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wandussyfantasy · 15 hours

Note

request (i hope its still open)

powerbottom!Wanda x Beefy G!P reader

(this is gonna be kinda long and dirty so be prepared)

Reader and Wanda are both college students who have been mutual pining each other, Wanda tells Nat that she likes reader and really wants to get down and dirty with them but doesn't know what to do Nat gives Wanda these chocolates (which is like those sex Viagra chocolate things) and tells Wanda to invite reader over for a movie night and share the chocolate, and that leads to hella sexual tension and they both can't hold it in anymore and fuck, Wanda rides readers abs and also handcuffs reader to the bed and she teases reader a lot and after a while reader just wants to touch Wanda so bad that they break the handcuffs which turns Wanda on even more and they fuck hard, lots of overstimulation and maybe some breeding (also maybe some fluff at the end as well as reader wants to live in this moment forever so reader uses Wanda's polaroid cam to take a pic of her naked and saves it in their wallet)

sorry this is long but if you do decide to write it just have fun with it and add your own stuff as well, love your fics <3

Study Date

Summary: Wanda and Reader have wanted each other for so long. Natasha, being the good friend that she is, helps the two speed things along and realize just how much they want each other.

Pairings: Wanda x NB!AMAB!Reader

Word Count: 4,767

WARNINGS:

18+ ONLY, MINORS DO NOT READ & DO NOT INTERACT!!!

smut, gn!reader shapeshifter, powerbottom!lwanda, fingering, dirty talk, fluff, fantasies, teasing, foreplay, and creampie.

𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐄 𝐍𝐒𝐅𝐖 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓. 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐂𝐄𝐄𝐃 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐂𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍

“Hey Wanda, I noticed you weren't in class today. I thought I'd lend you my notes,” you say as you hand the pretty girl from your expository writing class your notebook. She smiles as she accepts your offering.

“Awe, you're so sweet! You didn't have to do that! Thank you, I'll type this up and get it back to you as soon as possible,” she says. You smile back and tell her to take her time. The conversation falls flat but you don't want to stop talking to her. You stand there awkwardly as you try to think of something to keep the conversation going. Wanda was doing the same, she didn't want you to leave. She wanted to keep talking to you. She always wants to talk to you. “Hey, I heard there is going to be a party this weekend. My brother is hosting it so I'm going to be there and so will other people. Because it's a party! And that's how… anyway are you going?” Wanda asks nervously as she fiddles with the notebook in her hands. Natasha tries her best to not be repulsed by Wanda’s bad attempt at asking you out. She had no idea that her friend was crushing so hard on someone, let alone you.

“Nah, I have a lot of studying to do,” you reply without giving the invitation much thought. “Maybe another time? This semester has been kicking my ass and I might lose my scholarship if I don't get my grades up.” You admit as you shift on your feet awkwardly.

Wanda frowns and looks hopeless. Natasha rolls her eyes and then cuts in. “Wanda is a fantastic tutor,” she says. “Maybe you should ask her to tutor you,” she spells it out for you when all you said was cool.

“I mean. Um. Would you have time to? I would really appreciate it,” you say as you gesture at Wanda.

“Uh,” she looks at her friend.

“She is available tonight,” Natasha offers up. “I have plans so she’ll be alone in the dorm.” Natasha scribbles down information on a piece of paper and hands it off to you. “Let’s go,” she grabs Wanda and pulls her away.

“See you later!” You shout at them as they leave.

Natasha shakes her head as they continue to walk away. “That was pathetic,” she says to her friend. “I know you’re new to flirting but,” she starts as she opens the door for their dorm building. “That was not flirting. That was just… sad.”

Wanda shakes her head, “I know. I know. I’ve never liked anyone the way I like Y/n before. I want them in ways that I’ve never wanted anyone before.” She presses her palm to her forehead as she blushes.

“Like, losinging your v-card type of want?” Natasha’s eyes widen as her voice lowers while they walk to the elevators. “You hardly wanted to lose it to your Vision! And you were with him for three years!”

“I know!” Wanda says as they enter the elevator. “But gosh, there is something about Y/n that has me,” she stops as someone enters the elevator. She puts her hand on Natasha’s shoulder and sends her a mind message to continue the conversation privately. “I’ve had several wet dreams about Y/n since I saw them running around the track field shirtless.”

Natasha looks at Wanda with wide eyes and thinks, “They had their titties out on the field?”

Wanda shakes her head. “No, they have a shapshifting ability. It’s why they prefer they/them pronouns because they can shift their physical appearance to how they feel they that day. And that day it was a male chest and it was strong and sweaty and-”

“Ok! I don’t need to know anymore. But that is quite an ability, I’m sure a lot of gender nonconforming people would love to have an ability like that.” She said out loud as they stepped out of the elevator. Wanda agreed.

“I think they can do more but I could hardly focus. I started to imagine the possibilities and I was just happy mind reading isn’t one of their abilities.” Wanda says as they enter the dorm.

“I’m glad it’s not an ability of mine either,” Natasha says as she opens the mini fridge. She flips through the different types of chocolate bars that she owns and smiles when she finds the one she it looking for. “I’ve been saving this for a rainy day and honey, it’s getting pretty cloudy.” She hands the chocolate bar over to Wanda.

“Oh, I’ve been craving chocolate all day!” Natasha stops her roommate from eating the candy.

“Woah, not so fast. Wait for your date tonight. Share it with Y/n,” she suggests.

“Why?” Wanda makes a weird face as she tries to figure out what is special about the unlabeled candy.

“Just trust me,” Natasha quickly puts on a special bracelet that prevents anyone with telepathic or empathic abilities from entering her mind and she smiles as she flashes it at Wanda. “The less you know, the better.” She starts to gather her belongings. “I will be out all night. I gave Y/n your phone number so you should be receiving a text or something soon.” She looks around the room to assure herself that she has everything she needs. “Good luck, Wanda. I hope it all goes well. Just please don’t use my bed.”

Wanda rolled her eyes at the bracelet and smiled at her friends departing words. The hug each other, “Thank you.” Natasha leaves the room. Wanda flops onto her bed as she waits for you to text her. She thinks about the times she’s seen you half-naked and sweating. How she’s wished to have your body on top of hers. Wanda bites her bottom lip as she fights the urge to slip her fingers between her legs and imagine that they are yours.

Her phone pings with a notification and she springs up to look at it. It’s you asking what time you should arrive. She licks her lips she tries to make a flirty response but she ends up cringing at everything she types. She settles on just telling you to meet her an hour from now and flops back onto her bed with a sigh. She needed to get it together because in anhour you would be in her room and you needed tutoring. And some how she needed to work in sharing the mysterious chocolate bar with you.

Wanda changed into something a little more suggestive and flashed on a set of lingerie underneath, just in case she became brave enough to try something with you. She cleaned up the room a bit and lit a candle that was enchanted to keep sound in any room that it was lit in. She doesn’t know why but she has a feeling she’s going to get her way and she won’t be quiet about it when she does.

“Smells nice in here,” You say as you enter Wanda’s room. She shuts the door behind you.

“Thank you, it’s a new candle I made. I kind of got into the trend,” she says sheepishly as she stands behind you. There wasn’t room for a sofa in the dorm room so there isn’t one. There was only beds and desk chairs as seating options. “You can sit at my desk,” she points to the desk that is between the beds.

“Thanks,” you say with a blush, “Um, if you’re selling your candles, I would love to buy some from you.” Wanda’s cheeks flush bright pink as well as she sits on her bed.

“I think I have a couple that I can gift you,” she smiles as she gets comfortable. “Alright, so what subject are we starting with?” She asks as you are pulling assignments out of your bookbag and setting them on her desk. She looks at the chocolate bar that was left on her bed and tries to think of how she can offer it to you without it seeming weird.

“Um chemistry has been brutal,” you say as you organize yourself. You try to keep your eyes on the work in front of you because her shirt was tighter than the one you saw her in a couple of hours ago. It was hard enough to be around her when she had loose fitting clothing on. Now that it was accentuating her chest, you thought you might pass out.

“Chemistry happens to be my strongest subject!” Wanda says as she leans over to look at your papers. She quickly gets into helping learn the formulas that you struggled with as well as a lot of the vocabulary that you had mixed up. Deep into the study session, Wanda starts to mindlessly break off pieces of the chocolate bar and eat it.

You accept the pieces that she offers and by the time you've moved onto math, the chocolate bar is gone. You start to feel even hornier than when first walked in but you try to focus on the subject.

“It's kind of hot in here,” Wanda says as she fans herself with her hand. She doesn't know why but her body is on fire. Her clothes feel horrible on her skin but she can't take it off. Not with you here. Oh but she wishes she could convince you to take your clothes off.

“Yeah, it um it is,” you shift uncomfortably as your eyes land on her glistening chest. Wanda’s eyes are glued to your chest as well. The sweat on your body was causing the white fabric of your shirt to become see through. The shirt was clinging to your abs, exposing your six-pack. “Maybe I should um-”

“Fuck me,” Wanda gasps out as she bites her lips. “I'm sorry, I don't know where that came from I-” You cut her off with your lips. Finally kissing her after spending the past few years pining for her. Wanda responds to the kiss just as eagerly. She pulls on your shirt to pull you closer to her until you land on top of her. Your body against hers on her bed. She couldn't think of anything but your lips and your body. She needs you. She needs you now.

“Are you sure,” you try to slow down your kisses. “We can stop at any moment,” you say as you try to catch your breath. Her lips start sucking on your neck and you let out a soft loud groan.

“Why would I want to do that?” She says as she rips your shirt in the middle. You are surprised by her urgency. You didn't know that Wanda even liked you. “Wow,” Wanda gasps as she admires your naked chest. She unhooks your bra and her eyes grow hungrier at the sight. You get rid of the rest of the fabric of your shirt and toss it to the floor. You roll off of Wanda and lay next to her to start to get rid of your pants. You had most of your abilities down but when it came to sexual urges, there was one thing you couldn't control completely. That was the cock that is currently growing and will soon be straining against your jeans.

But before you can unbuckle your belt, Wanda climbs onto your chest and kisses you on the mouth again. “I have an idea,” she says against your lips as she holds your face in her delicate hands.

“Mmm, please share,” you say as you kiss along her jaw. She maneuvers you so that you are laying properly on the bed. Then with magic, she chains you to the bed. Wanda removes her tight shirt and short shorts to reveal the red lace bra and the black thong. Your eyes widen at her lingerie. You never thought in your wildest dreams that you would be here.

Wanda straddles your hips and you groan at the contact of her skin against yours. Her thighs rest against your sides. Her pussy juices drip through her thong and land on your stomach as she starts to gyrate her hips on your abs. You watch her breasts bounce as she moves on your abdomen and you lick your lips as you think about touching her. About sucking on her breasts. Licking her smooth stomach. Wanda puts her hand on your breasts as she continues to use your abs to create friction. You moan as she plays with your nipples. She makes eye contact with you as she leans in close to you. She makes you think she's good to kiss you but then her hips slide down and her pussy starts to ride your bulge as her lips kiss your neck.

“Fuck” you his as her lips move to your collarbone. She sucks on your skin lightly as she makes shapes with her tongue. You imagine her sucking your cock and it causes you to thrust your hips into her middle. She yelps and looks at you. Her pupils have taken over her emerald eyes as she takes your breast into her mouth. “Wanda,” you beg as you thrust your hips up again. She takes her mouth off of your chest as she sits up again. Teasing you by slowly removing her bra. You groan again as you fight against your magical restraints. When her breasts are exposed, Wanda drops her hands to your belt. She unbuckles the accessory and unbuttons your jeans. She pulls your zipper down and stops there.

Wanda drags her fingers at the top of the waistband of your boxers. She is driving you crazy. When she slips her fingers into your boxers you can't take it anymore. With your super strength, you break the magic handcuffs off and grab Wanda and flip the two of you so that you're on top. “That was hot,” Wanda says as she kisses you again.

You get lost in her lips as your hands touch her everywhere. You have them on her hips then on her breasts then on her ass. Her skin is so soft and you want to touch every inch of her. You begin to suck on her neck as you move to explore her body with your lips. She sighs and moans when you reach especially sensitive spots on her body. Her hands continue to trace the ridges of your chest. You drop her breast from your mouth and grin. “You like what you feel?”

Wanda blushes as she grows a bit shy. “I’ve been dreaming about them,” she says with pink cheeks. “I’m sorry, I just want to appreciate them while I have them.” She reaches up and kisses your neck. Your eyes roll to the back of your head as she starts to suck on your neck again. Her hands start to trail further down your body. She starts to push your pants and underwear further down until your cock bounces out. You moan from the relief. Her eyes widen at the sight. Her ex-boyfriend was a super computer that looked like a Ken-doll in the private area. She’s only seen dicks online and none of them come close to what is laying against her stomach. She couldn’t imagine how it was supposed to fit inside her virgin hole. She is surprised that fear isn’t controlling her nearly as much as it has in the past. But she can’t keep the thought as you roll your hips and the base of your cock grazes her clitoris just right. Her lips latch to yours again. You are typically someone that likes to take it slow but something has your body buzzing with energy and taking over your actions.

Wanda’s hand wraps around your cock and you roll your hips into her soft hand. You have imagined her jerking you off before. It was in a car or in a closet or at a movie and it was always after or during a date. It wasn’t this fast, or this amazing. Your hand doesn’t compare to hers. You have to pull away as you feel yourself near your edge.

“I’ve dreamt about you too,” you whisper against her lips. You fall lower on her body until your head is between her thighs. You kiss her left thigh first then her right. Wanda wimpers each time your lips press against her thighs. With your tongue you trace letters along her thighs claiming her as yours. “I’ve wanted to be in this position since I saw you at the freshman mixer,” you admit as you drag your tongue along the crevice between her thigh and vulva on her right side. “But you were taken for two more years after that.” You lick the left side and Wanda licks her lips as she watches you tease her.

“Now I’m yours,” she says desperatley, “I’m all yours.” Her fingers lock into your short hair as she pulls you closer to her pussy. “Show me your deepest desires, Y/n.” You nod as you put your mouth on her entrance. You slip your tongue inside of her and use your abilities to have a deeper reach. Wanda’s eyes widen at the sensations as she feels your tongue wiggling inside of her. You feel a wall as you extend your tongue further and your eyes widen as you shrink your tongue to it’s normal size.

You pull away and ask, “Are you a virgin?” Wanda grows shy again and tries to hide her face in her pillows. “It’s okay to be it’s just, are you sure you want to… with me… like this?” You say as you crawl up her body and remove the pillow from her face. “I just don’t want you to regret your decision later if there are reasons you waited this long,” you tell her softly.

Wanda gazes into your eyes and takes your hand and brings it close to her. She kisses the palm of your hand as she holds eye contact and then places your hand over her heart. “I'm sure,” she answers softly. Then she pushes you back so that you lay on the bed. She pulls your pants and boxers all the way off and tosses them behind her. “I want you so bad right now, Y/n. I've wanted you for a long time.” She says as she moves her hands up your thighs until they meet in the middle to give attention to your cock again. She kisses the tip of your penis. Her soft plush lips send shivers down your spine just before she wraps them around the bulbous head. Your head falls back as she deep throats your cock. Taking as much as shee can down her throat without gagging. You’ve never seen that before. You can’t believe it. Wanda removes her mouth and you lift your head back up to watch her. “I don’t have a gag reflex,” Wanda smirks. You make a confused expression and Wanda giggles. She taps her temple, “Mind reader.”

You sit up on your elbows, “Hold on,” you stop her from sucking your cock again. “You’re telling me that you’re more than a witch?” You shake your head. “Oh gosh, I’m sorry for what you saw today. I promise, I like you for more than-”

“No, I don’t… I didn’t read your mind earlier. I,” she crawls up your body and sits on your chest again. She holds your face as she tries to explain her abilities. “I don’t like to know what other people are thinking so I take something that decreases my ability to read peoples minds. I can only read your mind when I’m touching you. I wasn’t doing that earlier,” she explains.

A slow smile graces your lips. You move your fingers a long the length of her arms. “Does that mean you’re seeing what I’m thinking about now.” You take the palm of her hand and press your lips against her soft skin. The hitch in her breath is enough to let you know that she can see exactly what you intend to do with her tonight. “And what do you think?”

Wanda leans in close to your lips and whispers, “I already told you to show me your deepest desires. So stop stalling.” She meets your lips in a slow, deep, kiss. Every time she kissed you she felt the effects of something grow stronger. She couldn’t place where it was coming from but she has a sneaking suspicion it has something to do with that chocolate that Nathasha was being so weird about. It didn’t matter anymore. She was so close to having exactly what she wants.

“Yes, ma’am,” you say with a raspy voice as you kiss her back. You move your hands down her body and rip her thong off of her. You aim the tip of your penis at her entrance and slip just the tip in to tease her as the two of you continue to kiss. You pump in her softly, slowly stretching her out with your girthy cock. Wanda’s mouth falls open as you slip inside her previously untouched walls further. You move your kisses from her lips to her cheeks then to her neck. Her hands move from your face to your shoulders as she helps you lower her further onto your throbbing rod. Her nails start to dig into your skin and it causes you to lose control of your thrust as you break her hymn in one strong thrust.

“Holy shit,” she gasps. “I can feel you,” she says as you lick the sweat off from her collarbone. “You’re stretching me,” she moans as you thrust further into her. “I’m so full with your cock,” she continues and you groan as you bring her breast into your mouth. You get the full length of your dick inside of Wanda’s tight walls and you nearly bust a nut from how amazing she feels around you. “It feels so good,” she says while she moves her hips. You smile with your mouth full of her boobs. Then you drop it with a plop as you grab her hips.

You begin to pump inside of Wanda and fuck her as hard as you can. She is shocked by the pleasure she is feeling from such force but she is far from complaining about it. “Yes!” She screeches out as you pound her pussy with your thick meat. “Yes! Yes! Yes!” She pulls you closer to her by wrapping her both arms around you. “Fuck you’re in so deep! Oh fuck! It’s so good! Fuck me Y/n! Fuck me!” She shouts as she continues to ride your cock while your hips slam into her.

Your thrusts get so erratic that your cock slips out of her hole and you have to stop your hips from moving. You flip the two of you so that you are laying on top of her before you enter her again. “Ah fuck your pussy is so good, Wanda,” you moan as you enter her tight wet walls that is gripping your dick and pulling you further inside of her. “I’ve never done it raw before. Oh my gosh this feels amazing!” You say as rock your hips into Wanda. The sensitive skin on your penis is feeling every inch of her and you can’t believe any of this is real.

“I’m so close,” Wanda gasps as her nails start to dig into your back. You didn’t know that you’d enjoy that feeling as much as you do. It drives you to speed up your thrusts again as you rub her clitoris with your thumb.

“Cum for me,” you tell her and watch as her eyes roll back and her chest arches up into yours and feel as her walls squeeze the life out of your cock as if her body was trying to milk you. She screams out as she rides the waves of her orgasm. You don’t stop playing with her clitoris even after her body falls limp.

“Don’t stop,” she says as she enjoys the over stimulation. You continue to rub her bundle of nerves while you pump your cock into her.

“I’m, fuck, I’m close,” you warn her. “Don’t, mphm, worry. I’ll pull out,” you grunt out as you start to slow down your thrusts. That’s when Wanda’s legs wrap around your waist and lock you in. “Wanda what are you-”

Wanda pulls you into a deep kiss. She dances her fingers along your jaw as you try to pull away. “Cum inside me,” she whispers. You head starts to shake but the request is too delicious that your eyes roll back as your cum starts to flow out of you and flood her pussy. “Mmm I can feel you pulsing inside of me,” she says as your cock empties inside of her. When you stop erupting, you try to pull out but Wanda shakes her head. “Not yet,” she says, “I don’t want to feel empty just yet.” You nod as you keep the two of you connected and sigh as you lay your head on her naked chest. Your limp body laying on top of hers. She is combing her fingers through your sweaty hair. “That was amazing,” she kisses your forehead.

