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erin-bo-berin · 4 years

Text

Lists

MASTERLIST

This fic was requested by @sundippedprincess for Spencer and the reader to exchange kink lists. This was so different for me to write because it borders on smut, but doesn’t actually include it. It was also pretty funny to channel Spencer and his knowledge. This one is a little shorter than most of mine, but I wanted to post a little mid-week fic for y’all. I hope you enjoy and happy reading!

Spencer Reid/Reader

Rating: M (no smut, but talk of sexual acts/kinks)

Word Count: 1,927

“I can’t believe you came up with this.”

You and your boyfriend Spencer were currently sitting on your shared bed, each of you writing on your respective notepads.

“Hey, we’re at the point in our relationship where it’s perfectly respectable to share things like this with one another,” Spencer explained, never once looking up from his writing.

He’d been scribbling for a good ten minutes before you’d even begun writing, making you incredibly nervous.

“What are you even writing?” you asked, exasperated, trying to peek.

“You’ll find out soon enough,” he smirked, pulling the pad closer to him, where you couldn’t see.

After a nonchalant conversation the other day about kinks, Spencer suggested that you both write down any kinks you and him had or even wanted to experiment with.

This is how you ended up sitting on the opposite side of the bed, just staring at him as he immediately started writing. You were so curious what was on his list.

So far, your list seemed pretty bare. You had experimented with milder kinks—which you were more comfortable with—but there were a few more intermediate ones that you would be willing to try.

Spencer seemed to be enjoying this a lot though. He was scribbling happily, tongue poking out of the side of his mouth.

You had to admit, you were pretty curious what kinks he was interested in.

Yours and Spencer’s sex life was pretty routine. It had never been bad per se, but maybe he was right, it was a good point in your relationship where you could feel comfortable enough with one another to try new things.

You and he had been dating for just about a year now, although you hadn’t been intimate until much later in your relationship. The first four or so months was spent taking things slow, something that was fine with you. He had a busy career and you were still getting to know each other.

You weren’t keen on rushing into anything either, so it had never been a big deal that the sexual part of your relationship didn’t form for a bit. It took a while—as it usually did in a new relationship—for you both to become accustomed to one other in bed.

This was taking it to a new level though. You and he had briefly talked before about what you enjoyed in bed, but not to these lengths. So as you made out your list, you made sure to add even the most obvious ones.

Your eyes fell to your piece of paper that had your obvious kinks: fingering, oral and lingerie/sexy outfits. You thought harder though. What would be something that you would enjoy and would turn you both on?

Chewing your bottom lip, you added more to your list.

Looking over at Spencer, you saw him smirking and nodding to himself as he wrote. What in this world was he writing?

Perhaps your boyfriend was kinkier than you thought.

You thought about other things you were curious to try and added them to your list. It had grown some, but still seemed pretty weak compared to the novel you were sure Spencer was writing.

By now, your list included:

Fingering

Oral Sex

Lingerie/Sexy Clothing

Roleplay

Dirty Talk

Face Sitting

Moaning

Those were the mild ones and ones that were pretty common and usually done.

The few that you added were:

Sex Toys

Striptease

Sex In Different Locations

You couldn’t think of much of anything else, so you sat and waited while your boyfriend continued adding to his list.

“Are you writing the Kama Sutra over there?” you joked.

“You know, contrary to the popular belief the Kama Sutra isn’t really a guide on sex or sex positions as much as it is a guide on the art of living well, the nature of love, finding a life partner and maintaining one’s love life and other aspects pertaining to pleasure-oriented faculties of human life.”

You chuckled, his gift for spouting random facts something you found incredibly endearing. You were always learning something new, like in fact, the real subject of the Kama Sutra.

“Good to know,” you smiled.

“Okay, I’m just about done,” he commented.

You sat waiting, quite amused.

“And done,” he said, putting down his pen.

“Count of three we switch?” you offered.

“One,” he began.

“Two,” you added.

“Three.”

At the same time, you switched notepads. Your eyes bugged at the amount of writing on the page. It was completely full. You were extremely intrigued.

The list was a mile long and some were-

“Spencer, some of these aren’t in English!”

He looked at you with a cocky grin and a raised brow. You just gaped at him.

“What language is this anyway?” you asked, looking closer.

“Two are Russian, one is Korean,” he answered nonchalantly.

“I’m afraid to ask what they are.”

“Don’t worry, none of it is really BDSM or anything,” he said, “I see too much stuff like that at work and I would never want to put you through something like that.”

His voice was gentle and you smiled at his concern.

“Besides, the hardcore stuff doesn’t do much for me anyway.”

At least that was one thing you could agree on.

You watched his eyes quickly scan your small list.

“I am very much up for a striptease,” he grinned, “Sex toys, hmm? Noted.”

“Spencer,” you chuckled, watching his finger run down the list.

“Moaning?” he asked, “Care to elaborate?”

“Too many guys are quiet. I want you to moan. I wanna hear how good I’m making you feel,” you smirked.

“Oh I can definitely manage to do that for you,” he mumbled half to himself, making you grin.

“Aren’t you gonna check out mine?” he questioned.

“I’m preparing myself,” you deadpanned.

But as usual, curiosity killed the cat. So, you looked.

You saw some of the same things you had included on your own list; fingering, oral sex, face sitting and dirty talk.

“Gotta put that dirty talk to use, I see,” you mumbled as you read.

“Oh, believe me, I will,” he smirked.

“Dominant and submissive huh?”

“Not like in BDSM though,” he said, “Sometimes I might be in the mood to dominate you, sometimes I might want you to dominate me.”

“Can’t wait for that,” you grinned slyly.

Your eyes continued down the list.

Food Play

Sensation Play

Deprivation/Blindfolds

“Food play, I approve of. I think we have some whipped cream in the fridge as we speak,” you said, “What’s sensation play?”

“Like if I want to run a piece of ice over your naked body while you’re hot and turned on and watch it melt slowly on your skin.”

Your mouth dried a bit, just imagining the scenario and you shifted slightly, clearing your throat.

“And deprivation?”

“If I feel like tying your wrists to the bed posts so you can’t touch me while I fuck you. Or blindfold you and drive you crazy because you can’t see me, only feel me,” Spencer said.

“Mm,” you hummed, trying to ignore the slight churn in your stomach from your lust.

One item caught your eye, distracting you from your desires.

“Impregnation kink?”

“Mhm,” he answered, “Cause what’s hotter than the possibility of getting you pregnant? Knowing that I did that.”

His smirk had grown on his face. You had to agree, it was sexy. You may not have been together for an extremely long period of time, but you could definitely say you’d one day like to have a baby with him.

“Oh my god, Spencer Reid,” you said, as your eyes fell on the next listed kink, “You have a spanking kink?”

“Not that I know of,” he answered innocently, “But if you’re willing, I’d like to try it. Maybe just one here and there during rough sex.”

“You better stay over there at this rate or I’m going to end up ripping all your clothes off,” you grumbled.

“I know what I’m doing,” he grinned mischievously.

“Okay, I know this one should be self explanatory, but what are cumshots and why is that on your list? How do you even know about all of these? Nevermind,” you held up your hand, “I forgot, you do lots of reading on everything.”

“Ejaculating into a woman’s vagina.”

“Okay, that’s one we’ve already done,” you snickered.

Your gaze continued down the list.

Orgasm Control

Orgasm Denial

Begging

“Oh so you want me to beg for you to fuck me?” you smirked, “Yet you won’t let me come?”

“We’ve done it a little before. It’s sexy seeing you writhe under me, begging to cum so hard that you see stars.”

You were now throbbing with arousal, you couldn’t deny it anymore.

“Erotic massage?”

Your brows lifted at the next entry on the list.

“What?” he grinned innocently, “You get a sensual massage and I have an excuse to keep my hands on my girl. It’s a win-win.”

You laughed. He definitely had a point there.

The next one made your eyebrows practically shoot to your hairline.

“Public sex?!”

“I’m not talking about out in the open!” he claimed, “I mean like car sex or even some secret fun under a table. Maybe my hand accidentally slips and slides into your panties one night when we’re out for dinner with the team. Maybe you have to keep from moaning as I secretly finger you, reveling in the fact that you so badly want to moan, but you have to remain composed.”

His voice dropped, getting huskier.

“And when you orgasm, your body tenses so badly and your nails dig into my forearm as your body relaxes and you release all over my hand, unbeknownst to the rest of the table.”

The room suddenly felt hotter than the Sahara desert. You realized you were staring at him, your jaw slackened.

“Problem, Y/N?” he smirked.

“Huh? No, yeah. I’m totally fine, I mean.”

You really weren’t.

There were only a few items left on the list now.

Filming Yourself

Mirror Sex

“Oh so you are kinky, huh?” you giggled, more to cover the fact that your own arousal was at dangerous heights now.

“You mean you don’t find the idea hot as fuck to watch yourself being fucked good by me in a mirror? Or filming it so you can watch while I’m gone? I mean, I have an eidetic memory, so I can automatically replay your orgasm face in my mind whenever I want.”

He was definitely asking for it, now.

Your eyes fell to the last thing listed.

Thigh Riding

“What’s that?” you asked, pointing to it.

“Not exactly a full on kink, but the fantasy of it seems extremely erotic. I’d like to see you ride my thigh, grind on it as hard as you can until you’re a moaning, orgasming mess.”

His voice was a near growl now, his own desires showing—in more than just the indicator in his pants.

“Oh fucking hell,” you snapped, tossing the notepad aside.

You were across the bed in mere seconds, in front of him, ready to kiss him. He tossed the other pad of paper to meet yours on the floor as he grabbed you and pushed you back against the bed, him falling with you as he hovered over you. He kissed you briefly.

“So which one do you want to try out first?” you asked, breathless from the singular kiss.

His small, answering smirk was more than enough of an answer for you, but he answered anyway.

“Whichever you want.”

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writtenonreceipts · 4 years

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words words words the fanfic saga continues...should have another part up by this weekend. Thanks for the wonderful comments and support for the first part, y’all have no idea how much it means!

TW: Angst, anxiety, depression, talk about death, drug references, alcohol references. (I’d honestly say the drug and alcohol are pretty mild but I just want to be safe for ya)

They are the runaways. Before she manages to return home with her basement full of demons, Aelin meets Rowan. Several times. Set within the events of THIS fic. Part three. Throne of Glass modern AU

hello, good-bye (part 2)

It is a year after she meets him for the first time.

Technically it is their fourth meeting. But the other three don’t count. Not really.

The first time they met she’d just overdosed and was sitting in a hospital bed wondering what the best route of escape was. Lysandra slept over her legs, drooling. Aelin had no recollection of how she got in the hospital. Nothing beyond the needle, the pills, the desperation.

The second time they met she vomited on his shoes. They were damn nice ones too. She offered no apology other than the fact it was his own damn fault she was going through withdrawal symptoms. It was his own damn fault for being so annoying. And why was he covered in cartoon stickers?

The third time they met they weren’t supposed to know names. They weren’t supposed to know histories. They weren’t supposed to be there together. Even though they found themselves in the same uncomfortable chairs staring over the same stale coffee. They were supposed to share stories of support and weakness. Those meetings were always worthless in her opinion.

