, eliciting a jagged, echoey breath that crackles through Din’s vocoder. 
Boba grins—something that better belongs on a sneering jackal just about to pounce on unsuspecting prey with needle sharp talons, rather than his face. His eyes drift up to address his guest. “Do you see something you like, Mand’alor?”
Din’s head jerks, averting his gaze to anywhere but the throne. He murmurs a weak apology and shifts his weight to his other leg—acting as if he were to look at you a second time, it’d burn him to a crisp or force him to confront Boba Fett’s wrath. Obviously, neither thing would happen, but Din still remains unsure with his foothold in this situation.   
“I see how you look at her,” Boba drawls—not an accusation, just a statement brought to light. Boba’s hand drops to your thigh, the warm weight of it resting just past your knee as Din swallows his nerves and returns his gaze. “It’s alright—a pretty little thing like her is bound to turn heads.” 
A blush hotter than wildfire licks up your cheeks as Din nods in agreement. “She’s beautiful…you’re a lucky man.”
Boba’s grip on your thigh hoards you closer to his chest. He is and he’s fully aware of that fact, but there’s no need to admit such a thing when it’s so blatantly obvious. A lull in the conversation creates a palpable tension—nervous energy and a choice to let this is fade into nonexistence or…or breathe life into that flickering ember of unsaid desires.     
Your heart leaps into your throat when Boba shatters the silence and addresses you. “You’re awfully quiet, princess…what do you think?”
He’s placing whatever this is into your hand and leaving you to call the shots. You’ve always been a troublemaker and there’s no will or way as to why you’d stop now. You look between your lover and Din as a smile curls over your face. “I think…if he’s so interested—why not give him a show? After all, he did bring me home—he deserves some reimbursement for the trouble.”
Boba’s shoulders jolt with a chuckle. “How chivalrous.” You shiver as he strokes the back of his finger down your cheek. “Fine, as you wish, little one—go play.” 
Giddy excitement bubbles through your chest as Boba offers Din to take a seat on the edge of the dais. Din still has an option to escape, to slip through the cracks and pretend this never happened—but stars, you hope he stays. Din takes a step forward, then another—and another until he’s standing before the throne. He studies the raised edge and gingerly takes a seat. 
You abandon your bowl of cherries onto the forearm of the throne and slip off Boba’s lap. You drift over to Din, his gloved fingers clenching and unclenching as they rest over his thigh plating. He’s purposefully avoiding your eye as you kneel beside him—still locked onto that niggling fear that this could be some sort of trick or test in resolve.      
Smiling sweetly, you skate your hand over his knuckles—guiding his large palm to your waist and then under and up your loose shirt and bra. Din mutters a curse as you place his palm over your breast. “I’m glad you stayed.”
Pleased with his reaction, you peel off your shirt and bra, breath hitching as Din pinches your nipple between his forefinger and thumb. “Same—I think…”
With a bit more bravery backing his movements, Din pulls away briefly, shucks off his gloves and encompasses both your breasts. They’re warm and calloused, riddled with silvery scars that stand out against his brown skin, a storybook of past battles—won and lost—all equally important to the fibers of his being that stitch him together into a whole. His hand whispers down the length of your ribcage, no doubt feeling the thrum of your heart beating wildly against the cartilage and bone. It tickles over the swell of your hips then—        
“You said you wanted to give him a show,” Boba drawls behind you, a sharp twinge of hostility lacing his words. “So enjoy the show, Mand’alor, ’nd keep your hands to yourself."
Din recoils at the verbal reprimand and drops his hands speedier than a flash of lightning. You frown and throw a glare over your shoulder. Bastard. Boba quirks a brow and runs his thumb over his lip, the edged sparkle in his dark eyes taunting you into challenging him. You huff and turn a cold shoulder. 
“Sorry, Din,” you purr, scrounging up any and all back up plans to keep you both entertained. “Seems my king isn’t as generous I thought.”
Din withers a bit at the catty remark, keeping his lips sealed tight as Boba growls your name in warning. You don’t pay him any mind. 
You puff up your cheeks and release the air in a steady stream, as your eyes scrape over Din’s armored thigh. Ok—you can work with that. It wouldn’t be breaking any rules…not technically. You step away, paw at your waistband and let the breezy fabric pool over around your ankles, your underwear quickly joining the pile. 
Now bare, you return to Din’s side, his careful inhale distorted into choppy static as you straddle his thigh. He lifts both hands, intending to grab at your waist, but pauses midair. No touching. You lips tilt with a smirk as he clenches his fists and pins his hands to the cool stone instead, an attempt to curb that urge to reach for you. His shoulders knit together when you mold your hand in the gap between his shoulder pauldron and cuirass to give yourself some sort of balance—obviously not used to a soft touch.  
You lower yourself and hiss through clenched teeth. It’s fucking freezing. Goosebumps rush up each limb as the wet warmth of your cunt meets the frigid beskar—the chill much colder than you initially expected. It’s one thing to touch the beskar with an open palm and another thing entirely to feel against such an intimate part of yourself. Din’s visor drops to look between your legs as you give your hips an experimental roll. 
It’s different. You’re used to hardened muscle and fabric, or your own fingers while pleasuring yourself. Your breath hitches as Din’s thigh twitches, the smelted seam of the cuisse bumping against your throbbing clit. 
“Sorry,” Din mumbles, “Didn’t mean—“
“It’s ok,” you smile, rocking your hips to ease into the sensation. “Just surprised me.”
The pace you set is slow, careful not to overwork your nerves as your arousal blooms and metastasizes like simmering coals low in your groin. With each lecherous pull of your cunt against his thigh, the beskar begins to warm to the temperature of your skin—the wetness between your thighs abating the friction and making the surface slippery. A low gasp escapes you once you find the right ridge and angle that just grinds perfectly against your aching clit. Your fingers dig into the cowl of Din’s cloak. 
“Shit—feels good.” Like your voice and little moans jumpstart Din’s ability to move, his large hand drifts to the front of his trousers—an already sizable bulge tenting the dark brown fabric. You squeak as Din's leg jolts for a second time, a burst of dizzying ecstasy wracking up your spine with the choppy movement. 
You suck in another raspy breath as your attention drops to his hand that cups his cock and palms himself through his trousers. You chew your bottom lip and clench your fist gripping his cowl, still gyrating your hips over the beska as Din hooks his thumb into his waistband and pulls them down, slow as molasses. 
Fucking hell—he’s bigger than you initially imagined. Flushed a rosy brown, and half hard already, twitching as Din wraps his fingers around the thick length. Din lifts his head, gauging your interest or disapproval—but kriff—who the fuck would ever be unhappy with that sorta heat he’s packing? You bite your bottom lip, scouring your brain for ideas to convince Boba into letting you taste Din—but your plotting is abruptly cut short. 
Boba sits up and off the throne, his presence looming over your shoulder as he lowers to one knee. You shiver and arch your neck, exposing more of your vulnerable throat as Boba runs the fingertip of his pointer finger down the side of your cheek. “Are you enjoying yourself, princess?”  
You nod, eyes fluttering shut as Boba opens his palm and cradles your jaw. You groan and roll your head back onto your shoulders as Boba snakes one hand around your hip and jolts you forward and down—disrupting the slow rock with a catastrophic interference. Unrefined bolts of plasma shoot up your spine as desire licks up thighs—you need more. 
Boba dips his head and nuzzles into the crook of your neck. You grunt when his teeth sink into your flesh, worrying a bruise into your skin. Boba laves his tongue over the throbbing area, then licks a wet trail up to the shell of your ear, all the while you continue to grind on Din’s thigh. Boba nibbles your earlobe and whispers your name—the sound sweeter than any symphony could ever hope to make. Like smoke over deep water or the surging crackle of energy just before a thunderstorm high up in the mountains. 
“You’re allowed to touch…” he says with a rough chuckle. “Go on.”
Your noise of agreement is quickly muffled as Boba interrupts you with a feverish kiss—all open mouthed and breathless as his tongue curls around yours. Your chest heaves for precious air as Boba retreats just as abruptly as it began. With a satisfied smirk ghosting over his lips, he taps you below the chin and returns to his throne to continue observing.         
Dropping your eyes between Din’s legs, his cock, hardened to its full glory and held casually in his  calloused hand, is truly a sight. Your pulse thrums in your ears as Din rolls his wrist and pumps his length, the velvety skin shifting over what looks like fucking beskar underneath. It strains towards his navel as you watch with wide eyes, mesmerized with the way he touches himself. 
Rolling your bottom lip between your teeth, you touch your hand to his wrist.  Din shudders like your skin is made of sizzling embers that’s broken off the tail end of shooting star—like you’re something too luminous and dangerous to be handled by someone like him. You lift your gaze, smiling into that darkened void of the visor and gracing him with a toothy smile. “Will you let me touch you, Din?”
He nods and utters a breathy yes. 
Fuck yeah.    
Din sucks in a stuttered breath when your hand circles around his thick length. His hips jolt into your palm as you slide your fist to the base then all the way back up. Precum beads over the tip, dribbling down and coating your knuckles with sticky wetness. It eases some of that friction as you fall into an easy rhythm, matching your rocking hips with each pump of his cock. 
Din’s stuttered moans fill the small space between you, dragging you closer to your release that’s suddenly so close. He whines as you abandon his length to chase after your high, your arousal leaking from your center and dripping down the sides of the beskar. Din takes his cock into his hands, fisting himself to your little show of breathy wines and rough jerking of your hips over his thigh. 
Din says your name attached with a broken moan and it’s over—    
Everything seizes up tighter than a jaw clamp as your tumble off that jagged peak of searing, white hot pleasure. It’s raw, sparking off like a blade to metal, burning you from the inside out as you cum. Your cunt clenches around nothing, your thighs shaking as you curl inward as if he punched you in the fucking gut. It feels like he did. Maker—the cool beskar against your throbbing clit is like you’ve been thrown to the mercies of an electrical surge. 
It doesn’t help either that Din is still pumping his length, hips stuttering as he brings himself to his own euphoric high. The air in your lungs seizes when a fragile groan, light and airy passes through the vocoder. Din rocks his hips into his fist, once—twice and then he’s throbbing and cumming into his hand. Hot ropes of his release splatter up his chest plate and parts of your thighs, his helmet nearly knocking into you as he hunches foreword from the intensity of it.     
Too exhausted to keep yourself upright, you smash your cheek against his cuirass, involuntarily twitching as the last little waves of pleasure prickle through the rest of your nerves. You whine as you watch Din move his hand to collect some of your wetness coating his thigh. He brings two fingers stained with your slick to the lip of his helmet, pushes it up with his thumb just far enough to sink the two digits into his mouth. He groans out a quiet fuck, and repeats the action, swiping his fingers through the mess you’ve made and feeding it to himself. Your cunt clenches as you catch a sliver of his pink tongue that twists between his thick fingers.   
He groans and rolls his head back onto his shoulders. “Please—can I taste you? Fuck—I-I need my mouth on you.” 
Stars—the mere idea of it stokes the dwindling flames into a blaze of want. You look up at Boba and puff out your bottom lip. Pouting and begging hardly ever gets you what you want under normal circumstances—Boba Fett is more stubborn than a rancor—but you hope just this once he’ll be lenient.   
Boba holds out his gloved hand—summoning you to his lap without a lick of protest on your end. Din however makes a sound akin to a whimper when you leave him. Boba gathers you in his arms for the second time, the leather a strange sensation as it spiders down your ribcage and around your hips. You can feel his hardness poking into your backside once you settle against him—his chest plate a cold shock to your naked flesh. You shiver and bury your nose into the crook of his neck, poking your tongue out to taste him. Boba’s cock twitches under you as your teeth sink into him with a cheeky nip.   
“Is that what you want, little one?” Boba rumbles in question. His right hand glides lower, grabbing a handful of your thigh and squeezing. You groan and keen out a whine of affirmation. 
Boba cocks his head towards Din. “Well? You’ve got your wish—don’t keep her waiting.” 
Din shakily stands—hesitating with removing his helmet for enough time that you notice the silence that follows. The vocoder crackles as Din sighs. “Do you trust her?”
“With my life.” Boba states it without a second thought. Your heart twists, golden light spilling from  your lungs and staining your insides with devotion and fuzzy affection. You press a soft kiss over Boba’s jaw.   
“Is she…” Din speaks a word in Mando’a you have no hope to decipher—either no direct translation or he’s purposefully left you in the dark. 
Based on the way Boba almost imperceptibly tenses, you guess the latter. Boba responds with a grunt and an unsure dip of the chin. The answer is complicated—that much you can gather…you push it to the back of you brain for now. 
Din nods, inhales, and steels his nerves. Plastering his hands around the shiny helmet, he tugs it off with a slow reveal of dark, patchy facial, plush lips and wavy brown hair that falls around his olive skin. And oh, his eyes—soft chestnut brown eyes that hold such ache within them—lost things, broken bones, wearing his wounds like decoration upon his chest. Forged in the flames of war, risen from the ashes with murder and mercy rolled into one.      
You wish him a kinder future. One that doesn’t end with pain and a blaze of an unchecked wildfire—the same way how all heroes end up as martyrs.  
Though—right now—you can be the beginning of softer things for Din. You smile and invite him closer, a vortex of anxiety peppered with arousal as his eyes flit over your naked body. He sets his helmet to the side with care and drifts to the foot of the throne—fuck, he’s broad. Why hadn’t you noticed that before?   
Your mental berating is severed when cool air meets the wet heat of your cunt as Boba hooks your thighs over his knees, spreading you wide as far as your hips allow. Din’s unfiltered moan at the sigh of you, sends a volt of electricity through every vein. Din lowers himself to one knee, and then the other, shuffling between yours and Boba’s legs. 
“Can I touch?” He asks, soft brows raising in question. 
Boba lazily raises two fingers in a motion of permission. Your chest tightens at the sight of Din’s boyish grin—warm palms settling over the sharp bend of your knees. His thumbs trace soothing circles over the skin and right as Din decides to swoop down, Boba catches him by the hair atop his head and yanks. Din grunts—the long, arched line of his neck a tempting sight as he swallows. “No marks.” Din’s jaw clenches, but nonetheless, he agrees to Boba’s command. 
Boba hums in satisfaction and untangles his fingers from the mess of Din’s soft curls. Din’s brows pinch together for half a tick but smooth out in the next breath. No use being irritated—especially right now.   