You give her a lazy smile with your eyes still closed, “It was. I wish we could live in this moment forever.”

“I’ll allow it,” she responds softley. “But you’ll have to promise that you won’t want to be with anyone else.”

You make a face, “That’s an easy promise.” You lean up and kiss her cheek. “There is no one I’d rather be with.” You grab her hand and lay it on your chest over your heart. “You can even scan my mind. Sure, I’ve slept with people in the past. But I’ve always wanted to be with you. No one has ever invaded my mind the way you have.”

Wanda bites her lip and sighs. “I don’t have to search your mind. I trust you.” She kisses your lips.

After an hour of laying in her bed, connected to each other, you eventually pull out of her. Some of your cum flows out when you do and Wanda catches some on her fingers. She sucks them clean and you almost get hard again. But you manage to control yourself since you’re no longer under the influence of whatever you were under. You grab her polaroid camera from the top of her dresser and you point it at her. She gets shy and pulls some of her sheets over her body. She covers her face with her long light brown hair and you snap a picture. You wave it to help develop the image even though you know it doesn’t really do much.

You smile as you look down at the image a year later when you’re getting ready for your wedding. You put the image in your wallet again and it’s still there when you’re racing Wanda to the hospital to deliever the babies. You glance at it when you’re sitting with her in the nursery as you remember the first time you got to have the most wild sex with Wanda and think about how the chocolate her best friend gave her led to all of this. Natasha confessed to what she did in her maid of honor toast. You have it with you on your tenth wedding anniversary and show it to Wanda during the special dinner. She blushes as she remembers how things used to be before the two of you became parents. Although she still made enchanted candles, the Tommy and Billy were quite disruptive with nightmares and bedwetting. It made moments that the two of you wer alone long enough to have sex that much more special.

“You still have this?” Wanda asks as she was looking for cash to pay the pizza guy for the twins fifteenth birthday party.

“Babe, I will carry this in my wallet until the day I die,” you tell her and give her a sweet kiss before running the pizza boxes over to the insatiable teenagers. Wanda paid the man and smiled to herself as she admired her younger form. She kept herself quite fit and so did you, but she couldn’t help but think that some areas were tighter in the picture than they’ll ever be again. She puts it back into your wallet so that you can keep your promise and you do.

The End.

#smut #wanda fanfic #wanda smut #wanda x reader #wanda x y/n #wanda x you #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x you #wandusssyfantasy answers #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff fanfiction #wanda maximoff x gender neutral reader #wanda maximoff fic

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ghoulphile · 21 hours

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janey's dad | c.h./the ghoul | teaser

➥ pairing | cooper howard/the ghoul x f!reader ➥ word count | 465 for the teaser, overall wordcount tbd ➥ overall warning(s) | 🔞 smut; age gap (i hc reader to be late 20s but i tried to leave it vague enough), cowgirl position, biting, hair pulling, choking, squirting, teasing, pining, lipstick kink, breast/nipple play, masturbation (m), porn w/ feelings, porn w/ plot, mild angst w/ happy ending, coop's pov to start - rest of the fic will be in reader's, divorced!coop, babysitter!reader, pre-war/bomb ➥ summary | "We really s-shouldn't - oh fuck - be doing this." ➥ notes | here's a teaser for the fic i took a poll on, some people wanted more info 😊 coop is a big dick dilf fite me. feedback is always appreciated ❤️ lmk if you want to be tagged feel free to send in thots, questions, requests! | other ghoul fics

Divorce is hard, but being a divorcé is downright hellish.

Ugliest thing in the world, if Cooper Howard has any say.

It's not like being a Marine with a gun in hand, being told where to point and shoot, or an actor reading off a script. There's no guidebook, no crash course. These people aren't nameless threats coasts away or co-workers following a cue.

In fact, his 'enemies' aren't enemies at all.

They have names: Barb, so smart it hurts, and sweet little Janey, his very own North star. Sometimes looking at them rips open a hole in his chest that'll never close, edges jagged and sore. The phantoms of family, of happier times, found in the glint of a smile or a peal of laughter.

See, war's something he understands. Something he's good at.

But these domestic battlefields where he's gotta look his ex-wife in the face, and struggle to meet his daughter's eye? Barter this weekend and that holiday? To pay for the privilege of his child's presence (he does, he will, she's worth every goddamn cent he's ever made)?

To look down the barrel of a smoking gun only to find the woman he loves staring back; he doesn't, can't, comprehend that. Because once upon a time, he was happy (with her) and life was sweeter than pie.

Now he's nothing but a washed up actor who struggles to land a call back let alone make his monthly alimonies. His marriage has failed, his reputation is in shambles, and his bank account is dryer than the Mojave.

Barb gets the house. He gets the dog.

And caught in the middle of it all is his little girl; the only thing he’s got left worth while. He wants to protect her, provide for her the way she deserves — only he seems to fall short every goddamn time.

The mistakes and missteps keep stacking up against him; such is his new life in all its raw, unglamorous glory.

Look how far the mighty fall.

Lucky for him — the first bright thing that's come his way in a long, long while — a sweet, young woman moves into the apartment next door. Of course, it isn't long before Janey takes a shine, always so friendly.

Thankfully, you're just as good with her.

It only makes sense you'd watch her when a gig runs late. Rustle up some grub and put her to bed whenever he slinks in through the door, stripped to the bone.

And if he takes himself in hand late at night, stroking his cock to the thought of you down on your knees in that pretty little sundress? Imagines the wide stretch of your lush mouth as you peer up at him from between his thighs when he cums hard?

Well, what you don't know won't hurt you.

After all, he promises to keep his hands to himself.

TBC

#cooper howard x reader #the ghoul x reader #fallout smut #cooper howard x you #the ghoul x you #cooper howard #the ghoul #cooper howard smut #the ghoul smut #fallout #fallout fanfic

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jarofstyles · 1 day

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Illicit 10

Here we are, babes. The last official part of the main Illicit story. It’s bittersweet because I finally completed something lmao but also, I really love them and their story.

Safe to say this isn’t the last you’ll see of them. I’m fully planning on doing little flashbacks and check ins with them, feel free to let me know what you would like to see/if you have any unanswered questions. Thank you for reading!

Check out our Patreon for early access and 160+ exclusive writings

Illicit masterlist

WC- 3.3k

Warnings- mention of wounds, stitching, having children, marriage talk, nightmares, etc

——-

“Harry, for the love of god, please be careful of your arm.” Y/N winced in worry as the man carried firewood over to their fire pit. He had not been taking his injury half as seriously as he had been taking Y/N’s concussion, treating her like the ‘delicate little bird she was.’ He’d gotten an eye roll for that. Of course he wasn’t letting her help lug the wood for their night in front of the fire. She’d requested with sleepy eyes earlier in the morning to make smores because they’d been in her dream and Harry was giving her basically anything she wanted.

“M’fine, baby.” He laughed, appreciating her concern but knowing the injury barely stung anymore. “The stitches are coming out tomorrow, and we pushed it, keeping them until then. Only kept them because you wanted me to.”

It had been about 2 weeks since the attack and they’d left for the lake house. As much as he knew it was terrifying for the both of them, he was utterly relieved to have Katherine behind bars. He’d made sure to keep updated by his contact in the force to know what was happening with her case. Apparently she had really lost it, but Harry didn’t give a fuck. He wanted her to rot behind bars, to live miserably and have Y/N be safe without the threat of some crazy ex-who-isn’t-an-ex looming in the background.

Harry had kept work to a minimum, only logging in to oversee the decisions he had to make. There had been no calls besides the nightly one with his COO to ensure things were running smoothly. Other than that, his entire attention had been on Y/N. They’d barely left the house considering at first Y/N had been a bit embarrassed of her injuries. Another reason he’d hate Katherine until the day he died. Harry always was one to hold grudges, he was infamous for it. She’d never know peace if the man had anything to do with it.

They were healing incredibly well, Harry taking the time at night to set her on the bathroom counter and wipe them clean and apply the healing ointment to them. The only one that was more than a fading scab was the one on her head along with the slight discoloration the black eye had caused. Other than that, he was more than relieved to see her bouncing back. The only thing that plagued him still was the nightmare.

His nightmares.

They’d always start the same, almost a play by play of what had happened to him walking into the home and up the stairs- only when he got there it had been too late. In his nightmare, the knife had already taken Y/N’s life and he couldn’t do anything to save her. He always woke up before the knife struck him, but it actually hurt him. It was a little difficult for him to admit to her, always wanting to be the strong one when it came to their pairing- someone for her to lean on fully- but she had cried once he told her and insisted that she wanted to be there for him. That a partnership was made out of balance and while she could offer him some of the same things he did for her, she was more than capable to be his emotional shoulder to cry on. It had been a tough thing to come to terms with but this week seemed to be healing. Not just physically, either.

“Ms. Greta, please tell him to take it easy.” Y/N pouted at the older woman who brought out the tray of s’more making supplies. She’d made sure to add the peanut butter cups as requested.

“I’m afraid if he won’t listen to you, he won’t listen to anyone.” She chuckled. “Men will be men, and that includes straining their physical health for the macho man act. One day they learn we do know what we are talking about.” A little wink was sent her way as Harry huffed, arranging the wood in the fire pit with a grumble.

“Because I’m fine.” He stressed, standing up straight and crossing his arms. “It’s healed up nicely. I’m more than capable of setting up a little fire.” Crossing over to Y/N, he stole a kiss before grabbing the lighter and a few other things. “Just sit pretty and let your man do the work, baby. I’ve got it.”

There was a snort heard from both women but Ms. Greta was now off the clock, wishing them a good night before retreating into the house. As much as he loved having the woman around, he really was obsessed with this alone time with Y/N. There was the residual guilt he had over her being treated less than ideally because he was juggling the faux relationship and the contract, but he knew now that he was going to have to take a bit of a step back from work in order to do that. He’d delegate as he was supposed to be doing to begin with, assign more to his assistant, take Y/N more places and on more dates out in public. He couldn’t fucking wait to attent events with her and show her off.

He’d been waiting months to let people know who his heart belonged to, and he was finally getting the chance to do so. It was obvious now since the articles had been a media frenzy over the attack, things leaked he couldn’t pinpoint. The only thing he had been commenting on was the fact that Y/N wasn’t a mistress, Katherine wasn’t his lover that was scorned, and there was no true excuse for the actions. It was a good thing in hindsight that they were there, alone. No one had a true clue about the location and he didn’t feel like being hounded by paparazzi- though hopefully they knew better now than to test him and his hatred for the cameras.

One thing that had been burning into him, though, was a question he’d been wanting to ask her. One he knew that was a bit unorthodox but a necessary one nonetheless.

She sat across his lap, his hoodie covering her tank top and denim shorts as her legs swung slightly while they waited for the fire to burn a bit hotter so they could roast their marshmallows.

“When would you like to get married?” He asked. “And how many kids are we thinking about?”

The girl nearly snapped her neck as she looked at him with wide eyes, the not so casual question leaving his mouth as if it was him asking what she wanted for dinner. Harry always did find a way to shock the hell out of her but this was definitely one of the top questions that had caught her off guard. Secretly, she’d assumed Harry had that all figured out. He always made sure to let her know how much he appreciated her opinions and her thoughts, that they were important to him- but he was a planner. Harry was the man in charge and she was happy to let him be. It took a lot of weight off of her shoulders that she wouldn’t admit to anyone else actually weighed on her.

“Uh…” She blinked at him a few times. “I’m not sure. Kinda figured you’d be the one to pop the question. But honestly… Maybe a year? A few months? I dunno.” There was a slight lump in her throat. “I’ve no doubt I want to be with you the rest of my life so part of me feels like I’d probably be fine eloping right now if that was something you wanted but… We haven't really had the chance to be a couple out in the open. While I doubt that’s going to change much considering we feel so strongly, I think it would be kind to ourselves to let us iron out some of the details first before we fully tie the knot.” There wasn’t a right or wrong answer but it still made her a little nervous to answer. “As for kids? I’m not sure. 2? 3? I’d probably say we have one first and figure it out from there.” It wasn’t like they’d have to worry about resources externally but she knew Harry valued family more than anything and he’d want to be an active father. He’d already indulged that detail to her one night when they were particularly loved up. However, neither of them had any children so they didn’t know the workload it would entail, nor did they know how they’d work as parents. Of course they’d figure it out but it would make it a bit more clear on how many they could handle.

“First of all, as much as I’d love to call you my wife right this second… I could never deprive you of the wedding you deserve.” Y/N had told him about the fact that she had always dreamt about her wedding as a little girl. She had pinterest boards full of themes and wedding dresses she’d want to try and cake designs. He wasn’t about to deprive her of those things for his selfish needs.. Harry knew he was indeed a selfish bastard in every other facet of his life, but when it came to Y/N and his soon to be family? That was his only exception. “My mum would probably keel over dead if I did that too. Trust me, you’re going to get your princess wedding.” There was no debating that. “And for kids… I’d love to give you many, many babies.” His tone turned smooth, a little smirk lighting up his face and the twinkle of his eye. “But I think I agree. My idea had been 2-4, but I’ll take as many as you’ll give me. Always.” His hand pulled her in so he could press a kiss to her cheek, muttering a soft declaration of love.

“Love you more.” She sighed, leaning further into his chest. “I’m so happy that we can live our lives when we get back. I know it’ll probably be a little crazy but there's no more hiding. We can go out and hold hands and kiss, people are going to know we belong to each other.” The giddiness on her face was bittersweet. “I’m so excited to be with you properly.”

The tinge of guilt hit him full on in the stomach, making him frown as he looked into the fire. He knew he had fucked up several times on this journey and Y/N just had a lot of patient and given him a lot of grace when he knew for a fact most other people wouldn’t- but that made it feel a little worse. He’d been wrong in not ditching the contract immediately. “Baby?” He said, voice quieter as he met her eyes. “I’m sorry. Genuinely sorry that I’m a stubborn son of a bitch and I didn’t just dissolve the contract and take on a lawsuit. I should have done it the day I met you because I knew you were going to mean a lot to me even there. I… I know I’ve told you a lot how you were the first and only person to ever make me feel the way you do, but it’s more than that. And my hard headed shit got us into something awful. I know I fucked up and you are more generous than I deserve but…” His fingers tenderly moved the hair from her face, stroking her cool cheek. “I’m going to work every single day for the rest of my life to make it up to you. I’m going to make you the most spoiled, well traveled, happiest woman I possibly can.” His voice stayed quiet as he searched her eyes for any hint of resentment but somehow there wasn’t any there.

“H.. I knew what I signed up for. You’d been nothing but honest with me the night I ignored you. You laid it all out for me. I knew that you were taken in name only and I liked you so much that I agreed. I never felt like I played second to her. You can say a lot of things about you, lovely, but subtle isn’t one of those things. You never made me feel like she was important. I understood how important your business was to you- it’s the most important thing to you. Did I like seeing you with her? No. But you made it so clear to me that I was yours and you were mine, I never felt like… I never had any competition.” Y/N tried to soothe the ache she knew he felt. Of course she hadn’t liked people thinking he belonged to someone else but she knew he loved her. The most she had ever been loved, the most unashamed.

“First, I have a correction- You are the most important thing to me. I’d give it all up for you.” That wasn’t a sentence anyone could take lightly, nor one he would ever thought he would say. It used to be the truth, but now it was far from it. “You are my life.” His gaze bore into her own as he cupped her cheek. “There was never any competition. If we want the honest truth, I thought I’d marry as a business decision. I thought I’d probably not have any kids considering I only ever wanted children out of love. I was happy working until I was gray and about to keel over. Business was my only reason for being, and it wasn’t something I minded- but you gave my life so much more, so much color, my angel.” He’d never sounded more fond in his life, looking at his heaven sent gift perched in his lap. “I didn’t realize there was more to life until I met you. You opened my eyes and made my heart soften. I give a shit about a lot more than numbers now and it’s because of you.”

People could say he did it himself but he knew the truth. Without meeting Y/N his life would have been the same robotic function it had been since he got out of uni, and he wouldn’t have complained. He’d never know how much he would miss out on. “I thank whoever in the world sent you to me every damn day and you know m’not religious. You are my miracle. It made me feel so fucking sick walking in that house and thinking you were hurt, I have never in my life felt that sort of terror. But I’d do it all again in order to keep you.” The scar on his arm was a reminder of that.

“I love you, H. The most in the world.” Her eyes watered a little as she smiled at him. “I’m sorry you got scared. I was scared too, scared she would do worse with that knife though I’m still upset you got hurt at all. But I’d go through every bit of it again too.” She sniffled, feeling his thumb brush under her eye as a tear fell. “I know I want everything with you. The marriage and babies and our own house with a pool, if that’s something you want too. You’re the love of my life.”

“And you’re mine.” He mumbled, pressing his lips to hers. “M’gonna spend every day proving that to you. Just wait and see, my angel. My heart is yours.”

—-------

Nails dug into Harry’s back as he rocked slowly into his girl in their brand new home. One he’d bought her as a surprise when they arrived back into the city, leaving their old memories behind in the other penthouse and moving on to the next chapter in the rest of their lives.

“H-Harry…” She bleated, holding on to him while the other hand grabbed his face and pulled his face down so he could be kissed. “Thank you. You always take c-care of me.”

His pace as slow and deep, pressing in as far as he could go on the brand new sheets they’d picked out together. The sunset bled into their room as they breathed each other in, wrapped up in their covers on their first night sleeping there. He’d spared no expense making sure he got the best of the best for her. He was dedicated to the cause, dedicated to proving to her that she was the most precious thing to him in the world.

“M’always going to take care of you, my love.” He nudged his nose against hers as he dipped his hips to get deeper inside of her. It was like they couldn’t get close enough to one another, her legs wrapped snug around his hips while he kept himself up with one hand, the other under her neck. The term making love was fully about this. It was unmistakable. “You were made for me.”

He couldn’t wait to spend every morning like this for the rest of his life. The man who used to cringe at the idea of fucking anyone face first now had it as his preferred position, wanting to make sure he could see every second of her reactions to him. She was snug around his cock, taking him like it was her only job in the world. He’d had no problem doing only this for the rest of his life.

“And you were… you were made for me. We’re made for each other.” Y/N nodded, pressing another open mouthed kiss to his lips as he kept the steady pace, hitting the delicious spot he always knew how to find. “You know my body perfectly. It’s yours forever.” It was both the truth and a bit of a taunt, knowing how much he loved when she spoke like that.

“You are. You’re mine and m’all yours, never have to share me. I love you so fucking much, Y/N.” He whimpered as her fingers tangled in his hair, tugging on it as she was filled over and over again. He hit the perfect spot and was trying to get her to cum, trying to have her finish all over him so he could do the same and stay deep inside for a while. Craving this sort of closeness was an addiction, one he didn’t plan on cutting. The obsession with Y/N grew each and every day. “I can’t wait to make you my wife.”

The woman whined out his name at the last sentence, tugging him closer with her legs as she soaked up every bit of heat from him. It didn’t matter what happened, who tried to get in their way- they would always belong to one another. There was an understanding between both of them knowing this love was bone deep, soul deep, it only deepened by the day. When it felt like they couldn’t love each other more it just kept growing, no matter how full they felt. It was everything.