So this is really the first time they meet.

Aelin is sitting in a coffee shop sipping on her chocolate hazelnut blended double espresso with extra whipped cream when she sees him.

He’s impossible to miss really. Tall and broad shouldered his physic is certainly glorious to behold. Not to mention the tan skin that gleams with post-workout sweat. His hair is silver and hangs to his shoulders, longer than when she first saw him. But that time doesn’t count, she reminds herself.

The little shop is full of the late afternoon crowd of caffeine seekers and rain avoiders. And with the deluge going on outside, quite a few people have sought refuge. Aelin wants to be annoyed, but she reminds herself that she is one of those rain avoiders.

And between watching the rain or watching the group of teenage girls giggle of text messages—Aelin decides on watching him as he orders. She doesn’t know why. It’s not like she’ll say anything to him. Better to be as far from his as possible. Because as much as she doesn’t want to��she really does remember him. He is cold, harsh, broody. She knows he has a past, but with the snippets she’s gotten. It’s a hard one. Dark and cruel.

He doesn’t notice her until his name is called. Rowan. And he’s taking the first sip of the double espresso with caramel and vanilla. She’d always thought he’d be the black coffee sort. He’s turning to find a spare table and his eyes meet hers.

She’d never admit it to anyone, but she’s always loved his eyes. From the day she woke up in that hospital bed those rich green eyes have haunted her.

Aelin fingers one of her many scars—the one on her right hand, over her knuckles—and she considers what it would be like to not feel so alone. Because right there, even with barely three feet between them, another human being has never felt so far away.

Her fingers move to the inside of her wrist where the thinner scars reside. So far away.

“This chair taken?” His voice is low and brisk.

Aelin looks up at him. She shrugs, not even bothering to blush or play coy or something else she might have done once. “No.”

It’s not like he’ll try and talk to her. Anonymity is his life. From the hospital where he works to the meetings he attends. He has no ties to her. It’s not like she wants any either. She knows his condescending look. Which really is hypocritical when you think about it. If he’s an addict too, he can’t judge her. Can he?

But she judges him. Because what else can she do? She judges him for barely talking to her in the hospital. At the meetings. She judges him for the stupid sticker he gave her where he scrawled a meeting location and phone number. She judges him for never really talking about what he’s gone through. Because how can you change and get better when you don’t accept the past?

She’s a hypocrite too.

“What?” she asks realizing in her stupor he’s actually decided to talk to her.

“Your bag?” He repeats, a single eyebrow raised.

Aelin fumbles realizing her too big purse is sitting in the proffered chair. She snatches it up and takes it into her lap. Maybe that will help the way she shakes and the feeling of panic welling up inside her. Why is she so focused on him with scenarios dancing in her mind of things that will never happen? Things that are stupid. Things that—

“I didn’t expect you to actually show up,” Rowan says.

Aelin snaps her eyes to him as he drinks his coffee. “Excuse me?”

“To the meetings,” he replies.

“It’s none of your business,” she says, cold and sharp. Her hackles are on the rise and already she’s debating her escape.

“No, I guess it’s not.”

“Why would you even care?” she asks. They’ve sat in silence for too long and she doesn’t like it. Even though she told herself there was no real reason to talk to him, she can’t help it.

He smirks. “I thought it was none of my business?”

She calls him a name and is slinging the strap of her purse over a shoulder.

“Wait,” he says. He holds up a placating hand but his face is unreadable. “Stay.”

Aelin glances outside where it’s started to rain. She purses her lips and relaxes back into her seat.

“I’m Rowan,” he says finally. “Seeing as how we’ve never officially met.”

The wince is too hard to conceal or pass off as a shiver. Aelin shrugs it off and doesn’t quite meet his gaze. “Aelin.”

He makes a noise in the back of his throat which causes Aelin to look up. His eyes are narrowed slightly as one finger runs along the lip of his cup. He’s scrutinizing her. It’s like she is an open book before him. Everything there is to know is tattooed upon her skin. So, Aelin meets his eyes and holds that intense stare.

“I guess I’m still trying to figure you out,” he says. “I thought I’d have it down already.”

“Because I’m so easy? So like all the other girls who’ve fallen apart in your hospital?” Aelin replies. Maybe it’s a cheap shot but she doesn’t care.

He cocks his head to the side but says nothing. So she says nothing either.

And they remain that way until the rain has subsided and Aelin is safe to run out to her car and leave him behind.

Tucked in the pages of her favorite book, Aelin finds the sticker.

It’s of a cartoon daisy with a smiling face in the center and happy yellow petals dancing out. It’s a terrible sticker really. Why would anyone think it was a good idea to create something like that? But she ignores the thought because all she can do is trace the words and numbers on the back of the sticker.

She never bothered to remove the backing. Never bothered to put the sticker on her car or phone or anywhere else but in her favorite book. She doesn’t really know why.

But now she’s feeling the crushing blow of having lost another job. It’s not her fault. Not really. She can’t afford regular gas. She’s basically living out of her car. The only skirt she owns has bleach stains. And she’s still craving like it’s only been a day since her last hit.

Maybe it is her fault. Everything is after all.

But those numbers scribbled on the backing of the sticker are written so neatly, so carefully—it would be a shame not to put them to good use.

So she puts them into her phone and dials. It’s a miracle she still has a phone anymore honestly. Or a car. Or her favorite book.

“Hello?”

His voice is clipped. Aelin can tell how tired he is in that one word and the way it’s a sigh barely escaping his lips.

A small noise hisses out of her throat.

“Aelin.” It’s not a question. In the background she hears keys jingle and a door close and feet pounding on stairs. “Where are you?”

That is a wonderful question.

Somehow, Aelin realizes, she’s made it to her car. It’s sitting in the middle of the parking lot of the restaurant where she used to work. She knows that without the money she would have gotten from tips she won’t be able to buy gas.

Before she can force herself not to, Aelin is telling him where to find her. She’s promising that she’ll stay right there. She’s promising that she’ll stay on the line. Even as the panic seizes her and she is desperate. She is desperate for anything, anything, that will calm her down.

He arrives just as she’s manages to calm herself down.

I’m fine. It’s fine. Just breath. Deeper than that. Hold the air in. Slow. Slow. I’m Fine. I’m fine.

Aelin untangles her fingers from her seatbelt as he gets out of his car. As he walks over to her, she pulls her self out of the seat and leans against the car.

“You didn’t have to come,” she says quickly. “It’s fine. I overreacted.”

She just hopes the tear streaks on her cheeks aren’t that noticeable.

“Are you hungry?” He asks, completely dismissing her words.

Aelin stares at him.

“There’s a pizza place just down the road,” he continues. Rowan nods to the restaurant behind her. “I’m guessing that one will be on your blacklist for a while.”

Did he just try and make a joke? Aelin stares more intently.

“Come on,” Rowan says.

This time it’s more of an order and Aelin obliges.

When they’re seated at the pizza place with water and breadsticks in front of them, Aelin notices the watch on his wrist. Hot pink with Dora the Explorer on the face.

“What the hell is that?” She makes a face and stares at the watch.

Rowan glances down and shrugs. “A watch.”

“Smart ass. Why the hell do you still have it?”

“I need to tell time when I’m on shift and can’t pull out my phone.”

“It’s pink.”

“It’s a watch.”

She stares at him. He stares right back.

Who is this man? She wonders. Who is this man that is so arrogant and cold and confidant? Who is he, so calm and capable?

She hates him for it. Hates him that he seems to have moved on from his past. Hates him that he is so put together and not a wreck like her. I bet he doesn’t have panic attacks in his car. I bet he isn’t wondering the best way to cash in on his sobriety.

“You made it through the full sixty day run,” Rowan says, “you told me to keep track.”

“That was months ago,” she replies. She can’t help but to glare at him. But to hate him.

“And?” he presses. “How has it been?”

Aelin saves herself from responding by taking a long sip of water. She looks around the restaurant. It’s pretty small, but a cute place. It has wood paneling, checkboard tablecloth, and a jukebox in one corner. A family of four sits in one corner.

“Fine,” Aelin says. “Why do you care anyway?”

“Why’d you call me?” he returns.

Aelin doesn’t want to answer. If she answered she’d have to explain why she can’t call Lysandra. Which would lead into not being back in Terrasen. Which would lead into why she met him in that hospital so long ago.

“What made you move out to Wendlyn?” she asks instead. “Terrasen has a better medical program.”

“Family,” he says. Though, it comes out more like a growl. “Why would you move out to Wendlyn?”

“Family.”

Both answers are an admission. Both answers are pained. Both answers are lies.

She doesn’t know how it escalated from there. Between slightly hating him and slightly admiring him—Aelin talks with him every few days. Sometimes she goes a week or two. But she’ll always check in. He has become a friend of sorts to her. Which is good. Otherwise she’d be right back to where she starting at the beginning of their relationship.

But it’s not a relationship. It’s hardly anything at all.

Her phone rings at some unholy hour one night. Aelin doesn’t know why, but she answers it.

“Hello?” she scratches out.

She is met with his breathing. Unsure of what to do, Aelin remains quiet. Her phone presses into her ear with heavy force until she’s sure she’s going to break something.

“Rowan?”

He makes a strangled noise on the other side and she’s kicking off her blankets, dancing around her tiny room for her shoes.

“Rowan, I’m coming over,” she says.

“No.” The word is barely a whisper. “No. I’m at the hospital.”

She waits.

“There was an accident. Pregnant woman hit by a drunk driver. She stoked out on the table right before me. Just died. And the baby too. But that man…he just walked away. Cut on his head and some bruised ribs. He gets to walk away.”

Aelin wraps her fingers around her blanket tight enough her hand starts to hurt. He’s told her once about his high school sweetheart. Rowan was going to marry her. Not just because she was pregnant but because he believed she was his soulmate. The one. The only. The end.

She’d been hit by a drunk driver on her way home from his apartment.

That had been his end too. Drowning was the way he’d been determined to go. Drowning by alcohol.

“Rowan,” Aelin whispers. She wishes she was at his side. If only to hold his hand or catch his tears before they fell.

“Talk to me?” he begs.

She tells him about Lysandra. Her best friend. The reason she made it away from Arobyn and Clarisse alive. Then she talks about Aedion. A cousin she doesn’t even know if he’s still alive or not. She doesn’t talk about Sam though. Not now. But she talks about another friend whom she loved. Little Elide who first dreamed of running away. Aelin doesn’t know what happened to her, but she does know that’s where the idea first came from.

Be free. Run. Live.

Simple words. Simple ideas. And she tells him everything. Right up until the sun begins to rise.

“Thank-you,” he says when her voice finally gives out.

“Rowan?” she begins then pauses unsure of what she really wants to say.

“Yeah?”

Aelin wants to invite him over. Wants to say he can always come. Always call. He’s not alone. He never has been. But the words dry up in her throat unlike the tears that are slowly tracking down her cheeks.

“Good-bye,” she says instead.