As directed, Din leaves not a scratch. Instead he scrapes the blunt edges of his teeth along the insides of your thighs, threatening to catch soft flesh between them—but he knows better than to act on the urge. He laves his warm tongue over each freckle or blemish he finds, leaving no patch of skin undiscovered as licks a steady trail to his prize. Din mouths a warm kiss over the crease of your thigh, and smooths his calloused hands over your hips, settling for a moment to trace little circles with his thumbs onto the soft protrusion of bone there. Seemingly satisfied, he then shifts them closer to your aching cunt. His hot breath fans over your cunt as he uses his thumbs to glide through your folds, almost curious with his exploration. He makes a little hum of appreciation low in his throat when the pads of his thumbs part your soaking folds.    
You whimper and bury your face into the crook of Boba’s neck, his warm palms a much needed comfort as they tickle down your ribcage, then sweep back up to cup your tits. You cry and arch— Din’s tongue is scalding—like liquid velvet as he dips the tip of his tongue from the base of your cunt all the way up to your clit. Din sucks on the little bundle of nerves, rolling his tongue until you’re crying out, molten pleasure zipping through your abdomen. He grunts as your fingers tangle into his hair—kriff. 
Fuck, you need more.   
Arching into his mouth, all thoughts are transfigured and molded into a vicious loop—beginning with those adoring brown eyes, the color of freshly tilled earth and the warmth of sunlight over dappled aspen leaves in the balmy summer afternoons. It ends with soft lips—rose petal pink with devotion crystallizing in his mouth like sugar—madness and uncertainty and lovesick desire is all that he is and you’re not sure if you’ll come out of this unscathed.    
He sinks two deliciously thick fingers into your clenching hole and curls them, only to retract them a moment later to shovel more of your wetness onto his tongue—as if simply using his mouth wasn’t enough for him. Like he needs to savor every drop of your arousal like the golden ambrosia the gods feast upon in their palaces of cloud and endless twilight. 
That frenzied desperation lingers on the edges of his movements like he’s afraid you’ll fade away like a hand through fog—but you’re going nowhere. You’d stay here, suspended in time forever if the choice were up to you. 
You whine and arch off Boba’s chest plate as Din strokes and curls his fingertips, plucking little gasps and moans from you easier than breathing. He zeros in on that little spot that makes your leg go all jittery and forces out high pitched mewls that echo through the throne room. You’re careening towards another high, the sensitivity of your last orgasm amping up the influx of pleasure. 
“Stars—Din. Close—I’m so close,” you gasp, pulling his hair tight enough that you know it must sting—at least a little bit. He makes no sign that it does, just groans and buries his tongue into your dripping hole, licking alongside his fingers that shovel more of your wetness into his mouth. 
Your release zips through your body like a flash flood—quick and fatal that leaves you gasping for air and struggling not to let your head dip below the waves. Your high seeps into each limb until they feel heavier than lead. Fuck—it’s so hard to work through the muddled thought and remember where exactly you are. You groan and toss your head back as Din keeps going.    
“Another one—let me—“ He moans, opening his mouth as wide as it’ll go so he can devour more of you. You can feel the mixture of saliva and your own arousal dripping down your cunt and over your thighs, some of it pooling on the throne or onto the floor. Your thighs shake as Din pushes you towards another high.        
You squeak as Boba’s palm sweeps up your sternum, locking his fingers around your throat in a loose hold. The tip of his nose nuzzles into your cheek—silently demanding a well earned kiss as his hips rock into your ass, grinding his cock for the barest scrap of friction. You moan into his mouth as Din doubles his efforts, raw and bordering that serrated edge of overstimulation and ecstasy.  
Goosebumps rush over your arm as Boba places his lips right beside the shell of your ear. You feel the sticky heat of his breath fan over your throat and shoulder, and the way his lips skim your ear when they move to form the syllables of his words. “Such a filthy princess…”
You clench around Din’s fingers and moan a half garbled, “Boba—“ 
His weathered palm encompasses the entirety of your breast, rolling your pebbled nipple between his forefinger and thumb. “If only you could see yourself…dripping all over my throne and another man’s tongue.” Boba clicks his tongue and shakes his head. “Depraved creature—cum for your rightful king.” 
Wildfire chars your insides as it begins in your core and sweeps through your body. Tears prick the corner of your eyes as you buck and squirm in their arms—no mercy as the prickly waves of your orgasm make you hypersensitive to each touch. Even the hold on your hip, while innocent in nature, is blistering as if you suffered from a fever. You shudder as a salty tear rolls down your cheek. Boba catches it with his tongue as your ears pick up Din’s raspy praise—thanking you while spattering reverent kisses up your thighs. 
Struggling to keep your eyes open, you do spot the apparent wetness soaking through the front of Din’s trousers. Fuck—he—he came again while eating you out. You whimper and rest the back of your head over Boba’s shoulder.  
Your belly flinches under his scratchy facial hair as Din travels up, seizing and worshiping every inch he’s freely given before intercepted. He catches your nipple between your teeth, tugs a bit then moves to the other, lavishing equal attention with adoring lips and sweet whispers. When he reaches your collarbone, you’re boxed in against his chest plate and Boba’s. A blush blooms under your cheeks hotter than stare fire as Din gingerly sucks your earlobe into his mouth and breathes out a muted moan of your name—committing the very essence of you to his memory for the rest of his days. 
Your heart squeezes tight like a clenched fist when he mumbles another thank you. Plucking up a smidge of courage, he risks planting a kiss right on the corner of your mouth. You blink—despite the sweetness of the gesture you wince as Boba snarls a curt phrase in Mando’a. Din peels himself away with a minuscule frown and slinks away.          
Yet before you have the chance to remedy the situation of wounded pride and territorial jealousy—Boba tightens his hold on your hips and flips you both, so that now your back is smashed against the seat of the throne, a bit crumpled and sorta folded in half. Your hips hang off the edge as Boba holds the majority of your weight, grinding his clothed cock between the apex of your thighs. 
“Don’t forget, princess—” Boba barks, slithering a hand up the column of your throat. You breath hitches as he lightly presses his palm down. “—what belongs to me.”
Reaching between you, he slides his gloved fingers through your slick folds and sinks two of them inside of your clenching center. You jolt as his thumb scrubs over your clit, still sensitive and edging towards too much. 
“You want me to fuck you here?” He asks, shifting his hold to grip your jaw instead—the rounds of his fingertips digging firmly into the flesh and bone. “Say it.”      
You gasp and scrabble weakly at Boba’s shoulders as he grinds the heel of his palm into your clit. “Please, Boba! Please fuck me—I need it.” 
Boba folds over you, his breath fanning hot and hungry against your cheek. He devours your mouth with a discordant edge, like he’s trying to prove to the entire galaxy you are unmistakably his despite the fact you’re already wound so tightly around his fingers. Boba wrenches himself free and tears at his robe and trousers to free his thick length, leaking and flushed a rosy brown at the tip. He doesn’t keep either of you waiting as he removes his fingers and replaces them with something bigger.       
You both groan as he lines himself up with your entrance and sinks into you, a delicious stretch that leaves you shivering beneath him. “Fuck—so wet for me.”
The first roll of his hips makes an obscene noise that showers shame down your throat, but it’s quickly kicked to the back of your brain as he slams back into your cunt—obliterating all thoughts save for him. Boba’s lip curls over his teeth as he claws at your thighs and yanks them over his shoulder, crushing you even further between the throne and the weight of his body. Each stroke is a liquid fire, tearing you apart at the seems while at the same time stitching you back together and leaving your body begging for more. Like this, it’s as if he’s reaching the deepest part of you, pounding into your cunt and hitting every nerve with deadly precision. Your legs prickle with the stretch as you squirm beneath him, stuck with the brunt of rough thrusts and violent stamina with nowhere to go.   
“Bein’ such a good girl for me." He hums into the juncture of where your neck meets your shoulders. He sucks a mark there and tangles a hand in the hair at the nape of you neck, forcing you into a steeper arch. “Maker, you look so fuckin’ pretty stretched around my cock.”
Your walls clench tight around him as you dig your nails into the fabric of his cowl. You voice cracks with airy moans—attempting to work through the haze of lust and respond. All that tumbles from your lips is a pathetic whine of his name—so close to that precipice again.    
The friction of each thrust scraping against your clit, the way he fills you and the possessive hand curled over your throat. You wiggle an arm between your bodies and rub the little bundle of nerves in a frenzied half-circle. You wheeze as Boba increases the pressure over your throat. 
“Tell me who you belong to,” he demands as devastating ripples begin to spark through your core, a live wire an inch away from a puddle of water. “Tell me—“
“You! It’s you—“ You sob, desperate for another release only he can give. “I’m yours—“
Boba snickers and gives your throat another squeeze. “Cum on my cock.” 
There we go. 
You seize and cry out, violent shivers forcing your back to arch high off the throne and into his chest plate. It tears through your being, quick and deadly through your core, spreading to every nerve and shredding through it with molten pleasure. Boba’s voice is a gravelly scrape that vibrates next to your ear, sprinting towards his own deserved euphoria. Your climax still boiling through your blood, is dragged out as Boba continues thrusting—an endless echo that leaves you incredibly oversensitive sore. For the next few moments, his thrusts are too sharp, the grip he has on you too abrasive—but then he’s cumming too. A couple more rough jabs and then he’s seating himself deep inside your cunt, his warm release coating your insides with thick ropes. 
You’re panting breaths fill the air between you, settling like fresh snow over a silent wood. By the time Boba pulls out, leaving behind a sticky trail of his cum and your arousal over the throne, you’re toeing the line of hazy unconsciousness. 
“Such a good girl,” Boba praises, threading fingers through hair and tracing the lines of your face. The the soft drone of his voice mixed with Din’s gentle baritone, murmuring something you don’t catch, casts a dreamy haze over your reality. You’re not afraid that this could back fire and blow up in your face—to move inches from two serrated blades, each seeking for a taste of blood and flesh, is always a risk. But yet, the calloused hands and the sweetness of brown eyes reach through chaos and silence to offer you salvation. You take it with a smile. 
You should invite Din over more often…you think, as you slip into content sleep. 
taglist: @goldafterglow @djxrxn @velvetmel0n @steeeeeeeviebb   @stargazingcarol @ohiobluetip @anxiety-riddled-mando @absurdthirst @thesoftdumbass @huliabitch @max--phillips @silverfish-kingdom @krissology @teaofpeaches @pettyprocrastination @nelba @beskars @jango-fettish @corrupt-fvcker @maybege @auty-ren @legally-a-bastard @bigdickdindjarin @thesparkleslugs @cryptid-candy @mandowhorian @pascaliprincess @mitchi-c @vesperstalksclones @cmakars @cptnbvcks @whewchiles @leias-left-hair-bun @astrochellie @angryares @rise-my-angel @stardust-galaxies @phoenixhalliwell @samhollandssweaters @blue-writes-a03 @hdlynnslibrary @darthadeline @calamity-queen @luxurybeskar @justanotherblonde23 @book-hoardingdragon @fahrenheit-not @princessxkenobi @skdubbs @ben-is-a-hoe @3strogen @chasingdreamer @weebblossom @bobaandthefetts​
sorry if I missed you AH!!!!
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v-hope · 9 months ago
One Way Ticket
Pairing: Kim Taehyung x Reader (ft. Yeontan bc Family)
Genre: Flufffff, established relationship, long distance relationship (not for long), and like, slight angst at the beginning if you squint your eyes and do a backflip
Word Count: 4k
Summary: Long distance relationships are never an easy thing, and although you and Taehyung had managed to make it work for four years and were used to not seeing each other that much already, he couldn’t help but feel like his birthday was ruined at the news of you being stuck at the airport due to a bad weather flight delay. However, although things didn’t quite go to plan, it only took for you to arrive two hours before the day was over for it to be his happiest of birthdays so far.
A/N: Hellooo, well, obviously this is for my man’s birthday 🥳💝 This story takes place in my Red Flags series’ timeline since one of you requested it and I thought it would be really cute, but you don’t need to have read it to understand what’s going on here. I hope you guys enjoy! please let me know your thoughts~
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“You were supposed to be here today” Taehyung reminded you, unconsciously tightening his hold on the phone as his low voice did a good job at letting you know just how upset he was.
You sighed, that alone letting him know you weren’t having a good time with said fact that was just not happening anymore either. “I can’t control the weather, love…”
Now, he knew that. Of course he knew that. But right then, he really fucking wished you did control the weather. That way you wouldn’t be stuck in another continent still due to a snowstorm that had delayed, if not cancelled, all flights that week — a stupid snowstorm that was keeping you away from him for longer than you should have.
It was a joke. It had got to be a joke.
That was what Taehyung kept telling himself throughout the whole phone call, and continuing to believe —to wanting to believe— so even after you hung up.
You were supposed to arrive that night. That had been the plan all along. All his schedule he had rearranged so he could make sure that particular night he would spend with you. Just you and him. Since the very next day, also known as his birthday, he would have to go to rehearsal for BTS’ presentation on the 31th like every other year, he was looking forward the most to this night. He had it all planned out. Your flight would arrive at 8pm, he would pick you up and then the two of you would have dinner together back at your —now— shared place. You would wait up until midnight, have some cake afterwards, and then stay up late so you could, well, catch up on a few coupley things you had been missing out on for a good while now. After all, you had not seen each other in nearly five months.
It was funny, how he used to always say he would never be able to do long distance relationships when he was younger, yet here he was now, four years —and going strong— into one. It was hard as hell, he could not deny it, but he wouldn’t have had it any other way, not as long as he got to be with you in the end. And at the end of the day it was all worth it, for you had finally graduated uni back home, managed to find a job in Seoul, and were now moving in with him like the two of you had agreed on a long time ago, once you realised you were most definitely sticking together for as long as your lives allowed you to. So, even if he had to wait a little longer to see you, this time it was different, for you had only gotten a one way ticket, and he would never again have to drop you off at the airport and cling on to you like his life depended on it, somehow being harder for him to let go of you as the years went by.