A love like this was something people revered as pure, perfect, something that everyone craved and yearned for. Something out of a book or a movie, the sort of feeling that trumps all other people and situations. Their passion and yearning for one another had been cultivated in anything but pureness, it was made in the dark. It always made him laugh a little to know that such a concept had blossomed into a real, tangible thing that he could feel between their bodies, something he could see when he looked at her, something he could taste when he kissed her.

A love that stayed between the lines wasn’t the type that grew stronger- that’s why he smiled when they called it illicit.

#jarofstyles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles one shot #harry styles fanfic #harry styles smut #harry writing #harry styles imagine #harry drabble #harry styles blurb #harry styles writing #harry styles au #harry styles angst #harry styles fluff #harry angst #harry fluff #harry smut #asshole h #asshole Harry #illicit

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beskarandblasters · 2 days

Text

Packin’ (In More Ways Than One)

Din Djarin x GN!Reader

Main Masterlist | Din Djarin Masterlist

Author’s note: This is inspired by this HOT art by @cass-hues 🍑🔥 Unfortunately, I do not know who made this gif so if that’s you or someone you know, don’t hesitate to inform me and I’ll give credit where it’s due! Thank you to @freelancearsonist for beta reading! 🤍🤍

Summary: You see Din’s bare ass for the first time and get the urge to peg him.

Word count: 1.6k

Warnings: canon divergent (long live the Razor Crest), reader is able-bodied and has no physical description/no genitalia mentioned, anal fingering, sex toys, lube, pegging, praising, pet names (cyar’ika), sonic = shower, refresher = bathroom, no use of y/n

“You’re really going to shower with that bucket on your head?”

Din’s leaning against the doorway of the refresher with a towel sitting low on his hips. He just captured a bounty on Coruscant where it’s currently raining, a downpour that chilled Din to his bones. You suggested that a hop in the sonic would warm him up. But you didn’t expect to see him stripped bare of everything besides his helmet.

“Yes,” he says plainly. “What’s wrong with that?”

“Nothing! …You just look a little funny right now, that’s all.”

“Funny?” he asks, turning and walking to the mirror. But as he walks his towel drops to the floor and you’re met with the sight of his bare ass. And Maker, it is juicy. You had no idea he was hiding that underneath his cape and his flight suit.

“Oh my-”

“Sorry!” he says, hastily grabbing the towel and wrapping it around his waist.

“You’re sorry?”

“I didn’t mean to… expose myself like that.”

“I didn’t mind.”

“Really?”

“But I am a little mad at you right now.”

“Why??”

“You didn’t tell me you were packin’… in more ways than one,” you say, walking and standing beside him in the mirror.

“Oh… You mean my… behind?”

“Yes, silly,” you chuckle, running your hand over his ass with the towel in between you two. He tenses up at the motion and you’re just now realizing that he’s probably never had his ass appreciated like this before. He doesn’t say anything. Instead, he lets you feel up his ass while the towel hangs dangerously low around his hips.

“Is it weird I want to peg you?”

“No,” he says quickly.

“No as in…?”

“No, it’s not weird.”

“Oh,” you say, your eyes widening. “Should I… go to the store?”

“Yes,” he says, without hesitation.

“Alright, I’ll be back,” you chuckle, grabbing your bag and lowering the exit ramp of the Crest.

You think of where the nearest sex shop might be and quickly decide that lower levels are your best bet. The rain has thankfully subsided, leaving puddles in the street for neon lights to reflect off of. You cruise the streets, searching for the perfect place until you happen upon a goldmine; Nova’s Novelties.

The door opens and you step inside, immediately overwhelmed by the sheer volume of sex toys occupying the shelves and walls. There’s a counter in the back where the register is. A woman is there and you can only assume that’s Nova, a beautiful woman with an inviting aura. She makes buying sex toys seem less intimidating.

“Welcome!” she says, motioning for you to come over. “What brings you in tonight?”

“I’m looking for… a strap-on.”

“You’ve come to the right place,” she smiles, stepping out from behind the counter. “Follow me.”

She brings you to a shelf where there’s a strap on of every size and color, all encased in clear packaging. A silver one catches your eye.

That’ll match his armor, you think to yourself, stifling a giggle.

“What do you recommend for a beginner?”

She reaches and grabs a modest looking one, bright pink in color.

“This one is great for beginners. Not too big, not too small. And it comes with an adjustable strap.”

“Thanks!” you say, taking the box from her. “Does it come in any other colors?”

“What were you thinking?”

“…Silver.”

“You have great taste. Let me check the back.”

She heads to the back room while you take time to explore the rest of the selection, opting for a bottle of lube, too. Once she emerges with the silver dildo in hand, you check out, handing her a fistful of credits and heading back to the Crest.

“Have fun!” she says with a suggestive smile just before you step out onto the street.

As you walk back to the docking yard, you think about Din, waiting for you like such a good boy. You think about the trust he places in you, letting you see him without his armor or his fight suit on and the trust he has to let you do something like this… It’s a testament of your love.

When you get back in the Crest you find Din, standing in the doorway of the refresher with droplets of water peppered on his skin with steam wafting into the hull from the sonic. His bulge pitches a tent in his towel. You can’t believe your eyes, gawking at how gorgeous he looks. It’s almost criminal he keeps all of this locked away under his armor and it blows your mind that this is the first time you’re seeing him like this.

“Did you find something?”

“You bet I did,” you smirk. You take off your bag and hang it on a hook, reaching for the strap-on and the lube. You hold it out in front of you and think about his face underneath the helmet, wondering if he clocked how the dildo matches his armor.

“You like?” you ask.

“I do.”

“Good…” you say, stepping closer to him and placing a hand on his chest. His skin is warm, still slightly damp from the sonic. “Now be a good boy and get in the bunk for me.”

“Yes, cyar’ika,” he says, dropping his towel and walking across the hull to the bunk.

He gets on all fours on the bed while you shed your clothes and take the strap out of the packaging, setting it on the edge of the bunk because you’re not ready for it just yet.

“Are you gonna be a good boy for me?” you say, kneeling behind him and cupping his ass.

“Y-Yes, I promise.”

“Don’t worry,” you giggle, “I’ll go nice and slow at first.”

You squeeze lube onto your index finger, coating his hole with it and teasing it lightly. He lets out a small whimper in response, already aching for more.

“What was that?”

“I… want it… already.”

“That’s what I like to hear,” you say, sliding your finger in.

His breath hitches before he exhales with a moan while you slowly work his hole. You curl your finger while your other hand caresses his ass.

“More,” he softly begs.

“Be patient,” you coo.

He sighs, resting his helmet down on the pillow and sticking his ass up higher. Never in a million years did you think you’d have Din in a face-down ass-up position and yet here you are, enjoying every minute of it.

You pull your hand from his ass and add lube to your middle finger, pushing both back inside simultaneously. A deeper, guttural moan forces its way out of his throat as he melts into the cot faster than a block of ice on Tatooine.

“Good boy,” you praise, pushing your fingers against his prostate. “But I’m far from done with you.”

“I know,” he whimpers.

You feel his hole relax around your fingers and a slew of whispers and Mando’a curse words slip out from under the helmet.

“Cyar’ika, I’m gonna cum.”

“Oh yeah? Let me feel it.”

He cums around your fingers, a different kind of orgasm he’s never experienced before. His thighs shake beneath him as he rides out his high.

“Such a good boy for me,” you praise, slowing the movement of your fingers to a stop. You pull them from his ass and get off the bed, putting on the harness and attaching the strap. “But are you ready for more?”

“Yes,” he sputters, staying in the same face-down ass-up position for you.

You walk to the front end of the bed, crouching down by his helmet and telling him, “You’re doing so well, baby, coming for me like that.”

“I am?”

“Mhm,” you whisper, rubbing his back. He shudders at your touch, eliciting a giggle from you.

“You’re so sensitive right now, aren’t you?”

“Yes,” he sighs.

“It’s almost over,” you remind him, taking your rightful position by his ass again.

You spread lube onto the strap and align it with his hole, one hand holding his hip as you thrust into him slowly. He lets out another string of curse words in Mando’a. It’s unintelligible but it’s a sign of how good he feels.

“You like that?” you chuckle.

“Yes. So much, cyar’ika,” he moans, just as you draw your hips back and thrust into him again. You put your other hand on his hip, holding onto him as you thrust in and out, working him up to his impending orgasm. His moans, grunts, and whimpers are melodic, like music to your ears. It fills you with a deep sense of pride that you can reduce your big strong Mandalorian to a whimpering mess with just your fingers and a strap.

“Cyar’ika?” he whines.

“Yes?” you smirk.

“I’m gonna-”

“Gonna cum again?”

“Y-Yes.”

“Do it,” you command, making sure your pace never falters.

Another moan escapes his throat, slipping out from under his helmet in his beautiful, modulated tone. His whole body shakes with pleasure, quivering as you fuck him through his high, being sure to slow down slightly to not overstimulate him.

Once he’s done you pull out of him, letting him collapse onto the bunk. Aftershocks of his orgasm make him quiver here and there, his ass shaking with each involuntary movement. You giggle watching him rest peacefully after you just fucked the living daylights out of him.

You crouch down and whisper, “Looks like you need to hop in the sonic again.”

“I know,” he groans.

“I’ll join you.”

“Let’s go,” he says, shooting up and heading to the refresher. He has that specific walk about him, the kind where you walk side to side after a good dicking down. It looks good on him, you decide.

Fic notifs: @beskarandblastersfics

Dividers: @saradika-graphics

#din djarin x reader #din djarin fanfiction #din djarin smut #din djarin imagine #din djarin x gn!reader #din djarin x you #the mandalorian fanfiction #the mandalorian x reader #star wars fanfiction #pedrostories #pedro pascal characters #ppcu fanfiction

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joelmillerisapunk · 2 days

Text

Beach Daddy II. Jet skis and the ocean breeze

Rich daddy!Joel x f!reader

Series Masterlist • Masterlist

Wordcount: 8,173

Summary: You and Joel have some alone time.

Warnings: 18+, some cute reader and Joel moments, mentions of cheating and parental loss, falling into the water and struggling.

Notes: Welcome back babes 😘 hope you enjoy. Comments and any feedback are always so welcome. Thanks for reading ily.

You wake up the next morning, feeling refreshed and excited about your first day on the ocean. Sometime during the early morning hours, someone slipped an itinerary under your door. As you read it, you can't help the pang of dread you feel when you see that Sarah has planned the whole day out for you, and you will be spending all day with Todd.

At least you have a few hours before you are expected at the poolside brunch starting at 10:00. So you call down for coffee to be sent to your room, and as you wait, you go to the sliding door to the balcony and open it to let the sound of the waves take over your room.

You get dressed in a pair of shorts and your favorite top. Before you have time to finish your makeup, there is a knock at your door announcing your coffee has arrived.

"Good morning, Miss," says the pool boy Sarah had snapped at the day before. He’s carrying a coffee tray holding a glass coffee decanter, cream and sugar, and a plate full of fruit. You love that each time you've called down for something simple, the staff adds something extra.

"Good morning; I don't think I caught your name yesterday," you say.

"It's Derek, Miss. Where would you like me to put this?"

"If you could put it on the balcony for me, I would really appreciate it. It looks amazing."

"Of course," Derek says as he makes his way onto the balcony. You don't think you will ever get used to this level of service.

"Thank you so much, Derek," you say, and he responds with a smile. You don't think the staff is used to Sarah's guests calling them by name.

You quickly finish getting ready for the day and make your way to the small breakfast table before your coffee gets too cold. In the light of the morning, you can see the ocean rather than just hear it like the night before. You watch the water closely as you take your time, sipping your coffee and enjoying the sweetest fruits you have ever tasted. You hope, at some point on the trip, you will be able to catch a glimpse of a dolphin. You've always thought they were beautiful creatures.

Five minutes before 10:00, you accept your fate, slip on your sandals, and make your way out to the pool deck. Smaller tables are set up around the pool, each only allowing two to four occupants. You sit at an empty table, happy that you don't have to make small talk.

You place your order with a waiter and sit in silence, watching the rest of the group. Many of them are clearly very hung over from the night before.

The blond, Hudson, has his head resting on the table, not responding to Megan, who is talking to him nonstop. A girl with short black hair sits next to them, carefully working on an omelet, shooting dirty looks at Megan, who must have been talking too loudly.

The group must have stayed at the dinner party drinking until the early hours of the morning. You're happy you were able to slip away. Even though you had that awkward run-in with Mr. Miller, your night ended up a lot better once you were alone in your room.

As soon as your mango mimosa is set on the table, the chair next to you is pulled out. You look up and are surprised to see Todd sitting next to you.

"So, Sarah tells me that you two lived together at NYU. What did you study there?" Todd says, continuing his game.

You look around for Sarah and shoot a glare at Todd when you notice she isn't on the deck yet. "You know exactly what I studied, Todd."

"I have no idea what you're talking about," he says with a wicked glint in his eyes. Why had you never seen past his fake smile before now?

Todd leans over and whispers, "You look good, babe. That’s always been your color.”

You could have slapped him, and you might have if Sarah hadn't walked up right at that moment and sat on the other side of Todd. She looks flawless, like always, in a perfectly fitted sundress.

"Hey! You really missed out on a great party last night. Adrian nearly fell into the pool in her dress," Sarah says.

"Wow, it really does sound like I missed out. I had a headache, so I snuck out early, but I won't miss a thing today," you say and take a big sip of your drink.

"Daddy, come sit with us!" Sarah squeals. You nearly choke on your drink, but luckily, you have time to compose yourself as Mr. Miller makes his way to your table.

"This is my old roommate from NYU. Unfortunately, you didn't get to meet her last night."

"Nice to meet you, darlin’," Mr. Miller says with a smirk sneaking onto his lips. He raises one eyebrow playfully. "I hope everything and everyone on the ship has been to your liking."

"Everything has been wonderful, thank you," you say. You wish you could hide under the table instead.

"Mr. Miller, what do you think of the new design of aircraft that AmeriAir just revealed?" Todd says, breaking Mr. Miller's eye contact with you. You look over at Todd and realize that he has witnessed the strange moment between you and Sarah's dad.

"It seems like it will be a great little plane. I'm interested to see how it does in this market," Mr. Miller says, and the conversation steers towards his new airline.

Of course, you know that he's wealthy, but as breakfast continues, you quickly realize that his kind of wealth is more than you can even imagine. You try not to look impressed as he talks because you keep catching the look Todd is giving you out of the corner of your eye. Even in front of Sarah, he can't control himself.

It's hard not to be impressed by Sarah's father. Not only is he wealthy, but he is extremely attractive. You could have watched the way his lips moved all morning. Sarah would catch you making googly eyes at her father if you didn't get yourself out of there. You scan the deck for an escape route when you notice Reggie sitting alone at one of the tables.

You slide your chair back and stand as casually as you can manage while saying excuse me to the table. You quickly take a seat next to him, and he looks up from his breakfast.

"Hey, Reggie. Can I ask you for a huge favor?"

"Of course. What do you need?" he asks.

"Is there somewhere quiet the rest of the guests don't know about?"

"I know the perfect place," Reggie smiles and quickly gives you directions. You stand, ready to go to this secret spot before anyone notices you are gone.

"Where are you going?"

You turn to find Sarah walking over to you. "We're all heading to the sauna."

“That sounds great, Sarah. I’ll head back to my room and change.” This is the perfect opportunity to slip away from the group for a while.

Sarah smiles. "I'm headed that way, too. When you're done, the Sauna is on B deck towards the front of the ship."

—

You enter your room and change into a swimsuit. You throw your shorts back on overtop and grab a book from your luggage. You quickly make your way out of your room, ensuring you don't run into Sarah.

You carefully avoid the sauna and head to the very back of the ship, just as Reggie suggested. You enter the dining room and step out onto the balcony. The balcony leads to a secluded deck with two lounge chairs. On the table between the two chairs is a pitcher full of lemonade and a couple of glasses.

Reggie must have arranged for this to be brought here for you.

You make yourself comfortable and try to read the book you've brought with you, but the sound of the waves at the back of the boat is so loud. You have a hard time keeping your eyes open, so you set the book down on your chest and let the sun warm your face.

Just as you're about to drift off to sleep, a shadow blocks the sun from your face.

"Seems like you found my hiding place. You must've had the same idea," a deep voice says, and you open your eyes.

"Mr. Miller!" You sit up, fully awake.

He sits down on the lounge chair next to you, leans back, and places his hands behind his head.

"Call me Joel.”

—

As Joel rounds the corner, he's surprised to see your hair flowing off the back of the lounge chair. You look so relaxed that he feels guilty invading your solace, but he can't leave now. If you notice him leaving, he'd make an even bigger fool of himself than he'd done the night before.

"Mr. Miller, I don't know if -" You start.

"Please, I insist," Joel says before you can finish.

"Alright," you answer with a small smile. "I am so sorry if I took your hiding spot. I needed some time to myself, so your intern, Reggie, told me how to get here."

"You can stay as long as you'd like, darlin. Do you mind if I hide out here with you, though?" Joel asks.

You laugh lightly, "It is your boat - Joel."

"True, but finders keepers, right," Joel says, looking over at you and winking. Then, you laugh a real laugh, making him want to say anything to hear you laugh again.

"It would be nice to have some company. Reggie sent out some lemonade. Would you like some?" You ask as you sit up and start filling the two glasses.

Reggie told Joel about his run-in with you the night before and how he'd tried to smooth over his terrible blunder. He made sure he helped you back to your room, and now he was helping you find all the best spots on the ship. He was really going out of his way for you. Joel couldn't help wondering if the boy had a crush on you.

You hand Joel a glass, and he has to stop himself from staring at you in your swimsuit. Reggie would be crazy if he didn't have a bit of a crush on you.

"So you and Sarah met at NYU?" Joel asks.

"Yeah, we were roommates during our undergrad. After that, I stayed to get my master's degree in political science. I just graduated, so this trip came at the perfect time."

"Wow, congratulations. Do you know what you’re gonna do with your degree yet?" Joel is impressed. He had begged Sarah to continue school, even bribing her with a new convertible, but she flat out refused.

"I was actually accepted into Harvard Law. I’ll be starting this upcoming fall semester," you answer rather sheepishly.

You are unlike Sarah's other friends, most of whom live off of trust funds.

"That's real impressive, darlin. My father pushed me to get my degrees in finance, but had I chosen for myself, I like to think I would’ve gone to law school," Joel says. "I don't know if I woulda been able to do it, though. It takes a lot of effort and determination to become a lawyer."

You sigh a little, "I do spend most of my time studying, but one day, it will be worth it."

"I couldn't agree more. That just means you'll have to take every second you can before your next semester to relax, " Joel says.

"That's the idea. It's really why I said yes to Sarah's invitation. I just hope I can find time to relax between everything she has scheduled. I can't really keep up with the partying her friends are used to."

"Now that you mention it, how is it that you and Sarah became friends? You two don't seem to have very similar interests," Joel says.

You laugh again, and Joel can't help but smile.

"Sarah and I did spend our free time very differently, but she knew how to get me to get out and have fun. So I guess she really helped me find a balance between school and having a life."

It's nice to hear someone talk so positively about Sarah. Joel hopes that during this trip, if his daughter spends more time with you, he will get to see more of that side of her. The kind side that Sarah often hides in favor of popularity.

"Well, I'm real glad Sarah invited you to join us."

You quickly return to your glass of lemonade, feeling almost embarrassed, and you sit in companionable silence for a few minutes.

"So, what do you think of Todd?" Joel asks. "It's unlike Sarah to bring a guy to meet me, so this relationship must be important to her."

You're taking a long time to respond, so Joel figures you haven't heard him. He turns to look at you, but you're looking down, purposely not meeting his eyes. "Are you okay?"

You ignore his second question and say, "Um, he seems to make Sarah very happy." You still refuse to meet his gaze as you get to your feet and grab your book off of the table.