“Good-bye.”

tags:

@ tottenhamboys20

#rowan whitethorn #aelin galythinius #rowaelin #throne of glass #queen of shadows #kingdom of ash #the fanfic no one asked for continues #it's a slowburn even though nothing really happens my bad guys i tried #fanfiction #runaways

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lightskinrry · 4 years

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what’s left of if you’re good...

to remind y’all of what it was: Harry meets you in a bar and is seduced by your bubbly and outgoing personality, he asks you on date to know each other better little did he know he was not the only one with a special job

a/n: that's what I was able to recover and sadly couldn’t find the inspiration and energy to finish... Anyway, hope you like the little I can give you!

Part Two: Tequila Sunrise and Whipped Cream.

The shadows danced in the alley under the red neon. The words “Sex Shop” reflected in the puddle on the street, making them float on the ground like a weirdly luring portal to another dimension where there’s no sins or shame, where everything is buoyant and dark. Where leather and lace cohabit and Desire rules everything; a place you’d want to go but would be scared to stay.

You watched Harry walk down the street, his eyes shifting from the map on his phone, the sexshop sign and the puddle. He was probably wondering if he should dive in. Should he walk inside this lugubre place where nothing is what it seems and something exciting awaits him? Should he head down in the puddle and drown? Or should he walk back to his car and act as if he never came here in the first place? You hoped he would just walk in and leave all his worries outside. His hood was covering his face, you recognized him from the rings on his fingers that spelled his initials and his pink phone case.

He took a deep breath and walked a step only to be met with a tall and big man who ran into him while heading out, his head bowed down.

“Sorry fella.”

The man walked faster past Harry and shoved him at the same time and you could tell Harry second guessed coming in before his curiosity took over and he hustled himself through the door.

“Miss Red can’t see you now, Sir.” A huge black man dressed in a usual security uniform informed the small and bald man standing in front of him as Harry waited for his turn to walk through the big red curtains.

“But she said she could see me tonight.” The little man pleaded.

“She can’t see you now.”

“But…”

“Don’t make me throw you out, man.” The security guy snapped as he adjusted his sunglasses on his nose.

You were peeping the conversation through the curtains as you waited behind them.

The bald man sighed in frustration and left. Harry appeared so small next to the security man.

“Hi…” He scratched the back of his neck. “I’m here to see Y/N.”

You stiffed at the mention of your name and before Joe the security guy snapped Harry’s neck for mentioning your real name here, you went out.

“What?” Joe’s voice was getting higher. You placed yourself between him and Harry.

“It’s cool, J. He’s a newbie.”

“Uh. Okay.”

Harry’s head naturally bowed down, you pulled on your robe. “Let’s go.” You grabbed Harry’s arm and pulled him behind the curtain.

“It’s Miss Red, here.” You whispered as you let a chuckle leave your lips, trying to make him relax.

“Sorry.” His head was facing the ground and the tulles of your robe brushed his arms which made him shiver.

You raised his face up with your fingers, making him look into your eyes. Despite the high heels on your feet he was still taller than you.

“It’s cool.” You nibbled on your lower lip before a smile crept on your face. “Just don’t do that again.”

Your relaxed and giggly tone made him realize you were not mad at his mistake. A jittery chuckle left his mouth and he took a deep breath. You placed your hands on his shoulders and pressed them. “Hey! Chill out, Harry! I’m not gonna kill you.”

He sighed before laughing again. “Yeah. I know… I’m just… a tad nervous?”

“Don’t have to be. Don’t think too much of it, Harry. It’s going to be fun.”

You winked at him as you pulled on his arms to make him enter your office. Or so called “office”. It was a large room with a very high ceiling. It was light and cosy; the big red velvet sofa always looked way more comfortable than it actually was. Above it was a modern painting hanging on the wall. Except for the whips, crops and other torture instruments and sex toys; the room looked pretty welcoming. And for some, the whips and sex toys were what made it so welcoming.

“It’s nice.” Harry’s eyes wandered around the room, trying to capture the aura of the place. You couldn’t quite read his face but it wouldn’t be good for him to know everything that goes down in this room.

“Take a sit.” You pointed at the red sofa before turning your back to him so you could grab the files that laid on your desk at the opposite side of the room.

When you turned around, he was sitting on the edge of the sofa, his hood down and his legs squeezing. He was definitely nervous and it was cute. You liked how shy and intimidated he was. A big strong man who was going to kneel in front of you. That was the thrill.

You leaned against the desk as you squeezed the paper in your hand. “How are you doing?”

He looked at you for a while before saying anything. His glare traced your curves through the fabric of your robe, from your platform heels to your straightened hair.

“I’m fine.”

You nibbled on your thumb as a giggle left your lips. You untied the knot of your robe and it fell to the floor; revealing your red corset and its assorted lingerie set. Harry’s eyes started shimmering at your sight and a smirk crept on your face.

“Like what you see?” You walked up to him painfully slow. So the image of your body moving towards him like a threat he couldn’t escape from, would mark his mind and he wouldn’t forget it.

He swallowed the gulp in his throat. His eyes were shifty and his tongue was running on his lips. You stood tall in front of him, your figure towering over him. He looked so small and soft standing in your shadow; his lips ajar and his eyes wide open.

“Do you like what you see, Harry?” You asked again, your tone getting firmer.

“Yeah.” His voice was more of a breath than a sound.

“Yes Mistress.” You bent down to him to look into his eyes. “Say ‘yes mistress’.”

He pouted for a second. You could tell he knew this was the first step and if he took it, there were no backing down.

He gave you a soft smile but his eyes were playful. “Yes… Y/N.”

You bit the inside of your cheek. He knew exactly what he was doing. He was being a little brat. You usually don’t like clients who play games but with Harry it was different. You wanted to play all night long. You wanted to tease him and bite him and make him purr in your lap like a kitten. Like something that’s yours, something that belongs to you. You wanted to be that something he’d crave at night, in the morning, in the afternoon and in the evening. The only thing his mind pictures when he hears the sound of heels clicking on the ground, the only thing he thinks about when he sees the color red. You wanted to be his fantasy.

You grabbed his jaw softly. “Are you sure you want to go down this road with me?”

Your words had a double meaning and he understood it clearly. It was a playful threat but also a check up that he was comfortable enough to keep going.

He nodded as his usual smirk appeared on his face. You looked down at him and let go of his jaw, going back to your desk.

“So you’ve been picturing me spanking you?” You looked at him as you shook the paper in your hands; his client chart.

“I’ve been picturing you doing a lot of things.” He cleared his throat. “Karaoke, for example.”

You smiled to yourself. He still wanted to see you outside of this office again which was a good sign for the future of this odd relationship the both of you started.

“I like Karaoke.” You smiled as you pressed your back against the desk. “I like spanking, too.”

“Do you think we can do both at the same time or is it physically impossible?” He held in a cute laugh as his eyes kept tracing your body.

“We can try.” You smugly shrugged. “I can spank you and you see if you can hit those high notes.” You playfully raised your eyebrows at him. “I know I can.”

Harry bit his lower lip. “I’d die to see you try.”

You walked towards him and stopped a few inches from him. You grabbed a little black velvet box that rested on the table next to the sofa. You could feel Harry’s gaze all over you; it was this burning sensation that took over your whole body. You pulled a red rope out of the box and turned around to face Harry. “Get up.”

He smiled to himself as he stood slowly. “So, what’s next?”

You gave him a conceited smile. “Don’t ask questions. Just do as I say.”

You wrapped your arms around his neck and let your hands slither from the back of his neck to his chest, all the way down to his lower stomach. You pulled his sweatshirt up above his head and threw it on the sofa. You placed your hands on his chest, scratching it softly with your nails. You could feel his breath on your skin and his heart beat against your hands.

You took a few steps back to properly look at him. “Put your hands together.”

You loved how silent he was; he just put his hands together without saying anything. He was standing there; shirtless, his heart pounding hard, his cock throbbing; a detail you couldn’t help but notice through his light jeans and his hands ready to be tied up.

“Good. You’re more obedient than I thought you would be.” You teased him as you started tying the rope around his wrists. His hands were softly shaking so once the knot was tied; you held his hands in yours. “I’ll be gentle.”

He smiled to you and leaned closer to your face as if he demanded a kiss to prove your gentleness. You slowly gave in; letting his hands fall back from yours and opening your kiss softly. You gave him a gentle kiss, one that parted his lips enough to let a moan slip; one that you sealed by grabbing his jaw a little harder and whispering in his mouth. “Get on your knees.”

You watched him drop to his knees in front of you. “Good boy.”

He looked up to you with a smile on his face. “I like it when you call me that.”

You chuckled a little bit as you placed your hands on your hips. “What’s your safe word?”

“Kiwi.”

“Never be afraid to use it. At any moment.” He nodded but you needed to hear him say that he would never be afraid to use his safe word so you insisted. “Am I clear?”

“Yes.”

You grabbed his jaw between your fingers. “Yes who?”

“Yes Mistress.”

#harry styles #harry styles smut #harry styles writings #harry styles imagine #harry styles angst #if you're good #ifyg

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an-unknown-writers-world · 4 years

Text

Stitches

Day Three: Hot Chocolate

Part of @panicfob 25 Days of Christmas Challenge

Warnings: Angst, Very brief mentions of past domestic violence (implied more than anything),

Pairing: Bucky Barnes X Reader (First Person, Nameless)

Word Count:1818

A/N: Thank you so much for the amazing feedback! Y’all are bringing me a special kind of joy this holiday season. If you missed Christmas Cookies or The Little Things you can find them on my Masterlist

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The house was quiet and empty, Sam was off on a mission for the next several days and Bucky was due back tomorrow from his own. I ate dinner at the kitchen island, it felt a little bit pitiful. We didn’t always speak to each other, but I had grown used to eating dinner with Bucky and Sam. After cleaning up the dishes I made hot chocolate went to the sitting room.

I turned the lights down and turned on the Christmas Tree. The gas fireplace warmed the room, I missed the crackle of a traditional wood fire, but this would do. Sitting on the floor I leaned against the couch to watch the tree. Getting lost in the magic of the twinkling lights I let my mind wander, I thought about all the things I was thankful this holiday season. Bucky and Sam seemed to be learning to get along, or at least tolerate each other, and Pepper had become a great friend. Also, I found myself thankful for Morgan and the ways she brought all of us together, the memories of baking cookies with her and Bucky were ones I’d treasure for a long time.

Bucky’s change in demeanor was another thing I found myself focused on. Ever since the cookie episode with Morgan, he seems to be letting me in a little more, even offering to help decorate the tree.

“Hey doll,” Bucky said rounding the corner.

I jumped spilling hot chocolate everywhere. “Jesus, we need to put a bell on you,” I said harshly.

He laughed, “Sorry,”

“It’s okay,” I said getting up. “I thought you were gone for the night.”

“I was supposed to be. Got the intel quicker than expected so I just decided to come home.”

That’s when I noticed the damage – split lit, a cut on his cheek that clearly needed stitches.

“Oh, Buck, c’mere. Let’s get that cleaned and stitched up.”

“I’ll be alright, I can do it.” He assured.

“It wasn’t a request,” I stated.

“You’re bossy.” He chuckled, “Can I go change first?”