Nevertheless, it sucked. Right then, it really fucking sucked. Five months had gone by without seeing you already and turns out he would now have to wait one or even two more days than planned? Bullshit. And that if he was being optimistic, because he swore to God he would lose his shit if you had to spend New Years Eve on a plane, alone. Not like you were spending it together to begin with either, since he had that thing to attend to, but you would at least have a good time with some of the friends you had made during the time you had stayed in Seoul for your uni’s exchange program, and who had now invited you over to a party you had oh-so-excitedly told him about.
That night, Taehyung went to bed late. Still wanting to believe with everything in him you were just pulling a prank on him like you loved to do every now and then, and that you would walk through the front door anytime with that tired face of yours after the long ass flights to Korea he was so used to by then — the same exhausted face that would light up as a bright smile took over your factions instead at the sight of him.
However, that night, you did not make it home. What you did make it to instead, was to be the first one to congratulate him on his day. Over the phone, yes, with the airport’s background noise and not in person like he had wanted to, yet there you were being once again the first one to do so, at exactly 00:00. And somehow, that alone was enough to make him happy before going to sleep. Not as happy as he would’ve been with getting to sleep with you in his arms, of course, but happy nevertheless.
He did not lose faith, though. The next morning, as he got ready to head out to rehearsal, he kept glancing at his apartment’s door over and over, still waiting for it to burst open anytime and for you to walk inside right after.
When that didn’t happen, he looked forward to the moment his members brought him his birthday cake as they waited in the dressing rooms for their turn to rehearse. Now, the guys hadn’t told him they were bringing him cake, but after all these years it was pretty much a given. And it would only make sense that you were there, right? Whether it was bringing the cake to him as everyone in the room sang the traditional birthday song to him, or showing up as a surprise right after.
Once that didn’t happen either, he couldn’t hide his disappointment anymore — still being grateful to everyone else for trying to make his special day a memorable one, yet not being able to fully enjoy it without you there. Even falling in the cliché of wishing for you to be there as he blew out the candles. That was truly all he wanted, after all.
And once his schedule for the day was finally cleared up, his last hope was walking into the apartment that night and seeing you already there waiting for him.
Again, that didn’t happen.
Biting the inside of his cheek as he walked into an empty apartment, although Yeontan was there to excitedly welcome him back home and had managed to bring a weak smile to his face, he couldn’t help but feel his eyes well up with tears. Telling himself over and over how stupid it was to be upset over something neither of you could control, he contemplated calling you for a few seconds, shaking that thought off with a tilt of his head and deciding to go take a hot shower instead. No matter how bad he wanted to, if he did call you, he knew for sure he would end up being even more upset than he already was, and then you would end up being upset as well, and that he did not want.
Not even bothering on drying his hair later that night, he changed into his pyjamas and called Tan to go keep him some company like it was usual by then. Watching the fluffy dog make himself comfortable on the mattress, Taehyung turned the lights off so he could get into bed for once and for all — wanting nothing but to sleep that day off so you would hopefully be there by the morning. Although it would no longer be his birthday, he wished he could at least get to spend some time together before he had to head out once again.
Before he could completely doze off, however, he felt Yeontan snap up from his sleep and effusively wave his tail from side to side as he ran to the closed door of the bedroom. Letting out a tired groan, Taehyung glanced over at the clock on his nightstand, staring at the number ten on it for a second before he turned the lamp on and fixed his eyes on his excited pup.
“I already fed you,” his voice came out hoarse at the lack of speaking, catching Tan’s attention for a second there before he was back at barking at the door. “Don’t tell me you want to go to the b—”
That’s when the sound of a key making it inside the front door’s lock caught his attention. And, you see, only two people had a key to the apartment. One was his, of course, and the other one, much to his excitement right then, was yours.
Not even having time to catch his breath, he jumped off the bed and opened the bedroom’s door, watching Yeontan sprint down the already illuminated hallway as you had just turned its lights on — a huge smile parting his lips at the sight of you, not being able to hold back a giggle of his at the way you had panicked and closed the door harder than you had intended to, so Tan wouldn’t be able to run out of the apartment.
“Tan-ie bean!” you excitedly greeted the pup first thing as he reached your side.
Struggling to move past your suitcase, you managed to kneel down to pet the cute ball off fluff with one hand as you held the other one as far up as you could, holding a strawberry cupcake with a single candle on it that you had already lit up right before coming in — maybe not your brightest of ideas.
Staring up at your boyfriend, who was still on the other end of the hallway, you smiled brightly and stood up straight as he came closer. “Happ—”
Before you could even finish what you had initially planned to sing and had by then settled for cheerfully chanting instead, Taehyung had already pulled you into his arms — unintentionally blowing out the candle as he had rushed over to you way faster than he’d like to admit.
“I missed you” he mumbled, wrapping his arms tighter around your figure and burying his face in the crook of your neck as he felt his heart at ease.
You smiled sweetly, wrapping your arms around him as well —being careful enough not to stain his designer pyjamas with the cupcake’s icing— and pressing down a small kiss to his shoulder.
“I missed you, too” you cooed, hearing him giggle when you planted a kiss on his neck this time.
“Why didn’t you tell me you were getting on a plane already?”
“Because I thought I would get here before you came back from rehearsal and I’d surprise you. You know, wait for you with dinner and whatnot…” you pouted. “But then of course I had trouble with my luggage and got here way too late. So I got you a cupcake and a candle instead!”
Taehyung giggled at the way you had ever so cheerfully said that last part, pulling slightly away from your body so he could glance at the cupcake in your hand you had just raised up in a victorious way.
“You could’ve just showed up barehanded, said ‘happy birthday’, and I would’ve been the happiest”.
“You interrupted me when I was about to tell you ‘happy birthday’, though” you huffed over dramatically.
Letting out a light laugh, he securely cupped your face in his warm hands and rested his forehead on yours, smiling blissfully as ever at how close he was able to have you right then, at how he was able to feel your warmness in his hands after all those months. “You can say it again now”.
“But you already blew out the candle” you pouted, bringing the treat closer to him so he could see your point.
“I guess this is the moment my wish comes true then”.
“You didn’t even get to make a wish, you idiot” you rolled your eyes.
“Oh, I did” he nodded his head determinedly. “Earlier today. And not to brag about it, but it already became true”.
“Was it perhaps for me to arrive today?” you coyly batted your eyelashes, earning a very visible roll of eyes from him.
“Cocky, aren’t we?”
“I mean,” you shrugged, taking a step back from him and his hold. “I can always go back home and send your actual wish ov—”
“Yah,” he stopped you as you dramatically turned around to pretend to leave and Yeontan followed right after, pulling you back to him by your wrist. “I didn’t spend pretty much my entire birthday wishing for you to get here so you can leave me just like that” his eyes turned softer, yet still held that playful vibe in them. “Besides,” he pulled you closer, this time by your waist. “Funny how you said ‘go back home’ when this is your home now, baby” your heart skipped a beat at his remark, appreciating the way he looked up and puckered his lips as he pretended to fall deep in thought. “Hm… Maybe I misheard”.
You giggled at the way he had copied your overdramatic ways, bringing your free hand up to sweetly caress his cheek. “My bad, love”.
Taehyung smiled, with that boxy smile you fell in love with years ago, and nodded softly to let you know it was alright. “Can I get my birthday kiss now?” he murmured, ever so faintly brushing his longing lips against yours. “I’m kinda dying over here”.
Shaking your head in amusement as you laughed, you bit your lower lip. “Just kiss me already, you dork”.
So he did, not even dreaming of wasting another second before his lips hungrily crashed against yours. He had missed you like crazy, he always did, but right then, as your soft lips were pressing on his and your hand made its way from his cheek to the back of his head, entangling your fingers in his still damp hair, he realised just how bad he had craved your touch, how bad he had craved you.
Having him deepen the kiss, you couldn’t help but take one step back as you had lost your balance — his hand being quick to bring your body right back to press against his, later resting on your lower back to keep you steady as his other hand firmly cupped your cheek.
“Happy birthday” you mumbled against his mouth when you had pulled away to catch your breath, feeling the corners of his lips curve up before he pressed them to yours once more.
“It is now” he hummed, drawing tender circles with his thumb on your chin and not being able to hold back a giggle when it was you the one to steal a kiss from his mouth right then.
Your breath hitched when you felt his hands made their way down your body, letting out a squeal when they grabbed your thighs and picked you up without a warning — your arms wrapping tightly around his neck and legs around his waist as his hands were firmly placed on your ass to keep you from slipping down while he walked the two of you out of the hallway and into the living room, having Yeontan run past you two and go lie on the couch.
“Yah, I just got here and you’re already going for second base?” you teased him with raised eyebrows.
Taehyung shook his head, cockily raising one of his own. “I’ve earned my right to all bases a long time ago, I don’t know what you’re talking about”.
“Don’t get too cocky, Kim Taehyung” you warned him as he sat you down on the edge of the counter, being careful enough not to knock down one of the pictures of the two of you that were neatly displaying on it. “I might revoke all your rights”.
“You wouldn’t” he daringly squinted his eyes. “Not on my birthday”.
You threw your head back, letting out a loud laugh and placing the cupcake down on the counter before you went back to his eye level. “Only under two hours until it’s over, so...”
“You wouldn’t” he repeated confidently.
“What makes you so sure, old man?”
Shaking his head in amusement and deciding not to comment on the taunting name you had just called him, he didn’t even try to hide the smirk that was curving up the corners of his lips as he leaned in. “I just know”.
Not even trying to play it hard anymore, you met his lips in the middle, humming contentedly when he placed his hand behind your neck so he could take control over the kiss he was not quite willing to let go of yet. And neither were you, which is why your eyes remained closed and your lips slightly puckered up —clearly wanting more— when he suddenly pulled away one minute later.
“Okay, now tell me my birthday present!” he demanded.
Still being too stunned by the intoxicating kiss he had just given you, it took you a second to open your eyes after hearing his muffled yet excited words against your lips — eyes locking with his excited ones as his hands unconsciously rested on your thighs.
“Oh, it’s in my bag!” you jumped up once you managed to understand what he had meant. “Let me go get it”.
Although your words were meant for him to move aside so you could get up on your feet and rush over to the forgotten suitcase on the hallway, Taehyung did not move an inch — if anything, tightening the hold of his hands on your thighs to keep you from going anywhere.
“Not that one”.
Your eyebrows knitted together in confusion. “The cupcake?” you offered, earning a light laugh from him, along with a small shake of his head. “Sex? Because I know I was just threatening with revoking that right, but since it’s still your birthday, I mean...”
Taehyung laughed wholeheartedly, once again shaking his head no as he brought his face closer to yours. “Although I would love that and will take you up on that offer later,” his bold words managed to bring some heat to your cheeks. “That is not what I meant”.
“What did you mean then?”
“Just want you to tell me something...” he hinted, gently caressing your sides. “How long will you be staying, baby?”
You rolled your eyes when it finally hit you what he had meant all along. And you couldn’t help but laugh lightly at how such simple things were the ones that made him the happiest. “Well, considering I only got a one way ticket over here this time,” your heart sped up at the way his smile grew wider at the sound of that. “And that the rest of my stuff will arrive here in a few days… I’d say I’m staying for quite a long, long time”.
“How about forever?” he smiled brightly.
You giggled, tilting your head up in anticipation as you felt him lean in to press his mouth on yours. “I like the sound of that”.
“I love the sound of that” he agreed, pressing another kiss to your smiling lips.
And you truly did, for although you were leaving everything behind, your family, your childhood friends, your culture... it was easy as long as you had him. And even though you knew there would be times homesickness would hit you like a truck, especially when the time came and Taehyung would have to go on tour with his group, you were ready to start your new life here with him. You had already lived here once for a year, after all, the only difference being you now got to live with your long term boyfriend, and, of course, that you wouldn’t have to count down the days until you had to go back home and away from him anymore.
“Everything alright?” he wondered, catching up on the way you had momentarily spaced out.
“Mhm…” you were quick to reassure him with an eager nod of your head. “Now eat your birthday treat before I do” you threatened, grabbing the cupcake that had been lying next to you all along and bringing it up to his face.
Taehyung chuckled, pressing a lingering kiss to your neck that was sweetly followed by another one. “But I have my birthday treat right here…”
Although flustered by both his words and the way his lips kept peppering soft kisses all over the sensitive skin of your neck, you stood your ground. “Pretty sure I’m your girlfriend, but oh well”.
He chuckled once more — before you could react, dipping one of his long fingers on the icing and spreading a good amount of it on your lips. “Now you’re both”.
You didn’t really get to fully laugh at his playful antics before the sound of it was muffled by his mouth sucking on your bottom lip, his fingers holding onto your chin to keep you from pulling away as he deepened the kiss — making sure to remove every last trace of icing on your mouth before he slid his tongue into it.
Breaking the kiss for a brief second for what he thought was to catch your breath before bringing your already swollen lips back to his awaiting ones, he found himself letting his jaw drop when you opened your mouth not to kiss him once more, but to bring the infamous cupcake up to it and loudly bite down on it.
“Yah, that is my strawberry cupcake!” he called you out — although trying to act mad, having a hard time hiding his smile at the way you had just covered your full mouth as you laughed whilst trying to chew right then.
“You weren’t eating it, so…” you shrugged.
Before you could take another bite, however, he grabbed your wrist, quickly moving it up to his mouth instead and shoving the entire baked good into it in just one go.
Petrified after what just happened, you stared at your now empty hand — amazed by the way he had managed not to bite into your fingers with how fast and forceful his mouth had been, before your eyes fixed on your full-mouthed boyfriend as he struggled to chew the whole thing down.
“Mine” he stated, not minding to cover his mouth as he was almost done with it already.
“I tend to forget how big your mouth actually is” you admitted, mindlessly sucking the remains of icing from off your fingers.
Taehyung scoffed, rushing to swallow down so he could properly speak. “You out of all people should know what my mouth can d—”
“You know,” you cut him off before he could pronounce that last letter and bring his cocky point across. “Booking a return plane ticket sounds really tempting right now”.
“Oh, yeah?” he tauntingly raised one of his eyebrows, pulling you closer to the edge of the counter and making you wrap your legs around his waist. “Good thing from now on those return tickets will bring you right back to Seoul”.
That was what made him the happiest. After all those years of buying ticket after ticket, all those years of having to drop you off at the airport so you could go back home, all those years of having to wait for endless months just so you could see each other for a few days, all of that, was over now.
From that night on, this was your home. You, him and Yeontan, and of course, the eventual additions that would be made in a couple of years.