Joel is confused by the sudden shift in the conversation, and he hopes he hasn't made another blunder.

"I think I'm going to go back to my room and lay down before the party. Thank you again for sharing your hideout with me," you say.

"Of course. Please, use it any time you want."

Finally, you look at him and, with a weak smile, say, "I will. I enjoyed talking with you, Joel."

"I enjoyed talkin’ with you too. I’ll see you later darlin," Joel says.

You nod and walk away, clutching your book to your chest.

Joel can't help but to watch you as you walk away. There’s something different about you that is intriguing.

He’s not used to women who are beautiful, reserved, and kind. Usually, when a woman he’s talking with finds out how much money he has, it's all he can do to escape from them. Not being able to find someone genuine is the main reason he never dated anyone long-term. There is nothing he hates more than someone trying to get to know him for access to his wealth. Sarah’s mother was the first and only woman to fool Joel into thinking she was someone she wasn't because she wanted him for his money.

Joel closes his eyes and leans back in the lounge chair. He’s positive that the conversation he had with you was genuine. He gets the feeling that there is nothing about you that isn't one hundred percent genuine.

Lost in thought, Joel doesn't hear the footsteps behind him.

"Oh, hello, sir."

Joel turns to see Reggie standing behind the two lounge chairs, looking confused.

"Reggie, I need to thank you for looking after Sarah's guests. You really have gone above and beyond what is expected. You’re doing a remarkable job."

"No problem, sir," he says with a sheepish grin.

"That reminds me to show you those sales reports from last quarter. If you could email Pam, she will get those sent over. Oh, sorry, is there somethin’ you need from me?" Joel asks.

"No, sir, I was just looking for - never mind. I will go get those reports ready. Please excuse me." Reggie says and turns to go.

Joel is confused by the interaction until he looks down at the pitcher of lemonade and the two glasses. You did say that Reggie sent up the lemonade for you, but he sent you two glasses. Joel realizes he had probably intruded on a moment Reggie set up. The thought that Reggie wants your attention shouldn't bother Joel, but it does. It bothers Joel more than he cares to admit.

He remains on the lounge chair, replaying his conversation with you over again in his head.

Finally, after an hour, he decides its probably time he rejoins the guests. Sarah is planning a cocktail party for that evening, and Joel needs to check with the staff that everything is running smoothly. Sarah had ordered an ice sculpture to be made in her image, and she told Joel she would 'die of embarrassment' if it didn't turn out. Joel plans to go check it before she can. That way, if there is a problem, Joel will be the one to deal with it, and Sarah won't get a chance to terrorize his staff.

As Joel exits the dining room on his way to the kitchen, he hears his name being called from the other end of the hall.

"Mr. Miller! I've been looking for you," Todd says.

Joel turns towards him, wondering what you aren't telling him about Todd.

"I was hoping I could have a word with you, sir. Alone.”

—

You wake up on the fourth day of the trip to a fantastic view. Wrapping a robe around yourself, you make your way to the balcony. The yacht is no longer moving; it must have come into port sometime during the night. You're docked at a tropical island with white sand beaches lined with palm trees.

A squeal of excitement threatens to escape you. Sarah told you yesterday that you'd be going on a private luxury catamaran dolphin tour. You've always wanted to see a dolphin in the wild. Even being stuck on a smaller boat with Todd all day seems worth it.

You've become quite creative in finding ways to avoid Todd each day. You still attend every planned activity but manage to sneak away and spend some time relaxing. On a few occasions, Reggie saves you from talking to the other members of the group.

You've had a few decent conversations with Alison, the woman in your group with short black hair. You like her far better than Megan, who's caught up in impressing Hudson. Megan is one of those people who puts others down to get a laugh. Unfortunately, you've been the subject of too many of her jokes for you to want to get to know her any better.

But no conversation could match up to the one you had with Sarah's father, Joel. It was also the only conversation you kept thinking about; you have to be careful whenever he's around not to stare too much. Joel, like you, usually joins the group for a while but slips away as soon as he knows he won't be missed.

Quickly getting dressed in shorts and T-shirt over the top of your bikini, you head to the dining room for breakfast before you board the catamaran.

You're the first one there, as you should have remembered that to Sarah and her friends, on time is actually early.

You sit next to one of the windows overlooking the island and place your breakfast order. Each meal is prepared by a private chef who makes the best food you've ever tasted.

The waiter brings over your latte while you wait for your lobster frittata.

You sip at your drink and watch the tropical birds flying over the ocean. Joel fills the chair across from you, breaking your trance. You look over and smile at him.

"Mornin, darlin," Joel says, returning your smile. Your stomach does a small flip as his eyes meet yours.

"Good morning," you say, glad that you picked one of the smaller tables that only has room for two.

"This has got to be my favorite place to stop. It's a quiet little island between Florida and the Bahamas. The locals are amazing, and the restaurants are to die for."

"It is absolutely beautiful," you say wistfully.

"So, what does Sarah have planned for you today?" Joel asks.

"She has a private catamaran dolphin tour planned," you say, and your tone conveys how badly you're looking forward to it.

"Oh, that will be an enjoyable day. You seem excited about the dolphins."

"I have loved dolphins ever since I was little. My parents even bought me a little stuffed animal dolphin that I carried everywhere with me. I named it Dolly," you say and then quickly stop talking.

The memory of the loss of your parents still stings, and you do your best not to talk about it.

"Have you ever gotten to see one in real life?" Joel asks you with a slightly amused look on his face, probably imagining you with the little dolphin doll.

"No. There is a pod that lives year-round off the coast of Maine where my grandpa lives, but he doesn't get out much. So I never got the chance." You're not quite as happy now as you were before as thoughts of how much you miss your family fill your mind.

Joel remains quiet. You hope he won't ask why your parents never took you. You don't want to explain about them passing away. However, you're saved when your food arrives, which gives you time to change the subject before he can ask. "You'll have to help me spot the dolphins while we are on the catamaran today," you say, hoping to sound innocent.

Joel's face falls, "I'm afraid I have some business that I really have to attend to. I won't be able to make it."

"Oh," you say, trying not to sound disappointed. You had been hoping to spend some more time with him. He's one of the only people here you like to talk to.

"I'd love to hear about your first dolphin sighting when you get back, though," he says, running a hand through his hair.

"I'll make sure I get some good pictures," you respond with a small smile. You would love the opportunity to speak to him again, and that would be the perfect excuse.

Your conversation continues as more members of the group finally turn up. When you finish your meal, Joel excuses himself and heads to his private office on the yacht.

You're sad to see him go but fight the urge to watch him walk away. Instead, you focus your eyes on the ocean, imagining what it would be like to see a dolphin leap out of the water.

Sarah is the last to arrive at breakfast, wearing another glamorous bikini with a matching sheer coverup.

She spends a few minutes sitting near Megan chatting away while she eats. Then, she says the words you've been waiting for. "The catamaran is waiting!" Sarah squeals, lifting her mimosa into the air.

With a smile, you hop up, finally eager to take part in one of the activities.

—

A man dressed in a light blue polo hands you a glass of champagne as you board the catamaran. As the captain sets sail, you quickly find a spot next to the railing.

Sarah and Todd immediately find the net forming a hammock between the two hulls and claim it for themselves. You drain your glass of champagne and turn your eyes to the ocean, constantly scanning for any movement.

The party continues on around you, and Sarah and Todd are getting more and more handsy as the cruise continues. The crew members have turned on music, and the group is dancing, drinking, and enjoying themselves.

You keep your focus on the water and try your best to ignore your ex with his tongue down your friend's throat. You grab another glass of champagne as one of the servers walks by and sample some of the hors d'oeuvres until you accidentally eat a dip that turns out to be caviar. You're not a fan.

After a while, you notice that you've turned around and are on a reef not far from the yacht. Your heart sinks as the captain stops the boat. Hudson and Todd jump into the water and try to get the girls to jump in.

"Excuse me," you say to get the attention of the man in the blue polo.

"Yes, miss? Can I get you another glass of champagne?" he answers.

"No, I'm fine, thank you. I was just wondering if you could let me know when we will start looking for the dolphin pod again?" You ask.

"I'm sorry, but Miss Miller is getting bored of looking for the dolphins and has ordered the captain to stop so everyone can do some snorkeling and swimming. We can't resume our tour until Miss Miller gives us the go-ahead. This area is great for snorkeling, though; you can see a lot of wildlife swimming in the coral," he says with a sympathetic smile.

"I see. Thank you," you say, turning away from the man, trying to keep the tears of disappointment from welling up in your eyes.

You had been so close, and the thought of leaving without seeing a single dolphin is heartbreaking.

You hear screams of excitement behind you, and you head to the swim deck and dangle your feet in the water. Todd has convinced Sarah to jump in the water, and he is now kissing her while they are both treading water. He'd never been that romantic when he was dating you; you guess he was too busy cheating on you to show you that kind of attention.

You know you probably should have given up on your hope of seeing a dolphin, but you continue to scan the surrounding water. You notice a jet ski in the distance, and it comes closer and closer to the catamaran. As the rider gets closer, you realize it’s Joel. He pulls his jet ski next to you.

"Hey, you okay?"

"Yeah, we couldn't find the dolphins, though," you try but fail to keep the disappointment out of your voice.

"Really?" Joel says, watching you closely.

"No, everyone was getting bored of looking, so Sarah had the captain stop so we could snorkel over the reef," you say while you watch your feet kick back and forth in the water. You look over at the group, all swimming on the reef, and notice Todd watching your interaction closely.

"I bet we could find them. There's a cove not far from here that I know the dolphins have been spotted in before. We could ride over there together."

You look up at him with a bit of hope in your eyes. "Are you sure?" you ask, shocked at his offer.

"Darlin, I don't want you to miss out on seeing the dolphins. Come with me," Joel says, holding out his hand to you.

So, you reach out and grab his hand with a smile on your face. He helps you off of the swim deck and onto the back of the jet ski.

"Let's go find those dolphins," he says.

You take off, and you have to grab around Joel's waist to stay on the jet ski. You nearly jump when his skin meets yours. It's only then that you realize Joel is shirtless. You instinctively want to slide closer to him, to press your body against his muscular back. You constantly have to work to fight that urge. He’s your friend's dad, you scream at yourself internally. You switch your attention back to the water. The water is crystal clear and calm. Looking off the side of the jet ski, you can see to the bottom in some places. You pass over colorful sea life that is so captivating that it almost takes your mind off of Joel's muscular back.

Almost.

"There's a cove just up here where the dolphins are known to spend time. A boat would have a hard time getting back there, especially one the size of the catamaran, but this jet ski will be a perfect fit," Joel yells over the sound of the running jet ski.

"I can't thank you enough for trying to help me. It really means a lot."

You continue at a fast pace in the direction of the cove until you get close enough that you can see the narrow inlet. Joel slows the jet ski, and you coast into the cove. The circular cove is surrounded on all sides by beaches that ease into cliff faces. The cove is completely cut off from everything; you understand why the dolphins would find this place appealing. Joel cuts the engine, and the sound of the waves crashing against the shore takes over.

"I have never seen anything like this," you say, staring around. "The water is so - blue."

"I stumbled upon it when I was a teenager. My dad was teaching me how to sail. He thought the best way for me to learn was to figure it out by myself." Joel chuckles under his breath. "He sent me out on a small sailboat all alone, and I got caught in a current and pushed in here," Joel says, a bit more seriously.

"That must have been terrifying," you say.

"It was. I sat on the boat for a long time, using every curse word I knew, and aimed them all at my father. After that, my anger started to turn to panic; I had no idea how I was going to get back or if anyone would be able to find me in this cove. Then I noticed the water rippling next to me," he says. "It was a big group of dolphins, and I watched them play and forgot about my problems. After they swam away, I was calm enough to figure out how to get myself back to the dock," Joel says, staring into the water.

"That’s an amazing story," you say, watching the creases on his brow relax. It seems as though the memory is very bitter sweet for him.

"It was a big turning point for me. I watched my parents be unhappy with each other for years, and their unhappiness trickled down to how they treated me," he says with a sigh. "The dolphins seemed so happy and were so in tune with each other. I swore to myself I would have a different kind of marriage and family life than my parents did."

You sit quietly for a long time, the sound of the soft waves lapping against the side of the jet ski. You find yourself still pressed against him, though you let your arms drop. You catch yourself constantly looking at him. It's undeniable at this point, you want Joel. You can't help but wonder if that is why he isn't with Sarah's mom, but you don't dare ask.

"My parents tried to take me to see dolphins in the wild. They planned an amazing trip for my sixteenth birthday. They were going to take me to San Diego, and we were going to stay in this cute little beach house."

"But you didn't get to go?" Joel asks.

"They were going to surprise me with it, but they never got the chance. They got in a head-on collision with a drunk driver on their way home from picking up takeout. I found the tickets and travel plans in an envelope in my mom's nightstand," you say. You feel comfortable sharing part of your past after Joel was so open with you. A very small number of people knew about your parents passing, but you feel safe with him.

"Baby girl I'm so sorry," Joel says and then pauses, clearly not knowing what to say.

"Thank you. It was a few years ago, but I still miss them every day," you say. The silence returns as you continue to scan the water. "Joel, look!" You nearly throw yourself backward off of the jet ski because you see a ripple of green-grey under the water.

"It looks like you are going to get your wish, darlin," he says with a huge smile on his face. It seems as though he is enjoying your excitement more than watching the dolphins.

A large pod has entered the cove and is swimming all around the jet ski. The water is so clear that you can see each dolphin individually. Some are playing a game of chase with each other. There are mamas with their babies swimming close to them. Others are even brave enough to come close to the jet ski, investigating what you are.

"They are common bottlenose dolphins. Oh, look over there, Joel!" You squeal in delight as two younger dolphins that are racing each other jump out of the water. "I so badly want to get in and swim with them, but I am afraid it will scare them away," you say.

"Their beauty is best observed from a distance. If you try to move too fast, it can ruin what's happening in the now," he responds quietly.

He says it so quietly that you wonder if you weren't supposed to hear him.

You sit and watch the dolphins play for almost an hour until they are ready to go, and they make their way out of the cove. "That was the most incredible thing I've seen in my entire life," you say breathlessly.

"I was thinking the same thing," Joel responds, but he is staring at you.

"I don't know if I've ever been this happy before. I'm so happy I could kiss you," the words escape your mouth before you can stop them.

Joel laughs, "Don't get my hopes up."

You smile but quickly look away. Your face feels like it's on fire. Joel kindly gives you a few minutes to recover and for your face to stop burning.

"Would it be horrible if I said I'm not ready to go back and join the rest of the group yet?" you ask.

Joel laughs, "It might be, but I agree with you."

He starts the engine again, but instead of heading out of the cove, he takes you to the beach at the far end of the cove.

He takes your hand and helps you down into the water. It's up to your waist when you jump down, and you wade to the beach while Joel anchors the jet ski.

You let your feet sink into the hot sand. It clings to your feet and legs as you sit down and rest your weight on your elbows. Joel walks over to join you and stretches out next to you. You both sit in silence and let the waves hit your feet.

"Did you ever go sailing again after what happened when you found the cove?" you ask.

"I didn't sail again for a long time. I resented my dad, so I purposely hated everything he loved. He loved to sail, so I refused to do it," he says with a small smile. "That's actually why I started my own business ventures in air travel. Flying always terrified my father, so I picked a business he would have no interest in."

"But you did sail again, right?"

"I did in my late twenties, only when my dad was out of town. I didn't want to give him the satisfaction of thinking he was right," he answers.

You laugh lightly with Joel and return your attention to the cove. You want to take a mental picture of everything. You hope that when you look back on today, you will be able to remember exactly how you felt.

"I don't know how I will ever repay you for such a perfect day," you say.

"You don't owe me anything. I'm just glad you’re enjoying yourself."

"I will find a way," you say defiantly with a smirk.

"You are not what I expected, darlin," he says.

You laugh, "I hope that's a good thing."

Joel slides his hand toward yours and brushes your pinky finger with his. A jolt of hope rushes through you. You want to grab his hand but settle for the brief touch of your fingers against each other.

"It’s a very good thing. To be completely honest, I was dreading this trip after Sarah invited all of her friends. But, my time getting to know you has been well worth it," Joel says.

You slowly slide your hand away from his after he mentions Sarah. It's so easy to forget that Joel is Sarah's dad when you're alone together. However, that doesn't change reality. Are you awful for finding him so irresistible?

"It's probably best if we head back. We're all having dinner together at one of my favorite restaurants on the island. I think you're gonna love it," Joel says while getting to his feet. "Do you want to drive the jet ski back? I’d be happy to teach you if you'd like," he says with a hint of mischief behind his smile.

"I don't know. I've never driven anything like that before. Are you sure you trust me not to tip us both in the ocean?" you say with a shy grin.

"I trust you. Plus, I'm a strong swimmer," he says with a wink. He reaches his hand down to help you to your feet.

Before grabbing his hand, you pick up a small pink shell sitting next to you on the beach and slip it into your cover-up. You want something to remind you of the day and seeing the dolphins.

—

"This lever here is the gas, and you steer just like you would with the handlebars on a bike," Joel says from behind you on the jet ski. "Just take it nice and slow out of the cove. You can get up to a higher speed when we get to open water, and you feel more comfortable," he continues.

You can feel his warm breath on the side of your neck, and it sends goosebumps all across your body. You imagine his lips pressing to your neck where his breath is warming. You wonder what his hands would feel like on your body -

"Ready?"

"Oh, um, sorry, what?" You say, pulling yourself out of your daydream.

"Are you ready to go?" Joel says with a small chuckle. You're glad he's sitting behind you, so he can't see your face.

"Yes, I think so," you say with slight hesitation.

"Don't worry, I'm right here," he assures you. "Just take it slow."

You ease your thumb on the throttle, and slowly, you start moving. You remain at a snail-like pace until you're completely out of the cove and a bit beyond.

"Try givin’ it a bit more gas," Joel says softly next to your ear.

You aren't prepared for your stomach fluttering at Joel's closeness and not thinking clearly you hit the throttle way too hard. Your hand slips from the throttle, and with a rush of air beneath you, you go sailing through the air. A moment after you hit the ocean, you hear a second splash and know you've thrown Joel off of the jet ski, too.

As you sink into the water, you begin to panic. You can't tell which way the surface is. You fight to swim to the surface, disoriented and fighting for air. With a gasp, you emerge from the water and look around frantically for Joel. He pops out of the water next to you.

"Joel, I am so sorry! Are you okay?" You ask.

Joel's mouth breaks into a giant smile, and he starts laughing. He laughs one of those deep, uncontrollable laughs; he has finally relaxed enough to truly let go. You can't help but start laughing, too.

"See, that's why you have to wear the kill cord on your wrist. That way, if you fall off, the jet ski doesn't keep going without you," he says and starts swimming over to the empty jet ski.

You start swimming after him and watch him as he pulls himself back onto the jet ski. His back muscles flex as he gets back on, and the water droplets dripping down his body emphasize the definition between each muscle. You can't help but imagine running your hands down his back as he hovers over the top of you.

Joel reaches his hand down to pull you back on the watercraft. You have to catch your imagination before you let it wander off too far. He pulls you up effortlessly, and you sit down behind him.

"I think I'm going to let you drive us back now."

"Are you sure you don't want to take the reins again?" he says, gesturing to the handlebars.

"I think it'll be safer if I let you take over. It seems like I only have two speeds," you say with a small chuckle.

"Fine, but we're going to have you driving one of these like a pro before this vacation is over," Joel says with a small smile. You wrap your arms around his waist, and he sets off.