“Sure, I’ll get this mess cleaned up. Would you like some?” I held up the cup in question.

He smiled, “Yes, thank you.”

I rushed to the kitchen grabbing supplies to clean up the mess, thankfully it was tile flooring which made it easier to clean. Turning the gas stove off, I made my way back to the kitchen. The first aid kit was in the bathroom, I grabbed it and turned to heat the milk. Pulling the necessary stuff out of the medkit I set up on the counter. Bucky appeared back in the kitchen in sweats and a tank top, making more wounds visible. I frowned at the sight of previously unseen wounds.

He sat at the kitchen island as I worked. I mixed the powder and boiled milk in a cup and grated a small chunk of a chocolate bar and candy cane on top of the whipped cream before putting it in front of him.

“Thank you,” He said softly.

“I’ll be just another minute.”

He nodded, breathing in the scent of the hot chocolate. I scurried around the kitchen pouring my own cup before setting the pan in the sink to soak. Sitting beside him at the island gave me clear access to the cheek that would need stitches and a few cuts on his bicep that may need the same attention.

“You should see the other guy,” Bucky joked as I examined him.

I laughed, “I’m not envious of whoever stitches him up.”

“You know I can do it. I’ve done in a thousand times myself.” His eyes met mine.

“Shush, Barnes. I’m not going to let you. Stop wasting your breath,” I smiled.

“Have you done this before?” He asked as I poured antiseptic on a gauze pad.

“Probably as many times you.”

He raised an eyebrow in question.

I pointed to a scar in my cheek in a similar place to his fresh wound. “Did these myself a few years back, and these” I pointed at a scar on my wrist, “done a few months before that. I have more if you need my resume. But these are just the ones on myself; Tony, Nat, and Steve all had a lot, even Sam has a few from me.”

“Where’d you learn to do it?” He asked. “I thought you always worked for Stark.”

“I have,” I stated.

“And he taught you this?” He winced under the antiseptic burn.

“Not quite.” I sighed; he wasn’t letting this go. “Self-taught mostly. Tony corrected some of my knowledge over time.”

I was beginning to wish I started on his cheek rather than his bicep. Taking fresh gauze, I cleaned the wound to start the sutures.

“Why would someone who is not a nurse or doctor learn this voluntarily?” He mumbled.

“Someone who was afraid to answer the doctor’s questions.” I sighed with the weight of the world on my chest. “How did this happen- it’s a terrifying question,” I stated

I focused on my hands trying to let everything else go, the wound only needed six stitches which took no time at all. The look on Bucky’s face showed he had more questions but thankfully sat quietly while I worked, flinching ever so lightly under my grasp or the occasional hand raise to sip his hot chocolate. A few butterfly band-aids were needed for smaller wounds along his flesh arm and one on his chin.

“This will sting,” I said breaking the silence.

He nodded, smiling halfhearted at me. A new antiseptic covered gauze pad slid over his cheek cleaning away the dried blood and dirt. This was deeper than it looked at first, it was going to take more than a handful of stitches; without hesitation, I started in on it. Bucky was strong and good at masking his pain, most of the time. The one give away he couldn’t avoid was physical pain, when he’d strain too much or flex his metal arm too hard the vibranium plates would shift causing a whirling noise.

“I’m sorry Buck, I’m almost done, promise,” I said finishing up.

“I’m okay.” He assured me.

“Maybe tell your arm that then?” I joked.

Bucky let out a heavy sigh knowing he’d been caught. I clipped the thread and place a light bandage over the stitches.

“Keep it on for the night please,” I said turning my attention to the supplies on the counter.

“Thank you.” Bucky softly.

“Sure thing,” I replied not breaking my focus.

Bucky rested his hand softly on my thigh catching me off guard, I jumped slightly.

“Sorry,” He apologized softly, our breaths intertwining from the close proximity.

I nodded not trusting my own voice.

“I’ll clean this up later,” Bucky said. “I was wondering,” he hesitated for a moment, “Last night you mentioned a tradition of laying under the tree lights after you were done decorating. I was wondering if maybe you wanted to do that with me? I know it’s not the same as when you were little.”

A smile broke across my face that I couldn’t contain, “I’d love to.”

“Come on,” He moved to get up, a smile playing across his lips.

“You mean right now?” I asked confused.

“Yes, no time like the present, right?”

I chuckled “What about this mess?”

“I’ll clean it up later.” He was out of his seat holding both of our mugs.

“I’ll help you later,” I promised getting up.

“Sure, sure.” He smiled as he led the way from the kitchen.

The room was just as I left it, lights dimmed but tree beautifully glowing. Taking the blanket from the back of the couch I laid it out across the tile. Bucky put both mugs on the table in front of the couch before sitting on the ground in front of the tree. Sitting down next to him I felt a small swell of pride, Bucky Barnes, the grinch himself is taking a step to enjoy a bit of Christmas. I shuffled laying back, so I was flat on the ground and inched my way back under the tree.

“So that it?” Bucky asked with a laugh, “You just lay and shuffle?”

“I didn’t think laying under an object would be that foreign of a concept for you Barnes.”

“Oh, it’s not, doll,” He said laying back, “I just thought you might have more expectation.”

I laughed, “I’m used to crawling under the tree after decorating, I have no expectations.”

He settled in next to me as I looked over and saw him smiling up at the lights; for a brief moment, it seemed like he was genuinely happy. He turned to catch me still staring, smiling in return.

“When it’s lit with colored lights,” I said looking up into the tree, “it’s fun to lay under and count all the different individual color bulbs.”

He chuckled, “I bet you were an amusing child.”

I shrugged, “I entertained myself a lot.”

Silence fell between us, the only sounds in the room were our breaths. It was an oddly comfortable silence, everything that had transpired over the last seventy-two hours felt like light-years away. There was no tension, no strangers; just two friends enjoying the moments of Christmas peace.

Reaching up into the tree I adjusted a rogue light facing the wrong direction, as quick as my hand returned to the blanket, I found my fingers intertwined with Bucky’s flesh ones. I was surprised, to say the least at the contact but found comfort in it. Trying not to make a big deal of it I turned my attention back to the lights.

“Doll,” He whispered,

“Yeah, Buck?”

“If you ever want to talk about what happened, I hope you know that you can come to me.”

I was shocked by his statement. Bucky was a smart man, of course, he knew there was substance behind the vague conversation we had about sutures, but I never expected him to put much thought into it.

“You don’t have to talk about it either, but if I can do anything, be somewhere for you, anything really, please tell me.”

I sighed with both gratitude and exhaustion heavy in my body, “Thank you, that means a lot, more than I can express, really.” I squeezed his hand in a reassuring gesture. “I hope you know that goes both ways,” I said turning to look at him. “I can’t begin to understand even a fraction of what you’ve been through, but I’d like to be there for you, however, you need.”

He smiled back at me. “You already do every day.”

We both fell into a comfortable silence again, looking up at the twinkling lights, hand in hand. I’m not sure how long it took, but I imagine it wasn’t long before we both fell asleep under the weight of Christmas magic.

#panic's 25 days of christmas #25 days of christmas #A Very Marvel Christmas #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes oneshot #bucky barnes one shot #bucky barnes reader insert #bucky barnes fluff #An Unknown Writers World writes #An Unknown Writers World

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paulvibe · 5 years

Text

Just Friends - Part 7 (Paul McCartney x Reader)

Words: 3.2K

Warnings: Minor Sexual Themes

Summary: Paul, finally, shows you the farm

A/N: Thank y’all so much for reading! I’m planning to write 2 more chapters, one being the final and then an epilogue. I sincerely hope that you all loved this story. It’s been fun to write, not only fueling my Paul love, but yours also. <3

A MONTH LATER

Fall had now fully come into effect. It had been a wonderful summer, so many events came and happened. Mostly happy, some sad. It was nice though, for the weather to start simmering down. You loved the summer, but there was always something so special about Autumn. The air was more crisp, and every step you took was followed by the sound of a crunching leaf. You also started to incorporate fall pastries into your bakery, so, more business was filtering in due to pumpkin pies and warm apple cider.

Over the past month, since your father's funeral, you threw yourself back into work. You worked overtime at the bakery, making up for the lost sales. You had also been working more to keep up your promise to your mother- to send money back to home to help with your siblings. Mom had also told you that Cindy started working at a diner to help with the bills, and David tended to the neighbors gardens. Each family member was pitching in and doing their part to help. It was sad that it took your father's passing to finally bring all of you together, but it is what it is.

Paul had also gotten swept back into work. He worked long hours at the studio, recording and writing for his new album. It was hard, to not see Paul, but you two talked on the phone the days he couldn’t make it to visit. Ever since the two of you showered together, the feelings you tried to deny were too strong to fight. It was a long time coming, I mean, there was moments before you were naked together that you had realized those feelings. But now, you finally acknowledged them. You were inevitably, undeniably, in love with him.

The thought of him brought butterflies to your stomach, it would cause you to smile and bite your lip. You would find yourself drifting off thinking, no- dreaming about what life would be like if you were together. You dreamt of the family home, the domestic lifestyle. Making breakfast for him in the mornings, dinner in the evenings. You get the drift. Sometimes you would get so caught up in these fantasies you would forget about the customer, waiting to be served.

The cool morning light peeled it’s way through your curtains, casting across the room. It was a Sunday, which meant the bakery was closed. You sighed, and threw the covers off yourself, getting up to stretch. It’d been a week since you last saw Paul. He was busy recording, which was unfortunate. However, you were also busy at the bakery. You looked at your alarm clock, reading 9:23 A.M. You made your way to the kitchen and set on a pot of coffee, and put a bagel into the toaster. You then opened your apartment door, grabbing the newspaper. You scanned the sections before one headline caught your attention.

PAUL’S NEW LOVER?

What? You read the sentence over and over again. It echoed throughout your brain as you frantically flipped to the page containing the article. A picture of Paul and Linda covered nearly a full page.

“...McCartney was seen last Wednesday with Linda Eastman wrapped around his arm. Will the former lovers rekindle that spark?...”

You tossed the paper onto the counter top, feeling a lump in your throat form. You were an idiot, of course Paul wasn’t in love with you. You two were just friends, and were to remain that way forever. You felt stupid, angry, betrayed. It’s not like you two were dating, nobody had made that clear. Your conscience stepped in, trying to calm you down. He had even talked to you about how their relationship just didn’t work out, they were always fighting about this and that. There had to have been a reason that he was with Linda, I mean, her father was his manager for god sakes.

You still couldn’t push past the picture. She was smiling up at him, while he smiled into the cameras. Her arms were wrapped around one of his, and they seemed to be walking together outside the studio. That should’ve been me. You thought, feeling a deep cavern form in your chest. You bit your lip and shook your head, trying to force the tears back into your eyes. It was stupid, it was like seeing all those pictures of him and Jane. You felt like a teenager again.

As if on cue your telephone rang, you knew it was Paul. You sighed, wiped your eyes and picked up the receiver. “Hello?”

“Hey Love.” You loved how his voice sounded over the phone, so soft and always eager. It made you want to jump into his arms, but your heart was reminded of the picture with Linda wrapped around him.