And that was the best part. No matter where you travelled to from now on, you would always just go visit abroad and return right here, back to him — never again being almost about to miss his birthday, for you would both go to sleep and wake up right next to him during all the upcoming ones, just like he had ached you to do every single day ever since you got together four years ago.
1K notes · View notes
papijean · 5 months ago
behind the lens [5]
previous - series masterlist - next 
chapter summary: Paradis’ hot summers were both a blessing and a curse, just as your experience in the library was
warnings: smut, public sex, fingering, 
word count: 5.3k 
a/n: Thoughts on who it is?? Feel free to spam my inbox lollll. hope you all enjoy xx
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Paradis' summers were unbearably hot. By mid-July, it was impossible to stay out in the sun for more than an hour without getting threatened with heatstroke. Even now in March, the heat was scorching. It was enough for you to skip the jeans and go straight for a sundress and sandals. The change of attire was nice from the hoodies you cowered in all winter.
Another midterm was rounding the corner and you were yet to buckle down and study for it. The dreaded Sunday before needed to be dedicated to going over all the material after your week-long procrastination. It was easy enough to forget about the books, much less when you were focused on finding out who Paradis_Finest was and pass your statistics class.
Thankfully, Armin and Mikasa had the same idea about heading to the library to spend their day studying. Even if it wasn't the most fun activity, at least you could spend time with some of your closest friends.
Your backpack weighed heavy on your shoulders as you approached the school's library. Mikasa and Armin were there since early that morning and you were yet to arrive only after lunch. How they managed to be so dedicated to their studies, you had no idea.
They booked a room for the whole day, no distractions meant they could actually get through everything they needed to. It also made it a hell of a lot easier to find them too. Armin had his nose deep in his textbook while Mikasa was lazily scrolling through her laptop like she was rereading her notes for the tenth time.
Both of them perked up at the sight of you - looks like they were getting pretty bored too. However, it was more likely they were excited about the frosty cold drinks you held. Armin stripped off his jacket and only remained in his t-shirt, Mikasa was much the same as well.
"(Y/N)!" Armin exclaimed as you walked into the secluded room. The library was relatively empty as you wandered through trying to find them. "Finally decided to join us?"
"I know, sorry I'm late," you apologized, "but I figured these would make up for it." You handed them their drinks, taking a sip of your own as well. The cold liquid felt heavenly against your hot skin from the weather outside. At least the building was air-conditioned. "Been busy?"
"Not really," Mikasa admitted. "You look nice."
You and Ymir decided to keep Levi's proposition to yourselves. As much as you loved your friends, they didn't need to know about your additional motivation to find your sex tape creator. Mikasa, the smart one she was, quickly found out the truth anyway. She was your roommate, and she could always see right through you.
"Thanks. I figured since it's hot out I may as well start pulling out the sundresses again, right?" You smiled. Your books were pulled out of your backpack and spread out in front of you. The day was already going by so fast you had no time left to waste chatting with your friends with just some small talk.
In all honesty, it was kind of hard to look Armin in the eyes still. After your night with Eren and everything you heard, you only got flustered when thinking about how he probably heard everything. He never said anything about it, nor did he seem bothered by your hookup with his roommate. There was still the looming feeling he detested you for it though.
Sleeping with Eren was the biggest shift your friend group ever saw. Eren's touchy hands were always something part of your history with them, but now that everyone knew you had sex it just felt off. Was it really worth losing your friend to solve this thing? Would you lose your friends over it?
Jean appeared to be the most frustrated with this whole situation. He never saw eye to eye with Eren before but now it was even worse. Every conversation was snappy and hot-headed. He was the entire reason you believed your choice that night was going to split your friends up. Jean was acting crazy and you had no idea why.
"What midterm do you have?" Armin asked. By the way you were staring at your book, it was clear you weren't even reading the pages and more so deep in your own thoughts. Armin was right to think this. Even just an hour into studying and you were bored out of your mind.
"Bio. The prof sucks but her tests aren't too bad I guess," you shrugged. Armin closed his textbook, looking up at you with those bright blue eyes of his.
"I'm pretty much done for the day do you want some help?" He offered. As much as you didn't want to ask for help from him, Armin was a genius and would be such a great aid to you that denying him would only be foolish. "I mean I haven't taken your class but I did take a few bio classes first year."
"That would great, Armin, thank you. Mikasa is that okay? I don't want to distract you." Mikasa shook her head. Once she was in the zone of studying, nothing could distract her - not even Connie and Sasha's arguing. You envied her concentration, it was an attribute she was always known for.
Armin slid your notes over to himself. He glanced down the pages to get an idea about what you were learning about before deciding how he should help you. He turned his chair to face you straight on, gesturing for you to adjust your seat as well.  Before speaking, he cleared his throat and took a sip of the drink you bought him.
"Ready?" You nodded.
Armin listed off questions and definitions for you to answer. He was patient when you couldn't get an answer and kindly offered assistance when you were so close to getting it right. His ability to adapt to a class he never took was incredible, along with asking just the right questions to make you wonder how well you actually knew the material.
He held the cutest little laugh when you were overly proud of getting an answer right. The more questions you went through, the more confident you got. You would have never gotten this far along without his help.
For the first time in a long time, you were genuinely focused on your studies. You were worried about the next party or your constant obsession with Pradis_Finest. Armin held your entire attention and he was determined to put it to good use. Even Mikasa seemed impressed by your intense studying.
Armin's questions gradually began repeating themselves. He went over the ones you barely got the first time and saw improvement the second time around. Within hours, he whipped you into shape for this midterm.
Your feet eventually propped themselves up on his chair, and his on yours. The new slumped position had you both slacking off on the questions and more so just chatting. Mikasa gave up on her own studying and joined you guys. It was nice getting to spend time with them without Eren there.
You didn't feel the pressure of his gaze nor the wandering hands against your skin - not that you minded either of them. However, the change of pace was nice, it was rare to see the duo without Eren. Even if they were all completely different.
Your laughter at Mikasa's joke was suddenly cut off by the door to your study room being pulled open. Jean stood at the entrance with his backpack over his shoulder. You didn't realize he was planning on studying with the three of you - not that it mattered much. However, Jean was the worst person to study with next to Connie. Both of them were incredibly distracting.
"Hey, guys!"
"Jean," you smiled up at him. If you thought you were going to get any more studying done earlier you certainly weren't now. Even if his intention was to study with you, he easily got himself distracted. Nonetheless, with Armin's help, you felt great about your midterm. "What are you doing here?"
"Geez, is it really that hard to believe I'm here to study?" Jean joked. He took the spare chair beside you and scooted it close. His chin rested on your shoulder, his arm lazily thrown over the other as he read over the notebook in your hand. You could feel the heat radiating off of him from his time outside. "Bio? Sounds boring."
"It's actually pretty interesting," Armin piped in. He seemed to be enjoying helping you study - not only did he get to learn some stuff himself but it was satisfying to watch your knowledge grow along the way. "What do you have to work on?"
"A paper," Jean sighed, leaning back in his chair. A chill went down you with the loss of heat. Jean was rarely this touchy with you - but you had noticed this entire week he was like this. Hand on your shoulder, sneaking by with his fingers pressing into the small of your back, even a random hug from behind.
"I still need a final source for it and the only place I can find it in this maze of a library," Jean explained. Of course, there was no other reason he would want to be here on a Sunday afternoon. "Then I just happened to run into you guys. Looks like you're ready to tap out for the day."
"We've been here since nine," Mikasa nodded. She looked exhausted, too. "I think I'm going to go to the gym before going home though. Still have a little bit to do here."
"Yeah I'm ready for a nap," your yawn was perfectly timed. Armin pulled his legs off your chair as you stood up to stretch. Jean happened to realize you were wearing a dress since walking into the room, his eyes lit up in the most subtle way. You couldn't deny it was nice having a pair of eyes stuck on you.
"Nap sounds great," Armin admitted. His shoulders were sore from sitting in those chairs for so long. Some tea sounded great too but the hot weather was deterring everyone from such a scorching beverage.
"Want to join me?" You winked at him. Armin's face flushed completely red at your joke. He feverishly shook his head at the idea. You and the others couldn't contain your laughter towards him, only make him more flustered. He stuttered over his words, trying to think of something to save himself but it was only making it worse. "It's okay Armin, I'm only teasing."
"I-I know," his cheeks were still lit up. He hid his face in his hands, hiding his fluster from his friends. Out of everyone, he was the easiest to get worked up like this. You chuckled again. "Stop!" He whined.
"Alright, alright. I guess I can't bug you too much you did just help me all afternoon," you stopped. It was so easy to tease him, Armin got flustered at every little thing. His cheeks would flush pink and he got the sweetest little stutter. "What about you Jean-Boy? Need any help finding your last source?"
"That would be great, actually," Jean grinned. You felt as if there was something else hiding behind his smile. Whatever it was, it made your stomach lurch - and not in a bad way either. Jean always had a kind smile for you, but this was different. He held a look in his eyes that made you wonder what the hell was going on in his head. "I hate finding books in this damn place it's impossible."
"Tch. Last year I spent an hour looking for one. Damn people working here were no help," you agreed with him. It was much easier finding books online than it was in person, yet sometimes you held no other choice. Jean looked just as displeased as you did with the thought of spending an hour for just one source. "Are you guys staying here? We can take our stuff otherwise."
"No it's fine, we can wait until you come back," Armin assured.
You followed Jean out of the room and into the general direction of where his book likely was. As you walked, he listed off the details of what he needed so it was easier for you to find. It sounded like one of the blandest books in the entire section. The two of you scoured the shelves, looking for this stupid book of his.
The library was cleared out even more than when you first arrived. The few people that remained were all hunched over their textbooks and deep in thought or huddled up in one of the rooms you and your friends were in. The silence was eerie and only the ventilation sounded throughout.
All the words on the spines started to blend together the longer you searched. It had to have been nearing twenty minutes since you started looking for it. A loud sigh left your lungs, followed by Jean chuckling at your frustration. You felt your cheeks warm as he looked over at you.
Finally, like the holy grail of books, you found the damned thing. Unfortunately, it happened to be up on the top shelf where your eyes could see and your arms could not. The tips of your fingers could just barely touch the spine of the book, but not enough to get a grip on it and pull it down.
Jean heard your struggle before he saw it. You stood up on your toes, arms stretching as far as they could go. The hem of your dress followed your reach, lifting high enough for the already short material to ride up and just barely show off the curve of your ass. It was enough for Jean to be hooked.
Why does Jaeger get to be the only one with a taste?
Jean stalked over to you. His tall height easily reaching the book he was looking for the whole time. However, as he grabbed it, the hand closest to you rested on the small of your back. The heat of it burned through the material of your dress, just as Eren's touch did to you. The small action made you freeze.
Even worse, as he brought the book down, his hand slid down as well. His palm grazed your ass, fingertips just barely touching your bare thighs. It was quiet enough for him to hear the breath in your throat hitch and you swore he could hear your heart rate too. One touch from him and you were ready to shut down any form of rational thought.
Your eyes darted down to his hands. Long, nimble fingers, veins protruding from his skin in the most elegant way. Jean's hands... you swore those hands were familiar. They reminded you all too much of the ones you watched so expertly get women off in the middle of lecture halls. They reminded you of the ones that belonged to Paradis_Finest.
But Jean? He never showed the signs of arrogance you expected from the one behind the camera. Eren protruded the kind of confidence needed to pull something like this off, just as most of the football boys did like Connie's theory. Jean always held himself high and mighty, but never enough to go around making these sex tapes.
The other day Jean knew exactly what video you were watching from a single screenshot in just a glance. It barely took him a second to recognize what you were watching. No one would pick it up that fast unless they watched it several times over - or they were the ones to make it. Jean didn't seem like the kind of person who would watch porn in public - which he would have had to with the timing of the release.
Was he Paradis_Finest?
Or more so, if he was - did he plan this all along for you to be his next tape? The last tape was in Levi's office, what was to say the next video would be in a place where there were clearly people around? Was he getting riskier, or did this just happen to be a coincidence?
The sweet, delicious prize Professor Ackerman offered up to you made it even easier to want to find out the truth. If it was Jean, this was your only chance, and you couldn't waste it even if it meant you were going to be the next upload people watched on repeat.
Jean hovered at your side, no longer dragging those delicate fingers along your backside but refusing to move away. It seemed he was waiting for you to move or say something, anything to give him a hint of what was going on inside your mind.
"Jean," your voice was barely above a whisper. His tall frame face you straight on, trapping you between himself and the bookcase. The cold metal pressed against your spine, but it wasn't the reason for the chill running down your body. "I-I."
Why the hell were you so nervous? How was this any different than being with Eren? He was just as close a friend. Maybe it was because Jean never held a particular interest in you as Eren did. So why was he now? Because you slept with Eren? Or was it some other reason? You only hoped the reason was that he was the man you were searching for.
"You look so pretty in that sundress," Jean planted his hand on your waist. His thumb glided over the soft material of the dress, just barely catching the underside of your breast in his action. You forced air into your lungs as your nerves continued. "All dolled up just for studying? Hmm?"
"It's hot out," you finally managed to get a proper sentence out. All you could focus on was how his hands burned through your dress. They edged higher and higher until the palm of his hands was nearly right on your chest. Your own hands shook at your sides. In a bold move, you hooked your index fingers into the belt loops on his jeans and pulled him closer towards you. "Is this what you want, Jean?"
He was taken aback by the sudden confidence in your voice. The shaky look in your eyes changed to one of determination in a split second. A playful grin toyed at his lips.
"We're in the middle of the library," Jean reminded. His hands no longer rested on your upper half, instead, he played with the hem of your dress. It didn't take him long to slip them under, palming your thighs while he waited for you to say something. As empty as it was in the building, you still feared watchful eyes - especially those of your friends waiting for you in the study room.
The second he touched your bare skin you didn't care about the people anymore. His touch was like lightning zapping at every nerve in your body. Jean wasn't like Eren, he didn't ooze cockiness but he was just as confident in his capabilities. You were curious to see how his traits would transfer to something like this.
"Gonna have to be quiet then."
"That's too bad," Jean went higher on your legs. He never took his eyes off of you, waiting to see when your strong facade cracked again. He pried your legs apart, just enough for a cool draft to shoot right to your core. Jean's finger grazed over the increasingly wet material. Barely a touch and you had to force back a whimper. "Eren always talks about how pretty your moans are, I really wanted to hear them for myself."