As Joel drives, you replay watching the dolphins swim in the cove. You're so distracted that it isn't until he stops the jet ski that you realize he hasn't gone back to the same dock where the yacht is waiting for you. Instead, you're at the edge of a small coastal town, where each side of the streets is lined with the glowing lights of shops and restaurants.

"Oh, I thought we would go back to the yacht before dinner. I can't exactly go to dinner dressed like this," you say, gesturing to your very wet swimsuit that is clinging to your body.

Joel looks you up and down and smiles, "I don't think you would hear many complaints, but don't worry, we can stop at one of the shops and get you something dry."

Your heart sinks. You have very limited funds, and getting new clothes is definitely not in your budget. Not wanting to admit this, you nod your head and follow Joel down the street. You'll have to pay him back because you haven't brought any money with you.

Joel leads the way into a boutique called, AmoreBelle, and you can already tell from the window displays that the store is way out of your price range.

The smell of fresh lavender drifts out through the door as soon as it opens. The walls and floors are the brightest white, so all of the customer's attention is drawn to the glamorous dresses hanging on the racks. You feel so out of place in your simple and very wet clothes. You pray that you won't drip on their floors.

"Well, hello, welcome back," says a saleswoman as she comes to greet you. She smiles at Joel, clearly recognizing him.

"Jane, s’good to see you still work here. This is my friend," Joel says, introducing you. "I need you to help her find some new outfits. As you can see, we need to get her out of these wet clothes."

"Anything for you. I already have some great pieces in mind that will go perfectly with her hair. I will go get you a room started, hun," Jane says and walks away.

"I'm going to head over to the men's store next door, but I think you should try this one," he says as he grabs a cocktail dress in a deep midnight blue and hands it to you.

"Your room is right this way," Jane says and gestures for you to follow her.

"I'll see you soon," Joel says and turns to leave, but before walking out the door, he stops to talk to one of the other women on the sales floor. She immediately starts gathering dresses off of the racks.

You walk around the corner, and there is a pedestal in the middle of the room surrounded by mirrors and changing room doors. You've watched TV shows where women try on wedding dresses in a setting similar to this, but you never imagined yourself in a place like this.

"I put some things for you to try in the first room on the right. Can I get you anything? Champagne?" the woman asks.

“That sounds lovely,” you say while trying to hide your shaking hands. You turn and shut the door of your changing room as soon as the saleswoman leaves. The changing room is already lined with outfits for you to try on. You take a deep breath before looking at the price tag on the dress Joel had handed you. You could have cried and probably would have had it not been for a soft knock on the door. You open the door, and the saleswoman Joel spoke to before leaving is standing there, with her arms full of elegant dresses.

"Mr. Miller asked me to make sure you leave in a semi-formal dress. I brought some great options. My name is McKenzie." she says as she starts hanging up the dresses on the hooks in the dressing room.

"Thanks," you answer. You consider running out the door and waiting by the jet ski until Joel returns, but you know you will have to explain eventually.

"Well, please let me know if you need anything."

"Actually, McKenzie. I have something to confess," you say nervously.

McKenzie looks confused but lets you continue.

"Everything in this dressing room is way out of my price range. Honestly, I probably couldn't afford a pair of underwear."

McKenzie smiles and giggles a little. Your face drops; you can't believe she is laughing at you for being broke.

"I am so sorry. I am not laughing at you; I totally understand your concern. I just figured you already knew. You don't have to be able to afford anything here."

"What do you mean?" You ask, still confused.

"Joel already has everything covered. He told me I am not allowed to let you leave this store until you have found a dress and at least ten new outfits," McKenzie says, amused with the shocked look on your face.

"I can't possibly go along with this," you say, your voice cracking.

"You have to. If you don't, we won't earn any commission." McKenzie leans closer and whispers, "I can't afford the underwear here either."

You are uncomfortable with the idea of Joel spending so much money on you, but you refuse to be the reason that these women miss out on a huge commission. You immediately feel better, knowing you have much in common with McKenzie and possibly Jane.

"Okay, where do we start?" you say with a small sigh of defeat.

"Let's start with the everyday outfits and move on to the gowns after," she says and then adds, "Oh, we can also spend some time looking at the underwear if you'd like."

That's when you realize how this must look to these saleswomen and how it would look to anyone. You start to wonder how many other women he's done this for; the saleswomen seem used to this type of thing. You quickly push the thought out of your mind. It doesn't matter what this looks like; Joel is just a kind person. Plus, there is no way he would be interested in someone like you.

After many outfit changes and finding more new clothes than you've bought for yourself in an entire year, all that is left to pick out is a dress. McKenzie and Jane have outdone themselves in giving you beautiful options. You try on every single one and are met with many compliments from the sales team as you model them on the platform in the center of the dressing rooms.

Jane refills your glass of champagne and asks, "Have you decided which one you want to go with?"

"I have one more left to try on before I decide," you say and slip back into the changing room.

As soon as you put on Joel's choice, you know it is the one. The midnight blue silk slides over every inch of your body like it is molded specifically for you. The dress brushes the floor, but a slit up one side makes it easy to move in.

"Wow," two voices behind you say in unison.

"I'll take this one.”

#joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller x f!reader #pedro pascal #joel miller smut

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scoonsalicious · 2 days

Text

Unwanted: Chapter 25, Unprotected - Pt. 4

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Fem!Reader

Summary: When your FWB relationship with your best friend Bucky Barnes turns into something more, you couldn’t be happier. That is, however, until a new Avenger sets her sights on your super soldier and he inadvertently breaks your heart. You take on a mission you might not be prepared for to put some distance between the two of you and open yourself up to past traumas. Too bad the only one who can help you heal is the one person you can no longer trust.

Warnings: (For this part only; see Story Masterlist for general Warnings) Language, medical procedures, Pocket getting called out on her shit, deep discussions, mentions of drug use and anonymous sex.

Word Count: 2.7k

Previously On...: You woke up in the hospital to some quite... surprising news.

A/N: LET THE HEALING SORT OF BEGIN! I AM READY FOR IT.

NOTE! The tag list is a fickle bitch, so I'm not really going to be dealing with it anymore. If you want to be notified when new story parts drop, please follow @scoonsaliciousupdates

Banner By: The absolutely amazing @mrsbuckybarnes1917!

Thank you to all those who have been reading; if you like what you've read, likes, comments, and reblogs give me life, and I truly appreciate them, and you!

Taglist: (Sadly, tag list is closed; Tumblr will not let me add anyone new. If you want to be notified when I update, please Follow me for Notifications!) @jmeelee @cazellen @mrsbuckybarnes1917 @blackhawkfanatic @buckybarnessimpp @hayjat @capswife @itsteambarnes @marygoddessofmischief @sebastians-love @learisa @lethallyprotected @rabbitrabbit12321 @buckybarnesandmarvel @fanfictiongirl77 @calwitch @fantasyfootballchampion @selella @jackiehollanderr @wintercrows @sashaisready @missvelvetsstuff @angelbabyyy99 @keylimebeag @maybefoxysouls @vicmc624 @j23r23 @wintercrows @crist1216 @cjand10 @pattiemac1@les-sel @dottirose @winterslove1917 @harperkenobi @ivet4 @casey1-2007 @mrsevans90 @steeph-aniie @bean-bean2000 @beanbagbitch @peachiestevie @wintrsoldrluvr @shadowzena43

Tumblr will not let me directly tag the following: @marcswife21 @erelierraceala @jupiter-107 @doublejeon @hiqhkey @unaxv @brookeleclerc

A few hours later, you were discharged with antibiotics to stave off any potential infection and over-the counter iron tablets to help replenish all the blood you’d lost. The car ride back to the safehouse was awkward in its heavy silence, the only words spoken between you and Bucky were when you asked to stop at the local pharmacy to buy out their stock of hydrogen peroxide. You’d need to tackle those blood stains in your bedroom before they had time to fully set.

As you walked in the door to the apartment, Bucky on your heels, you took in the space as he would be seeing it for the very first time– it was an absolute mess, with clothes strewn about, fast food wrappers and empty liquor bottles littering every available surface. You watched his eyes as they raked over the mess, pausing to linger on the empty condom wrappers your last Bad Decision had left on the coffee table, next to the remnants of the coke you two had done.

“What the fuck is this?” he asked. “Did someone break in and trash the place while you were in the hospital?”

You grabbed a discarded bra from the back of an armchair, where Bad Decision #... something, had tossed it in his hurry to get at you. “Wasn’t exactly expecting company,” you grumbled defensively.

Bucky laughed nervously. “What, so you’ve just been having random sex and getting drunk everyday?” The look he gave you was desperate, as though begging you to contradict him, to tell him it was all some sort of joke you were playing on him, but you just stood there in silence, not meeting his eyes.

“Jesus Christ, Pocket, this isn’t you,” Bucky exhaled. “None of this is who you are. What have you been doing to yourself?”

“No,” you scoffed, “this is who you made me, Barnes. So, if you have a problem with what I’ve become, you’ve only got yourself to blame.” You opened your arms wide to encompass the entire apartment, and by extension, the evidence of your downward spiral. “Welcome to the consequences of your own actions!”

“Fuck.” Bucky ran a tired hand down his face after a moment of stunned silence. “I did do this to you, didn’t I? God, I’m so sorry, Pocket. If I could take it back, I would. I know that’s just more empty words, and you’re probably sick of hearing them, but it’s the truth. Hurting you is the biggest regret of my life.”

“Yet, you keep doing it,” you said, sighing heavily. You flopped down on the couch, exhausted and sore. The nurse had warned you there’d be residual cramping, and had insisted that regular ibuprofen would take care of it, but you’d already had six-hundred milligrams and were still aching. You wondered briefly if you had any oxy left from the club, but decided that getting high in front of Bucky was probably not the smartest move you could make right now, so you opted to deal.

Bucky walked over and made a move like he was about to sit down next to you, but something caught his eye. Bending over, he ran a finger through the white powder residue on the coffee table, bringing it to his tongue to taste.

“Shit,” he said, making a face. “Pocket, is this cocaine?!”

“What are you, McGruff the Crime Dog?” you asked sarcastically, before realizing the reference was probably completely wasted on him. He just continued to stare at you expectantly. “So what if it is?” You asked with a shrug.

“Since when do you do coke?” Bucky asked incredulously. You really didn’t like the way he was looking at you at the moment. Like he had opened the fridge, looking for a carton of milk, but instead found a giraffe in a three-piece suit.

“Since I ran out of oxy,” you said nonchalantly. “And molly.”

A change came over Bucky’s features, and you watched them go hard, judging. “You’ve been doing all this– the drinking, the drugs, sleeping around with god knows who, while you’ve been pregnant?! What? It wasn’t enough to kill our baby, you had to try to kill yourself in the process? Do you know how absolutely fucking stupid you’re being?!” He was shouting at you now, the anger he’d been holding at bay since the hospital coming out in full force.

You stood back up, taking in a shuddering breath. You hadn’t expected him to blow up at you so unexpectedly. “I didn’t know,” you said softly, voice trembling. “I didn’t know I was pregnant.”

“Would it have made a fucking difference?” he roared. “You already admitted you would have aborted it if you had known! Can you honestly say you wouldn’t have risked the baby’s health– your health– even if you did know?”

You didn’t have an answer to that. “I don’t know,” you whispered.

“Pocket,” the anger seemed to leave Bucky almost as quickly as it had come, “if you hadn’t gotten medical attention right when you did, you could have died. You could have bled out, gone into septic shock. This miscarriage could have fucking killed you. Do you know what that would have done to me? To Sam and Steve? Nat, Wanda, Pepper? What it would have done to fucking Tony?” You were hit with a sudden wave of guilt. In your spiral, you hadn’t considered for a moment what your actions would have meant to the people who loved you. You only cared about forgetting your own pain.

“When you were getting dressed to come home, I asked the nurse what could have caused the miscarriage. One of the things she mentioned was heavy drug use, but I didn’t pay it any attention. I thought ‘no, not my Pocket, she’s too smart to do something so incredibly dumb; has to be something else.’ But here you are, throwing your entire life away. And for what? Some cheap thrills? And now, you’ve gone and lost a baby and you don’t even care!”

It was too much. His words were getting to be too much, and you were dangerously close to losing it. “Of course I fucking care!” you sobbed, the damn breaking and setting free a flood of tears you’d been pretending weren’t just waiting to spill. “I had our baby– ours, yours and mine– and I fucking lost it because I needed to forget how much pain I was in! How much you fucking made me hurt! It’s been almost two months and I still want to die when I think about you with her. I want to fucking die.”

Bucky’s arms were around you as you collapsed into him, gasping for air between choking sobs. “I close my eyes, and it’s all I can see,” you wailed. “I’ve fucked so many men trying to forget about you, to feel anything besides despair, but all they do is remind me of what I’m missing, what I lost. All the drinking, the drugs, all the sex– I just wanted to forget, to have a few minutes where I could pretend my life wasn’t ruined, that the best thing I ever had hadn’t been stolen away from me!”

Bucky held you tighter, rubbing soothing patterns into your back in an attempt to calm you. “And I just keep losing,” you cried. “I lost you, I lost our baby, I lost Chloe.”

If Bucky wondered who Chloe was, he knew it wasn’t the right time to ask. “Hey,” he said, tilting your chin up so you were looking at him and wiping the tears from your cheeks, “you haven’t lost me. I’m still right here. I know I fucked up. I don’t expect you to forgive me; I don’t deserve it, but I’m always going to be here, no matter what. And, okay, you lost this baby. But that doesn’t mean you won’t have a chance for another.”

“I don’t want someone else’s baby,” you told him, wiping at the tears that just wouldn’t stop coming, and choosing to completely ignore the fact that you’d lost him in every way that actually mattered. “This was the only chance for our baby, and I destroyed it! It’s the universe’s way of telling me I’m not supposed to be a mother.”

“Why the fuck would you think that?” Bucky asked accusingly. “What makes you think you wouldn’t be an amazing mom?”

You let out a hard laugh through your tears. “What the fuck do I know about being a mother?” you asked him bitterly. “It’s not like I had a shining example of one growing up. All I know how to do is push people away. To make them not love me.” That was the sick truth, your exhausted brain and broken heart were telling you in the moment: your biological father, your mother, Bucky. All of them had turned from you, had pulled their love at the first opportunity. A logical part of your brain would have known this wasn’t the case, and that you had so many more people who did love you, but you weren’t running on logic right now.

“Stop,” Bucky begged, voice cracking. “That’s not true. Sweetheart, that’s not true. You are so damn easy to love, I fell for you immediately. I know you don’t believe it, but I never stopped loving you. I’m never gonna stop loving you.”

“Then why, Bucky?” you cried, clinging to him, desperate for an answer that made sense. “Why did you do this to me?”

Bucky pulled you down onto the couch with him, cradling you in his lap. He gently rocked you back and forth. “Because I’m broken, sweets. I’m broken, and I’m stupid, and I let my anger get the best of me. I was so convinced that you were too good for me, that I didn’t deserve you, that I sabotaged us to prove myself right. But none of that is worth seeing you like this. None of that was worth putting you through all the hurt I did. And I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry. Nothing I say can undo it. Nothing I do is gonna change what happened, fix the damage I did to you. All I can do is show you that it’s never gonna happen again, whether or not you ever end up forgivin’ me. There’s never gonna be another girl for me, and if you never want me again, that’s okay; I’ll understand. I deserve it and I’ll learn to live with it, but it’s not gonna change how I feel. You’ll be the last girl I’ll ever make love to, even if you decide you never wanna give me another chance.”

You weren’t sure what to say to that. Simply because you weren’t sure if you’d ever be able to give him another chance. But that reminded you– there was something you wanted to address with him.

“I’m sorry,” you told him softly.

Bucky narrowed his eyes at you with a tilt of his head. “What are you sorry about, doll? I’m the one who should be spending the rest of their life apologizin’ to you.”

You turned away from him. “I’m sorry about what Hydra did to you,” you said. When he didn’t say anything, you went on: “I, uh, asked Sam,” you continued. “About what you’d told me with the sparring and how you get… excited.” You felt him still beneath you, but didn’t want to lose your nerve. “I’m sorry that I doubted that they put you through that kind of abuse, and I’m so sorry it happened to you. And… I’m– I’m sorry I didn’t make you feel like I was a safe person you could share that part of your past with.”

Bucky let out an agonizingly slow breath. “Sweets,” he began, “it was never about feeling like you weren’t a safe place for me to be open about it. Not once.”

You took in a shuddering breath, hating that you were making this moment, in a way, about you. “But… you told Steve, and Sam and– and… her. But you didn’t tell me.” You risked a glance at him, afraid he was going to be angry at you, but all you saw was patience in his eyes. “I must have said or done something that made you feel like you couldn’t share it with me, and whatever that was, I’m sorry.”

Bucky shook his head sadly and rubbed his human hand up and down your back. “No, baby.” He exhaled. “It was never like that. I didn’t tell you, because I was ashamed.”

You raised your eyes and gave him a questioning look.

“I could tell Sam, and Steve, and even Carthage, because I didn’t give a shit if they thought I was… fucked up… sexually. It didn’t matter what they thought about it, because, well, I wasn’t trying to impress them, to make them want me, want to be with me. But you?” He brought his vibranium hand up to cup your face, turning it so you were looking at him. “I didn’t want you lookin’ at me and thinkin’ that I was broken, that I didn’t… didn’t work right in the way I wanted you the most. I’d never be able to stand it. I was just so ashamed and embarrassed; and I couldn’t stand the thought of you lookin’ at me the way I looked at myself.”

“Barnes,” you offered with a small, small smile, “I have never, not once, even considered you were broken, sexually. Not before I found out, and certainly not after. In fact, I’ve spent the last two months desperately trying to make myself forget just how not fucked up you are in that department.”

Bucky cleared his throat. “Just, uh, outta curiosity, sweets, how many attempts at forgetting are we talking about here?”

You scrunched up your mouth. “You seriously want to know how many guys I’ve fucked since we broke up, Barnes?”

Bucky shrugged his shoulders in a completely failed attempt at seeming nonchalant. “Like I said, just curious. What are we talking… like, two? Three?”

You snorted. Multiply that by ten, you thought. “You really don’t want to know, Barnes. Trust me.”

“Jesus Christ,” he moaned. “More than three?!”

You shrugged awkwardly. “It’s really not any of your business, Bucky.”

He ran a hand through his hair. “Fuck,” he said. “Yeah, yeah, I know it’s not. I just can’t stand the fucking thought of someone else putting their hands on you,” he said through clenched teeth.

You raised a brow and gave him a sarcastic look. “Hypocrite much?” you asked, though there was no bite behind your words.

Bucky lowered his head, not meeting your gaze. “Givin’ me a taste of my own medicine, huh, doll? Well, can’t say it’s not fucking bitter, or that I don’t deserve it.”

“I didn’t do it with the purpose of hurting you,” you told him, feeling your tears start to build again. “I did it to get over you. To forget you.”

He brushed a tear from your lashes. “Did it work, doll?” he asked, voice low. “Did you forget? Are you over it?”

You hadn’t. Of course you fucking hadn’t. But you didn’t want him knowing that. Not fully; it was enough though, knowing that he’d felt even a fraction of the jealousy you’d felt. “Hard to say,” you told him, instead. “Maybe the twenty-ninth time’ll be the charm.”

Bucky spluttered and gasped for breath. “TWENTY-NINTH TIME?!? Are you telling me you’ve fucked twenty-eight pieces of shit since you’ve been down here?!” Almost as soon as his frustration burst from him itself, it had died out. “Not my business,” he said, though you could tell he was struggling.