“Hey, Paul.” You said softly, mixing creamer into your coffee. You could fake it, right? That you weren’t hurt? It’s a tabloid, you kept reminding yourself.

“Listen, I’ve been thinking. Would you like to come over?” Paul hadn’t invited you to his house since, ever. This would be the first time. You always thought it was strange, the fact he hadn’t invited you over.

“Um, Paul, I’m feeling a little under the weather.” You said, cringing with each word that came out. You were letting that stupid article get to you. Internally you knew that you were doing that self-sabotage thing you do. As soon as something wonderful happens to you, you ruin it for yourself.

“Come feel under the weather with me.” He spoke so smoothly. Maybe that how he charmed Linda back into his arms.

“That’s very sweet of you, but-”

“I’m sending the car over. I expect to see you soon.” Okay. So, there was no getting around this.You huffed, slamming the creamer back onto the counter a little hard.

“Fine.” You gave in, though you were finding it hard to be excited. Stupid article. You needed to find out the truth from Paul.

“Lovely, I’ll see you soon, Kitty.” With that, the dial tone signaled. That nickname always sent you over the edge. You wished he’d whisper it in your ear with a string of sweet-nothings. You groaned, wiping your face with your hands and then grudgingly getting dressed.

The driver showed up an half an hour after Paul called, and so started the adventure to Paul’s house. You didn’t even know he’d settled in Scotland until you pulled up to the home. Once past the gate, a gorgeous stone house came into view. Vines had grown up the sides of the home, and the stone work was covered with moss spots. A small garden patch was planted in front of the home, and you could see various vegetables growing. A few barns stood past the home out in a field and a handful of horses grazed the grass. You were awestruck; Paul lived in a medieval fairy tale home. Something you’d always dreamed of, in fact you talked about it with him when you were children. He always boasted about having a mansion with seven maids when he grew old.

The driver parked, and you thanked him whilst climbing out. Immediately sinking your foot into a puddle of mud. You groaned and pulled your shoe out with a shluck! sound.

“Oh, I should’ve told you it’d be muddy.” You heard Paul say. You looked up, your eyes drinking in the sight of him. He stood with his hands in his pockets and an amused smile on his face. He was wearing a basic long sleeve polo shirt with jeans and tall rubber boots spackled with mud. You sighed dreamily, he looked so good.

“That would’ve been nice.” You said dryly, snapping out of your dream state and stepping away from the mud.

“Welcome to the McCartney Estate.” He boasted, arms wide with a wide smile on his face. “I’ve been wanting to bring you here for a while.” He greeted you, and let you wrap an arm around his so you wouldn’t step or slip in any more mud. “Tour? Followed by breakfast?”

“Sure.” You said, checking your wrist watch. It was 10:37 in the morning, and you hadn’t had coffee yet; even though you did make some. You might as well get through the tour, though you’d be thinking about breakfast the whole time.

He lead you into the home, and took off his boots setting them aside. He also asked you to take off your mud soaked shoes as well. You looked around the home, absolutely astonished at how beautiful it was inside. A large kitchen was straight across from the living room, equipped with a fireplace and television. The bathroom stood down the hall, along with the backdoor of the house. A staircase in the living room led up to the bedrooms; 4 of them. He showed you around each room all of which were clean and tidied. He then took you to the basement and showed you the basic recording setup he had.

“Paul, this home is beautiful. You waited over three months to show me?!” You exclaimed, lightly punching his arm. He mocked hurt and rubbed his arm.

“Well, I was remodeling.” He defended as you two made your way back to the kitchen and living room. Breakfast had already been made, by someone who probably wasn’t Paul, and sat neatly across the counter-top. There were pancakes, fresh fruit, sausages and bacon, as well as syrup and whipped cream. Paul, being a gentleman, fixed you a plate with a little bit of everything and sat you down at the table.

“Paul, what’s all this for?” You asked, feeling slightly suspicious as to why he was making such a big deal over this.

“Can’t I just make you breakfast?” He had a slight hesitation before he replied. He fixed himself a plate and then he sat down in a seat across from yours. You assumed that was the best answer you were to get out of him, and just enjoyed your breakfast. He’d even gotten you a cup of coffee. Paul watched as you ate, feeling happy. This is how it should be, you in his home, eating breakfast slightly grumpy. He smiled warmly at the thought of you two waking up together, making breakfast, you complaining about this and that. Spending your days tending to the farm, feeding the chickens, riding the horses.

After breakfast, he gave you a pair of too big rubber boots and he showed you the farm. He owned three horses, all named something obscure. He also owned two pigs, five chickens, and even two goats. Each had their own pen, and small shelter. There was a large barn that held a small tractor, and a few bales of hay. It also harbored the other animals feed.

“I always remembered how you wanted to live on a farm.” Paul spoke softly, watching you spread the chicken feed. He thought you looked adorable in his spare pair of boots, that were indeed much to big for your feet. His heart warmed at the thought of this becoming a regular thing, tending to the animals together. Of course, you’d have your own size rubber boots by that time.

“I told you that when we were so young.” You spoke, setting the pan of seed down onto a nearby fence post. You looked up at him now. He had a look of adoration, leaning up against the chicken coop. Had Paul bought this home and farm for you? That’s just a ridiculous thought.

“(Y/N), I have something to confess.” He said after a few moments of consideration. You watched his face carefully, trying to assess what he was about to say. Did it have to do with Linda? “I- I’ve been feeling this way for a while.”

Oh god. Here it comes. He loves Linda. They’re back together, and she’s pregnant. You know it. Your chest tightened with each moment he didn’t speak. He was fiddling with one of the gate latches.

“I saw the article Paul.” You interrupted to him, not waiting to hear what he was going to say. You kicked some mud off your too big boots, and then looked up to see his reaction.

“Article?” He looked at you puzzled, now standing up straight.

“With you and Linda. I know. I know that you were with her.” You blurted. “I saw it in the newspaper this morning. You two, wrapped around each other looking happy go lucky. The picture was dated from three days ago.” Paul still looked at you puzzled. He shook his head, and ran his hand through his hair. You looked back down at the ground, feeling that gaping hole in your chest only grow in size. Him not answering only confirmed your fears. Well, you had a lovely run. As friends.

“I get it, we’re just friends. Paul, I- I-” You started, but Paul was quick to interrupt.

“No, you Idiot.” Your eyes raced to meet up with his, giving you a slight crick in your neck. “I’m in love with you.”

You gasped as the cavern in your chest immediately filled. Warmth filled your body, bringing feeling back into your fingers and toes. If you were holding something, you probably would’ve dropped it.

Paul’s body quickly wrapped around yours, as he rested both of his hands on the sides of your face, pulling you in for a kiss. You kissed him back, just a fiercely as he did to you. You grabbed his shirt by the sides and pulled him flush against you. It was like a typical, cheesy romantic movie. The kiss felt like twenty fireworks had been set off at once. Love was in the air; the cool, Autumn air.

“I love you too.” You managed to stumble out once you both broke for air. Happy tears stung your eyes. “I’ve loved you since I was 14.”

His hands slid down your back, now holding you tightly. He rested his forehead against yours, smiling softly. It was beautiful, with the chill Autumn air and sunshine billowing down onto you. The ambiance of the farm added to the romance.

“I knew the second I met you.” He spoke.

“You were eight years old.” You chuckled, kissing him again.

“I know a good bird when I meet one.” He winked. You shook your head with a giggle. You didn’t want to kill the moment, but you still had to ask what Paul was doing with Linda the other day. It was eating you up. If he loved you, then why would he be spending time with his Ex-Girlfriend.

“Paul, can I ask,” You paused, biting your lip, “What were you doing with Linda the other day?” You spoke softly, stepping out of his embrace.

“She was taking promotional pictures for the new album.” He replied. It didn’t even occur to you that Linda was a photographer, and her father was Paul’s manager. Of course. You’re an idiot, jumping to the worst conclusions.

“...Right.” You finally said, which a short laugh. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have assumed.” You kicked a few rocks, looking at your giant booted feet. Pauls hand gently grabbed your chin as he directed your attention up to him. He then kissed your forehead, and wrapped one arm around your waist.

“You know believing those stupid tabloids is rookie mistake number one.” Paul joked, finishing off with a quick peck to your lips. You savored the moment, being here with Paul. You knew at some point your Romantic-Comedy movie moment had to end. You wished it could be like this forever, but of course tomorrow you’d have to return to the bakery, and Paul would return to the studio.

“What will your fans think? Of us? I mean, You’re the last bachelor of the Beatles. I’m sure a lot of girls are going to be very disappointed.” You spoke up, while you and Paul walked back to the house. His hand held yours and it made you feel giddy. Sure, you’d been holding hands before but now there was meaning behind it and it was different.

“They’ll have to deal. I love you. Period.” He said, you could hear the happiness in his voice. It gave you butterflies. It’s crazy how three simple words could change your whole life. You two winding up together was such a fairy-tale moment.

You looked around at his vast property before entering the home. The chill air was starting to get to you, and you shivered slightly before the warmth of the fireplace brought you back to life. You poured yourself another cup of coffee, took off those ridiculous boots, and sat on the couch that was near the fire. Paul joined you a moment later, wrapping his arm behind you. You sighed, resting your head onto his shoulder. This is how life should have always been. You two should’ve been together years ago. However, if you did get together years ago he’d probably be working a dead end job, and you’d be a simple housewife.

“Do you want to know a secret?” Paul asked, after you two had been warmed back up by the fire. You adjusted your sitting position to look at him better.

“Yes, you know I love gossip.” You smiled wide. He laughed at your comment.

“I used to live in London, when we first reconnected. I-” He paused, a smiling interrupting his speech, “I bought this home and farm shortly after our first dinner. I knew that I wanted to spend the rest of my days with you. I never forgot all those rantings of you dreaming about owning a small farm, growing vegetables, raising animals.”

“Do you want me to cry?” You spoke, a happy tear running down your cheek. You laughed shortly and kissed him hard, straddling his lap. He rested his hands on your hips, occasionally grabbing your bum as you kissed. No, you two hadn’t had sex before. Though as teenagers there were a few close calls. Mostly being drunk from going to parties, especially after Paul joined The Quarrymen.

You two kept kissing, each one getting more hot and heavy. Paul was now firmly holding onto your bum, while your fingers were tangled in his hair. You could feel him progressively getting turned on, his hips occasionally coming up to meet yours. You would break the kisses with soft moans, which only fueled Paul to continue. He grabbed you tightly and flipped the two of you so he was now on top of you on the couch. He quickly helped you get rid of your sweater, leaving you in jeans and a bra.

“God, I’ve forgotten how gorgeous your chest is.” He muttered, littering your chest and the tops of your breasts with kisses, occasionally leaving a love bite. You continuously ran your fingers through his hair, moaning at the sensations of him. Paul sat up straight and took his long-sleeve off, revealing his torso. You bit your lip, running your hands all across his chest. You’d always been sexually attracted to Paul, who wasn’t?

“Do y’want to go up to the bedroom, Kitty?” He whispered in your ear. His accent getting heavy. You feverishly nodded, and the two of you stood up, practically running up the stairs and to the master bedroom.