Tch. So he did talk about your night with the rest of the guys. It shouldn't have come as a surprise he always liked to show off. Maybe that was why Armin still couldn't look you quite in the eye - he knew everything Eren hyped up about your night was true. He never every moan, plea, and beg that came past your lips all because he was the unfortunate roommate.
"He's such a bragger," Jean continued. His scorching fingers nipped away at the hem of your underwear. It's nothing compared to the heat you're emitting, the absolute wetness threatening to drip out of you. You can't deny the idea of doing this where people could hear or see only excited you more. "Always talks about how he could pull you, think it's time to prove I can do better than him. Is that what you want? Hmm?"
He waits for you to give him an answer before going any further. It's polite of him, knowing even if you're showing all the signs of wanting this - your mind might say otherwise. The abruptness of it, the location, the timing, all of it was whirling around and screaming at you to say no. But the chance that your connection with his beautiful long fingers and the split-second recognition of that video left you needing to say yes. Your body and mind wanted this.
"Please," you whispered. Jean's whole demeanor changed. No longer the playful tease, but a lust-filled predator with eyes only on you. He wasted no time with you, continuing his journey past your underwear to get to the real prize. Jean hummed with content as his fingers slid between your slick folds.
Without hesitation, he slipped a digit in. You were so welcoming for him, so eager to take whatever of him you could into your warmth. He wanted to take you right then and there with how well you were taking just his fingers. Denying you wanted exactly that too would have been foolish.
"Come on pretty girl, I wanna hear those famous moans of yours," Jean encouraged. We worked at a slow, leisurely pace. His motions were hindered by the restriction of your underwear and it was clear he was growing more and more frustrated with it. Even then, even with barely get a chance with you, you were so close to giving him the noises he wanted.
Your teeth dug into your lip, head tilted back and resting on the metal shelf behind you. Jean took the opportunity to attach his lips to your exposed neck. His lips were soft but his actions were anything but. Sharp nips and bites were left on the tender skin of your neck. Each time he dug his teeth into you, he could feel you tighten around his fingers.
Jean was marking you up like you were his property. You knew damn well why too, he wanted to make sure Eren knew exactly what he did to you. He wanted him to know he wasn't the only one who could make you beg for more. By the rate he was going, he was going to be right there too.
"Jean," you whined. Your fingers were tangled in his thick hair, tugging at the roots as you tried to control yourself. Have to stay quiet. "S-so good."
His lips pressed to yours with a sudden change of pace. Your core missing his touch instantly, enough to finally get one of those desperate whines he wanted to hear. His face lit up with a sinister smile. He latched onto your panties, pulling them down your legs and shoving the flimsy material into his pocket.
He earned himself complete access to you. The flowy dress wouldn't stop his determined hands, not that you wanted him to quit at this point. Again now you were here to find out if he was Paradis_Finest and you found yourself too consumed in pleasure to even care about it anymore. Twice you fell for this trick.
"Come on, Jean, please," you whined. He danced around where you wanted him. This was what he craved, to see you plead for him, and then to watch you cum. This was all he was here for, to get the satisfaction of watching you get off on his fingers and prove he was just as good as his friend.
"Not even afraid to beg in the middle of a library huh?" His voice was low. The thrill of potentially getting caught only got you hornier for him. Having someone hear you, have your lewd sounds engraved in their mind for the rest of the day, god that was all you wanted. You wanted to be what others thought about at night.
"Just - ah, god! Please, just wanna feel good."
"Don't worry, sweetheart. I'll make you feel better than anyone could."
Your dress barely covered your lower half. If anyone were to walk by, they would definitely see your sopping cunt. Was this how he felt every time? The excitement? It made it easier to understand why he did what he did.
Jean propped your leg up on the second shelf of the bookcase you leaned on. The elevation made it easier for him to glide his finger back through your folds.  He was good at this - so damn good you had trouble holding back your moans. If he wanted to hear you, the opportunity he took was a wasted one. Then again, maybe he thought this was the only one he could get - or if he proved himself he would get another chance.
"Ah! Fuck," you gripped his shirt as if it was the only thing keeping you up. The squelching noises Jean was pulling out of you were filthy. The sounds were nearly as satisfying as your voice to him, this was how wet he could get you without his cock. There was no better satisfaction. It took everything for you to be silent.
"Nah-ah, not allowed to go hiding on me now," Jean chastised as you bit your lip to hold back sounds. He curled his fingers within you, hitting a spot he was yet to find until now and making you mewl with utter pleasure.  To make matters even more difficult, the base of his palm ground into your clit, igniting a second wave of pleasure over you. A shameless moan emitted, one that was certainly loud enough for people to hear. "That's it, sweetheart."
When you threatened to let out another, Jean pressed his lips to yours. As much as he wanted to hear every one of your sounds, too many and you'd get caught. It wasn't a risk he was willing to take - not when he still hasn't gotten to see how pretty you look when you cum. Not to mention he was trying to hold back a moan himself - the way you clenched around his fingers, the feeling went straight to his cock.
"Jean! fuck, please, please I'm so close," you cried out into the crook of his neck. Everything about you he was completely entranced by, your warmth, your walls, the quiet whimpers you tried to hold back, all of it. He could understand why Eren was bragging, you were incredible and he barely even got a taste.
"Are you sweet girl?" Jean sped up his motions. He adored the struggle you were going through to keep silent in the library. You were yet to catch the attention of watchful eyes, though, in all honesty, he wouldn't even mind having someone watch as he got you off. Watchful eyes were something he not only hoped for but encouraged. "Feel so good on my fingers, wonder how nice this pussy would feel around my cock."
Your nails dug into his biceps, leaving little crescents in his skin that came close to breaking the skin. Sweat beaded along your forehead both from the heat and the pleasure Jean was so effortlessly giving you. Every thrust of his fingers edged you closer to your release, every curl bringing out a breathless whine just for him.
He did the same combination as previously, the tips of his fingers curling up to hit your most vulnerable spot and the heel of his palm digging so preciously into your sweet bundle of nerves. The action alone was enough to bring you right to the edge, and his words of praise and encouragement were enough to push you right off.
"That's it doll, fuck you're so perfect. Wanna feel you cum, wanna make you feel good," Jean whispered to you. You fell into his shoulder as he brought you to your peak. Waves of pure pleasure filled your body. You wanted to give him the loud, shameless moans he deserved, but couldn't bring yourself to let it out in public like this.
Instead, your teeth sank into his shoulder, pathetically muffling your loud moan. The vibrations rumbled through his body as he continued to ride out your high. This was what he wanted, to see you fall apart just for him - and fuck were you incredible while doing it. He was encased in you, understanding now why Eren was so eager to brag.
A line of drool went from your lips to the place you were biting his shoulder as you pulled away. Your face was flushed, eyes still lidded with linger amounts of your high running through you. The pad of Jean's thumb delicately worked against your clit, fingers still deep inside you but unmoving. Even the small jolt of pleasure had you whimpering again.
"You're really not as innocent as you look, (Y/N)," Jean smirked down at you. He pulled his hand away from your sensitive cunt, admiring how your juices ran down the back of his hand. Your eyes stayed on his as he brought them up to his lips and pushed his digits past them. "So sweet."
"There you guys are!" You swore your heart nearly jumped out of your chest at the sound of Armin's voice. He looked between you and Jean with curious eyes, though said nothing about why you were so close or why both of you were entirely flushed. Had he come even two minutes earlier he would have seen exactly what you were going. "Uh, you were taking a long time, Mikasa and I are headed out."
"Thanks, Armin," Jean became perfectly composed in seconds. He acted as if nothing just happened and this whole time you really were searching for his source. That kind of composure only came with practice - something Paradis_Finest would have lots of. "Took us forever to find this stupid book."
Armin glanced down to your neck that was likely littered with marks. Even if Jean made himself believable, the evidence was there. Nonetheless, he didn't question what you were up to - he'd already heard enough from Eren, the last thing he wanted was to hear more from Jean. The two would be in an all-out war for who did the best.
With a single nod, he left the two of you alone, a light pink color on his cheeks as he did so. There wasn't enough time for anything else, Armin already solved your lie and likely was on his way to tell Mikasa before they left the library. Jean's pleasure was one-sided, though it didn't seem like he minded at all.
If Jean was Paradis_Finest, you'd know in less than a week's time with a new video being uploaded. All you had to do, was wait. Or, if you were lucky enough, Jean would come crawling back for a second chance before any video was uploaded.
"Do I get my underwear back?"
"Not a chance."
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breadqueen95 · 5 months ago
Dress - Bucky Barnes
bucky barnes x fem!reader
wc: 5k
plot: bucky and y/n’s relationship is new, and they don’t want to share with their friends just yet. but something as simple as a dress can change anyone’s mind, even the winter soldier. 
content warnings: kissing. physical affection. flirting. allusions to sex. drinking. being drunk. language. bucky being a flirt. 
a/n: this is for @natasha-romancff and her taylor swift writing challenge! it took me awhile, but i’ve had a ton of fun writing this. so many bucky fics are angsty, and rightly so the man has some TRAUMA. but for my first bucky fic, based on dress by taylor swift, i wanted something happier for him 
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Damn. That was a lot of leg.
“I don’t know,” you muttered as you stared into the mirror, “aren’t these things…a little classier than this?”
“Uh…have you met Tony Stark?” Natasha grumbled as she continued to scroll through her phone. “The man has never been classy a day in his life.”
“Well I know he isn’t, but fancy people show up to these things. I just don’t want to embarrass myself.” You were currently standing in front of the full-length mirror in Wanda’s room, staring at the reflection of a woman who didn’t quite look like you.
But it was you, wasn’t it? It was just…that you was wearing a very short, very sexy red cocktail dress. The sweetheart neckline was a nice touch, but the back was completely open. And that hemline? Definitely hiked way up past your knees.
“Y/n, relax,” Wanda reassured in her lilting accent, “sure, the dress is a little…spicier…than you’re used to, but it’s in a good way.”
“I’m pretty sure every single person would be able to tell I spend my days in tactical gear. God, I’m not sure I even know how to walk in heels this high!”
Heaving a dramatic sigh, Natasha threw her phone down and looked at you in the mirror. Her eyebrows were raised, and she was giving you her usual ‘don’t give me that shit’ look. It nearly had you shaking in your very strappy black heels.
“Are you kidding me, y/n? I’ve seen you strut in enough fancy parties during undercover missions to know that you’ve got this.”
“Yeah,” Wanda scoffed as she took a sip of red wine from her glass, “all she’s nervous about is what Bucky will think.”
Rolling your eyes, you tried to hide how much that sentence affected you.
“C’mon, Wanda. You know Bucky and I are just friends.”
“Do friends undress each other with their eyes whenever they’re in the same room?”
Damn it. Damn Wanda and her stupid perceptiveness.
“You’re reading too much into it, Wanda.” She just laughed at you, acting like she knew so much better.
What you knew and wasn’t ready to admit to your two best friends, was that she was right on the money.
Bucky Barnes, the infamous Winter Soldier, your favorite person in the entire world, was now your boyfriend. He had been for a few weeks now. The two of you were insanely private people. Hell, it had been years before the two of you had finally learned everything about each other. Once you had gotten past the walls the other had so carefully crafted, well…
At that point you were in love.
But the others didn’t need to know that, not yet at least. The Avengers were a family, your family. They were really the only true family you’d ever had. But Bucky…Bucky was finally yours. And you were his. You didn’t think it was crazy to just want to enjoy that, just the two of you, without everyone else sharing their jokes and opinions just yet. They did it out of love, you both knew that, but you just wanted him all to yourself.
As you looked back at your reflection in the mirror, you took a minute to really consider what Bucky’s reaction might be. He had the best poker face in the room no matter who he was with, but you knew him well enough to know how he was feeling just based on his eyes. He’d always said how much he loved red on you, and he adored every and any excuse to touch your skin. Those steel blue eyes of his would absolutely burn once he saw you in this dress.
And fuck, that was something you really wanted to see.
“Well, if you aren’t going to wear that dress, you better pick something else,” Nat said, jerking you from your fantasies, “we need to be there in twenty minutes, and we all need to touch up our makeup.”
“Actually…I think I’ll wear it,” you said confidently, trying to hide your grin as you ran your hands down the silky fabric.
What you didn’t see was Natasha and Wanda sharing a secret smirk behind you, like they’d known what you’d do the whole time.
Six weeks ago, everything had changed for you and Bucky.
You’d known how you felt for a long time. Bucky Barnes, despite his past, was the kind of man anyone could fall in love with. He was sincere, kind, generous, witty…everything you’d ever wanted in a partner. He had been your best friend for even longer.
It had been a long time before you could even admit your feelings to yourself, let alone to him. After everything the two of you had been through, who had the time and mental capacity for romance? It just didn’t seem important. You just chalked up your feelings to being such close friends. All you wanted was to be near him, even if you just sat in silence doing different things. Just being in the same room as Bucky brought you a sort of peace you’d never had before. Whenever he touched you, even if it was just a brief hug or brushing your back to get past you, your skin erupted into goosebumps. But that was just because physical touch was still foreign to you, right?
And his smile. God, his wonderful smile…
Bucky didn’t smile much. He hid behind a mask of stoicism, a remnant from the trauma of his horrible history as the Winter Soldier. Showing any sort of emotion, especially happiness, was hard for him. But when he finally let himself smile? It was the most beautiful thing you’d ever see.        
It took several sleepless nights wrestling with those confusing feelings to figure it out. You didn’t just see Bucky as your best friend. You had it bad. Not just “oh my god he’s so handsome” bad, like the “I would take a bullet for you I’m so in love” bad. That revelation? It left you euphoric. It also left you scared.
Because you were so sure Bucky didn’t feel the same. And that thought was like a knife to the heart every time it flashed through your mind.
So you kept it to yourself. You tried to keep things as normal as possible, but your heart kept fluttering whenever he walked into a room. Being so close to Bucky meant you confided in each other about pretty much everything, and he knew you well enough to know you were hiding something.
It all exploded on a Tuesday night in the compound.