You’d had enough tormenting him for the night, so you snuggled further into his chest. “Not a single one of them made me forget for a second,” you told him, tilting your head up to look into his eyes. Bucky chuffed and leaned down to kiss the top of your head, and for the first time in months, you felt a hint of the safety you used to feel with him. It was small, but it was there, a tiny ember in a fire you’d feared had long died out. With a rattling sigh, you rested your head against his chest as he continued to rock you, and soon, you were lulled asleep to the sound of his steady, familiar, beloved heartbeat.

<- Previous Part / Next Chapter ->

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky x you #bucky x reader #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky x female reader #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes fanfiction #james bucky buchanan barnes #james buchanan barnes #mcu bucky barnes #james barnes

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m3r1m4r5u333 · 3 days

Text

I feel like many people misunderstand us, the unhinged, insufferable people with OTPs so. Here's a quick guide into the mind of an rabid buddie shipper.

I'm not clinging to buddie because I fail to see how awesome Buck's bi growth is. I AM BI!!! You think I don't get how awesome this bi character, this story arc, this bi representation is? Get out. Don't tell me, a bisexual how I should watch and experience a bisexual character. I drive my own brain, thanks.

And I know that it's possible to multi-ship. You don't need to tell me that!!

People need to understand that multi-shipping isn't some grand, epic personality trait that always comes with maturity, that the people who don't multiship are just wee dumb babies.

I may sound like I'm 14. I am not. I am very much not. I'm OLD. So old. And guess what that means? I know myself!!! That's maturity, too. And who I am... Is someone who falls hard, and obsessively.

I know I am just not built to be a multi-shipper. I have tried, sometimes. I have tried so hard. And realised, that's just not me. Multi-shipping is never as fun, and interesting or rewarding to me as focusing on my One True Pair. It just makes me feel suffocated, to attempt to like something I don't really find much joy in.

That doesn't mean that I hate the actors or characters who are "getting in the way" of my ship. Nope. I actually often adore the characters and actors, and the writing. I can also see and appreciate what some other character means for my OTP's growth.

Like in this case... Lou, playing Tommy? Not only do I love his acting choices (so funny, so skilled) but he also, he sounds like a lovely guy. I'm a fan!! Also, damn he's fine, I need a bucket for my drool.

And Tommy, the character...? I think the character is interesting - and don't get me started on "problematic", the shaming is futile. I am all in for fucked up, problematic characters. If you don't get why, you should really read some literary classics. Fucked up, problematic characters are art, they make you think, they broaden world-views. My best educators have been the monsters, and I will take this stand to my grave.

Demand for "unproblematic" is demand for censure, and censure is just another form of oppression. Want characters without flaws? Go watch Teletubbies. Ffs, even moomins have flaws. (Of course they do, Tove Jansson was a freaking amazing writer.)

Anyway. The point here is.

I am a mono-shipper. And I love slowburns, I love the romance of them, I get attached to ships. And I'm queer.

But where are the queer slowburns? I have been waiting for a slow-burn queer romance for so long. I CRAVE IT. Getting that, truly, would be queer history, a revolution.

And I see the potential for it in buddie!! The spark, the history, the journey. It has the potential to be the greatest queer slow-burn I've ever experienced.

You think I'd just abandon a ship like that, a slowburn like that, for some fast food, cooked up in what... Two episodes? Pffft. I invest. I am waiting for my roast to cook.

So yeah. I'm not going anywhere. I will watch, and let my freak flag fly, and I will have the time of my life. If buddie never becomes canon? Well so what. I can deal. It's not my first rodeo. Disappointment isn't actually deathly, you know. Trying to avoid disappointment kills hope, and enthusiasm. So yeah, I refuse to manage my expectations. I'm all in, and enjoying this mad ride.

"Well, I'd still take you."

"You think so?"

"I KNOW."

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seiya-starsniper · 2 days

Note

Also, "you know I love you, right" with dreamling from the gentle prompts

Hi anon I am SO SORRY this is like almost six months late, but I finally wrote something for this prompt!!! 😁💖

AO3 Link Here or read the whole fic below!

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Dream is nervous.

He knows, logically, that he should not be. That he is, as always, catastrophizing things in his mind, thinking of the worst possible scenario for how things will go. But he also knows that what he plans to ask Hob tonight over dinner is not an insignificant question. And he has to get everything just right.

Dream has gotten things wrong so many times in his relationships. With his parents, with his siblings, his friends, his past lovers. He has asked for too much too soon, and given too little until it was too late to fix what had been wronged.

Dream wants to do things right with Hob.

Hob, who has been so patient with Dream as he picked himself up after his divorce from Calliope. Hob, who had only been a casual acquaintance at first, a friend of a friend of a friend. Hob, who had somehow, miraculously, fallen just as deeply in love with Dream over the last two years as Dream had done so with him.

And now, Dream wants them to take the next step in their relationship.

He sets the stage perfectly; buying a bottle of wine from the vineyard where they had their first date to pair with the dinner Hob is preparing in Dream’s kitchen. Candles on the table for ambiance. Dream is also wearing a sleek satin button down that he knows that Hob likes on him.

“Is it my birthday?” Hob asks, waggling his eyebrows when Dream lets him into his flat. When Dream closes the door behind him, he finds himself pulled into the passionate kiss. Hob presses him against the closed door and licks eagerly into Dream’s mouth, drawing a guttural groan from deep inside him.

“You’re tempting enough for me to want dessert first,” Hob teases, nipping at Dream’s bottom lip before pulling away slightly to appreciate Dream’s outfit more. Dream laughs, and pulls Hob back to himself in a tight hug.

“Perhaps I just wanted to look nice tonight,” Dream whispers against his lover’s ear. “But good things come to those who wait.” Hob huffs, then kisses him again, gentler this time, and Dream melts into it.

They eventually make their way into Dream’s kitchen, and Hob notices the bottle of wine and candles on the table immediately.

“Please tell me I haven’t forgotten a special occasion,” he says, his tone teasing, but Dream can tell he’s nervous. Dream shakes his head and nudges Hob towards the stove and countertops, kissing him again and squeezing his arm.

“No special occasion forgotten, I promise,” Dream reassures Hob. “I am only doing this just because. To be romantic.”

“If you say so,” Hob replies, still uncertain. He lets the matter drop, and goes on to prepare dinner while Dream opens the wine and finishes preparing the table. His hands are shaking with every movement, but thankfully Hob is too preoccupied with cooking to really notice. They trae stories about their days, Hob on the latest drama in the faculty department of his university, and Dream complaining about the minutiae of having to plan his gallery opening next month.Dinner itself flies by and before Dream knows it, they’ve opened the bottle of wine and moved to the living room to cuddle.

Hob tries to suggest putting on a movie, but Dream shakes his head, taking a deep breath and putting his wine down on the coffee table.

“You know I love you, right?” Dream asks, wringing his hands together despite himself. Hob hums, and then takes Dream’s hands gently in his. He brings one of Dream’s hands to his lips and kisses it, slow and tender. Dream melts like butter into his touch.

“I do, and I love you too,” Hob answers, his smile warm and inviting. “What’s this all really about, love?”

Dream stares into Hob’s dark brown eyes, and swallows thickly. Now or never he supposes. At least now he’ll know whether they really were of the same mind about the future.

“I—Iwantustomoveintogether,” Dream blurts out all in a single breath. There. Now it was all out in the open.

Hob furrows his brow in confusion at first, seeming to not have understood what Dream had just said. But then his eyes widen in shock, and Dream feels his stomach swoop. He can’t tell whether Hob looks happy, or upset, and it absolutely terrifies Dream.

But then Hob’s eyes soften, and Dream feels hope burn bright like a star within his chest.

“You mean it?” Hob asks, his voice sounding just as fragile as Dream feels. “You—you want—”

“Yes,” Dream exhales, before Hob practically knocks him into the other side of the couch with how forcefully he kisses him. Dream wraps his entire body around Hob’s, unwilling to let go of him for even just a moment. Hob technically hadn’t answered the question just yet, but Dream can infer by the way the other man is kissing him that the answer is a very resolute yes.

“You know, you didn’t need to get all dressed up just to ask me that,” Hob tells him when they break apart to breathe. “I would’ve said yes even if you’d asked me in the middle of Tesco.”

Dream barks out a laugh and then pulls Hob into another kiss.

“I would hope by now, you know that anything else less than the most romantic gesture is unacceptable by my standards,” he replies with mock indignation. Hob doesn’t reply, only kisses him again, and everything is perfect.

They soon fall into excited discussions about the future, talking late into the night about whether they will stay in one flat or the other, the best time to move, how much in monthly payments they can afford between the two of them. Dream is not particularly married to his flat, and he knows that the location is not the most convenient to Hob’s university. Hob’s flat is small, however, and Dream knows he needs a larger space in order to be able to paint. They eventually decide on vacating their separate flats and looking for a place together.

Dream’s stomach is in knots, the good kind though, when they go to bed. He’s never gotten to truly choose his own living space with another person. When he and Calliope had been married, they’d moved into her childhood home, and it had never quite felt like home, even after Orpheus had been born. Even his current flat, the style, the decor, all of it is handpicked by his mother, Nyx.

But this new flat? This hypothetical for now space? This will be just for him and Hob. It will be just theirs.

Six months later, Hob carries Dream over the threshold of their new townhome like they’ve just gotten married, and Dream laughs in delight. He cannot remember the last time he’d been so happy.

When Hob lets him down in their new, still empty living room, Dream takes a deep breath and closes his eyes, letting the emotional weight of what they’ve done wash over him.

This home is theirs. Both their names are on the mortgage, a contract that binds them closer than marriage does, at least in Hob’s opinion. This home hadn’t been in their initial plan, they had only seen it in passing while looking at another flat in the same neighborhood, but it had been love at first sight for both of them.

It had also, admittedly, been a little bit outside of their budget. But Hob was expecting a promotion, and Dream’s gallery opening had plenty of buzz surrounding it. Things would work themselves out. He knew they would.

They’re arguing again, and Dream doesn’t even remember what started it. They were fighting more and more lately; about chores, about things that needed to be fixed, about the ever growing pile of bills between them.

Hob had gotten the promotion he’d wanted, but it came with more work and time away than either of them expected. Dream’s gallery opening was well attended, but only a few of his paintings had been purchased outright. The gallery assured him this was normal, and he knew it to be true, as a debut artist he needed to build a reputation. But the disappointment stung nonetheless.

The house too, had been more work and more expense than they had expected. It seemed like something was always breaking, or needed to be replaced, and they could never agree on a chore schedule that did not make the other feel like they were doing more of the work.

Now they were arguing over what to have for dinner, a simple meal, an activity they used to both consider sacred between them. But Hob doesn’t want to cook, and Dream is tired of eating takeaway. Hob tells him Dream needs to learn to cook. Dream tells him that Hob is too picky to cook for.

“You know what? Forget it,” Hob says, throwing up his arms in surrender and turning away from him. “This isn’t worth it.”

Dream’s heart shatters when he hears those words.

Not worth it, not worth it, not worth it. Dream has heard those words a million times in a million different contexts, but it always, always, means the same thing.

Dream wasn’t worth it. Wasn’t worth the effort it took to put up with him, to be patient with him, to love him. Calliope had said he wasn’t worth all the fights and arguments. Cory had said their relationship wasn’t worth staying in London for when his dream job was in the US. Nada had said having to deal with his family wasn’t worth it. And now Hob had decided Dream wasn’t worth his time or his love either.

Before he knows it, Dream is running out of the room, out of their home, and into the pouring rain. He can’t hear anything over the pounding of his heart in his ears.

Not worth it. Not. Worth. It

He’s worthless, worthless, worthless.

Dream hadn’t even bothered putting on shoes, so it doesn’t surprise him when he slips on the wet cobblestones of the street and he falls.

What does surprise him is that he doesn’t hit the ground.

Because Hob is there. Holding him back, and gripping him like he’s afraid Dream will disappear if he doesn’t.

Hob had come after him. Had run after Dream in the pouring rain just to catch him.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Hob is crying into his shoulder as he pulls Dream to his chest. “I forgot that’s what you hate hearing the most, I didn’t mean it. Not like that. Never like that.”

Dream chokes out a sob of his own, then wriggles himself out of Hob’s grip so he can turn around and hug his lover back.

“I’m sorry too,” he says, pulling Hob into a desperate kiss. “I love you.”

“I love you too. I swear it Dream, I’ll never leave you alone,” Hob promises. “You’re absolutely worth fighting for, always.”

Dream doesn’t know what the future holds for them. But he knows, now, in this moment, soaked to his skin and freezing cold, that he and Hob can get through anything. Because they love each other. Because Hob will fight for Dream as much as Dream will fight for Hob. Because they’re not perfect people, but they are perfect for each other. And that is worth everything.

#dreamling #dream x hob #hob x morpheus #the sandman fanfic #seiya writes #seiya writes dreamling

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hannigramislife · 2 days

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"Oh, the abuse cycle in bsd–"

Yes, let's talk about the abuse cycle in Bsd. Let's talk about what people don't seem to mention, ever.

Mori. Dazai. Akutagawa. Kyouka.

Though nothing is certain about what the relationship between Mori and Dazai was really like, there is a clear difference between these relationships.

Mori is appreciative of Dazai. Much as he is scared of him, Mori would take Dazai back to the Mafia in a heartbeat. From the flashbacks, we could see that Dazai and Mori had relatively easy talks, Mori confided in him, was always honest, and 15 year old Dazai seemed to talk freely with him. The abuse is, far as we know, emotional manipulation on a great scale.

Akutagawa was probably violent with Kyouka, just as Dazai was with him, though I suppose at a lesser scale (i don't think he ever shot bullets at her, for example). One thing that we do notice, though, is that Akutagawa never talks down to her? He acknowledged her strength and gave her the same reason to live that he believed in himself. Then, he also acknowledges her growth, is actually happy for her happiness, and in Dead Apple, even suggests for her to kill him when he's at his weakest. There's also a lack of emotional dependence— unlike his own case, Akutagawa did not mold her to depend on his approval. And when she sees him, she has a less severe reaction than she did when she saw Mori, for example.

And then, you have Akutagawa and Dazai. And this is what really pisses me off. Because not only is Dazai both emotionally and physically abusive to Akutagawa, he continues to keep his hold on Akutagawa even after he has become a "good guy." He keeps Akutagawa tethered to him, manipulates him in dangerous situations Akutagawa has no business being in, and purposely plays into the boy's trauma bond to him to use him. All while giving everything to a random orphan he met on the streets that - objectively speaking - is no better than Akutagawa?

This is my personal view on their relationships, and I haven't read any light novels but Beast, so there might be information I'm missing.

But no amount of context can change the fact - and I mean fact - that Dazai had absolutely zero excuse to do what he did to Akutagawa. While in the Mafia or after it. Because the guy with an IQ of a billion, who was himself saved and shown kindness by another in his darkest times should have fucking known better.

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giamee · 2 days

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𝐂𝐈𝐆𝐀𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐒 𝐎𝐔𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐈𝐍𝐃𝐎𝐖!

╭─────────────────────── ( 🎐 )

even though you don't talk, they'll still find a way to listen

› 〉 📂 .ೃ | mute reader, jus some fluff really, bit on the short side

requested by @/anon

╰─➤ 💌 ₍₁₎ ok i should nawtttt have used this colour scheme im squinting like a rat at my screen tryna see what i'm saying. the title is 'cigarettes out the window' (shoutout tv girl) if u couldnt read it which i do not hold against u

ᯓ ᡣ𐭩 GEPARD.

it's simply in his nature to look out for others, to ensure that everyone is alright. and when he meets you, he's thrown for a loop a little. because you are fine.

the first time he sees you is in serval's workshop- you're just leaving, and something compels him to make sure that he speaks to you, even if it's for a few fleeting moments before you leave and he most likely never sees you again.

it's a simple question of how your day is, but you simply offer him a small smile before ducking past him, scurrying out of the door that he held open.

he's puzzled at first- maybe it's something to do with him? did you not want to talk to him? but then his sister explains that you're mute, and now he feels like a fool.

and thus begins his attempts to talk to you.

he writes you little notes to begin with. luckily for him, you're a regular at serval's shop, always seemingly having some device or another broken and in need of repairing. serval rolls her eyes at the pair of you- at gepard for being an idiot (you can still hear, you don't need notes), and at you for your attempts to run into her brother as often as possible (those machines weren't really broken).

despite this, it was somewhat amusing to watch the pair of you attempt to flirt with each other. and somewhat cute when your attempts worked.

you kept each and every one of gepard's notes to you, as redundant as they were. his handwriting was a little scruffy, and if you looked at them hard enough you could spot the little tremors where he tried to make the lettering neat.

a special treat was when he decided to add little doodles to them. it was anyone's guess as to what they were supposed to be- you were pretty sure that one of them was supposed to be you- and your heart warmed amidst the chicken scratch and stick figures.

you decide to write your own note back to him. in the top right corner is a little sketch of him, on a similar level to his own creations, that you hope he'll appreciate alongside the note.

you give it to him along with your best smile, mentally capturing the look of joy on gepard's fave at your little gift to him. you were gone by then, shyness overtaking your urge to stay, so you could only imagined his face when he realised that what you had written to him was a formal request to take him out on a date.

ᯓ ᡣ𐭩 DAN HENG.

for dan heng to open up to someone new, several criteria have to be met.

for starters, he had to be at least a little bit comfortable around you. receptive, but not too probing or overbearing. rational, but not judgmental. open, but not too much.

in many ways, he was like a cat. you had to let him come to you.

and luckily for you, you seemed to fulfil those criteria.

as one of the newest additions to the astral express, you were in some sort of in-between phase of being one of them and a stranger. you communicated in your own ways, but you found yourself withdrawing to your room. it was overwhelming, this new environment.

it was only natural that you felt more drawn to dan heng more than anyone else. he had similar qualities to you- more introverted, tended to keep to himself. and, as you later found out, you both had a tendency to burn the midnight oil.

it became almost routine to run into him when you're both up late, wandering the astral express for some peace of mind. brief encounters with little nods sent your direction gradually evolved into longer moments spent basking in each other's presence, mostly in silence. but not always.

you both had your reasons to be up late- on the nights where dan heng looked more frazzled, a certain look in his eye, is when you began to piece him together.

he'd lend you some information of his own volition occasionally, telling you about the nightmare he had, recurring or not. there was just this certain quality to you, a look in your eye that made him feel like you truly did listen to him.

and he wouldn't trade your late-night rendevous for the world.

𝜗𝜚 honkai star rail masterlist

#୨୧ gia.txt :: gepard #୨୧ gia.txt :: dan heng #hsr x reader #hsr fluff #honkai star rail fluff #honkai star rail x reader #hsr gepard x reader #gepard landau x reader #gepard x reader #gepard fluff #gepard landau fluff #hsr gepard fluff #hsr dan heng x reader #dan heng fluff #dan heng x reader #dan heng x reader fluff

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latenightdaydreams · 2 days

Note

Hi hi! Hope you don't mind that I have another request eheh... 🥲 I'd like to request smut with some build up before it, if you don't mind of course ^^; I've just been recently obsessed over those tropes of s/o(s) being apart for too long. And then thought of a reader who happens to be an intelligence officer working for KorTac. She and König aren't together yet per sé, more like have fallen for each other but never got to voice it out. Now, reader is chosen to carry out espionage against their enemy. However, it lasts for a year or two. Which is risky af. Anyway, those feelings they had for each other never left and they only grew within time. Plus they really miss each other hjshjs- And then when she finally comes back, cue the reunion. Cue the confession. Andddd cue whatever happens after that. Sorry if my request is more lengthier than before 😭 feel free to decline

So uh yes. That's basically it. Stay safe and take care of yourself 🫶 just gonna drop this gigantic special delivery package to this wonderful writer over here (you ofc) of... Oo what's this— BOOM. LOVE ✨💓💞💕💖✨

OMG this is such a sweet idea🥹 Never feel bad sending in a request! I love reading them and I love the challenge of bringing your idea to life! Thank you for all of the love you send my way, it is very appreciated and it makes my day to see your messages and comments! I hope you have a fantastic day and enjoy the story!