-------------------------------------------

Taglist: @starlight-and-moonshine @tarantinoandmetal @brifilm @yllwtaxi I love you all <3

#the beatles fanfic #the beatles fanfiction #paul mccartney fanfic #paul mccartney x reader #the beatles x reader #paul x reader #classic rock fanfic #classic rock fanfiction

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joonbug22 · 6 years

Text

Sweet Things (Barista!Minhyuk AU)

Pairing: Female Reader x Barista!Minhyuk

Word Count: 1,212

Genre: Fluff mainly. Some mature language, but nothing wild.

“Don’t look now, but hottie barista is staring dead at you,” your best friend Kyra said to you under her breath.

It was the end of summer, but the heat of the season remained even through the start of the leaves turning red. The temperature was not lowering anytime soon, so y'all decided to dip into the new cafe that opened up, hoping to cool off in the AC and get something icy to sip on.

“Nuh-uh,” you said in disbelief still caught up in the shenanigans on your Instagram feed.

“Yeah, he totally is,” she smacked the table between you, getting your attention from your phone. “Okay look,” she finally instructed. You placed your phone on the tabletop and discretely peaked over your shoulder to behind the counter.

You almost swallowed your tongue when your eyes met his. Even though for a second, from across the room, his dark brown eyes became captivating and everyone else in the room stopped moving. He continued working, his lithe fingers moved to add whipped cream to top off a drink. You didn’t stop your eyes from moving up to completely check him out. His arms were thin, however, toned in his cotton polo. You couldn’t help but stare: his shoulders, his neck, and that jawline. If God was a Korean man, you were sure this is what he’d look like. Why would God be working in a coffee shop? You weren’t quite sure, but even if it wasn’t God, this had to be a sign from Her.

You could’ve sat there all day, staring at him- that’s if you weren’t interrupted from your thoughts by your name being called. It wasn’t Kyra who had called out to you though. This voice was raspy, almost sultry- okay not God, the devil.

“Your caramel frappe and iced coffee are ready,” you realized it was those perfectly pink lips of the world’s sexiest coffee boy that had called your name.

“Oh that’s me,” you jumped out of your seat, skipping to the pickup area of the cafe.

He waited patiently as you dodged through the labyrinth of tables and people, trying not to bump into anyone. It was particularly crowded for it being such a warm day outside. Like, who drinks coffee in this heat? Oh yeah, you do.

“Here are your drinks, miss,” the beautiful man offered you a kind smile that rivaled the shine of the sun. He handed you the drinks and his hands were so warm when they brushed against your own.

“Oh,” you pushed the frappe back towards him. “Can I get extra whipped cream? Sorry I didn't ask beforehand.”

“It’s no problem,” he winked at you before topping off the drink well over the top of the dome lid. “Here ya go. Is that extra enough for you?” he slid your cup across the counter to you.

“Perfect,” you smiled shyly before dipping your finger into the overflowing mountain of white and bringing it to your mouth.

“Great,” his distinct Adam's apple bobbed up and down and then you received two thumbs up from your new favorite barista. You couldn't help but notice the very tips of his ears turning a bright red. Was the whipped cream thing too crude?

“Thanks so much,” you leaned towards him, trying to get a better look at his name tag. “Min-hyuk?” you sounded it out as if you were asking if you had pronounced it correctly. A quick nod reassured you that you had. “Such a cute name for such a cute boy.” you unwrapped a straw for yourself. “Anyways, I'll let you get back to your work. Thanks again Minhyuk.” You wrapped your lips around the straw and proceeded to head back to your respective table.

“Damn girl, what took you so long to get two drinks?” Kyra took a sip from her ice coffee. “My ice all melted and shit. Next time, I’m picking them up.”

“Oh hush, Ky,” you uncrossed and crossed your legs and uncrossed them once more, glancing over your shoulder to behind the counter.

“What's wrong with you,” you best friend sensed your uneasiness. “Did you propose to dude or something?”

“No," you said defensively.

“Then why are you so fidgety?”

“Because,” you took in a breath. “I was kinda bold just now.” You winced at your own words. You were typically the shy type, never one to speak first, let alone go up to a guy and just start flirting. You didn’t know what had gotten into you in the spare of the moment, but you had a tiny Shia Labeouf in the back of your head telling you to “just do it!” so you did it.

“You mean bold?” Kyra pried. “Or do you mean bold, bold?”

“Oh my god. He’s coming over right now”

“Oh, so you bold, bold.”

“Ky, there's no time for twitter memes. What do I say to him?”

“I believe it was an Insta meme,” she corrected you.

“Say to who?” Minhyuk’s throaty voice came as a surprise to you, him being to close, so quickly.

“To you,” you dragged out the single syllable of each word as you turned your body to completely face him. “Um- aren't you supposed to be working?”

“Yeah, but I asked to take my break early,” he removed his cap, running a hand through disheveled hair, and for a moment you wondered if he’d look this good first thing in the morning with bed head.

“How do you like your eggs in the morning?” you blurted out, unable to keep your mouth from moving on its own. Minhyuk cracked a half smile, ears showcasing their tomato color once again.

“Well won’t you look at the time,” Kyra glanced at an imaginary watch on her wrist. “I just remembered that it’s my bedtime.”

“Kyra, you do not go to bed at 2:33pm,” you made ‘don’t leave me alone. You know I don't know how to talk to men’ eyes at her and suddenly the bitch was blind.

“Yeah,” she got up from the table, gathering her things. “I usually don’t, however, I happen to have a thing at 2 am and need to get to sleep pretty soon.” she faked a yawn. “Have fun y’all,” she made a lewd gesture with both hands and then she was out the door. Minhyuk took her seat at the table.

“So,” you found yourself saying that word much longer than you anticipated.

“So,” Minhyuk imitated you, elongating the word in a similar fashion. “Why do you take so much cream on your frappes?”

“Because I like sweet things,” you said with a shrug as if the answer was that simple. To you it was. “Why did you take your break early?” you cocked your head to the side, curls falling into your face. Minhyuk mirrored you.

“Because,” your body stilled when Minhyuk’s hand came near and pushed the strands behind your ear. “I too enjoy sweet things.” He said it as if the answer was simple. To him it was.

Your palms immediately came up to cover your cheeks, feeling them fill up with heat. Minhyuk only smiled in reply to your reaction, delighted to see that he had the same effect on you as you had on him.

#Lee Minhyuk #Minhyuk #Monsta X #monsta x minhyuk #kpop and black girls #black girls and kpop #black kpop fans #monsta x and black girls #POC kpop fans #poc kpop #monsta x fanfic #monsta x fic #monsta x scenarios #monsta x imagines

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cosmiicorvid · 5 years

Note

All of them

The meaning behind my url:About two years ago I was looking through Jack’s posts on his blog and I saw one of his responses for a piece of fan art, he said “that is one spicy spedicey!” and I immediately thought ‘that would be a great blog url… but someone probably already took it’ so i didn’t do anything about it. I had that as my name on discord and everyone loved it so i decided to try to change my url on here and it worked! so uhhh…. yeet

A picture of me:auuhh i can’t add a picture on desktop but,,, y’all have seen me already sksksks,,, but i’ll reblog this with a pic maybe

How many tattoos i have and what they are:I don’t have any tattoos!

Last time i cried and why:I cried while watching Ralph Breaks the Internet… it was sad bro

Piercings i have:I used to have my ears pierced but i didn’t wear them enough so they closed

Favorite band:my favourite band is Set it Off! Either them or Linkin Park

Biggest turn offs: friendship-wise anyone who has manipulative tendencies

Top 5 (insert subject):Top five animals! Bats, raccoons, corgis, snakes, cheetahs

Tattoos i want:I want a semicolon on my wrist and a PMA tattoo somewhere

Biggest turn ons:uuahhh…. friendship-wise would be… comedic

Age:eighteen

Ideas of a perfect date:That’s a tough one. I’d have to say April 25th. Because it’s not too hot, not too cold, all you need is a light jacket.

Life goal: to,,, survive?? meet my online friends,,,

Piercings i want:I would love a nose piercing

Relationship status:single uwu

Favorite movie:Now You See Me (listen, it has a great cast AND it’s about magic what more could i ask for)

A fact about my life:I have six siblings

Phobia:the dark…. or as i said earlier, the fear of what’s hiding there

Middle name:Nicholas!

Height:5′

Are you a virgin?*cough*

What’s your shoe size?i don’t even know at this point. just small

What’s your sexual orientation?I’m a trans guy and i’m panromantic

Do you smoke, drink, or take any drugs?I have not smoked a cigarette, but i do drink and do weed occasionally

Someone you miss:Ethan

What’s one thing you regret?Coming out to my dad

First celebrity you think of when someone says attractive:Sean William McLoughlin

Favorite ice cream?Birthday cake

One insecurity:sometime it bugs me how short I actually am. only occasionally, but it does get to me

What my last text message says:“ok enough of this christmas party i wanna go home cunts” (sent by @cyanacity)

Have you ever taken a picture naked?Yea

Have you ever painted your room?yep, painted a tree on it and it was special paint so you could use chalk on it

Have you ever kissed a member of the same sex?Y e a p

Have you ever slept naked?Yeyeeyeyeye

Have you ever danced in front of your mirror?Of course I have, who hasn’t??

Have you ever had a crush?Yes, a lot,,,,

Have you ever been dumped?Yea

Have you ever stole money from a friend?Yeah,,,, but I payed them back! cause i felt really bad

Have you ever gotten in a car with people you just met?Yes I have, even went on a camping trip with them

Have you ever been in a fist fight?No, but i once slapped a bitch so hard that he fell down

Have you ever snuck out of your house?I almost did a few times as a kid but i never actually did it ftgyhuj

Have you ever had feelings for someone who didn’t have them back?hhhhhhhyeah……

Have you ever been arrested?Nope! the law can’t hold me down though

Have you ever made out with a stranger?Nnnnope

Have you ever met up with a member of the opposite sex somewhere?no but i met up with someone of the same sex

Have you ever left your house without telling your parents?Yes, many times because i am an A D U L T

Have you ever had a crush on your neighbor?i’ve never met my neighbors, so by process of elimination the answer is no

Have you ever ditched school to do something more fun?All the time babey

Have you ever slept in a bed with a member of the same sex?Yeeyeyeyeyeyeye

Have you ever seen someone die?I saw my dog die, if that counts

Have you ever been on a plane?Yes, i fly at least 6 times a year

Have you ever kissed a picture?Yes, who hasn’t

Have you ever slept in until 3?I actually did that today

Have you ever loved someone or miss someone right now?Yes

Have you ever laid on your back and watched cloud shapes go by?yesss, it’s a fun thing to do on a nice day

Have you ever made a snow angel?yeah, i used to make them all the time when i was a kid but it doesn’t snow much where i live now so, rip

Have you ever played dress up?hell yeah my dude

Have you ever cheated while playing a game?definitely, cause i suck at them so i have to at least make it seem like i’m good

Have you ever been lonely?All the time man, feelin it right now *whip*

Have you ever fallen asleep at work/school?I’ve fallen asleep at school maybe 3 times?