Tuesdays were your movie nights. Bucky had a lot of pop culture to catch up on, so on this night every week he would come by your room to watch a movie. It was a weekly tradition that kind of started by accident. You were shocked he still hadn’t made time to watch Lord of the Rings, so you forced him onto your couch with popcorn and The Fellowship of the Ring. He loved it so much, and immediately asked if you guys could watch The Two Towers the next week. How could you say no to him?
Tonight, you were watching 13 Going on 30. It was your all-time favorite romcom, and you figured you could both use a break from all the action and fantasy movies you’d been cycling through. Something with a happy ending was worth indulging in.
“Does that Matt guy look like Banner to you? Or is it just me?” Bucky asked through a mouthful of popcorn.
“Heh, maybe a little,” you said, “Give or take a few years.” He laughed at that, and you forced yourself to laugh quietly. You wanted to blurt out your feelings every time you looked at Bucky, so you’d gotten quieter and quieter every time you spent time with him. It was an awful reaction, and you knew he noticed. But it was better than losing his friendship, right?
After that awful and painfully obvious forced laugh, Bucky let out a huge sigh and paused the movie. He set the bowl of popcorn down on the coffee table in front of the couch, then turned to face you. Exasperation and hurt glimmered in his eyes.
“Y/n, what the fuck is going on with you?”
“W-what do you mean?”
“Oh come on, don’t give me that,” he said sharply, “I know you better than anyone, and I know for a fact there’s something you’re not telling me. Is it me? Did I do something wrong?”
“What? No, god no!” You exclaimed.
“Well it must be something I did, because you’ve never been this quiet around me and it keeps getting worse. I hate it, and I want to know what I did so I can fix it.”
“Bucky, I’m serious, it’s nothing you did—”
“Then why? Why are you shutting me out?” He cut you off angrily, arms thrown wide. “You’re my best friend, I just don’t get why—”
“I don’t want you like a best friend, Bucky!” Your eyes went wide as the words flew from your lips. In the most comical way, you clapped your hand over your mouth as if you could stop the words that had already been said. Bucky’s eyes narrowed in confusion.
Oh fuck. He didn’t get it. Curse him and his old man ways.
“What does that even mean, Y/n? Are you saying you don’t want me around anymore?”
“Bucky, of course not. God, I would never want that. Never in a million years.”
“Then you better explain, because if you haven’t noticed, I’m over 100 years old. I need a little help here.”
“It means, uh…um,” you stuttered, wringing your hands together. “Is there any chance we can just forget I said that?”
“Nope, not a chance.”
“It means…it means that I care about you. As more than a friend.”
His entire face seemed to crinkle as he processed that. If you weren’t freaking out, you’d be obsessing over how damn cute it made him look. Then his eyes got wide as he began to make the connection. Your stomach nearly fell out of your ass as his eyes lifted again to meet yours.
“I…I think I know what you’re saying,” he nearly whispered, “I just need you to get real specific real fast, because I’m not about to say anything until I know exactly what you mean.”
“It means I’m in love with you, okay?” You burst out. Even through your mortification, there was a sudden sense of relief. A secret as big as that had definitely been weighing you down. Now that it was out there, that was one less thing you had to worry about.
His eyes grew even wider. How that was possible, you didn’t even know. That beautiful mouth of his began to turn up into a small smile as he gazed softly at you.
“You’re in love with me?” He asked, his smile getting wider with each passing second.
“What, you need it carved into stone or something?” You couldn’t help but sass him. Did you fucking stutter?
“No, it’s just…I never thought you’d feel that way about me.”
“Well, clearly I do. So you – wait, you mean you’ve thought about this before?”
“Of course I have,” he said as he shrugged, “I’ve been in love with you for two years now, how could I not think about it?”
You were instantly filled with warmth and pure bliss. In all your obsessing over your own feelings, you’d never allowed yourself to consider that he might feel the same about you. It just didn’t seem possible.
“I’m sorry,” you burst out, holding a hand up, “you’re telling me you’ve been into me for two years and didn’t say anything?”
“Why didn’t you?” He shot back, inching closer to you.
“Because you’re my best friend. I didn’t want to lose you because of stupid feelings I have.”
“But…I have those same ‘stupid feelings’ for you. So can we just cut the whole act and get on with it?” Bucky brought a hand up to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing along your skin so gently.
“Uh…um…get on with what?”
“Well I’d kinda like to kiss you, if you’re cool with it.”
“Bucky Barnes did you just use current slang to ask if you could kiss me?” You didn’t move an inch as his face moved right in front of yours, breath intermingling as you gazed into each other’s eyes. God, was this really happening?
“Yeah, guess your lessons worked,” he murmured.
“Well you better kiss me, then.”
As soon as your lips met, it was like coming home.
That memory, your favorite memory, replayed in your head as the three of you stepped into the elevator. Nat and Wanda were happily chatting about who would be there, what kind of antics Tony would cook up tonight, if there would be music we could actually dance to. You know, normal party things.
All you could think about was how long you had to stay until you could sneak off with your boyfriend.
You were so happy Wanda and Natasha had convinced you to wear this dress. When you’d first put it on, the difference from your normal look was so jarring that it took you a few minutes to get used to it. But now that you had, now that you felt the silky fabric shifting against your skin as you moved, now that you saw how dangerously long your legs looked in these heels…
Damn, you felt sexy.
And that sexy feeling? It made you want Bucky’s hands all over you.
But this was a party. A party thrown by Tony Stark, one of the most perceptive and observant people you’d ever met. If you left too soon, if he thought you weren’t “having enough fun”, he’d be more than a little upset. So you had to stay, drink, mingle, maybe dance a little…and then, maybe later, you could go do what you actually wanted.
The elevator pinged, indicating you had reached the topmost floor of the compound. This floor was home to a huge communal space, often used for just hanging out with the team. But on nights like tonight, Tony went all out and turned the space into something that resembled…a club?
The three of you stepped out into the massive room, upbeat music already blasting from the speakers. Typical Tony – he never really outgrew his love for dancing and parties. The bass thrummed through your body, making you want to move to the music. The lights were dim, but you could still tell who was around. It looked like you were some of the last members of the team to arrive. There was a huge bar off to the side, and Natasha headed that way right away. You turned to ask Wanda if she wanted to follow Nat, but she was already making a beeline for Vision. Smiling, you just turned right back around to follow Natasha. A drink sounded pretty good right now.
As you made your way to the bar, you felt more than a few pairs of eyes on you as you walked. You sneakily looked around as you went, noticing men and women watching you with admiration, and dare you say it, longing. As someone whose job was to blend in with the background all the time, this was a different and slightly addictive feeling. You leaned on the bar next to Nat right as the bartender slid her drink over to her.
“Straight whiskey tonight? Damn, going hard.” You quipped.
“Hey now, you know I can handle my liquor. It’s you we need to watch out for, you lightweight.”
Laughing, you scanned the party guests, looking for the one person you wanted to see. Tony had had arm around Pepper’s waist, both laughing at something Rhodey had said. Bruce lingered around them, drink in hand and looking a little nervous, but still happy to be included. Wanda and Vision were sitting quietly on one of the couches, both looking absolutely smitten with each other. Scott Lang, one of the newest additions, was busting some moves, while Peter Parker laughed as he watched. Thor, who was visiting from Asgard, laughed boisterously as he watched various guests try to lift his hammer. You couldn’t help the smile growing on your face. You loved these people so much.
Then, you saw him.
Bucky was with Sam and Steve, as usual. But even as Sam and Steve were talking animatedly next to him, those gorgeous blue eyes of his were glued to you. There was a kind of intensity in them you hadn’t seen before. Your breath whooshed from you body as he grinned at you. Trying to maintain the suggestive image your dress gave you, you managed to send a flirtatious smile his way, then turned back around to face the bar. Leaning against the counter, you knew he’d get an eyeful of your bare back. God, this was fun.
The bartender finally made his way over to you, and you ordered two tequila shots.
Nat turned to you, one eyebrow arched in surprise as she asked, “And you say I’m going hard? You can’t just down two shots right away, babe.”
“I’m not doing two shots; you think I’m stupid?” The bartender slid the shots over to you along with two lime wedges. “One is clearly for you.”
Unable to hold back a laugh, Natasha put her arm around your shoulders and pulled you into her side as she said, “Why the fuck not, let’s do it.” The two of you went through the process: salt, shot, lime. You couldn’t help but wince as you downed the harsh liquor. Of all the shots in the world, tequila probably tasted the worst. The only reason you kept going for it was the warmth it traced down your body, and you felt your muscles begin to loosen up.
“Two more,” you called over to the bartender.
“Uh, no,” Natasha shot at you, grabbing her whiskey, and pushing off the bar, “I’m good with my top shelf shit, you keep going after that gasoline if you want but I’m out.”
“C’mon, Nat,” you called out, “what am I gonna do with two shots?”
“I’m sure you’ll find someone else, babe.” She said with a wave over her shoulder.
Sighing, you turned back to the ridiculously pretty bar (seriously, how much had Tony paid for this thing?). Who else would help you look cool and sexy at a bar for your secret boyfriend?
Okay, that was the cringiest thought you’d ever had. Gross.
As the bartender slid the tequila in front of you, you steeled yourself for the nastiness that was about to happen.
“Fuck, I didn’t think this through,” you mumbled.
“Yeah, you tend to do that,” a deep voice answered on your right. Instead of being the slightest bit surprised, you couldn’t help but smile. You’d know that voice anywhere.
“Something I can do for you, Barnes?” You looked up at him from under your lashes.
“Well, it looks like you’ve got an extra shot there. Thought I could bail you out.”
“Is that all?”
Bucky shifted so that your arms were just barely touching. His hand was right next to yours, and you reached out with your pinky to lightly brush his.
“Doll, you have the gall to show up in that dress and ask what I want as if you don’t already know?”
“Sorry Buck, I’m a little slow, must be the tequila. You should probably be a little clearer.”
Putting on quite the show of reaching for one of the shots, his mouth somehow ended up right next to your ear.
“I want you.”
It was lucky everyone was so distracted and couldn’t see how you shuddered at his words. Trying to maintain brain function, you managed to take the shot with him. You were now fully facing each other. He was wearing the cockiest smirk you’d ever seen, one that would put Tony Stark to shame. You couldn’t help but respond with that same energy despite the jitteriness his three little words had reduced you to.
“Well why don’t you—”
“Hello, my friends!” A booming voice sounded between you as Thor threw a huge arm over each of you. Bucky, with his stupid super soldier strength, didn’t really have a reaction to it. You, on the other hand, stumbled a little under the weight and force of it. “It’s so good to be back with you tiny humans.”
Was…was he slurring his words?
“Thor…are you drunk right now?”
He simply laughed in response. Well, that answered that.
“Of course I am, tiny person! It can’t be a party without good Asgardian wine.”
“Wait…you have literal god wine?” Bucky, who had a look of vague irritation on his face up to this point, now looked interested. Maybe even a little excited?
“Of course, metal appendage.”
“Dude, you can’t just call Bucky ‘metal appendage’—”
“He can if he lets me have some,” Bucky interrupted.
“We have a bargain!” Thor slapped Bucky on the back before scurrying back over to where he had come from, probably to get the wine he had promised.
“Bucky, you can’t even get drunk,” you hissed, “what exactly is the point of this?”
“Since everything happened, I haven’t found any alcohol strong enough to get me drunk. I figure god wine is worth a shot.”
“When I kiss you against a wall later, I wanna be a little tipsy,” he whispered in your ear, “that cool with you?”
Unable to keep yourself from smiling again, you nodded as Thor sauntered back over. Ever since that moment a few weeks ago, right before he kissed you for the first time, asking “is that cool with you?” had become your thing.
And the idea of Bucky kissing you against a wall? Yeah, that sounded pretty good.
As it turns out, Asgardian wine is just as potent as Thor had promised.
For the first time in over seventy years, Bucky Barnes was certifiably drunk. It made him feel like the Bucky from all those years ago, and it was the most incredible thing. Here he was, over 100 years old, partying, and all his favorite people were here.
Including his ridiculously hot girlfriend.
Even as they both flitted around the party, Bucky and y/n still found each other’s eyes, even from across the room. They would send winks, smiles, even funny faces. All he wanted to do was be right next to her, talk and dance with her all night…
But they had agreed. They wanted to keep their relationship a secret for now, keep the attention off of them for a bit while they got to know each other in this new way.
But god damn, that dress.
Y/n in red was…indescribable. It didn’t matter what she wore, she was always the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. But in red? In this dress?
She was breathtaking.
“Buck, you breathing?”
A hand waved in front of his face, snapping Bucky’s attention back to the people around him from Y/n’s back. He had been imagining putting his hands all over that back later and had gotten more than a little mesmerized. He managed to get his eyes to refocus, finding a drunk Sam smirking right next to him and an even drunker Steve dancing next to him. But what Steve was doing couldn’t really be called ‘dancing’ per say…more like an aggressive wiggle.
“Why wouldn’t I be breathing?” Of all the things he could’ve said to get Sam’s attention off of him, that wasn’t it.
“Uh, probably because the girl you’re in love with decided to show up and show off tonight? Pretty sure you’re drooling, man.”
Despite himself, Bucky slapped a hand across his mouth, only reducing Sam to wheezing laughter. Knowing he had been caught, he rolled his eyes and grimaced a little. Of all the people to catch him, he wished it hadn’t been Sam.
“I wasn’t…staring… at y/n, I just never see her dressed up is all.”
“I never said anything about the girl being y/n.”
“LANGUAGE,” Steve yelled out, pointing a finger at his two friends before returning to his shimmying.
Turning back to him, Sam added, “Just go be with her, Buck. You’re not fooling anyone, and neither is she.”
“We’re that obvious?”
“A few weeks ago you’d at least try to hide it. Now I’m surprised you’re not jumping each other’s bones right here right now.”
“Point taken,” Bucky said, lightly slapping Sam’s shoulder before power walking over to his girl.
“Nat, if you don’t stop asking about Bucky and I’s relationship, I’m going to kick you,” you called over the music before taking another swig from your glass. It was no Asgardian wine, but the human stuff wasn’t half bad in your opinion. It wasn’t like you could drink the god shit, anyway. If you had even one sip, you’d be swinging from the ceiling like Miley fucking Cyrus. You were pretty drunk as it was.