Reunion (fem)

MDNI🔞

Master List

>cw: fem/afab, p in v, oral

2.3k word count

You stand in your room packing your suitcase as König sat at your desk chair. His eyes slowly going up and down your body, taking in how beautiful you look doing something so mundane. His mind flushed with thoughts of you, your mission, and his feelings. He has so much to say, but now isn’t the right time.

“Are you nervous Maus?” König bounces his foot nervously.

“I- no.” You lie. “It will be easy.”

“You’re definitely the best person for the job.”

You turn and smile at him. You want to say how much you’re going to miss him while you’re away. You’re aware that this mission will be long, maybe a year. It hurts your heart to think he might meet someone new while you’re away. What if you come back and he has a whole new life? A lot can change in that amount of time. Your heart sinks, but you continue to fake a smile for him.

You turn and face him. König looks up to meet your gaze, his pale blue eyes look sad behind his mask. The mask hiding the frown on his lips. He stands and walks to you, wrapping his arms around you in a tight hug.

“I’m going to miss you Maus,” he whispers as he rests his head on top of yours.

“I’ll miss you too.” You wrap your arms around him and hug him back. “Don’t forget about me.” You say with a giggle in your voice to hide the pain in that statement.

Your giggle doesn’t work because König notices. His arms tightening around you, “I could never forget you, y/n.”

König has the overwhelming want to lean down and kiss your soft lips, but he can’t. You two are just friends. Military code forcing him to shove his feelings for you aside to not cause any issues. Yet, underneath his uniform, he is just a man in love; desperate for a chance to touch you in a more intimate way and express his love for you. He settles for friendly hugs and breathing in your scent instead.

He pulls away from the hug and looks down at you. Your beautiful eyes looking back at him. His heart pounds in his chest, he is already starting to miss you and it hurts.

“I’ll carry your bag to the garage for you.” He says closing your suitcase and picking it up.

“Thank you, Kö.”

The last time you two see each other you spend 20 minutes hugging, breathing each other in. Words hanging on the tips of both your tongues, yet no one brave enough to cross that line. Both of your hearts break as you know this could be your last time together. All you can do is hope that life brings you both back together.

The mission went on longer than expected. Two years and seven months, König has been counting the days; marking off the calendar waiting for the day you finally return. The only sign that you’re alive is the intel that KorTac occasionally gets from you, but it’s been three months since the last message. He is use to a life of solitude, but without you he feels a new level of loneliness.

He walks past your room every day before returning to his own. Your room remains vacant, everything left exactly how you left it. Every night he looks at a photo of you he has tucked under his pillow, gently kissing it hoping you’ll return to him soon.

It was another day of mundane tasks and paper work for König. He sat at his desk with your file pulled up on his screen, your photo attached. He marks off another day from the calendar, another day without you. Not even intel from you.

Around 12pm, König sits with his mask off, eating his lunch he packed for himself. He wonders where you are and if you’re safe. What if you’ve been captured and murdered or worse, fallen in love and decided to run off with the enemy. Being alone with his own thoughts is torture.

Just then there is a knock at his door. He rolls his eyes and lets out a sigh. He was in the middle of eating. Putting his sandwich down, he picks up a napkin and cleans his mouth before pulling his mask down over his face. Again, a knock.

“Alright, come in.” König says as he straightens himself out. He minimizes your file that he has still pulled up on the computer screen.

The door opens and closes, he looks up to see…you.

König’s jaw drops and he just sits there staring at you for a while, as if he can’t believe that you’re real and standing in front of him. You look just as beautiful as you did the day you left. Nothing has changed other than your hair being longer now, and it suits you.

You stand there quietly waiting for him to say something, do something. He just sits there looking at you in complete shock.

“Hey Kö,” you break the silence as you take a few steps closer.

Hearing the nickname, Kö, makes his heart flutter; only you and his mother have ever called him that. You’re really here. He isn’t hallucinating. It’s you. Quickly he stands to his feet and walks towards you, pulling you into a tight embrace. He takes a deep breath, breathing you in. He’s missed your scent so much these last few years, he had forgotten what you even smelled like. Forgotten just how perfect your warmth feels against his body.

Your arms quickly wrap around him, you’ve been dreaming of this moment for so long. Being away from König was harder than you thought it would be. Especially for almost three years, you weren’t sure if you’d be returning to the same man. Yet here he was. Your König. He waited for you.

König pulls away from the hug and moves his hands to grasp you face and turn your face so you can look into his eyes. His eyes glossy, tears threatening to fall. He doesn’t speak as he just looks at your face, taking in your beauty. He hasn’t seen you in the flesh for so long, it’s like he is seeing you again for the first time. His beautiful love.

Without thinking, König pulls his mask off; revealing his face to you for the first time ever. He leans down and gently presses his lips against yours; slowly out of fear of rejection, yet once your lips touch, you don’t pull back or turn away. You kiss back with even more passion, making König melt inside. He grips your face a little tighter as he begins to kiss you harder, matching your passion.

Breaking away, he rests his head on yours, tears now falling down both of your faces.

“I was scared I would never see you again.” His voice breaks as he speaks to you.

“I know,” your breathing shutters.

He pulls away slightly as you look up at his face. You take in all of his features that have been hidden all these years of friendship. He’s…beautiful. You’ve thought of what he might be hiding all this time, it’s just scars. They only add to how attractive you see him.

“Kö, I’m in love with you.” The words flow out of your mouth as if it’s word vomit.

Your heart begins to pick up and you swallow hard, waiting for his response. Your hand reaching out to wipe tears away from his eyes as they fall.

“I’m in love with you too, y/n. I always have been.” His voice cracks.

He leans down and his lips meet yours again, his tongue licking your lips as they part to accept him. He lets out a soft moan as he tastes you for the first time. He’s wanted this for a long time, since the day you stayed behind with him after a failed mission. That was the day he fell in love with you.

His hands drop down to your waist as he begins to push up the hem of your shirt, his warm hands caressing your soft skin. You don’t stop him; your body has always craved him. You’re his now, in this moment, and forever. Slowly pulling away from your lips, his eyes drop down your body.

“Is this okay?” He seeks you consent before continuing. His hands continue to caress your waist, moving up slowly.

You nod your head, closing your eyes as his lips come back to meet yours. You continue to make out as his hands move up your body. He begins to pull you shirt up, breaking the kiss to take your shirt fully off. He looks down at your breasts cupped in your bra. He brings you closer to him as he can wrap his arms around you and unhook your bra. You let the bra drop from your body.

König quickly drops to his knees, his lips finding your breasts and kissing all over, his lips grazing over your nipples giving you chills. His hands fumble with the button of your pants as he undoes it. Pulling down your zipper, he looks up at you. His hands wrap around the top of your pants and pull them down with your underwear.

His eyes look at the soft bush between your legs before he kisses your stomach and hips. You lean back against the wall and he lifts one of your legs over his shoulder. Slowly he kisses down your thigh that’s resting on him. He finally begins to kiss the soft hair covering your sacred area. He takes a deep breath, taking in your scent completely. He has always wanted to be graced with the privilege of giving you pleasure, and here he is finally.

He sticks his tongue out and licks from the bottom to the top, his tongue making small circles over your clit. He can’t believe just how sweet you taste. The small moans leaving your lips mixed with the smell of your arousal making his cock rock hard in his cargos. He begins to suck lightly on your clit, flicking his tongue over it as he does. Your legs begin to tremble and jerk.

You look down at him as he eats you out, your fingers gently combing through his blonde hair. You could have never imagined that he would be this good as he begins to focus in on your clit. Legs shaking you moan out, calling his name. You feel a rush, a build up of pleasure.

Knowing that you’re about to cum, König keeps his rhythm. You push his face into your cunt, forcing him to only breathe in your sweet natural musk. His face covered in your arousal; he can’t take it anymore.

He moves your leg off of him gently as he stands up. He begins to quickly undo his belt and take his pants off. He pulls his shirt off, revealing his Greek god like body to you. You just look at him, in awe. The same way he looks at you.

You both stand there looking at each other’s bare bodies. König just can’t get enough of you. He walks closer to you and scoops you up in his arms. He walks to his desk chair with you. He sits slouched in the chair as you sit on his lap, your wet pussy rubbing against his erection. You lean in and kiss his lips as he moans softly feeling a tease of what your warmth will be like.

With no regard for safe sex, you lean forward, reaching down and grabbing his cock to guide it into your pussy. Once the tip squeezes in you both let out a harmonious moan. Your eyes studying his face as he is focused on watching you stretch around his cock.

Your hands on his shoulders for balance, you continue to sit down until König bottoms out inside of you. His hands squeezing the supple flesh of your thighs as he submits to you and lets you take control of your shared pleasure. Your tight cunt squeezing around him, breasts bouncing in his face as you move over him. His muscles flex as he assists you in your movements.

“Oh Scheiße, Maus. You feel so fucking good.” He moans out as his head falls back against the back of the chair; eyes closed. He has never felt this level of pleasure before with another partner. The sound of your wet cunt filling the space between your shared moans and panting.

“Kö,” you whimper out as your hands move to his chest, fingers digging deeply into his skin.

König opens his eyes and looks down at your cunt eagerly trying to milk him. A creamy white ring circling the base of his cock, and he can smell the sex in the air. He can’t hold on anymore. He wraps his arms around your abdomen and holds you close to him while he begins to quickly thrust up into you, his balls slapping against your ass. You begin to moan out loudly, definitely loud enough to be heard from the hallway, but he couldn’t care less.

“I-I’m going to- ah,” König couldn’t even speak as he begins to sweat from his rapid movements. His hands grasping your ass as he begins to roughly push you down on his cock. You can feel him throbbing deep inside of you as he cums. His cheeks turning slightly red from embracement of not lasting longer.

Your lips meet his with desperation as you both kiss. His hands still gripping you tightly as you rest on him, as if you might leave again if he lets go. Breaking the kiss you both look into each other’s eyes. One of his hands leaving your body and moving up to caress your face gently.

“Are you mine?” König sounding so submissive and gentle, a side no one ever sees of him.

“Of course.”

#konig #konig x y/n #konig cod #konig x reader #könig #könig x reader #konig smut #könig smut #könig cod #könig mw2 #konig x reader smut #cod konig #könig call of duty #könig x reader smut #könig x y/n #könig x you #smut

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downbadspanishlad · 2 days

Text

WARNING: Some of the following content may be slightly triggering due to discussion of abuse and trauma. Please don't read further if reading about that stuff could possibly hurt you! You're valid!

Masculinity in Baldur's Gate 3:

As a trans guy who didn't have with friendly male rolemodels growing up, the male companion characters in Baldur's Gate 3 mean so much to me.

While Astarion is clearly my favorite, I have a huge amount of love and appreciation for all the companion characters (male and female). But it's the several types of masculinity the male companion characters have that offer something for male and/or masculine folks like me to aspire to (in some way or another).

Disclaimer: I've unfortunately not had the time to interact much with Minsc, therefore I won't be including him in this post, but he seems like a lovely and cool dude overall, so please don't take his absence as a sign of me not liking him.

Astarion:

Astarion's interest in murder/violence and being mean are definitely not something to aspire to, but I do understand why he does what he does. His trauma is no excuse for his actions, but they do explain a lot.

I really like Astarion mainly due to how he is as a masculine character and how he's portrayed as an explicitly queer, slightly effeminate man with trauma.

In terms of being "explicitly queer," I mean this clip from this video:

As someone who doesn't neatly fit into the stereotype of being a trans man, let alone the expectations of what it means to be a "real man," Astarion's effeminate nature is something I deeply appreciate.

(Note: That's not me trying to insinuate that trans guys me aren't "real men." It's solely about commenting on how men who are gender non-conforming in any way are told they're 'not real men').

He's very theatrical in his demeanor, and it's one of the things I love most about him. He's hilarious, he's fun, and he's able to be the way he is without being shamed and emasculated for it. I grew up + live in an area where being as theatrical and fun as Astarion is something that can get you shamed or even physically hurt for not being "man enough" in that way.

As someone who exists somewhere on the bi/pan spectrum, I've loved seeing how the ladies of the BG3 fandom are totally chill with Astarion being pansexual. As a man with the capacity to find people of all genders (including women) attractive, I've often felt very insecure in my masculinity for being queer and "not masculine enough."

Guys like me usually get dismissed as being "only gay." That our sexuality isn't a real or valid thing, and that we're "lesser" than straight men because of our ability to find love with people regardless of their gender. Being feminine, in any capacity, as a man is a very terrifying thing due to the shame and violence we can experience for daring to be ourselves.

And I don't want to equate my trauma with anything Astarion has been through (especially as someone who isn't a survivor of sexual violence), but I do find a lot of comfort in how Astarion's trauma is dealt with in his story.

So long as you (the player) treat him with the respect and dignity he deserves, Astarion is never shamed or made to feel "less than" for his trauma. The story of his trauma is treated with proper respect and care, and I absolutely love that.

He makes me feel less alone and weird for how my own experience with abuse has left me with inner demons that I've yet to overcome. Like him, I experience night terrors due to my trauma. It's a very scary thing to deal with. And as a man, it makes me feel very small, ashamed, and pathetic. But seeing Astarion go through it and not having that be something he's shamed for is something I deeply appreciate. I know he's fictional, but seeing a character as cool as him going through that too makes me feel less alone and weird for it.

Wyll:

Wyll is a close second favorite character of mine. He's just an awesome, epic, badass guy! He's the kind of man I aspire to be. He does everything he can to help others, he cares deeply about doing what's right, he's a huge nerd/dork, and he's got the biggest heart amongst the companion characters (which says a lot in my opinion since he's got Karlach and Halsin as stiff competition for that category). He's very cool and lovely, and I really hate seeing how underappreciated he is as a character.

I absolutely love the meme of people saying that Wyll was the only origin character to dust himself off and head back to doing what he was doing before to get kidnapped and infected by the mindflayers. Man is too selfless and rad to take a break from helping the tiefling children how to fight.

I do want to give credit for this meme to this cool dude called Azeem (aka blackpurist).

As well as this post here on Tumblr.

Gale:

I'll admit, I didn’t really care for Gale at first. But the more I got to know him, the more I realized that this dude is (most certainly) on the spectrum. That's not a canon thing, but I absolutely believe that he is. Not a bad thing either (and I say that as someone who is also autistic). Honestly, realizing that many of his traits are autistic recontextualized certain things about him and helped me like him way more.

I really appreciate how straightforward Gale is as a communicator. The dude puts everything out in the open, for better or worse. He has no ulterior motives and does his best to make his intentions very clear. Love him or hate him, Gale is a dude you're not afraid of (unless you're a bad guy or something).

I also appreciate how passionate the man is about the stuff he's dedicated his life to (magic, which is most certainly his special interest). Gale is also very kind and open-minded, a good example of this being what he has to say about Astarion's vampirism. Gale's not my favorite guy, but he's an absolutely chill dude, and I'd totally be his friend if he were real.

Halsin:

So long as you save him and the Emerald Grove, Halsin is totally chill with you from the first moment you meet him. He's very kind, upfront, and non-judgemental, which is pretty cool.

I also really appreciate how much he cares about consent. Halsin is polyamorous, and if he expresses romantic interest in the player character and the player character happens to already be in a relationship, he makes sure to not pursue anything without the expressed consent of both the player character and their partner.

I know caring about consent is a bare minimum thing to do, but unfortunately there are still a lot of people irl who don't care about it which is why I greatly appreciate how Halsin (and also BG3 as a game) treats consent as an essential, inherent part of romantic and sexual relationships. Very cool, indeed!! 😎💖🌟💫

#baldurs gate 3 #bg3 #halsin #wyll ravengard #astarion #gale dekarios #masculinity #trauma #gender shit #astarion bg3 #wyll bg3 #halsin bg3 #gale bg3

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sirianasims · 2 days

Text

Chapter 43.5

Idiot.

The voice in my head is persistent. It’s been over two months but it’s not letting up.

I try to focus on the lines, struggling to keep the faint remnants of my Tartosan accent from creeping into Llama Man’s commanding voice. It’s always more difficult just after I’ve been home.

Idiot.

Images from the last year keep flashing by, little details seared into my brain. Her green eyes. Her smile. The delicate birthmarks artfully strewn across her face. I used to insist on kissing each of them goodbye before I left and it always made her laugh.

It was the best sound in the world.

Idiot.

The more recent images are a different story. Her tears. The look of shock and confusion in her eyes. She didn’t understand, of course, and some days I’m not sure I do either. Am I an idiot for leaving her? Or for letting myself fall in love with her in the first place?

Both?

“Alright, Paul, that was good, but let’s do an extra take just to be sure.”

I nod at the sound technician and start over.

“I’ve sent the files off to Mike. Personally, I don’t think he’ll demand another round, the last two takes were flawless.”

“Thanks. I’m sorry for dragging you in for pick-ups again, I’ve been feeling a bit off lately.”

“Hey, it’s a pay check. And I’m going to need it for the move. We want to get settled into the new house before my son’s wedding so we’re already packing.”

“Did you find a job in Henford yet?”

“Not yet, but my wife got an offer. We’ll make it work. My kid is the only family I have left, so if he moves abroad, we follow. And I never liked staying in one place for too long anyway, I get restless.”

“Well, best of luck over there, Charles. The new sound tech will have some big shoes to fill.”

“Thanks, Paul. It’s been a pleasure working with you.”

Charles leaves, and I turn on the coffee machine.

I’ve just finished pouring two mugs when Lee arrives.

“Oh, you must have read my mind, love, I am positively dying for a coffee right now.”

“When are you not?”

Lee settles onto the sofa with a sigh.

“It’s been one of those weeks, deadlines put such a damper on my creativity. But how was Tartosa? Did you have a nice birthday?”

“It was fine. I didn’t feel like making it a huge thing, but my mother had arranged a family dinner at the vineyard.”

“Ah, just an intimate and completely non-threatening gathering with fifteen to twenty people, then.”

I lean back against the counter and take a long sip of the coffee to avoid responding. It’s still too hot, and I grimace as the liquid burns my mouth. Idiot.

Lee isn’t so easily deterred, though.

“So, that’s it? You’re just never going to see her again?”

“Lee, first of all, she blocked me. On my birthday, no less. So I’m going to take that as a big fat hint and respect her wishes. Second, I broke up with her because it was a dead end. She’s not going to settle down for another decade, and when she does, she’s not going to pick some fifty year old relic.”

Lee raises an eyebrow.

“I beg your pardon?”

“Yeah, I said it. Sorry to break it to you, Lee, but you’re old. Ancient. Practically dust.”

“I’m choosing to ignore your hurtful remarks because you’re clearly heartbroken and out of your mind with grief.”

I snort. “Sorry. I’m fine, really, I’m just annoyed at myself.”

“For irrationally breaking up with the love of your life or for stubbornly refusing to reconsider?”

“For being an idiot in general, I guess. I knew it was a bad idea. I even told her as much the first time I met her. But then I just had to go back and talk to her again like a complete dumbass and she practically invited herself back to my hotel. How could I say no to that?”

Lee chuckles. “Oh, but you couldn’t, of course you couldn’t. I mean, she’s not exactly my type, but I can still appreciate the aesthetics, as it were.”

“Right? And that might even have been fine if it never went any further, but I got carried away and kept seeing her even though everyone could tell it was going to end badly. We’re both better off like this, I’ll get over it.”