Have you ever been to a club?idk what you mean by club so no

Have you ever felt an earthquake?Nope! never have

Have you ever touched a snake?Yes i have, i love the danger noodles

Have you ever ran a red light?haha, no

Have you ever been suspended from school?Maybe??? when i was in elementary school

Have you ever had detention?I think so??? but it was like,,, lunch detention or somethin

Have you ever been in a car accident?Luckily, no. But i have been close.

Have you ever hated the way you look?oh hell yeah babey all the time

Have you ever witnessed a crime?Maybe, idk gyhnj

Have you ever pole danced?No but i want to

Have you ever been lost?i’m lost right now, i don’t who’s house i’m in

Have you ever been to the opposite side of the country?Ye! it was fun uwu

Have you ever felt like dying?ehhhh??? yeah

Have you ever cried yourself to sleep?yeah..,.,.,.,.

Have you ever sang karaoke?i don’t think i have tbh, but i’ve seen people do it at a bar once

Have you ever done something you told yourself you wouldn’t?Yeah,,,, weed

Have you ever laughed until something you were drinking came out your nose?No actually, surprisingly

Have you ever slept with someone at least 5 years older or younger?nooopeee

Have you ever kissed in the rain?noep

Have you ever sang in the shower?every heckin time

Have you ever made out in a park?nope

Have you ever dream that you married someone?maybe

Have you ever glued your hand to something?I once accidentally superglued my hands together

Have you ever got your tongue stuck to a flag pole?No, but i have licked a few

Have you ever gone to school partially naked?nnoooo??? i don’t udnerstand this question gyusi

Have you ever been a cheerleader?No fuck that sorry

Have you ever sat on a roof top?Yes! it’s quite fun actually

Have you ever brushed your teeth?I sure hope so

Have you ever been too scared to watch scary movies alone?all the time sksksksk

Have you ever played chicken?I used to play it at the bus stop every day

Have you ever been pushed into a pool with all your clothes on?i think it’s happened like 4 times probably

Have you ever been told you’re hot by a complete stranger?Yeah,,, it was w e i r d ???

Have you ever broken a bone?I’ve broken both my arms and my thumb

Have you ever been easily amused?I laughed at a picture of Mark with the quote ‘fuck’ once, so I would say yes

Have you ever laughed so hard you cried?yes, especially when i’m on a voice call with my friends

Have you ever mooned/flashed someone?nope, actually

Have you ever cheated on a test?hellyeea

Have you ever forgotten someone’s name?I’m bad with names so it’s easy for me to forget them

Have you ever met someone who didn’t seem real?Myself

Give us one thing about you that no one knows.my credit card info:6969 6969 6969 69684/20666@nachosforfree @xtracheesy

#long post #(o hes neat: emmit)#(im not the android: connor)

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iluvmyogblog · 6 years

Text

Roommates, Routines and Best Friends

A/N: GODD SEB LOOKS SO GOOD IN THIS GIF! anyways, im on a roll here, i have so many ideas of whats to come.... its gonna be a ride. 👀👀

Summary: (AU) being roommates with the infamous womanizer Bucky Barnes is tough, especially when all he does is bring home different girls every night and complain about you and your choice of men. masterlist.

Words: 2328

Warning(s): language, always. BUCKY!!! im cryyin

Roommates, Routines and Best Friends : Tell Me All About It... kidding

You woke up the next day - one p.m - with a smile. And yeah, a slight headache but you didn’t mind. Last night, Steve walked you to the door. He told you goodnight and gave you one last kiss before letting you dive into your sheets. You couldn’t have asked for a better date. You woke up and walked to the kitchen. You enjoyed being off on the weekends. You really did. Especially when you spend the day doing things you like. On Sunday’s, you and Bucky sit on the sofa together and watch the Shark Tank marathon all day- even though they’re reruns. You looked around the kitchen and noticed he wasn’t digging in the fridge like he usually was. You set the pancake batter on the counter and walk to his room.

“Bucky,” you call out. You walk into his room and hear the shower going on. You sigh and walk back to the kitchen, throwing your head back. Guess you would have to make the pancakes. Before opening the box of batter, you take aspirins and hope that your headache resides asap. You start to mix the batter with eggs and water, trying to whip them the way Bucky does. No matter what you do, they never come out like his. Not even when his hand is guiding yours, practically doing all the work- just with your hand under his. That was the day that you had ever felt butterflies around him. He was being lazy, and you were stubborn about learning how to make pancakes the way Bucky did.

“(Y/n), look this is literally all you have to do,” Bucky said as he started pouring water into the bucket of batter you had in front of you. You sighed frustratingly and ran your fingers through your hair, watching his movements.

“Bucky, I can’t do that. You have bigger hands than me. You do it, I give up,” you said as you began to walk to the living room. You turn on your heels and feel a soft grasp on your wrist. You get pulled back to Bucky’s chest, he swiftly turns you around so that your back is pressed against him.

“Look, doll,” you feel his warmth breath hit your shoulder as he grabs the bucket and puts it directly in front of you. He grabs your right hand and places your hand around the fork (since you guys don’t care to invest in an actual whisk). “Now, kind of lift this side of the bucket. You know, to provide a good angle to whisk this shit,” he says as he grabs your left hand and places it on the other side of the bucket, motioning for you to lift that side slightly. You laugh softly and comply.

“Okay, I think I got it-”

“No, you’re mixing it too slow. Here,” he says as he places his right hand on top of yours. You heart skips a beat. This was too overwhelming. Bucky’s hands were on yours. Your ass was practically pressed against him, his chin grazing the top of your head. ‘What the hell’ you thought. Bucky wasn’t even thinking straight. He genuinely didn’t think nothing of what was going on. He was solely teaching you how to correctly whisk pancake batter. You started to get nervous. You were wondering if he could tell. He couldn’t. He was too focused on how good your hair smelled, and mostly on how you really suck at whisking.

You nodded, “alright Buck, I think I got it now.” He nods and lets go of your hands, stepping away from you. You swallow the lump in your throat and shift on your feet. Bucky looked at you up and down, taking in your figure. You were wearing his t-shirt. He clenches his jaw and shakes every urge to wrap his arms around you.

“Alright, doll. You don’t need me to make you pancakes anymore.”

You chuckle and turn to him. “Woah, slow down. I haven’t even poured the batter into the pan. That’s your job. You’re perfect,” you say with a kind smile. You clear your throat, “...at flipping the pancakes.” He smirks and shrugs.

“Move over. Let Chef Barnes take over,” he says cooly as he gently pushes you aside.

You assumed you got butterflies only because he was so close in contact with you, so you quickly got over that. You pour circles of batter onto the hot pan and wait patiently for the perfect time to flip them, Bucky went over this step a hundred times - in depth each time, so you eventually got accustomed to the exact second to flip. After you made ten pancakes, you begin making eggs.

“Smells good in here,” you hear Bucky say. You smile and turn to him.

“I know,” you begin to lay the bacon into a pan and watch Bucky make his way over to you. You notice he was wearing pants and his fancy cashmere sweater. You furrowed your eyebrows together and looked at his feet- he was wearing shoes. “Um, you leaving?” He nods as he bites into a pancake.

“These are delicious.”

“Where,” you ask. It was y’alls day. He never cancels on the weekend. You look up at him and catch his gaze.

“I’m gonna run some errands,” he says. You don’t believe him. You bite your cheek and put your hand on your hip. His lips curl into a smirk and he throws his head back. He didn’t know what to come up with. The video Steve sent him from your phone caused an uproar in his stomach. The truth was, he didn’t want to hear about your date with Steve. He didn’t want to hear you gush over him. He didn’t want to hear you tell him what y’all did. He was going out to avoid that conversation, and to hopefully get laid. He couldn’t keep you in his mind. It was killing him. You nudge his arm, causing him to look down at you. You were the perfect height for him. Your hair fell just past your shoulders. You actually brushed it, which you rarely do on Sunday’s, he noticed that. You were wearing a cropped top shirt that had paint all over it from that time Bucky wanted to paint his bedroom - weird right? And you were in those high waisted pajama shorts that you found at a thrift store. Bucky loved those on you.

“You’re lying to me, Buck,” you say softly. He clenches his jaw and reaches around you, flipping the bacon in the pan. You turn your head and watch his hands control the fork, moving the bacon around.

“You wanna tell me about your date, don’t you?” He watches your lips curl up into a smile. He swallows again, blinking away the jealousy. He turns off the stove and grabs some plates while you reach up and grab glasses, pouring orange juice into them. No matter the time, you and Bucky had to have breakfast.

“I do.”

He nods and sits on the stool near the counter you’re leaning on. “Okay, tell me, doll.” You smile, tugging your bottom lip between your teeth as you push your eggs to the side with your fork. Bucky studies your face. The dimple in your right cheek just teases him. Your light brown eyes illuminate from the sunlight outside. It hurts him. You hurt him. Looking at you and knowing you’re not his hurts him. He likes you. A lot. And he has for a while. But he’s just realizing it now. How cliché of him to do so. You lick your lips and begin to speak.

“Bucky, he’s perfect, Buck,” you say dreamingly. He clenches his jaw and nods, forcing a smile. You tell him about the movies, about the popcorn thing. You tell him the flavor of ice cream he bought you, Steve’s favorite. Mint. “I mean, don’t get me wrong, it was good and i appreciate him paying but..”

“You wanted strawberry, didn’t you,” Bucky says with a soft chuckle. You nod, looking at him as you take a bite of your bacon. In just a few months, Bucky knew you like the back of his hand. And that’s why Bucky felt like Steve didn’t have the right to swoop in and save the day.

“And he took me to this sandwich place. Willie’s. It was phenomenal. I loved it. After we ate, we went to the bar. Had a few drinks, a few laughs, shared some stories.” You glanced up at Bucky, making sure he was still listening. He was finishing up his pancakes, working on his eggs. He took a bite of his bacon. “I kissed him.” He sits up and puts his fork down, chewing his last bite and swallowing as he props himself on the counter with his elbows. You study his facial expression. He scans your face, his eyes always falling back to your lips.

“You kissed him?”

You nod, smiling softly. “It was... magical,” you said as you ran your fingers across your lips. Bucky’s heart fell to his stomach. He smiled again, nodding. He began to get up, you copied his actions. You guys always seemed to finish at the same time. You grabbed his plate and stuffed it in the sink alongside yours. He walks to the fridge and looks at the pictures you stuck to it. You look up at him. You didn’t know what he was thinking. You wanted him to talk to you. Give you advice. But he was at a loss for words.

“I remember the day we took these pictures,” he mumbles as he points to a picture of himself with paint on his face, a big smile as he looks directly into the camera. It was that day you helped him paint his room, which just resulted in a very cliché paint war. You smile and walk over to him, standing beside him. Your arm brushed against his. The back of his hand brushes against your thigh.

“That was a fun day,” you beam as you lean your head against his bicep. He nods and glances down at you.

“When are you seeing him again,” he asks. You rock back and forth on your feet and smile.

“I’m not sure, soon.”