“Okay, fine,” she said with a shrug as she took a sip of her whiskey, still as calm and collected as ever. “You’re almost as drunk as he is, you’ll be talking soon enough.”
“Oh? Is that your spy master plan?”
Natasha was still looking as unbothered as ever, but as she looked across the room over your shoulder, her face split into a savage grin.
“It was, but it looks like I might not need it.”
“What do you me—”
Your words were cut off as a large, warm hand enclosed around yours. Whirling around, you were suddenly face to face with the man himself. Bucky was clearly having a good time. His mouth was relaxed into the cutest smile you’d ever seen him wear, and he moved without his normal stiffness and intensity. He threaded your fingers together, smiling down at you with so much love it was a wonder Nat hadn’t said anything yet.
Looking back in front of you, ready to explain yourself, you only found empty air. Guess she’d seen all she needed to, but honestly, you really didn’t care. All you’d wanted the whole night was to be exactly where you were right now; hand in hand with the man you loved.
“We’re just kidding ourselves, doll,” Bucky called next to your ear, “Sam said we’ve been pretty obvious.”
“Nat said the same,” you answered with a sheepish smile, “kind of hard to keep my face under control when you’ve got that leather jacket on.”
“You’re blaming me?” He asked with mock indignation. “You’re the one who looks,” he gestured wildly to your whole body, “like that!”
Trying ignore the heat spreading over your cheeks, you shot back, “Like what?”
“Like the most…” he screwed his face up in the most adorable way as he searched for words, “like the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.” As the last few words tumbled out of his mouth, he gazed at you with such a softness you almost melted right into the floor.
“Wanna get out of here?” You asked, finally giving up the game. It was pointless, really. Now, all you wanted to do was for your boyfriend to keep his promise and kiss you against a wall.
Wrapping an arm around your waist, he answered, “Absolutely.” Without looking at a single soul, the two of you began walking as quickly as you could for the exit. You and Bucky were both leaning on each other a bit, but you wouldn’t have it any other way.
Stepping out into the light of the hallway, you blinked as your eyes adjusted after the dark room you’d spent the last few hours in. Bucky led you until you were right in front of the elevator, and he lazily pressed the button to go up. There was tension in the air between you, like a thread that was being pulled. Biting your lip, you stared at the doors in front of you. You knew if you so much as looked at the man next to you, you’d jump him right then and there.
The shining doors slid open, and the pair of you walked in, his strong arm still around your waist. His grip wasn’t loose in any sense of the word. Bucky kept you right next to him, even as your legs wanted to drift all over the place. You pressed the button for the residential floor.
As soon as those doors slid shut, that thread of tension snapped.
Bucky whirled you to face him, then walked you backward until you were pressed against the wall of the elevator.
“I promised I’d kiss you against the wall, didn’t I?”
He didn’t even wait for a response. His mouth was on yours in an instant, lips moving together like a dance. The kiss was slow and unhurried. You tried to bring him closer, linking your hands behind his neck and pressing yourself to him. Instead of responding in kind, he unwound your arms from around him and pinned them above your head.
Oh damn.
No complaints here.
“You’ve been teasin’ me all night just by wearing that dress, sweetheart,” he murmured in between the kisses he trailed down your jaw, “I think it’s my turn.”
“Would it change your mind knowing I only wore this dress so you could take it off?”
The heat that bloomed in those blue eyes of his was unmistakable. As the doors opened on your floor, he swept you up into his arms and began to walk purposefully to his apartment. All the while, he kept that signature cocky smirk of his you’d come to adore.
“Bucky?” You asked once he’d walked into his unit.
“That sentence was the single most attractive thing you’ve ever said,” he murmured as he set you down. Even still, he kept you pressed against him. “But nah, I’m a patient guy. I think I’ll take my time.” He followed this by resuming his slow and sensual kisses, and you couldn’t help but melt into them.
“I love you,” you whispered against his lips.
“I’ll never get tired of hearing that, doll. I love you too.”
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achillieus · 6 months ago
let you down. (sebastian stan x reader)
summary: it's a universal truth but it's worth repeating; feelings eat us raw. or just an actor and a girl falling in and out of love over the course of three months.
(this was inspired by sebastian's visit to greece for his movie, monday, and is based on that, so that means in the story we’re in 2018. also i have this posted on ao3 too but while i’m writing the last parts i thought of posting it here too)
pairing: sebastian stan x reader
warnings: alcohol, sexual references, implied depression, don’t kill me because of the ending, sebastian and reader are the definition of right person wrong time, it's kinda slowburn because i love the yearning, also this part has some funny moments but overall it’s a big SOB
part: 6/6 (there will also be an epilogue)
(other parts)   (masterlist)
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This is how it ends: broken hearts from crashed dreams.
Sebastian holds you until his muscles ache and your lungs burn from the feeling of too little oxygen. It is cold and dark, almost midnight, too dark, a starless night.
No more stars for you and I.
“Here,” Voice hoarse, eyes heavy-lid and itching from almost crying. He gives you one of the rings he wore in the movie. “I want you to keep this.”
Keep it close to your heart. Forget me not.
He takes a breath and a step back, tries to regain all the strength he still has, steady feet and shoulders fixed. He digs his nails into his palms, red marks in his skin, air catching in his throat, he’s on the verge of falling but he stays standing.
He remembers tears glistening down his cheeks, maybe they were yours not his, and the cold autumn wind hitting his face and he remembers feeling like he’s dying.
And then he closes the door of Argyris’ car and looks at you.
And his heart stretches and stretches and stretches and then somehow splits in half.
It goes like this:
There’s a ghost that lives in your apartment from now on. In the living room. Sitting on the couch. And it has steel blue eyes and a familiar heart. And it whispers a love story, half-finished, and you cannot make it stop.
The ghost touches your collarbone and he’s gone but there’s a ring in a golden chain around your neck and a white shirt forgotten in your laundry. And it smells like him. The clinging scent of his aftershave sticking to your pores. Eucalyptus. And no matter how hard you try to wash it off, it still lingers.
How could I ever forget someone like you?
The ghost lives here, but the place is empty, so empty. And it’s hard not to cry.
Sebastian calls and texts a lot.
He tells you he’s tired but excited because he started filming a new movie. It’s very indie and experimental, I can’t wait for you to see it. He tells you he’s missing his days in Greece like hell and that one night he dreamt of you. Didn’t want to wake up. What he doesn’t tell you is that he’s coming back in a month, Argyris needs him for some extra scenes. It’s nearly killing him but he doesn’t tell you. He wants to surprise you, see the pure light in your eyes when they’ll meet his.
You try sexting. It doesn’t go very well.
23:50, sebastian: if you were here in my bed right now what would you be doing
06:51, you: probably falling asleep hahaha
06:51, you: oh fuck was i supposed to sext back
06:51, you: sorry seb i just woke up and i have a class in an hour, love you <3
23:52, sebastian: fuck timezones
(three weeks and 10 seconds later)
“I can’t believe she doesn’t know you’re here,” Argyris shakes his head as he’s driving home from the airport, “If I were her, I’d kill you.”
“Good thing I didn’t fall in love with you.”
Sebastian laughs and looks out of the car window. The stars. There are so many stars tonight. He holds his breath; he’s finally feeling whole again. His heart isn’t split in two anymore.
You don’t know how long you stand there at your door, staring at him, but it feels like a century before he grins, almost laughs, takes your hands in his and you start considering that perhaps this isn’t a hallucination. Perhaps it’s real.
Something inside of you bursts, your organs twitch. You can’t think, you can’t speak, but you can move. You don’t lose any more time, you take a step forward, attach your bodies, your face buried in his neck, your fingers clutching into the rough fabric of his jacket. You breathe him in like an antidote.
“Does it matter?”
You kiss him and it’s like poetry, like art, like honey and you can’t separate yourself from him, not even hours later.
(looking back, these were the golden days)
You pretending to be mad at him for not telling you he was coming back and him pressing his lips on your skin, drawing patterns on your naked shoulder. A feathery touch.
Sebastian always touches you like you’re something made of gold and porcelain, something cherished that constantly needs to be treasured. And nobody has done that before. And you love him for it.
You try to decorate your Christmas tree together. He messes with the lights for a while, eventually gives up and goes on to eat too many reindeer shaped cookies.
He massages your muscles when you write a boring essay for college.
You go with him when he has to shoot a “driving a motorcycle naked in the centre of Athens” scene and you bite the inside of your cheeks to stop smiling like an idiot.
He gives you a dress he bought for you in New York.  
“You didn’t have to.”
“I know, but I wanted to.”
He calls you sweetheart in the mornings, still half asleep and later joins you in the shower.
“Why are you so hot?”
“Climate change”
“Oh, shut up”
It’s tender and it’s soft and it’s human.
And that’s the saddest part.
Soon you realize that him leaving two months ago was merely a rehearsal and you still haven’t said your actual goodbyes. Your chest starts to feel as if it’s full of crushed glass.
And it’s ridiculous because you fell in love with Sebastian sometime between the first ten days you spent together.
Who falls in love in ten days?  
Ridiculous or not, you know you are in love with him just as you know that sooner or later, whatever he is feeling will fade and wither. Maybe it’ll be in a week, maybe it’ll be in a month, maybe in a year if you’re lucky. But there will definitely come a day when he will step out of a gala or a party or a fancy gym in New York with a beautiful model in his arms and two paparazzi’s following him around.
What will you be then?
A past small cameo in his life. A side character. Will he remember your name?
He is your whole world.
(a bottle of cheap prosecco helps you decide that)
He is your whole world.
And yet, there will come a day when he won’t even remember your name.
It was difficult. No, it was the most difficult thing you’ve ever done. Telling him how you think it’d be better if you didn’t talk after he leaves.
“I don’t agree with this.”
“Seb, it’s for the best.”
Your body doesn’t feel strong enough to carry your heart. And you’re certain it will only get worse once he’s away. The world around you will melt. You’ll obsess over a phone screen and his messages. You’ll start chasing ghosts again. You can’t handle that.
“Why?” He says urgently and his fingers dance over the flesh of your palms.
“Because this”, you motion your hand between the two of you, “is the most beautiful thing I’ve ever had in my life and I don’t want it to become ugly.”
He nods, he understands.
“I love you, you know,” he says smiling and tugs you closer to him, “And I may not be here to show you but I think I’ll love you for a long time.”
Your hand grips his waist right to the bones and something flares in your eyes, something wild that wrenches you around.
“I know, I’ll love you the same.”
“Maybe we’ll meet again.”
“Only if I’m the luckiest girl on the planet.”
He laughs and you look at him, fully aware he’ll be ripped out of your life like a page from a cheap leather notebook. And when you kiss for the last time, there’s a hole forming in your soul.
And just because endings don’t leave visible scars to one’s body and soul, that doesn’t mean the scars don’t exist. You know they do, because you feel the aching pain of every single one of them.
(every night when you close your eyes you see him)
(every night you look at the stars and think of him)
A month passes and Argyris asks you if you miss him.
“I don’t think I’ll ever stop.”
“He said the exact same thing.”
You tell him not to mention Sebastian again.
Two months pass and you need to stop stalking his instagram profile.
Three months pass and you almost text him.
Four months pass and you go to watch Endgame with some friends and you cry. You cry when Black Widow sacrifices herself and when Iron Man smiles at his wife while dying, and when Bucky Barnes appears on screen.
The others don’t understand and you don’t blame them.
Five months pass and Argyris’ girlfriend wants you to meet someone. A charming boy your age with blonde hair and a lip piercing.
And he's cute but you compare him to Sebastian even before he has the chance to say his name. His eyes are not the right shade of blue and he doesn’t look at you like you’re made of the world’s finest jewel.
And he doesn’t know any constellation names.
And then more than a year passes in a second and you learn to not look for him. Not anymore.
It’s early March 2020 and despite the rising fear of the upcoming pandemic, you’re doing well. Scars are starting to fade. And after spending two weeks in Prague, your best friend being there with an exchange program, Sebastian Stan is the farthest thing from your mind.
Until he literally comes crashing into you. At the airport.
No, it can’t be him.
You have your suitcase on one hand and a bottle of antiseptic gel on the other. He has two bodyguards on his sides and a black hoodie on.  And while half of his face is hidden behind a mask, you can see his eyes perfectly. A frozen lake in December. You would know those eyes in your deathbed, at the end of the world.
Your vision gets blurry and suddenly you feel cold.
He won’t recognize me, he can’t.
But then he looks at you and every memory you had buried inside of you resurfaces.
He motions to his guards to wait for him and he starts walking towards you. You breathe slowly, one breath at a time. He takes his mask off and you hesitate to take yours, not sure if you truly want him to see you.
You exchange the typical and very awkward hi, how are you, i’m glad you’re doing okay and then he smiles and it feels comfortable. Familiar.
It’s the whiff of another time that you always kept around. A reminder that you were once loved by a god.
“What are you doing here?”
“Filming Falcon and the Winter Soldier”
If you hadn’t unfollowed him on instagram, you’d known.
“Ah yes I heard about that, congrats.”
He nods a thank you.
“And you? In Prague?”
“I was at a friend.”
He looks conflicted, hurt, turns his gaze to his shoes on the grey cement. You want to say something, but you feel like throwing up.
And then he laughs.
“I was right.”
You’re confused, he notices.
“Back in Greece,” he swallows, “I told you this would happen.”
“It would have been an airport, different gates for each of us, but same waiting hall. Or a Greek island, where we’d both be for the summer.”
“I would have found you.”
You remember and you cannot help but smile. He was right. He found you.
“I didn’t believe you then.”
I barely believe you now.
He touches your hair. And his touch is like a knife. And you want to cry. Magnolias under your tongue. A love long lost is whispering in your ears until it hurts to listen. He’s like a magnetic field and you feel yourself drowning in him.
“I bet they’ll ask me a hundred questions about you later.” He says and looks at the two men waiting for him.
“And what will you tell them?”
“That you’re most probably the love of my life.”
Don’t cry, don’t cry.
“There’s no way we’d meet here if you’re not.”
“Sebastian,” His name sounds like a prayer coming out of your lips and you're ready to tell him you love him and you can swear he looks like he’s ready to faint, “I-”
The guards yell his name. And it's the same feeling people have just before a car crash.
“I’m sorry, I have to go.”
One last look.
Don’t cry, don’t cry.
You repeat it over and over again. But you fail.