Lee just looks at me over the rim of his glasses.

“Are you sure? I may be a dusty old relic but as far as I’m aware, the only way you could possibly know that she blocked you is if you spent your birthday trying to look her up.”

“Thanks, detective. It was a moment of weakness, you don’t need to rub it in my face.”

“I’m not trying to rub anything in your face, love, I know it’s not your thing. But you were clearly serious about her if you were planning to bring her to Tartosa. And just because the poor girl understandably got slightly intimidated, you drop her like a newborn giraffe. Why not give her some more time?”

“I didn’t… Lee, it was the sensible thing to do! I just turned forty, I can’t just spend years waiting for her to make up her mind and hope for the best.”

“I don’t share your fetish for monogamy, but I believe all relationships are like that, you can never be certain. But you’ve always been stubborn so I’ll just give you the usual break-up advice. Get a haircut, hit the gym, put yourself back out there. Will you at least see my stylist?”

“Never. I am not brave enough to let Jessica Clemons near my wardrobe.”

beginning / previous / next

#duchellilegacy #duchellichapters #duchelligen5 #paul romeo #charlie ward #lee thompson #oh hi charlie #bye charlie?#two protagonists? in this economy?#it's more likely than you think

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rosewaterandivy · 21 hours

Text

rack 'em up!

Summary: in hustling, ya gotta keep the score real simple. count your money at the end of the game, and walk away.

Pairing: s.h. x fem! reader

WC: 1.6k

Warnings: NSFW 18+, drinking, cursing, & pool shark steve

A/N: A continuation of our Modern Love series featuring Steve 🥰 Reblogs, likes & feedback are appreciated - reposting is not. Enjoy! 💜

The first time you’d met Steve Harrington, you hadn’t been yourself. It was Halloween night and one of your best friends had somehow convinced you to go out with her to a local bar. You were in your Audrey Horne finest — pink sweater, plaid skirt, Mary Janes and all — while your bestie had settled for the Log Lady, classic Twin Peaks.

Thighs sticking to the cracked vinyl seat, you nursed a beer only half-listening to your friend’s bitching about her grad school class. Sitting at the bar, you felt exposed. And sure, she was there and had been supportive throughout this ordeal. But still — it was the first time you’d been out since the break-up.

Shaking your head, you tried to rid yourself of the incessant thoughts which were proving less than helpful. She quickly noticed your discomfort, she worried her lips and tried to get the bartender’s attention. “We can go if it’s too much babe,” she murmurs softly, “Or at least head up to Paschal’s where it won’t be as crowded.”

“No, this is fine,” you insist, taking a sip from your beer, condensation gathering on the glass. “I’m just getting used to it is all.”

She gives you a small smile, “Okay, but let me know when you want to bounce.”

The bar fills up rather quickly from there. The breaking of racks sounds out from the pool tables in loud cracks, quickly followed by loud whoops and hollers. The pair of you were occasionally jostled by patrons opening their tabs and ordering food or drinks. Coming to the end of your beer, you nod to her and she signals for the check.

Someone slides in behind you, sending your pint glass tumbling to the bar top the remnants of lukewarm beer readily making its way toward your lap. You quickly stand to avoid the spill and back up.

Large, warm hands lightly grasp your arms, causing you to jump, “Oh shit,” he says, voice apologetic, “That was my bad, I’m so sorry!”

Turning in the stranger’s grasp, you catch Liz’s wide-eyed gaze, “No harm, no foul,” you insist, “Quick reflexes and all.”

The sight of him makes you want to drop dead. A furrow in his brow and lip worried between his teeth — too handsome for his own good.

“Let me make it up to you.” His thumbs graze over the fabric of your sweater as you nod. He turns to the bartender and leans over the bar top to say, “Hey man, can I get two IPAs, a stout, and whatever else the lady would like?”

He glances back to you, waiting.

“She had a saison!” Your friend helpfully pipes up from behind you.

“Thanks,” he smiles at her, “Can I get you anything?”

She flushes under his attention and places her order before pulling you to the side out of earshot. Her eyes gleam in mischief when she says, “Ooh girl, he is fine.”

You can’t argue, he is objectively attractive. All coiffed hair and tan limbs, definitely out of your league. Involuntarily, you curl in on yourself.

“Hey,” she scolds, “Don’t do that.”

As if she could read your thoughts.

“Yeah, under Harrington man. Thanks!”

Schooling your expression into a semblance of cool, you smile when he leans back hands you the drink, your fingers brushing briefly.

“I am really sorry about that, by the way.” He says, eyes clouding over with worry. “Hope it didn’t ruin your night.”

“Not at all,” you say after taking a sip, “We were about to head out anyway.”

She elbows you something fierce and narrows her eyes.

“What she means to say, is that we were about to head upstairs.”

The stranger nods, “That’s cool.”

It’s only then that you notice the three other beers in his hands in a triangle formation, condensation growing steadily on each glass. You meet his gaze, “D’you need help with those?”

When he smiles, it’s slow and saccharine. “Don’t worry about it, honey.” He nods toward the pool tables, “But you can come along, if you’d like?”

Your best friend all but yanks your arm out as he walks toward a group of people surrounding the pool table. He hands the respective drinks to the man and woman arguing over stripes and solids.

“I broke, so I get to call Rob!” The man with long hair pulled up into a bun insists. “It’s like, common courtesy.”

The woman, Rob, takes a brief sip of her beer, top lip coming away covered in foam. “But polite society dictates that you should offer the choice to me, Eddie.”

Eddie rolls his eyes before noticing the new additions to the group. “Harrington,” he says with a smile, “Care to introduce us?”

The man’s eyebrows raise, “Oh, um,” he begins before faltering. “This is—“

Your bestie swiftly butts in to introduce you both. “Nearly ruined her night,” she jokes, “Beer stained skirt is a sure-fire ticket home.”

Eddie laughs along with her and turns back to the game of pool. “Whaddya think then?” His eyes meet yours, “Solids or stripes?”

Robin scoffs indignantly and chalks her pool cue.

His attention catches you off-guard, “Oh, um,” you echo Harrington, “Stipes, I guess?”

Eddie smiles and leans down to take his shot, “Excellent choice.” He sinks two stripes in the corner pocket and rises lazily to sip his beer.

Your friend, meanwhile, made herself scarce, socializing with Rob across the pool table. Harrington, first name unknown, eyed the game briefly.

“Take over for me?”

He glances across the table and takes the outstretched cue. “Sure thing Rob.” He brushes past you with a cautionary hand to the small of your back, “Sorry.”

Your friend and Robin continue their conversation at a nearby high-top table, while Harrington lines up his shot. Left alone with your beer, Eddie makes his way to your side. “This game is about to become distinctly unfair,” he grouses.

“How so?”

“Steve’s a pool shark,” he shrugs, “Good thing Rob and I didn’t bet on this game, he’d take me to the cleaners.”

You laugh at that, “Well, considering that she abandoned the game, I think that makes any bets null and void.”

“Maybe so.”

You sip your beer, conversation with Eddie coming easily. “I could give him a run for his money,” You say off-handedly, “If you wanted to make it interesting.”

The cue ball cracks against the remnants form the rack, two solids falling into the side pocket. Eddie gives you a wicked smile, “That so, sweetheart?” He chuckles and takes a drink, “Bit of a hustler yourself?”

You shrug casually, “Had a shit dad,” you supply, “Learned a thing or two in the bars he frequented.”

“Fair enough,” he says before turning to Steve, “Harrington!”

Steve stops his perusal of the pool table. Eddie chalks up the cue and passes it to you. “Care to make this game a little more interesting?”

Bets are taken — 3 to 1 with odds in your favor; you had graciously elected to abstain from betting. Unfortunately, the same could not be said for your best friend.

(“Oh my God, this is the greatest,” she crows, “The last time she played, she made a dude cry.”)

Steve, it had to be said, was indeed a shark; the game was evenly matched. Before long, a group had gathered around you to watch. Eddie kept the drinks coming while Robin insisted you both eat something.

Steve lined up to take his turn; it was a long shot, “Eight ball, left corner pocket.”

As he leans over, his shirt rode up slightly along his back revealing tan skin and toned muscles. You feel yourself begin to get hot under the collar. Eddie thrusts a cold can of beer into your palm, “Steve, make yourself decent, for fuck’s sake.”

He blushes at that, shot falling just shy of his call. The eight ball rolling to a stop on the precipice of the pocket. You let out a low whistle, holding the can against your forehead for relief.

“Wouldn’t be taking it easy on the lady, would you Harrington?”

Hazel eyes meet yours for a brief moment. He winks at you as you open the can to take a sip. “Not at all, Ed.”

You sip slowly, the cool beer alleviating your parched throat. Swallowing, you wipe a hand across your mouth and set the can aside. “That’s a shame,” you say approaching the table with a sway in your hips. “Get ready to pay up, pretty boy.”

Eddie cackles at that, Robin and your bestie howling in laughter. The patrons watching the game unfold let out whoops and whistles. It would be easy enough to simply tap the eight ball in the corner pocket, ending the game handedly.

You instead opt to ricochet the cue ball along the sideboards with enough force to propel it into the corner pocket with an audible crack. A wave of cheers erupts around you as Steve’s head dramatically drops in defeat. Eddie, Robin, and your friend bumrush and crowd you against the pool table.

“To the victor, go the spoils!” Robin hollers, turning you toward Steve.

You extend your hand, palm outstretched awaiting the payout. “Cough it up, pretty boy.”

With a huff, he digs his wallet from his back pocket and counts out the twenties. His fingers are warm against yours, you give him a small smile. “No hard feelings?”

He smiles in return, “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

Clasping the bills in your hand, you eye him up and down. Insecurity and shyness from earlier in the night alleviated from the progression of beers over the evening. “Tell you what,” you say, scrambling for a pen and paper, “If you ever feel like getting your ass handed to you again,” you jot down your number, “I’m available.”

He takes the scrap of paper from you with a slow smile, “Good to know.”

And if someone airdrops you a new contact before you leave, then so much the better.

Pretty Boy Steve: soooo, rematch?

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington fanfic #Spotify

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scoonsalicious · 2 days

Text

Unwanted: Chapter 25, Unprotected - Pt. 3

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Fem!Reader

Warnings: (For this part only; see Story Masterlist for general Warnings) Language,

WARNING: THIS PART HAS A MAJOR THEME THAT SHOULD HAVE A WARNING, BUT I DO NOT WANT TO SPOIL THE PLOT. THEREFORE, IF THERE IS SOMETHING YOU FEAR YOU MAY NOT BE ABLE TO HANDLE, *PLEASE* DM ME FOR THE WARNING BEFORE READING!

Word Count: 1.7k

Previously On...: Uh... something went horribly wrong.

A/N: BUCKY IS BACK, and just in time <3

NOTE! The tag list is a fickle bitch, so I'm not really going to be dealing with it anymore. If you want to be notified when new story parts drop, please follow @scoonsaliciousupdates

Banner By: The absolutely amazing @mrsbuckybarnes1917!

Thank you to all those who have been reading; if you like what you've read, likes, comments, and reblogs give me life, and I truly appreciate them, and you!

Tumblr will not let me directly tag the following: @marcswife21 @erelierraceala @jupiter-107 @doublejeon @hiqhkey @unaxv @brookeleclerc

You weren’t sure what woke you up– the incessant beeping or the dull ache between your legs.

“Ugh, Sam, turn off your fucking alarm clock,” you muttered, pulling your blanket above your head. When had the apartment lights gotten so hideously bright? “Sam’s not here, doll. ‘Fraid it’s just me.”

Your eyes shot open at the sound of his voice, and you slowly pulled the blanket down from your face. You were lying on a bed in the middle of a hospital suite, and Bucky Barnes was sitting in an armchair in the corner. He looked haggard, as if he hadn’t done anything but worry and fret since arriving.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” you asked him, fighting to keep your voice steady. You’d hoped time would have helped lessen the pain you felt at the sight of him, but no– he still tore at your heart.

“You never changed your emergency contact,” he said, getting up from his chair to sit at the edge of your bed. Lovely. You were going to have to re-traumatize yourself because you hadn’t been assed to update fucking paperwork.

You rubbed your eyes with your hands. “What happened?” you asked.

“I was about to ask you the same thing,” Bucky said. He reached for you but you, but you pulled away, leaving him to frown at the space where your hand had been. “All they would tell me was that your distress beacon was activated, and when SHIELD operatives responded to your safehouse, they found you passed out in a pool of blood. They had you in surgery when I got here.”

“Surgery?” You began patting your body, searching for bandages or stitches, some sign of an incision, but you found nothing. “I don’t feel like I had surgery.”

Bucky shrugged. “That’s all they told me. Since I’m technically not family, they wouldn’t say anything more.” You scoffed. He was a lot less than ‘technically not family’.

“Well, I’m not dead,” you said dismissively, “so no reason for you to stay.” You shooed him away with a flap of your wrists. “Go on home now.”

Bucky snorted. “All laid up in the hospital and still, you got jokes,” he said. “I’m not going anywhere. Sam called Steve on his way to the airport, told him what went down with A.J., so looks like you’re in need of a new mission partner.” The smirk behind his eyes was enough to make you sneer.

“No,” you said, crossing your arms, and you were sure you looked very intimidating in your hospital gown with an IV sticking out of your hand. “I’m good, thanks. Don’t need any help, especially not yours.”

Bucky rolled his eyes at you. “Always so stubborn,” he chided. “Doesn’t matter what you want, doll. Captain’s orders; I’m here to stay, at least until Sam gets back.”

Fucking wonderful. As if you didn’t have enough to worry about, with girls getting murdered, Hydra funding the Wiggle Room, you randomly bleeding out and collapsing, and poor A.J.’s condition still unknown. Maybe there was something so seriously wrong with you, they’d make you go back to the Tower to recover and Bucky would be forced to stay down here, alone. God, was that actually what you were hoping for, now? Your life had indeed gone to shit.

There was a soft knock on your door and a man in a white doctor’s coat and glasses entered, carrying a clipboard.

“Ms. (Y/L/N)?” he asked. When you nodded, he continued: “I’m Dr. Carson; I’ve been attending to you during your stay with us. I’m glad to see you awake. How are you feeling?”

You barked out a humorous laugh. “Like I’ve been thoroughly fucked by a cactus, Doc. Care to explain what the hell happened to me?”

Bucky suppressed a snort as the doctor blushed and averted his gaze. “Yes, well, it’s quite normal to experience some mild discomfort following a D&C,” he began.

You sat up straighter, positive you had misheard him. “I’m sorry,” you interrupted, “a fucking what now?” He couldn’t have said what you thought you heard him say.

Dr. Carson coughed. “A Dilation and Curettage,” he explained. “It’s a procedure to–”

“Oh, I know what it’s fucking is,” you said, raising your voice. “What I don’t understand is why I would even need one in the first place!” Except you did. There was only one reason, and it made everything make perfect sense– the vomiting, the fatigue, all of it.

Before the doctor could answer you, Bucky spoke up: “Uh, I don’t know what it is. One of you care to explain to me what the hell all this means?”

“It’s none of your fucking business, Barnes,” you grumbled, just as the doctor spoke over you:

“It’s a surgical procedure that requires dilation of the cervix and the removal of tissue from the uterus,” he said. “In this case, that would be necrotic fetal tissue.”

Jesus fucking Christ.

“Um, okay,” Bucky said as he considered the doctor’s words. You watched as the realization came over his face. “Holy shit. Fetal tissue? Like… like a baby?”

Dr. Carson nodded slowly. “Yes.” He turned back to face you. “I’m very sorry for your loss, Ms. (Y/L/N), but it appears that you’ve experienced what we call a spontaneous miscarriage. Near as we can figure, you were about sixteen weeks along.”

You brought both hands to your temples. Was this real life?

“Were you not aware you were pregnant?” the doctor asked, taking in the look of complete shock on your face. “When was the date of your last period?”

Before you could control yourself, you began laughing with the absolute absurdity of the entire situation. “I’ve been slightly preoccupied,” you managed to get out. “Between the baby’s father” you thumbed at Bucky, “cheating on me with my greatest enemy, working undercover to save a bunch of women from sex trafficking and now solving a murder, too, I guess, so forgive me if I haven’t really been keeping track.”

The look Dr. Carson gave you then was a mixture of concern and alarm, and you were fairly confident he was this close to having you held for a mandatory psych eval. Good; you could benefit from a vacation.

“Could, you, uh,” Bucky cleared his throat, “give us a moment alone, please, doctor? I’m sure Pock– I mean (Y/N) needs a minute to collect herself, to process.”

“Yes, of course,” Dr. Carson said, seeming relieved that one of you appeared sane, at least. “I’ll send a nurse over in a little while to check your vitals, and we can see about getting you discharged.”

Bucky nodded and offered the doctor his thanks on your behalf, because you were still laughing. Dr. Carson left the room, his haste evident.

“Pocket,” Bucky said, trying to get your attention, but you ignored him. “Pocket,” he tried again, this time grabbing both your shoulders in his hands and gently shaking them. “Hey, get yourself together, come on!”

Your laughter tapered away and you wiped a tear away from your eye. “Oh my god,” you exhaled. “I’m sorry, but this is just… I’ve been running around pregnant for four fucking months? Come on! That’s, like, an entire third of a year! You gotta admit, that’s fucking insane!”

Bucky studied you. “You really didn’t know?”

You snorted. “Of course not! If I knew, I wouldn’t be in this situation to begin with, because I would have taken care of it the second I found out.”

A frown took over Bucky’s face. “What do you mean, ‘take care of it’?” he asked.

“I mean, like, I would have aborted it,” you said, as though the answer was so unbelievably obvious that it was stupid of him to have even asked, but Bucky’s frown deepened. “You can’t honestly think I would have kept it?”

“It was our baby, Pocket,” he said after a beat, his voice a rough whisper. “You would have killed our baby?!”

You rolled your eyes. “What? Just because you knocked me up, I’m supposed to forget everything you put me through and play happy co-parents with you and step mommy Carthage for the next eighteen years? No fucking thank you.”

“I would have married you,” he said, and you noticed for the first time that his voice was full of sorrow, his eyes lined with tears. Jesus Christ, this was hurting him. “We would have raised him or her together. Been a family.”

You laughed, the sound harsh and awkward to your own ears. “There’s no way in hell I’d marry you,” you told him. “Not after what you did. A clump of cells doesn’t just absolve you from your sins.”

“That was our child,” Bucky said, with so much anguish in his voice that you pulled yourself back. “That was a baby we made, out of our love, and you’re talking about it like it’s… it’s inconvenient garbage.”

“Yeah, well, I guess the trash took itself out,” you said bitterly.

Bucky looked at you in abject horror. “You don’t mean that,” he said, as though trying to convince himself as much as you. “You’re… you’re in shock. You’ve been through a trauma, and you’re not thinking straight.” He shook his head in disbelief. “You don’t mean that,” he reiterated.

“Whatever helps you sleep at night, James.” You turned your head away from him, not wanting to see the way he was looking at you, as if you were a complete stranger.

The suite’s door opened again, and a nurse came in, dragging a portable computer cart behind her. Saved by the vitals, you thought.

“This conversation isn’t over,” Bucky said under his breath, and you sighed, knowing that you weren’t going to be able to table this discussion for long, but not knowing what he hoped to get out of you.

He couldn’t seriously have expected you to want to have had a baby with him, could he? Not after everything. To be forced into close proximity with him for the next two decades, and be tied together for the rest of your lives with a constant reminder of what could have been, should have been, with what he prevented you from ever having? That was just… delusional.

Even though, if you had given yourself a chance to truly think about it, outside of the initial shock of it all, that was what you would have wanted, too.

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