Bucky didn’t want you to say that. He didn’t know what he wanted you to say, but he knew it wasn’t that. He clenches his jaw and watches you walk to your room. He follows behind you. His hands start to shake a little. “Hey, doll,” he calls after you. You turn around quickly and look at him.

“What’s up, Bucky,” you ask as you walk closer to him. He opens his mouth to say something, to say how pretty he thought you were when you looked up at him. Or to say how cute your sneeze was, or how attractive you looked when you would play Call Of Duty with him. But he couldn’t.

“Steve’s a lucky guy. I hope that punk knows it,” is what he says. You grin and wrap your arms around his torso, leaning your head onto his chest. His heartbeat was fast.

“Thank you, James. Really,” you say as you look up at him, resting your chin on his chest, “if it wasn’t for you dragging me to that party and leaving me for some blonde bimbo, I wouldn’t have met Steve.” Bucky furrows his brows.

“Huh?”

You scoff and put your head back on his chest. His hands linked together, resting on the small of your back. “You know, that blonde girl. You asked if I wanted a drink and I said yes. You went to get me one but then I saw you chatting up some blonde chick,” you say and then giggle, “Bucky, I honestly thought we were on a date, you jerk.”

He looked down at you. “What?”

You laugh and nod, looking up at him, “yeah, i thought you asked me to go with you, like you know- as your date.” You stop laughing and gaze into his eyes. He didn’t know. He didn’t know you thought that at all. His brows were furrowed. He was pissed. He was mad at you, at himself. And at that blonde girl, she was no one. All Bucky did was say what drinks he had in his hand. The blonde girl had a boyfriend standing right next to her, how did you miss that? “I know, it was dumb of me to think that,” you say with a nervous chuckle.

“It’s not dumb, (y/n).”

“But it all worked out, I met Steve. You got laid,” you say as you pat his chest and run your hands to his, unhooking yourself from his trap.

“Yeah, I got laid and you met Steve,” he says as he watches you smile, nodding and walking away from him. “I’ll talk to you when you get home,” you say as you shut your door behind you, leaving Bucky with his thoughts.

He only got laid because he was upset with you that night. When he turned his attention from the blonde asking what flavor drinks he had, his eyes landed on Steve and you talking. And everyone knows, when Steve talks to you... he’s got you. You had this look in your eyes. A look he wasn’t familiar with. He was upset. Upset because he didn’t read his social cues correctly, he didn’t read you correctly but anyways. How can Bucky compete with a gentleman who opens doors and kisses foreheads? All Bucky knows is how to have sex and flirt. Obviously doesn’t know how to read signs. He blew his chance and he knew it. But if you thought it was a date, that would mean you wanted to go on that date with him. Bucky couldn’t help but think about every possible scenario. Maybe he did have a chance after all.

•••

What exactly happened at that party? 👀 Does Bucky have a chance..? 👀👀

Tag(s): @coal000 @goldenstateof @cherrywinedarling@justahappylilblog @faakelanadelrey@juicyqueenlme @ourdreamsrealized @boyzines@bornfortherainydays @fightmeandmy100fandoms @deadpoolgirl23@bethanyv10 @ilovethings-somuch @spidey-linquentimagines@lilypalmer1987 @gravity-9-8 @vivianbabz@imeannooffensebabybut @queendade @irepeldirt @petals-overdaisies @warishaadnan @sweetmockingbird @loki7ms@chickennacho1 @dakotacheyennee @starkxpotts@sighscassidyy @jellzu @krockszz @lowkeysebbychuckennuggets1213 @wowbarnes @eccentric-impulsesdugan365 @frackinawesomeninja @cosmetologynerd @straight–on-til-morning @sophiealiice @barnes-and-noble-girl @satans-knitting-club @grosskyjaja @xunicornwhovianx @evetheplumcravingmustard @raventt5-bb @dedicated-fangirl-forever@sarahp879 @fandomlover03 @bands-and-shietz@wintersoldierbarnes @keepyoureyesopenwide @i-am-moody-yes-i-am @fandoms-will-collide

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers #rrbf #bucky barnes AU #bucky barnes fanfiction

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fortheloveofeos · 7 years

Text

Birthday Cake - Ignis Scientia

Here’s a little Iggy fluff for you all. I’m going to work through his character here and see how it all goes before I try and do anything NSFW with him. I’m also thinking of maybe doing something with him like I’ve done with Prompto and showing a darker side of his character?

This is a short drabble more than anything. Please let me know if this is even sort of like Ignis because I’ve never written anything for him. Hope y’all enjoys!

XXX

One thing. You just wanted to do one nice thing for your boyfriend for his birthday and there you were covered in flour with tears of frustration in your eyes staring into the glass mixing bowl. It had taken you several hours but there was nothing else to be done. Heaving a sigh, you poured the light pink batter into the two pans and popped them into the oven.

You had gotten the idea to make Ignis a cake for his birthday a few weeks before. Prompto had brought up Iggy’s birthday in hopes of having an excuse to throw him a party. True to character, Ignis had waved away the idea due to a busy schedule what with some visiting dignitaries on top of his normal work load, Deflated, Prompto had gotten him to agree to a small gathering of some close friends the following weekend.

Ignis had seemed more than fine with a small and intimate gathering of friends, but you knew how much he despised store bought cake and that no one else was going to offer to make him one. Honestly, Prompto would do well to remember his own name when he got this excited about something. So, you had waited until Iggy had left that morning before using your key to let yourself into his apartment to search for his recipe book.

The small leather bound notebook had been tucked into his nightstand exactly where you knew it would be. There were well over a dozen recipies for cake in the small notebook, but towards the back you had found a recipe with a small star by its name. You were certain Iggy had talked about this particular recipe a few days before when you mentioned how strawberries reminded you of summer. Naturally, you had decided on his homemade chocolate buttercream frosting to pair with it.

The trip to the grocery store was where everything had started to go wrong. Ignis’ notes on the proper ingredients were meticulous. So much so that some of the ingredients he called for weren’t in any of the stores you called. You had been forced to make a few substitutions for things you knew would work and just hope for the best. Things continued to spiral down hill when you began with the cake batter. The bag of flour had somehow managed to fall out of the grocery bag placed far away from the edge of the counter onto the pristine hardwood floor of your boyfriend’s apartment and busted. Flour now coated the kitchen in a fine layer of white powder. Thankfully, there had been enough for the batter but not much else.

Knowing the frosting would be easier, you’d made that recipe before, you set to work cleaning the kitchen back up. You had only just managed to sweep the last of the flour up when the oven timer went off. Carefully, you removed the layers of cake from the oven and placed them on the counter to cool. You didn’t bother with the directions for the frosting as you threw everything into the bowl before using the mixer to whip it until it was light and fluffy. You tossed in some mini chocolate chips into the frosting as a surprise and moved to trim the layers of cake so they would lie flat on the cake stand.

Carefully, you placed the bottom layer onto the cake stand so that it was centered. Next, you spread a thin layer of whipped cream and sliced fresh strawberries on top before placing the second layer over it. The frosting was thick and creamy as you spread it over the two layers. The small chocolate chips in the mixture added a fun texture that you hoped Iggy would like.

With a start, you jumped as the alarm on your phone blared out. You had about thirty minutes before Iggy came home. You changed quickly and threw your hair up into a quick braid before rushing back into the kitchen to add the finishing touched to your boyfriend’s birthday cake. Using all your skills as a cake decorator (that had been a short lived time in college), you carefully arranged fresh strawberries, slices of strawberries, chocolate chips, and puffs of whipped cream. You had only managed to finished placing the candles when the front front door opened.

“Darling?” Ignis called into the apartment, surprised to find your shoes by the door. He couldn’t remember having made plans. When you didn’t answer he called your name once more.

“Kitchen,” you nervously called as you looked over the cake once more. Six, this had better be the best damn cake.

Ignis stopped in the entryway of the kitchen before placing his bag onto the counter. “Happy birthday!” You beamed at you boyfriend as you lit the final candle and held the cake out towards him. “Make a wish,” you giggled at the childish idea.

With a chuckle, Ignis closed his eyes and leaned forward and blew just hard enough for the flames to burn out. When he opened his sea foam green eyes once more, they sparkled with love and adoration as they focused on you. “You made this?”

Feigning anger, you pressed a fist into your chest. “Ignis Scientia, I’ll have you know I’m a wonderful baker.”

Rifling through the drawer for utensils to cut and serve the cake, he laughed a beautiful and joyful sound that spread through his apartment. It was good to hear him sound so carefree in the midst of his busy life. “I did not mean to insinuate otherwise. It’s just that I normally do all the cooking.”

“How could I deny you your passion?” You grabbed two saucers from the cabinet and started the coffee pot so that he could enjoy a fresh mug of Ebony with his cake.

Ever the gentleman, Ignis offered you the first piece before taking one for himself. You scooped up the plates while he fixed the coffees and followed you into the living room. “Is this…my strawberry cake recipe?” He focused his eyes onto the bite of fluffy pink and spotted cake on his fork. When you giggled, his cheeks blushed a matching pink. He pushed his glasses up his nose before taking a bite. You leaned forward unintentionally as you waited for him to comment. “It’s quite delicious,” he smiled.

Unable to stop yourself, you crashed your lips against his. He tasted like a mixture of the sweet strawberry cake and the bitter Ebony coffee. It was enough to make you moan softly. “I’m glad you like it,” you whispered against his lips.

Ignis sighed and moved you so that you were seated in his lap, the arm of the couched pressed against your back to support you. He handed you your coffee but elected to feed you the cake himself, stealing bites between. Once the cake was finished, you relaxed against his strong, lean frame and listened to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. You had nearly drifted to sleep when he shifted beneath you. “Is there…flour in your hair?”

You groaned as his long fingers gracefully dusted the powder from you hair. “There was…an issue with the cake. But it all turned out okay, right?”

Ignis laughed and pressed a sweet kiss to your forehead. “It was perfect. Much better than what I’m sure Prompto will deem appropriate this weekend,” he shuttered slightly at the idea and you couldn’t help but giggle. His soft lips pressed against your nose once before capturing yours in a kiss. “I cannot help but wonder about my gift,” he whispered sultrily whispered into your ear. Chills raced across your skin as his hot breath danced along your neck. One hand light gripped your hips while the other tangled into your hair. “Surely you do not intend to make me wait for the weekend?”

This man was going to be the death of you and you didn’t mind at all. “Mmm,” you sighed before kissing him and slipping out of his grip. You carefully backed away towards his bedroom, your eyes locked onto his. You watched as they shifted from the light and playful sea foam they usually were to a dark and enticing forest green.

“I need time to wrap it,” you spoke innocently and bit your lip, your eyes trained on his.

Ignis glanced at the watch on his wrist. “You have five minutes before I break down the door,” he promised.

With a sequel, you headed for the ensuite bathroom to don the lacy garments in the lingerie bag you’d hidden inside.

#ignis scientia #ignisapproved #ignis x reader #prompto argentum #gladiolus amicitia #noctis lucis caelum #ffxv #ff15 #final fantasy #final fantasy xv #final fantasy 15 #final fantasy fanfic #final fantasy fanfiction

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