“No, don't cry” He smiles, one last smile, “Just look at the stars and wait for us to meet again, because we will.”
He caresses the back of your palm for a second and you think your ribcage is shattering but it’s only your heart drumming frantically. Pushing your fragile bones to break. 
You want to stop him, wrap your arms around his torso, never let him go. Not again. But you don’t.
You just watch him leave, one more time, your knees weak, your head heavy and dizzy. For the split of a moment he turns and glances at you but then he’s nowhere to be seen.
Perhaps it was all in your imagination. Perhaps it was nothing but a wonder.
You get into your plane and you silently sob.
And then it’s summer.
And you overhear he was seen with a girl, the day before your vacation starts and you find a picture of them together a week later, a pretty blonde girl clinging to his side with a colorful bikini somewhere in Spain. And he’s smiling. And you feel so ashamed. And so stupid.
They say time heals all wounds but they must be wrong because you can’t forget how he used to smile at you or how he used to call you the love of his life.
Was he joking when he said you'll meet again? You bet if you asked him now, he wouldn't even remember saying it.
I’ll love you for a long time.
So long for nothing.
i really appreciate feedback, it motivates me tons and also tell me if you’d like to be tagged :) also i’m really sorry if you asked me to tag you and i didn’t  but i lost a lot of asks and the urls of the people that sent them :( 
tagging: @lharrietg @awkward117 @dannaloureen @broccoligf @cutestfangirlvevo @caitdaniels @arymb @buckybarnesishot310 @roguesthetic @itsaliceheree @sara-1705 @dorothea-hwldr @freshfreakoaftrash @drinkfantasy @christinamcdonnell ​@partypoison00 ​ @90ssantiago
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donutloverxo · 8 months ago
Just for Mrs Barber
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Note - Written for @chrissquares @drabblewithfrannybarnes and @amythedvdhoarder 's hoelentine's fic swap challenge! My giftee was the beautiful @kaminorogers . I hope you all like it.
Shoutout to beard kinks resident hoe @sweater-daddiesdumbdork for all her help with this and to my dear friend lizzygal (link to ao3) for the beta.
Dividers by @whimsicalrogers.
Summary - Your husband buys you kinky gifts (and a whole ass house) for your anniversary/valentines.
Warnings - 18+ only please! Explicit sexual content, beard kink, bondage, blindfold, dom!Andy.
Pairing - Andy Barber x reader
Word count - 2.6k
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You were sure you heard Linda say something, her voice was mixed up in the background noise of everyone chatting and some music. You couldn’t really listen, not when your husband decided that he was going to look that good and distract you, keeping you from being a good hostess.
Andy always looked good. He could roll out of bed and look good enough to eat—although maybe you were a bit biased. He was one of those people who just didn’t realize how handsome he was.
Maybe he had some sort of eyesight problem, because looking at him now. With his hair made up and beard neatly trimmed, wearing a cream sweater and some dark jeans, the whole ensemble was so basic but he pulled it off so well. His pink lips looked so delicious as they sipped on a beer.
“Mrs Barber.”
You gasped when you heard Linda call out to you, clearing your throat you looked back at her. “Yes?”
“I love what you’ve done with the house, it’s so beautiful.”
A genuine smile graced your face as you thanked her. Andy had asked you what you wanted for your first wedding anniversary, you nonchalantly told him that you wanted the most picture perfect and cosy house in the suburbs. That you were too tired of the noise and pollution of the city and longed to have a garden of your own.
Also, a bigger house would be much better if you ever have any youngins. But you didn’t tell him that. Not yet.
You were just being yourself--kind of a spoilt brat. Which shouldn’t have surprised him because he was the one to spoil you with his love and affection and the occasional material gifts.
You absolutely did not expect him to actually buy you a big ass house. It wasn’t too big if you thought about it. Just a master and two smaller bedrooms, which was what you preferred. You didn’t want to have any distance from your husband. Be it physical or emotional.
The backyard was most spacious. You could probably fit a beautiful gazebo there. But you planned on growing your own vegetables and make delicious meals as a thank you to Andy everyday for the rest of your lives. You had put your heart into decorating every single nook and cranny of the house. Having it be appreciated was most flattering.
“Thank you,” you smiled.
“Your husband is so handsome,” she observed and you only hummed as you looked over at him. He most definitely was. “And he helped you with cooking and setting up.”
“Yes, he did. He always helps. He isn’t one for parties but he indulged me by letting me throw this one,” you told her.
Andy wasn’t that enthusiastic about hosting a barbeque for neighbors who were basically still strangers for your anniversary/valentines. He preferred to have you to himself but with some kisses and cuddles, batting your brand-new eyelash extensions, and convincing he finally gave in.
“Mrs Barber,” Linda grinned, putting her hand on your elbow, “You’re drooling.”
“Oh, I am?” you quickly looked over at her, after admiring how perfect your husband’s ass looked in those damn jeans.
“That’s alright, I promise I won’t tell,” she winked, “you’re both so cute.”
You were gushing some more about Andy, how amazing he was and how the honeymoon phase never seemed to end for you both. But you straightened up when you saw him approaching you.
“Honey,” he said, “We’re out of ice.”
“Oh, I thought we had enough... I’m sure we could do without it,” you shrugged.
Andy snaked a hand around your waist, sipping on his beer as he looked down at you, so much more comfortable by your side. He frowned when he heard the guys calling for him, reluctant to leave your side but you nudged him and told him to go socialise.
“I’ll make it worth your while, later tonight,” you whispered to him.
He pressed his lips to your temple, the scratch of his beard against your skin making you gasp. “I’ll hold you to that,” he said against your face which was heating up by his uncharacteristic public display of affection.
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After cleaning up you were finally getting ready for bed. Wiping your make up before taking your diamond studs off.
“We made so many friends too,” you wondered out loud. “It was a success in my book! I hope I was a good hostess.”
“Don’t worry, sweetheart, you were. Come here now.” You saw him in your dressing tables mirror, extending an arm to you and inviting you to him.
“Um, well, maybe give me a moment,” you stammered, heat creeping up your neck as you scurried off to the bathroom while he called out for you.
He frowned, you never had any problem changing clothes in front of him or being naked and in so many compromising positions before him, so why now?
“Honey, I appreciate this, I really do, but.. maybe we can just do something else,” he told you, holding onto your hand which was massaging his shoulder and kissing your knuckles. He thought it was nice of you to offer a back rub, after the day he had had he needed it, but he wanted something more than that... “I’m hungry,” he licked his lips.
“I can cook something up for you, a post-dinner snack maybe,” you offered.
“No baby,” he chuckled, “Hungry for YOU.”
He kissed the crook of your neck, sucking on a spot he knew drove you wild but then frowned when he didn’t get the reaction he desired from you, in fact you felt a little... stiff.
“What’s wrong, sweetheart?” he looked into your eyes.
“I was actually wondering if we could try something new...”
“Like what?” he pouted. He was a bit concerned, whenever you both had tried something new, it didn’t really go well.
There was that time you slipped and sprained your ankle during a very taxing session in the shower, when you surprised him at his office but then you were caught by his assistant—to this day he still can’t look her in the eye, when you insisted on tying him up but he ended up breaking free of the cuffs and spending the night ravaging you instead.
His unenthusiastic response was clearly not what you wanted as you blinked, disappointed evident on your face, “Nothing,” you shook your head, “now, where were we?” a salacious grin on your lips.
He hadn’t really tried to press on to see what your new suggestion was. He knew he wasn’t the most interesting man in the world. He wasn’t always as easy going as you were. How he even managed to get someone like you was something he could never comprehend.
“Are you ready for your surprise, baby,” came your voice from the master bathroom, “Here I come.”
You twirled before him, showing off your brand new fiery red babydoll. Which cost a pretty penny since it was the season of love.
“Whoa, you look gorgeous... what did I ever do to deserve you...” he wondered as his gaze raked you over.
“It’s actually the other way around,” you waved him off, climbing on the bed, “It’s time for your gift, Mr Barber.”
You took the book he was reading from his hands, setting it beside him and he hummed as you kissed his cheek.
“Actually...” he held onto the curve of your hips, squeezing just a little bit.
“I have a surprise for you, sweetheart.”
That got your attention. You pulled away from his face, your soft lips still tingling from the coarseness of the hair on his face. “Oh?” Your heart fluttering in excitement. “You didn’t have to. You already bought us a home...” You said in a small voice, your fingers playing with the collar of his t-shirt.
“Oh, believe me, honey, it’s not just for you,” he smirked.
You watched, your fingers drumming along your bare thigh in anticipation as he went through his dresser.
“Since you want to try new things,” he said with his back to you, pulling something out of the dresser, “I figured this might be the perfect opportunity.”
You gasped when you saw, what looked like was a red silk tie and a dark blindfold.
“Wow.” Was all you could say. You had tried to get Andy to watch fifty shades with you and while he didn’t really say it, you knew that he wasn’t really into the movie or the kinky sex. He could barely stay down when you used cute pink fluffy handcuffs on him.
“I hope you can be a good girl for me,” his eyes dark as he stalked towards you, “and stay still. You never do... I always have to hold you down so this should make things easier... hands,” he commanded, his authoritative tone leaving no room for disobedience, as you held your hands out for him, gulping a lump of air and watching his hands tie an intricate knot around your wrists.
“It’s soft...” You wiggled your wrists testing the ties strength.
“Of course it is, I want you to be comfortable, princess,” he kissed your forehead, smoothing a hand over your scalp, he looked at the blindfold and then at you, “It’ll be kinda hard for me to not look into your eyes,” his brow furrowed as he put the blindfold over your head, the elastic stretching and then settling behind your ears till you all you could see was black, “Let me know if you need me to stop... or if you need anything.”
“Yes,” you nodded, pouting when you heard him pulling his tshirt off. You were so excited about the dirty sex that you didn’t even think about this--not being able to see Andy naked. You were about to whine about it but he pushed you back till you were lying on the mattress.
“This is all so exciting...” you whispered, having no idea what he was doing or was about to do, if he was looking at you or elsewhere.
“I know, honey, now you just let me take care of you.” You nodded, shivering when you felt the coolness of his wedding band against your thigh, “Sorry baby, are my hands cold?”
“Just a bit...”
You heard him rubbing them together to heat them up for you, before he touched your inner thigh, parting your thighs to make room for him, he pushed your nightie up, exposing your breasts and stiff peaks to him, “So beautiful... and all for me.”
“All for you, Andy,” you tried to close your legs to rub them together, to create some friction to calm the heat between your legs but his hold on you wouldn’t leave you any room to move.
“You need something, honey? You’ll have to use your words to tell me.”
You huffed, although you couldn’t see him you just knew he had a shit eating grin on his face. “Want you to make love to me, Andy,” you fessed up anyway.
“That’s exactly what I’m doing though. This is how I make love, honey,” you gasped as you felt his warm mouth latching on your nipple, his leaking manhood on your thigh.
“Oh...” you tried to arch your back, to pushed more of you into him.
He released your nipple with a pop, “You like that?”
He had never seen you like this, never knew he wanted you like this--so helpless and completely at his mercy. Writhing under him and craving him so badly, snaking a hand between your legs, “You’re so wet, honey,” he observed as he spread your slick around your lips, pulling a desperate whimper from you.
He sucked his fingers clean, you tasted so sweet, like honey.
He pinned your tied hands above your head when you tried to raise them to touch him, “No baby, you know the rules for tonight. I thought you wanted to be my good girl.”
“I do!” you whimpered again, your body shaking and writhing in his hold.
His poor girl, he knew how hard it must be for you. How you were obsessed with his beard. Sometimes He wondered if you loved it more than you loved him. He hadn’t shaved it off since he had met you.
“Then stay still, and you will be rewarded,” he promised you, pushing a finger inside you as he rubbed his beard against your sensitive nipples which seemed to set you off.
“Oh god,” you shrieked but didn’t dare move your arms.
He trailed kisses down your stomach, on your belly button, before settling between your legs and staring at your bare, glistening cunt.
“All this for me?” he wondered again, he didn’t need for you to answer, you were tied up and presented before him, just for him to feast on however he pleased. He sloppily licked as much of your juices as he could.
“All for you...” you shuddered as he rubbed his beard against the skin of your thigh.
Temporarily losing your vision seemed to have heightened everything, was it always so intense when his calloused fingers touched you? When he pushed three of his fingers inside you while whispering the dirtiest things in the world in your ear, rubbing his beard into the crook of your neck till you came around his fingers.
You were still dizzy from your high, you hissed out his name when he pulled his fingers out of you, leaving your cunt so void and empty.
You didn’t have the opportunity to tell him just how amazing that was, “You ready, babe?” You heard him ask as you nodded, his leaking tip against your opening.
He pushed into you, slowly and steadily to draw it out, he always liked taking his time, a woman like you deserved to be treated right. He hovered over you, staring at your face, your sparkling eyes covered by the blindfold, your bottom lip between your teeth, he pulled it out of your mouth with his thumb
“Don’t want you hurting yourself, honey,” he tutted, shaking his head as be sucked on your bruised bottom lip, fully sheathing himself inside you.
You wrapped your legs around his hips, hooking them behind his back, he was so big - the biggest you had ever had and yet it was never enough. Your cunt was greedy. You needed him deep, as deep as he could go. Exploring parts of you no one had seen or touched before. Only he ever would.
His hand circling your hips to pull you up against him as he rocked his hips against yours, “You’re so tight... squeezing me so tight,” he groaned. “You wanna come for me?” He whispered in your ear before nibbling on your earlobe.
“Yes,” you furiously nodded, your orgasm washing over you, dark spots in your vision as you felt your limbs loosen up.
“Hang on for me,” he warned you, holding onto the headboard as he chased his own end.
You sighed, hooking your tied-up hands around his neck as you felt his warm spend fill you up.
“Feels nice,” you mumbled, nuzzling his beard.
He hushed when you whined like the needy little thing that you were as he pulled out of you, untying your bound wrists.
He dimmed the lights before removing your blindfold, “There she is,” he smiled, kissing your temple as you rubbed your eyes. “Did you have fun, honey?” he held onto your chin as he made you turn your head to him, so that he could look into your eyes.
“Mm-hm. We should do this again sometime,” you yawned. You were better at being tied up than him anyway.
“We will. Happy anniversary.”
“Happy Valentine’s.”
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